Hold Tight tes-2

by Cherie Colyer

  “Son of a bitch!”

  I slammed my shoulder against the door. It still didn’t budge. By the time Isaac joined me, I was fuming and pretty sure the copper taste clinging to my tongue was my powers showing just how pissed I was. Isaac sped away without a word.

  “Are you going to tell me what just happened?” I asked. When he didn’t reply, I stated the obvious. “You used your powers in front of a store full of people.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair. “They won’t remember.”

  My jaw dropped. “You cast a confusion spell on everyone in the store?”

  “No, I cast a confusion spell on the cashier and a couple women who happened to be looking in our direction.” His fingers curled and uncurled around the steering wheel. “Have you eaten anything he’s offered you?”

  “What?” I shifted in my seat so that I could see him better. “Isaac, stop the car and tell me how you know Reed or…or…”

  He took a hard left, cutting off a guy in an SUV. “Or what? You’ll jump?”

  I didn’t plan on going that far.

  “Did you?” he bellowed, startling me.

  “Yes. What’s up with that anyway, because back there—” I pointed at the small dot in the distance that was the convenience store “—I couldn’t think straight.”

  Isaac replied with a stream of profanity that was obviously directed at Reed. I’d never seen him so upset, and I was still trying to understand why. All I could think was Reed had to be a dark witch; how else could he mess with my head so easily?

  “How’s he here?” Isaac asked.

  I took a deep breath. One of us had to remain rational. “Maybe if you tell me what’s going on and how you know Reed, we can figure that out.”

  “He’s a manipulative, self-serving faerie, and I sent his ass back to his realm last year. I sealed the door myself.” Isaac slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “It doesn’t make sense. Faeries can’t open the door between realms on their own, and they have to be invited to ours before they can enter.”

  “Reed’s not a faerie.” He couldn’t be. He worked for my dad.

  “I assure you, he is.”

  I thought again to how I’d seen his eyes change colors and heard his voice in my head though his mouth hadn’t moved. “But I only summoned one.” I couldn’t have brought Reed into our lives too.

  Isaac’s shoulders stiffened, and the muscles in his jaw twitched. “You did what?”

  I hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I needed some help around the house. Your mom was the one who said faeries like to do housework in exchange for cream—which is a myth, by the way. Not only do they not drink cream, they don’t like to clean.”

  “I could have told you that.”

  Isaac pulled into the fifteen-minute parking lot at Annisquam Lighthouse. His frustration rippled off him, tainting the air with an acid metallic taste that stuck to my tongue right alongside the copper already there.

  “Madison, Reed being here is bad. I believe his last words to me were, ‘Pray our paths never cross again.’”

  In the confines of the Jeep, our powers suffocated me. I got out. Isaac did too.

  The air smelled of fish and salt from the bay. I couldn’t tell if the energy surrounding Isaac was rage, fear, or irritation, but it scared me. It warned me to keep my distance until he managed to get his emotions under control. He paced back and forth from the Jeep to the large rocks that created a barrier between land and water. Over and over. Sometimes he just breathed in long deep breaths. Other times, he mumbled to himself so quietly that if I hadn’t seen his lips moving, I wouldn’t have known he was doing it.

  I waited by the Jeep, fidgeting with my rings and listening to the sounds of the water slapping the shore. I was dying to know how one faerie could be such a threat. Slowly, the taste of power leaking from Isaac’s pores changed from steel to vanilla and spearmint.

  “Where’d you get the spell?”

  “From your book on Fae,” I confessed.

  He punched the front quarter panel of the Jeep, creating a fist-sized dent that pushed its way out until there was no evidence of the damage. Recomposing himself, he said, “The book I asked you not to read.”

  Technically, he hadn’t asked me not to read it—more like alluded to it, which, to be honest, sparked my curiosity. No way was I going to point that out.

  “I didn’t see the harm in doing one spell,” I said in my defense. “And it’s a spell your great-aunt has done.”

  Isaac held his hand in front of him. The Fae appeared. He opened the book, flipping through the pages until he found the one he wanted. Holding it so that I could see, he asked, “You cast this spell?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Trust me, my aunt never cast this spell.” He turned the book around so he could read it.

  “But that spell summons one faerie, and Reed is not the faerie I met.”

  He looked at me. “Who’d you meet?”

  “Brea, and she hasn’t asked for anything. As a matter of fact, she’s nicer than some humans we know.”

  “Did you read every word of the spell exactly as it’s written here?”

  “Yes.” I had been very careful to follow the instructions to a T.

  “And you called upon Dellis and Rhoswen Reedsnap?”

  “Called upon? Those are names?” I’d figured it was gibberish like neverwhere.

  “The faerie at the store was Dellis Reedsnap of the Seelie Court.” Isaac closed his eyes. “I guess I should be thankful there aren’t any Unseelie names in this book.”

  I shook my head, still not convinced I had summoned Reed. “The spell grants me Sight. It allows me to see who I summon.”

  “Apparently it only allowed you to see one of them.”

  “But everyone at the gas station could see Reed,” I said, confused by the Fae’s rules.

  “Because he’s allowed us to see him.”

  “Oh…and he’s wearing a glamour so that he’d fit into our world.” Like Brea had done when she’d explored Gloucester. “But how’d Brea get here? Her name isn’t in the spell.”

  “My guess is she’s really Rhoswen.” He strolled toward the rocks and took a seat.

  “Reed’s sister,” I said, the proverbial light bulb going off above my head. She had said she had a brother; it would have been nice if she’d told me he was here.

  I thought back to the day I’d met Brea. Her attention had been fixed on something near the window, and I had assumed she’d been gazing outside, but what if she hadn’t been? What if someone had been talking to her? Her comment, ‘You will owe me,’ made more sense if she’d said it to Reed, Dellis, whatever his name was.

  I joined Isaac near the rocks. “Why do you think he’s pretending to be human? Why work for my dad?”

  “Take your pick: because it amuses him, to get close to you, to make you trust him.”

  The knot in my stomach bet all of the above were correct. Isaac flipped forward a few pages and held the book so that we could read it together.

  “Brea’s a princess,” I said matter-of-factly. “That would make Reed a prince.”

  Isaac gave me a sidelong glance. “Does it make you feel better to know a prince has wormed his way into your life?”

  I rolled my eyes in lieu of a reply. After a few minutes, I pointed to a paragraph in the book.

  “It says here that as long as you know a faerie’s name, they can’t harm you. It gives you some type of control over them.” I looked at Isaac. “That’s good, right?”

  “It would be, if we knew his name.”

  “Dellis Reedsnap.”

  “Trust me, that’s not his full name.”

  I gave that a moment’s thought and decided since “Brea” wasn’t even in the spell I’d cast, it made sense there was more to their names than Dellis and Rhoswen Reedsnap.

  “This is my fault.” Isaac pinched the bridge of his nose. “If he figured out you’re with me, then he’d want to use you to get back at m
e.”

  “Right, because you sent him packing the last time he was here.”

  “I warned you about messing with the Fae.”

  Glad Mr. In Control was back, I bumped his shoulder with mine and replied, “No, you said learning about earthly elements was more useful than learning about faeries.”

  “I believe I called them devious little creatures that twist the words of humans to their advantage.”

  Figured he’d remember his words verbatim. I already felt bad enough I’d been tricked into thinking Reed was a nice guy. Isaac dragged his fingers through his hair, grabbing a fistful at the back of his head. We were quiet, each consumed in our own thoughts. Mine centered on that tiny fuchsia-wrapped treat I hadn’t gotten to enjoy.

  “What’s the big deal about eating a piece of candy anyway?” I asked. An amazingly delicious piece of candy, I added silently.

  He studied me, eyes all squinty and mouth opened just a little. “You feel like you need it, don’t you?”

  “No,” I lied. I needed it almost as much as I needed to breathe.

  “Faerie food is like a drug to humans. Eat enough, and you’ll become dependent on it. Eat too much, and you’ll forget who you are. It’s how faeries lure their victims away from their homes and into their realm. Can you hear him, in your thoughts? When you look at him, do you see beyond his human guise?”

  I scrunched up my nose, sure now I had briefly seen Reed’s true form at the gas station and that his baby-blue eyes were as bright as the lightest, freshest snow. “But I’ve only had a piece—or three,” I corrected, remembering the candy I’d found in the kitchen.

  Isaac closed the book, and it disappeared. “I wouldn’t put it past him to slip something into your food or beverages.”

  “He can do that?” Of course he could. Invisibility gave him an unfair advantage. “Can’t we send him back?”

  “You’d need a spell to cast him out of our realm, and I’ve never been able to find one. Believe me, I searched the last time I faced him. The best we can do is seal the door you opened, only we can’t do that until we know Reed’s in his realm, and I doubt he’s going to volunteer to go quietly.” Isaac leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he peered out toward the horizon.

  “You know, I don’t think Brea is anything like her brother.” The more I thought about that, the more I was sure she’d help me. “She hinted to closing the door once. What if we ask her to lure him home so we can do it now?”

  “Do you think you can trust her?”

  I wanted to trust Brea because we’d become friends. At least, I thought we were friends. There was always the possibility that she was the one slipping me faerie roofies. “I don’t know, but it’s a plan.”

  “Where is she now?” he asked, hope rising in his voice.

  I shrugged. “She sort of comes and goes as she pleases.”

  His shoulders slouched forward, but instead of going off on how I’d let a faerie—two, apparently—run around Gloucester unchecked, he said, “Let’s focus on protecting you.”

  He hopped off the rock and held his hand out to me, helping me down.

  I liked that plan. “How we going to do that?”

  “We’ll faerie-proof you.”

  Chapter 14

  Faerie-Proofing

  Turned out faerie-proofing a person required a length of chain that one could find in any hardware store—or my garage since my dad was a packrat. Isaac and I gathered what we needed from my dad’s toolbox and went to my room to work on what I expected to be a complicated spell.

  “Give me your wrist,” Isaac said, holding up a seven-inch length of chain he’d recently cut to size by pinching the unwanted link between his thumb and forefinger and blasting it with a small amount of magic.

  “Why?” My gaze traveled from the metal chain to his eyes to my wrist, which I promptly hid behind my back. “Tell me you aren’t suggesting I wear that dirty thing like a bracelet.”

  “Iron’s toxic to faeries. We’re lucky your dad had it.” He held the thing closer to me.

  Out of all the words sprinting through my mind, lucky wasn’t one of them.

  “What’s to keep him from grabbing me by the waist?” I really didn’t want to make a fashion statement showing up at school with a hardware store special as my bracelet.

  “If you’re worried about it, I could fashion together a belt to match.” When I didn’t move a muscle—which was out of fear he was serious—he said, “Faeries don’t like to be around iron. Wearing it around your wrist should be enough to keep Reed away.”

  With a heavy sigh, I relented and gave him my wrist. The chain went right next to the hemp bracelet I never took off. With a little help from his powers, Isaac easily squeezed the last link into an oval, securing it in place. But one wasn’t enough. He made a matching one for my left wrist.

  I held my forearms out. “These look ridiculous.”

  “It’s only temporary.” Isaac set the spare chain on my dresser, noticing the flowers for the first time. “Where did you get these?”

  “Brea picked them from the garden.”

  “It’s the end of fall.” He pulled one of the green sprigs from the vase and studied it.

  “She’s a summer faerie. She can wake the flowers if she wants to.”

  He grabbed the bouquet in one hand and turned toward the garbage can near my nightstand, dripping water on the dresser and carpet in the process. I jumped in front of him before he could throw them out.

  “They’re from Brea, not Reed.” I went to grab them, but he moved his hand out of my reach. “We want her help. Don’t you think we’ll insult her if we throw out the flowers she gave me?” We needed Brea to stay on our side. Besides, a bouquet of flowers was not going to make matters worse.

  This time when I reached for them, he didn’t resist.

  “Get rid of the meadowsweet,” he said. I gave him a confused look, and he added, “It attracts faeries. It’s the green stuff.”

  I pulled the sprigs of green leaves and pine from the mix and handed them to him.

  On the way back to my house, I had told Isaac everything I knew about Brea and her home. We knew that her brother was of the Winter Court, so Isaac was sure that with winter fast approaching, Reed had become more powerful than Brea.

  Isaac leaned against the dresser, legs crossed at his ankles. “When did you summon her?”

  I blew out a sigh and picked up Jeffery, the stuffed giraffe I’d gotten at a carnival when I was thirteen. “I don’t know, a week ago. I think. Why?” I sank down onto the corner of my bed.

  “Was it before or after Natalie disappeared?”

  “Before.” The word dragged out as the gears inside my head clicked into place. “Oh my God, you think she’s been abducted by faeries. And the fact that I just said that out loud and meant it shows how seriously weird life has gotten.”

  Isaac spun the meadowsweet between his fingers. “One way to find out.”

  A quick trip downstairs gave us all the things we needed. Our scrying bowl was one of my mom’s navy-blue serving dishes; it was shallow and ceramic, perfect per Isaac. He surrounded the bowl with meadowsweet and daisies. We built the circle without Kaylee and Josh.

  “We couldn’t get this to work with all four corners of our coven. Why do you think it will work now, with only the two of us?” I asked.

  “Last time we were looking for Natalie in our world. To cross realms, you need meadowsweet and something that has been touched by a faerie’s magic.”

  “Hence the daisies.”

  He smirked. “Yep.”

  We sat facing each other with our hands linked and the bowl of water on the carpet between us. We used a photo of Natalie that had been taken at our eighth grade graduation party as the image of who we were looking for. Since she had given it to me, we also used it as the something that was once hers.

  The water swirled in a silver haze. I kept picturing Natalie in her purple ski hat, the pom-pom on top of her head bobbing front to b
ack when she laughed. Her wind-kissed cheeks had grown even rosier when she’d talked about her secret admirer. Had Reed given her the flowers? Had the blue rose been from him? Now I wondered if the bouquet I’d so adamantly saved from the trash was from Brea or if it had been from Reed all along.

  The silver haze moved slowly to the outskirts of the bowl. It was like looking through a mirror. An image started to form: first a brook, then the snowy shore and ice-laced trees. It could have been anywhere, except the water was too blue and the needles of the tall cypresses too green. The sky was a palette of indigo and plum. A group of girls in long velvet dresses scampered into view, laughing and chatting, though we couldn’t hear what they said.

  The girls drew nearer in our sight as if we’d hit a zoom button. Three of them were fairies; I could tell by their slanted eyes and creamy complexion. But the fourth was human. Her shiny hair and too-perfect skin looked the same as the others, but her normal brown eyes gave her true nature away. Then a fifth girl ran up to them, carrying a covered basket. The view adjusted again, focusing on her.

  Natalie.

  “I did this,” I murmured. I had ruined Natalie’s life along with her families’ and friends’ by playing with magic I didn’t understand.

  “You didn’t mean to.”

  “That doesn’t make it better.” My fingers slid from his. “Why would he take her?”

  Brea had said faeries used to kidnap babies, but Natalie was far from an infant. Reed couldn’t have done it to punish Isaac; Isaac barely knew her.

  “Something about her must have intrigued him. It might have been how petite she is or her scent, but luring humans away from their homes is something the Fae are all too good at. It’s one of the reason witches cast them out of our realm.”

  “How do we get her back?” I asked. Returning her to her parents was the only thing that truly mattered.

  Isaac rubbed his hand on his jeans. “Madison, there’s a reason humans aren’t supposed to accept gifts from faeries. Their food changes our cellular structure. We literally become dependent on it. Now that she’s in Sanctus, she’s better off staying.”

  “We’re not leaving her there.” I pointed to the scrying bowl for emphasis.