by Dawn, Autumn
Billy narrowed her eyes as she assessed her cousin. Carrie might be upset at the loss of her boyfriend, but it didn’t go very deep. She’d give it two weeks before Carrie got tired of the tragedy and found herself a new football player—unless the basketball team caught her eye first.
“Sorry to hear about your boyfriend,” Billy called when Carrie got close. Judging by the annoyance in Carrie’s eyes, the recent heartbreak was still no excuse for talking to each other.
Carrie slowed and carefully swept her straight black hair from her eyes, probably trying not to scratch her cheeks with her newly manicured nails. She was sporting a new asymmetrical bob, which she’d somehow managed to make gleam like strands of pure onyx. That’s how she’d spent the weekend—drowning her grief in the salon. Her mother had paid for a full day of massage, mud wrap, the whole bit. Apparently there was nothing like flashing Daddy’s credit card to soothe a wounded soul.
Carrie narrowed her eyes. They were brown with greenish bits (like swamp water, Billy always thought). “It’s too bad you weren’t at the party, Bill. You might have been able to help.”
“Bill” raised a brow. Help how? As bait? She stifled a laugh at the image of her throwing herself in the troll’s path for Lance. She had to admire Carrie’s attempt to make her feel guilty, too. Now it was her fault that Carrie’s boyfriend had become an entree?
“That is tragic. But somehow, I don’t think you would have invited me when you slipped off to make out. Third wheel, and all that.” Besides, she hadn’t been invited. Not that she cared, but Carrie would make a point of rubbing it in.
Carrie patted her arm. “Don’t worry, Bill. You won’t always be a third wheel. I’m sure you’ll find someone…someday.” Her tone said there wasn’t a chance of that, ever. She continued into the school, wearing a satisfied little smirk.
Billy smiled, too, as she eyed Carrie’s no-doubt expensive new shoes. It was juvenile…and irresistible. Murmuring softly in the Old Tongue, she told the shoes, “You’re slippery. No one can stand in you.”
Obediently, the shoes began to skid and slide. With a gasp, Carrie grabbed onto the nearest person, a pimply young freshman. Astonished, he caught her just before she fell on her tush, and gamely held on as Carrie continued to slip and slide. Billy let the comedy continue for almost a minute, allowing the boy to get in several good gropes before she murmured, “Be shoes. Anyone can stand in you.” Immediately the drama stopped.
Gasping, Carrie thrust the boy away and straightened her clothes. Those who had witnessed the scene laughed and hurried on to class, leaving her friends to fuss over her.
Carrie was too flustered to look around for the culprit, and hurried inside. However, it wouldn’t be long before she figured it out.
Smiling cheerfully, Billy made her way to class. She was going to have to spend the week watching out for retaliation, but it was worth it. She hummed softly as she sat in the back of English Lit, smiling broadly when Carrie turned to give her a death stare. Still smiling, she pulled out her battered textbook and flipped it open to the current chapter.
Tormenting Carrie made life worth living.
It was a shame that she’d ended up in some of the same core classes as Carrie. If she hadn’t been held back when she was younger, if time hadn’t slipped away while she was Underhill…well, that was life. What mattered was that she was getting by with a solid C+. She figured if she could just maintain the status quo, she’d be fine.
Carrie, of course, was charming her way through the course—literally. Not that it made her a favorite of Mr. Duncan—he frowned suspiciously every time he was forced to hand back a nearly perfect paper, but since he couldn’t catch her cheating, there was nothing he could do. For her part, Carrie spent most of her time texting, ignoring him.
There was a new student in class today. He sat up front, farthest from the door, and quietly looked around. Billy couldn’t see his face, but his ashy blond hair looked…oh, off, as if it wanted to be something else.
Frowning, Billy paid more attention, watching the idle way his left hand tapped his desk. A ring flashed on his forefinger, mesmerizing as it winked in the light. She blinked and averted her eyes, then fixed them to the back of his head in sudden suspicion. She was not close enough to smell him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a troll.
Mr. Duncan rolled his short, pudgy self up to the podium, hiding his overflowing waistline behind the stout wood. “Good morning, class. We have a new student today.” He looked at the newcomer patronizingly. “I hope you know your Edgar Allan Poe, Mr. Bergtagen.”
“Ja. I know him,” the student said. Though his German accent was distinct, his English was perfectly understandable. “Mr. Poe and I are good friends.”
The class laughed, and Mr. Duncan raised a doubting brow. “Really? Perhaps you’d like to quote something from him, then? What about a few lines from The Raven?”
“Should I stand?” the young man asked, sounding amused.
“Oh, why not?” Mr. Duncan folded his arms, looking bored. “Amaze us.”
Bergtagen stood. He wasn’t that tall, but when he stood, the eye kept traveling up and up. His moves were lazy, but purposeful; the coiled readiness of a predator. Spooky green eyes with yellow bits betrayed a confidence beyond his years, and he was unconcerned with the inspection of so many strangers. He gazed at the ceiling at the back of the class as if gathering his thoughts, then looked right at Carrie. He smiled like a serial killer, and quote,
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more.”
His German accent flowed in hypnotic cadence, lending an interest to the poem that Billy had never felt before. Her short hairs pricked, and her chin came down, a natural protection for her vulnerable throat. She could feel the menace of his voice, and it was all she could do not to stand up and answer it. Her instincts were crying for her to empty the class and deal with the menace before her.
Poor Carrie must be terrified.
Mr. Duncan was grudgingly respectful as he said, “Very good, Mr. Bergtagen. It seems you do have a passing acquaintance with Mr. Poe. You may have a seat.
“As for the rest of you…” He launched into a very boring and exceedingly wordy description of the late poet’s life.
Billy could hardly focus. Her attention was fixed on the monster, seated within troll’s arm reach of her cousin. All the while she ran scenarios through her head, going through the ways she could incapacitate the troll before it killed everyone in the class.
All around her, students sat oblivious. They doodled, drooled and nodded off, jerking awake to pointed questions from Mr. Duncan. A few of the diligent ones took notes, secure in the knowledge that they would live to see tomorrow, and yes, there would be a test. ARGH! She wanted to scream as the minutes plodded by.
Finally the class was dismissed. Billy was up
out of her seat and by her cousin’s side before anyone else could rise from their chair.
“Carrie. I wanted to talk to you about this morning,” she said, giving her cousin a meaningful look. “Let me walk you to your locker and we can talk about it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the troll cock his head in interest. He took his time about rising, clearly listening in.
“Later. I wanted to welcome our newest student,” Carrie said impatiently. She looked around Billy and smiled flirtatiously. “Hi, there! I’m—hey!” she protested when Billy blocked her way. “What’s your problem?”
“Troll,” Billy mouthed.
“What?” Carrie’s gaze followed the troll distractedly as he strolled out of the room, smiling over his shoulder.
Billy shuddered at the flash of his teeth. She couldn’t discuss this here, though, not with Mr. Duncan looking at them curiously.
Carrie wasn’t waiting in any case. She grabbed her books and headed for the door, in hot pursuit of the monster. Billy caught up to her outside the room and grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute, will you? I’m trying to tell you that he’s—”
“Mine!” Carrie bit out, pulling out of her grasp with surprising strength. “He’s a hottie, and I saw him first. You got that?”
Billy gaped at her. It took her precious seconds, but she finally found her tongue. “Are you stupid? Don’t you realize what that is?”
“Yeah. He’s taken, that’s what he is, so you just keep your hands off.” Carrie poked her with a long pink nail in emphasis. “I don’t want you getting anywhere near him.”
Billy was so dumbfounded that she actually watched Carrie walk away and didn’t try to stop her. Was it possible that anyone could be that stupid?
4. Stupid Cupid
Billy finally caught up to Carrie again in gym. They didn’t share a math class, and Billy had spent the last hour fretting, willing the clock to move. She’d seen the troll go into the math class with Carrie, and wondered if he’d arranged to be in all of her classes. By the time she’d tracked Carrie down on the basketball court, she’d worked herself into a froth.
Carrie sent her a look of disdain as Billy strode up to her, while her friends looked at her as if she were some kind of nasty frog. “What do you want?” She didn’t wait for an answer before leaning over to whisper to her friend Terra, “Have you ever seen a backside like that? I just want to squeeze it.” They were looking at the troll, of course.
“We have to talk,” Billy interrupted their giggles by grabbing Carrie’s arm. She tried to get close enough to whisper, but Carrie kept leaning away. When her friends came to her aid, Billy had no choice but to use big guns. She muttered in the Old Tongue to their underwear, “You’re far too tight.”
Instantly the girls had other things on their mind. Twisting and picking, they struggled to adjust their clothes without drawing attention. Terra wore a pained look as she tried to hide behind the others while she tugged at her thong.
What kind of moron wore a thong to gym?
Unfortunately, the precious reprieve didn’t last. The gym teacher blew her whistle and divided everyone into teams, then ordered everyone onto the court. Billy had to allow the underwear to relax its stranglehold so Carrie’s friends could play. She couldn’t afford for the teacher to become suspicious.
Besides, she had bigger problems. The teacher had put her on the same team as Ash Bergtagen.
Billy and the troll sized each other up. The troll raised a brow. If he could see it, he didn’t seem impressed by her armor. Judging by his control, he was old, with all the abilities of a full-blooded fae. A younger troll would have a hard time resisting the urge to snack. To him, the students probably looked like a buffet of walking Twinkies.
From what she had seen in English, he wasn’t stupid. He probably realized that Billy knew what he was and was trying to protect her niece. Besides, he’d probably already quizzed all of Carrie’s secrets from her during math.
He looked amused. Billy fought a surge of irritation. Well, it wasn’t as if she’d hoped to scare him.
Carrie was on the opposing team. She sent Billy a look of promised retribution for being chosen to play on the “hottie’s” team, and Billy bared her teeth. She wanted to slam dunk Carrie’s head for being so dense.
Determined to make Carrie listen, she sent a sneaky, distracting charm the teacher’s way, then blatantly ignored all the rules. Rushing Carrie as she blocked Carrie’s pass, she hissed in the Old Tongue, “He’s a troll!”
Carrie grunted at the elbow in her ribs and tossed the ball over Billy’s head. “What?”
Ash neatly intercepted the ball, flashing teeth at Billy as he darted between them and effortlessly sent the ball flying into the basket.
Billy tried again in a minute, crashing into Carrie as they wrestled over the ball. “Troll, stupid! Ash is the troll.” She had the satisfaction of seeing Carrie’s eyes widen before the game broke them apart.
Visibly shaken, Carrie retreated to her position and stared at Ash. Her eyes widened, and her hand crept to her throat. It looked as if she were finally seeing.
Ash saw her expression and smiled like a mad hyena. His nostrils flared at the thick scent of terror, and his expression became a little too fixed.
Afraid of what he would do, Billy charged in his way as the whistle blew. It was like trying to stop a bus. His momentum sent him right over her, crushing her with the force of a bulldozer.
The armor didn’t work the way Billy thought it would. Instead of hardening, it softened her, turning her insides liquid, like a Billy-shaped gummi bear. The shock of his foot compressing her jellied spine stunned her, left her gasping. Her whole body rippled from the contact with the hard floor.
She was seeing stars as Ash leaned over her. Oddly, the double vision made his troll form visible for several seconds, but her brain was too scrambled to feel the appropriate fear. She gulped in a breath and said, “You’re very heavy.”
“Good thing you’re so soft and squishy.” He grinned and hauled her to her feet without warning. She wavered a moment, then straightened as her bones solidified. As her wits returned, she tried to back away from him.
His hand on her arm tightened. If she weren’t wearing armor, she’d have been bruised to the bone. He muttered something in the Old Tongue, a suggestion that the teacher pay attention now. “I think I should take Billy to the nurse. She’s a little rubbery still.”
Billy shot him an annoyed look, but the teacher was fully alert now. She looked Billy over carefully. “Maybe you should. That was quite a spill.”
Billy opened her mouth to protest, but the troll had already flung an arm around her back and was force-marching her toward the exit. Alarmed, she glanced at Carrie, but her cousin didn’t seem inclined to come to the rescue. She resembled a timid goldfish with the way her mouth kept opening and closing. If it were up to Carrie, it was clear that this might be the last time anyone saw Billy alive.
Up close, the she could smell his musky scent, like expensive cologne. It smelled enticing, masculine, even. That same scent, magnified and corrupted by the smell of carrion, was only one of the things that should have alerted Carrie to the troll lurking under the bridge.
Outside the gym, Billy tried to throw on the brakes. It was like trying to slow a Maglev Train; the troll kept on rolling. She tried words instead. “Are we going to have this out here? Kind of public, don’t you think?”
He grinned down at her. “I could throw open any of these doors and find Underhill. I may not have your skill with wicked charms, but that I can do. Is that the privacy you want?”
Conscious that he could feel her deep breath, she still couldn’t help wiggling. His arm tightened like a steel cable. “I guess the nurse’s will do, if that’s where you’re going,” she gasped.
He found an empty staff room and deposited her on top of a table casually, as if she were as light as a textbook. “This will do.”
She felt the air change around them with a shiver
of old, old magic. “You made us invisible?” she guessed. That wasn’t her first choice; the more witnesses, the better.
“Our business will be private,” he confirmed. He looked her over, lightly fingered the sleeve of her armor. “Interesting stuff, pixie armor. Chewy.”
She snatched her arm away. “Yeah, guaranteed to stick in your teeth,” she warned. He didn’t look as if he’d gobble her right up, but what did she know about trolls? “About my niece.”
He sat down at the table next to her, forcing her to twist to keep him in sight. “Yes. I was entertained by your display this morning. You have a gift for naughtiness.”
She felt her face heat. It was not the sort of thing she was used to having praised. “Bad habit,” she muttered.
“I like bad habits,” the troll rumbled. When he let down his guard, he had a voice like a bass guitar. It left her bones vibrating. “And I don’t think you’re very fond of your niece.”
Lying to a fae was not possible, so Billy had to choose her words carefully. She made a non-committal noise. “We don’t always get along. We’re pretty different.” East and West different; not that she would say as much to a troll.
He studied her for an uncomfortably long time, with the patience of a hunter who had lived for centuries. The old ones did that sometimes; let time slip away. Billy knew better than to verbally admit impatience, but after a while she found herself shifting, looking around. Her fingers began to tap.
He laughed, as if he’d won already. “A very young hunter.”
She tensed with temper, and her hand flexed, longing for her favorite dagger. It had a lovely steel blade etched with silver, and a razor’s edge. She’d dearly love to stick it in his eye.
A rumbling sound of contentment sighed from his throat. “I can see vast entertainment here, so this is what I will do.” His greenish eyes lightened to yellow. “I am going to kill the niece you don’t like, pixie. I will grind her bones under my teeth as I did her graceless lover. All the while you will watch me hunting, knowing that you can’t stop me. In the end, I think, you will even enjoy being rid of her. What say you?”