"Where'd you get that?" says Gillian, frowning. "I thought you lost it in the forest the other day, when you changed."
"This? Oh, I found it. I just went back to the last place I remembered, and there it was. Lucky it didn't get trampled." I keep my eyes on the phone, hoping she buys the excuse.
"Lucky," says Gillian slowly. But she doesn't bring it up again, so I continue texting. I ask Zane if the group is hanging out today.
"How about just us this time?" he texts back. "No gym, no fam. Just you and me."
A date. I love this idea. "I'm in," I reply.
"Pick you up at 5."
16
DARK
Zane
I don't know the real reason Aislinn wouldn't see me for a couple of days. I'm guessing she wasn't actually sick, but I got no proof of it. I do know that something is going on, and she just won't tell me.
Probably has something to do with that crazy voice thing she showed me. That wasn't just a trick, it was for real. Like voodoo, or something, except white people don't do voodoo. And Aislinn's about as white as they come; she looks like a real Irish lass straight from the island.
But what if it was something else? Maybe somebody beat her up and she had to wait for the bruises to fade. Maybe they locked her up for some reason. The thoughts keep running around in my head, and I can't shake them. They're making me crazy.
When I pick her up, though, she looks good. Better than good. She bounces into the truck, wraps her hands around the back of my neck, and kisses me hard. I almost forget to keep my foot on the brake.
"Damn, girl!" I put the truck in park and kiss her myself. I'm like a man who didn't even know he was starving till he saw a steak and ribs dinner in front of him.
When I break it off to let her breathe, she's laughing and gasping a little. "Missed you," she says.
"Me too," I tell her.
There's something new about her, more confidence or something. It's hot.
"A'right then. Let's get something to eat."
I take her to a little Cajun place my mom loves to visit for lunch. Their specialty is gumbo, but they do a mean jambalaya too, and beignets. And they got all kinds of New Orleans paraphernalia on the walls— paddles, the Cajun 10 Commandments, gator stuff, pictures of riverboats. My mom grew up in N'Orleans, and she misses that Cajun food. I'm hoping Aislinn likes it. It's something besides burgers, anyway.
I also chose it because there aren't any TVs with sports on to distract me. I want to be all here, all focused for what I got to say.
We talk about random stuff for a while— the menu, a song we heard while driving over, and a couple new TV episodes— and then I decide to bite the bullet.
"Aislinn, I know we kinda covered this earlier, but I wanted to make it official." Real smooth, Zane. Step up your game. I clear my throat and try again. "I feel like you and I, we're kind of in sync, you know? I mean, I really like you, and I think I feel vibes like that comin' back this way, am I right?"
"You're right."
"So— if you want, I would be honored if you'd be my girlfriend, for real."
Her smile. Wow. "Yes, I will." Then the smile's gone, like a shade dropped over her face. "Zane, what about— what about what I told you the other night? The weird stuff with the voices, and everything? Doesn't that freak you out?"
"Yeah, yeah, sure. But what freaks me out more is that you won't tell me what else you got goin' on."
She looks desperate. "I can't. It's not just my secret."
"Aislinn, I'm not gonna make you do or say anything you don't want. And I'm not making some kind of condition for this, what we've got, because it's real. I feel it. But I hope someday you'll trust me enough to tell me."
She nods, but I see pain in her eyes. Deep, dark pain, like most teenage girls don't have. She's been through something bad, for sure.
"I got to tell you one more thing, okay, and then we'll talk about something else." I decided I have to tell her. No use me keeping secrets when I want her to share hers. "The other day, I went running in the woods near your house. And I saw something."
There's a flash in her eyes, a caution, awareness.
I frown. "You already know what I saw."
"Hmm, what?" She guzzles her milkshake.
"Don't do that. Don't pretend you didn't just— Aislinn, the way you looked at me just now— you already know." I lower my voice. "About the monster in the woods." I feel dumb just saying the words.
"Maybe." She whispers it, and I barely hear her.
"What is it?"
She shrugs. "Demon? Beast? Monster? Take your pick. But it's under control now. We've got it handled."
I stare at her. "What are you?"
Her green eyes meet mine, wide and startled. "What?"
"What are you? Monster hunter, demon slayer? I feel like I'm in a TV show and you're freakin' Buffy."
"I wish." She sighs. "Can we talk about something else? Honestly, I just want to be normal. A normal teenage girl, on a date with a normal, gorgeous guy."
I can't stop the grin that spreads over my face. "Gorgeous, huh? Right back at you, beautiful."
She's just trying to distract me. It's working. I let the whole monster and magic thing drop, and we just talk about school, and our friends, and summer.
"I'm taking you to the beach this summer," I say. It just pops out, unplanned. "We're doing a trip to celebrate my graduation. You should come with us."
"But it's a family thing," she says. "Wouldn't I be kind of in the way?"
"Nah. Ada and Deke would usually come, but they got work and the baby; they'll go later in the summer. So there's plenty of room for you. You can share a room with Mom and Kali."
Except I haven't asked my parents yet. I can talk them into it though, especially since Aislinn looks thrilled.
"Haven't you been to the beach?" I ask.
"Never. Always wanted to go."
I feel for her. Seems like she's been cooped up in her house— the one I haven't seen yet— for most of her life. Doesn't her family care about her?
Their loss. I'm gonna change this girl's life.
"One more thing," I say. "It's kinda lame. There's this thing called prom—"
Her eyes widen and she gasps a little. I grin. "Okay, so you're into it. I wasn't sure if you would be. You wanna go with me?"
"Yes! Yes yes yes." She claps one hand over her mouth like she's trying to keep from squealing.
"You know it's not like in movies and TV shows, right? My school doesn't have an unlimited budget or professional decorators or the world's best DJ."
"I don't care. Of all the things I've missed by being homeschooled, this is the one I was most bummed about. I want to go!"
"You know there's gonna be drinking, and like kids bein' crazy, and people hooking up, right?"
She freezes for a second. "Oh. So... is this— I mean, do you—"
"No, no, we're not gonna— I'm saying other people do. Not that I don't want to because you're smokin' hot— but it's probably not the right time, so— no pressure. For real."
This is super awkward. My face feels burning hot right now.
She lets out a breath, and I can tell she's relieved. "Just the dance, then."
"And we're all going to this waffle place afterwards."
"Sounds amazing. Not sure I can stay out for the after-party, but I'll try."
"Good. I'll get the tickets, and I'll have Laurel text you the details. She's on the prom committee, cause she crazy."
Aislinn laughs, and so do I. The awkwardness is gone; although I feel a little sore that she was so relieved about us not hooking up. I'd like to know that she wants me as badly as I want her. But she's new to this, so I'll give it time. Lots of time. As much time as she needs, because she is special, and this is real, and I don't want to wreck it.
17
STYLE
Aislinn
The day after my dinner with Zane, Arden takes me out into the forest.
"First, we'll prac
tice using the pixie's locator power," she says.
My hearts sinks, and I get that sick feeling again, that sucking, drowning knowledge that I drained someone's soul away. "I can't," I say. "It feels wrong. She's dead, Arden. I killed her."
"He killed her. He just used you to do it. Stop wallowing in guilt that isn't yours, and move on."
"It's not that simple."
"Staying here, sticking in your guilt like a boot in the mud is easy. Escaping this place is anything but easy, and we need to work together. Now, I need you to focus, and learn how to use what you have. Whether it should be yours or not is irrelevant— it belongs to you now, and you need to understand it."
Taking a deep breath, I focus on the guilt, on calming myself, letting it go. "Okay, I'm ready."
She holds up a red stiletto— one of Gillian's. "You need to have a picture of the object, or person, or place, in your mind."
I stare at the shoe. "Got it."
"Now I'll hide it. Wait here."
She's gone for about fifteen minutes. By the time she comes back, I'm deep in a game on my phone. "Aislinn! Focus!"
"Sorry." I slip the phone into my back pocket. "Okay, red shoe." I think about the shoe, its shape and color. "Now what?"
"Just start walking. In any direction."
I frown. "That seems dumb."
Arden sighs. "Trust me, I've seen plenty of pixies do this. It's an instinct, not a GPS route. Just go!"
"Fine." I start walking into the woods, in no particular direction. Every so often I swerve to the right, or to the left.
In a sun-dappled clearing, I stop. "This is pointless. I have no idea where it is. It could be like a mile away."
Arden smiles, satisfaction in her eyes. "Aislinn, this is the clearing where I hid the shoe."
"Seriously?"
She nods. "Now think about it again. Where could it be?"
The clearing is full of thick grasses, and the underbrush is fairly dense. There are a dozen or more spots where she could have concealed the stiletto. Might as well start somewhere. I walk up to a low bush and pull back the branches.
And there is the red stiletto.
I stare at it for a second. "Wait, how—"
Arden is smiling again. She's doing that a lot more these days. "Amazing, isn't it? Such a useful little talent."
We practice again with other objects, and finally with Arden herself. Each time, I feel like I'm randomly choosing my path, yet I always find my goal.
When I find Arden, concealed behind a huge oak, I'm done for the day. And I have other things to think about.
"I need your help with something else," I say. "I need to you convince Maeve to let me go to prom."
◆◆◆
Arden's strategy for convincing Maeve involves getting the twins on board first. They're so thrilled at the idea of fancy dress shopping, hairdos, and makeup styles that the prom is basically a done deal before we've ever asked Maeve for permission. Plus, Maeve is barely speaking to me.
Once Laurel finds out I'm going, she texts me non-stop about prom. She's head of the committee, so she's got the inside scoop— and the theme is "A Night at Gatsby's," of all things. When I read that text, I go from a 10 to a 15 on the scale of prom excitement.
If only I didn't have to think about the Far Darrig and his creepy posse. Or my ancient Celtic queen of a grandmother and her lifetime of violence and lies. Or my upcoming liberty walk with Arden. Or my newly adopted powers, and the lead-weight of guilt that I carry with me in the pit of my stomach.
If only I didn't have all those things on my mind, I could be perfectly happy.
For the next week, I barely see Zane or any of our crew. It's just as well— he tells me over text that he has tons of homework, reports, and projects to finish up. He's also hunting for a summer job.
Meanwhile, Arden and I are busy. We slip away from the others every chance we get, and Arden's first act is to deactivate the tracker app on my phone and switch it to a new account with a new provider, so Maeve can't use it to find me. Then Arden shows me the account that holds my inheritance. The night before we leave, she will transfer the money to a new account.
We also hunt for an apartment and find a two-bedroom not far away, with two baths, since Arden refuses to share a bathroom. She suggests moving to another city, but I'm not ready for that. Zane is here. Of course I'm staying here.
Besides, with my new powers, I should be able to protect us from being found.
To help us practice the concealment aspect of the powers, Arden brings along her friend, the pixie. She's the one I saw outside the hotel, the one we bribed to stay quiet. I can only assume Arden has offered her an even larger bribe this time. She's a quiet, normal-looking woman, maybe fifty, very short, with straight brown hair and a plain face. Next to Arden's crisp bob and chic clothes, the pixie's denim skirt and sneakers look very plain.
"All right, Aislinn," Arden says. "I want you to take the shoe and put it somewhere in the forest, in plain sight. Walk around it once in a circle and speak this incantation." She hands me a paper. "When you're ready, come back, and we'll see if Jackie can find the shoe."
I walk for about five minutes, place the shoe on a rock, and make the circle, speaking the spell in Old Irish. Maybe it's my imagination, but I could swear there's a faint pink glow around the shoe for a second after I finish. Then it looks normal again.
"All done?" asks Arden when I return. I nod. "Okay, Jackie, see if you can locate the shoe."
After twenty minutes, Jackie still hasn't found it. Even when I lead her to the spot where the shoe is, she can't seem to see it until I pick it up and bring it out of the circle I made.
"Well, I'll be," Jackie says in her slow Southern drawl. "It works. You can hide things from pixies. But it'll only work on us. Humans or other Fae will still be able to find you if they use regular methods." She holds the shoe, frowning. "Can I ask how you're able to use this power? Only pixies should be able to conceal things from other pixies."
"It's a special spell I've been working on," says Arden. "Aislinn's father was a descendant of druids, as close as you can get to pureblood these days. That's why she's able to do it."
"I've never heard of any other Fae managing something like this." Jackie doesn't seem convinced.
"Well, that's beside the point, isn't it?" Arden's voice takes on a metallic edge. "You're being well compensated for your discretion in this matter."
"Of course." Jackie hands back the shoe. "I'll look for the payment."
"It should be in your account by tomorrow morning," Arden says.
I'm barely listening to them, because now that I've mastered the new powers, it's time to focus on prom. And I have a perfect dress to find.
◆◆◆
On prom night, the limo Frank rented pulls up in front of the house. It's the first time I've given anyone my address— the first time my friends have seen my home. But I wasn't about to be picked up for prom on the curb of the corner store. No way.
The Korrigan know my friends are coming. Maeve and I had a massive fight about it, which only ended when I began throwing arguments at her in every voice I could think of, including my mother's. She retaliated by saying I can only stay at the prom till 10. That gives me just two hours if we get there right on time at 8.
But I feel like I won anyway, because my friends arrive in the limo at 7:30— all except for Laurel, who's already at the school helping with last-minute setup.
When Zane gets out of the limo, I swear my heart does a couple of backflips. He looks perfectly groomed and movie-star handsome in his vivid red shirt and crisply pressed suit. And boy, does he fill out that suit nicely! I feel a sudden, surprising urge to take it off him. Maybe that's why prom night has the reputation it does? Girls see these high school boys in normal clothes every day, and then suddenly they're transformed into well-dressed men who give you flowers and open doors for you, and it's just too much to resist.
I walk down the porch steps toward him, and I can
tell he's impressed with me, too. My red curls have been carefully managed and braided and twisted to waterfall over my left shoulder, with sparkly green hairpins for effect. I'm wearing a shiny champagne-colored gown that's tight-fitting around my body down to my hips, where it flares out to give me room for dancing. It's a classy dress— a chic, grown-up dress. In this dress, I feel like a modern princess.
"Hey, beautiful," says Zane as he reaches me.
I lean toward him and whisper, "Hey sexy," in his ear. I swear he shivers when I do it.
"So this is your house. It's nice."
If he only knew about the dungeon under the basement.
"Picture time!" sings a voice from behind me. Magnolia and Gemma have come out on the porch, and they don't let us leave until they've snapped photos of me and Zane, and Frank and his date, and Julio and his date, and all of us with Mike. Finally Arden comes out and practically hauls the other Korrigan inside as Gemma is drooling over Mike and offering to be his date.
"He has a date, she's already at prom," I say. "And that's where we should be. Let's go!"
The limo is cool, but for some reason I thought it would be more magical. It's really just a very long car with a lot of seats. Still, it's fun.
"I knew you were a rich girl!" says Julio, pointing a finger at me from across the car.
"Sort of. I really don't have money of my own to spend." Or at least, I won't until I can access my inheritance.
"Still, you're lucky. That house? Wow."
They keep talking about the house, the land, everything. I feel embarrassed, ashamed somehow for having a beautiful, custom-built house when so many people don't have anything nearly that nice. Ashamed for not being more grateful for it. Angry because Julio has no idea what my life has been like. Angry at myself because I'm being a self-pitying, entitled loser.
Suddenly Zane's arm is around me. "Hey hey now, enough about Aislinn's house, okay. Dang, you'd think ya'll never saw a decent house before. It's not her fault that her aunts are loaded. Let's forget about it and enjoy the night, brothers!"
Korrigan (Secrets of the Fae Book 1) Page 16