“I don’t need guards,” Laurel said, thinking of the sentries stationed near her house.
Klea startled. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t need guards,” Laurel repeated. “I don’t want them.”
“Now really, Laurel. It’s for your own protection. I’m sure your parents would agree. I could speak with them, if you like—”
“No!” Laurel bit her lip when two of the men working a few yards away paused and looked over at her. She’d have to tell the truth now. “They don’t know about him,” she admitted. “I never told them anything about Barnes at all. I got back before they realized I was gone.”
Klea grinned openly. “Really? Resourceful little thing, aren’t you?” Laurel managed not to throw Klea a dirty look but only barely. “But seriously, Laurel. There’s been a lot of troll activity around Crescent City lately. Way more than I’m comfortable with. Luckily,” she continued, a touch of amusement in her voice, “we’re dealing with the kind of being who is easily…stopped.” She rubbed at her temples briefly. “Not like some of the other creatures I’ve had the singular experience of hunting down.”
“Other creatures?” David asked.
Klea stopped rubbing her head and looked at David with a pointed expression. “Oh, David, the things I have seen. There’s more out there than anyone dares to believe possible.”
David’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak.
“But I’m afraid we don’t have to time to discuss that tonight,” she said, shutting down his questions. She looked at Laurel. “I’d like you to reconsider,” she said seriously. “Because you managed to escape from your last encounter unscathed, I think you underestimate these creatures. But they are fast, cunning, and amazingly strong. We have a hard enough time keeping them in line and we’re trained professionals.”
“Why do you do it then?” Laurel asked.
“What do you mean, why? Because they’re trolls! I hunt them to protect people, like I protected you tonight.” She hesitated, then continued. “Some time ago, I lost everything…everything…to inhuman monsters like these. I have made it my life’s work to end the suffering they cause.” She stopped talking for a second, then focused back on Laurel. “A big dream, I know, but if no one tries, it will never happen. Please help us by letting us help you.”
“I don’t need bodyguards or whatever it is you’re offering,” Laurel insisted. She knew she sounded petulant, but there was nothing else she could say. Faerie sentries were one thing, but this? This stranger with her army camp and big guns—Laurel didn’t need them stumbling upon her real guardians. The sooner she and David could get out of there, the better.
Klea pursed her lips. “Okay,” she said softly, “if that’s the way you feel. But if you change your mind, you have my card.” She looked back and forth between David and Laurel. “It’s only fair to tell you that I’m still going to keep my eye on you two. I don’t want anything to happen. You seem like good kids.” She paused, her finger near her chin, thinking for a few seconds. “Before you go,” she said slowly, “I have something for you. And I hope you’ll understand my reasons for giving them to you, as well as my request that you keep them a secret. Especially from your parents.”
Laurel didn’t like the sound of that.
Klea gestured to one of the passing men, and he brought her a large box. She sifted through it for a few seconds before pulling out two handguns in black canvas holsters. “I don’t anticipate your needing these,” she said, holding one out to each of them. “But if you won’t consent to guards, then this is the best I can do. I prefer to be overly cautious rather than…well, dead.”
Laurel looked down at the gun Klea had extended toward her, grip-first. In her peripheral vision she saw David take his without hesitance and murmur, “Sweet!” but her eyes stayed locked on the gun. Very slowly, she reached out her hand and touched the cool metal. It didn’t look quite like the gun she’d pointed at Barnes last year, but when she wrapped her fingers around the grip, it felt the same. Visions of Barnes flashed through her head, all tinted the scarlet of blood—David’s blood on her arm, the blood that blossomed on Barnes’s shoulder when she shot him, and worse, the look on Tamani’s face when he’d been shot, twice, by a gun not unlike this one.
She jerked her hand back as if she’d been burned. “I don’t want it,” she said quietly.
“And that does you credit,” Klea said calmly. “But I still think—”
“I said I don’t want it,” Laurel repeated.
Klea pursed her lips. “Really, Laurel—”
“I’ll take it for now,” David said, his hand reaching out for the second gun. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Klea looked up at David, her expression unreadable behind those stupid mirrored glasses. “I suppose that will do.”
“But…” Laurel began.
“Come on,” David said, his voice soft and gentle. “It’s almost midnight; your parents will be worried.” He put an arm around Laurel and started to lead her toward the car. “Oh,” he said, stopping and turning back to Klea, “and thanks. Thanks for everything.”
“Yeah,” Laurel mumbled without turning back. “Thank you.” She hurried to the car and slipped in before David could open her door. Her back was aching now and all she wanted was to get away from Klea and her camp and get home. She started the car before David even had a chance to get in and the moment his seat belt clicked, she shifted into reverse and turned the car around. She drove back down the makeshift road as quickly as she dared, and watched Klea in her rearview mirror until the road curved and she blinked out of sight.
“Wow,” David said as they pulled back onto the highway.
“I know,” Laurel agreed.
“Wasn’t she awesome?”
“What?” That was not what Laurel had in mind.
But David was already distracted. He took out the gun Klea had given him and unsnapped the holster.
“David! Don’t take that out,” Laurel said, trying to look at David and the gun and the road all at once.
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.” He took the gun out and turned it around in his hands. “Sig Sauer,” he said.
“Sig what?”
“Sauer. It’s the brand name. It’s a really good gun. Expensive,” he added. “Although not nearly as cool as Klea’s gun. Did you see that thing? An automatic. I bet it was the Glock eighteen.”
“Hello! NRA David,” Laurel said peevishly. “Where did you come from? I didn’t know you were so into guns.”
“My dad’s got a bunch,” he said distractedly, still petting the firearm in his hand. “We used to go hunting a little, when I was younger, before they split. He still takes me shooting at the range, sometimes, when I’m visiting. I’m a pretty good shot, actually. Mom’s not a fan; she prefers the microscope. Just one more reason they weren’t meant to be together, I guess.” He pulled on the barrel and Laurel heard a click.
“Be careful!” she yelled.
“The safety’s on—no worries.” He clicked something else and the magazine came sliding out. “Extra-long magazine,” he said, rattling off facts in the same tone of voice her dad might use to check off inventory. “Ten shots instead of eight.” He ejected one bullet and held it up to the window. “Forty-five caliber.” He whistled softly. “These bullets could do some serious damage.”
The phrases ran through Laurel’s head like a grotesque broken record. Forty-five caliber, extra-long magazine, ten shots, serious damage. Forty-five caliber, extra-long magazine, ten shots, serious damage.
“That’s it,” Laurel said through gritted teeth. Her foot slammed onto the brake, and she lurched to a stop on the side of the road.
David looked up at her with a combination of confusion and what almost looked like fear. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
“What’s wrong?” His innocent, genuine tone told her he really had no idea why she was upset.
Laurel folded her arm
s over the steering wheel and laid her forehead against them. She took several deep breaths and forced herself to be calm. David said nothing, just waited as she took hold of her temper and gathered her thoughts.
Finally she broke the silence. “I don’t think you understand what all of this means for me.” When David didn’t respond, she continued. “They’re watching us now. Maybe they’ve always been watching us, I don’t know. And truth be told, I really think you are going to be safer. But how do we know she’s not hunting faeries as well?”
David snorted in disbelief. “Oh, come on, she wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t she?” she asked, turning to face David, her tone deadly serious.
“Of course not.” But his voice had lost a little of its confidence.
“Did she ever say why she wanted to catch the trolls? Or kill them, I think we can safely assume?”
“Because they’re trying to kill us.”
“She never said that. She only said it was because they are trolls.”
“Isn’t that enough of a reason?”
“No. You can’t hunt things just because of what they are, or what others like them have done to you. I can’t assume there are no good trolls out there any more than I can assume there are no bad faeries. The fact that she’s hunting the right thing doesn’t mean it’s for the right reason.”
“Laurel,” David said calmly, one hand on her shoulder, “you’re arguing semantics here. I really think you’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
“That’s because you’re human. That gun you’re so impressed by? I can’t be as impressed because I’m afraid it will be pointing at me someday if she finds out what I am.”
David stopped, shock written across his face. “I wouldn’t let it happen.”
Laurel laughed sharply. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, do you really think you could stop her? Her and all those—I don’t know—ninjas she’s got working for her?” Laurel twined her fingers through David’s. “I have great faith in you, David, but I doubt you’re very good at stopping bullets.”
David sighed. “I just hate feeling so powerless. It’s one thing to take my own life in my hands”—he chuckled ironically—“I’m a crazy teenager; we do that kind of stuff all the time.” He sobered and was silent for a few moments. “But it’s something else completely to have you in danger, and Chelsea, and Ryan, and all the other kids at the party. Things got really real tonight, Laurel. I was scared.” He laughed. “No, I was terrified.”
Laurel looked down at her lap and twisted the tail of her shirt with her fingers. “I’m sorry I got you involved,” she mumbled.
“It’s not that. I love that you got me involved.” He took both of her hands and held them until she looked up at him. “I love being a part of your world. And despite almost dying last year, that was the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.” He laughed. “With the possible exception of tonight.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed each one. “I love what you are and I love you.”
Laurel smiled weakly.
“I just think we need help.”
“We have help,” Laurel insisted. “I’ve had faerie sentries watching my house for six months.”
“But where were they tonight?” David asked, the volume of his voice rising. “They weren’t there. Klea was there. Like it or not, she saved us and I think that earns her some trust.”
“So you want me to drive back and tell her everything? Tell her I’m a faerie and the real reason Barnes was after me?” Laurel asked hotly.
David took her hands and pressed them together between his. It was something he always did to help her calm down. She focused on their joined hands and took several long breaths. “Of course not,” David said softly. “There’s no reason for her to know anything more than she knows now. I just think you should trust her enough to accept some assistance. Not guards,” he said, before Laurel could protest, “but if she wants to keep an eye on us when we’re not at your house, is that such a bad thing?”
“I guess not,” Laurel mumbled.
“We put a lot of people in danger tonight, Laurel. Now, I know we’re going to be more careful in the future, but in case something like this happens again, don’t you want”—he lifted the gun, which was looking all too safe tucked into its holster—“another line of defense?”
“But is this really the best way? She just armed two minors, David. Do you have any idea how illegal that is?”
“But it’s for our own good! The law wouldn’t understand any of this. We have to take matters into our own hands.” He paused. “You weren’t worried about the law when Tamani killed those trolls last year.”
Laurel was silent for a long time. Then she straightened up and looked him in the face. “Have you ever shot someone, David?”
“Of course not.”
“Ever pointed a gun at someone?”
He shook his head.
“Watched someone get shot?”
He shook his head soberly now, and very slowly.
“I’ve done all three,” Laurel said, thumping her fingers hard against her chest. “After we escaped from Barnes, I had nightmares almost every night. I still have nightmares sometimes.”
“I do too, Laurel. It scared the hell out me.”
“Barnes scared the hell out of you, David. You know what scares me in my nightmares? Me. I scared the hell out of myself. Because I picked up that gun and I shot someone.”
“You had to.”
“Do you think that matters? I don’t care why I did it. The fact is that I did. And you never forget that feeling. That moment when the gun kicks back in your hand and you see blood appear on the person across from you. You never forget it, David. So excuse me if I don’t share your excitement at having another one forced on me.”
David was silent for a long time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I didn’t think.” He paused, then let out a frustrated sigh. “But you don’t really understand, either. You have faerie sentries and potions. I don’t have anything. Can you at least see why I feel more comfortable having come kind of defense?”
“A gun makes you feel big and powerful, does it?” Laurel shot off.
“No! It doesn’t make me feel powerful or more like a man, or whatever other stupid things people say in the movies. But it makes me feel like I’m doing something. Like I’m helping in some way. Is that so hard to understand?”
Laurel started to speak, then closed her mouth. He was right. “I guess not,” she mumbled.
“Besides,” David said with a tentative grin, “you know what a technology whore I am. Microscopes, computers, guns—I love them all.”
It took a few seconds, but she smiled back wanly. “That certainly is true. I remember you turning all CSI Lawson on me when I bloomed last year.” They both laughed—and though Laurel didn’t feel completely comfortable, at least she felt a little better.
SEVENTEEN
THEY PULLED INTO LAUREL’S DRIVEWAY AND, after a moment’s hesitation, threw open their doors and ran for the house. As soon as they were inside, Laurel turned and pushed the door shut—a little too hard—and the slam echoed through the dark house.
“Laurel?”
David and Laurel both jumped, their eyes turning toward the railing where Laurel’s mom peered down at them with sleepy eyes.
“Is everything okay? You slammed the door.”
“Sorry, Mom. It was an accident. We didn’t mean to wake you.”
She waved their concern aside. “I was up. Some animals have been fighting behind the house, dogs or something. Every time I drift off to sleep, it starts over again. I came down and made myself a cup of tea and things are quiet again. Hopefully for good this time.”
David and Laurel exchanged glances. She doubted very much that there were any dogs fighting behind her house.
“Did you have fun?”
“What?” Laurel asked, confused.
“The party. Was it fun?”
Laurel had almost forgotten. “Yeah,” she said, with forced cheerfulness. “It was awesome. Ryan’s house is totally gorgeous. And huge,” she added, hoping she didn’t sound too off. “You can go back to bed,” she said quickly. “David and I are going to watch a movie now. Is that okay?”
“I guess,” she said with a yawn. “Keep it down though, all right?”
“Yeah, sure,” Laurel said, pulling David toward the rec room.
“Dog fight?” David asked skeptically after they heard her mom’s door click shut.
“I know,” Laurel said, her voice worried. “The trolls have been busy tonight.” She peeked out through the blinds, peering into the darkness. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything, but she tried anyway. Guilt surged through her. She didn’t even want to consider the number of both humans and faeries she had put in danger tonight.
David came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.
“Please don’t,” she whispered.
He looked at his hands at her sides, then pulled them away and crossed them over his chest, his face confused.
“No, no,” she said soothingly, “it’s not you, it’s my blossom.” She groaned. “It hurts so much.” Now that the stress of the night was really over, the jabbing pain in her back was all she could think about. She fumbled with the knot on her sash, trying to get it undone, but her hands kept shaking. Tears built up in her eyes as she yanked on the sash, wanting nothing more than to get her injured petals free.
“Let me,” David said softly.
She gave up and stood still while David’s soft fingers worked out her hurried knots. He unwound the sash, pushed her shirt up in the back a little, and helped smooth her petals upward. Laurel clenched her teeth and sucked in a quick breath. It was almost as bad letting them loose as binding them down. Laurel pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes as she forced herself not to whimper. “Do you see any damage?” she asked.
David didn’t answer. She turned to look at him. His face wore an expression of pained horror.
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