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Authors: Jennifer Watts

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“Thank you, Nissa, it looks great.”

“With legs like those you would look amazing in a garbage bag.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask seriously and she
squeezes my shoulders.

“I have a unique ability to see people for what they really are. I can tell when they are genuine and good hearted or when they are fake and malicious and you, darling, are the former.”

“Is that one of your supernatural powers?” I ask, studying my reflection in her mirror. “No Lily, it’s one of my very intuitive female powers. You have them too; maybe you just need to listen to them more.”

* *

“This isn’t the school gym." I say, my mouth hanging open.

“Why would I take you to the gym?” I watch as the confusion flits across her face. “Back home they hold school dances in the gym with
streamers hanging from the basketball hoops and balloons tied to the bleachers… ” I trail off.

“Well that just sounds unsanitary.” She sniffs.

The dance is being held in an actual ballroom. Three massive
crystal chandeliers, ones my mom would have called ‘ostentatious’, hang from a gold inlaid ceiling and add a warm glow to the polished marble floor. Large arched windows line the right wall and bar height tables with burgundy tablecloths are positioned along the left. Candles are flickering on every
surface and at the center of each table is a crystal vase stuffed with a red-tipped white rose. The only modern touch in the room is the raised floor stage complete with a DJ booth and huge black speakers. Most of the girls are
wearing ball gowns and I breathe out a sigh of relief that my sundress was stolen as it would have been totally out of place here.

“Not what you expected?” Nissa raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“It’s nothing like I expected. Thank you again for saving
me.” I smile and she shakes her head.

“Do not even mention it. All that’s left to do now is ditch that ape of a date and find a nice-looking boy to dance with. Have fun! I am
going to look for Cai and we’ll find you later.” She air kisses my cheeks before weaving through the crowd and I notice how striking she looks striking in her deep purple floor length dress. I sigh, remembering that I had agreed to meet up with Tristan. I had actually totally forgotten about our ‘date’ until
Nissa mentioned it. I spot him walking across the room toward me in his black tuxedo with a big smile stretched across his face.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here.” He greets
me and links his arm through mine.

“Sorry I’m late. I had a fashion emergency.” I mumble.

“You look incredible. Want to dance?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, instead pulling me on to the packed dance floor and sliding his arms
around my waist. That’s another thing I notice right away - everyone is actually dancing and not pressed against the walls or congregating around the punch bowl. It makes me wonder if supernatural’s even drink punch but I shake
off the errant thought and look at Tristan. “Your face is so expressive. I would love to know what you are thinking right now.” He laughs as he spins me around in a circle.

“Nothing important.” When he twirls me back around to face
him I am struck again by his All-American good looks. Though he is not much taller than me he definitely has the features that most girls would drool over: light hair, light eyes and dimples. He’s handsome but not in an intimidating way and his body is a column of solid muscle. So I wonder why when I look into his
eyes I feel absolutely nothing — not even the slightest spark of attraction. As if he can somehow sense my lack of interest he pulls me against his chest, forcing me to prop my chin on his bulky shoulder. He’s been so nice
to me and the last thing I want to do is lead him on. While I’m thinking that maybe taking me to the dance is just his way of being nice to the new girl his hands slide down my back and graze the top of my butt. Maybe not. I am saved
from having to move his roaming hands by the group of fairies who arrive. They are laughing and talking loudly and one of the guys whoops and calls out Tristan’s name, so he grabs my hand and pulls me over to them. When I spot Kennedy at the center of the group I freeze. She is wearing a tight red
mermaid-style dress with a sweetheart neckline that leaves nothing to the imagination and slides over her every one of her curves like liquid. She fills out the dress well and easily looks closer to twenty-seven than seventeen. That’s
when I notice Luca standing off to the side leaning against one of the tall tables. He is wearing a dark charcoal suit which is perfectly tailored to his body and a black dress shirt underneath that is open at the neck. He looks
sexy, a little dangerous and totally unapproachable. The rest of the fairy group moves past us on to the dance floor but Kennedy stays behind.

“What’s this, Tristan? Are you doing your charity work for the year?” She looks me up and down and smirks and Tristan shoves her
playfully.

“Now I told you to be nice, Kennedy.” He chastises but she ignores him and leans into me.

“Hand-me-downs I see. What, didn’t your parents leave you
any money? Or did they prove to be selfish even in death?” I recoil at her words and it feels like I’ve been slapped in the face. I would’ve preferred it if she’d just hit me. I glance sideways at Luca to see if he’s hearing this but he’s just standing there with his head bowed and brows furrowed. Tristan, who
seems to think everything is a joke, mock-scolds her while I stand there with my mouth agape.

“Why do you hate me so much? I don’t even know you.” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Hate? You are not even worth the emotion. I simply have no use for you and I think that you should go back to wherever you came from.” When she sneers her gums pull back over her teeth making her look like a feral
animal. I’m debating whether to burst into tears or gouge her eyes out with my bare hands when the music switches off and a familiar voice comes over the loud speaker.

“Welcome, Ex Nihilo, to the first dance of the year but certainly not the last! I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to a
new student. Are you out there, Lily? Can you please come up to the stage?” Being introduced publicly is almost worse in my mind than taking my chances with Kennedy, but I like Lucinda and I don’t want to disappoint her. I slowly
walk over and climb the stage to stand beside her, noticing that her platinum hair looks almost white in the light of the chandeliers. “Everyone, this is Lily Hughes. She recently relocated from San Diego and I’d like to ask you all
to treat her like family and give her the warm welcome she deserves. Would you like to say a few words?” She hands me the microphone and I am momentarily paralyzed. Public speaking is definitely worse that having my hair pulled out
by Kennedy. I mutter a pathetic ‘hello’ into the microphone and I’m about to slink off stage when I see one of the massive speakers bearing down on me. It’s all happening so fast and it’s too late to jump out of the way so I put my hands up to shield myself. Just as the speaker is about to come crashing down
on top of me my body is thrown to the side. I land off stage with a hard thump and it knocks all of the air out of my lungs. I am gasping and trying to draw in breath but there is a weight on top of me. Luca. I hear yelling all around
me and I see movement in my peripheral vision but everything else is a blur. He is cradling the back of my head and the only thing I can see clearly is him: the flecks of gold in his espresso colored eyes, the curve of his full lower
lip, and the firmness of his chest pressed against mine. He smells clean, like soap and shampoo with a hint of spicy cologne. He looks at me expectantly as if he’s waiting for me to speak.

“What?” I manage to croak while sucking in a short breath of
air.

“I asked if you are alright.” He repeats and I concentrate on the silky smoothness of his voice. I don’t speak and for a few seconds as we lay there staring at each other. When he finally stands I can sense the shift
in him as he hoists me to me feet. Whatever door had briefly opened has quickly closed and won’t be opening again anytime soon.

“Thank you.” I say as all the heat rushes to my face.

“It’s not a big deal. I just didn’t want all the vampires in
here licking your blood up off the floor.” He says it abruptly then turns away from me.

“You saved my life. That’s a pretty big deal to me.” I say quietly.

“Don’t read too much into it because I’m not interested in
you that way. Trust me when I say that I’ve been burned by enough fairies to know that your kind is bad news.” He says it matter-of-factly but it still cuts deep.

“You don’t know me at all.” I whisper.

“Let’s keep it that way.” He stalks off into the crowd, elbowing by Tristan who’s rushing toward me.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” He’s making a big show of checking my arms for cuts and bruises and running his hands through my hair.

“Fine.” I say tersely and I notice over his shoulder that Kennedy is shooting daggers at me from across the room. “What’s her problem?” I incline my head in her direction and he looks back.

“Who knows? She’s probably just bent out of shape because you were talking to Luca. She’s still pretty territorial when it comes to him even though they broke up last year.” So Luca is her ex. Of course he is. Just when I thought things for me couldn’t get any worse.

 

Chapter 6: I’m with the Band

When my first weekend of freedom from Ex Nihilo finally rolls around I vow not to waste it by moping around the depressing old manor. The sky is gray and overcast as I set out down the path to the road. I’m about
five minutes into my walk when I realize that I have no idea where I am going. I had been so distracted when Niall drove me here last week that I failed to pay attention to how far it was from town, and from the clouds in the sky it
looks like the rain is about to start. I sigh and continue on, kicking at the loose rocks along the road with my shoe. I’m going to have to speak to my trustee about the possibility of getting a car and a cell phone, not that I have anyone to call since my friends in So Cal have probably already forgotten
about me. A loud honk interrupts my thoughts and I jump back from the road. Rowan is sitting behind the wheel of that beast of a truck and he stops to yell at me from the open window.

“Can I give you a ride?” I stare at him through the windshield and his navy blue eyes pierce into mine.

“I guess it depends on whose driving: Rowan the carefree laid-back guy driving into town for the day or Rowan the angry groundskeeper
who slinks around glaring at me all the time?”

“You’ve got some cheek on you now, don’t you? First of all I’m six-foot-five - I don’t slink anywhere and second I’m not angry. Not at you anyway.” He says the last part more quietly and I pat the hood of the truck in
response and motion for him to carry on. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you later.”

“Just get in the damn truck, Lily. It’s a long walk to town and it’s about to rain.” He shouts and I glare at him and the sky in turn.
Self-preservation finally wins out and a few seconds later I’m belted into the front seat beside him. He tells me the radio is broken so we ride in silence, with me stealing glances at him every so often. He has the arm that’s covered
in the sleeve of intricate black tattoos draped over the side of the truck while the other expertly steers the windy road. He is wearing worn, faded blue jeans and a Motorhead t-shirt under a fitted gray coat. He looks over at me,
his eyes traveling the line of my neck and down to my outfit.

“You do know that you’re in Ireland, right?” He’s obviously referring to my white shorts and pink Roxy zip-up and I can feel my cheeks heating. What is it with people commenting on my attire?

“I have layers on.” I snap back.

“Well at least you had the sense to wear trainers.” He nods his head at my favorite blue Chuck Taylors and chuckles to himself before turning his eyes back to the road. A few minutes later we enter the village of
Strangford and I immediately recognize the dock that Niall stopped at on the drive in.

“You can just drop me off here.” I say, shifting impatiently in my seat.

“What kind of host would I be if I did that?” He says
seriously and I roll my eyes and laugh.

“The non-existent kind?” I say, confused. He doesn’t answer back as he pulls into a parking spot across from the town centre.

“Come on then.” He switches off the ignition and hops out of the truck. I shake my head and slide out of the car after him, trying my best to figure out why he’s acting like a different person all of the sudden. We walk past a row of shops that are painted white and yellow and a gift shop
before Rowan stops in front of a small café.

“Coffee?” He asks and I nod appreciatively and follow him in. I’ve been missing my morning Starbucks but I’m too embarrassed to tell
Niall that I don’t know how to work the elaborate coffee maker in the kitchen. The bell on the door chimes as we walk in and Rowan waves to the girl behind the counter, whose eyes widen appreciatively when she sees him. He doesn’t seem to notice her reaction as he orders two lattes, soy milk for me, and leads me back
outside with the steaming cups.

“It’s not raining yet. Are you brave enough to walk down to the terrace?” I nod in agreement and we walk back to the ferry dock and sit at a
wooden bench right across from the water. We sip our coffees in a comfortable silence as a ray of sun peaks through the clouds and warms my face. Add to that the sound of the waves lapping the stone wall, the smell of sea salt and the screeching sea gulls and I almost feel like I’m home. Almost.

“How are you enjoying the new school?” Rowan breaks the silence first.

“It’s okay, I guess. It’s not like anything I’m used to.” I say truthfully.

“I hear that Ex Nihilo is very prestigious. I’ve met a few
kids from there before. They come into town from time to time but mostly keep to themselves. That is if we’re lucky.” He says the last bit under his breath.

“You don’t seem to think much of the place, or the people
for that matter.”

“Let’s just say we don’t get along. It’s a rivalry that goes back a long time.”

“What Greasers verses Socs? Jets verses Sharks?” I tease and
he snorts.

“You are way too young for either of those pop culture references, but yes something like that.”

“What can I say I like old movies. Who doesn’t love ‘The Outsiders’ or ‘West Side Story’? And it’s not like you were around for them
either. What are you like twenty?” I say, draining the last of my latte.

“Eighteen.”

“And you’ve never thought about college?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it. It’s just my father… I
have responsibilities here… it’s complicated.” I stand up and walk my empty cup over to the garbage can to where group of guys in their early teens are openly staring at me. One leans over and whispers something to his friends and they
all laugh. I walk back and sit down next to Rowan. “What’s there problem?” I frown and he shakes his head good-humoredly.

“It’s not a problem, really. They are gawking at you because you’re beautiful.” Rowan thinks I’m beautiful? The thought sends a jolt right
through me and I have to look away.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m afraid I do, but you cannot fault a man for looking at a pretty girl. Anyway, you seem like the type who can take care of herself.”
His observation makes me simultaneously blush and smile.

“So how’s your girlfriend?” I ask and it’s his turn to blush.

“She’s fine. She’s very busy at school.” His says in a
clipped voice.

“What’s her name?”

“Jenny.” He shifts away from me and clears his throat.

“I get the feeling you don’t want to talk about Jenny.”

“You’d be right about that feeling.”

“Okay, message received. So what is there to do for fun around here?” Sensing his discomfort I try to change the subject.

“Not much.” He laughs. “But if you don’t have plans tomorrow
night you should come and see my band play. We have a show at a pub in Portaferry just across the way.” “You’re in a band? That is so cool. What kind of music do you play?” I am genuinely impressed.

“It’s sort of a mix of punk and alternative.”

“Wait, you are playing in a pub? How am I even supposed to get in?” I consider this and he just shrugs.

“It’s Ireland. Anyone can come in.”

“I will definitely come then. Music has gotten me through a
lot of hard times so I always try and pay my respects.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I feel the same way. Music is my second great love.”

“And what is your first?” I say playfully and he stares back
at me, his eyes serious.

“I’ll let you know.”

* *

The old truck that Rowan insisted I drive is idling at the dock as I wait for the ferry to arrive. He left earlier with his band to set up
so I’m stuck getting to Portaferry on my own. The boats are supposed to come every half an hour and I check my watch, which reads almost seven thirty. There are only a few cars waiting and they are lined up on the slipway behind me. I glance down to check my outfit for the tenth time since I left the house. I’m
wearing a white American Apparel tank dress under a dark wash jean jacket and navy cork wedges that wrap around my ankles. For jewelry I have on the simple silver pendant my mom gave me and diamond studs. I went with my usual make up
of mascara, lip stain and a bit of bronzer and I blow dried my hair straight. It’s been awhile since my last visit to the hairdresser and it’s grown out so it’s now touching between my shoulder blades. I try and tell myself that I’ve
dressed up for no one but me and that it couldn’t possibly be because a guy with a pair of deep set, dark blue eyes and impossibly long lashes has asked me to come and watch him play.

“He has a girlfriend.” I mutter to myself as the ferry
arrives and we load on to it. Once I’m on board I buy a ticket and then roll down the windows to enjoy the cool evening air. The water is calm with only a few sailboats dotting the horizon and the sky is streaked with orange and
indigo from the fading sunset. It is beautiful and it makes me think of home and I’m hit by a sudden wave of incredible sadness.

We unload from the ferry and I park on the street and walk to the pub, which I find just a few streets over. It is in a boxy white
building with green shuttered windows that is located on a narrow one-way street. I can hear the music blaring from inside and people are spilling out from the open front doors. I elbow my way through the crowd which is mostly
young, except for a few old men flanking the bar and a few end-of-season tourists that have that deer-in-headlights look that I only recognize because I’ve worn it myself.

I order myself a coke and push my way to the front. The last
band has just finished up and Rowan is making his way on stage with his guitar in hand. His eyes find me and he smiles, totally ignoring the girl to my right who is shrieking at him. I feel a surge of pleasure that he’s singled me out given all of the girls who have flocked to the stage. He’s wearing black jeans
with motorcycle boots and a fitted gray dress skirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with a skinny tie. His mop of auburn curls fall all around his face and he runs a hand through it before waving to his band to join him on stage.

“Hello everyone! We are ‘The Fallen Ones’ and we thank you for being here tonight.” His voice is warm and deep as it echoes through the crowd. There are three others in the band, all blond-haired, broad and easily
as tall as Rowan’s six foot five inches. I’m immediately struck by how handsome and commanding they all are. They start into their set and the music is just as Rowan promised - punk with a softer more melodic edge. His voice is rich and
mournful and he looks right at me when he sings. His eyes search mine and I blush and look away feigning interest in the décor of the bar instead. The place is low ceilinged with dark wood panels on the walls and floor. Vintage bar signs advertising different Irish beers are mounted above the bar and there
is an unlit fireplace in the corner with an all-too-familiar vampire standing beside it. Luca is dressed from head to toe in black clothing that looks more expensive than my entire wardrobe combined. His mahogany hair is slicked back
and his full lips are twisted into a smirk. The way he stares back at me makes me suddenly feel very self-conscious. How long has he been looking at me? A group of students I recognize from school are sitting at a table beside him
talking and laughing but he just stands there staring in a way that makes my stomach flutter, so I stick out my tongue at him and turn back to the stage. I wish I could say that I’m surprised he’s here but I’m not considering there are no other options for entertainment in this hellhole county. I glance over at
the fireplace again and he’s gone.

“Enjoying the show, princess?” He whispers in my ear and I just about jump out of my skin. He is standing beside me now, leaning against a
wooden post.

“Yes, actually.” I recover myself while wondering if his new nickname for me is meant as a term of endearment or an insult.

“What brings you to Portaferry?” He asks.

“My friend is in the band.” I gesture at the stage.

“Your ‘friend’? So you’re sleeping with the enemy now? That didn’t take long.” There is an edge to his voice that I can’t quite read. I scowl at him and repress the urge to slap the self-satisfied look right off his
face.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone and what exactly do you mean by the enemy? Are you referring to humans?” He ignores my question and just shakes his head. “What are you doing here then? Isn’t a place like this filled
with the ‘enemy’?” I mock whisper, rolling my eyes.

“There are a few of us from school come into town to mingle with the locals. It’s a lot like watching animals at the zoo. And if I’m lucky a beautiful girl might stick her tongue out at me every once in awhile.” His
voice is smooth and confident, laced with just a trace of his Italian accent. He moves close enough so that our toes touching and I can feel my heart beat speed up. He must feel it too because he raises an eyebrow in question.

“Look, if you don’t mind I’m trying to hear the music.” I say as I step away, embarrassed by the way my body’s betraying me.

“I’m sure it’s the music you are interested in.” He shoots a
pointed look at Rowan. “Why are you still here?” I raise my voice and shove against his chest, which feels like slapping my hands against a brick wall, but he just captures my hands in his and holds them against him.

“Let me go.” My heart beat is now thudding in my ears.
Rowan’s band has finished their set and out of the corner of my eye I see him on stage watching the exchange between Luca and I. He doesn’t look impressed. I push past Luca through the crowd and make my way outside. I can’t figure out
why he has such a problem with me or why he even cares what I’m doing here. The street is crowded out front and I decide that I need some air so I cross the road to stand on the opposite curb. I want to head back in to tell Rowan how
good they were but I need a minute to myself first. The air is cold enough that I have goose bumps on my arms and legs so I pull my jacket tight around my body and rub my hands together. It is pitch black out and the only illumination on the road is headlights moving toward me that are getting brighter as they near.
That’s when two things happen simultaneously: to the left I see Rowan emerge from the bar with his hand raised in a wave and to the right I see a sleek black sports car jump the curb as it races toward me on the sidewalk. I stumble
backwards and the car swerves into my path mirroring my movement. I hear Rowan yell right before I feel the pressure of two strong arms wrapping around my waist and pushing me out of the way. Seconds later my chest is crushed against
a brick building and I try to struggle out of the hold.

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