Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (18 page)

They lined the entrance hall, silver frames against beige walls. They told the story of a relationship as I walked further inside, following Kailen and Owen. A photo of Kailen with a young woman, both smiling. Her long black hair was loose, framing a tanned face with brown eyes. Further on, a photo of the two of them on vacation on some tropical beach. Then hiking. Then getting married.

“Come in,” Kailen was saying. “Make yourselves at home. I've got the place heavily warded. And a witch put a charm of unseeing on it, years back. We can sit here for a while, and figure out what to do next.”

Toward the end of the hallway, I saw the last photos. Penny—I'd decided this was who it must be—still smiling, but her scalp bare. Looking thinner, paler, and older, but with Kailen still by her side.

Owen stopped when he saw that I had. He walked one step back to stand by my side. Kailen had already gone on into the living room. “You know,” Owen said from over my shoulder, “she looks a little like you.” And then he left, leaving me alone with the photographs, the track lighting above casting hard shadows onto the walls.

Kailen hadn't tried to save just any mortal's life. He'd tried to save his wife's. As I realized that, I also realized that Owen was right. She had the same shaped eyes, the same lips, the same cheekbones. Our noses were different, mine longer and straighter, hers curved and with a higher bridge. But we did look similar. Was this why Kailen had kissed me?

Kailen had settled into the living room with Owen and had poured himself a glass of whiskey. Owen took the seat opposite him. “I'll take one of those too, if you don't mind.” Kailen only shrugged, reached to the lower shelf on the coffee table, and produced another glass. Jane squeaked.

“You can have a sip of mine,” Owen said.

“I'm going to get some water,” I announced.

“Kitchen's to your right,” Kailen said. He sipped the whiskey.

I turned to the right and crept into the kitchen. The lights flickered on as I walked in. Motion sensors. I checked a few cupboards before finding the water glasses. When I went to the refrigerator, I paused. Opposite the fridge, on the wall, was a whiteboard, with “Chores” written in large letters at the top. On one side was written “Kailen” and on the other, “Penny.” A list of things had been written under Kailen's side. Penny's side was empty. It was, quite simply, the saddest thing I'd ever seen.

I turned to the fridge and pushed my glass against the water dispenser, a lump in my throat. Had he left everything in the house the way it had been before she'd died? Was he even over her?

I went to the living room and sat down on the rug, opposite Kailen. It felt too strange to pick which man to sit next to. Best avoid that completely.

“What you did with the hobgoblins was great,” Kailen said. He leaned forward. “You used two of your Talents—transformation and swordplay. You may have more, but I want you to focus on these.”

“What are your Talents?” I asked.

He ticked off fingers. “Swordplay, wards, and elicitation. I can do other things, but they take much more effort, and I can't do them with the same finesse that other Sidhe can. You're lucky that Maera passed her Talent for transformation on to you. It's an extremely powerful Talent, and one that will help you a great deal in the Arena.”

“But it probably won't help my popularity with the Fae families.”

Kailen shrugged. “Perhaps not. You'll eventually have to convince them that you're on their side if you want them to leave you alone. That or become so powerful that no one wants to mess with you. It could take a while.”

Owen stretched and yawned. “Can it wait until morning?”

Kailen shot him a flat look. “It
is
morning.”

“Maybe the Fae don't need to sleep,” Owen said, “but I'm exhausted, and the whiskey didn't help. Are you really going to send Nicole into the Arena without any rest?”

Now that Owen had mentioned it, I felt exhaustion seeping into my bones. After the police, their interrogation, my mother's confessions, and the fight with Dorian and the hobgoblins, I'd experienced enough chaos for five lifetimes. “He's right,” I said. “Can we get some sleep? Regroup in several hours?”

Kailen slumped. “Maybe you’re right. Nicole, you can take the bedroom.”

Owen looked to me and I saw the unspoken question in his eyes. Despite our conversation in the car earlier, I wasn't ready to let him back into my life, and certainly not my bed. Or Kailen's bed, more accurately.

Kailen caught the look and continued on. “Owen, you can sleep on the couch. I'll take the rug. Jane can curl up in one of my sweaters. Both of you can use whatever I have in my bathroom. It's opposite the kitchen. There are extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet. Take what you need.”

Without another word, Owen headed to the bathroom. I got up. “The bedroom?”

“Over there,” Kailen said, pointing past the living room. I headed toward it, Kailen on my heels. When I turned to look at him, he shrugged. “Linen closet is in the bedroom.”

A little apprehensive, I stepped through the doorway he’d indicated. The bedroom itself was sparse, neat. A white rug lay beneath the bed frame, a low square thing of dark wood and chrome. He flicked on the lights after I'd entered. “Nicole,” he said to me, his voice low. “What do you see in him, anyways?”

“What?” I turned, startled, and found Kailen close.

“In Owen. Why him?”

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, he's kind, and generous, and he can be surprisingly brave sometimes.” Why was I even defending him? Maybe it was because what Owen had said in the car rang true with me. I hadn't been a perfect wife.

“That may be so,” Kailen said. He bent his head toward mine, his breath stirring the hair over my ear. “But I think you're worth more than that.” His lips touched my cheek, softly, hesitantly, as if he waited for some sign of approval. I should have moved away, but my legs were frozen, my hands hanging uselessly at my sides. I’d never realized how large my hands were, how perfectly awkward, until right then.

And then his lips claimed mine, and I couldn’t move away, no longer wanted to. And why should I? Almost certain impending death had a way of putting things in perspective. I brought my hands up to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the muscle beneath. He tasted like honeysuckle, like that indefinable spice that clung to his skin. Desire swelled within me. It wasn't enough. I wanted to feel his bare skin against mine. I wanted him to kiss me harder, to lose myself in him and have him lose himself in me.

I ventured to trail my fingers down, over the ridges of his abs. He moaned against my lips in response, and then the need overcame me and I was tugging at the bottom of his shirt, my hands finding their way under it to the skin beneath. Kailen brought a hand up, fingers tangling in my hair. He tugged, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me gasp. I arched against him, my fingernails digging into his sides. He was a buoy, and I was lost at sea. I opened my eyes, briefly, and saw her picture on the wall.

Penelope.

It was like getting slapped in the gut with a cold, wet fish. Kailen pressed his mouth to mine, but I pushed back. “No. I can't. This is too weird.”

“Nicole,” he said, voice husky.

If he kissed me again, if he so much as touched me, I wouldn't be able to resist. I swallowed and took a step away. If I wasn't careful, Owen would be sleeping on the couch, and I'd have Kailen in my bed. His bed. Whatever. “Are you even over her?”

To his credit, Kailen took a moment. “Who?”

I looked pointedly at the photograph of Penelope. He turned and saw it, and his face went pale. “It's been five years,” he whispered. “Five years since I tried to save her life. Yes, I think of her often. She was a very special woman.” He swallowed. “Very special.”

“Is there room for more than one very special person in a person's lifetime? Even a Fae lifetime?”

Kailen's shoulders slumped. “I don't know. I just know I haven't felt this way about anyone, not in a long time.”

A door opened. Owen, in the bathroom. Kailen went to the linen closet, his step like that of a wind-up doll's. He pulled out some blankets and left, without another word.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd held and sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking beneath my weight. Kissing Kailen had seemed like a good idea in the moment. And things might have gone further than that if I hadn't seen Penelope's picture. The place was practically a shrine to their relationship and marriage.

Footsteps sounded from the hall and Owen appeared in the doorway, dressed down to his boxers. “You okay?” he asked.

I hoped I didn't look guilty. But why would I have any reason to feel guilty? I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye. “Fine, thanks.”

He shrugged and walked back to the living room.

I had a hard time falling asleep. The bed was comfortable enough, but the sheets and pillows smelled like Kailen, evoking memories of his lips and arms with every inward breath. He’d kissed me like I meant everything to him. Was that what Owen had felt with Jane?

I was reading too much into it. It was a kiss, and I was a grown woman with life-or-death problems, not a wide-eyed teenager with nothing better to do.

I flopped over in the bed and shimmied for the edge. Maybe a drink of water would help me sleep, or a quick walk around the condo. Kailen had lent me one of his T-shirts and a pair of drawstring flannel pants. It was still chilly, so I grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders.

The door opened silently. I crept across the living room. Owen was laid out on the couch, head back, resting on the cushion of his curly hair, arm hanging over the edge. Kailen had folded the rug in half and lay beneath a blanket, arms at his sides, sword directly next to him. It made sense that he looked disciplined even in sleep.

Next to the coffee table, curled up in one of Kailen's sweaters, was Mousy Jane. She looked almost cute—her paws curled beneath her, head tucked near her tail. I stopped to contemplate her form. I hadn't exactly been fair to her, not from the very beginning. So what if she looked like a mouse? Maybe she shouldn't have pursued a married man, but was it really my place to judge her and then to turn her into a mouse? It was Owen’s duty to honor his vows, not hers. And as Owen had pointed out to me earlier, I wasn't innocent of all faults, either. I'd been angry for the past three days, with little break for any other emotion except confusion. What was done was done.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. I remembered Jane as I'd seen her, as a person, hairy lip and all. No headache this time. I let the image fill my mind as I let out my breath, pushed it into reality. Forgiveness.

When I opened my eyes, Jane lay on the floor in front of me, still curled in a ball on top of Kailen's sweater. I pulled the blanket from my shoulders, laid it over her naked form, and then touched the blanket to dispel the scent of chocolate. I'd set one thing right in the world.

I didn't even go into the kitchen for the glass of water. I wandered back to Kailen's room in a haze, all emotion and energy drained from my body. The bed met my tired hands, cradled my body, filling my mind with honeysuckle.

I AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF voices in the living room. Kailen and Owen, hushed, low. I rose and stretched. Light crept in from the window to my right, between the vertical blinds, falling in slats across the plum-colored comforter. It took me a few minutes, but I remembered the events of the night before. Had I dreamed turning Jane back into a person, or had I actually done it? I rose and made my way into the living room.

Both Kailen and Owen turned to me as I entered. “She's gone,” Kailen said. “She left this morning. She didn't want to be around when you got up.”

So it had been real. I couldn't blame Jane. If an infuriated woman had turned me into a mouse, and then back into a person four days later, I would have hightailed it out of the vicinity before she changed her mind yet again. I scratched my head, feeling the tangles in my thick black hair. “Well, what's he still doing here then?” I said, nodding my head in Owen's direction.

“I'm still here because I care about what happens to you,” he said. “Jane's done with me. She told me she wasn't going to press charges against you, mostly because she knows her story would just sound crazy. She wants her purse back, but after that, she never wants to hear from me again. We're over.”

I heard the implication in the last two words—do
we
still have a chance?

“I need...I need coffee,” I said. Before either Owen or Kailen could get to their feet, I headed to the kitchen myself. Kailen had said to make myself at home, so I opened cupboards until I found the things I needed. Thank goodness Kailen, though Fae, still believed in the power of caffeine. I set the drip going and leaned against the counter. I'd forgiven Owen, forgiven Jane. Even now, when I conjured the image of them in bed together, I felt next to nothing. It was as though I'd drained the anger, like lancing a blistered wound.

“I'm ordering breakfast delivered,” Kailen called out from the living room. “What did you want?”

“Owen knows what I like,” I said back, and immediately regretted it. Way to go, Nicole. Make an awkward situation even more so.

I took my finished coffee into the living room. “There's more in the pot if you want any.”

“Back to practicing,” Kailen said. He reached for the shelf under the coffee table and pulled out a silver coaster. “Can you turn this into a shield?”

I put my mug down and looked at Owen, really looked at him. He had that slightly baffled look on his face, the one he wore when he wasn't quite sure what to do or say. I breathed in, tried to imagine the coaster as a shield. But when I reached for my anger at Owen's cheating, I found nothing.

I breathed out. “Say something,” I said to Owen.

“What?”

“I don't know.” I frowned. “Tell me how I wasn't there for you.”

“You weren't there for me.”

“I was busy working,” I replied. It didn't hold the heat, or the passion, that it had before. Now that the anger had seeped away from me, fear crept in to take its place. If I couldn't perform any magic, I couldn't defend myself in the Arena. If the Guardians came for me now, I'd be defenseless. I dropped my head and the blood rushed to my temples. “I can't do it,” I said. “The anger—it's gone. I've overcome the block, but now I don't have anything left.”