Stolen Away (13 page)

In fact, I was so tired, I was seeing two of Hot Guy.

He bent down and scooped me up against his chest. I let my arms dangle, like I was floating. “You’re so pretty,” I mumbled.

“And you’re a fool,” he said darkly. “You stink of hawthorn smoke.”

He stepped sideways, and suddenly we weren’t in an alley sticky with spilled garbage and thick with arrows anymore.
We were in a small room with a ceiling of dangling tree roots and lanterns. The only light came from those lanterns, candles flickering, their light filtering through jewel-colored glass. There was a carved bed piled with blankets and hung with blue velvet curtains, and an old-fashioned hutch filled with books. The heavy wooden door was bolted shut.

I was safe, cradled in the arms of a moody, beautiful boy. His heart thundered loudly against my ear. He let me go and I slid down his body. His T-shirt had turned into a black medieval-style tunic edged with blue embroidery somewhere along the way. And I was now wearing a matching blue velvet dress, like ice over a stormy lake. It had long bell sleeves and silver ribbons. My hair was wrapped in a pearl snood. I touched the silver bracelets on my wrists, confused.

“Fae glamour,” he whispered. He stood very still, like a dog expecting to get kicked.

“You’re Fae,” I said, details suddenly fitting together like puzzle pieces. The water witching, what he knew about hawthorn trees, the fact that he kept appearing out of nowhere. The way his kisses made me feel as if I were falling. “Is that where I am? In Faerie? Where’s Devin? And did you cure me?” I pushed up my sleeves. There were little scratches and pinpricks on my skin, but I didn’t feel sick or lethargic anymore. “Those arrows made me feel funky.”

“Elf-shot,” he explained. “I can only cure you as long as you’re here. You’d need salt in your world. But this is my
own small corner of the world, where no one can intrude, not even my father.”

“And Devin?” I pressed. “Is he here too?” It didn’t seem likely, unless he was under the bed.

“No.”

I gaped at him. “He’s still at the flat getting attacked?” I grabbed his hand. “Take me back! Right now!”

“So you can die too?” His voice was harsh.

I felt all the blood drain out of my head. “Devin can’t die.”

“He might not. If he’s strong enough.”

“Take me back!” I punched his shoulder for emphasis.

“We still have time,” he said, gripping my wrist tightly when I went to punch him again. “Time runs differently here. A few more minutes here will be less than seconds for him.”

“Do you promise?”

He inclined his head. “Would it matter if I did?”

“Of course it would.” He was different here. Which was the real him? Hot Guy? Or the one I’d walked the fields with? Or this one?

His eyes glittered. “Then yes, I promise.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay.”

“You could stay,” he suggested. “With me.”

“Am I trapped here?”

He shook his head. His expression was cold and haughty, but there was something else in his eyes, something that hurt to look at.

I wondered suddenly if Eloise was here. After all, how many doors to the Fae world were there in Rowan? I tried to whirl around to get to the door, but he was still holding my wrist. He didn’t let go, even when I tugged.

“I can’t protect you out there,” he said.

“Who are you really?” I whispered. We were close enough that I could see the odd gray flecks in his eyes, the angle of his sideburns along his jaw. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he just dropped my arm abruptly. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were so dark and intense that my mouth went dry. He rolled up his sleeve, showing a tattoo of a leaping stag with ivy in its antlers. I’d seen that same design on Eloise’s medallion.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m a Hart.” He smiled, but it was sharp and derisive. He jerked his sleeve back down. “Like your friend Eloise.”

“I … You know Eloise?” I asked, head spinning. “Is she here?”

I went for the door again. I managed to pull it open a few inches before he was behind me, slamming it shut. I pulled and he pushed. He was stronger than me. It was infuriating. I turned around to glare at him. His arm was extended, palm flat against the door right by my head.

I suddenly wondered, for the first time, if I should be afraid of him.

My pulse stuttered in my throat. He smiled again, just
as mocking. Only I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or himself.

“You’re in a rath under the ground,” he said, caging me with his body even though he wasn’t even touching me. “If you go through that door, you’ll end up buried in earth or in another rath. I can guarantee they won’t look kindly on the intrusion. You wouldn’t like the reception.”

My head was starting to spin. “This is insane.” I glanced down at my gown again. “I feel like I’m in one of Devin’s fantasy novels, or a Dungeons and Dragons game or something.”

He crowded me. “This isn’t a storybook,” he said menacingly. He blinked, and I was wearing my regular clothes, my long skirt smeared with dirt, my hair a dusty, sweaty tangle. He wore his torn jeans again, his scuffed boots. He leaned in so that I had to look up to meet his eyes. They were inscrutable. His hair fell forward, veiling us from the soft light.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said evenly. My heart was pounding, but it wasn’t fear I was feeling. Not exactly.

“Then you really are a fool.” He pushed away, his hands dropping to his sides. “My name is Eldric Strahan,” he said.

My eyes widened until they hurt. “Shite.” Not exactly my most poetic of responses.

“You’ve heard of our illustrious family,” he drawled, and bowed. It was a horrible, polite, sophisticated movement. It was graceful and sarcastic, and it made me want to kick him.

“Don’t do that,” I said quietly.

He straightened. “You should hate me.”

“Why? You just saved my life.”

“My father stole your friend away.”

“Did you help him?”

“No.” His sullen mouth crooked with a sad smile. “But I didn’t hinder him either.”

“So you can make up for it by helping us now,” I insisted. “Come back with me. Help us break Eloise out.”

“Or you could stay with me.” His arm slipped around my waist, drawing me against him. His voice caressed me, struck sparks of longing in my belly. “We could run away,” he murmured, brushing his lips lightly over my temple to my ear. “We could go anywhere, be anyone. Let them fight their battles without us.” His teeth bit gently down on my earlobe. I shivered, clutching at his arms.

“We could go to Provence and live on a lavender farm and eat brioche every morning.” I turned my head so I was smiling against his lips as I wove another daydream. “Or to Scotland and live in a castle with ghosts and sheep.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.

“Exactly,” he said, and kissed me so slowly it made me want to cry. Our breaths mingled, became one. “Anything you want, Jo.”

“I just want you,” I returned softly. Then I forced myself to step back. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. “But I can’t.”

He closed his eyes for a long, painful moment. When he opened them again they were stark and hollow. Something
inside me broke. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, forcing myself not to throw myself at him.

“You want to go back,” he said flatly.

“You know it’s not that simple.”

“It is. If you won’t stay here with me, and you won’t run away with me, then this is good-bye.”

I felt cold all over. “No.”

“It has to be.” He turned his head away, his hair blocking his expression.

“Eldric, please.”

He flinched at his name. But when he tossed his hair off his face, he was smiling. I hated that smile. “I could refuse to bring you back,” he said.

I looked at him steadily. “You won’t.”

“How can you trust me still?” he asked furiously.

“Do you trust me?”

He remained stubbornly silent.

“You do,” I told him. “I know you do. For the same reason I trust you.” I didn’t tell him I loved him. But I wanted to. “What about Devin?” I asked. “Can you rescue him too? Please?”

He nodded sharply and then took my hand. He didn’t say anything, didn’t stroke my wrist with his thumb, didn’t even look at me. He stepped back and fell away into nothing, pulling me with him. It was like the sudden drop of a roller coaster, the feeling that there’s nothing under you and you might fall forever.

We landed in Eloise’s rooftop garden, with the sun glaring down on us. He vanished again and reappeared in the next second, dropping a weak and cursing Devin beside me. I felt the venom of the arrows running through me again, pressing on me like rocks. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the long, silent look Eldric gave me before he disappeared.

I landed on our couch.

My mother was just coming out of the kitchen when she saw me fall out of nowhere, followed by a boy dressed like King Arthur. She made a sound like “
yaaargl!
” and then threw her cup right into the air. She didn’t even blink when hot tea rained over her. Elvis yowled and tore off.

I struggled to sit up, trapped by yards of petticoats. Lucas groaned as he tried to free his knee, which was jammed under an end table. Mom just stood there, lips trembling. I launched myself at her, and she came to her senses just in time to catch me. We staggered clumsily, but she didn’t let go. “I’m murdering that rat bastard Strahan and you’re grounded forever.” She pulled away, surveying me closely. “Did he hurt you?” She looked into my eyes like a doctor, ran
her hands over my shoulders and down my arms. “Oh, look at your wrists. I
will
kill him.”

Lucas took a step back. Mom could be scary at the best of times with her tattoos and tight jeans, but she was really,
really
scary when she was angry.

“It’s nothing. Antonia came and sent us home somehow.” I hugged her again. “Where is she?”

Mom frowned, wiping tea off her face. “I don’t know. I still can’t reach her. I was just about to call one of her weird friends. They always know more than they should.”

“You mean, she’s not here?” I spun around to Lucas, agitated as a wet cat. “She’s not here!”

He tugged his coat back into place. “Strahan has her.”

Mom paled. “What do you mean, Strahan has her?” She sank weakly into a chair. “This is not good.”

“So she’s stuck there?” I asked Lucas. “We have to get her back.”

Mom gave me the evil eye before she went to put the kettle on. I knew she was making rose hip tea. Crises of any kind were tamed with rose hip tea. “You aren’t going anywhere, young lady.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think you can really effectively ground a girl who was just chained to a wall.”

The kettle nearly toppled out of her hand. “What?”

Oops. Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. Parents had such a habit of overreacting. Lucas was poking around the apartment, looking at our books and art and family photos.

“You are so like her,” he whispered, staring at Mom. “Like the queen. I never even knew she had a twin,” he added. “Until recently.”

“She made a bargain, a long time ago, so no one would know and use me in her place. And when Eloise was born, she set a glamour on her so she would be invisible to the Fae. But glamours only last so long before the magic runs out.”

“And it started to fade just this past week,” I said softly, remembering what Strahan had said. “And I started remembering things.”

“Yes,” Lucas agreed. “We looked for ages before I saw you eating ice cream. We’ve been searching for you since we unexpectedly caught scent of your bloodline. We thought you might be Antonia’s.”

“She’s mine,” Mom said fiercely. “So you can all back off. Now.”

“It’s a little late for that.” I hugged a cow-shaped cushion to my chest just because it was soft and familiar. It was the one I used as a pillow when I wasn’t feeling well. “And you have
so
been keeping secrets. I might be really mad at you for that later.” Right now I was too glad to be out of Strahan’s Hall.

Mom measured dried tea into the pot, added boiling water. Her hands were shaking, even though she was trying to look so calm. “And who are you, by the way?” she asked Lucas, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, I forgot,” I said. “Lucas Richelieu, this is my mom, Jasmine Hart. Lucas went to Strahan’s rath to rescue me.”

She looked at him steadily. “You get chocolate cake.”

I nudged him, smiling. “That means she likes you. She doesn’t make it for just anyone. Even on my birthday, I have to beg.”

He bowed, polite as the out-of-time gentleman he appeared to be. Never mind that there was blood on his hands and his collar was torn.

“Richelieu?” Mom said. “Sounds familiar. What are you? Deer? Dog? Badger?”

“We are from the Hawk clan, distant cousin to your own Deer people.”

“They’re not my people.”

“You’d be surprised.”

I sat up straighter. “Hey. A hawk chased away my bully in the park.”

Mom frowned. “You have a bully?”

I waved that away. “So not a big deal right now.”

“I wish you weren’t so afraid of yourself,” she said quietly. “Anger’s not a bad thing, El. It has energy; it can give you the power to change things.”

“Or break things.” I looked at her faded scar. “You’re the one who says physical violence isn’t about being angry, it’s about feeling out of control.” After Mom got away from Dad, she read every book in the self-help section of the library. “I don’t want to be like Dad.”

“Oh, honey,” she said, smiling a little. “You’re nothing like that.
He’s
not even like that anymore. You have your
own voice. You need to use it. Too soft isn’t any better than too hard.”

“Even without a voice, the hound-people would have smelled you, even though they wouldn’t have known what precisely it was they were scenting because of your glamours. We couldn’t be sure until the magic faded, and hawks have keen instincts. But Antonia would have wanted you to be safe. It’s likely her doing.” He looked away, his ears red. Come to think of it, the hawk had feathers the same color as Lucas’s hair: like dark tea.