A Faerie's Secret (Creepy Hollow Book 4) by Rachel Morgan
“What about the Guild girl?” the woman asks. “You said she might be able to help you.”
Guild girl? That’s me!
“Yes, but working with someone from the Guild probably wouldn’t end well for you and me.”
“Just you,” she says. “I’m not on your team, remember?”
“You’re connected to me. If the Guild girl chooses to turn me in, it won’t be long before they come looking for you.”
“Then use her without giving her enough information to be able to do that,” the woman continues. “Leave out details, or give her false ones. If she doesn’t know enough, she can’t do anything.”
Okay, I can’t sit by and listen while they talk about me like this. Here I was having ridiculous heart palpitations about the hot vigilante tattoo artist, and all he wants is to use my Griffin Ability. I swing my chair around and push myself up and out of it.
“That won’t work,” Chase says. “She knows too much already.”
“I see,” the woman says as I start walking toward them. She laughs, and the sound is enchanting. “How very interesting. You’ve managed to keep your secrets for years, and now one girl comes along and—”
“It isn’t like that.”
“Oh really?”
My feet come to a halt because I suddenly feel like this might be a conversation I want to hear more of. But I’m too close to them already and my sudden stop has caught their attention. Chase’s eyes widen in surprise. “Calla?”
I close the distance between us with confident strides, crossing my arms over my chest. “What a surprise to see you here,” I say.
“Indeed,” he says. “You look …”
“I look?”
“Older.”
“How lovely. Because every girl wants to hear that she looks old.”
He gives me a small smile. “I think you know that’s not what I meant.”
I turn my gaze to the woman, Chase’s flawless companion, who appears to be examining me with shock. She looks at Chase, then back at me. “Woman in gold,” she whispers.
“Excuse me?” I ask, although I’m pleased to hear her referring to me as a woman and not a girl. It makes me feel as though we’re on more of an even footing.
“Uh, nothing,” she says, then smiles, appearing to regain her composure. “I was just thinking of something Chase told me years ago. You’re the Guild girl, I assume?”
“Yes. And you are?” I’m aware I’m being rude, but I can’t help it. There’s nothing about this woman that makes me want to be polite to her.
“I’m Chase’s hair stylist,” she says, leaning over to run her gloved fingers through his hair.
Hair stylist. Right. And I’m a purple fire-spitting bunny.
Chase reaches up and calmly removes the woman’s hands. “Elizabeth,” he says. “Don’t you have somewhere to be now?”
She sighs. “Why do you always insist on calling me nasty names?”
“It’s your name,” he says. “It isn’t nasty. Now you need to find Saber and get him to talk.”
“Fine. If I must.” She smoothes her hands down over her thighs. “You two enjoy each other’s company,” she adds with a knowing smile. She sashays away while I try to figure out if I’m brave enough to ask Chase why I’m the only girl to discover any of his secrets.
“So, I’m here because of Saber,” Chase says before I can find my courage. “Why are you here?”
“Uh … didn’t I tell you?” My mind races to come up with a clever quip. “I live here. In Estellyn Tower.”
Chase’s expression doesn’t change. Probably because that was the furthest thing from clever and he can’t be bothered to reply until I give him a real answer.
With a sigh, I say, “My friend followed a clue and found an invitation. I figured hanging out with celebrity fae was a good way to end a bad day.”
“A bad day?”
“Just my mentor reminding me that nothing I do is good enough. Hey, did you also have to solve a clue and go hunting for an invitation?” Somehow, I can’t imagine Chase doing that.
“No. I have ways of getting myself invited to events without having to hunt for anything.”
“Of course. You hunt criminals, not party invitations.”
An amused smile touches his lips, but he says nothing.
“I know, I know. You won’t admit to anything. If you did, I’d be able to use it when I turn you in, right?”
“Calla—”
“You know I’m not going to do that.”
“And you know I’m not going to just use you for your ability, so what are you upset about?”
“I’m—” What am I upset about? Elizabeth, probably. Trying to convince him to use me, putting her hands all over him, remarking about a comment from years ago to make me fully aware they have some kind of history together.
“You should go home, Calla. If Saber sees you here, things could get messy.”
“And if he sees you?”
“He won’t. My charming companion is going to keep him busy.”
“Then he won’t be paying any attention to me, will he?”
“Calla, you—”
“Please.” I hold my hand up. “Don’t do that overprotective thing. I get enough of it from my parents and my brother. I’ve been kidnapped and locked up, I’ve been ridiculed and teased, I’ve faced dozens of opponents during unofficial assignments, and I’ve survived it all. I think I can take care of myself.”
Chase frowns. “You were kidnapped?”
“Yes. It isn’t something I—”
“Callaaa! There you are!” Gemma runs over, flings her arms around me, and squeezes me tight. Perry follows close behind, looking concerned.
“Hey, we’ve been looking for you for a while,” he says, “I think—”
“Oh my gosh,” Gemma says, hanging onto my arm and staring wide-eyed at Chase. “You’re the hot tattoo guy. And you’re standing right here. Know what? I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo on—” she giggles, then whispers “—my butt. Do you do butt tattoos? Please say yes. You’re the best tattoo artist in the whole world.”
“Um …” I cast a questioning look over Gemma’s head at Perry.
“I think she ate something weird,” he says. “She’s been like this for the past ten minutes.”
“Some of the chocolate bonbons have alcohol inside them,” Chase says, not looking the slightest bit disturbed by Gemma’s outburst. “Human alcohol, not faerie alcohol. It acts quickly on our systems.”
“That’s probably it,” Perry says. “She ate a whole load of different bonbons.”
“They were AH-mazing,” Gemma says loudly.
“I’m sure they were.” I pat her arm. “Perry, maybe you should—” I duck as a group of sprites flying in formation swoop over our heads before continuing around the room where they receive applause from most of the fae they fly over.
“This Lucien de la Mer guy provides the strangest entertainment,” Chase comments.
“Um, I don’t feel so good,” Gemma says.
“Chase?” Elizabeth hurries toward us. She frowns at Gemma, currently bending over and breathing deeply while Perry rubs her arm. Elizabeth steps closer to Chase and lowers her voice to say, “Something’s gone wrong. I didn’t get to Saber in time. I saw him grab Lucien’s wife and pull her into another room through the door behind the ice pond. No one else seemed to notice.”
“Damn. What does he want with her?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not sticking around to find out.” She touches Chase’s arm, then backs away. “I’m leaving. I can’t afford to get caught here if things go south and security locks this place down.”
Chase gives her a quick nod and says, “I understand.”
“Coward,” I mutter under my breath.
“Calla, we should really get Gemma home,” Perry says.
“Yes. Can you take her? I need to help Chase with something here.”
Perry frowns. “Uh, okay. I’ll message G
“You should go too,” Chase says, looking around for the ice pond. He spots the skaters and starts heading for them.
I hurry after him. “I can help you.”
“I know, but I don’t think your help is necessary tonight. I just need to get in there, stun Saber, and get him out of here before he hurts anyone or accomplishes whatever it is he’s here for.”
“And you don’t think you could possibly use an illusion master to make your little rescue mission go more smoothly?”
Chase hesitates a moment, appearing to weigh up the options as he stares at the door on the other side of the frozen pond. “Okay. But you need to do whatever I say.”
“I think I can probably manage that.”
We move through the crowd of laughing, drinking, dancing guests as quickly as we can without looking conspicuous. When we reach the other side of the ice pond, near the door Saber took Lucien’s wife through, I get to work. I picture the door with no one standing in front of it and project the image as far as I can. At least, I think that’s what I’m doing. I’ve never really thought about distance or how many people my projections could influence at one time. I don’t know if everyone in this room will automatically see what I want them to see, or if I have to imagine forcing the image further and further out. It seems strange that I don’t know the limits of my own ability. Why have I never tested this before?
“Are you doing it?” Chase asks. I nod, and he moves in front of the door. He’s gathered enough power to stun someone—which took him all of about four seconds—in case Saber attacks him the moment he opens the door. He tries the handle, but it’s locked. “Just give me a minute to get this open.” He kneels down and does some kind of spell on the keyhole with his stylus.
“Sure. I’ll just be over here, imagining a blank door.”
“Great. This shouldn’t take too—Ah, there we go. Just a simple locking spell, as I suspected.” He returns his stylus to an inside jacket pocket, stands, and takes hold of the handle. “Get ready to be creative if necessary.”
I nod. He opens the door and steps quickly inside, both hands raised and ready to release magic. When nothing exciting happens, I peer past him and see an empty corridor with the same polished floor as the vast living area the party is happening in. I follow him and close the door behind me, finally letting go of the blank door image. We advance along the corridor. No doors lead off it, but not too far ahead, I can see it turns to the left.
A dull thud. The sound of running feet. My heart quickens, and I raise my hands to place a shield of protective magic in front of me. A second later, Saber comes sprinting around the corner. Chase sends his stunner spell shooting through the air. Saber ducks, skids to the side across the polished floor, and throws his hands out toward us. Sparks fly from his fingertips, morphing into a flurry of leaves that attack my shield and swirl around Chase’s head before I extend the shield in front of him.
“Drop the shield,” he tells me, so I do. He sweeps his hand out, and the leaves fall away. With the air clear now, I see Saber down on one knee, tossing a metallic ball across the floor toward us.
“What is—”
I don’t have time to finish my question before Chase throws himself against me and pins me to the wall. An explosion deafens me, shuddering the ground and walls and filling the corridor with billows of thick grey smoke. Above the ringing in my ears I hear Saber shouting, “I’ve already got what I came for.”
Chase pushes away from me and disappears into the smoke. My eyes sting and I can’t stop coughing, so I form a bubble of protection around me while the smoke dissipates. After about a minute, it’s gone. Chase comes running back into the corridor, shaking his head and looking grim. “I couldn’t find him. He’s gone.”
“Lucien’s wife?” I say. I turn and run in the other direction down the corridor. We find her in a sitting room around the corner, lying on the floor. She sits up as we reach her, rubbing her head and looking confused. “Are you okay?” I ask, helping her up onto a chair. Her arms are barely more than skin and bone, and her short hair is so thin, I can see her scalp though it. I remember bits of what I’ve read in the news about this woman’s strange illness that her body’s magic can’t heal and no one can cure.
Still looking rather dazed, she says, “I think so.”
“The man who brought you in here,” Chase prompts. “What did he want?”
Her eyes are wide with bewilderment. “What man? What happened? I don’t remember coming in here.”
I notice a small glass vial on the floor. “He made her forget,” I say quietly to Chase. “She doesn’t know anything.”
Running footsteps sound in the corridor. “Security,” Chase says. “Can you make them think we’re not here?”
I nod, already picturing the room without us in it. Just the polished floor, the square furniture, the overly fluffy rug, and the recovering woman. When several guards run into the room, they hurry straight past us. We walk slowly, quietly back to the corridor, then pick up our pace. Two more guards are stationed at the doorway, holding back the questioning crowd. I have to hold an image of the empty corridor in my mind as we walk toward everyone. It’s scary, knowing I might lose focus at any moment and allow the two of us to become visible. Halfway down the corridor, I grab onto Chase’s arm and close my eyes so I can focus on the illusion I’m projecting. “Don’t let me walk into anyone,” I whisper.
We make it out safely, quickly moving through the crowd after I accidentally brush against one of the guards. “I have to admit,” Chase says once we’re a safe distance from the corridor and the barrier is back up around my mind, “your ability was rather useful in getting us in and out of there.”
I shrug. “You’re welcome.”
“I just wish I knew what Saber came here for.” Chase clenches his fist and presses it against the pillar we’re standing beside. “He’s several steps ahead of me, and I don’t like it. The fact that I know who he’s working for makes it even worse.”
Undoubtedly the most dangerous man we know. That’s what Chase said earlier.
“Who? What makes this person so dangerous? It’s not …” I feel so stupid saying the name Draven. It can’t be him.
Chase shakes his head. “I don’t want to involve you.”
“Right, like I’m not involved already.” When he shows no sign of answering me, I say, “Does the Guild know anything about this … situation? Guardians are the ones who should be dealing with this.”
“The Guild is aware of some of this.”
I raise my eyebrows. “And? You’re going to make them aware of the rest of it?”
“And … I think this is the end of our conversation.”
I groan loudly and grab a skewer of strawberries from a passing tray. “You’re infuriating. This is why we aren’t going to be working together.”
“Yes. This is one of the reasons.”
“But, you know, we can still be friends. I’ll help you pick out designs for your tattoo clients, and you can teach me the best way to stab an enemy without killing him.”
Chase allows himself a smile. “Sounds like the basis for a lifelong friendship.”
I nod and finish chewing my strawberries. I drop the skewer onto another passing tray and say, “Well, good night. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“For a stabbing lesson.”
“Right.”
I turn to leave, but he grabs my arm. “Calla?” His gaze drops to the ground in a moment of hesitation. “When I said ‘older—’” his eyes, beautiful and intense, rise to meet mine “—I didn’t mean ‘old.’”
I press my lips together as I try to hold my smile in. “I know.”
CHAPTER
<
I wake the next morning and allow myself a few minutes to lie there smiling before getting up. I might have a mother in hospital and a mentor who hates me, but I’m finally doing what I’ve always wanted to do, I have actual, real friends who are doing the same thing, and I get to occasionally hang out with a cool Underground tattoo artist who thinks I look good in evening wear.
I get to the Guild dining hall in time for breakfast, but the only other person sitting at our usual table is Ned. Gemma is apparently ‘not feeling well,’ and then Ned receives a message from Perry saying he overslept and only just woke up.
“Must have been quite a party, huh?” Ned mumbles.
“It was. I think it’s safe to say Gemma won’t be eating any chocolate bonbons for a while.”
Ned nods. He then shovels food into his mouth with alarming speed before excusing himself to go finish some homework. I’m pretty sure we had no homework yesterday, which means Ned is simply making an escape. I suppose he’s still too shy around me to consider sticking around for a conversation without the safety net of his other two friends.
Since classes aren’t due to begin for another twenty-five minutes, and—fortunately—I have no meeting with Olive this morning, I decide to go to the healing wing and visit Mom. The woman behind the desk in the waiting area makes a comment about me not observing visiting hours, but, with a conspiratorial smile, she lets me through anyway.
I sit on the stool that appears beside Mom’s bed and watch her for a while. I try to find the anger I felt when I learned her secret, but it’s mostly gone. I’m relieved. Hanging onto that anger would have been exhausting. When I look at her now, I just feel … sad. I feel as though I don’t know nearly enough about her, and, to be honest, she doesn’t know me that well either. “We haven’t had the healthiest mother-daughter relationship, have we?” I say as I place my hand over Mom’s. “We smile at each other and skim the surface of our lives with pleasantries, but neither of us ever trusted the other enough to go deeper than that. There are things, so many things I could have shared with you. The nasty comments that left me in tears, my fear that I’d waste my life as an artist and never help anyone, the thrill I felt the first time I did a back flip, my crush on Zed, the truth about what really happened to … that boy who committed suicide.” I squeeze Mom’s hand, wondering if she’ll remember any of this when she wakes up. “Neither of us had to be so alone, Mom, but we chose to keep our secrets to ourselves. I guess we’ll see if we can change that when you wake up.”