Destined (4 page)

L
ike water seeping through a dam, first as a trickle, then a torrent, Laurel found herself stumbling over her words as she explained everything to her parents, including the events of the past week that she’d been avoiding telling them. The words came more slowly as she wound down, explaining how Klea had attacked and that Shar was still in danger, and then at last she was done, feeling purged and empty – except for the smouldering memory of the one thing she could never let her parents find out.

“I . . . I didn’t know how to tell you earlier,” she finished.

“A Winter faerie?” her dad asked.

Laurel nodded.

“The kind who can pretty much do anything?”

She rubbed her eyes. “You have no idea.”

Laurel’s mom glanced up at Tamani, who had remained silent through Laurel’s explanation. “Is my daughter in danger?”

“I don’t know,” Tamani admitted. “Despite being a Winter faerie, I don’t think Yuki is a threat to Laurel personally. Klea, however, is another story. She does things that aren’t even remotely legal in Avalon, and we still don’t know what her end goal is.”

“It’s a shame we couldn’t have just hit Klea on the head and dragged her away when she was here at our house last month,” Laurel’s dad said, only half joking.

“Do we need to take you somewhere, Laurel?” her mom asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Would you be safer if we took you and went away? We can be gone in an hour.” She was on her feet, staring down at Laurel with an expression of such fierce protectiveness that Laurel wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

“I can’t leave,” Laurel said softly. “This is my responsibility. If Klea was going to hurt me, she’s had plenty of opportunities. I don’t think that’s what she wants from me.”

“What
does
she want from you?”

Laurel shrugged. “The land, probably. The gate to Avalon. Like Tamani said, we just don’t know.”

“And we won’t know much of anything else until Shar comes back,” Tamani added.

Laurel noticed his tightly clenched fists and laid a hand on his arm. “He’ll come back,” she said softly, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

“You know,” Tamani said quietly, not looking at her, “maybe your mother’s right. We’ve done everything we can here. Jamison asked us to find the root of the troll problem. Klea brought trolls to rescue Yuki. I think that’s proof enough that the root is her, so, mission accomplished. The rest is really up to Aaron and Shar, but if they aren’t . . . successful . . .” Tamani paused, and Laurel could almost see him imagining the worst. “Maybe you
should
leave.”

Laurel was already shaking her head. “With all the sentries in the woods, there’s
nowhere
safer than right here.” She turned to her mother. “I know you want to protect me. But I have a job to do and there are thousands of faeries in Avalon who are depending on me to keep their world safe. If Shar and Aaron can’t stop Klea – if there’s anything I can do, I have to be here to do it. I can’t run away from that. I just . . .”

Laurel’s mom was smiling at her, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Laurel shrugged helplessly. “I just want to help.”

“We’re not going to talk you out of this, are we?” her dad asked.

She shook her head, afraid her voice would quaver and inspire her dad to try just that.

“Maybe you two should go without Laurel,” Tamani suggested. “I don’t think Klea has any interest in you, but at least then Laurel would know you were safe.”

Laurel’s mom looked over at her. “If Laurel is staying, so are we.”

Tamani nodded.

Her dad stood and sighed. “I’m gonna go shower. Clear my head. Then we can make a plan.”

“I have to call David,” Laurel said, reaching for the phone as her dad tromped up the stairs.

“Why does David always have to be involved?” Tamani muttered, already starting to pace.

“Because he thinks he has a shift coming up,” Laurel said pointedly, dialling David’s number as Tamani pulled out his cell.

“He has an iPhone?” her mom whispered as the second ring sounded in Laurel’s ear.

Laurel nodded. “I was saving that little tidbit for ammunition the next time we discussed
me
getting a phone.”

Her mom was silent for several seconds as Laurel listened to David’s voice-mail message. “Do they get . . . service? In Avalon?” she asked.

Laurel shrugged and left a brief message for David to call her when he woke up. She considered calling his home phone, but didn’t want to wake his mom. After all, it was barely seven in the morning. She would have to wait.

Just like everyone else.

Tamani’s hand lingered in his pocket and he walked back and forth across the kitchen floor until Laurel thought she might scream.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Tamani?” her mom finally said, with a tiny edge to her voice. Pacing was not a popular habit in the Sewell household. “Or perhaps you want to . . . clean up a bit?”

“Clean . . . ?” Tamani said, looking a little dazed. He peered down at his tattered shirt and the scratches on his arms that were no longer oozing but remained shiny with sap. “That’s probably a good idea,” he said haltingly.

“Maybe something to eat, too?” Laurel suggested. “Considering this turn of events, I suspect even green stuff is back on the menu,” she added, forcing a laugh. Tamani had been avoiding his favourite foods to keep from colouring his eyes and hair roots, but Laurel assumed it wouldn’t matter anymore. She supposed, in retrospect, that it had never really mattered – Yuki had always known what he was.

Tamani nodded jerkily. “Yeah. Thanks. Broccoli, if you have it.”

“I’ll go up and find you a T-shirt,” Laurel’s mom said, turning to follow in her husband’s footsteps.

“Thank you,” Tamani whispered, though his eyes were on his phone again. Laurel could feel him willing it to ring.

Numbly Laurel grabbed a knife to chop up the stalk of broccoli she’d fished from the refrigerator.

Tamani turned his head slightly, listening to Laurel’s mom’s footsteps as she climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom. Then he seemed to melt on to the barstool, running his hands through his hair with a soft groan.

Laurel loaded several florets onto a plate and handed it to him, but he took the plate with one hand and her hand with the other, his gaze so intense it took her breath away. He slowly transferred the glass plate to the counter and pulled her close.

Laurel curled herself against his chest, grasping at what was left of his shirt. His hands were in her hair, then around her waist, his fingers pressing almost painfully against her back.

“I honestly thought that might be the end,” he whispered in her ear, his voice gravelly. When his lips fell on her neck, her cheeks, and dotted her eyelids, she didn’t pull away. Even when his mouth found hers, frantic and delving, she returned the kiss with the same fire and passion. It wasn’t until that moment – feeling the desperation fuelling his kiss – that she realised just how narrowly they’d cheated death. Not since he’d been shot by Barnes had Laurel seen Tamani lose a fight like that, and she clung to him, trembling with relief from a fear she hadn’t even known she was feeling.

Laurel’s fingers brushed the cut on Tamani’s cheek, pulling back at his soft gasp of pain against her lips. But he didn’t jerk away. If anything, he drew her closer. She wished there was more time; time to lose herself in his kisses, to forget that Shar was out there, somewhere, fighting for all their lives.

He finally lifted his mouth, his forehead pressed against hers. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I . . . I just needed you for a moment.”

Laurel twined her fingers through his. “I think I needed you, too.”

Tamani met her eyes and stroked her face with his thumb. The desperation was gone now, and he was all softness and calm. His mouth brushed hers tentatively, as his hands had so often done. Laurel leaned forward, wanting more. Wanting to
show
him that she wanted more. She stopped listening for her mother’s footsteps, for a sign of Chelsea coming out of her room, for anything but the soft purr of Tamani’s breath on her cheek.

Only when the jangle of the phone sounded close to her ear did the world snap back into focus. It rang again as she tried to catch her breath. “That’ll be David,” she whispered.

Tamani stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, then let his hand drop and turned to his plate of broccoli as Laurel picked up the handset.

“Laurel!” David said, his voice bleary. “You’re home. Did you oversleep? Do I need to get over there and cover for you?” She could hear him fumbling around, probably pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, ready to rush in and save the day.

“No. No, it’s worse than that,” Laurel said quietly. All rustling on David’s end came to a halt as she explained what had happened.

“I’m coming over.”

“I think there are enough stressed people in this house,” Laurel argued.

“Well, I can’t just sit around here and wait. I . . . I’ll feel better if I’m over there, just in case. Is that OK?”

Laurel suppressed a sigh. She knew exactly how he felt and, if their positions were reversed, she would want the same thing. “OK,” she said. “But just let yourself in. Don’t knock or ring or whatever. Chelsea’s still sleeping and she really needs it.”

“I won’t. And Laurel? Thanks.”

Laurel hung up and turned to face Tamani. “He’s coming over.”

Tamani nodded, swallowing a mouthful of veggies. “I figured as much.”

“Who’s coming over?” Laurel’s mom asked from halfway down the stairs.

“David.”

Laurel’s mom sighed in half amusement as she tossed a clean grey T-shirt to Tamani. “I have to say, I don’t know what that boy tells his mother.”

T
amani gritted his teeth as he gingerly pulled the new – and rather too big – shirt over the binding strips Laurel had spent the last ten minutes applying. David had arrived and Laurel was sitting with him on the couch, filling him in on the morning attack. Tamani blocked out her voice; he was already replaying the events in his mind, looking for some way he could have been more prepared, more effective.

Especially against Klea.

He hadn’t lost a round of hand-to-hand combat to anyone but Shar in years. To lose to a human-trained Mixer hurt almost as badly as the wounds she had left on him – and those stung plenty.

Laurel’s parents had offered to stay home from work, but Tamani insisted it was better for everyone if they went to their stores and pretended it was a regular day. Before Laurel could even suggest it, Tamani had ordered half a dozen sentries to tail each parent, just in case. The grateful look in her eyes had been a welcome bonus.

“So what now?”

Tamani looked over and realised David was talking to him.

“We’re waiting to hear from Shar,” Tamani grumbled. “Silve took a whole company of sentries back to the apartment to help with the trolls. They should sound the all-clear any time.”

“And . . .” David hesitated. “If they don’t?”

That was what Tamani had been fretting about for an hour. “I don’t know.” What he wanted to say was that he’d take Laurel somewhere no one could find her – not even David – and stay there until he knew she was safe. Last resort for any
Fear-gleidhidh
. But Laurel had already decided she wasn’t going to run and Tamani probably shouldn’t warn her that they might be running whether she liked it or not.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said David.

“Yeah, well, neither do I,” Tamani said, frustration heavy in his voice. “We’re not exactly safe here, either, it’s just safer than anywhere else at the moment.”
But for how long?
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at David. “Would
you
like to leave?”

David just gave him a dark look.

Tamani’s phone began vibrating in his hand. He looked down at the screen to see a blue box heralding the arrival of a text message.

From . . . Shar?

klea took yuki and ran. i followed.

Then the phone buzzed again – a picture this time. He’d been expecting to hear from Shar – perhaps
hoping
was a better word – but even though he’d been clinging to his phone since they’d arrived at Laurel’s house, the person he’d assumed would call was Aaron. Maybe Silve. Shar had never managed to use the phone before; generally he refused to even try. Tamani slid a finger across the screen once, twice, three times before it recognised his touch and unlocked. He squinted at the minuscule picture for a second before tapping it to make it bigger.

Not that it helped.

He was looking at a log cabin with a white, tentlike structure sprawling out the back. There were two slightly grainy figures near the front door.

“What is it?” Laurel asked.

He beckoned her forwards. “It’s from Shar.”

“Shar?” The disbelief in Laurel’s voice was as heavy as it was in Tamani’s mind. “He
texted
you?”

Tamani nodded, studying the picture. “He said Klea got away with Yuki. He followed them here.” He slid his fingers over the screen, zooming in on the two figures, wanting to be sure before voicing his suspicions. “Those two guards,” he said slowly, “I don’t think they’re human.”

“Trolls?” David asked, still sitting on the couch.

“Fae,” Tamani said, not looking up from the screen. “They don’t seem to be trying to hide it either. This must be . . . I don’t know. Klea’s headquarters?”

“Should you call him?” Laurel suggested, but Tamani was already shaking his head.

“No way. If that’s where he is, I can’t risk giving him away.”

“Can’t your phone, like, find his with GPS or something?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know that it matters. There’s no text with this picture and for now I have to assume that means I should do nothing.” He shoved his hands back into his pockets – one still clenched around his phone – and began pacing again.

The phone buzzed almost immediately. Another picture.

“What are they?” Laurel asked, squeezing in beside him to squint at the tall, green stalks.

Tamani’s stomach twisted with a sick churning. It had taken the Gardener’s son in him less than a second to recognise the distinct plant specimen. “They’re sprouts,” he said hoarsely.

“Sprou – Oh!” Laurel said, sucking in a breath.

“The plants faeries are born out of?” David asked, rising from the couch to look over Tamani’s shoulder.

Tamani nodded numbly.

“But there are dozens of them!” Laurel said. Then, after a pause, “Why are so many of them chopped down?”

But Tamani could only shake his head as he glared at the picture, trying to understand Shar’s message. Everything about this was wrong. He was no Gardener, but the condition of the growing sprouts was appalling even to the untrained eye. The plants were too close together, and most of the stalks were too short in comparison to the size of the bulb. They were malnourished at best and probably permanently damaged.

But it was the cut-off stalks that bothered him the most. The only reason to cut a stalk was to harvest it early. Tamani’s mom had done so once in her career, to save a dying baby fae, but Tamani couldn’t imagine Klea’s motives were so maternal. And he had no idea why she would do it to so many. She had to be
using
them. And not for companionship.

His gruesome speculation was cut off by another picture, this one of a metal rack filled with green vials. There was no spark of recognition this time and Tamani tilted the screen toward Laurel. “Do you recognise this serum?”

Laurel shook her head. “About half of all serums are green. It could be anything.”

“Maybe it—” His question was cut off by the phone buzzing again. Not a text this time; a call. Tamani sucked in a breath and held the phone up to his ear. “Shar?” he said, wondering if he sounded as desperate as he felt.

Laurel looked up at him, worry, concern, and hope twining together in her gaze.

“Shar?” he said, more quietly now.

“Tam, I need your help,” Shar whispered. “I need you to . . .” His voice trailed off, and shuffling noises were loud against Tamani’s ear as it sounded like Shar set the phone down.

“Don’t move, or this whole shelf goes over.” Shar’s voice came through clearly, but with a slight echo.
Speakerphone,
Tamani realised. He felt a laugh bubble up in his throat and had to bite his lip firmly to tamp it down. Shar had figured out his phone enough to use it when it counted.

Klea’s voice – more hollow, but crisp enough to understand – came through next. “Honestly, Captain, is this really necessary? You’ve already blown my schedule all to hell by knocking out poor Yuki.”

Knocked out a Winter?
Tamani thought, both proud and incredulous.
Wonder how he pulled that off.

“I saw you burn,” Shar said, his voice simmering. “The blaze was so hot, no one could get near it for three days.”

“Who doesn’t love a good fire?” she said, her tone mocking.

“I made them test the ashes. Academy confirmed an Autumn faerie died in that fire.”

“How diligent of you! But that’s why I left my blossom behind. I don’t think it would have fooled them if it hadn’t been fresh.”

Laurel laid a hand on Tamani’s arm. “Is it—”

Tamani shushed her gently and pulled the phone away from his face, hitting his own speakerphone button, then muting the microphone just in case.

“Where did you find Yuki?” Shar’s voice said clearly.

“Find? Oh, Captain, all it takes is a single seed, if you know what you’re doing. Work was slow when I had to rely on cuttings, but in the past few decades humans have made remarkable strides in cloning. I quickly discovered that every sprout has its own destiny, no matter its lineage. So it was only a matter of time before I got a Winter.”

“Where did you get the seed, then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you,” Klea said, “but it’s just too good to keep to myself. I stole it from the Unseelie.”

“
You’re
Unseelie, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Don’t lump me in with those wild-eyed zealots,” she snapped. “I never did find out where the Unseelie got the seed, not that it matters. One of them even saw me take it as I made my escape. Oh, she was so angry,” Klea said in a low whisper. “But then, I think you’re familiar with her, Shar de Misha.”

Tamani closed his eyes, knowing how his friend must be feeling to discover the secret his mother had kept from him – the secret that might have saved so many lives. There was a long pause before Shar responded. “You have a pretty big stack of these vials here. The least you can do is tell me what I’m about to die for. You owe me that.”

“The only thing you’re owed is a bullet in the head.”

“So I should dump these, then,” Shar said. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”

As Shar baited Klea, his voice seemed to blare, filling the room with his careful prompts. Tamani could feel Laurel trying to catch his eye but now was not the time for one of their silent conversations. He forced himself to focus on the phone resting on the palm of his hand and did his best to breathe evenly.

Klea hesitated. “Fine. Don’t think it will spare you. They took me a long time to make and I’d prefer not to waste them, but this is only the final batch. Most of it has already been used.”

“Is this how you make the trolls immune to our poisons?”

“In Avalon, you treat the ill. Here, humans have learned to prevent illnesses before they happen. This is basically the same thing. An inoculation of sorts. So yes, it makes them immune.”

“Immune to faerie magic, you mean.
Autumn
magic.”

Tamani hadn’t heard the word
inoculation
before, but its meaning was sickeningly clear. Klea was making an entire horde of trolls immune to Autumn magic. All their troubles over the last few years – the dart that hadn’t worked on Barnes two years ago; Laurel’s serum that had knocked out four trolls in the lighthouse, but not Barnes; the caesafum globe that had no effect on the trolls after the Autumn Hop only a few short months ago; the tracking serums that stopped working. It was all Klea’s doing.

“That upper troll,” Shar said, catching on as quickly as Tamani had.

“Oh, yes. You remember Barnes. He was my guinea pig, way back when. That didn’t pan out so well and he decided to turn on me. But I find it terribly soothing to have a contingency plan or two in place. Don’t you?”

A forced laugh from Shar. “I could do with one of those about now myself.”

“Well said!” Klea chirruped in a tone that made Tamani want to smash the phone. “But we both know you haven’t got one. You’re either stalling because you’re afraid to die – which is dreadfully unbecoming – or you think you’re going to miraculously get this information back to Avalon before I invade, which isn’t going to happen. So if you’d be so kind as to step out here where I can kill you—”

“What do you think you’re going to do?” Shar interrupted, and Tamani forced himself to focus on Shar’s words instead of the terrifying images running through his head of what was about to happen to his best friend. “Torture Laurel until she tells you where the gate is? She won’t. She’s stronger than you think.”

“What the hell do I need Laurel for? I know where the gate is. Yuki plucked that tidbit out of Laurel’s head almost a week ago.”

Startled, Laurel looked up, her eyes pools of shock, but comprehension dawned on her face as Tamani made his own connections.
Those headaches
. The terrible one after the troll attack – when her mind would have been vulnerable and possibly turned to Avalon. Yuki’s phone call from Klea, the glittering look in her eyes – that must have been Klea’s plan the whole time, her motivation for sending trolls after them that night. And in addition to the smaller ones, Laurel had mentioned another massive headache in front of her locker, the last day of school – had even voiced concerns that Yuki might be the cause. But Tamani had dismissed it because they were about to capture her anyway. No wonder Klea had been so furious when Yuki insisted on staying for the dance – she’d completed her mission. She really had stayed out of misguided affection for Tamani.

Tamani closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe deeply, evenly. Now was not the time to lose control.

“Then I just have one last request.” Tamani’s eyes flew open. There was something in Shar’s voice he didn’t like. An edge.

“Tell Ari and Len I love them,” Shar said, coming through with increased clarity despite the quaver in his voice. “More than anything.”

Icy fear filled Tamani’s chest. “No.” The barely audible plea slipped through Tamani’s lips.

“That’s very sweet, but I’m not running a messaging service, Shar.”

“I know, it’s just . . . ironic.”

“Ironic? I don’t see how.”

An incredible clattering sounded in the background, like a hundred crystal goblets shattering against the floor, and Laurel clapped a hand over her mouth.