Resistance (27 page)

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Authors: Allana Kephart,Melissa Simmons

Tags: #romance, #Action, #Dark Fantasy, #resistance, #faeries, #Dystopian, #New adult, #allana kephart, #dolan prophecies series, #melissa simmons

BOOK: Resistance
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What I didn’t count on was how long it takes Fi to
fall asleep when she’s stressing.

The clock on the wall tells me it’s just past
midnight. Everyone called lights out about two hours ago, but I can
still hear the pounding of feet in Fi’s room. The couch groans as I
roll onto my back and watch the ceiling. I was waiting out here
because I considered taking a short walk before jamming myself in a
wall made almost entirely out of iron, but here I still lay,
waiting for her to go to bed.

She pauses, and for a minute I have hope she finally
decided to go to sleep. Then I hear the soft sound of padding feet
against carpet and the door squeaks as it opens. I freeze, shifting
onto my feet when I see the shadow of her heading up the second
flight of stairs. She could be sleepwalking is my justification for
worrying about her. After all, she didn’t even notice me lying
here. Wouldn’t want her to fall and hit her head on something…

Who am I kidding? I can’t even fool myself at this
point. I’m actually worried for no justifiable reason at all,
except that I care about her. And that thought terrifies me
straight to my bones, so I will sit in happy denial for now, thank
you very much.

I silently head up the stairs and step into the
library when I see her shadow going back and forth wildly. She’s
pacing again, stopping every few minutes to look out the huge
window overlooking almost the entire city. Her fingers drum against
her bottom lip, and her other hand bunches her oversized shirt into
a fist. I realize she has no idea I’m here, and I cross my arms and
lean against the wall. “Little late for such intense inner
dialogue, don’t you think?”

She jumps and whirls to face me, taking a step
towards the table beside the couch as if she’d planned to chuck the
lamp at my head. I can’t help but chuckle at the mental image and
she makes a sound of shock. “For heaven’s sake, Flint! Make a
noise, would you?” she snaps. “You scared me!”

I try to physically wipe the smile off my face but
can’t seem to hide my amusement. She narrows her eyes and I tell
her, “Sorry…that wasn’t my intent.”

She waves her hand at me, unimpressed with my
apology. She shakes her head and continues pacing back and forth on
the ground. I look down at the floor where her tiny bare feet are
passing over — she’s only been here three minutes and the carpet is
already developing a dip. “No, it’s not your fault,” she says and I
look back up. Her fingers are on her mouth again; pounding against
her lips in a rhythm only she can hear. “My head — it’s just in
chaos.”

“I never would have guessed,” I say lightly. “You
seem so centered tonight. I thought you were meditating.”

She rolls her eyes and continues pacing. “Was there
something you wanted, Flint?” she asks bluntly, already exhausted
by my presence. “Or did you just want to antagonize me a bit before
turning in for the night?”

I shake my head. “I came to see if you were alright,
love. Your pacing was keeping me up, and when it finally stopped I
thought you fell into a black hole or something.”

She stops pacing again and her brows draw in before
she turns to face me. Her eyes narrow again. “How many times do I
have to ask you not to call me that?”

I smirk at her and she scowls, then goes back to
wearing a hole in the floor. “Couple dozen more times and you might
get the message through,” I tell her. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up,
though.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps at me, ignoring my response. “I
just can’t sleep, and I can’t sit still long enough to try.”

“That fact alone leads me to believe you’re far from
‘fine’.”

She stops pacing, spinning on her heel and opening
her mouth to shout at me, when she realizes she doesn’t have a
proper response. Her face falls and her hand moves to her side; her
eyes locking on the carpet beneath her feet. “Did I make a huge
mistake, Flint?” she asks in a broken whisper.

I frown and push off the wall, moving to stand in
front of her. She’s still gazing downward and I duck my head,
trying to make contact with her eyes. “By doing what?”

My voice snaps her out of whatever universe she faded
into and she stumbles back, shaking her head hard, her hair
swinging around her face. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer
that, it was a stupid question,” she rambles. “I’m sorry I woke
you. I forget you’re here sometimes… And Eirnin, he sleeps like the
dead, so I never have to worry about disturbing him—”

“Fi,” I cut her off and she flinches before taking a
huge breath of air into her lungs. “How do you think you made a
mistake?”

She swallows and bounces on the balls of her feet for
a moment. She has to tilt her head back to look up at me, and she’s
trying so hard not to cry. Her deep green eyes are shimmering with
tears she’d never let fall in my presence. I almost feel the urge
to hug her, but I feel she’ll break my jaw if I try. “Lumi,” she
says quietly. “Did I sign a death warrant for everyone by bringing
her here?”

It takes me longer than it should to stop focusing on
her eyes and understand her words. Somehow, I manage to shake my
head. “Of course not,” I reply. It’s quite obvious the girl on the
second floor is of no threat to anyone, and I can’t understand why
she’d be afraid. “Why would you think that?”

“We kidnapped a faery princess,” she says, and moves
her eyes to the floor again, “and brought her to our home. It’s not
something my father would have done.” She reaches up and presses
her fingers against her temples. “I just, I feel so guilty. She
can’t go home, and what if they come here to bring her back? We
can’t wage a war with the Winter Court right now.”

“You won’t like hearing this, but I highly doubt
anyone will come looking for her. The way they look at her…” I tell
her with a frown, and tug her hands away from her face slowly when
she digs her fingers into her eyes. “Well, you probably did the
Winter Court a favor, in their eyes.”

She shakes her head; disbelief and sadness flaring to
life in her eyes as she pulls her hands away from me and turns to
face the window. She wraps her arms around her middle and tugs the
sleeves of her shirt down, patting at her eyes. I pretend not to
see her reflection in the window, or the few tears that escape out
of the corners. I’m not sure why, but it’s the saddest thing I’ve
ever seen in my entire life.

“C’mon,” I hear myself saying. “Let’s go for a
run.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” she says shakily,
trying to compose herself. Again, I pretend I don’t notice the
quaver in her voice. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah. Come on,” I say again. “It’ll help clear your
head. We can talk about everything else in the morning.”

She’s still for a moment and then slowly turns to
face me; assessing my sincerity. She nods after a moment. “That
sounds good.”

I smile at her and she returns it, albeit shakier
than normal, and I pat her arm. “Race you outside.”

“Oh, hell no,” she says, and takes off running out
the door and down the stairs. I can’t contain the laugh that falls
out of my mouth and I follow after her, letting her win. She sticks
her tongue out at me when her feet clap against the dirt before
mine and heads off without me. I bite the insides of my cheeks to
get rid of the stupid grin on my face and let her believe she’s
faster, just barely keeping pace with her. She seems to swell with
pride at this concept, and I don’t want to ruin her moment.

We take her shorter route — just past her uncle’s
house, around the block and back around to the back door — and I’m
just about to exhaust her in the last few feet and pass her when we
see the door being closed.

Shit.

“Eirnin?” Fi calls, and stumbles to a halt. Shock is
written clearly in her eyes and I see the look of panic that
crosses Eir’s. Fi’s face, already flushed from the workout, takes
on the dark red of anger when she realizes he is most definitely
not sleepwalking nor looking for us. “
EIRNIN
!”

Hearing that tone, he does the smartest thing anyone
could do — he turns around and runs in the other direction, towards
the park. Fianna’s face flames further and she takes off, but I
step in front of her and she rams into my chest. Her fury is
immediately transferred to me. “Get out of my way, Flint.”

“Fi, he’s
fine
,” I try, grabbing her arms when
she tries to plow me over. She squirms and tries to stomp on my
foot, but I just end up yanking her against me in an attempt at
self-defense. This only seems to annoy her further and she starts
fighting harder.

“HE IS NOT FINE
!” she yells. “He’s sneaking
out in the middle of the
god damn night
without a guard! In
what way is that
fine
?”

Honestly I don’t have a response for that. I can’t
exactly tell her he’s just going to the old book store without her
finding out I knew about this long ago, and I can’t really let her
go attack him either. “Look, it’s okay, he’s
just
going for
a walk—”

“If he was just going for a walk, why would he run
away when he saw us?” she demands. “Huh? What’s your excuse for
that,
Flint?”

“Because he knew you’d react like
this
!”

She pauses in her struggle to maim me with her feet
and frowns; hearing the truth in my words. She swallows hard and
tries pulling away from me again, but softer this time, and I let
her. She backs away from me and looks in the direction Eirnin took
off. “Am I—”

I don’t know what she was going to ask me, because
her brother’s scream in the distance cuts off her words. Her eyes
bulge and I’m sure my expression matches hers in the split second
we’re still.

“Go!” I instruct at the same time she shouts, “Eir!”
We take off faster than we had been, hearing a loud crack as we
round the corner, and I stop dead in my tracks when I see what
caused it.

Eirnin is sprawled on the ground, wincing; his hand
cupping the back of his neck. He tries to sit up, but appears to be
held down by invisible bonds that keep him within a claustrophobic
space. There’s a man standing there with black hair I always found
too long and even darker eyes, holding his arm out with his palm
facing Eir.

“Get away from him, you son of a bitch!” Fi
yells.

Without dropping his hand, he looks over his shoulder
at us and looks Fi up and down. He scoffs and smiles at her,
humored by the authority in her voice, before glancing in my
direction. His eyes widen a little and he turns toward us; keeping
Eir in place with the powers he’s harnessed. “Keegan?” he smirks.
“Well I’ll be damned.”

Fi hesitates and looks at me, wondering about the
different name. I avoid her stare and nod. “Q.”

Quincy is one of the many acquaintances I had that
never found out my first name. I knew him for years before we ended
up on opposite sides of the fence — me siding with humans and him
doing the exact reverse. He’s part of the Winter Court, a nobody,
as standards say, and he always fawned over the oldest Winter
princess, Milcah. He has an affinity for air, and judging by the
way he’s keeping Eirnin in place and talking to me at the same
time, he’s mastered it. When we last met, he could hardly move
leaves.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask. I’m trying
to ignore the questioning glare Fi is giving me and focus solely on
the person I once knew in front of me. This will be impossible to
explain away later and she knows it.

“Heard some rumors at home,” he says. “Thought I’d
come check it out. Didn’t expect to find you here.” He looks at Fi
again, smirking when he takes her in, and I kind of want to punch
the hungry look off his face. “Cute. Is this your new squeeze,
then? ’Bout time you got some action.”

Fi’s eyes bug and she scowls. It’s then I notice she
has her knife out and ready. “Get the hell away from my brother,”
she snarls, ignoring the question. When Quincy laughs at her, she
looks like she might explode.

“Fi, don’t—” I reach out to grab her arm and stop her
from lunging at Q, but she’s out of range and I grab at air
instead.

Quincy is still laughing as he flicks his hand. The
wind rushes towards us and Fi’s knife flies, jamming into the tree
Eir is leaning on, mere inches above his head. Fi gasps at the
proximity and Quincy flicks his hand again, sending her flying in
the other direction, up against another tree.

“Enough!” I yell at him, scowling. He looks at me in
confusion and then rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me you
fancy the girl.” When I don’t respond he busts out laughing. “You
and your human fetish… Some things never change.”

“If you touch one hair on my brother’s head, I
promise I will end you!” Fi screams; trying her damnedest to fight
around Q’s prowess with air. She screams in frustration and flails
pointlessly, glaring daggers at the man.

“Is that so, cutie pie?” Quincy coos. He makes
kissing noises at her like she’s a dog and she literally growls.
“Someone’s a bit full of themselves tonight.”

“Just leave, Quincy,” I interrupt him firmly; almost
begging. Eirnin is still trying to stand up; his eyes filled with
panic and locked on Fi, who is going to get herself in more trouble
than she understands if she keeps threatening him.

“No can do, pal,” he says, and I almost see a hint of
sympathy in his eyes, a shadow of someone who used to be my friend.
“I would, but there’s quite an offering on this group.”

“Leave them alone, you coward!” Fi shouts again
before I can respond. “What — are you afraid of a woman?”

Quincy’s whole body shifts to look at Fi, and his
eyes harden into someone I’ve never seen before. “You talk far too
much, little girl.” He flips his hand over and makes a slicing
motion. Fi separates from the tree, but her mouth is hanging open.
She clamps her teeth together and claws at her throat, stumbling
forward and landing on all fours.

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