Spells (15 page)

“Because they’re trying to kill
us
.”

“She never said that. She only said it was because they are trolls.”

“Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

“No. You can’t hunt things just because of what they are, or what others like them have done to you. I can’t assume there are no good trolls out there any more than I can assume there are no bad faeries. The fact that she’s hunting the right thing doesn’t mean it’s for the right reason.”

“Laurel,” David said calmly, one hand on her shoulder, “you’re arguing semantics here. I really think you’re blowing this all out of proportion.”

“That’s because you’re human. That gun you’re so impressed by? I can’t be as impressed because I’m afraid it will be pointing at
me
someday if she finds out what I am.”

David stopped, shock written across his face. “I wouldn’t let it happen.”

Laurel laughed sharply. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, do you really think you could stop her? Her and all those—I don’t know—ninjas she’s got working for her?” Laurel twined her fingers through David’s. “I have great faith in you, David, but I doubt you’re very good at stopping bullets.”

David sighed. “I just hate feeling so powerless. It’s one thing to take my own life in my hands”—he chuckled ironically—“I’m a crazy teenager; we do that kind of stuff all the time.” He sobered and was silent for a few moments. “But it’s something else completely to have you in danger, and Chelsea, and Ryan, and all the other kids at the party. Things got really real tonight, Laurel. I was scared.” He laughed. “No, I was terrified.”

Laurel looked down at her lap and twisted the tail of her shirt with her fingers. “I’m sorry I got you involved,” she mumbled.

“It’s not that. I love that you got me involved.” He took both of her hands and held them until she looked up at him. “I love being a part of your world. And despite almost dying last year, that was the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.” He laughed. “With the possible exception of tonight.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed each one. “I love what you are and I love
you
.”

Laurel smiled weakly.

“I just think we need help.”

“We have help,” Laurel insisted. “I’ve had faerie sentries watching my house for six months.”

“But where were they tonight?” David asked, the volume of his voice rising. “They weren’t there.
Klea
was there. Like it or not, she saved us and I think that earns her some trust.”

“So you want me to drive back and tell her everything? Tell her I’m a faerie and the real reason Barnes was after me?” Laurel asked hotly.

David took her hands and pressed them together between his. It was something he always did to help her calm down. She focused on their joined hands and took several long breaths. “Of course not,” David said softly. “There’s no reason for her to know anything more than she knows now. I just think you should trust her enough to accept some assistance. Not guards,” he said, before Laurel could protest, “but if she wants to keep an eye on us when we’re not at your house, is that such a bad thing?”

“I guess not,” Laurel mumbled.

“We put a lot of people in danger tonight, Laurel. Now, I know we’re going to be more careful in the future, but in case something like this happens again, don’t you want”—he lifted the gun, which was looking all too safe tucked into its holster—“another line of defense?”

“But is this really the best way? She just armed two minors, David. Do you have any idea how illegal that is?”

“But it’s for our own good! The law wouldn’t understand any of this. We have to take matters into our own hands.” He paused. “You weren’t worried about the law when Tamani killed those trolls last year.”

Laurel was silent for a long time. Then she straightened up and looked him in the face. “Have you ever shot someone, David?”

“Of course not.”

“Ever pointed a gun at someone?”

He shook his head.

“Watched someone get shot?”

He shook his head soberly now, and very slowly.

“I’ve done all three,” Laurel said, thumping her fingers hard against her chest. “After we escaped from Barnes, I had nightmares almost every night. I still have nightmares sometimes.”

“I do too, Laurel. It scared the hell out me.”

“
Barnes
scared the hell out of you, David. You know what scares me in my nightmares? Me. I scared the hell out of
myself
. Because
I
picked up that gun and
I
shot someone.”

“You had to.”

“Do you think that matters? I don’t care why I did it. The fact is that I did. And you never forget that feeling. That moment when the gun kicks back in your hand and you see blood appear on the person across from you. You never forget it, David. So excuse me if I don’t share your excitement at having another one forced on me.”

David was silent for a long time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I didn’t think.” He paused, then let out a frustrated sigh. “But you don’t really understand, either. You have faerie sentries and potions. I don’t have anything. Can you at least see why I feel more comfortable having come kind of defense?”

“A gun makes you feel big and powerful, does it?” Laurel shot off.

“No! It doesn’t make me feel powerful or more like a man, or whatever other stupid things people say in the movies. But it makes me feel like I’m doing something. Like I’m helping in some way. Is that so hard to understand?”

Laurel started to speak, then closed her mouth. He was right. “I guess not,” she mumbled.

“Besides,” David said with a tentative grin, “you know what a technology whore I am. Microscopes, computers, guns—I love them all.”

It took a few seconds, but she smiled back wanly. “That certainly is true. I remember you turning all CSI Lawson on me when I bloomed last year.” They both laughed—and though Laurel didn’t feel completely comfortable, at least she felt a little better.

THEY PULLED INTO LAUREL’S DRIVEWAY AND,
after a moment’s hesitation, threw open their doors and ran for the house. As soon as they were inside, Laurel turned and pushed the door shut—a little too hard—and the slam echoed through the dark house.

“Laurel?”

David and Laurel both jumped, their eyes turning toward the railing where Laurel’s mom peered down at them with sleepy eyes.

“Is everything okay? You slammed the door.”

“Sorry, Mom. It was an accident. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

She waved their concern aside. “I was up. Some animals have been fighting behind the house, dogs or something. Every time I drift off to sleep, it starts over again. I came down and made myself a cup of tea and things are quiet again. Hopefully for good this time.”

David and Laurel exchanged glances. She doubted very much that there were any
dogs
fighting behind her house.

“Did you have fun?”

“What?” Laurel asked, confused.

“The party. Was it fun?”

Laurel had almost forgotten. “Yeah,” she said, with forced cheerfulness. “It was awesome. Ryan’s house is totally gorgeous. And huge,” she added, hoping she didn’t sound too off. “You can go back to bed,” she said quickly. “David and I are going to watch a movie now. Is that okay?”

“I guess,” she said with a yawn. “Keep it down though, all right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Laurel said, pulling David toward the rec room.

“Dog fight?” David asked skeptically after they heard her mom’s door click shut.

“I know,” Laurel said, her voice worried. “The trolls have been busy tonight.” She peeked out through the blinds, peering into the darkness. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything, but she tried anyway. Guilt surged through her. She didn’t even want to consider the number of both humans and faeries she had put in danger tonight.

David came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

“Please don’t,” she whispered.

He looked at his hands at her sides, then pulled them away and crossed them over his chest, his face confused.

“No, no,” she said soothingly, “it’s not you, it’s my blossom.” She groaned. “It hurts so much.” Now that the stress of the night was really over, the jabbing pain in her back was all she could think about. She fumbled with the knot on her sash, trying to get it undone, but her hands kept shaking. Tears built up in her eyes as she yanked on the sash, wanting nothing more than to get her injured petals free.

“Let me,” David said softly.

She gave up and stood still while David’s soft fingers worked out her hurried knots. He unwound the sash, pushed her shirt up in the back a little, and helped smooth her petals upward. Laurel clenched her teeth and sucked in a quick breath. It was almost as bad letting them loose as binding them down. Laurel pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes as she forced herself not to whimper. “Do you see any damage?” she asked.

David didn’t answer. She turned to look at him. His face wore an expression of pained horror.

“What?” Laurel asked, her voice a whisper.

“It looks like he got a fistful of petals. Tore them straight out. There’s just some ragged edges.”

Laurel’s eyes widened and she looked over her left shoulder, where the familiar light blue petals should have been floating. Over her right shoulder her blossom was intact, but on the left side, nothing remained. The enormous petals were just…gone. A strange but overwhelming sense of loss crashed over Laurel. Tears streaked her face almost before she knew she was sobbing. She turned and buried her face in David’s shirt and let all the despair, terror, and pain of the night finally rise to the surface.

He gently wrapped his arms around her back, carefully spaced so he didn’t touch her blossom. His chest was warm, chasing away the chill of fear and the cold weather alike, and his cheek brushed her forehead, gritty after a few days of not shaving. There was no place in the world she would rather have been at that moment.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling her toward the couch. He lay on his side and she snuggled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Only when Laurel was breathing smoothly again did he speak. “Quite a night, eh?”

She groaned. “I’ll say.”

“So what do we do?”

Laurel grabbed his hand. “Don’t leave.”

“Of course not,” David said, pulling her closer.

“Everything will be fine when the sun comes up,” Laurel said, half trying to convince herself.

“Then I’ll stay all night,” David replied. “My mom will understand. I’ll just tell her we fell asleep watching a movie.”

Laurel yawned. “Wouldn’t be very far from the truth. I’m exhausted.”

“Besides, I’m not ashamed to admit I really don’t want to go back out there tonight.”

“Pansy,” Laurel said, giggling at her lame plant joke for a few seconds before a large yawn overcame her. David could never really understand how hard it was to be awake and active this late at night. She felt like a sieve, constantly being drained of energy without anything to fill her back up. At this point she was running on sheer willpower.

“Go to sleep,” David said soothingly, his hands warm on her shoulders. “I’ll be right here,” he promised.

Laurel snuggled into his chest and let herself relax. In spite of the pain and her lingering fear, sleep came quickly. But with it came dreams of trolls with knives, and humans with guns, and Jeremiah Barnes.

Laurel woke with the sun and tried not to disturb David, but he was a very light sleeper. He opened his eyes, looked at her, and closed them again. A few seconds later they popped open again.

“I’m not dreaming,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“You wish,” Laurel said, trying to straighten her shirt. “I can’t even imagine what I must look like.” Her blossom still ached, but at least the pain wasn’t stabbing anymore. She gave up trying to pull her shirt down; it just made her blossom hurt.

David grinned at her bare midriff and his hands skimmed the sides of her waist, then traveled farther up her back, where he gingerly stroked the undamaged petals on the right side of her blossom. Laurel wondered if he realized just how much she could feel them; as if they were an extension of her skin. Sometimes he touched them idly, almost unconsciously. Other times she would feel his hand linger where the petals were wrapped tightly under her clothes. It felt a little strange to have him touch her like that. Intimate. More than holding hands. More than kissing, even.

“It’s going to be gone soon, isn’t it?” he said, more than a tinge of regret in his voice as he studied the large flower.

She nodded, craning her neck to look back at the blue blossom. “It should be gone in another week or two,” she said. There was a distinct
lack
of regret in her voice. “Maybe less, after last night.”

“Is it really such a bother?”

“Sometimes.”

David’s hands stroked one of the longer petals on the blossom from base to tip, then brought it briefly to his nose and inhaled. “It’s just so…I don’t know…sexy.”

“Really? But it’s so…plantish.”

“Plantish?” David said with a laugh. “Is that a technical term?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. You have this thing on your back that is prettier than any flower I’ve ever seen. It smells amazing and is so smooth and cool to the touch. And,” he added, “it’s magical. What could possibly not be sexy about that?”

She grinned. “Maybe, if you put it that way.”

“Thank you,” David said, licking his finger and drawing himself a point on an imaginary chalkboard.

“But only because it’s not yours,” she countered.

“It’s kind of mine,” he said suggestively, pulling her tight against him.

“Only because I share,” Laurel said.

He kissed her softly and stared down at her face just long enough to make Laurel squirm a little. “Did your mom call?” she asked, changing the subject to shift his focus away from her.

David shook his head. “Not yet, but I’d better go. In fact,” he said, glancing at the display on his phone, “I don’t have any messages, so my mom must not have missed me yet. If I hurry, she might not even realize I didn’t make it home last night.” He stretched. “And I’m really not much of a fan of your early mornings. I could use a couple more hours of sleep before work.”

“How late are you supposed to work?”

“Just from noon to five. Don’t worry.” David was part of the stock crew at the drugstore where his mom was the pharmacist. Being the top dog’s kid definitely had its advantages. He had a very flexible schedule and only worked about two Saturdays a month, with an occasional Sunday thrown in. Of course, Laurel had similar advantages and only had to work at her parents’ stores when she needed a twenty. Or more.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way to keep your mom from going out at night?” Laurel asked.

David rolled his eyes in her direction. His mom was rather famous for being the life of the party.

“I was just asking.”

“Do you still have Klea’s card?” David asked.

Laurel found something interesting to look at on the floor. “Yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

Laurel hesitated, then pulled it out of her pocket. She’d memorized it already.
Klea Wilson,
it proclaimed in bold, black letters. Then a number underneath. No job description, no address, no picture or logo. Just her name and number.

David had his cell phone out and was adding the number to his contacts. “Just to be safe,” he said. “In case you lose this or something.”

“I won’t lose it.”
Although I might throw it away on purpose.
Something about Klea made her uneasy, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe it was just those stupid sunglasses.

“By the way,” Laurel said tentatively. “I think I should go out to the land today. Tomorrow, at the latest.”

David stiffened. “How come?”

“They need to know what happened,” Laurel said, not meeting his eyes.

“You mean Tamani needs to know what happened?”

“And Shar,” Laurel said defensively.

David pushed his hands into his pockets and was silent. “Can I come?” he finally said.

“I’d prefer that you didn’t.”

His head popped up. “Why not?”

Laurel sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Tamani always gets weird when you’re around, and quite frankly, I think you get weird too. I need to sit down and have a serious talk with them about this Klea woman and I don’t need the two of you trying to get at each other’s throats while I’m doing it. Besides,” she added, “you have to work.”

“I could get out of it,” he said stiffly.

Laurel looked up at him now. “You don’t need to. I can do this alone. And it’s not like you have anything to worry about. I’m with you. I love
you
. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, then pulled back and looked at her. “I’ll be honest with you—I don’t like it when you go out to see him. Especially alone; I’d rather be with you.” He hesitated. “But I trust you. I promise.” He shrugged. “I’m just the stereotypical jealous boyfriend, I guess.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” Laurel said, pushing up on her toes for a kiss. “But I’m just going to talk.” She wrinkled her nose. “And clean. I should at least air out the house; no one’s been inside it for months.”

“Are you going to drive?”

“Well, I was going to fly,” she said playfully, pointing to her back, “but apparently it doesn’t actually work that way.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay,” Laurel said, not sure where he was going with this. “Yes, I’m going to drive.”

David’s face was tight. “What if they follow you?”

Laurel shook her head. “I can’t imagine they would. I mean, it’s daylight, for one thing. And its almost all highway. And really, if they followed me all the way to the land, they’d have a rude surprise waiting for them.”

“That’s true,” David said, his brow furrowed.

“I’ll be careful,” Laurel promised. “I’m protected here, and I won’t stop until I get there.”

David pulled her close. “I’m sorry I worry so much,” he said. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you’d consider taking the…um…thing Klea gave us?”

“No,” Laurel said sharply. “That’s enough. Out!” she said, shooing him toward the front door. “Out!”

“Okay, okay,” David said, laughing. “I’m leaving.”

Laurel grinned and pulled him close for a kiss. “Bye,” she whispered. He slipped out the door and she locked it behind him.

“I didn’t think I actually had to
tell
you, no sleepovers with David. I thought that rule was pretty obvious.”

Laurel jumped, then turned to look up at her mother leaning over the banister. “Sorry. We fell asleep watching the movie. Nothing happened.”

Her mom laughed. “Your hair got that way just from sleeping?”

Laurel’s fatigue and stress rolled together with the mental picture of how she must look, and suddenly everything seemed funny. She laughed, then snorted, and laughed harder. She tried in vain to stifle her giggles.

Her mom came the rest of the way down the stairs, her expression halfway between exasperation and amusement.

“I must look
so
bad,” Laurel said, running her fingers through her hair. It was still a little crunchy from the hair spray she’d decided to use last night.

“Let’s just say it’s not your finest moment.”

Laurel sighed and opened the fridge for a soda. “We really did just fall asleep.”

“I know,” her mom said with a smile. She busied herself crushing chewable vitamin tablets with a mini mortar and pestle. “I came down to check on you at two.” She sprinkled the vitamin powder on the soil around the African violets—a trick she’d learned years ago from a man who grew marijuana indoors, ironically. Laurel watched her mom and realized that neither of them had said anything awkward or mean. At least not yet. For a few minutes everything seemed normal. Laurel didn’t know whether to enjoy it while it lasted or lament the fact that it happened so rarely.