Stolen Away (18 page)

We walked through the streets, and Lucas put his arm around me. It probably shouldn’t have made me so happy, considering what was happening all around us, but it did. It was simple, like any boy who liked a girl.

We got to the bus station just before dusk. Clouds gathered, dark as pewter and edged with fire from the last of the sunlight. Lucas glamoured his sword away so no one paid much attention to us. Well, not as much anyway. He was still handsome, with a smile that could sell toothpaste to the toothless. I bought us coffees and we found seats in the back. There was one bus out of town leaving at seven and after that it would be mostly deserted. I texted my mom again, then leaned back against the hard plastic seat.

I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. “Are you really a hundred and eighty-seven years old?” I asked.

I felt him smile into my hair. “Yes.”

“That’s pervy.”

He kissed my temple. “I’m about nineteen by your reckoning. Time runs differently for us, remember?”

“You were the hawk at the party, weren’t you?” I drifted off before he could answer me.

I woke up a little while later. Lucas’s arm was still around my shoulder. I kept falling asleep on him. At this rate he’d get a complex that I thought he was boring. I looked up at him through my lashes. “Don’t you sleep?”

He just angled his head, leaning down. I could see the hawk in him, the alertness, the absolute focus on me and me
alone. I shifted so we were closer. My breath was frayed and there was heat lightning flashing through me. I swallowed, parting my lips.

And then the others arrived.

“I’m beginning to dislike your friends.” Lucas smiled against my mouth. Our lips were touching and we still weren’t kissing.

“Me too,” I murmured back.

We pulled away as Devin set down a large garbage bag. Jo dropped onto the seat across from me. She was ragged, covered in dirt, with her hair in knots.

“What happened to you?” I asked when she didn’t bother to wink at me or waggle her eyebrows suggestively because she’d caught Lucas and me nose to nose.

“A birch tree tried to bitch-slap me.” She looked a little shell-shocked.

I blinked at her, then at Devin. He just nodded. “Blimey,” I said, using her favorite word. A ghost of a smile touched her lips. I handed her the rest of my coffee. “Here. Clearly you need this more than I do.”

“The veil is thinning,” Isadora said, marching along the backs of the chairs. Lucas nodded like that made perfect sense. I glanced at him quizzically.

“The closer to Samhain, the farther the Fae can roam,” he explained. “And the easier it is for mortals to see them.”

“I do
not
like birch trees anymore,” Jo muttered. “If I find one on the farm, I’m chopping it down for firewood.” She
rubbed her arms. “That was
not
fun.” She set down the empty cup, wiping her mouth with the back of her scratched hand. “I’m going to get some air,” she said.

“I’ll come with you,” Devin said automatically.

She smiled wearily at him. “You don’t have to. I’ll be right outside; you can watch me protectively through the window.” She wandered out, still rubbing her arms. She went around the corner to where her car was parked in the alley and sat on the hood. Her hair trailed behind her, the ruffles of her skirt torn. She looked sad.

Devin and I exchanged a worried glance. I wanted to go join her, but I knew better than anyone that sometimes
not
talking was the best cure. So I stayed where I was, in an uncomfortable plastic chair, worrying. Time trickled.

“This is the part of the book I always want to skip through,” Devin admitted, rubbing his face. “The boring rest-until-you’re-strong-enough-and-freak-yourself-right-out-while-you’re-at-it part.”

“You don’t look freaked out,” I assured him.

He snorted. “Of course I don’t; I am coolness personified.”

“If you say so.” I grinned. “Is that why you’re tapping your foot like a deranged hummingbird?”

He opened one eye. “Where’s the love, Hart? Where’s the love?”

We sat back and tried to get comfortable for the long wait. He was right; this part was almost worse than being attacked. The constant waiting, the sizzle of adrenaline in the belly.

“Eloise.” Lucas stood slowly. “Eldric Strahan is talking to your friend.”

Eldric was sprawled on the hood of Jo’s car, the sunlight on his face making him look younger than he had in the rath, surrounded by the Grey Ladies. It warmed him, made him seem more human, more vulnerable. I still wanted to go out there and kick him, though.

Jo looked wretched as it was, but something about her glowed when he was beside her. Even I could see that. “Leave them,” I said reluctantly. “But watch him.”

Isadora floated innocently away, toward the door.

“Don’t let her see you,” I said.

“Teach Grandma to suck eggs, mortal,” she shot back. “I’m going to check on her, then go meet the others. We have maneuvers to discuss.”

“You know Eldric?” I asked Lucas.

“Of course,” he replied tightly. “How could I not? He’s Strahan’s son. He’s not to be trusted.”

I sighed, hearing him echo my own thoughts. Eldric had been benignly ambivalent about my capture and hadn’t lifted a finger to stop the Grey Ladies from giving me away. But he hadn’t hurt me either.

And Jo had good instincts, I felt obliged to admit, if only to myself. She’d never let him hurt Devin or me, no matter how much she wanted to make out with him. Devin was still frowning out the window, but not at Jo. “Storm’s coming.”

He climbed up on a chair and turned up the volume on
the television hanging in the corner. “Hey, Doug,” he called out to his uncle, over the heads of passengers lining up for the last bus. “Change it to the weather channel, would you?” His uncle fiddled with the remote, aiming through the plastic partition of his booth. The channels changed and changed again until he found the right one.

“Residents of Rowan and surrounding areas should take immediate shelter,” the newscaster said in strident, professional tones. “We repeat, a tornado warning is in effect for Rowan and surrounding counties. Active weather is imminent, producing strong and damaging winds, hail, and danger from flying debris. Take immediate shelter in a basement or a room with no windows.”

“But there’s not even any wind,” I said. The trees were still, and even the litter on the curb didn’t skitter across the pavement. The quiet was eerie, actually.

“Not yet,” Lucas said grimly. “But look at the clouds.”

I looked again. The clouds charged toward us, not just black, not just green, but shaped like horses and stags blowing fire from their nostrils. The sky cracked and broke open.

“Get Jo.
Now
.”

“I tried to stay away.”

Eldric climbed up to sit next to me on the hood of my car. The metal was hot and he winced, though that could have been because of the iron. He was careful not to brush any bare skin over the hood. I didn’t turn my head to look at him. I couldn’t bear to see his beautiful brooding face looking distant or cold. I wanted to remember him smiling wickedly, kissing me.

His voice changed. “What happened to you?”

I pushed tangled hair off my shoulder. “The One with the White Hand.”

He cursed softly, under his breath. “I told you this was dangerous.”

“I know.”

He leaned back against the window. “You should put rowan berries and salt in your pockets, for safekeeping.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I wished he would go away. It hurt to have him so close and so far at the same time.

“You’d do well to stay away from me.”

“Yes, you’ve said that already.” Was it really necessary to break my heart all over again? I rubbed my breastbone, as if that would help. “You came to me. Did you have something else to say?”

“Yes. I—” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. He jerked a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it.” His voice was raw. “You can’t belong to Antonia and Eloise Hart and belong to me.”

“Then how about I belong to myself?” Though the truth was I did want to belong to him. Or at least have us belong to each other.

“You don’t get it,” he said again.

“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But neither do you. You’re not your father, Eldric. And you can love him and defy him at the same time.” I smiled but there was no humor in it. “I’m proof of that, with you,” I added softly.

“I don’t know what you have planned, though I’m sure it’s something reckless and insane, but my father can never know about you. About us.”

“You said there is no us,” I replied evenly. “So you don’t need to be afraid that I’ll embarrass you.” I bit the inside of my cheek. Farm girls don’t cry, I reminded myself.

He swore again, took me by the shoulders and forcibly
yanked me around so that I was facing him. His curious gray-flecked black eyes blazed. “I’m not ashamed of you, you daft cow. I
love
you.”

I blinked rapidly, choked out a laugh. “I think I love you too, you tosspot.” I reached up to touch the ends of his hair. “Because you’re so romantic.”

He lowered his forehead to mine. “God, Jo. Don’t become a part of this, please. Let me hide you where you’ll be safe. You could die.”

“So could El and Dev. And you.” I kissed him lightly, barely a brush of lips. “And we’ve had this conversation,” I reminded him, running my hands up his arms, just because I could. His muscles moved under my fingertips.

“You are the most infuriating person I’ve ever known.” He said it softly, like poetry.

“Right back at you, handsome.”

“My father can’t ever know that we’ve even spoken. Do you understand?”

“Are you that frightened of him?” I asked.

“Of what he could do to you? Yes,” he said grimly. “Especially if he thinks there’s something between us. Promise me, Jo. Whatever happens, don’t attract his attention.”

“Okay, but we’re going—”

He cut me off with a deep kiss. It turned sudden and desperate, heated so quickly I had to grab his shirt to steady myself. Our hair tangled together. His lips were clever, wicked. I was like chocolate melting in the sun.

“I can’t know,” he finally rasped. “Don’t tell me.”

We kissed again, until the pressure in the honey-thick air around us changed. My ears popped. I pulled away, looking around. The air was tinged with green, as if we were in a cloudy aquarium full of algae. Dark clouds boiled in the west, where the last of the sunlight set them on fire. The air tingled and it wasn’t just because I could still feel Eldric’s kiss on my lips.

“This is tornado weather,” I said, scrambling off the car.

He slid to his feet as well, his hair lifting in a hot wind that flared and died just as suddenly. He studied the sky, a faint frown between his brows.

“That’s not just a tornado.” He went stark, sharp. “Get inside.”

“What?” I made a fist, though I doubted I could punch a rogue Unseelie Fae in the face with much success. I may as well start practicing.

“That’s the Host.” He stepped in front of me, his arm protectively across my body.

I stared up at the clouds as they pressed toward us. At a second glance, there were horses striking lightning from the sky with their hooves. They were the blue purple of a fresh bruise. An enormous black stag kept pace, fire blowing out of its nostrils. Thunder rattled under its hooves. Their riders held up spears and swords, all etched with silver. They were black and gray and white and indigo, all the colors of the worst storm you’ve ever seen. The kind that breaks houses and people, that opens the earth and overflows rivers.

“I’m guessing the Host is bad?” I asked as the wind picked up again. Litter flew across the street, pushed up against parked cars. I shaded my eyes from the stinging dust. Devin pounded his fist on the window beside us, trying to get us to come inside.

“The Host are Unseelie. And this is a hunting party of sorts. Samhain revels where they pluck unsuspecting mortals off the streets.” He eased me toward the bus station, so I was partly hidden from view by the overhanging roof. “You need to get inside,” he said again. The storm churned and growled, sounding like a train bearing down on us. The wind was pinning us down. I was starting to feel like a heroine in a Victorian melodrama, with the villain twirling his storm-black mustache. We tucked our heads and pushed against the wall of heat and debris. “Before they see you. Before my father finds out.”

“They know your father?” I shouted over the wind and thunder.

His smile was frosty. “They’re my uncles. Family isn’t just about blood in Faerie; it’s about allegiances.”

“Well, your family sucks.” I gasped as the roof of a convenience store began to tear off like an orange peel. A pop can hit me in the kneecap. The garbage bin on the sidewalk skidded toward us. Rain began to slice through the green air, like needles.

The Host galloped closer and closer. A bicycle crashed into a car. The windshield shattered, scattering glass like
shards of ice. Trees bent double; a maple sapling in a concrete planter snapped. Ghostly rabid dogs howled between the wind-horses and fire-stags.

Devin struggled against the weight of the storm to open the door. My hair was whipping around so that I could hardly see. The door finally opened, but barely. Devin pulled, Eldric pushed, and I popped through, scraping my elbow on the handle. A clay flowerpot filled with wilting geraniums hit the window, cracking it. Someone inside screamed.

The Host was passing over us now, laughing and singing a strange, morbid song I tried not to listen to. One of the dogs trailing behind snapped his head down, eyes blazing. He caught sight of Eldric and howled, changing his course so quickly he created a backdraft that slammed the door shut, nearly severing my arm.

Eldric was on the other side. I pulled on the handle even as Devin pulled on me.

“You need to get under a chair,” he yelled. “Before the window gives out.”

“But he’s alone out there!”

The Fae dog bore down on Eldric, jaws wide, teeth flashing. He was the size of a pony, with shaggy black fur that swirled like rain clouds. He barked and thunder shook the sky, pushed Eldric’s hair back.