The Faerie Prince (Creepy Hollow, #2) (14 page)

In my dream I’m in a park fighting a goblin. It’s the same assignment I went on a few weeks ago, but the weather is different. Lightning splits the sky into jagged pieces, and deafening thunder causes the ground to shudder. Wind whips strands of hair across my face as I slash at the goblin with my sword. A trail of sparks follows the blade. I know I’m supposed to kill him with the sword—I remember that happening—but for some reason, I decide to do something different now.

I let go of the sword, and it vanishes. Flames begin to dance and flicker across my open palms. They shouldn’t burn me, because they’re my flames, but they do. I run at the goblin, screaming both in anger and because of the pain in my hands. I wrap my burning fingers around the goblin’s neck. He’s strong and should be able to fight me off, but dreams don’t work the way reality does, and instead I find him struggling beneath my grip. I manage to force him to the ground, my hands never leaving his neck until he becomes still.

I stand back, the flames still burning in my palms, and suddenly the goblin is no longer a goblin. Now it’s Nate lying at my feet, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at the stormy sky. But it isn’t a stormy sky any longer. It’s a tunnel. The tunnel I killed Nate in. No, not Nate. I killed the shapeshifter who took on Nate’s form. So who is lying at my feet now? Did I just kill the real Nate?

No no no! What have I done?
I tug at my hair in anguish. The flames are all over me now, burning brighter and brighter, and
hurting
so much I can barely—

I wake with a start, my hands burning just as much in reality as they were in my dream.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ryn crawls over to me and takes my arm. His fingers are cool against my skin.

“Just a dream . . .” I say, sitting up and staring at my hands. The grey light of dawn reveals an absence of flames, but the burning is definitely real. “My hands. I can feel them burning. Look at how red the skin is—”

“Calm down,” Ryn says, but he hurries to open the bag and pull out the first aid kit. “Now which one did I use last night?”

“Man, this lack of magical healing thing is
really
not cool.”

“Here.” Ryn takes one of my hands and quickly squeezes gel onto it. The relief I feel is immediate. “Better?” he asks.

“I can still feel some pain, but it’s definitely a whole lot better.”

“See? The human stuff does work on you.” He spreads a thick layer of gel over my hands and wrists while I blink a few times in an attempt to wake up my fuzzy head. I’m not used to feeling this tired; the magic inside me usually replenishes my energy pretty quickly. Ryn moves to my other hand. “Do you see them in your dreams?” he asks quietly.

“Them?” I echo.

“The ones you’ve killed. From your past assignments.”

Oh.
Them.
I don’t want to answer him. I’ve never enjoyed talking about the creatures I’ve had to kill, despite the fact that Tora forces a counseling session on me each time it happens. I prefer to pack all my feelings away into the Stuff I Don’t Think About box in my head and leave them there.

“I do,” Ryn says. “Not always, just every now and then.”

After a moment, I say, “So do I.” He’s making an effort to be honest with me about something, so I suppose I should reciprocate. “I try not to think about them at all, but they often show up in my dreams.”

“Yeah, it sucks,” he says. He twists the cap back onto the tube. “I hope your hands begin to heal soon because there isn’t much of this stuff left.”

It seems our conversation about killing things is over. Thank goodness.

Ryn pulls out the map book and locates the road we’re on. Good thing one of us was paying attention to the names of the streets instead of just throwing up on them. I let go of my control freak tendencies and let Ryn figure out the way home while I rest my head on my knees. It’s a new feeling, trusting someone else to do something that directly affects me, but right now I kind of like it.

“Okay, it looks like it should take us about two days to reach the point where this realm meets the fae realm,” Ryn says after examining a few pages.

“So, it’s Wednesday morning, which means . . . we should get there by tomorrow night. Great, that’s before the cut-off time.”

“And then we’ll have to get through the forest to the Guild.”

“Okay, but we should still reach the Guild before the end of Friday afternoon, right?”

“Yeah, if you don’t hold us up,” Ryn says with a wink. He packs away the blanket and first aid kit while I stand around uselessly with sticky, gel-covered hands. “Next thing I’ll have to feed you because you can’t hold your own energy bar,” he says.

“Not happening. I’d rather stay hungry until this gel stuff has dried.”

*

We walk. Along the streets, through the parks, and past the shopping centers. I feel horribly vulnerable, not only because I’m barefoot and wearing little more than a torn dress, but because without my magic I have no glamour to conceal myself from the human world. I wonder what people must think of us as they drive by in their cars. They probably take one look at the blood smeared across Ryn’s shirt and step on their accelerators.

We eat energy bars for breakfast and lunch—the one with the dark chocolate around the outside is definitely my favorite—and continue walking after dark to make up for my slow pace. I want to push myself to keep walking all night, but when we reach a quiet neighborhood, Ryn decides we should stop. After having an altercation with a dog in the first garden we try to creep into, we find a pet-free property.

“How are you feeling?” Ryn asks as we sit down behind a small tool shed.

“Tired, sore, hungry, and
really
mad at the person who improved these magic-blocking bands. The last time I had one on I managed to force some magic out. It was incredibly painful, but it worked. Now that isn’t possible anymore.”

“Oh, I didn’t think to try that.” Ryn sits up straighter. “Maybe—”

“No.” I shake my weary head. “When we were in his dungeon, Zell told me he improved the bands so they now block magic completely.”

“And you believed him?” Ryn looks down at his arm, his expression becoming intense. The skin around his metal band grows red and inflamed, and I swear I can hear sizzling.

“Stop!” I grab his arm with my still very tender but no longer burning hands. “Don’t be an idiot, you’re just hurting yourself.”

“Flip, that was rather painful,” Ryn says, sounding a little out of breath. “Why didn’t you stop me sooner?”

I close my eyes and shake my head before leaning back. “I don’t have energy to argue with you.”

“In that case, you need another energy bar.” Seeming to forget his pain, Ryn reaches for the bag and unzips it. “Then you’ll be ready to argue all night long.”

I groan. “Another energy bar? Is that the
only
food item you managed to find in that kitchen?”

“There was a box of them on the counter. I just grabbed as many as I could. If you’d prefer to eat
nothing
, though, that could definitely be arranged.”

I stick my tongue out at him. Yes, my tongue. Because that’s how much I care about being mature right now.

Ryn pulls two bars out of the bag. “Okay, do you want the nut one or the chocolate one?”

Despite the fact that I
obviously
want the chocolate one, I say, “I don’t mind. Whichever.”

“Just pick, V.”

“No, I don’t mind. Really. I like them both.”

“Here. I know you want that one.” He hands me the chocolate one with a grin.

“You don’t know that.” But I take the bar from his outstretched hand.

“Yes, I do. I know you a lot better than you think, V.”

“Whatever.” I tuck my legs beneath me. “You just missed out on eight years of my life and you want to tell me you
know
me?”

Ryn pulls his knees up and rests his elbows on them. “I know when your birthday is. I know that you let Filigree sleep in your bed when you’re cold. I know that you hate being given purple gifts, and I know that you have a weird habit of twisting your hair around your finger when you’re nervous.”

My mouth drops open. “How is that a
weird
habit?”

He shrugs. “Maybe because it’s not something I could ever imagine doing myself.”

“Because you’re a guy. That
would
be weird. And how do you know I still let Filigree sleep in my bed?”

“Do you?” he asks.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Fine. Well, I know that you’ve never dated any girl at the Guild because you think you’re too good for them, and I know that you have a ‘weird habit—’” I make air quotes “—of occasionally pressing your hand against your chest like you have indigestion or something.”

He looks startled for a moment, then turns his face away from me so I can no longer see his expression.

“What? Did I say something wrong? Is it supposed to be a secret that you think you’re too good for any trainee?”

He returns his gaze to me as though nothing weird just happened. “Not at all.”

“So it’s true? You really think you’re too good for those girls?”

His eyes don’t move from mine. “Not exactly. It’s more like I’ve been trying to avoid the mess.”

“The mess?”

“Yeah.” He unwraps his energy bar. “Do you have any idea what girls are like? Far too emotional, far too much of the time.”

“Uh, I am actually a girl, Ryn. And no, I didn’t really know that.”

He finishes chewing and says, “Well, that’s because you’re not like other girls.”

Not like other girls?
An awkward silence grows between us. “Wow, thanks, Ryn. Next thing you’ll be telling me I’m like one of the guys.”

He sighs. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Whatever.” I hold a hand up. “I’m not offended, trust me. I’ve heard a lot worse from you in the past.”

He grins. “You see what I mean? You don’t do the whole overreacting thing. In fact, you probably are more like a guy than a—”

“Okay, you should stop talking now before you
really
put your foot in it.”

He finishes his energy bar, then says, “It’s not like I’ve had zero relationships, though. Undergrounders are pretty cool. I’ve got to know some of them quite well, and believe it or not, they’re not
all
out to kill us.”

“Undergrounders?” He nods. “Like . . . the non-faeries who hang out in the super dangerous part of Creepy Hollow known as
Underground
?”

“The very same place. There was this one really hot girl—well, woman, really—who had beautiful green scales all over her arms and a serpent’s tongue. Man, that tongue was amaz—”

“OKAY, thank you,” I interrupt loudly. “I don’t know if you’re making that up to freak me out or if you really did get together with some snake woman, but either way, I don’t need to know any more.”

With a smile I can’t decipher, Ryn lies back on the grass. “Since we’re on the subject of relationships . . .”

Oh no. Please don’t make this conversation about me.

“Halfling boy is the only boyfriend you’ve ever had, right?”

Nate.

It’s the first time I’ve thought of him all day. That must be a record. “Yeah, why?”

“You’ve never dated a faerie?”

“No.” I start to feel uncomfortable. “So what?”

“You’ve never
kissed
a faerie?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Oryn.”

He raises his head and looks at me. His eyes sparkle with mirth. “Like I said before, you’re missing out.”

Before?
What is he talking about? He doesn’t volunteer any explanation, and I’m not about to ask him; I’d prefer it if this conversation ended right now.

“Maybe you should give it another chance.”

Or maybe I should have changed the
subject
when I had the chance.

“There’s got to be some faerie out there who’ll appreciate your unique combination of guardian hotness, competitive nature, and stubborn attitude.”

“Even if there is, it’s not happening.”

“Come on, you’ll never know what you’re missing if you don’t dip your toe back in the dating pond.”

The dating pond?
Trust Ryn to come up with a dumbass analogy like that. “I tried, remember? After years of steering clear of the ‘pond,’ I dipped my toe in and almost got my whole leg chomped off by an attractive fish that turned out to be a sea serpent in disguise.”

Ryn chuckles. “I’m sure some guy will come along who’ll manage to impress you.”

“Well, it’ll have to be one seriously impressive stunt to convince me he’s worth it.”

“Like what?
Dying
for you? Because that would put an end to the relationship pretty quickly.”

“No, Ryn, not like
dying
for me.” When I don’t continue, he looks at me with raised eyebrows, as if waiting for an answer. “Jeez, I don’t know, Ryn. Like a gazillion glow-bugs lighting up the night sky with their tiny glowing butts or something.”

 “Glowing butts?” Ryn bursts out laughing. “When I find a girl who’s worthy of impressive stunts, it’ll be more like a magic carpet ride to watch the sun set than a bunch of tiny, glowing asses in the air.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s my thing.”
Or not.
I have no idea where the ‘glowing butts’ comment came from. Although it might actually be kind of pretty now that I think about it. “And magic carpets don’t exist,” I add.

Ryn tilts his head back to gaze at the sky. “That’s why it’ll be so impressive.”

*

My hands don’t feel quite so tender the next day, which makes room for the pain in my arm. Ryn changed the dressing and bandage before we fell asleep last night, and the wound wasn’t looking good. It doesn’t bother me too much, though. We’ll be back at the Guild tomorrow, and after the metal band has been removed, my arm will heal quickly.

We walk even slower than yesterday, and by the time the moon has risen high in the sky and we’re too tired and sore to continue, we still haven’t reached the crossover point into the fae realm.