Stolen Away

  We were so badly outnumbered it was ridiculous. I dropped the knife and grabbed the chain instead, swinging it over my head like a lasso. It created a small circle around us, as long as I was careful not to touch Lucas with it, or knock his sword out of his hand.

  More guards rushed in, like crows and beetles and fire ants at a picnic.

  “I’m so taking more self-defense classes when I get home. The ones at the community center didn’t cover this.” My corset dug into my ribs. I swung the chain harder, ignoring the twinges in my muscles.

  Lucas was bleeding into the handwoven carpets. His tunic was in shreds, his hair damp with sweat. The stones were cold and unyielding at our backs. He dropped to his knees with a grunt of pain, blood staining what was left of his sleeve.

  “Hang on,” I told him and then leaped forward so I was right behind him, one leg on either side. I swung faster and wider. My shoulders were screaming now, but I gritted my teeth against the pain.

  The guards froze, waiting me out. One of them glanced at Strahan for orders. I made sure the chain grazed him, singeing his cheek. “Ha!” They eased back a few more steps. Winifreda was pouting. Strahan didn’t look concerned, but not nearly as pleased either.

  “You can’t keep this up indefinitely,” he called out in his cultured tones, sounding vaguely bored. I hated that he was right. I knew I couldn’t keep my arm up much longer, and then they’d swarm us. They might not kill me. I wasn’t much good as a hostage if I was dead, after all; but I had no doubt I’d end up in some dark hole with rats and spiders. And I didn’t know what they’d do to Lucas, run him through or torture him. There was definitely a score to settle there.

  “You let him go,” I said, sweat dripping down the side of my face. “You let him go free and I’ll put this down.”

  He shook his head, leaned against a table. “My dear girl, you’re in no position to give orders.”

  I kept the chain moving, though the arc was sagging. “I might be tired, Strahan,” I said with as much haughty disdain as I could manage. “But I bet I can reach that pretty face of yours before they take me down.”

  “Not with a sword through your throat.”

  “Maybe not, but I wouldn’t be much leverage then, would I? Come Samhain you won’t have a single advantage.” Apparently fear and fatigue was making me shoot my mouth off.

  Lucas groaned. “Eloise, leave me.”

  I ignored him.

  Strahan lifted an eyebrow. “I must say you are proving more interesting even than I first thought.”

  Winifreda sniffed. “She was pitifully easy to fool.”

  “Be that as it may.” He tossed the apple core away. “Enough of these games.” He motioned to the guards choking the hall. “These men will die for me. Now put down that silly toy.”

  My arm was starting to go numb, and I was out of options.

  “Get the hell away from my niece.”

  I didn’t know where she came from. She was just suddenly there, regal in a green velvet gown with red cardinals circling over her head.

  “Aunt Antonia!” I faltered, suddenly just a normal girl again, in frilly white skirts swinging a chain over her head and feeling stupid. She glanced at me, smiled faintly. There were iron bangles around her wrists and an iron torc necklace at her throat. Her tattoo of ivy leaves wound its way down her left arm, like mine.

  “Antonia,” Strahan said and there were so many emotions in that one word I couldn’t begin to decipher them all. Winifreda glanced at him, frowning. “You have something of mine.”

  “That old thing,” Antonia scoffed. “I tossed it away years ago. Did you really think I’d want to be reminded of you?”

  “You had better be lying, woman.”

  She nearly smiled. “So that’s your weakness,” she said. “The ribbon.”

  He snarled, advanced.

  “You’re not to go near Eloise again.” Antonia stepped closer to me. “Ever.”

  The chain clanged when I dropped it. Lucas pushed himself stiffly to his feet, using his sword to hold himself up. “Antonia,” I babbled with relief. “I’m so sorry. I ate the food. It’s totally my fault.”

  “This is not your fault,” she said gently before lifting her hand and slapping me right in the chest, pressing the medallion into my skin. “Go home, Eloise.”

  Chapter 8

  Jo

  “Run!”

  Isadora sounded frantic, but she was so small that a stray cat or an angry pigeon might be enough to worry her. I looked over my shoulder, wondering how long Devin was going to stay mad at me.

  And then it made perfect sense why Isadora was freaking.

  Perfect sense.

  My feet were moving before my brain had caught up. There was a buzzing in the air, menacing and strange. It sent tingles across the back of my neck.

  Apparently, Isadora wasn’t mates with the other Fae. Especially not the tiny flower Fae riding the back of wasps and hornets and screeching at us. They sat in saddles embroidered with sequins, the wasps obeying their every signal. Their arrows looked more like silver needles than any feathered and sharpened arrow I’d ever seen. One of them sliced the air near my ear.

  “Shite!”

  “Don’t let them hit you,” Isadora warned.

  “Well, duh!”

  I ducked and ran faster, legs pumping madly until my calves felt like rocks and my lungs were filled with molten lava. Devin was just up ahead, totally oblivious to the swarm of angry Fae coming up right behind him.

  “Dev!” I hollered. “Move it!”

  He turned on one scuffed Converse and rolled his eyes. “What now?” He blinked, blinked again. “What the f—”

  I grabbed his sleeve and dragged him along with me.

  “What the hell are those things?” Needles gleamed in the grass by our feet.

  I yanked harder. “Run away now. Talk later.”

  The wasps were quick and there were enough of them to make me anxious, even without their demented riders. Fear sat like a lump of dry bread in my throat, choking me. An arrow pinched into the back of my arm. “Ouch! Bollocks!” I pulled it out, tossed it aside.

  Isadora was sweaty and furious and very unfairylike. “You have to run faster.”

  “I can’t! I don’t have wings, in case you hadn’t noticed!” I panted, and then swore when another arrow bit into my elbow. “Those things hurt.”

  Devin swatted one off the back of his neck. “Wasps hate water,” he said, opening his knapsack, scattering loose change and chocolate bar wrappers as he searched for a bottle of water. He jogged backward, squeezing the plastic bottle so the water squirted out. One of the wasps lost control of its wet wings, a lime green fairy somersaulted in midair with a similar problem. The rest just moved into some kind of formation, like they were some military insect battalion.

  “Now you’ve made them mad!”

  “Shit! Shit!” He threw the bottle at them and then went back to running as fast as he could.

  “Get inside somewhere,” Isadora said before tossing insults behind her. “Son of gopher dung! Goat tick!” She dove behind a garbage can to avoid being hit. “I need my bloody sword!”

  “Eloise’s apartment,” I wheezed, forgetting to use the British term “flat.” We passed the playground. “It’s closest.”

  People were looking at us as if we were insane, which we probably were. All they saw were two teenagers running and waving their arms at nothing. Eyes narrowed disapprovingly and the word “drugs” was muttered more than once. My shoulders were beginning to make me feel like a hedgehog. And I was light-headed, a little faint. Devin was a weird gray-green color, even with his dark skin.

  “I feel funny,” he slurred. I squeezed his hand. My tongue felt too thick in my mouth and it was hard to talk.

  We hurled ourselves across the street, ducking into the alley toward the side doors, since they were closest. I’d never noticed how heavy they were. Devin tried to pull on the handle and lost his balance. Isadora shot straigh
t up the wall of windows until she found an open one and disappeared inside.

  He slumped against the wall, shaking. “I don’t feel so good, Jo.”

  “Me neither,” I croaked. “We’ll be okay.” I kept repeating it because it had to be true. “We’ll be okay.”

  We both hung from the door handle, trying to use gravity to make us heavier. Dropping like a stone was about the only power either of us had at the moment. The door creaked open. Wasps came around the corner, their savage riders spotting us with high-pitched war whoops.

  We tipped over like dominoes, me into Devin and Devin through the narrow doorway. Needles clattered into the window. Devin grunted, trying to pull me inside. The heavy door swung shut on our legs. I was so tired, I was seeing double.

  In fact, I was so tired, I was seeing two of Hot Guy.

  He bent down and scooped me up against his chest. I let my arms dangle, like I was floating. “You’re so pretty,” I mumbled.

  “And you’re a fool,” he said darkly. “You stink of hawthorn smoke.”

  He stepped sideways, and suddenly we weren’t in an alley sticky with spilled garbage and thick with arrows anymore. We were in a small room with a ceiling of dangling tree roots and lanterns. The only light came from those lanterns, candles flickering, their light filtering through jewel-colored glass. There was a carved bed piled with blankets and hung with blue velvet curtains, and an old-fashioned hutch filled with books. The heavy wooden door was bolted shut.

  I was safe, cradled in the arms of a moody, beautiful boy. His heart thundered loudly against my ear. He let me go and I slid down his body. His T-shirt had turned into a black medieval-style tunic edged with blue embroidery somewhere along the way. And I was now wearing a matching blue velvet dress, like ice over a stormy lake. It had long bell sleeves and silver ribbons. My hair was wrapped in a pearl snood. I touched the silver bracelets on my wrists, confused.

  “Fae glamour,” he whispered. He stood very still, like a dog expecting to get kicked.

  “You’re Fae,” I said, details suddenly fitting together like puzzle pieces. The water witching, what he knew about hawthorn trees, the fact that he kept appearing out of nowhere. The way his kisses made me feel as if I were falling. “Is that where I am? In Faerie? Where’s Devin? And did you cure me?” I pushed up my sleeves. There were little scratches and pinpricks on my skin, but I didn’t feel sick or lethargic anymore. “Those arrows made me feel funky.”

  “Elf-shot,” he explained. “I can only cure you as long as you’re here. You’d need salt in your world. But this is my own small corner of the world, where no one can intrude, not even my father.”

  “And Devin?” I pressed. “Is he here too?” It didn’t seem likely, unless he was under the bed.

  “No.”

  I gaped at him. “He’s still at the flat getting attacked?” I grabbed his hand. “Take me back! Right now!”

  “So you can die too?” His voice was harsh.

  I felt all the blood drain out of my head. “Devin can’t die.”

  “He might not. If he’s strong enough.”

  “Take me back!” I punched his shoulder for emphasis.

  “We still have time,” he said, gripping my wrist tightly when I went to punch him again. “Time runs differently here. A few more minutes here will be less than seconds for him.”

  “Do you promise?”

  He inclined his head. “Would it matter if I did?”

  “Of course it would.” He was different here. Which was the real him? Hot Guy? Or the one I’d walked the fields with? Or this one?

  His eyes glittered. “Then yes, I promise.”

  I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay.”

  “You could stay,” he suggested. “With me.”

  “Am I trapped here?”

  He shook his head. His expression was cold and haughty, but there was something else in his eyes, something that hurt to look at.

  I wondered suddenly if Eloise was here. After all, how many doors to the Fae world were there in Rowan? I tried to whirl around to get to the door, but he was still holding my wrist. He didn’t let go, even when I tugged.

  “I can’t protect you out there,” he said.

  “Who are you really?” I whispered. We were close enough that I could see the odd gray flecks in his eyes, the angle of his sideburns along his jaw. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he just dropped my arm abruptly. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were so dark and intense that my mouth went dry. He rolled up his sleeve, showing a tattoo of a leaping stag with ivy in its antlers. I’d seen that same design on Eloise’s medallion.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m a Hart.” He smiled, but it was sharp and derisive. He jerked his sleeve back down. “Like your friend Eloise.”

  “I . . . You know Eloise?” I asked, head spinning. “Is she here?”

  I went for the door again. I managed to pull it open a few inches before he was behind me, slamming it shut. I pulled and he pushed. He was stronger than me. It was infuriating. I turned around to glare at him. His arm was extended, palm flat against the door right by my head.

  I suddenly wondered, for the first time, if I should be afraid of him.

  My pulse stuttered in my throat. He smiled again, just as mocking. Only I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or himself.

  “You’re in a rath under the ground,” he said, caging me with his body even though he wasn’t even touching me. “If you go through that door, you’ll end up buried in earth or in another rath. I can guarantee they won’t look kindly on the intrusion. You wouldn’t like the reception.”

  My head was starting to spin. “This is insane.” I glanced down at my gown again. “I feel like I’m in one of Devin’s fantasy novels, or a Dungeons and Dragons game or something.”

  He crowded me. “This isn’t a storybook,” he said menacingly. He blinked, and I was wearing my regular clothes, my long skirt smeared with dirt, my hair a dusty, sweaty tangle. He wore his torn jeans again, his scuffed boots. He leaned in so that I had to look up to meet his eyes. They were inscrutable. His hair fell forward, veiling us from the soft light.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I said evenly. My heart was pounding, but it wasn’t fear I was feeling. Not exactly.

  “Then you really are a fool.” He pushed away, his hands dropping to his sides. “My name is Eldric Strahan,” he said.

  My eyes widened until they hurt. “Shite.” Not exactly my most poetic of responses.

  “You’ve heard of our illustrious family,” he drawled, and bowed. It was a horrible, polite, sophisticated movement. It was graceful and sarcastic, and it made me want to kick him.

  “Don’t do that,” I said quietly.

  He straightened. “You should hate me.”

  “Why? You just saved my life.”

  “My father stole your friend away.”

  “Did you help him?”

  “No.” His sullen mouth crooked with a sad smile. “But I didn’t hinder him either.”

  “So you can make up for it by helping us now,” I insisted. “Come back with me. Help us break Eloise out.”

  “Or you could stay with me.” His arm slipped around my waist, drawing me against him. His voice caressed me, struck sparks of longing in my belly. “We could run away,” he murmured, brushing his lips lightly over my temple to my ear. “We could go anywhere, be anyone. Let them fight their battles without us.” His teeth bit gently down on my earlobe. I shivered, clutching at his arms.

  “We could go to Provence and live on a lavender farm and eat brioche every morning.” I turned my head so I was smiling against his lips as I wove another daydream. “Or to Scotland and live in a castle with ghosts and sheep.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted.

  “Exactly,” he said, and kissed me so slowly it made me want to cry. Our breaths mingled, became one. “Anything you want, Jo.”

  ?
??I just want you,” I returned softly. Then I forced myself to step back. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. “But I can’t.”

  He closed his eyes for a long, painful moment. When he opened them again they were stark and hollow. Something inside me broke. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, forcing myself not to throw myself at him.

  “You want to go back,” he said flatly.

  “You know it’s not that simple.”

  “It is. If you won’t stay here with me, and you won’t run away with me, then this is good-bye.”

  I felt cold all over. “No.”

  “It has to be.” He turned his head away, his hair blocking his expression.

  “Eldric, please.”

  He flinched at his name. But when he tossed his hair off his face, he was smiling. I hated that smile. “I could refuse to bring you back,” he said.

  I looked at him steadily. “You won’t.”

  “How can you trust me still?” he asked furiously.

  “Do you trust me?”

  He remained stubbornly silent.

  “You do,” I told him. “I know you do. For the same reason I trust you.” I didn’t tell him I loved him. But I wanted to. “What about Devin?” I asked. “Can you rescue him too? Please?”

  He nodded sharply and then took my hand. He didn’t say anything, didn’t stroke my wrist with his thumb, didn’t even look at me. He stepped back and fell away into nothing, pulling me with him. It was like the sudden drop of a roller coaster, the feeling that there’s nothing under you and you might fall forever.

  We landed in Eloise’s rooftop garden, with the sun glaring down on us. He vanished again and reappeared in the next second, dropping a weak and cursing Devin beside me. I felt the venom of the arrows running through me again, pressing on me like rocks. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the long, silent look Eldric gave me before he disappeared.

  Chapter 9

  Eloise

  I landed on our couch.

  My mother was just coming out of the kitchen when she saw me fall out of nowhere, followed by a boy dressed like King Arthur. She made a sound like “yaaargl!” and then threw her cup right into the air. She didn’t even blink when hot tea rained over her. Elvis yowled and tore off.