Illusions

  “So what if Lancelot hadn’t been around at all?” asked David. “What if Guinevere had really had a chance to make it work with Arthur? It still sounds like Lancelot was to blame for the whole thing.”

  Tamani saw Laurel and Chelsea exchange glances. It was obvious that no one was talking about Lancelot and Guinevere anymore. Not wanting to distress Laurel, Tamani pretended to check his phone and stood. “Maybe,” he said. “But Arthur was a great king, especially for a human, and if you ask me, he’d rather lose a challenge than be handed an easy victory.” He gave David a long look then smiled. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, spinning his keys on the end of his index finger. He left the room, closing the door behind him without looking back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  LAUREL TOOK A SHORT BREAK FROM THE HOT, HUMID dance floor and walked into the slightly less hot—though heavily perfumed—bathroom. She checked under the doors of the stalls, but no one was there. Alone for a moment, Laurel carefully stretched and adjusted her shirt over her blossom—a little achy from being bound so many days in a row—then sighed and leaned her head against the cool mirror.

  She really did like dances. For the first hour, anyway. But after a while the room felt too dark, and there were no sunlit windows to give her a dash of rejuvenation. On top of that, the music seemed extra loud tonight and her headache was back with a vengeance.

  Teach me to stay up so long past sunset, I guess.

  Still, there was only half an hour left. Laurel leaned over the sink and splashed icy water on her face. Blotting it dry with a paper towel, Laurel studied her light complexion in the mirror and—even if it was just wishful thinking—decided her head felt a little better. She was glad it was a casual dance; T-shirts all the way. She didn’t think she would have been up for a formal tonight.

  The three couples had all started the evening in Laurel’s kitchen with Laurel’s mom’s homemade appetizers. It was interesting to watch Yuki out of the corner of her eye. She had lifted the appetizers carefully to her nose, trying to figure out what was in them before taking that first tentative bite. She was actually pretty nice. Very shy, but Laurel sensed there was more she couldn’t see. It was fun to have her around, as long as Laurel didn’t think too hard about the fact that the only reason they were all together was because Yuki was on a date with Tamani.

  After the snacks everyone piled into the convertible—Tamani’s idea, to keep them all together. Thank goodness for bench seats. There weren’t quite enough seat belts, but as long as the person sitting in the middle of the front seat—Yuki, squeezed in close between Tamani and Laurel—had a jacket or something sitting on her lap, you really couldn’t tell. Not that there was a police officer alive who could give Tamani a ticket.

  Laurel was letting the water run idly over her fingertips when she heard one of her favorite songs start. Feeling a bit of a second wind, she returned to the dance floor and found David. With a playful growl, she jumped on him from behind. He grabbed her arms and bent forward, lifting her off her feet and making her squeal. Then he swung her around and pulled her to his chest, his nose resting against hers. “Dance?” he whispered.

  She smiled and nodded.

  David took her hand and pulled her toward the middle of the dance floor. Laurel snuggled up to his chest and David held her close, his arms wrapped around her back, one above her blossom and one below.

  As the song wound down, David grinned and twirled Laurel around. She laughed, enjoying the way the lights swirled when she looked up. She was in her third spin when Laurel caught Tamani out of the corner of her eye. He was several feet away, dancing with Yuki.

  For most of the night they had danced cautiously—typical first-date awkwardness—their bodies a few inches apart. Now Yuki had pulled herself closer, her temple resting against Tamani’s cheek. Tamani’s arms were loose around her back, and his brow was furrowed, but he didn’t put any distance between them. Didn’t push her away. As Laurel watched, he sighed and leaned his head against Yuki’s.

  The faerie couple was circling, slowly, and suddenly Tamani’s eyes met Laurel’s. She expected him to look guilty, to push back and make Yuki stop hugging him. But he didn’t. His gaze was level, calm, emotionless. Then, very deliberately, he closed his eyes and laid his cheek back against Yuki’s forehead. Something inside Laurel froze.

  Then David was pulling her back around to face him. When she looked up he was smiling warmly at her. He hadn’t witnessed that moment—that awful, terrible moment—at all. She made herself smile up at him as the slow song faded out and a loud, bouncing song crashed in.

  David’s fingers twined through hers and they walked to the edge of the dance floor, Laurel forcing herself not to turn and look around. When they stopped, and she could turn without making David suspicious, Laurel did, her eyes scanning the crowded room, searching for Tamani. She finally spotted him on the far side of the gym, laughing at something Yuki was saying.

  “Hey, David,” Laurel said, hardly able to smile over the lump in her throat. “There’s only, like, fifteen minutes left of the dance, do you think we could cut out a little early?”

  David looked down at her, concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Laurel said, still keeping her smile. “I just have a headache. Have most of the night, actually.” She laughed shortly. “I swear I’m allergic to this school. The loud music doesn’t help.”

  “Sure,” David said. Then, pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, “After that last dance I think it’s all downhill anyway. I’ll go get Tam,” he said with a laugh. “I imagine he and Yuki are both ready to go too, whether they’ll admit it or not.” He turned away and Laurel reached out for his hand, pulling him back.

  “Can’t we just walk?” she asked. “It’s only half a mile to my house. We used to walk all the time, before we both got cars.”

  David’s face turned serious. “Are you sure? I thought we were all supposed to stay together.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” Her eyes darted to Tamani. He still hadn’t seen them, but it was only a matter of time. “There hasn’t been any real danger for months and months. There’s probably, like, a million sentries in town by now.”

  “And at least one troll,” David noted.

  “Besides,” Laurel said, ignoring that, “I never go anywhere without my trusty kit,” she said, edging toward the coat rack and grabbing her purse. “We’ll be safe. Please? We haven’t been alone all night. I just want some quiet.”

  “It’s cold.”

  Laurel grinned. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “You will not, you’re practically cold-blooded,” he said, laughing. But he grabbed his jacket from a hook and placed a hand at her back, guiding her toward the double doors that led out of the gym.

  It was a huge relief to get out of the gym and enter the quiet atrium where only a few people were mingling.

  “Thanks,” Laurel said, then pointed toward the rear doors. “Let’s go this way.”

  They had only gone a few steps before the doors of the gym flew open, cracking against the walls behind them. Laurel and David both turned and saw Tamani burst from the gym, his eyes scanning the room until they lit upon Laurel.

  “There you are,” he said as soon as he was in earshot. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going home,” Laurel said, not meeting his eyes. “We’re going home. It’s not that far; you guys can stay and finish the dance.”

  “Like hell,” Tamani said, his voice tight.

  “Hey!” David said. “Back off.”

  Tamani sighed and lowered his tone. “Laurel, please just wait. It’s my job to protect you and I can’t do that if you’re running off alone in the middle of the night.”

  “She’s not alone,” David countered.

  “She may as well be. You can’t protect her.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t even try to pretend you have your gun tonight,” Tamani said, cutting David off. “I scoped you out earlier.”
>
  David’s mouth closed. How often does David still carry his gun? Surely she would have noticed—it couldn’t be that often. Could it?

  Tamani clenched and unclenched his fists, then raised his head, looking remarkably calm. “I’m not trying to get in your way, David. We just need to stick to the plan, no matter how safe things seem. Please just wait while I get the others so I can drive you home. Then I’ll leave and you . . . you can do whatever. But let me get you home safely. Please?”

  Laurel looked up at David, but she knew he would be on Tamani’s side. He hadn’t really wanted her to walk home either.

  “Fine,” Laurel said in a small voice.

  “Thank you.” Tamani turned and hurried back into the gym. As soon as the doors swung shut behind him, she felt David’s hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get us away fast enough,” David said. Then, after a moment of hesitation: “But I do feel better this way.”

  “Nothing is going to happen!” Laurel said, exasperated. “Nothing has happened for months; nothing’s going to happen tonight!”

  “I know,” David said, holding both of her hands. “But it doesn’t hurt to be safe. Once we get there we can send everyone home and you and I can watch a movie and forget about everything else, okay? Ten more minutes, and it’s just you and me, all right?”

  Laurel nodded, not trusting herself to speak. That was exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she needed. A night of David.

  Soon Tamani led the other three out of the gym.

  Laurel forced a smile and looked at them. “Sorry to be such a spoilsport,” she said brightly. “I have this major headache and the music is just making it worse.”

  “No problem,” Chelsea said, linking one arm with her. “The dance is basically over anyway.”

  After a moment of silent communication with Chelsea, Laurel climbed into the back of the car to sit between the two guys, and Chelsea sat up front with Yuki and Tamani. After giving her a long, questioning look, Tamani faced front and started the car.

  Laurel watched dark houses roll by, thinking how absurd it was that Tamani thought she needed protection from this. Never mind what Jamison had said to her, so long ago, about flytraps. Barnes was dead. Barnes had been smart; it made sense that he would lay in wait, planning and scheming until Laurel dropped her guard. Whatever was left of his horde didn’t seem to be doing anything but hiding and, failing that, dying.

  Halfway down an empty stretch of road, a large shadow registered at the corner of Laurel’s vision, then darted in front of Tamani’s car. Laurel didn’t even have time to scream before Tamani’s brakes squealed—too late. The car smashed into something with a sickening thud and Laurel was thrown hard against her seat belt, the strap biting into her shoulder before pulling her back and slamming her against the seat.

  Beside her David swore and yanked at his seat belt. Laurel could see the white of the deflated airbags in front of Tamani and Chelsea.

  Airbags.

  Seat belts.

  Yuki.

  Doors were opening and everyone was detangling themselves from their restraints, but Laurel only saw Yuki, slumped against the dash. She groaned and started to push herself up, and clear drops of sap dripped down her forehead. None of the guys were paying attention; they had all run to see what Tamani had hit. Laurel had to do something; it was too dangerous for Ryan to see this.

  “Chelsea, give me your shirt!” Laurel hissed as she crawled over the seat.

  “But—”

  “Now!” Laurel yelled, wishing that she could explain that she couldn’t use her own because of her blossom.

  Chelsea hesitated, then yanked her shirt over her head to reveal a lacy black demi-bra. Apologetically, Laurel took the shirt and leaned forward, pressing it against Yuki’s head.

  “Wha?” Yuki muttered, blinking.

  “Stay still,” Laurel said, her voice low. “We hit something—you cut your head—you have to hold still or they are all going to find out,” she said, injecting as much meaning as possible into her last few words.

  Yuki’s eyes widened and she nodded, then cringed. “Ow,” she said through gritted teeth, as the pain cut through her disorientation.

  Laurel looked up when she heard shouts from the front of the car. Illuminated by the convertible’s high-beams were three figures in faded navy jumpsuits, their uneven, snarling faces marking them instantly.

  Trolls.

  Then suddenly someone was flying through the air, smashing against the hood of the car. His head bounced hard against the windshield, adding a star-shaped crack to the webbing of fractures Yuki had already created. “Ryan!” Chelsea screamed, but Ryan’s head lolled to the side and his eyes fluttered before closing.

  “Give us the girl,” growled one of the trolls, “and no one else has to get hurt.”

  Tamani leaped forward, snapping one leg out with a resounding crack! against the side of one troll’s head. The troll stumbled back slightly as Tamani sprang away, evading another troll’s clumsy punch.

  “Chelsea!” Laurel said sharply. “Take the shirt—hold it against Yuki.”

  “I can’t,” Chelsea said, trying to climb past her. “I have to—Ryan—I have to go—”

  Laurel grabbed Chelsea’s arm. “Chelsea, if you climb up there you will just draw their attention to him. You need to stay here and help me. That’s the best way to help him.”

  Chelsea’s eyes were wide and panicked, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  “Now take over here for me.”

  Chelsea’s warm hands slid on top of Laurel’s to take their place.

  “Yuki!” Laurel held Yuki’s face in her hands, trying to get her to concentrate, but her eyes were still vaguely unfocused. “Use your phone. Call Klea!” There was no way to hide this from her—may as well get her help.

  Laurel jumped to the backseat and grabbed her purse, sifting through it for a sugar-glass globe the size of a large marble. Wrapping her fist around it, she burst out the passenger-side door and ran to the front of the car. Just as she rounded the headlights, someone tackled her at the waist, bringing her to the ground. As she fell, she threw the ball at Tamani’s feet and heard it shatter.

  Thick smoke rolled up from the pavement, engulfing the fighters in a haze that refracted the beams from the headlights. As soon as she saw the smoke start to billow Laurel turned her shoulder and threw an elbow hard at her assailant.

  David grunted and grabbed her arm, shielding himself from a second blow. “It’s me!” he said in a strangled voice. “I couldn’t let them see you.”

  “Sorry!” Laurel whispered, turning her attention back to the smoke. It was so dense she couldn’t see any movement in it. She stared hard, willing the potion to work.

  Something staggered out of the cloud. A troll? Laurel clenched her hands together, hoping. But after a misstep the figure stood tall again. It was Tamani. He braced himself against the hood of the car and lifted both legs to kick out hard against the two trolls that followed him. They fell back, giving him enough time to raise two knives in front of him and swing one in a wide arc that left a spray of blood in its wake. The troll in front of him vanished back into the smoke and Tamani turned his attention to the others.

  “They shouldn’t be able to fight!” Laurel said, panic gripping her chest. The globe contained a serum that attacked animal irises, temporarily blinding them—but had no effect on faeries. “They should be helpless! David, I have to do something.” She tried to rise from the pavement, but David’s arms held her like a vise.

  “What? Get yourself killed?” David whispered. “Believe me, the best thing you can do for him right now is to stay put.”

  He was right, but Laurel felt like a complete traitor as she hunched back down, safely hidden in David’s arms, watching Tamani fight for his life. For all their lives. She saw him whirl, turn, and feint; heard the whistle of the knives as they cut through the air, the groans of the trolls as Tamani’s blades bit into their flesh. He was fast
, but Laurel knew he had to be—one or two hits from a troll and it would all be over. The fight couldn’t have taken more than thirty seconds, but it felt like hours before one of the trolls let out a high-pitched whine and collapsed to the ground. The other two ran away from the car, heading for the woods.

  Laurel peeked around the tire, waiting for the next wave of trolls, but everything was silent.

  She glanced over the door into the car where Chelsea sat with her shirt still pressed against Yuki, her eyes locked on Ryan, who lay motionless on the hood. Tamani was bent over, hands on his knees, bracing himself as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Tam!” Laurel said desperately, her voice cracking as she stood.

  Tamani’s eyes darted to her, but only for an instant. “David,” he called, pushing his arms under the fallen troll, “help me! Quickly!”

  David ran to help lift the heavy troll and they pulled him off to the side of the road and stashed him behind a fence.

  “I’ll deal with him later,” Tamani said, running back to the car. “Now this one.”

  It was the first time Laurel had actually gotten a good look at what had jumped in front of the car. It was definitely a body. Its lifeless eyes, bulbous nose, and thin, patchy hair sent shivers down her spine. It wore only rags and looked more animal than human—like Bess, the troll Barnes had kept chained like a dog.

  “A lower,” Tamani said. “A sacrifice. They knew it would die and tossed it out here anyway. Help me, David.” He grasped the dead troll under its arms and David grabbed its short, thick legs, turning his head to the side to avoid the sight, or perhaps the smell.

  They jogged back to the car as Ryan let out a moan and tried to roll over. “He’s waking up,” Laurel said, clutching David’s arm. “We need to get him back in the car or he’ll figure it out.”

  David grabbed Ryan around the chest and dragged him off the hood, dumping him rather awkwardly into the backseat of the convertible.

  “What happened?” Ryan asked, his hand clutched to the back of his head.

  Laurel could almost feel everyone holding their breath. “Car accident,” Laurel said hesitantly. “You hit your head.”