The Faerie Guardian & The Faerie Prince

I run, but my wet feet slip in the large puddle that’s formed beneath our dripping bodies, and before I know it, I’m falling.

  “Vi!” Ryn reaches for me just as I catch myself against the wall—which suddenly gives way. Ryn pushes me into the darkness and follows me. He leans against the wall—door?—to close it, quickly whispering something as the light narrows to a crack and vanishes.

  Darkness surrounds us, so complete it feels like it’s pressing against my eyeballs. “What did you say just now?” I whisper to Ryn.

  “Just a spell to dry all that water. Our footsteps would lead right here otherwise.”

  I feel for the wall with my hands and press my ear gently against it. I can’t hear a thing. “Where are we?” I ask.

  “A secret passage between the walls, I imagine. The princess must use it to get around without being seen.”

  Several more moments of silence pass before I say, “Well, maybe we should conjure up some light and follow this passage. We don’t know if that guy is still out there.”

  “We also don’t know where this passage leads. Imagine if we wandered into the Queen’s bedroom, dripping wet, while she was having a morning nap.”

  “I doubt she takes morning naps,” I whisper back. “And can’t I at least create some light in here? Surely it can’t be seen from the room out there.”

  When Ryn answers, his voice sounds closer than it was before. “Afraid of the dark, are you, Sexy Pixie?”

  “Of course not.”

  So I don’t conjure up a light. Neither does he. I hear a noise in the sitting room. Something moving along the floor, then bumping into the wall. I take an involuntary step backward. I feel Ryn right beside me. His arm, still wet, brushes mine. I can hear him breathing. His hand moves, and his fingers slowly entwine with mine. My heart does a dizzying dance in my chest, and because the darkness is so complete, I have no idea what’s about to happen until it’s already happening.

  His lips graze mine, which startles me so much I almost pull away. But I don’t. I grip his fingers tighter and press my body closer because—yes oh yes oh yes—I want this so badly. Our lips touch again, with more pressure this time. He pulls his fingers free from mine and slides his hand all the way up my arm. I imagine I can feel sparks jumping across my skin. Through my closed eyelids, I see flashes of light, and the realization hits me: The sparks he’s trailing up my skin are real.

  His fingers dig into my wet hair and pull my face closer to his. He twists me around, pressing me against the wall. I feel his body along every inch of mine; no space exists between us. His lips brush along my jaw, teasing me with kisses that feel cool against my burning hot skin. He trails a finger—more sparks—down my neck and over the swell of my chest, ending when he reaches the edge of my top. I think a gasp escapes my throat, but I’m not sure since all I can hear is the pounding of blood in my ears.

  His kisses reach my lips again, and this time I part them. His tongue slides over mine, producing a delicious tingling sensation. More sparks. I reach up and run my fingers through his hair. If I could pull him any closer than he already is, I would. His hands slide down my sides, over my hips, and stop at the top of my legs. His grip tightens, and in one swift movement, he pulls me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he slips his hands beneath my top, his fingers sliding up the bare skin of my back.

  The logical part of my brain suddenly wakes up and starts screaming at me to get out of here. What am I doing? This is the guy who has flings with Undergrounders and mocks the feelings of Guild girls who’ve dared to like him. This is the guy who hurt me so many times after Reed died that I swore I’d never let him close again.

  But he isn’t like that anymore. He isn’t. And I can’t stop. I want so much more. The kisses. The sparks. The thrill that runs through me when he says my name. Our teasing and joking around and just being together. I want all of it.

  Above the pounding in my ears I hear something like glass shattering. I don’t care. The sparks of light are dancing all across our bodies, and this is exactly where I want to be. Every inch of me desperate to be even closer to him.

  Ryn tears his lips from mine long enough to gasp, “I told you that you were missing out.”

  Something inside me freezes.

  He swings me around again, pressing me hard against the wall—but it’s the wrong wall. It flies open and the two of us land in an ungraceful heap on the floor of the princess’s sitting room. Glass shards litter the floor, several chairs are lying on their sides, and smoke rises from a charred cushion.

  I scramble to my feet when I see someone standing over us: the man we were trying to hide from. “Okay, this is not what it looks like,” he says, holding his hands up. “All this damage here? I didn’t do it. It just … happened.”

  “What?” Ryn asks, clearly confused. The man looks just as guilty as I feel. “Who are you?” Ryn demands, just as the man asks exactly the same thing.

  I don’t know what’s going on. Ryn and I aren’t supposed to be here, and obviously this guy isn’t either. But I don’t care. Logical me is freaking out. Freaking out. All I want is to be as far away from here as possible. Without another thought, I turn toward the garden and run as fast as I possibly can.

  Twenty-Three

  I don’t stop running until I reach my bedroom. I lock the door behind me and lean against it, breathing hard. If Ryn tried to follow me, he didn’t do a very good job, because I can’t hear anything on the other side of the door. Just to be safe, I hurry into the bathroom and lock that door behind me too. I don’t want to hear him if he comes knocking.

  I told you that you were missing out.

  Is that what the kiss was about? Just Ryn proving himself right? I was so caught up in the moment that I’d probably have handed over my heart if he’d asked, and all he was doing was proving a point? I lean against the door and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor. I run both hands through my damp hair and tug at it. My chest aches with emptiness, but it serves me right for being so stupid. I’ve known all along that these feelings would only end up getting me hurt.

  I hide out in the bathroom all afternoon until I hear the clothes caster at my bedroom door. At first I’m afraid it’s Ryn knocking, but the clothes caster’s high-pitched voice carries easily through both doors.

  She takes in my bedraggled appearance with raised eyebrows. When I say nothing, she gets to work. She dresses me in some detestable puffy, purple creation which, fortunately, has minimal sparkles. My hair obviously offends her because she frowns every time she looks up at my head. Instead of leaving me to deal with it myself, she mutters a spell to get rid of the drowned look and rolls and twists and pins so fast that I’m not quite sure how it all winds up piled on top of my head. It doesn’t look too bad, though, and I appreciate her speed. With a disapproving shake of her head, she gathers her things and leaves.

  I quickly remove the colorful ribbons from my wrist and shuffle across to my bedroom door. I need to get out of here before Ryn arrives to escort me downstairs. I crack my door open and peek out. No Ryn.

  Whew.

  I hurry downstairs as fast as the puffiness will allow. The guy who smiled at me last night is standing near the throne room doors, and I decide now is the time to be friendly. I introduce myself, and he seems weirdly excited to talk to me. I do my best to pay attention to what he’s saying, but it’s a little difficult when I spend the first few minutes of our conversation anxiously looking out for Ryn and the next few purposefully avoiding Ryn’s gaze. I can tell he’s watching me, though, and embarrassment heats my neck.

  Dinner is horribly awkward. Ryn and I are seated even further from the Queen than last night—probably due to my rudeness—and I spend the entire evening with my body angled away from Ryn trying to make conversation with the guy on my left. The girl on his other side looks a little put out that he’s ignoring her. Part of me feels bad, but I’m so desperate to talk to someone other than Ryn that I’ll do anything to keep this guy’s attention.
r />   When dinner comes to an end and everyone begins standing up, I’m the first one out the door. I hear Ryn’s voice behind me: “V, hang on.” I walk faster. I’m not sure I can run in this puffy thing, but I can certainly give it a try. As soon as I round a corner, I take off. Ryn’s hurried footsteps follow me. “Just wait, dammit,” he calls. My brain tortures me with a memory of my legs wrapped around his waist and his body pressed against mine.

  Ugh, could I have embarrassed myself any more if I’d tried?

  “Violet!” Ryn’s shout is so loud that I stop. I stand at the foot of the stairs with my back to him. Water spilling from the mermaids’ outstretched hands trickles in the background. “I don’t get it,” he says. “What are you upset about?”

  I turn slowly and look at him. There are a lot of things I want to say, but the words that end up leaving my mouth are, “Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

  He looks so confused that for a moment I’m confused too. Have I missed something here? Misunderstood what really happened between us? But then I notice movement beneath an archway behind him, and all thoughts of our kiss vanish as I lay eyes on the imposter faerie who’s stolen my father’s shape. It seems the idiot is stupid enough to show up in the same room at the same time as last night.

  “Hey!” I shout as he disappears into the darkness once again. “Stop!” I dash after him, almost falling onto my face as I step on the front of my dress. I kick the stupid layers out of the way, pull the skirt up with both hands, and take off again. He’s already halfway to the copse of trees he disappeared into last night, and I’m still running down the hill. I’m considering ripping off the bottom half of my puffy monstrosity when Ryn tears past me across the grass. Just before the shapeshifter reaches the pavilion, Ryn takes a flying leap and tackles him to the ground. They struggle. Sparks of magic fly here and there. Just as I reach the pavilion, the shapeshifter manages to get to his feet. I can see he’s about to make another run for it, and my weapons tingle with warmth as they settle in my outstretched arms.

  “Stop!” I point my bow and arrow directly at him. “Who the hell are you and how dare you take on the form of my father?”

  He meets my angry gaze, slowly raises his hands, and shakes his head.

  “And what is that supposed to mean? You don’t know who you are? You’re refusing to answer me?”

  Ryn climbs to his feet and comes to stand by my side. From the corner of my eye, I notice his sparkling whip in his right hand. “I believe she asked you a question, shapeshifter.”

  The man shakes his head again, still watching me. “You don’t want to do this, V.”

  I’m so startled by his use of my nickname and his voice that sounds exactly like my father’s—obviously—that the bow and arrow almost disappear from my grasp. How does he know my father always called me V? No. Concentrate. I’ve been tricked by a shapeshifter before and I won’t be tricked again. “You seem to know who I am, so it’s only fair you tell me who you are.” When he says nothing, I shout, “Tell me!”

  The shapeshifter closes his eyes and sighs. The look of defeat on his face gives me hope; he’s going to cave and tell me what’s going on. He sits down in a cushioned chair, leans forward on his knees, and looks up at me. “My beautiful girl,” he says softly. “You look so much like your mother.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I should have known you’d be here. Of course you’d win the graduation prize—it’s what you always wanted, and you worked so hard for it.”

  “Okay, I don’t know what you’re doing—” aside from creeping me out “—but you’re not answering my question.” I walk over to him and hold the arrow inches from his forehead. “Who. Are. You?”

  He raises his eyes and says simply, “Your father.”

  Despite the warmth of the evening air, a shiver races across my arms. “My father is dead,” I tell him. “I saw his body. They put it in a canoe and I watched him float away and disappear beneath the Infinity Falls. He’s gone, which means you’re not him.”

  He rubs a hand across his eyes. “I’m so sorry, V. You weren’t supposed to ever find out about this. At least, not until everything is finally over and we’re safe again.” He groans and mutters something about the Queen and being careless.

  “I hate to be repetitive,” I say, “but you’re not answering my question.”

  He focuses somewhere on the floor and says, “It wasn’t me in the canoe. It was a shapeshifter. The Queen used him to fake my death so I could continue a dangerous assignment undercover. Everyone had to believe I was dead so that the person I’m after would no longer be suspicious.”

  I feel a part of me daring to hope. It sounds farfetched, but maybe it’s true. Maybe this man sitting here really is my father.

  “Do you expect us to believe that?” Ryn asks. “What a ridiculous story. Wouldn’t a shapeshifter return to his or her original form when dead anyway? If your story’s true then we would have seen some stranger in the canoe, not Violet’s father.”

  I shake my head. “I killed a shapeshifter. He …” He still looked like Nate when he was dead. “He didn’t return to his original form after he died.”

  “You don’t have to believe me.” The man stands, and I keep my arrow trained on his forehead. “In fact, it would be better if you didn’t. It would be better if we all walked away now and pretended this hadn’t happened.” His voice is steady, but his eyes are filled with an infinite sadness. Damn, this guy is either a really good actor or he’s telling the truth. He looks straight at me and says, “You should let me go.”

  “That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” Ryn mutters. He turns to me. “Can’t we give this guy a compulsion potion and force him to tell the truth?”

  “We could. Or he could just answer a question.” I’ve managed to think of something nobody else should know. “What did my father say to me the night the boy everyone loved died?” That should be cryptic enough if this man really is a fraud.

  The-man-who-might-be-my-father steps closer to me. So close that my arrow is almost touching his skin. “What do you want, Violet?” he asks softly. “Do you want it to be me? Or is it easier for you if I’m nothing but an imposter?”

  My voice cracks when I say, “I already know it’s you.” I think I knew the moment he called me V.

  Alive. He’s alive. How am I supposed to process this?

  “Forgive my cynicism,” Ryn says, “but I’d still like to hear the answer to that question.”

  My father looks at Ryn, then back at me. He takes a deep breath. “You saw my tears and said you’d never seen me crying before. I told you it was only the second time I’d shed tears in my adult life. I also told you that I didn’t know why, but I’d always loved that boy like he was my own son.”

  I nod. That’s exactly what Dad told me. Dad. My father. Who isn’t dead. The realization hits home and a shudder passes through my body. “Dad?” I whisper.

  He pulls me into his arms. “Baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’ve missed you every single day. I never wanted to leave you.”

  Amidst my tangle of emotions, I find myself wriggling free from his arms. “But you did,” I say through my tears. “You did leave. You said everyone had to believe you were dead, but why me? Why couldn’t you have just told me what you were really doing? I would have kept your secret. You know I would have.”

  “I especially couldn’t tell you, V. You were in danger. He wanted to kill you. You had to believe I was dead or he would have searched until he found you.”

  “What?” What the freak is he talking about?

  “I always knew you’d be angry if you ever found out about this, but I’ve never regretted it. As much as it broke my heart to leave you, my decision kept you safe. It was worth the pain we both had to go through.”

  Anger flares within me. What right did he have to decide what pain I should go through? Ryn touches my arm. “Don’t fight with him, V. He’s alive. This should be a moment
of joy, not anger.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed. Tears drip over the edge of my eyelids and run down my cheeks. Why is Ryn always right? I should be rejoicing right now, not acting like a difficult child. I step forward and wrap my arms around my father’s neck. He hugs me back. This is real, I tell myself. His arms around me are real. And although I detest talking about feelings, I figure I should tell him something, just in case this is all a dream and I don’t get another chance. “I love you, Dad,” I whisper.

  “I love you.” He squeezes me tight and lifts me off the ground for a second. “And I’m so proud of you. You’ve grown into such an amazing, smart, beautiful young lady—and guardian.” He sets me down on my feet. “And why are you wearing this hideous dress? You hate purple clothes.”

  I laugh as I wipe tears from my face. “I didn’t choose it. Didn’t Mom tell you that they pick your outfits for you when you stay here?”

  Dad shakes his head with a chuckle. He looks over my shoulder and extends a hand to Ryn. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here either. You were always just as competitive as Violet. Congratulations on graduating at the top of your class.” He shakes Ryn’s hand. “I am surprised to see the two of you standing in the same room without wanting to hurt each other. I thought you’d both sworn never to be friends again?”

  I look at Ryn, then quickly look away. “Yes, um, we decided to put all that behind us.”

  “Uh, I have a question, sir,” Ryn says. “Was it you I saw at the Harts’ house?”

  “What?” I ask just as Dad nods and says, “Yes.”

  “Um … yeah.” Ryn turns to me. “Remember when I said I saw someone who looked like Cecy? Well, I was lying.”

  My mouth gapes open. “You saw my father and you didn’t tell me?” I try to shove him but he catches my hands.

  “I just figured it couldn’t possibly be him, so why freak you out?”

  “Ryn, that is so not a good enough reason to keep something like that from me.” I feel hurt and betrayed, but I’m trying to be mature, so I let it go. I sit down on the edge of a chair and turn to my father. “Okay, you have a lot of explaining to do. What undercover assignment are you on that’s taking so many years to complete? And why exactly was it better for everyone if we all thought you were dead? You said someone was trying to kill me? And what exactly were you doing at the Harts’ house?”