The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2)

The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #2) Page 3

“Yeah, and now look where she is,” Kingston shot back. “I don’t know what you did to her while you were gone, but you’re gonna wish you never came here.”

“Wait. What?” I frowned, still trying to keep the jocks in my sights. “What do you mean? Where is Kenzie now?”

Kingston shook his head. “You didn’t hear, freak? God, you are a bastard.” He stepped forward, eyes narrowing in pure contempt. “Kenzie is in the hospital.”

CHAPTER TWO

MACKENZIE’S FATHER

My stomach dropped.

“She’s in the hospital?” I repeated as fear and horror spread through my insides. I remembered something Kenzie had told me about herself while we were in Faery, something big and dark and terrifying. “Why?”

“You tell me.” Kingston clenched his fists. “You put her there.”

Pain exploded through my side; one of the other jocks had lunged in with a punch to my ribs while I was distracted, knocking me to the side. I gasped and staggered away, ducking beneath the other’s left hook and raising my fists in a boxing stance as all three came at me.

Kingston swung viciously at my face; I jerked my head back, letting the knuckles graze me, before lunging forward with a body shot that bent him forward with a grunt. At the same time, one of his friends hammered a fist into my unprotected back. I winced, absorbing the blow, then spun around Kingston to use him as a shield. He snarled and threw an elbow back, trying to bash me in the face. I caught his arm, pivoted him around in a circle and threw him into his friend.

As they both toppled and rolled to the concrete, the last jock slammed into me from behind, wrapping me in a bear hug, pinning my arms. I jerked my head back, cracking my skull into his nose, and the jock shrieked a curse. Slipping from his grasp, I whirled behind him, drove my foot into the back of his knee and yanked down on his shoulders. He hit the pavement with a gusty whoof, expelling all the air from his lungs, and lay there dazed.

But the other two were climbing to their feet, looking homicidal, and I didn’t want to stay any longer. Breaking from the fight, I leaped into my truck and slammed the door. Kingston stepped up and smashed a fist into the window as I pulled out, glaring at me with murder in his eyes. A hairline crack appeared where his ringed knuckle struck the glass, but thankfully nothing more, as I maneuvered the vehicle around the jocks out for my blood and fled the parking lot.

It took a few minutes on my phone to find the hospital closest to Kenzie’s house, and I drove there immediately. I was supposed to go straight home from school, and probably should have—my parents still weren’t recovered from my trip into the Nevernever—but all I could think about was Mackenzie. And how I was the reason she was hospitalized. Maybe not directly, but it was still certainly my fault.

Kenzie had leukemia, an aggressive type of cancer that affected the blood cells. She’d told me as much when we were stuck in the Nevernever, and the prognosis wasn’t very hopeful. That was the main reason she’d wanted the Sight, why she wanted to stay in Faery. She didn’t know how long she had, and she wanted to see everything she could. Her illness also made her relatively fearless and a lot more daring than she should have been. Even when offered the chance to go back home, she’d refused to abandon me, sticking it out through sword fights, kidnappings and near-death experiences, tromping from one end of the Nevernever to the other while dodging faeries, Forgotten and other things that wanted to eat us.

And now she was in the hospital. It had been too much. Everything had finally caught up with her, and it was all on me. If I’d never brought her into Faery, she would be fine.

I pulled into the crowded parking lot and sat there, gazing at the big square building in the distance. A part of me, the part that had withdrawn from the whole world, the part that kept other people at arm’s length to keep them safe from the fey, told me not to go in there. That I had already screwed up Mackenzie’s life by dragging her into the hidden world, and the best and safest thing for her would be to stay far, far away from me.

But I couldn’t. I’d already promised her I wouldn’t disappear, and honestly, I didn’t want to. Kenzie had the Sight now, same as me, which meant the fey would be drawn to her. And there was no way I was going to let her face them alone. Besides, she would never let me get away with that.

I crossed the parking lot and entered the hospital, finding a waiting room full of bored, solemn and worried-looking people. Ignoring them, I approached the reception desk, where a frizzy-haired nurse was sitting behind the counter, talking to a policeman.

My heart jumped a little, and I backed up, watching the officer from an inconspicuous corner. There was no need to be twitchy, I told myself as the nurse laughed at something the cop said. I wasn’t in trouble. I’d done nothing wrong. But I’d also had my fill of talking to cops for the day, and I wasn’t winning any Upright Citizen awards with my appearance. If the officer thought I looked suspicious, all he’d have to do was pull up my file to see a list of crimes staring back at him. It wasn’t worth the risk or the hassle.

I hung back in the corner until the policeman finally left, then approached the desk.

“Excuse me,” I said as the receptionist lifted her gaze and raked me up and down from behind her glasses. “I’m here to see a friend of mine. Can you tell me which room Kenzie St. James is in?”

The nurse gave me a doubtful look. I could see her stamping the hooligan label on my forehead even before she informed me, in a voice of strained politeness, “Visiting hours are almost over. Are you a friend of the family, young man?”

“No,” I replied. “Kenzie is a classmate of mine. We go to the same school.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She gave me another skeptical look, as if questioning that I even went to school, and I bristled.

“Look, I just want to see her for a few minutes. I won’t stay long. I just want to make sure she’s okay.” The nurse wavered, and I forced out a near-desperate “Please.”

She pursed her lips. For a second, I thought she would refuse, tell me to get out before she called the policeman back. But then she gave a short nod toward the hall. “Very well. Ms. St. James is in room 301, on your left. Just keep it short.”

Relieved, I thanked her and hurried down the hall, checking the number beside each door frame, passing identical rooms full of beds and sick people. As I wove around a janitor’s cart, a woman and a young girl, maybe around nine or ten, came out of one of the rooms ahead of me. I stepped aside to let them pass, feeling a jolt of recognition as they walked by without glancing at me. I didn’t know the tall blonde woman, but the little girl I’d seen before. She had been in a key-chain photograph with Kenzie, both of them smiling at the camera.

Mackenzie’s stepsister. Alec or Alex or something like that. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore a blue-and-white school uniform as she trailed beside her mom, heading back toward the waiting room. I watched until they turned a corner and disappeared, wondering if Kenzie’s sister really knew what was happening to her stepsibling. When I was her age, I didn’t understand why I never saw my older sister; I only knew she wasn’t home, wasn’t part of the family, and I missed her. I hoped Kenzie’s sibling never had to go through that—the pain of knowing you had a sister, and then you suddenly didn’t anymore.

The doorway they’d exited shone with a faint blueish glow. Peeking into room 301, I swallowed hard. Against the far wall, Kenzie lay in a white hospital bed surrounded by softly beeping machines. Her black hair was spread across her pillow, and her eyes were closed. A round table overflowing with flowers and get-well-soon balloons hovered next to her.

Guilt stabbed at me, raw and painful, but it was nearly smothered by the worried ache that spread through my chest when I saw her. The Kenzie I knew was never still—she was always bouncing from place to place, smiling and cheerful. To see her like this, pale, fragile and motionless, filled me with dread. Ducking into the room, I crossed the floor to her bedside, gripping the rails to stop myself from touching her. If she was asleep, I didn’t want to wake her, but as I approached the bed, she stirred. Dark brown eyes cracked open blearily, confused as they focused on my face.

“Ethan?”

I forced a smile, even as I cringed at the sound of her voice, so faint and breathy. “Hey, you,” I said, sounding a little faint myself. “Sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. I didn’t know you were in the hospital.”

Her pale brow furrowed. “Oh, crap. M’fault. Phone was dead when I got back.” Her words slurred together, either from exhaustion or whatever drugs they were giving her. “Was gonna call you when it charged, but I got sick.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I dragged a chair from the corner and sat down next to her, reaching through the railing to take her hand. “Are you okay? Is it...?”

I trailed off, but Kenzie shook her head. “This is nothing. I just picked up some nasty virus or something while tromping around ‘New York.’ My immune system isn’t that great, so...” She shrugged, but that didn’t stop the guilt that continued to gnaw at me. Kenzie smiled weakly. “I should be out of here in a day or two, at least that’s what the doctors say.”

Relief swept through me. She would be all right. Kenzie would be home soon, and then we could get back to “normal,” or whatever passed for it with me. I wanted to try for normal, give it my best shot at least, and I wanted to do it with her.

I reached out with my other hand and stroked her cheek, feeling her soft skin under my fingers. She closed her eyes, and I asked, “What did your dad say when you came back?”

Her brow furrowed, and she opened her eyes again. “He actually had the gall to be upset that I didn’t call him. He said he had the police looking for me for days, and was angry that I never told him where I was. He never took an interest in my life before. Why bother now?”

“Maybe he was worried about you,” I offered. “Maybe he realized he made a mistake.”