The Lost Prince (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #1)

The Lost Prince (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten #1) Page 17

“That was awesome,” she said, weaving around the edge of the mat when I stepped off the floor, breathing hard. “I had no idea you could do…that. Congratulations, you’re a certified badass.”

I felt a warm glow of…something, deep inside. “Thanks,” I muttered, carefully sliding the blades back into their sheaths before laying them gently atop Guro’s bag. It was hard to give them up; I wanted to keep holding them, feeling their perfect weight as they danced through the air. I’d seen Guro practice with his own blades, and he looked so natural with them, as if they were extensions of his arms. I wondered if I’d looked the same out there on the mat, the shining edges coming so close to my body but never touching it. I wondered if Guro would ever let me train with them again.

Our instructor had called the last student to demonstrate knife techniques with him, and he had the audience’s full attention now. Meanwhile, I caught several appreciative gazes directed at Kenzie from my fellow kali students, and felt myself bristle.

“Come on,” I told her, stepping away from the others before Chris could jump in and introduce himself. “I need a soda. Want one?”

She nodded eagerly. Together, we slipped through the crowds, out the doors, and into the hallway, leaving the noise and commotion behind.

I fed two dollars into the vending machine at the end of the hall, choosing a Pepsi for myself, then a Mountain Dew at Kenzie’s request. She smiled her thanks as I tossed it to her, and we leaned against the corridor wall, basking in the silence.

“So,” Kenzie ventured after several heartbeats. She gave me a sideways look. “Care to answer a few questions now?”

I knocked the back of my head against the wall. “Sure,” I muttered, closing my eyes. The girl wouldn’t let me be until we got this thing over with. “Let’s have at it. Though I promise, you’re going to be disappointed by how dull my life really is.”

“I somehow doubt that.” Kenzie’s voice had changed. It was uncertain, now, almost nervous. I frowned, listening to the flipping of notebook paper, then a quiet breath, as if she was steeling herself for something. “First question, then. How long have you been taking kali?”

“Since I was twelve,” I said without moving. “That’s…what…nearly five years now.” Jeez, had it really been that long? I remembered my first class as a shy, quiet kid, holding the rattan stick like it was a poisonous snake, and Guro’s piercing eyes, appraising me.

“Okay. Cool. Second question.” Kenzie hesitated, then said in a calm, clear voice, “What, exactly, is your take on faeries?”

My eyes flew open, and I jerked my head up, banging it against the wall again. My half-empty soda can dropped from my fingers and clanked to the floor, fizzing everywhere. Kenzie blinked and stepped back as I gaped at her, hardly believing what I’d just heard. “What?” I choked out, before I thought better of it, before the defensive walls came slamming down.

“You heard me.” Kenzie regarded me intently, watching my reaction. “Faeries. What do you know about them? What’s your interest in the fey?”

My mind spun. Faeries. Fey. She knew. How she knew, I had no idea. But she couldn’t continue this line of questioning. This had to end, now. Todd was already in trouble because of Them. He might really be gone. The last thing I wanted was for Mackenzie St. James to vanish off the face of the earth because of me. And if I had to be nasty and cruel, so be it. It was better than the alternative.

Drawing myself up, I sneered at her, my voice suddenly ugly, hateful. “Wow, whatever you smoked last night, it must’ve been good.” I curled my lip in a smirk. “Are you even listening to yourself? What kind of screwed-up question is that?”

Kenzie’s eyes hardened. Flipping several pages, she held the notebook out to me, where the words glamour, Unseelie and Seelie Courts were underlined in red. I remembered her standing behind the bleachers when I faced that creepy transparent faery. My stomach went cold.

“I’m a reporter,” Kenzie said, as I tried wrapping my brain around this. “I heard you talking to someone the day Todd disappeared. It wasn’t hard to find the information.” She flipped the notebook shut and stared me down, defiant. “Changelings, Fair Folk, All-Hallow’s Eve, Summer and Winter courts, the Good Neighbors. I learned a lot. And when I called Todd’s house this afternoon, he still wasn’t there.” She pushed her hair back and gave me a worried look. “What’s going on, Ethan? Are you and Todd in some sort of pagan cult? You don’t actually believe in faeries, do you?”

I forced myself to stay calm. At least Kenzie was reacting like a normal person should, with disbelief and concern. Of course she didn’t believe in faeries. Maybe I could scare her away from me for good. “Yes,” I smirked, crossing my arms. “That’s exactly right. I’m in a cult, and we sacrifice goats under the full moon and drink the blood of virgins and babies every month.” She wrinkled her nose, and I took a threatening step forward. “It’s a lot of fun, especially when we bring out the crack and Ouija boards. Wanna join?”

“Very funny, tough guy.” I’d forgotten Kenzie didn’t scare easily. She glared back, stubborn and unmovable as a wall. “What’s really going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“What if I am?” I challenged. “What are you going to do about it? You think you can save me? You think you can publish one of your little stories and everything will be fine? Wake up, Miss Nosy Reporter. The world’s not like that.”

“Quit being a jerkoff, Ethan,” Kenzie snapped, narrowing her eyes. “You’re not really like this, and you’re not as bad as you think you are. I’m only trying to help.”

“No one can help me.” Suddenly, I was tired. I was tired of fighting, tired of forcing myself to be someone I wasn’t. I didn’t want to hurt her, but if she continued down this path, she would only rush headlong into a world that would do its best to tear her apart. And I couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

“Look.” I sighed, slumping against the wall. “I can’t explain it. Just…leave me alone, okay? Please. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“Ethan—”

“Stop asking questions,” I whispered, drawing away. Her eyes followed me, confused and sad, and I hardened my voice. “Stop asking questions, and stay the hell away from me. Or you’re only going to get hurt.”

“Advice you should have followed yourself, Ethan Chase,” a voice hissed out of the darkness.

Chapter Nine

Token to the Nevernever

They were here.

The creepy, transparent fey, floating a few inches off the tile floors, drifting toward us down the hall. Only now there were a whole lot of them, filling the corridor, their bony fingers and shattered wings making soft clicking sounds as they eased closer.

“We told you,” one whispered, regarding me with shiny black eyes, “we told you to forget, to not ask questions, to not interfere. You were warned, and you chose to ignore us. Now, you and your friend will disappear. No one will endanger our lady’s return, not even the mortal kin of the Iron Queen.”

“Ethan?” Kenzie gave me a worried look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ghostly faeries, creeping toward us. She glanced back down the hall, then turned to stare at me again. “What are you looking at? You’re starting to freak me out.”

Backing away, I grabbed Kenzie’s wrist, ignoring her startled yelp, and fled back into the main room.

“Hey!” She tried to yank free as I bashed through the doors, nearly knocking down three students in white gis. “Ow! What the hell are you doing? Let go!”

We were starting to attract attention, despite the noise of battle and sparring, and several parents turned to give me the evil eye. I pulled Kenzie into the corner where I’d left my bag and released her, watching the door we’d just come through. She glared at me, rubbing her wrist. “Next time, a little warning would be nice.” When I didn’t answer, she frowned and dropped her wrist. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to hurl. What’s going on?”

The creepy fey drifted through the door frame, rising over the crowd like skeletal wraiths, black eyes scanning the floor. No one saw them, of course. They flickered, fading from sight for just a second before, as one, their faceted black eyes locked onto me.

I whispered a curse. “Kenzie,” I muttered, as the fey started to float toward us. “We have to get out of here. Will you trust me, just this once, without asking any questions?” She opened her mouth to protest, and I whirled on her frantically. “Please!”

Her jaw snapped shut. Whether it was from the look on my face or something else, she nodded. “Lead the way.”

Shouldering my bag, I fled along the wall with Kenzie right behind me, weaving through students and watching parents, until we reached the back of the dojo. The fire door stood slightly ajar, propped open to let in the cool autumn air, and I lunged toward it.

Just as I hit the metal bar, pushing it open, something struck my arm, sending a flaring pain up my shoulder. I stifled a yell and staggered down the steps, dragging Kenzie with me, seeing the hatchet-face of the faery glaring at me from behind the door.

“Ethan,” Kenzie gasped as I pulled her across the back lot. It had rained again, and the pavement smelled like wet asphalt. Puddles glimmered under the streetlamps, pooling in cracks and potholes, and we splashed our way through the black, oily water.

“Ethan!” Kenzie called again. She sounded frantic, but all my thoughts were on getting to my truck around front. “Oh, my God! Wait a second. Look at your arm!”

I looked back, and my skin crawled. Where the faery had hit me, the entire sleeve of my shirt was soaked with red. I pushed back the sleeve, revealing three long, vivid slashes across my triceps. Blood was starting to trickle down my arm.

“What the hell?” Kenzie gasped, as the pain suddenly hit like a hot knife peeling back my skin. I gritted my teeth and clamped a hand over the wound. “Something tore the crap out of your arm. You need to go to the hospital. Here.” She reached for me, putting a gentle hand on my uninjured shoulder. “Give me your bag.”