Rowan Wood Legends Page 4

  From the dark circles under his eyes, I gathered Dad had slept as much as I had. Aylen was wearing too much makeup to tell how her night had been.

  “Cruz is coming over this morning,” Dad said, his chair legs scraping the floor as he tucked himself closer to the table.

  I shifted in my seat so suddenly, my knee knocked into the table. “Cruz?”

  “Yes. To prepare Holly.”

  “Dad, Holly’s not downstairs.” I looked at the golden-brown pancakes. “Kajika came to retrieve her body last night. He said she wanted to be cremated, so he took her to a crematorium.”

  Dad, who was drinking his orange juice, coughed. Juice sputtered out of his mouth, out of his nose. He set his glass down, then wiped his face. “What?”

  I didn’t dare look up.

  “And you let him take her?” he said, voice booming.

  “I—”

  “We didn’t even perform an autopsy!”

  I cringed. “I’m sorry. I tried to stop him.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you wake me?” he yelled.

  Aylen gasped at the severity of my father’s voice. He never raised his voice. Never. Mom had been the disciplinarian, not my father. And he never used curse words.

  “I’m really sorry,” I mumbled.

  For a while, Aylen’s chewing was the only noise in the kitchen.

  “I’m so so disappointed with you.” Dad’s chair legs scraped.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “So am I. So am I.” He shot up to his feet and walked out of the kitchen.

  The stairs creaked under his rapid footsteps. I pressed the heels of my hands into my heated eyes and inhaled a rough breath.

  Aylen seized one of my hands and squeezed. “He’ll calm down quickly.”

  I nodded and then pushed back from the table. I took my plate over to the sink and washed it, using too much dish soap. It bubbled and filled the entire sink with foam. I cleaned the bowl and whisk next, then scrubbed the metal basin and dried it with a kitchen towel until each side was as reflective as a mirror. None of this helped alleviate my gnawing guilt.

  The doorbell pealed, resonating like thunder through the too-quiet house.

  Oh, God. Cruz. Forgetting my hands were wet, I covered my face. “Can you get it, please?” I asked Aylen without turning away from the sink.

  “Sure.” Her footsteps echoed lightly on the floorboards, and then the door groaned as she pulled it open.

  Footsteps resounded on the steps. I turned.

  Dad paused at the bottom of the stairs, his hands stuffed deep inside his pockets. He looked at me but didn’t move, so I shuffled toward him and hugged him.

  He didn’t hug me back, but he sighed. “Come on. Let’s go tell the medical examiner there’s no body to examine.”

  I released him, and even though I really didn’t feel like seeing Cruz, I accompanied Dad to the door.

  The faerie stood on the porch with Aylen, deep in conversation. I caught the word Lily a few times, so I assumed they were discussing his fiancée.

  “Hi,” he said when he saw me. “Hello, Mr. Price.”

  “Hi, Cruz.” They shook hands.

  I didn’t offer to shake his hand. I stayed as far back from him as possible.

  Cruz’s hand traveled over his bare forearm where little welts had formed, like ant bites. They reminded me of the ones on Holly’s arms. Was it contagious?

  “So we actually…” Dad started. “We won’t be needing your services after all.”

  Cruz’s eyebrows peaked. He scratched his arm.

  “Kajika took her to the crematorium last night, and, well”—Dad glanced at me, then glanced away—“she’s been cremated.”

  My arm started prickling. I fired my gaze down, expecting to see a rash, but my skin was perfectly smooth. I deduced it was one of those sympathetic itches, like that time back in middle school when Cass had lice and my scalp itched for a week.

  “I’m sorry you drove all the way out here for nothing, Cruz,” Dad added.

  “It’s no problem,” the faerie said calmly. “I’ll go find Kajika and see what he believes she died of.”

  My attention cartwheeled off my arm and back onto the faerie. “He’s grieving, Cruz. Don’t bother him.”

  Cruz gave me a sharp, sidelong stare, then got back in his gleaming black Maserati. It was the same car he’d driven into Rowan the night Mom had died.

  If only I had a way of contacting Kajika, of warning him of the faerie’s visit. I moved that to the top of my list. Buy a cell phone for the hunter and hope he learns to use it as quickly as he learned to drive a car.

  As he drove away, Dad made a small sound. “Your car’s here, Cat. When did you go get it?”

  I’d forgotten all about my car. “Ace dropped it off when he came by yesterday.”

  “Ace Wood dropped off your car?” Aylen blinked at me.

  “Yeah.” I was about to add that he happened to pass by the impound lot to make sense of a celebrity fetching my car, but I decided I’d lied enough already.

  “How nice is that?” she said really loudly, but then her excitement tempered, and her filled-in eyebrows arched up real high. “I thought you two weren’t even friends.”

  Why did my aunt have to have such a good memory?

  Thankfully, Dad offered to help me with my bags, which put a temporary end to that conversation. He grabbed the keys from the hook by the door and walked down the porch steps. I followed him, praying the bags were still in there. I held my breath until he’d dragged the trunk open.

  My three black nylon bags were sitting right there.

  I exhaled so loudly that Dad turned around and frowned.

  “I thought they might’ve gotten stolen,” I mumbled.

  “Respectable towing companies don’t go around stealing people’s belongings. You should trust people a little more, Cat.”

  Yeah. But which ones, Dad? I obviously didn’t say this out loud. It wasn’t a question he could answer.

  6

  Daughters And Mothers

  After unpacking my stuff, I drove to the mall with Aylen to buy Kajika his cell phone. Of course, I didn’t tell her that. What I told her was that I was craving pizza, and Lombardi’s at the mall made the absolute best slices.

  On our way back into town, Aylen asked if we could stop by Stella’s house. “I’ve called her, like, six times, and she’s not picking up. I just want to say bye.”

  I bit down so hard on my lip I was pretty sure I’d drawn blood. But it beat yelling. Just the mention of Stella’s name made me want to scream. I hated her for stealing my book, for lying to me, for using me, and for the lifelong pretense of friendship when she’d never given a crap about my family. For the first time in my life, I felt sorry for Faith.

  The sky had turned periwinkle by the time we exited the highway toward Rowan. Instead of going left toward the cemetery, I took the road that led past Blake’s old place and drove all the way to the cul-de-sac.

  Stella’s home was a two-story brick house covered with ivy. It was one of the nicer homes in Rowan, with an infinity pool and an ultra-modern pool house, which had become Faith’s when she’d turned fifteen. She used to throw the best parties in that house—something I never admitted to her.

  I walked with Aylen to the front door even though I didn’t think Stella would be home. Sure enough, no one opened the door.

  “Faith told me she wasn’t at the bakery.” Aylen went around the side of the house. “Stella,” she yelled. “Stella!”

  I trailed my aunt around the brick wall, past the stone courtyard with the fancy teak furniture and the outdoor chimney. While Aylen peered through the glass doors that gave onto a spacious beige living room, I backed up to scan the second floor. I half-expected a face to look back at me, but empty space stared back.

  My bet was that Stella was in Neverra.

  With Gregor.

  With my book.

  As we headed back to the car, Faith arrived in hers. She parked her white SUV next to us, car keys swinging from her clenched fist. Her long amber hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail that made her jaw appear wider. I wondered why this detail of her anatomy surprised me. It wasn’t as though I’d never seen her with her hair up, was it?

  As she walked toward us, her blue eyes narrowed to slits. She turned them first on me and then on my aunt. I pretty much hated Stella but was thankful she hadn’t told her daughter about her heritage—even though I wondered why. Was she worried her daughter, being a purer fae, would be stronger than she was, or was she protecting Faith from learning about this parallel world?

  “Mom’s not home, if that’s why you’re here.” Faith’s voice was as tight as her zipped, white puffer coat. The ill-fitting jacket created several creases across her chest, the fabric squashing her breasts. Either it was a very old jacket or Faith had had a boob job back in New York.

  “Do you know where I can find her?” Aylen asked.

  “Timbuktu, maybe.”

  “Timbuktu? Why would she go there?”

  “I said Timbuktu like I could have said the Bahamas. She never tells me where she goes. Never invites me along.”

  “It’s because she’s trying to meet a man, honey, and she doesn’t think taking her daughter along is very healthy.”

  “So basically, Mom is a middle-aged sex tourist? That’s just great.”

  “No. That’s not…”

  Faith turned her back and dug out her keys. Undeterred, my aunt walked around her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Although she didn’t shrug Aylen away, Faith’s back stiffened.

  “Honey, that came out wrong.”

  “You think?”

  “I’ll just wait in the car,” I told them.

  I had enough drama
in my life; I really didn’t need to add any more. Plus Faith was a force to be reckoned with if she thought you were eavesdropping or meddling. I’d been there, done that—I’d saved her from choking on a piece of meat once. Instead of thanking me, she accused me of bruising her ribcage. A teeny, evil part of me regretted interfering with Mother Nature. Did that make me an awful human being? Probably. More awful than Faith? Probably not.

  I got back into the Honda and opened the packet containing the new sim card and phone I’d bought Kajika. As I powered up the phone and slid the card inside, something pinged in Aylen’s bag. I imagined it was one of her daughters trying to reach her. When it pinged again, I laid the hunter’s phone on my lap and dug Aylen’s out.

  What if Stella was the person texting my aunt?

  No such luck. It was one of my aunt’s friends. She’d sent a picture of herself with a huge margarita captioned, OMG this is the bomb of all tequila bombs. My finger must have touched the screen, because I was prompted for Aylen’s six-digit passcode. Curious to see how security savvy my aunt was, I punched in her birthday. Surprise, surprise, it was her password.

  It took me straight to their message thread. I was about to click off the phone when I saw the picture she’d taken with Ace at the top of the thread. I was surprised he showed up in it. Ace is not a vampire, I reminded myself. He’s not undead. He wasn’t even dead. I wondered if Kajika would show up in a picture. The thought chilled me down to my very core.

  I refocused on the picture. Ace didn’t glow. Note to self: faerie fire doesn’t show up on film. I glanced through the passenger window. Faith and Aylen were still speaking. From the tension skewing Aylen’s features, I imagined Faith was listing all of Stella’s horrid deeds. Again, I felt a twinge of pity for my nemesis. My mother had been everything a mother should be: caring, generous, honest, warm.

  Faith’s voice rose. She shouted something to my aunt. Something about not understanding anything. Aylen backed away. I stashed the phone back into her bag just as she flung the car door open.

  “So what did your friends think about that picture you took with Ace?” I asked, to get her mind off Faith.

  She huffed as she clicked her seatbelt on. “They were jealous I got to meet him. He rarely poses for pictures,” she grumbled. I knew her lack of excitement had everything to do with her conversation with Faith and nothing to do with her photo-op with Ace.

  “Can you show it to me?” I asked, pulling away from the curb.

  She nodded. Her breathing was evening out. She punched in her code and brought up the picture.

  “You shouldn’t put your birthday as your password, Aylen.”

  “I know, but I have such crap memory that I might forget any other password.”

  I glanced at the screen.

  She swiped her finger to the right to the next picture. “I forgot to send you this one!” It was a shot of her and Dad at the lake. They must have taken it while I was in Boston. Dad was smiling. He might think Aylen was a handful, but at least she was a pleasant handful. Suddenly, she sighed and started typing.

  “Everything okay?” I asked her.

  “Sati wants to go to the mall with her friends this weekend, but she doesn’t want her sister to come. What am I supposed to do?”

  I didn’t say anything, because one, I didn’t think she actually wanted my advice, and two, I honestly didn’t know the answer. “Did Mom complain about me a lot?” I asked instead.

  “Your mother loved you way too much to complain about you. You were her perfect child.”

  Like a single mint leaf could flavor a jug of water, my mother’s love for me had colored her impression of me. She’d thought I was perfect… Mom was blind. Blinded by love.

  We picked up Aylen’s bags at home, then set out for the airport. During the drive, Aylen told me stories of them as kids. Well, when Aylen was a kid and Mom was a teenager. They had a seven-year age gap so Aylen’s earliest memories started when Mom was thirteen. She told me about the first time Mom had her period. How jealous she’d been. So Mom had given her a maxi-pad, and Aylen had worn it. “Nova was the best sister.” She knuckled a tear out of her eyes. “You know, once she took me to a bonfire party on the beach. She wasn’t supposed to bring me, but she was on babysitting duty and didn’t want to miss out. Nova must have drank a lot that night, because at some point, she saw Astra locking up the bakery and asked her what she’d put on her skin.”

  I frowned. “What she’d put on her skin?”

  “Nova said she glowed.”

  I swallowed so fast I choked on my saliva, which turned into a coughing fit.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “What did Astra say?”

  “She asked Nova how many beers she’d had.” Aylen grinned. “Nova was so scared that Astra would tell Mom…”

  As I pulled into the kiss-and-fly lane to drop Aylen off, my throat clenched and unclenched. I pulled her suitcase out of the trunk and rolled it toward her. We hugged. She made me swear to send her news and to let her know if I needed her again.

  “Try to come and see me in Arizona, okay?”

  I nodded as she pulled me against her for one more hug. She smelled like angelica blossoms and sun-warmed raspberries—Grandma Woni’s favorite jam combination. Aylen gave me one last kiss and then turned toward the busy terminal and walked inside. I was about to get back in my car when the glow of inhuman skin caught my eye.

  A faerie stood by the airport entrance. One I had never seen before. And it—he—was staring straight back at me.

  7

  The Arrows

  The faerie glowed so bright I checked around him to see if anyone noticed. How could they not? The man was a human inferno, his own star. Silver hair was parted to the side and combed neatly. I suspected he’d either chosen to live outside of Neverra like Holly—outside of the baseetogan, faeries aged at human speed; inside, they lived five times longer—or he was really old. Could it be Gregor? Was Gregor in his seventies? Did he have a white scar running the length of his collarbone? What could have created such a ragged, caterpillar-like scar? Not a knife. Or if it was a knife, it had one dull blade.

  He shifted, and my gaze darted down to his boots. I expected them to hover. What I didn’t expect was for them to be fashioned from brown crocodile hide. It struck me as weird attire for a faerie…but what did I know of fae fashion? Lily was always super stylish, and Cruz and Ace both dressed like normal human boys—albeit wealthy ones—with clothes that fit so perfectly they could’ve been woven from magic.

  I took a step back, as though adding a few inches between us would save me from a possible attack. He didn’t move, didn’t crouch, didn’t levitate…he did nothing to lead me to believe he wanted to pounce on me. And yet there was something strange in the way he watched me. I touched my collarbone, wishing my fingers would meet cold metal, but I hadn’t put on the opal necklace Gwenelda had given me. Which meant he could probably sense what I was… Well, half of what I was.

  I’d worn the necklace only a handful of times because sporting it felt like picking sides. As things stood now, the only person I truly trusted was Kajika. There were big fat question marks after everyone else’s name. Gwen? Ace? Cruz? Lily? Stella?

  A car horn blared behind me. I jumped, and my hand exploded with the searing brand at the same time as my heart threatened to derail. How long had I been standing there, observing the faerie? I looked at the car behind mine, raised an open palm to apologize to the driver, and retreated to my vehicle. When I looked back toward the terminal, the faerie was gone.

  All at once rigid and shivering, I sat behind the wheel of my car and drew my cell phone out of the cup holder. My hand shook so wildly that I had trouble finding the contact icon on my screen. I shouldn’t be typing and driving, especially in a crowded area, but I needed to call Aylen, needed to tell her not to speak with… What would I tell her exactly? Watch out for the old man dressed in jeans and alligator boots? Besides, she was wearing her opal ring. He wouldn’t know the hunter potential lurking beneath her skin.

  Unless he knew who her ancestors were already.

  Our family was not unknown to the fae, even though our mixed origin was. Fae sensed we were different, but they thought it was because our hunter magic had been diluted with human blood. They weren’t aware that Taeewa, the last hunter, had married the daughter of the bazash who’d grown the magical roses that conserved the hibernating hunters’ bodies.