Rowan Wood Legends Page 5

  My finger hovered over Aylen’s name. I dialed it anyway.

  “Just calling to check that your flight’s on time.” I sounded edgy. I hoped she couldn’t tell.

  “Yes. Just passed security. They made me take everything off. I swear, next time, I’m traveling naked.”

  I smiled, and it strained my lips, but it also helped bring my heart rate back down. Speaking of, neither Ace nor Cruz had shown up. Was the old faerie my new keeper? No. My hand had glowed after he’d showed up, not before.

  I drove fast. Too fast. It took me half the time to get back to Rowan that it had taken me to reach the airport. I drove straight to Holly’s farmhouse, hoping Kajika would be around. Her gray pickup truck—which Kajika drove—was parked in front, and soft light burned in the living room.

  Clutching his new cell phone and the charger, I stepped out of the car and walked over to the front door, which I suspected would be unlocked. Holly had never bothered locking it, and I doubted Kajika would start since locks didn’t keep his enemies out.

  As expected, the door was open.

  “Kajika,” I called out, stepping inside the small foyer.

  No answer.

  “Kajika?” I went into the living room, which was bathed in the pearlescent glow of burning logs. Was he burning rowan wood?

  Light footsteps sounded behind me. I whirled around. Kajika was dripping wet and wore almost as little as he’d worn the night he’d stepped out of his rose petal grave in a loincloth. Tonight, he’d wrapped a towel around his chiseled waist. I tried to keep my eyes averted from the trail of dark hairs that disappeared underneath.

  Water dripped from his black hair and trickled over his muscled shoulders, down pecs carved out of granite. Black swirls of ink were tattooed in his skin—seized gassen. When faeries behaved badly, hunters could confiscate their magic dust. They stored it in the form of tattoos. As I stared at the intricate arabesques, I thought I saw them shift, sparkle.

  “Are the marks moving?”

  “Yes. Gassen thrives underneath our skin.”

  One loop went from black to anthracite to silver and then back to black. “How does it not poison you?” I asked, bringing my gaze back up to his.

  “The Great Spirit made us well.”

  That’s it? That’s the reason? That hunters are well made? “There must be a scientific—”

  “Science and magic coexist like hunters and faeries, but they do not mix. At least, they shouldn’t.”

  Like me? I wanted to ask, but didn’t. Every time we brought up my heritage, we fought. I hadn’t come over to fight.

  “I got you this.” I handed him the phone and charger. “You have unlimited data and national calls.”

  “You bought me a phone?” The tension in his features slackened, and his lips quirked. Almost a smile, which was a feat for Kajika, who seemed to have forgotten how to smile during his two-century-long slumber.

  “I want to be able to reach you when you go out looking for Gwenelda.”

  His eyes sparked in the silvery light of the fire. There was a strange gleam in them that made the air thin in the room. When he took the phone and cable from my hand, his fingers grazed mine, lingering too long. I withdrew my hand first, then dug both my palms into the back pockets of my faded jeans.

  “So you are not coming with me?” he asked.

  “I want to help, but I’m afraid of leaving the cemetery unattended.”

  “The faeries cannot penetrate the circle.”

  “I know…but they can penetrate our house. I’m worried for my father, Kajika.”

  He scrutinized my face for a silent moment. “I understand,” he said before busying himself with finding an outlet. At least he knew how to use my present. Was that also a remnant of Blake’s memory? It still made me sick to think he’d absorbed my best friend’s mind. What made me sicker, though, was knowing Gwenelda had absorbed my mother’s.

  “Did you…find any trace of her?” I asked, as he crouched to plug it in.

  When he stood back up, towel miraculously still in place, he shook his head and a long lock of hair fell into his molten amber eyes. “Not yet.”

  “Have you asked Ace or Cruz if they’ve heard anything?”

  He scrutinized me again and then shook his head. “I’ve had no contact with the faeries. Have you?”

  “No. At least not with Ace and Cruz.”

  “But you’ve had contact with another?”

  I shifted, shuffling from one black boot to the other. I slid my hands out of my back pockets, hooked my fingers through the loops of my jeans instead. “I didn’t have any contact, per se, unless a staring duel is contact.”

  “A staring duel?”

  “I saw a faerie tonight at the airport. When I dropped off my aunt, there was this old man who glowed really brightly.”

  “Old?”

  “Yeah. He had gray hair and lots of wrinkles.”

  Kajika went alarmingly still. Even his breathing seemed to halt. “The elders are coming out of the baseetogan. That is not good.”

  “The elders?”

  “The ancient faeries.”

  “Holly was ancient,” I said.

  “Holly was a bazash. She glowed faintly. If this creature you saw glowed brightly, then he must be a full-blooded baseetogan-dweller.”

  Maybe that was why I’d never noticed Stella or Holly glowing. Because their blood wasn’t pure fae.

  He shoved his hair back. “Describe him in detail, Catori.”

  “Uh. He wore cowboy boots.”

  Kajika huffed. “How tall was he? Did he have any distinct markings?”

  I tried to remember his height. Had he been taller than the travelers passing by him? No. “Average height. I’d say he was in his late sixties.”

  “Catori, give me something I can use.” Kajika all but growled.

  I stopped fidgeting. “He had a white scar on his collarbone. Like a knife scar, but a badly healed one.”

  Kajika’s eyes widened and took on a fierce gleam that rivaled the white flames dancing in the fireplace.

  “What?”

  He shut his eyes.

  “What?” I asked again, staring at his closed lids as though his thoughts would magically materialize on them.

  “I gave him that scar.”

  8

  The Darts

  “A long time ago, I slashed the fae’s throat with an iron blade,” Kajika explained.

  Goose bumps rose and fell in waves across my skin. Even my throat felt coated in them. “Is it…is it Gregor?”

  Kajika’s eyes flew open. “He is worse than Gregor.”

  “Who—”

  “Have I ever told you about Borgo Lief?”

  “The faerie who killed Ishtu?”

  Kajika’s nostrils flared. “Yes. Lyoh Vega’s accomplice.”

  My gaze dropped to his tattoos. One of them contained Borgo’s magic. “He doesn’t have dust, so he’s not too dangerous, right?”

  “He has no dust, yet he dares leave the baseetogan after I rise?” Kajika let out a mocking snort. “He has either lost his mind or believes he can retrieve his magic.”

  “How? By fighting you?”

  “If faeries played fair, I would say yes, but those creatures do not play fair. I fear that if he has shown himself to you, he plans on using you against me.”

  “Me?” I squeaked.

  Kajika stared at the crackling fire. “You resemble Ishtu, Catori.”

  “So?”

  “So he might think I managed to save her, and he has come to finish the job.”

  “People have heard of me up in Neverra. He can’t possibly think I’m Ishtu.”

  “They are not people.”

  I swallowed hard. I wasn’t on the best of terms with the faeries, but still.

  “Burn rowan wood in your chimney, Catori. All night and all day. It will keep them from coming inside.”

  He walked over to the flowery couch, lifted one of the worn yellow cushions, and retrieved something from underneath. He handed me a rolled-up dishrag. Inside, three little white wooden arrows knocked against each other. No thicker than crayons, they were topped with brown feathers on one end and strung up with a metal tip on the other.

  “I do not think you could kill a faerie with them—as your blood is not yet pure iron like mine—but they should immobilize fae long enough for you to get away.”

  The metallic tinge of fear coated my palate. I pinched an arrow, lifted, felt its weight, or lack thereof, twirled it between my fingers. It was smooth and insubstantial, as though made of vapor instead of wood. Had he whittled these the afternoon Holly told me about my family’s history? He’d been felling wood. Back then, I’d thought it was firewood—and perhaps some of it was firewood—but then he’d told me he’d started replenishing his arsenal.

  “I’ll put rowan wood logs in your car. Burn them.” The authority in his voice made me shiver. “We should call Ace.”

  “Didn’t you say he killed Holly?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I bristled. “But you want to ask him for help?”

  “No. I want to know why Borgo has come out.” He sighed, a deep rumbling sigh. “How am I supposed to go hunting for Gwenelda if the faerie is here?”

  I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m a big girl, Kajika, and now I have weapons.”

  “You cannot defend yourself from a faerie.”

  “How weak do you think I—”

  My breath whooshed out of me as Kajika banded my throat with one rock-hard forearm. Instinctively, I elbowed him, but my elbows barely skimmed his bare torso. I tried to shake him off, but his arm tightened, pinning me in place. I swung my foot back but kicked air. One of his hands shot to my hair. Grabbing chunks of it, he tugged hard. My neck cracked as he jerked it backward.

  “Let go!” I croaked.

  And he did. I sputtered and coughed.

  “You are not strong,” Kajika said.

  I touched my throat. Wrapped my palm around it. “You hurt me.” My eyes had grown as soggy as my ego.

  “I’m sorry. My intention was just to prove that you cannot protect yourself.”

  “Teach me, Kajika. Teach me to protect myself.”

  “A blue moon will rise soon. Choose hunter and you will grow strong overnight.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I can become strong without becoming a hunter.”

  “You will never be strong enough if you do not pick.”

  “Teach me!”

  He folded his hands over his bare torso. His chest rose and fell as frantically as my own. Okay, perhaps not as frantically as mine. Not only was I out of breath, I was also increasingly incensed, and rage had the tendency to freeze me up.

  “What if you choose them?” he asked. “Then everything I teach you, you will use against me.”

  I answered him with deafening silence, then turned around and stalked out to my car.

  He followed me in just his stupid towel. “You told me there was doubt in your mind!”

  “Doubt doesn’t mean I’d turn against you! Besides, there is no more doubt in my mind.” I raised my hand, punching the air so he could read the word stamped in my skin. My other hand still clutched the arrows. I debated letting them go, but that would be stupid. Maybe I wasn’t strong like he was, like a fae was, but at least I was armed.

  “You retrieved your car,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I didn’t respond. I just got inside, tossed the arrows on the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut.

  One thing I was quickly learning in this new world of mine was that I had to keep myself safe. I was not a damsel in distress, nor did I want to be. I needed to learn to throw these arrows. Since I lived in Rowan, and not in a dystopian universe, I didn’t see how I could strap a bow to my back without raising eyebrows.

  However, there was a dartboard in Bee’s Place. I’d start there.

  During the first hour, most of my darts either touched the board’s frame or simply knocked against the wall and collapsed onto the floor like plucked feathers. Granted, I was standing as far away from it as possible.

  “Are you training for some championship?” Cass asked.

  I narrowed my eyes, bent my elbow, cocked my hand back, and then let a winged dart fly straight for the ringed board. The steel point lodged itself on the triple ring, vibrating as it settled. I sighed. It was better. Not great, but at least it hit the board. “No.”

  “You’re going to go cross-eyed if you don’t take a break.”

  I kneaded my tired eyes and then turned away from the board. I took in the empty room. When had everyone left? “What time is it?”

  “Close to midnight.”

  “Already?”

  “You mean, finally. I’ve been on my feet all day because the new girl who was supposed to cover lunch never showed.” Cass sighed. Then she inclined her head toward one of the booths against the brick wall. “Have you had dinner yet?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I saved you some food.”

  “Thank you,” I said, moving toward the offering.

  I sat opposite Cass and took a gulp of my soda before realizing it wasn’t a soft drink. It tasted sweet, but also spicy, and definitely had alcohol.

  “I mixed Prosecco with ginger ale and freshly grated ginger.”

  I tried it again, sipping it this time. “It’s really good.”

  “I want to be a mixologist someday.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A cocktail maker. I’d like to open my own bar.”

  “Here in Rowan?”

  “Hell no. In Miami.”

  “Miami?”

  “Yeah. They have such cool beaches down there, and the weather’s always nice—except during hurricane season. Wouldn’t you like to live on a beach?”

  “There’s a beach next to Astra’s.”

  She smiled and then dug into her bowl of fragrant spaghetti. “I meant a warm beach.”

  I stared at Cass for a moment and wondered how she would react if I told her she had a minuscule amount of faerie blood running through her veins. Would she be surprised, ecstatic, mind-blown? Would she want to move to Neverra? Maybe they had beaches up there…

  I wondered if she’d ever felt different. I longed to ask, but my longing was selfish. I wanted an ally in this parallel world. Telling her would endanger her, and I didn’t want to endanger anyone—especially not the girl sitting across from me, who I had always considered my closest friend.

  I bent my head toward my bowl and wrapped some spaghetti around my fork. Tomato sauce sloshed out and sprinkled my T-shirt. “Damn,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll get some soda water. That usually gets stains out.”

  I soaked my napkin in the sparkling water and rubbed the stain forcefully.

  “Who are you angry at?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “You were throwing darts at that board as though it were someone’s head, and now you’re rubbing a hole through your shirt.”

  “Oh.” I set my napkin down and twirled some more spaghetti around my fork. “No one.” I ate quickly and in silence, hoping she wouldn’t ask again. But it was Cass. Cass was persistent. She reminded me of Mom in that way. Maybe that’s why we got along so well.

  Once I’d scraped my plate clean and done away with most of my ginger cocktail, she reiterated her question.

  “I’m angry with Ace.” I could’ve substituted his name for Kajika’s. I took a mouthful of my drink and swished it around my mouth, enjoying the fizzle of the bubbles against my tongue. Once all the bubbles popped, I let the warmed mouthful slide down my throat and settle in my bloodstream.

  “Why?” she asked.

  I set the glass down and twirled it between my fingers. Things were beginning to go marvelously fuzzy in my head. I felt several pounds of anger lighter and several pounds of confidence heavier. “Because he did something. Actually I’m not sure he did anything, but he spoke about doing it, and then it happened, so I assumed he did it, and when I told him this, he got angry with me for thinking it, but wouldn’t you assume that if someone said they were going to do something, and that thing happened, then they’re guilty?”

  “Whoa. Slow down and rewind, because there were a lot of its and somethings in that sentence. What exactly did he do?”

  I stared at the bubbles bursting on the surface. “I can’t tell you,” I said in a raspy voice.

  “Why not?”

  I lifted my eyes to her bright blue ones that eternally played hide-and-seek behind her long bangs.

  “Did he promise you he was single or something?”

  I blinked. “Huh?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I know you guys have been hanging out.”

  I didn’t even bother saying that we weren’t. “How do you know that?”

  “Faith said…she said…oh, forget it.” Cass leaned back in the booth. “Most things my cousin says are lies anyway.”

  “What did Faith say?”

  Cass twisted up her lips. “She said you guys were sleeping together.”

  That sobered me up. “Me and Ace? No way.” I shook my head. “Just no.”

  I must have raised my voice because Cass shushed me. “You’ll wake Bee.”

  I stared at the ceiling. Bee. I shoved Faith’s stupid gossip out of my mind. Gossip shouldn’t rile me up; it shouldn’t even affect me. Gossip was nothing in the scope of things. “How’s she doing?”

  “I find you awfully defensive.”

  “Has Bee been coming down?”

  She leaned forward and plopped both forearms on the table. “Let’s not get off topic.”

  “Yes, let’s.”

  “Cat—”

  “Look, if I were involved with anyone, you’d be the first to know. But right now, I really don’t want a guy. Relationships are too complicated.”

  “You’ve never even had one.”

  “I dated a guy last year,” I said defensively.

  “Robbie? You told me you went on two dates with him. One of which I’m still laughing about.”