I growled a curse and started forward, but when the creature realized Id spotted it, it let out an alarmed buzz and blinked out of sight. Yanking up the window, I peered into the darkness, searching for the slippery little nuisance, but it was gone.
Damn gremlins, I muttered. Stepping back, I glared around my room, making sure everything was in place. I checked my lights, my clock, my computer; they all still worked, much to my relief. The last time a gremlin had been in my room, it had shorted out my laptop, and Id had to spend my own money to get it fixed.
Gremlins were a special type of faery. They were Iron fey, which meant all my precautions and protections from the faery world didnt work on them. Iron didnt faze them, salt barriers didnt keep them out, and horseshoes over doors and windows did nothing. They were so used to the human world, so integrated with metal and science and technology, that the old charms and protection rituals were too outdated to affect them at all. I rarely had problems with Iron fey, but they were everywhere. I guessed even the Iron Queen couldnt keep track of them all.
The Iron Queen. A knot formed in my stomach. Shutting the window, I put my sticks away and dropped into the computer chair. For several minutes, I stared at the very top drawer of my desk, knowing what was inside. Wondering if I should torment myself further by taking it out.
Meghan. Do you even think of us anymore? Id seen my half sister only a few times since shed disappeared from our world nearly twelve years ago. She never stayed long; just a few hours to make sure everyone was okay, and then she was gone again. Before we moved, I could at least count on her to show up for my birthday and holidays. As I got older, those visits grew fewer and fewer. Eventually, shed disappeared altogether.
Leaning forward, I yanked open the drawer. My long-lost older sister was another taboo subject in this household. If I so much as spoke her name, Mom would become depressed for a week. Officially, my sister was dead. Meghan wasnt part of this world anymore; she was one of Them, and we had to pretend she didnt exist.
But that half-breed knew about her. That could be trouble. As if I needed any more, as if being the delinquent, broody, dont-let-your-daughter-date-this-hooligan wasnt enough, now someone knew about my connection to the world of Faery.
Setting my jaw, I slammed the drawer shut and left the room, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic, sullen mess. I was human, and Meghan was gone. No matter what some half-breed faery said, I didnt belong to that world. I was going to stay on this side of the Veil and not worry about what was happening in Faery.
No matter how much it tried to drag me in.
CHAPTER THREE
FAERIES IN THE GYM BAG
Day two.
Of purgatory.
My fight with the school quarterback and my discussion in the principals office hadnt gone unnoticed, of course. Fellow students stared at me in the halls, whispering to their friends, muttering in low undertones. They shied away from me as if I had the plague. Teachers gave me the evil eye, as if worried that I might punch someone in the head or pull a knife, maybe. I didnt care. Maybe Principal Hill had told them what had gone on in his office; maybe hed told them I was a lost cause, because as long as I kept my head down, they ignored me.
Except for Miss Singer, who actually called on me several times during class, making sure I was still paying attention. I answered her questions about Don Quixote in monotones, hoping that would be enough to keep her off my back. She seemed pleasantly surprised that Id read the homework assignment the night before, despite being somewhat distracted by the thoughts of gremlins lurking around my computer. Apparently satisfied that I could listen and stare out the window at the same time, Miss Singer finally left me alone, and I went back to brooding in peace.
At least Kingston and his flunky were absent today, though I did notice Todd in one of my classes, looking smug. He kept glancing at the quarterbacks empty desk, smirking to himself and nodding. It made me nervous, but I swore not to get involved. If the half-breed wanted to screw around with the notoriously fickle Fair Ones, I wasnt going to be there when he got burned.
When the last bell rang, I gathered my backpack and rushed out, hoping to evade a repeat of the day before. I saw Todd as I went out the door, watching me as if he wanted to talk, but I quickly lost myself in the crowded hallway.
At my locker, I stuffed my books and homework into my pack, slammed the doorand came face-to-face with Kenzie St. James.
Hey, tough guy.
Oh, no. What did she want? Probably to tear me a new one about the fight; if she was on the pom squad, Kingston was likely her boyfriend. Depending on which rumor youd heard, I had either sucker-punched the quarterback or Id threatened him in the hallway and had gotten my ass kicked before the teachers pulled us apart. Neither story was flattering, and Id been wondering when someone would give me crap about it. I just hadnt expected it to be her.
I turned to leave, but she smoothly moved around to block my path. Just a second! she insisted, planting herself in front of me. I want to talk to you.
I glared at her, a cold, hostile stare that had given redcaps pause and made a pair of spriggans back down once. Kenzie didnt move, her determined stance never wavering. I slumped in defeat. What? I growled. Come to warn me to leave your boyfriend alone if I know whats good for me?
She frowned. Boyfriend?
The quarterback.
Oh. She snorted, wrinkling her nose. It was kind of cute. Brians not my boyfriend.
No? That was surprising. Id been so sure she was going to rip into me about the fight, maybe threaten to make me sorry if I hurt her precious football star. Why else would this girl want to talk to me?
Kenzie took advantage of my surprise and stepped closer. I swallowed and resisted the urge to step back. Kenzie was shorter than me by several inches, but that fact seemed completely lost on her. Dont worry, tough guy. I dont have a boyfriend waiting to slug you in the bathrooms. Her eyes sparkled. If it comes to that, Ill slug you myself.
I didnt doubt shed try. What do you want? I asked again, more and more perplexed by this strange, cheerful girl.
Im the editor for the school paper, she announced, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And I was hoping you would do me a favor. Every semester, I interview the new students who started late, you know, so people can get to know them better. Id love to do an interview with you, if youre up for it.
For the second time in thirty seconds, I was thrown. Youre an editor?
Well, more of a reporter, really. But since everyone else hates the technical stuff, I do the editing, too.
For the paper?
That is generally what reporters report for, yes.
But I thought I gave myself a mental shake, collecting my scattered thoughts. I saw you with the pom squad, I said, and it was almost an accusation. Kenzies slender eyebrows rose.
And, what? You thought I was a cheerleader? She shrugged. Not my thing, but thank you for thinking so. Heights and I dont really get along very well, and I can barely walk across the gym floor without falling down and bruising myself. Plus, Id have to dye my hair blond, and that would just fry the ends.
I didnt know if she was serious or joking, but I couldnt stay. Look, I have to be somewhere soon, I told her, which wasnt a lie; I had class tonight with my kali instructor, Guro Javier, and if I was late Id have to do fifty pushups and a hundred suicide dashesif he was feeling generous. Guro was serious about punctuality. Can we talk later?
Will you give me that interview?
Okay, yes, fine! I raised a hand in frustration. If it will get you off my back, fine.
She beamed. When?
I dont care.
That didnt faze her. Nothing did, it seemed. Id never met someone who could be so relentlessly cheerful in the face of such blatant jack-assery. Well, do you have a phone number? she continued, sounding suspiciously amused. Or, I could give you mine, if you want. Of course, that means youd actually have to call me. She gave me a dubious look, then shook her head. Hmm, never mind, just give me yours. Something tells me I could tattoo my number on your forehead and you wouldnt remember to call.
Whatever.
As I scribbled the digits on a scrap of paper, I couldnt help but think how weird it was, giving my phone number to a cute girl. Id never done this before and likely never would again. If Kingston knew, if he even saw me talking to her, girlfriend or not, hed probably try to give me a concussion.
Kenzie stepped beside me and stood on tiptoe to peer over my shoulder. Soft, feathery strands of her hair brushed my arm, making my skin prickle and my heart pound. I caught a hint of apple or mint or some kind of sweet fragrance, and for a second forgot what I was writing.
Um. She leaned even closer, one slender finger pointing to the messy black scrawl on the paper. Is this a six or a zero?
Its a six, I rasped, and stepped away, putting some distance between us. Damn, my heart was still pounding. What the hell was that about?
I handed over the paper. Can I go now?
She tucked it into the pocket of her jeans with another grin, though for just a moment she looked disappointed. Dont let me stop you, tough guy. Ill call you later tonight, okay?
Without answering, I stepped around her, and this time, she let me.
Kali was brutal. With the tournament less than a week off, Guro Javier was fanatical about making sure we would give nothing less than our best.
Keep those sticks moving, Ethan, Guro called, watching me and my sparring partner circle each other, a rattan in each hand. I nodded and twirled my sticks, keeping the pattern going while looking for holes in my opponents guard. We wore light padded armor and a helmet so that the sticks wouldnt leave ugly, throbbing welts over bare skin and we could really smack our opponent without seriously injuring him. Thats not to say I didnt come home with nice purple bruises every so oftenbadges of courage, as Guro called them.
My sparring partner lunged. I angled to the side, blocking his strike with one stick while landing three quick blows on his helmet with the other.
Good! Guro called, bringing the round to a close. Ethan, watch your sticks. Dont let them just sit there, keep them moving, keep them flowing, always. Chris, angle out next timedont just back up and let him hit you.
Yes, Guro, we both said, and bowed to each other, ending the match. Backing to the corner, I wrenched off my helmet and let the cool air hit my face. Call me violent and aggressive, but I loved this. The flashing sticks, the racing adrenaline, the solid crack of your weapon hitting a vital spot on someones armor there was no bigger rush in the world. While I was here, I was just another student, learning under Guro Javier. Kali was the only place where I could forget my life and school and the constant, judging stares, and just be myself.
Not to mention, beating on someone with sticks was an awesome way to relieve pent-up aggression.
Good class, everyone, Guro called, motioning us to the front of the room. We bowed to our instructor, touching one stick to our heart and the other to our forehead, as he continued. Remember, the tournament is this Saturday. Those of you participating in the demonstrations, I would like you there early so you can practice and go over the forms and patterns. Also, Ethan he looked at me I need to talk to you before you leave. Class dismissed, everyone. He clapped his hands, and the rest of the group began to disperse, talking excitedly about the tournament and other kali-related things. I stripped off my armor, set it carefully on the mats and waited.
Guro gestured, and I followed him to the corner, gathering up punch mitts and the extra rattan sticks scattered near the wall. After stacking them neatly on the corner shelves, I turned to find Guro watching me with a solemn expression.
Guro Javier wasnt a big guy; in fact, I had an inch or two on him in my bare feet, and I wasnt very tall. I was pretty fit, not huge like a linebacker, but I did work out; Guro was all sinew and lean muscle, and the most graceful person Id ever seen in my life. Even practicing or warming up, he looked like a dancer, twirling his weapons with a speed I had yet to master and feared I never would. And he could strike like a cobra; one minute hed be standing in front of you demonstrating a technique, the next, youd be on the ground, blinking and wondering how you got there. Guros age was hard to tell; he had strands of silver through his short black hair, and laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. He pushed me hard, harder than the others, drilling me with patterns, insisting I get a technique close to perfect before I moved on. It wasnt that he played favorites, but I think he realized that I wanted this more, needed this more, than the other students. This wasnt just a hobby for me. These were skills that might someday save my life.
How is your new school? Guro asked in a matter-of-fact way. I started to shrug but caught myself. I tried very hard not to fall back into old, sullen habits with my instructor. I owed him more than a shrug and a one-syllable answer.
Its fine, Guro.
Getting along with your teachers?
Trying to.
Hmm. Guro idly picked up a rattan and spun it through the air, though his eyes remained distant. He often did that stick twirling when thinking, demonstrating a technique, or even talking to us. It was habit, I guessed; I didnt think he even realized he was doing it.
Ive spoken to your mother, Guro continued calmly, and my stomach twisted. Ive asked her to keep me updated on your progress at school. Shes worried about you, and I cant say I like what Ive heard. The whirling stick paused for a moment, and he looked directly at me. I do not teach kali for violence, Ethan. If I hear youve been in any more fights, or that your grades are slipping, Ill know you need to concentrate more on school than kali practice. Youll be out of the demonstration, is that clear?
I sucked in a breath. Great. Thanks a lot, Mom. Yes, Guro.
He nodded. Youre a good student, Ethan. I want you to succeed in other places, too, yes? Kali isnt everything.
I know, Guro.
The stick started its twirling pattern again, and Guro nodded in dismissal. Then Ill see you on Saturday. Remember, thirty minutes early, at least!
I bowed and retreated to the locker room.
My phone blinked when I pulled it out, indicating a new message, though I didnt recognize the number. Puzzled, I checked voice mail and was greeted by a familiar, overly cheerful voice.