One violet eye twitched, the only sign of the fairy’s impatience. “We want ye to come away with us. At once.”
What the hell? “Go where? Like to a safe house or something?” She giggled, trying to stave off the confusion and exhaustion. “You telling me there’s a witness protection program for half fairies threatened by Unseelie fairies?” She doubled over laughing, clenching her stomach.
She laughed alone.
“Many humans would sacrifice their mortal lives to live a single day in the Realm of Fairy.”
Skye sobered and straightened. Annwynn’s words held the chill of rebuke. Probably not a good idea to piss off these creatures. “I’m sure,” Skye said quickly. “But what about Kheelan? He’s in danger too.”
“He knows how to survive. In the time we had together, I taught him well.”
Skye lifted her chin. She wouldn’t let them intimidate her on this point. “I won’t go anywhere without Kheelan.”
“So that’s how it is between ye bairns. The two of ye have an understanding?”
Skye blushed. “No . . . there’s no . . . understanding. I just don’t want him to get hurt.”
Annwynn’s eyes grew darker, until pupil and iris were the same purple-black shade. “We’ll protect Kheelan. Come with us now, it will be over soon.”
Whispering tendrils of energy wound through Skye’s spirit, beckoning her to go with the Fae. Surrender.
She shook her head, trying to chase out the alien thoughts that were not her own. Imagining Kheelan’s intense brown eyes helped her fight off the invasion. She fingered the iron medallion he gave her for protection. “No, I won’t go alone,” Skye cried out in a loud voice.
The pixies faded away. Annwynn’s figure became less solid, looking more like a ghost than a fairy.
“We’ll return for ye,” she whispered. “Very soon.”
Chapter 15
Light and Shadow
Kheelan stared up at the apartment window in astonishment. A kaleidoscope of colors played against the windows. Someone, something, had got to Skye before him. He raced up the stairs and heard the ancient Fae language with it musical lilts and Gaelic-sounding syllables. And . . . he heard Skye’s voice, replying in English to the alien language.
She understood that Old Fairy language.
He’d lived with them all his life and only knew a few dozen words of their secret language. Kheelan paused. Even though he couldn’t make out what she said, Skye didn’t sound agitated, a good sign. Whoever was in there, they must be part of the Seelie Court.
One step from the door he heard Skye’s voice rise in agitation. The lights from the window dimmed and then went out completely. The blackness was total and soundless.
He rapped on the door sharply.
“Skye, open up. It’s me, Kheelan.”
Metal brushed against metal, the chain dropped and the doorknob twisted.
She looked like fire. Her long red hair, as brilliant as the setting sun, stuck out everywhere and she wore red sweatpants and a red sweatshirt. Her eyes were a green flame smoldering in an ashen face. She looked more fairy than human.
“You haven’t left me.” Not waiting for an answer, Kheelan crushed her against his chest, then backed away as his hands came in contact with something stiff and unnatural through her shirt.
“My back was bothering me again so I put on a brace.”
He waved his hand dismissively. Now that he knew she was unharmed, his attention turned to what he’d seen from outside her door.
In the second before Skye flipped on the light switch, he’d seen a trail of phosphorescent streaks, a classic mark pixies leave when they quickly exit the physical world.
“Tell me about your visitors.” He walked through the room and inhaled deeply. The place smelled like a humid funeral parlor. Plants were everywhere.
“Your Annwynn was here.”
“She’s not my anything.” His guts twisted. No doubt about it, the fairies knew who and what Skye was. They didn’t need him anymore. No way would they let her slip from their grasp now.
Freedom. All his careful planning, the element of surprise, all his hope – gone. He sank into the nearest chair and covered his face with his hands. The years ahead stretched out in monotonous bleakness; shifting from one impersonal home to another, performing menial labor punctuated with rounds of dangerous errands for causes not his own, all while being watched by a secession of indifferent Guardians.
Skye’s warm, human hands stroked his hair and then gently uncovered his face. He stared at her kind eyes and his breath caught.
No more Skye.
He tried to smile and failed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.