by Valerie Mars
“Mal?” She leans into my chest. “Please don’t tell me this isn’t your favorite bar anymore.”
I want to cry, but I chuckle. “Not a chance.”
4
Mallory
We don’t linger for long. I wait until I’m sure I won’t be catching the guys, then grab a hug from Clara and take off. She offers to share her cab, but I’d rather hoof it for twenty minutes than make small talk with her and the driver. There’s still plenty of people traveling the streets and a quick jaunt after the junk food and destruction of all my hopes and dreams might set me right.
The transition from warm bar to breezy sidewalk has me wishing for a cloak of my own. Or at least something like the unicorn onesie I bumped into on the way out of the bar. The banana suit would have been cozy. I quicken my pace. If it doesn’t warm me, I’ll at least be home sooner.
It’s good I waited as long as I did, because I reach the apartments in record post-bar jaunt time. I tug on the front door an embarrassingly long time before remembering it’s locked this time of night. Has it really been that long since I went out? Maybe Clara is right. Untangling the side door’s key from the mess in my pocket, I head for the side door located in the alley.
Bill’s still awake. And doing his best to wrap his jaw around an enormous candied apple. I wave. “Happy Halloween, Bill.” The apple muffles his reply. He’s working on the caramel goodness as I pass, making it the first time I’ve done so without hearing a conspiracy theory.
The light of the waxing crescent moon disappears behind the massive apartment buildings. The only light in the long corridor exists by the mercy of the tenants’ windows above. One of those windows, illuminated farther ahead, is Kai’s. If they kindly remain inside, I’ll just cruise on by and enter the side door a few units after. By mid-morning they’ll be gone, and I can add them to the list of things I totally don’t think about before succumbing to Benadryl lullabies.
I step over a hypodermic needle, feeling glad for my boots in the dim walkway. Banana suits don’t come with shoes like that. Thinking back on it, I’ve stepped in worse here before. I locate the flashlight app on my phone. I’d rather avoid spending the last moments of my night scrubbing feces from my footwear. Talk about a cherry on top of a shit sundae.
I continue forward until hearing the swoosh of a patio door. It better not be.
Shit on a biscuit. Of course it is.
I choke the light as Bash strides onto the balcony. Kai’s voice projects from inside. “Can’t we act more civilized?”
Bash shakes his head before flinging something over the railing. It hits the pavement about fifteen feet in front of me, bouncing on impact. “As if it weren’t bad enough knowing the council’s pet is waiting on us, you choose now to be the spoilsport?”
“Wait, Ryland Everhart’s there?”
“Left the surly fuck at the inn. He’s probably conditioning the stick he stores up his arse as we speak.” Kai’s honey-smooth chuckle rings out as Bash turns from the balcony to face him. I take that as my opportunity to keep walking and not get caught eavesdropping a second time. Not that I was trying…this time. “Indulge me this moment of joy and I’ll be a model citizen the remainder of the journey. Deal?”
“Fine, I’ll jump. Let’s get this over with.” Jump? They aren’t about to do parkour, are they?
The increasing intensity of their footfalls answers yes. I take off in a sprint, leaping over whatever they threw. I feel almost parkour midair, myself, but forfeit all finesse when uneven pavement sends me flying. My chest catches my fall, air departing from my lungs with a half-choke, half-wheeze.
I take a moment to make pain’s acquaintance before drawing a breath. Well, I attempt to. Dry squelching meets my demand for oxygen as my diaphragm rebels. I’ve worked on playgrounds long enough to know my body will unfurl best if I sit up.
I rise to my knees and focus on gentle, shallow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. In…and crunch. Someone landed behind me.
I don’t want to see him. I focus on lengthening my breaths. In…out. In…and his cloak rustles. “Mallory?”
I wheeze a barely decipherable “Hi.”
“No. No, no no no no.” His voice crescendos with each successive disavowal. A second set of boots touches ground, heavier. “Bash, you put her back right now,” Kai barks.
“Huh?” The second’s cloak rustles. “Well, that’s unexpected.” I might as well face them. I try to stand, but my legs are lying towers built of jello. Groaning, I collapse to fours.
Kai rushes to my side and kneels. “Take it slow, you’ve had a long fall.”
I sputter between gasps, “Pu—me ba—?” My gut is still clenching.
“Hurry, Bash.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“It was a one and done sort of thing. No more juice left.”
Kai mumbles something dark I can’t make out. “What now?”
“The only way out is through. We’re taking her with us.”
The hell they are! I use Kai to steady myself and stand. I rotate and there’s Bash, his features illuminated by the moon. Wait, the moon? I search behind him, finding no dumpster. The stacks of dwellings meant to be surrounding us are nowhere to be found, and we’re in a field of grass and sky instead.
My stomach tightens. “Did you roofie me?” Bash meets Kai’s eyes, his silence breaking me. “Answer the fucking question. Did you guys drug me? Where the fuck am I?” My heart thrashes in my ears as I realize my vulnerable position.
I spin around on quivering legs, expecting to see Kai with a bag of zip ties or a chloroform-soaked rag. But his hands are empty and raised, palms outward. I throw my rear to the tree line so I can see them both.
Bash adopts Kai’s pose and advances. I flinch. “Stay the fuck back!” He freezes, mouth pursed like he means to speak but hasn’t made up his mind. I clumsily grope my pockets for anything I can use in defense, but I find only lip balm, credit cards, and my phone. My stomach drops like lead.
Their postures could allow me a head start for the woods. If I cover enough ground, I may lose them in the brush or climb a tree…call 911 from there. But knowing my luck, I’d trip again and they’d capture me, but even a perfect run wouldn’t protect me from their physical dominance. Adrenaline and all, I stand no chance against these two. Panic surges within me and I kick into hyperventilation like a little bitch.
The air is so thin. It’s the cleanest I’ve breathed in years, yet it isn’t enough.
“Mallory.” Kai’s voice is monotone as he tries to talk me off the ledge. “Mallory, you need to breathe.” He takes a knee in the grass. “Listen to me. I’m going to answer your questions.” Bash squats low to the ground in my periphery. “I need you to breathe first. Can you do that?”
I deny my muscles the run they’ve been tensing for and work on my breathing. If they’re about to murder me in a cornfield, the least I can do is focus enough to get in a good throat punch or knee to the jimmies. It figures that the only cute guys to pay me attention in years would turn out to be the Ted Bundy type.
“That’s it. First things first. You haven’t been drugged. Everything you’re experiencing right now is 100% sober, save whatever you imbibed at Tap Garden.” He’s right. I don’t feel compromised, but this doesn’t explain the change in environment. “In a nutshell, it’s all Bash’s fault.”
I deliver Bash my sternest mean-mug. “Explain.”
He plucks a blade of grass and smooths it between his fingers. “I take it you were walking between the buildings moments ago?”
“Mhm.”
“Did you happen to see me drop something over the veranda?”
I nod.
“You didn’t see what it was, did you?”
“No. I was in a rush to get inside my building.”
“Ah. So you stepped over it?”
“More of leaped. Get to the point.”
Kai cuts in. “Bash and I aren’t from
Spokane. The object you passed over was a doorway of sorts. It transported you to our current location the moment both feet crossed the threshold.”
They said I’m sober, but I’m not sure they are. I don’t fight the caustic bite in my tone. “Oh, so you’re aliens dressing as men cosplaying as elves now? I appreciate the attention, but can you guys find another audience to practice your act on?” I’m mildly impressed with my sass, all things considered. It’d be great if I could unleash this more often, like when Liam’s stepfather is forty minutes late for pickup. You know, if I’m not murdered in a cornfield three minutes from now.
“Actually, we’re fae,” Bash beams, “and we’re technically from Earth. Just not your Earth. Look at Kai’s ears, love.” They’re definitely high. I bristle upon hearing my kidnapper call me love, but zero in on Kai, my breath catching. These are not the ears I saw on him an hour ago. They’re pointed like those on Bash, except longer and more finely tapered. So much for Aragorn.
I exaggerate a sarcastic golf clap. “So glad he shared the family secret with you.” Kai sighs. He and Bash converse with their eyes, prompting Bash to sprint to the other edge of the clearing. He folds forward and enters a push-up position, lowering until he’s lying flat on his belly in the grass.
I cross my arms and glower at Kai. “What is he doing?”
He gathers his hair into a half-pony. “Giving you space. What’s most important now is we build trust. We’re shorter on time than I’d prefer, so we’re going to try a more direct approach.”
“Like calling the police?”
“Actually, that’s a great idea. Give it a try.”
That’s a weird thing for a kidnapper to say, but alright. I unlock the screen and dial while throwing Kai some major side-eye. When I hit the call button, a notification saying I need to connect to a network appears. Ahhh, classic cornfield service. “All this proves is that you guys had this whole thing premeditated.”
“You’re right. What I’m going to do now is lay down like Bash, but I’ll keep my hands like this.” He wiggles them from his pockets. These guys are whack-jobs. “I know it isn’t rope or anything, but I’m doing my best to make myself less threatening.”
“Well, it ain’t fucking working.”
“I know. Hear me out. I’m going to lie on my face and hands, and I ask that you venture over here and feel these ears for yourself.”
“Weird kink, but okay. Are you guys aware you can pay girls for this?”
His cheeks darken in the moonlight. “No, it isn’t like that. I entered your world with an illusion that disguised my ears. Bash didn’t. Now that we’re here, you’re seeing them as they’ve always been. I mean this in the most scientific, non-erotic way possible: touch my ears.”
My nose wrinkles at the absurdity of this situation. If someone had told me two days ago that Balcony Bae would ask me to touch his ears in a moonlit field, I’d have laughed along and shaved my legs just in case. I’d probably have sooner believed the Ted Bundy bit.
Maybe if I do this, they’ll let me go.
“Lay on your face and expect that your balls will be curb-stomped if you so much as toss your hair.” I aim to sound ruthless, but we both see my hands trembling.
“Do whatever you need to do to prove they aren’t made of plastic,” he says before burying his face in the grass.
I search for Bash on the tree line. He shoots me a thumbs up from the weeds. None of this is right. A part of me is still hoping it’s all a concussion dream and I’ll wake up in the ambulance asking the paramedic what year it is, but here we are. We’re going to touch some ears.
I approach Kai, wishing I hadn’t gone to the balcony today. He’s straight as a board. I close the space between us and hover over him. “Curb-stomp. To the balls,” I remind him. He mumbles his acknowledgement into the earth.
I drop to one knee on his left side, in disbelief I’m actually doing this. His eyes are closed. Does that make it better or worse? I use the flashlight function on my phone once more. Like Bash, the seams are flawless. It’s impossible to discern where his real ear ends and the fake one begins.
Time to rip off this band-aid. The first place I touch is the pointed tip. With my fingertips at first, then between my thumb and index finger. It’s cool in the autumn night, but radiates heat. It’s probably my imagination. Like most ears, it’s velvety soft.
I check for Bash again. Yep, still planking it real.
Despite possessing little desire to continue, I proceed on the basis that Kai hasn’t done anything weird yet. I run a finger from the point to his sideburns. Operating on some of Clara’s looks, this is the first place I would expect a seam. I close in with the light, rubbing my fingernail up and down his stubble. I don’t find any seams or abnormalities in his hair growth.
There’s another place I’ve seen Clara’s seams: an inch or two above her earlobe on the outer edge. I start with the lobe, pinching and testing, but there’s no difference between this lobe and any other I’ve felt. I falter when Kai’s body tenses, but he relaxes and remains still.
“Sorry. Ticklish. Go ahead.”
Using my thumb and forefinger again, I run the length of his ear. Lobe to point, lobe to halfway up the helix, and back. If anything’s there, it’s paper thin. I apply more pressure between my fingers, rubbing the ear between them like I’m separating two layers of napkin. Nothing. I release and take aim with my nails again, scratching lighter than what I would intend—as if he didn’t ask me to do this.
Kai notices my dilemma. “Do what you need to do, Mallory.”
Well, alright. I rake a nail down his ear like it’s a winning scratchcard. I scratch and scratch and scratch, but nothing budges. True to his word, he doesn’t move. Finally, I stretch the pointed tip and start twisting. It triumphs against my efforts and remains firmly attached, its owner sucking air through his teeth.
I saw a guy like this on TV. He’s one of those living Ken dolls with thousands of dollars in plastic surgery who’ll pop up on talk shows now and then. His source of inspiration was Legolas. Tired of prosthetics, he had the cartilage of his ears altered and sewn back together into a point. Maybe Kai is a fanatic, too? I run my thumb all over the cartilage, but it’s smooth and lacks any hint of scar tissue.
“I’m at a loss,” I admit. “Your ears are definitely realistic. How about we take that portal back to Meadowbrook and I’ll believe you?”
Bash shouts from his position. “Is it alright to come back yet?”
“No,” I tell Kai.
He hollers to Bash. “Only if you want your balls crushed!” Laughter echoes across the field, but he remains on the ground.
“The only way to obtain another portal is through the Faerie council, I’m afraid. It’s extremely rare, but I’m positive they’ll get you home if you come with us to the citadel.”
I snicker, muscles close to cramping from the intensity of my eye roll.
“Here’s another. Do you know anything about faerie lore, Mallory?” He looks up at me from the ground.
“The Lord of the Rings is the beginning and end of my folklore, sadly.”
His gaze drifts to the side. “That…that’s almost relevant. Do you remember the scene where Sam and Frodo are dragging Gollum by Elven rope?”
“And he’s ugly crying?” I want to shirk away from anything and everything he’s saying, but he’s got me with the reference. A weakness.
His lips quirk. “Right. It isn’t just that the rope is around his neck, but that the rope burns. Items made by elves will burn a being imbued with darkness like Gollum.”
“Okay…”
“Moving on. Fae have a similar weakness to iron. While most human infrastructure contains iron, we can withstand it as long as the exposure isn’t long-term. Stainless steel, for example, has less iron and may feel similar to what Gollum experienced if tied around our necks.”
“Meaning pure iron is worse?”
“Much worse. The ring around your neck, for example, will
harm me far worse than a kick to the balls.”
“My grandfather’s wedding band?”
“You do realize what it’s cut from, righ—”
“Meteorite.” My grandparents found it at an estate sale in the 1940s. They bought my grandmother’s ring the next day and married two weeks after.
“The Ancient Egyptians associated iron with the heavens and gods. They made iron weapons and jewelry thousands of years before they learned to smelt. Do you know why?”
“Can you hurry up and get to the part where you either prove you’re an alien or murder me in this cornfield?” The verbose male quiets with downcast eyes. “I’m sick of playing show-and-tell.”
I turn to verify Bash is still playing nice. He gives another thumbs up, somehow knowing my intent. Upon swiveling back, I almost fall on my ass. Kai stands before me despite his place in the grass half a second ago. His icy blue eyes absorb the moonlight as he steadies my balance. I shove into his chest, which proves as powerful as tissue paper.
He closes the space between us, hovering his right hand over my chest. “Some meteorites are over 90% iron,” he states before capturing the ring in his palm.
5
Mallory
Kai’s face transforms from determination to unadulterated agony. His shoulders curl forward, lips trembling from how tightly they press together. The gnashing of his teeth forms a voiceless scream. Thunder breaks out from behind me as Bash gallops in.
The tendons in Kai’s neck bulge, yet he hangs on. Bash is hollering as he closes in. “Kai, let go! That’s enough, Kai!” Kai jerks his head in refusal, producing veins that mark the pale of his eyes. His hand is shaking so violently against my chest I’m sure it’ll bruise. I lay a hand over his, my vision blurring.
