The Shadow Reader

by Sandy Williams

  “Are you finished yet?” Aren asks.

  I undo my sorry excuse for a knot and restart. “This would be easier if you wouldn’t move.”

  Lorn says something in Fae that I don’t understand. When Aren chuckles, I make the knot exceptionally tight.

  In the end, I give up. I decide it’s better to have no tie than one that’s atrociously looped and crooked.

  “Just forget it,” I say and stuff the blue silk into his pocket. Maybe Paige can fix it later.

  “Thank the Sidhe,” Aren mutters unfastening the top button of his shirt. He looks at Lorn. “You can leave now.”

  Lorn responds with an indulgent smile, then turns to me. “McKenzie, if you should need anything when you return to the Court, please do send a message.” With a wink, he steps back and opens a fissure.

  Shadows dance when the slash of white light disappears. Aren doesn’t give me time to read them. He pulls me toward the gate that leads into the mansion’s gardens. It’s locked. He places his hand over the bolt and flares his magic. The metal glows red from the heat of his touch. Then, with one firm tug, the melted lock falls to the ground.

  When the gate screeches open, he extends his hand. I accept it, but only because I have zero experience walking in high heels.

  “One thing,” he says before I enter the garden. He reaches into his pocket.

  I open my mouth. Close it. I don’t know what to say because the necklace is stunning. The chain is white gold, delicately linked and long enough to put the strand of thirteen diamonds right below my collarbone. The diamonds are smaller on the ends, but about the size of a nickel in the center, and, even on this moonless night, they sparkle like drops of light from a gated-fissure.

  “Why are you giving me jewelry?” I manage after a moment.

  A smile tugs at Aren’s lips. “It’s Kelia’s. She says you can keep it if you send Naito back to her. Otherwise, she’s promised to plant evidence linking its theft to you.”

  Oh, hell. This isn’t like stealing a suit or a dress from some department store. This necklace has to cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Not that I’m worried about Naito. Kyol would never hurt a human, not on purpose, and I’m almost certain I saw him press an anchor-stone into Naito’s palm. I told Kelia this. She just stared at me blankly until I swore I’d make sure he’s okay and that they would be together again. Guess she’s holding me to my oath now, but I don’t need the necklace as a reminder.

  I push Aren’s hands away. “I don’t wear pretty things.”

  “That dress is pretty. I’ve always thought dresses were impractical but this . . .” He lets his fingers trail down my side. “It clings just right. I think I like impractical.”

  He makes sure he brushes my skin when he reaches behind me to fasten the necklace. His breath is warm on my neck. I don’t know if he’s having trouble with the clasp or if he’s lingering on purpose, but my body reacts to his touch. My eyes drift shut.

  “Stop,” I say suddenly. “Aren, stop this.”

  He fastens the clasp and removes his hands. “Stop what?”

  “I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

  “You want to stay with me.” He says it as if it’s fact.

  I shake my head. “It’s your edarratae, Aren. That’s all. It manipulates my emotions, makes me think I want things that aren’t good for me.”

  “I agree.”

  “And it doesn’t matter what you . . .” Wait. “You agree?”

  “Taltrayn’s not good for you.” He moves toward me. I back through the open gate and into the gardens. “The Court’s not good for you. They’ve manipulated you.”

  The earth gives way to my heels. Aren reaches out, taking my arm to keep me balanced. Frustrated, I shake him off.

  “What do you want from me? You want me to refuse to go? You need me to get Lena back and to have any hope of the Court letting Naito go.”

  “I want you to admit I’m not the monster the Court’s made me out to be. Admit that you trust me.”

  “Trust you? Are you kidding me?” I sweep my hair away from my neck and jab a finger at my scar. “You almost killed me!”

  “Humans will hear you if you continue to yell.” He closes the distance between us again. “And I apologized, nalkin-shom. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He runs his fingers through my hair, combing the dark locks back over my scar. “I’m very sorry.”

  “We should get to the reception.” I need to walk, need it so badly I’m shaking. He regrets what he did—I know he does—but I can’t meet his eyes when he looks at me like this. His emotions are too raw, too strong. Too confusing.

  His thumbs slowly move to my pulse. “I wish we’d found you first. Your loyalty to Taltrayn . . . It’s astounding.”

  “Aren—”

  “I know,” he says, taking a step back. “I know.”

  He doesn’t press further. He keeps his distance, staying a foot or two away as we turn and walk through the gardens. The night air cools the heat in my skin. I keep my eyes off Aren and focus instead on the wedding guests who are outside enjoying the weather. I try to watch them without looking like I’m watching. I’m always paranoid when I’m with a fae around humans, even when the fae chooses to be visible. Since 99.9 percent of the population doesn’t have the Sight, most people still won’t be able to see his chaos lusters, but that .1 percent chance still worries me.

  The landscaper who designed this garden could rival King Atroth’s, but instead of being accented by magic, lights shine on bursts of colorful flowers, on meticulously shaped hedges, and the occasional tree or decorative boulder. A string of lights lines both sides of our footpath. The simple tech plays with Aren’s edarratae. Not much. Just enough to draw my attention. I wish I didn’t like looking at him. I wish I wasn’t comfortable by his side.

  A cool mist tickles my skin as we pass a stone fountain. A lion, its mouth open in a roar, plunges through a curtain of water. We walk behind it, heading to the steps that lead to the reception. It’s not until the first notes of music reach our ears that Aren stiffens. He’s still moving forward, but his gait loses some of its confidence.

  “You can wait out here if you want,” I say, climbing the steps, hoping I look somewhat steady and graceful in these damn heels.

  “Would you wait with me?”

  I reach the upper terrace, glance over my shoulder. He’s standing at the base of the stairs, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

  “I have to find Paige, tell the bride and groom congratulations.”

  I’m not sure if Paige will even count this as going to the wedding, especially since we missed the actual ceremony. The reception is supposed to last until midnight but by the looks of some of the guests, they’ve been here for hours, drinking and having a good time. It’s honestly not my fault I’m late, though, and at least I’m here.

  Aren climbs the stairs, his edarratae growing more chaotic with each step he takes.

  “It should only take a few minutes,” I say, hoping he’ll stay behind. I don’t like seeing the lightning this erratic. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He reaches the terrace, gives me a lopsided smile as if nothing’s bothering him. He really shouldn’t go inside, not with the lights, the cell phones, and other tech. The longer he’s exposed to it, the more disoriented he’ll become.

  “We’re meeting Kyol in the garden,” I tell him. “He’s not going to be in here, especially not with Lena.”

  “I don’t want to take that chance.”

  But he’ll take a chance letting the tech mess with him. That makes perfect sense.

  I roll my eyes, turn, and enter the mansion.

  I knew Amy’s wedding was going to be extravagant when I Googled the location. This definitely doesn’t disappoint. The ballroom is beautiful. The interior wall is painted with a mural of cherubim in the clouds while the outer wall is made up entirely of glass, allowing guests to look out over the gardens and fountains. A live ba
nd is playing a cover of a Bryan Adams love song—not the one from Robin Hood—and the dance floor at the foot of the stage is packed with people. I glimpse the bride and groom in the middle of the crowd as I walk the perimeter, scanning the ballroom for Paige.

  Aren stays by my side. He’s careful not to come in contact with the other humans, but me? He brushes against me every chance he gets. I seriously need to relax. This is almost over. I just need to make it through the night.

  “McKenzie,” a familiar voice calls from behind me. “Where the hell have you been?”

  I turn, an apology on my lips, but Paige throws her arms around me before I can say I’m sorry.

  “You call in the dead of night and then you hang up on me? What happened?”

  “I, uh . . .” I didn’t prepare for this, didn’t think about it at all. “I took a trip to see . . .” What’s in Georgia? “Things. And the pay phone cut out.”

  Paige steps back. She clearly doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go for now, choosing instead to turn her attention to Aren, who’s standing quietly at my side, hands once again shoved into his pockets.

  “You’re not Kyol,” she says. Blunt, that’s Paige.

  Something flickers across his face. “No. I’m not.”

  Paige looks at me. “I thought if you brought anyone, you’d bring Kyol.”

  “No. This is Aren. He’s . . . an acquaintance.” I can’t bring myself to say more than that. I should have, though, because Paige is inspecting him with new interest now. I might as well have jumped onto the band’s stage and shouted, “Aren’s available!” into the microphone. Paige is cute and spunky, even in a long, pink satin bridesmaid’s dress. It’s actually not that hideous, and with her blond hair pulled into messy but chic pigtails, she pulls it off.

  Aren doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure he’s even paying attention. He’s looking behind Paige more than at her, scanning the wedding guests, searching for Kyol and Lena, I presume. It’s a waste of effort. If Kyol was alone, he might come in here looking for me, but not with Lena, who I’m sure will probably freak out when she sees the tiny lights lining the garden’s walks.

  “We were just going to tell your sister congratulations, then step outside for a while.”

  Paige rolls her eyes. “Amy’s on the dance floor. Still. She’s been on my case to dance all night.” She focuses on Aren, who I just so brilliantly labeled only an acquaintance, not a love interest or even a friend. “Do you want to dance? It’ll spare you having to meet Bridezilla.”

  He’ll have to take his hands out of his pockets to do that, and one touch between human and fae will send his edarratae into her. Paige won’t see the lightning, but she’ll feel it. She’ll assume the electric tingle is evidence of their chemistry, and since she isn’t anything close to a virgin, she wouldn’t hesitate long before finding a place where they could be alone.

  “He’s germophobic,” I blurt out.

  Paige raises an eyebrow and I wince. That’s what I told her when she and Kyol first met and he refused to shake her hand.

  “Jesus, McKenzie. What do you do, raid OCD support groups or something?”

  This is why people think I’m crazy.

  “It’s just a coincidence,” I say lamely.

  Beside me, Aren relaxes. It’s an odd thing for him to do in the midst of humans and tech. I glance at him, see his expression is just as unstressed as his posture, almost lazy even.

  “He’s here,” he says.

  My gut clenches when I follow his line of sight and see Kyol, dressed in a suit, holding Lena’s hand just inside the open glass doors leading out to the garden. I’m momentarily startled because they look good together. They look like a couple. I never thought that when he stood next to Jacia. Maybe that’s why I never suspected there was something between them. Only a fae as beautiful as Lena can be a match for him, not someone like me, someone who’s plain and human.

  Stop it, McKenzie. He’s here for you.

  Kyol has to be aware I’m standing beside Aren, but his eyes don’t leave the rebel. He’s wearing what I’ve always referred to as his soldier’s face. It’s hard as stone and impossible for most people to read. I can tell he’s uncomfortable, though, being so near to the ballroom’s tech. But he keeps his shoulders straight, his posture confident, almost aggressive. He’d walk through an electronics store without a hitch to his stride if I stood at the opposite end.

  That thought brings a small smile to my lips. A familiar, peaceful warmth settles over me.

  Something unspoken passes between Kyol and Aren before Kyol turns and leads Lena from the ballroom.

  “Who’s the chick?” Paige asks. She’s staring at the departing fae, too.

  “She’s just a girl. I need to talk to them. I’ll be back in a minute. I—” I almost said, “I promise,” but with the way my life’s been going lately, there’s no need to make commitments I might not be able to keep.

  Paige sighs. “I still think you’re better off without him, McKenzie.”

  For the first time, Aren seems to really notice Paige. He gives her one of his sexy, lopsided grins. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Paige raises her eyebrows, giving me a look that says she approves of him. Yeah, well, she doesn’t know a thing about him.

  “We’ll be back.” Aren takes my arm and leads me through the crowd. By the time we step outside, his edarratae are spiraling up my arm.

  Kyol’s not happy about that. He knows how it feels to touch me and how I feel when I’m touched by fae. He’s waiting with Lena at the edge of the lower terrace, a rare scowl breaking through his usually impenetrable expression.

  Aren notices his reaction, too. He stops before we descend the stairs, leans down close to my ear, and whispers, “This could be an interesting evening.”

  I manage not to shiver. “Don’t provoke him.” Aren would lose in a one-on-one match against the sword-master. I’m sure of it.

  He responds with a chuckle.

  My descent down the stone steps would be clumsy and awkward in these heels if Aren wasn’t keeping me steady. I manage to make it all the way down with something resembling grace. We wait for a pair of humans to pass before we walk toward Kyol and Lena. Aren stops me about ten paces away.

  “Are you okay?” Aren asks Lena. She doesn’t look injured, but she doesn’t look good either. She’s not comfortable being around tech, even tech as simple as a string of lights. Of course, part of that discomfort might be because she’s wearing a dress. It’s a pretty dress, low-cut and . . . Wait a second.

  I take a closer look at the familiar chiffon fabric, the soft, pale violet that falls over her slender frame, stopping just an inch above the ground.

  I gape at Kyol. “You gave her my dress.”

  As a hello, my statement lacks much, but it’s my dress and she’s Lena.

  Kyol’s eyes shift to me, soften, and then turn to steel when he looks back at Aren.

  Aren doesn’t hold back, though. He laughs out loud. “I’m going to miss you, my nalkin-shom.”

  The night grows quiet as the music from the ballroom suddenly ends. Someone, a drunk cousin of the bride or groom most likely, takes over the microphone, calling for a toast. The humans in the gardens start to make their way inside. Only one couple lingers. They’re sitting on the fountain lost in deep kisses.

  “Let’s do this,” Kyol says, unlocking a bracelet of silver from around Lena’s wrist.

  Aren squeezes my arm. At first, I don’t think he’s going to let go. I contemplate trying to struggle free, but the couple at the fountain stands. I don’t want to draw their attention.

  “Walk to him,” he says finally.

  I keep an eye on Lena as we start toward each other. She does the same, her expression much more hate-filled than mine. She’s not wearing any shoes. Lucky. I wish I weren’t.

  A woman giggles. I glance toward the fountain in time to see the couple run deeper into the garden instead of to the ballroom. They disappear around a high h
edge, leaving me and the three fae alone.

  “Go,” Aren says the moment they’re out of sight.

  Lena opens a fissure and winks out of this world. Then, suddenly, Aren is back at my side, his arm around my waist.

  “Jorreb,” Kyol growls out. His hand goes to his hip, where, if he were armed, his sword would be hanging.

  “Relax, Taltrayn. If I was going to back out of our deal, I’d have my people take her at the gate. We agreed on a midnight exchange. It’s not yet midnight, and McKenzie has a wedding to attend.”

  Technically, it’s a reception and, technically, Aren has no freaking idea what time it is. The days and nights are longer in the Realm than they are here, and he’s certainly not wearing a watch. It could be after twelve now.

  “What are you doing?” I hiss.

  “I’m being selfish.”

  He’s brave as hell, turning his back on Kyol like this. I peer over my shoulder as Aren leads me toward the mansion. Kyol is right behind us, a predator one second away from springing on his prey.

  “Midnight,” I tell him quickly. “It’s okay. Really.”

  Only a pane of glass separates us from the humans inside, and Kyol knows how much I hate the fae causing scenes in my real life. If he fights Aren now, people will come running. But he doesn’t seem to hear my words. His gaze locks on the back of Aren’s head as he balls his left hand into a fist.

  “Hey, McKenzie,” Paige calls out.

  Kyol freezes. I slowly turn to see her standing at the top of the stairs.

  “You doing all right out here?” she asks, her blue eyes darting between Aren and Kyol. She looks more curious than worried.

  “Um, I’m great,” I say. Aren gives a short chuckle at my side.

  Paige’s lips quirk up. “There’s a guy who wants to meet you, but if you already have two men fighting over you . . .”

  “I’d love to meet him.” I try to pull away from Aren, but he won’t let go.

  “She’s occupied,” he says. He’s angled toward me now, and even though he’s still looking in Paige’s direction, I’m sure he’s aware of the sword-master. He’s not going to change his mind on this.

  I turn back to Kyol. “Midnight. Please?”