DRUID
Secrets of the Fae - Book 2
by Rebecca Kenney
Table of Contents
Chapter 1— Paparazzi
Chapter 2— People
Chapter 3— Young Blood
Chapter 4—Stream
Chapter 5— Friends
Chapter 6— Stressed Out
Chapter 7— Shakedown
Chapter 8— Sugar
Chapter 9— Dance
Chapter 10— Cool Kids
Chapter 11— New Light
Chapter 12— Rumor
Chapter 13— Broken
Chapter 14— Team
Chapter 15— Electricity
Chapter 16— Grenade
Chapter 17—Mountain
Chapter 18— Try
Chapter 19— Awake
Chapter 20—Worry
Chapter 21— Heathens
Chapter 22—Delicate
Chapter 23— Blame
Chapter 24— Unstoppable
Chapter 25— Champion
Chapter 26— Bad Blood
Chapter 27— Out
Chapter 28— Sorry
Chapter 29— Home
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
1
PAPARAZZI
Aislinn
"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" The investigator's voice is cool, crisp. Very British. Her appearance is anything but prim, though; she has purple hair that falls in a straight sheet down one side of her face. On the other side, her hair is shaved to a shadow, showing off several ear and eyebrow and nose piercings. She crosses her legs, her black leather pants creasing.
"How did you find me?" I'm not happy at being disturbed in my favorite coffee shop. I've only just started with the whole coffee thing, and I prefer to give this delicious caramel macchiato my full attention, not share my table with a Fae Council investigator who's probably trying to ruin my life.
"It was tough, let me tell you. You're quite good at those pixie concealment spells now. The thing is, you can't use them to hide when you're on the move. So eventually, we were bound to find each other again." She smiles.
"So you've been following me around, like private detectives, or the paparazzi. What happened to the other guy, Malcolm?"
"Oh, I sent him off. I thought you might be a little chattier with me."
"And what exactly do you want to chat about?"
"Come on, Aislinn. I think you know." She smiles. "You've been stealing powers from other Fae, possibly Life-Stream as well. That concerns us."
"Because you didn't know it was possible."
"That's one reason. Also because it's just not nice, you see."
Not nice? That's an understatement. Apparently she doesn't know that the pixie whose powers I stole is dead because of me. Every time I think about it, I get this heavy, sick, horrible feeling in my stomach. Technically, she's dead because the Far Darrig forced me to kill her. Still, I'm not sure that excuse would get me off the hook with this chick.
"Your name is June, right?" I ask. She nods. "June, what kind of proof do you have that I did any such thing?"
"We know that you used your pixie power to whip everyone into quite the frenzy at a local prom last month. And you also drained a fenodyree of his power of strength. He's quite unhappy about that, by the way. Nearly cost him his job."
"A guy almost lost his job? How sad." I'm being careful to be non-committal, as my boyfriend Zane urged me to do if I ever encountered the investigators again; but inside I cringe. The fenodyree did use his powers for harm, but that doesn't mean I wanted to wreck his life. Not that it was a good life, anyway, judging by the state of his home.
"Also, you transported right in front of me and Malcolm. That's a leprechaun thing."
"Wait, wait." I lower my voice and lean toward her, pretending surprise. "You believe in leprechauns?"
"I saw you do it." She stares at me, like she's trying to figure out why I'm being intentionally dumb about this. "Tell me, did you also take Life-Stream when you were stealing the powers?"
"No," I say. I'm lying and telling the truth at the same time. The pixie I drained, at the Far Darrig's order; but I didn't touch the fenodyree's Life-Stream at all. That hairy fellow will continue to live on, just as long as he would have before I stepped into his disgusting little trailer in Georgia.
June types something into her laptop. Great. She's taking notes. Maybe recording me as well— I'm pretty sure the Fae don't have to follow the typical laws about recording people without their consent.
"We also know that you've been wandering about with the Far Darrig," she says.
"The who?"
"The Far Darrig? Mythical Irish being, wears red all the time, has special powers as well? Voice mimicry, trickery— um, other powers—"
I smile. She doesn't actually know much about him. Probably not much more than I did when I first encountered him.
The only reason the investigators are after him now is that stupid video of him doing karaoke. Not just normal karaoke, but impossibly, magically perfect vocal imitations of famous singers. That, and the red shirt, are the only clues they have that it was him. Plus the word of one very pissed-off fenodyree, who swears that the Far Darrig was there with me when I took his powers.
Which he was, of course. Standing right next to me, bending because the tiny trailer wouldn't fit his tall, lithe frame. Looking like a cover model for a men's magazine, like he always does. Watching me with those silver gray eyes, rimmed in unfairly long, dark lashes.
Stop it, Aislinn.
"I haven't seen the Far Darrig," I say. "And I don't want to. And I have no idea where he is."
And that's true, because after the Far Darrig tried to make me Life-Steal from my boyfriend, I told him to get lost, and apparently he listened. I haven't seen him since that night.
"Why do you want to find him anyway?" I ask. "It's not like you're accusing him of stealing powers or whatever."
"My employers want to talk to him for other reasons," she replies. "That part, I'm afraid, doesn't concern you. Now let me ask you another question— as a Korrigan, you have to Life-Steal from humans or Fae in order to retain your current human form during the daytime, is that correct?"
"Whatever you say."
"Without Life-Stealing, you turn into a horrible demon every day at dawn?" June asks.
"That sounds terrible. That's no way to live." Every bit of it is true. Before I started Life-Stealing, I spent every day in monster form, locked in a dungeon beneath my guardians' house.
But why is she going over this part? If she's on the Fae Council as she says she is, shouldn't she know these things?
Unless there's something else going on. Maybe she lied to me. She could be a reporter. Like a real, human one, trying to crack the secrets of the Fae world.
"You know, your cooperation would make this whole thing a lot easier, for both of us." June is still smiling, but her eyes have hardened. She's getting frustrated.
I shrug. "I'm just a seventeen-year-old girl having coffee. You're the one who came in here and started asking a bunch of weird, crazy questions. Get some help, lady." I pick up my phone and my coffee and walk past her chair.
She stands so quickly I almost crash into her. "I wouldn't be so disrespectful if I were you. The Council isn't something you brush off."
"Okay then. Nice chatting with you," I say, and I breeze out the door of the coffee shop.
Inside, though, I feel
anything but breezy. My stomach is in knots. Who is she, really, and what does she want? I've never heard the Korrigan mention any kind of Fae Council, and the Far Darrig never spoke of them either. As far as I know, with Fae, it's basically just live and let live, and keep your powers concealed so the humans don't shoot you or lock you up.
This whole Council thing makes the world seem a lot bigger, and a lot more restrictive at the same time.
Something else is worrying me, too. She didn't mention anything about the other five Korrigan, the women I used to live with, being witnesses against me to the Council. Those women have all seen me use my powers, and they know I was with the Far Darrig. They would be star witnesses in any case against me; yet June didn't mention them even once.
Is she afraid to go to them, to get their testimonies? She doesn't seem like the type that scares easily. Unless there's another reason she can't talk to them about it.
This is too much thinking for so early in the morning. I need my coffee.
When I'm a good distance away from the coffee shop, I walk behind a dumpster and transport myself to the apartment I share with another Korrigan, Arden. Since she and I left the others, we've been making it just fine on our own, thanks to her hacking skills and the inheritance money my parents left me.
When I appear in the apartment, unspilled coffee in hand, I walk straight to my bathroom. I feel shaky and a little sick from nerves.
Setting my cup on the counter, I lean over the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. I look especially pretty today, with my long, curly red hair cooperating for once, my skin faintly freckled but clear and smooth, and my favorite green halter top complementing my eyes. It was a good day, until that woman showed up.
I wonder if I should call Zane and tell him about it. But he's probably at work; I shouldn't bother him. I'll see him at lunch.
I spend the rest of the morning doing research into local colleges. We live in a college town, with a few other good university options just an hour or two away; so there's a lot to explore. Since I did online homeschool classes my whole life, I don't have the same scores or student life experiences or volunteer hours or anything that other kids my age do. It's becoming a problem. Something I'll have to resolve if I want to go to college.
The Korrigan never really encouraged me that way. I guess they thought I would just keep living with them forever, existing on whatever resources they decided to give me. But the lockups and beatings and the general lack of any kind of affection were too high a price to pay for the security of staying with them.
So I'm on my own now, with Arden. Sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued Arden, with her equally sharp bob and cheekbones. The only one of the other Korrigan who dared defy my grandmother, leader of the Korrigan and formerly Maeve, Warrior Queen of Connacht.
My grandmother lied to me for years about my parents' deaths, about my relationship to her. Arden has tricked me and lied to me, too. So in spite of our friendship now, I keep my guard up. I have to.
If I were to draw it as a diagram, the people I trust would be in one circle— my boyfriend's family, my friends Laurel, Mike, Julio, and Frank; and the people who know what I am would be in another circle— the five Korrigan, the Far Darrig, the investigators, and a couple of Fae.
Right in the center, where those two circles overlap, there's just one person— Zane.
2
PEOPLE
Zane
I've learned one thing in the weeks I've worked at this joint.
People suck.
Always complaining, man. They just never stop.
I mean, there are the normal people, the ones who pick out what they want, and smile and say "Hi" when they come up to the checkout, and pay and say "Thanks" before they walk out the door.
But every day there's some dude, some chick who didn't find what they wanted and they're mad cause we don't have it, or they don't know what's up with the gas pump, or the drink they want is out or tastes funny, or the floor is wet or the counter isn't clean enough— and on and on it goes.
Usually I can see that frown coming, and I can turn it around with a grin and a nice word or two. Hey, people like me. But there's always those people who are plain ole mad at the world, and kindness just makes 'em madder.
I'm lucky to work here though. The pay is good, and the place is brand new and dope-looking— looks more like a space station than a gas station. I can even walk to work from home if I need to.
My boss comes up behind me as I'm ringing up another customer. "Take lunch, Z."
"Yeah, man. Thanks."
I step down and pull out my phone to text Aislinn. "Lunch, baby."
In less than two minutes she's there, walking through the door into the store.
"How does your girlfriend time it so perfectly?" asks Lin. He works the same shifts as me most of the time, and he's watched Aislinn show up right when I go on break, every time.
"Hey, man, we just in sync like that." I grin at him, and he shakes his head.
What he doesn't know is that my girlfriend is a Korrigan, and she has the powers of a leprechaun, a pixie, and something else I can never remember. Which means she's not just hot— she's got mad magic skills. It's a little scary sometimes.
"Hey, baby," I say, squeezing her around the waist. She looks distracted. "What's up?"
"Let's get our food; I'll tell you outside."
We grab drinks and hot dogs and sit outdoors at one of the red metal tables.
"A'right, what's goin' on?"
"Investigator," she says. "This morning, at the coffee shop."
"Oh, no. I thought they'd left you alone."
"Apparently not." She tells me about the conversation. "Isn't that kind of weird? Like, maybe she's not actually from any Fae Council."
"You might be right."
"So how can I find out what she's really up to?"
"Do you have to?"
"Zane, I'm curious. And it could be important."
I sigh and swish my drink around. After I graduated, we spent a week at the beach with my family. It was amazing. No magic stuff, no transporting here and there, no pixie-druid-voodoo whatever. She was just like a normal girlfriend.
Since we been back, though, she's been different. Chill most of the time, but then she'll get real jumpy and nervous.
Like right now, when her eyes follow a man wearing a red windbreaker. She watches him from the minute he gets out of his car till he disappears inside the store.
"It's not him, Aislinn."
She's startled. Didn't know I noticed what she was doing. "No, I know it isn't. It's just weird that the guy's wearing a coat in June, in South Carolina."
This isn't the first time— she does this a lot. Anytime there's a guy wearing red, she notices. Watches. She's says it's because she hates the Red One, the Far Darrig, and everything he put her through. That she's scared he'll come back and bother us.
Except, when she's watching these dudes in red, she doesn't look scared. She looks alert, intense. Almost hungry.
"So what are you gonna do? About the investigators?" I ask.
"I'm going to talk to Arden. I didn't want to tell her about it, but I think I'd better. She'll know if the Fae Council is a real thing."
"Good idea. And now, can we talk about somethin' that's not magic related?"
"Sure, of course." She smiles and leans toward me, her green eyes shining, her red hair catching the sunlight and turning all orangey-gold.
When she looks at me like that, I forget everything else. There's just her.
"You want to go somewhere this weekend?" I ask.
"Somewhere... like where?"
"Asheville. There's like a festival thing, thought it might be cool, if you're down."
"Just the two of us?"
"I thought maybe we'd go with the gang, get a place to stay, you know, girls bunk together, guys together."
"I'm in," she says. "I'll pay for the rooms, okay? Arden can find us a good deal."
I know she's got money n
ow, from her parents. But I don't like her paying for everything.
"I got you for food and drink, though," I say. "We can take my pickup and Frank's car, and the others can help out with the gas."
It's a good plan. The festival's Friday night, and we can stay through Saturday. It'll be good to get away again— out of this city where everything reminds her of what happened before graduation.
3
YOUNG BLOOD
Aislinn
Downtown Asheville is a maze. A twisting, turning, up-one-street-and-down-another, nowhere-to-park-for-free kind of maze. It takes a lot of driving to find spots for Frank and Zane to park the cars.
When we're finally out and walking around, I'm enchanted with the place. There's so much life here, so much action— so many little shops and boutiques and bars and restaurants. And people, all kinds of people. Older couples strolling slowly, parents holding tightly to the hands of eager toddlers, adults with tired after-work eyes, teens and college kids in groups like ours. There's music wafting from every other doorway, and smells of food from every country. The night is dark, over the buildings and in the corners and alleyways, but light shines warm from the restaurant windows and neon-colorful from the bars, and bright white from the streetlamps.
Zane takes my hand. He's just as excited as I am to get out in this city. "Come on, girl! Let's have some fun!"
Of course we can't go into any of the bars. Arden offered to score us fake IDs, but I told her no. Zane's parents would kill him if they knew, and the last thing I want to add to my cocktail of Fae powers is alcohol.
We had to bring Arden along on the trip, though. The only way Zane's parents would agree to an overnight stay was if we had a chaperone. It's funny to me that my centuries-old Korrigan hacker roommate is considered an appropriate chaperone— but I guess to other grownups, she looks like a no-nonsense businesswoman who can keep a few reckless kids well in hand. She didn't come downtown with us though— said she was going to find a little fun of her own, whatever that means.
Druid (Secrets of the Fae Book 2) Page 1
