Tithe

by Chani Lynn Feener

  Contents

  Title Page

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Publisher's Acknowledgments

  Books by Chani Lynn Feener

  Copyright

  To Day, Daniel, Dan.

  Prologue

  He knew the sounds of a broken heart, the start of it, quiet, like the slow splinter of cracking glass.

  Music to his ears.

  He was hunting. Not just for a broken heart. No, those were too common, and common meant ordinary. He wouldn’t attach himself to just any human. He needed something better, unique. He needed to win, and he couldn’t do that with the same-old-same-old.

  The Midnight Prince moved unseen through the hospital. He’d been to almost every other hot spot in the country and had been disappointed in each and every one. It was whittling down to the final hour and here he was, still empty-handed.

  A few of his people meandered the halls, passing him and bowing; he paid them little mind. Some of their pastimes disgusted him, but he’d long since accepted that there was nothing he could do about it. Ignoring it was really the only way.

  Instead, he trailed from wing to wing, seeking out viable candidates as he went. He wasn’t very hopeful that he’d actually find one; by this point he’d all but given up. Still, when he turned the corner and saw her, he paused.

  The girl had tear streaks down her cheeks, but she was no longer crying. If he had to guess, he thought she might be around seventeen or eighteen years old. She was beautiful, with wide gray eyes and straight dark brown hair streaked with the vibrant greens of a thick forest canopy, the bold color fluorescing beneath the hospital’s lights.

  A smaller girl, tucked under the protection of her arm, was still in the midst of sobs. They were the heavy kind, the force of them shaking both girls’ bodies with each exhale.

  He was so distracted by their crying that he didn’t notice the Unseelie headed his way.

  But she did.

  He watched as the older girl’s eyes trailed after the Unseelie suspiciously, tracking the creature that was approaching him and as it suddenly turned away and rounded the corner. A thrill rushed through him at his discovery. The girl had the sight.

  After a few moments, he risked glancing back to find the girls huddled even closer. The older one, his one, comforted the other, who he assumed was her younger sister, shoving down her own pain to do so. And there was a lot of pain. He could work with that. Use it, even.

  The Midnight Prince smiled, allowing a sense of relief to wash over him, the first that he’d felt in a while. He’d made the deadline with a little over a year to spare.

  He’d found himself a Heartless.

  “There are Things that go Bump in the Night,” Arden read the spine of the book, far more dramatically than necessary, and smiled. “Long title, but it’s a decent read.”

  “My grandfather went to school here,” the customer standing on the other side of the counter said, as if he needed to explain. “He’s told me stories about the Unseen my whole life.”

  “I can relate. I’m third generation myself.” She scanned the book and bagged it with the rest. “So, word of advice, don’t go looking for anything you don’t actually want to find.”

  He chuckled uncomfortably, took the bag she offered and left without another word.

  “Why are you always doing that?” Tabitha asked, coming out from the storeroom in time to witness the exchange. She dropped a pile of textbooks that needed sorting onto the back counter and began stacking them into three groups.

  “There’s a haunted tour on the college website,” Arden reminded her. “It’s not like I’m saying anything they didn’t already learn when they applied here.”

  “Sure,” Tabby drawled, “only that’s not what freaks them out. They don’t want to believe it. Not really. It’s just supposed to be fun. Then you end up talking about the Unseen with that glint in your eye and—”

  “What glint?” She scrunched up her nose and propped a hip against the edge of the counter.

  Howl Books, the Thornbrooke Community College bookstore, was typically pretty dead around this time of night, so she might have laid it on a little thick when she’d realized that customer had intended to purchase one of the local legends books they kept stocked year round. Still, most students got a kick out of it, and Arden wasn’t above freaking them out a little to make them cautious. Unseelie were dangerous.

  “The stories are easy to disbelieve, is all I’m saying,” Tabby elaborated. “You on the other hand…”

  “You used to believe they existed too.”

  They’d spent every night the summer of seventh grade hunting the woods for faeries, better known to locals as the Unseen. Arden was the only one of them who ever saw anything, however, and for a while that was enough. Then they’d grown older, and Tabby stopped believing in things she couldn’t see with her own two eyes.

  Tabby tucked a strand of sable colored hair behind her ear, clearly about to retort something snippy. Instead, she paused and pointed toward the door a second before the bell above it dinged. “Customer.”

  Arden tried not to let Tabby’s attitude affect her, already knowing her friend’s stance on the whole Unseen matter. It’d been years since they’d been able to talk about Them openly, which left her with no one to confide in. Since her mother’s passing a little over a year ago, Arden had felt very alone. Tabby was the only real friend she allowed herself, but the Unseen were a rift in their friendship.

  Another boy entered the store. She’d never seen him before, and she eyed him curiously as he passed through the aisles.

  His hair was blond, almost platinum under the store’s lighting. She found herself wondering if it was natural or if he’d dyed it. Turning around the corner of a shelf, he glanced up, and for a split second, his deep blue eyes connected with her own. Slipping a book off the shelf in front of him, he walked toward her, his gaze hard, though he also came off a bit weary.

  Arden made sure to smile extra friendly, although she wasn’t sure why she bothered. After all, there was no way they could ever actually be friends.

  She took the book from him and couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her, shaking her head at his immediate frown. “This seems to be today’s best seller. I just sold one to the guy who came in before you.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “New?” She had a thing about silence. As in, she hated it.

  “To the material in that,” he indicated the book, “or to town?”

  She blinked, caught a bit off guard by the full sentence. She’d pegged him as the brooding silent type.

  “Either?” she paused. “Both?”

  “No to the first then, yes to the second. Do you know any good places around here for pizza? That stuff in the dining hall doesn’t cut it.”

  “Oh, it’s disgusting, right?” Tabby suddenly joined in, startling Arden. She had actually forgotten her friend was there.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, taking the offered bag with his book in it. Then he w
aited, glancing between the two of them expectantly before Arden realized what he wanted.

  “Try Tollbooth’s,” she pointed to the left of the street, “down that way. It’ll be on the right. Flashy sign. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks.” He went to the door and left without a backward glance.

  Arden followed him with her eyes until he disappeared around the edge of the building.

  “Wow,” Tabby whistled low, “I haven’t seen you show an interest in someone in a long time.”

  “Shut up.” She tore her gaze from the window. “It’s not like that. There was just something about him…. He’s strange, right?”

  “Girl, everyone around here is.” She stepped closer, tentative. “You do know it’s all right for you to like someone, right? Someone else, I mean.” When Arden tensed she rushed on. “It’s just, I haven’t seen you with anyone in a while, and you aren’t happy, A. Don’t try and tell me otherwise. I know you.”

  “It’s only been a year since my mom,” Arden’s tone was harsher than she would have liked, but she couldn’t help it. “If I seem unhappy that’s why. Not because he’s not here.”

  “I know,” Tabby rested a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry. But he left three months ago. I just don’t want you waiting around for some guy who might not ever come back.”

  “It’s not like that,” she insisted. Because it wasn’t. No matter how much she secretly—or, apparently not so secretly where Tabby was concerned—wished otherwise. “Mavek is just a friend. Besides, blond isn’t really my type. Why don’t you take the new kid?”

  Tabby snorted, shedding the serious air. “He’s cute. Don’t hate me if I do.”

  Her friend winked, and Arden responded by rolling her eyes. Her shift was over in two minutes and she still had a backlog of homework to do for her Gothic Romance class tomorrow. School had only been in session for a week and she was already behind in her reading. She turned to sign out of the computer and was reaching for her cell phone which she’d placed on the counter earlier, when she spotted it.

  A single red velvet cupcake the size of her palm sat dead center on a small white plate. The cream cheese frosting was sprinkled with red, edible glitter and topped with a red candied rose. It hadn’t been there the last time Arden had checked her phone, before the blond had come in. Which meant it’d been left recently.

  Tabby turned from sorting the books just as a grin was splitting across Arden’s face. She spotted the cupcake, and knowing what it meant, let out a lengthy sigh. “All right, fine. Go.” She huffed when Arden began collecting her things in a mad rush. “What was that you were saying about ‘just being friends’?”

  “What was that you were saying about him not coming back?” Arden plucked the candied rose off and popped it into her mouth, relishing the hit of sugar on her tongue.

  “Okay,” Tabby held up a hand, “I admit defeat. No shame here.”

  Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she smacked a kiss on Tabby’s cheek and bolted to the door.

  “Does that mean I can have this?” Tabby called, pointing at the cupcake still sitting on the counter.

  “Go for it!” There’d be plenty more where that came from. Because he was back.

  Mavek was back.

  Arden had unchained her bike from its rack next to the bookstore and was already halfway down the street before she even started to process what was happening. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and she struggled to calm herself, replaying Tabby’s reminder about her and Mavek just being friends over and over again in the hopes that it would help calm her nerves.

  It didn’t.

  Rose Manor was all the way on the other side of town, but Arden barely noticed the chill of the September air or the ancient buildings she passed along the way. The deeper she rode into the west side of Thornbrooke, the more decrepit the houses became.

  This used to be a rich town, over a century ago, but the ghost stories and the fear had driven many to flee in the early 1900s. Old money still lived here within protected, historic facades, but for the most part, the only thing keeping this town alive was the community college. Ivy crawled up the sides of the stone buildings, some neglected and vacant, others still housing families.

  Arden tried not to look as she rode past what had once been her family home, up until her father had lost everything and they’d been forced to give it up. From the corner of her eye she saw that it was at least being maintained, though as far as she knew no one had moved into it yet. Someone had bought it—the only reason her mother had been able to afford the tiny cottage adjacent to Thrush Woods on the opposite side of town—but no one had ever actually come to claim it. Even though it’d been five years.

  The road turned ahead, dipping into the lush overgrown forest. Hawthorne tree branches hung low, scraping across the tops of taller vehicles. Their ashy brown and gray trunks stood like sentries on the sides, both welcoming and warning those who entered. Not many came to this part of town on a regular basis, so the trees and their thorns remained untouched.

  A gust of wind blew strands of her dark brown and green-streaked hair into her face. She’d added the color a while ago and had liked it so much she kept doing it. Even when her mother had expressed her distaste. Loudly.

  The smell of freshly turned soil and decaying leaves filled her lungs with each intake, and she started to feel the cold bite of air at the tips of her fingers and her nose. She’d only worn a thin sweatshirt to work today, thinking that the ride back home was short enough.

  If only she’d known she would be trekking all the way out here, she would have dressed accordingly. But she never knew, because none of the Unseelie ever told her when they were coming back. They simply showed up, reappearing like phantoms in the night. Except they weren’t actually ghosts, not like half the tales told by the elderly suggested.

  Some knew the truth, that they were dark creatures born of the night and of a time long past. The lives of the Unseen were lengthier, their bodies stronger, their abilities more vast.

  But they were not spirits.

  Her muscles burned from all the pedaling, her adrenaline waning as she felt a sudden rush of sleepiness hit her. She shook her head, gulping down more of the chilly air to snap out of her lethargy.

  Arden finally arrived at the street where Rose Manor rested. A sprawling gate of black, twisted wrought iron guarded the driveway. Black iron thorns an inch thick carved their way up the sides of each support column. The gate was already open, swung wide enough that she didn’t need to slow as she passed through.

  The second she entered her heart thumped wildly all over again, and she fought back a smile. She was excited to see him, but she didn’t want to appear overly eager, especially after her conversation with Tabby. “Have some pride,” she muttered under her breath.

  The building itself was made of faded red stone, piled high with steeple roofs and a wide front porch punctuated with pillars of white marble. There was a fountain on the side, visible from the driveway, but she’d never seen it working before. At its center, the statue of a woman holding an upside-down basin was missing an arm and the back of a calf muscle.

  Lights glowed through the windows, the flickering candles telling her that the manor was in fact once more occupied.

  Dropping her bike beside the porch, she raced up the steps two at a time and reached for the silver handle without bothering to knock. It twisted with ease in her hand and she entered, opening her mouth to call out, though there was no need.

  At least five of them moved throughout the parlor, sweeping away dust and collecting spider webs from the corners. As soon as her front foot crossed the threshold they all paused as one, heads swiveling in her direction. It would have been eerie if she hadn’t seen it a million times before.

  These Unseelie were humanoid, although not quite human. If they’d been walking down the street they would have masked their true appearance, but here she got a good look at them without having to peer past the glamour. />
  Two were angular, with long limbs the color of bark and bright red berries strewn through their long black hair. The other three were similar, with thorns protruding from their necks, and were clearly male. When they smiled, they exposed rows of sharp teeth, useful for tearing the flesh from small woodland creatures.

  One of the females lifted a twig-like finger and pointed across the parlor. Her smile remained in place, and her beady black eyes trailed after Arden as she passed.

  They wouldn’t hurt her, so there was nothing to fear.

  Arden crossed the checkered floor, stepping over the black and red squares without looking down; she’d been here before and was used to Rose Manor’s singular decor. Two large oak doors led deeper into the manor and she yanked them open, struggling momentarily against the weight. One of the twig fae chuckled at her, but when she glared over her shoulder at him he inclined his head apologetically.

  She didn’t come across anyone else in the other hall, but caught the trailing sounds of music and laughter. She followed the echoes until she reached the back room where a dozen windows opened to the party taking place outside.

  The immediate backyard had been transformed into a midnight wonderland, with fire lanterns strung between the trees from branch to branch. Candles filled barrels of dark water, moving with the breeze, their bases creating ripples across the water surface. Tables were covered with rich foods, like whole-roasted pigs and chickens. Another had cakes of various sizes, including a large five-layer one painted with blood-red frosting.

  She slowly made her way down the stone porch, stepping out onto the grass, pausing while she searched through the crowd. There were so many of them, more than last time, more than she could bother counting. Like the cakes, they came in all sizes, some more human in appearance than others. All darkly fascinating.

  Violin music played, seemingly coming from every direction at once, and many of the Unseelie danced to the tune, kicking their feet up, twirling around. Farther back, a large bonfire raged, vibrant and glowing against the now inky night.