Flightless (Fairy, Texas Book 2)

by Margo Bond Collins

  Anyway, if all my other friends were telling the truth, most of the residents of Fairy, Texas already knew that there was something wonky about some percentage of the town’s inhabitants.

  I wondered idly how many demon-fairies who married humans had told their spouses the truth, and of those, how many had gotten themselves divorced for being crazy.

  In any case, Kayla needed the information. Whatever was going on with me had clearly put her in Creepy Dude’s sights—my dad’s, I thought, then pushed the idea as far out of my mind as I could, given the way it kept popping back up.

  Josh was still angry with me. Regardless, he needed to be in on this decision. For all that he was convinced that his wing loss made him ineligible to lead the People, I didn’t believe that. He would heal someday—maybe not in the way he wished he could, but at least in a way that would make him somewhat whole again.

  Deep in my heart, I knew that Josh was the one to take over when the time came.

  If we were going to help him achieve that, then Mason and I needed to make sure he was on board with letting Kayla in on the secret. Secrets. They seemed to be piling up faster than the lies in my planner.

  I hadn’t expected Mason’s resistance to the idea.

  “No way.” When he brought me home, he had come in to study for a history test with Kayla—at least, that was the excuse they gave their parents. There really was a history test, but I knew that they were likely to spend all night sneaking kisses every chance they got.

  As soon as I heard Kayla leave her room and go to the bathroom, I slipped inside to talk to him. Mason sat on a chair by her desk, a notebook open in front of him. When I broached the idea of telling Kayla who—or rather what—he really was, he balked.

  “Absolutely not.” He shook his head emphatically.

  “Why not? She’s connected to all of us. You. Josh. Hell, I’m her stepsister. Whatever is going on, she’s likely to end up getting hurt if we let her go bumbling around without any information.”

  Mason crossed his arms over his chest. “No. I don’t want anyone else mucking around in her head. If we tell her, someone might decide she didn’t need to know after all and do another mind-wipe.” His voice dropped and he stared down at his shoes. “Something weird happened last time and it left her more confused, disoriented. I don’t want her to get hurt any more than she already is.”

  He was right. Telling her put her in a specific kind of danger. But not telling put her in another kind of danger entirely.

  “But if she’s in on it with us, and we’re the only ones who know she knows, then we can protect her from another mind-wipe, right?”

  “I guess.” Mason’s mouth twisted.

  “Come on, Mace. She needs to know enough to protect herself. If we give her the information, no one else finds out she knows, and we protect her from mind-wipes, she’ll be much safer, all the way around. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  I knew that last question was a mistake before it was all the way out of my mouth.

  Mason barked out a laugh. “After this last year? She thought I dumped her because I didn’t care about her. I couldn’t tell her then that I was doing it to protect her from Bartlef because I knew she wouldn’t accept that. What makes you think it would be any better now?” He shook his head. “And then this year, I let her think that you and I were hooking up. She says she’s okay with it because we were trying to prove that Bartlef killed Cody Murphy. If I told her that everything she believed about me is really a lie, she would never forgive me.”

  “Why not? She forgave you last time. She’s forgiven everything else.” As far as I could tell, there wasn’t much that Kayla wouldn’t forgive Mason.

  He shook his head again, but he flashed that stunning, blinding white grin that had charmed me back when I first met him. “You wouldn’t get it, Harris.”

  I was pretty sure he had taken to calling me by my last name since he and Kayla got back together in order to make sure I stayed firmly in the Friends Only club—it said that we were buddies, nothing more. I was perfectly happy with that, not only because it allowed us to remain friends while he dated Kayla, but because it kept us from ever having to admit something that neither of us had admitted aloud, even to each other: that despite the events of the last few months, despite our feelings for other people, despite our firm belief that we should only ever be friends … there had been something there when Mason and I kissed.

  We were attracted to each other.

  Even if we never acted on it, it was there.

  Calling me Harris allowed him to treat me like one of the guys.

  Fine. I could be like one of his male friends, but I wasn’t going to hold back with him. I had one more weapon in my arsenal. I stared into his eyes intently. “If this mind-wipe doesn’t hold—and I’m not taking bets on it lasting—how will Kayla react when all that knowledge comes flooding back to her? Wouldn’t it be better to tell her now?”

  Mason puffed up his cheeks and blew out a breath, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t want her mixed up in all of this.”

  “It’s too late for that.” I set my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s up to you to keep her safe.”

  “Damn, Harris. You play hardball.” Mason shrugged my hand away. “I’ll think about it.”

  When Kayla came back into the room and saw me leaning against the desk talking to Mason, a flicker of irritation crossed her face, tightening her lips and the skin around her eyes.

  The expression lasted for only a moment, but it gave me all the information I needed. Mason was right. Kayla would be furious if she found out that he wasn’t exactly what he said he was. I was probably right, too—she would almost certainly forgive him—but it wouldn’t be an easy road for them.

  That didn’t change the fact that she needed to know what was going on, if only so she could protect herself.

  “Hey.” I worked to keep my tone even as I greeted her. “I’m going to go try to talk to Josh again tomorrow. I thought it might go easier if Mason went with me.”

  Kayla screwed her mouth up, this time in sympathy. “Still no traction on that?”

  “No.” I wrapped my arms around my midsection, as if I were holding myself together.

  Maybe I am.

  But only barely.

  My stepsister pulled out the second chair by the desk and gestured for me to have a seat, then draped herself across Mason’s lap.

  Very subtle, Step-Sis.

  I didn’t say anything out loud, though. Let her make her claim however she wanted. We really had put her through hell when she thought I might be doing her ex.

  Besides, she was mostly on my side now. I wanted to keep that going as long as possible.

  Come to think of it, I guess I did understand Mason’s desire not to tell Kayla anything that would upset the new status quo. Nonetheless, she needed to know.

  “Want me to go with you?” she asked.

  I blinked, trying to find the thread of the conversation again.

  Oh. Right. Josh.

  “Not unless you have some burning desire to watch me get shot down again.” I unwound my arms from around myself and pushed off from the desk. “Too many of us might overwhelm him. Anyway, I don’t think it will help, but I feel like I ought to be doing something.”

  As I moved out of the room, I glanced back at Mason. “Think about it?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  I really hoped my intuition was wrong, that Kayla’s connection to us would serve to protect her rather than put her in danger. But I knew I was right.

  By the time I reached my own room, I knew I would tell Kayla everything, whether Mason and Josh agreed or not. I didn’t need their permission.

  I would prefer to have their support, though.

  Chapter Six

  Josh

  “You want to tell Kayla all about us?” I didn’t know if I could inject as much scorn into my words as I felt, but I was going to give it my very best.
“And you don’t think she will go tell every single one of her little cheerleader friends?”

  “She didn’t last time she knew,” Laney protested.

  “Yeah, but last time, her little mind apparently couldn’t handle everything, and got all muddled.” I waggled my fingers around my head.

  “Hey, now.” Mason held both arms out, palms down, in a placating motion. “Watch it. I know she’s not perfect, but she’s still my girl.”

  I nodded. My disdain had been more for Laney, anyway—and from the sullen expression on her face, she knew it, too.

  The nala crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me, waiting for my response.

  The hell of it was that she was right. We could do a better job of protecting Kayla if she knew what was really going on—if we didn’t have to sneak off to talk about anything dealing with our other lives. If we didn’t have to be careful not to say something that would remind her of what had happened, what she knew, and set off some chain reaction that caused all her memories to come cascading back.

  Then again, if she wasn’t so closely connected to us, we wouldn’t have to worry so much about her at all. “Maybe you could just break up with her,” I suggested, turning to Mason.

  The idea went over just about as well as I expected it to—as in, not at all. Mason snarled at me and shook his head.

  “I told you this was a bad idea,” he muttered in Laney’s direction.

  “You agreed to it.” She answered Mason without taking her eyes off me.

  Of course it had been Laney’s plan.

  All of the worst plans were.

  “Having Mason break up with her wouldn’t sever all her connections to us,” Laney said pointedly. “She can’t quit being my stepsister—”

  “Even when she wants to,” I interjected.

  Laney glared at me, but she didn’t stop speaking. “—and every time we leave her alone to go have a conference, she’s in danger. The easiest thing to do would be to let her in on it.”

  “No.” I made my voice as hard and final as I could.

  Laney rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t even know why we bothered to try to talk to you about it, anyway. You’re impossible.” Then she turned to Mason. “You ready to get out of here?”

  Mason glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but he trailed Laney out the door.

  I was beginning to think everyone was going to follow Laney’s lead.

  Not that it mattered.

  I wasn’t ever going to be able to lead anyone, anyway. She might as well do it.

  Laney

  As Mason and I walked back toward his truck, he kicked at a rock in the caliche gravel and snarled. When I laughed, he shot an irritated glance my direction. “What’s so funny?”

  I skipped a couple of steps. “That went well.”

  Mason’s mouth fell open, and he stopped in the middle of the road. “You think that went well? Were we even in the same room?”

  “Oh, yes.” I grinned and walked backward until he started moving again. “What do you think happened in there?”

  With a shrug, Mason said, “Josh shot us down.”

  “Precisely.” I waited for him to catch up, both physically and with my thinking.

  “I don’t get it,” he said after a moment.

  Spinning around to walk beside him, I explained. “Josh shot us down, without even thinking about it. He didn’t second-guess himself. He didn’t say one word about being incapable of making decisions for the whole group. He didn’t whine about not being leadership material, or not being able to command others without his wings. He just did it.” I laughed aloud and spun again, this time for the sheer joy of it. “He’s going to be just fine.”

  Mason shook his head, but he was still smiling. “You are more devious than I’d ever guessed.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.” I skipped ahead, then bounded onto the porch, grinning. “Have you thought about how you’re going to tell Kayla?”

  Mason’s eyes grew wide. “But Josh said not to.”

  “So what? Josh says a lot of things. I say Josh needs something to push against, if he’s ever going to heal.”

  Twisting his mouth wryly, Mason followed me onto the porch. “And I get to be the something he pushes against. Great.”

  Serious now, I placed my hand on his arm. “You’re the only one who can, Mason. You know him better than anyone. If he can be pulled out of this funk, you’re the one to do it.”

  “With your guidance?” He flashed his brilliant smile at me—though this time it was tinged with sarcasm.

  I shrugged. “I probably know him second best, at least among his friends.”

  “I’m still not sure this is the best idea you’ve ever had.” Mason cast an anxious glance toward Kayla’s window at the front of the house. “When do you think I should tell her?”

  From the bottom of the drive, I saw the plume of dust that heralded an approaching vehicle.

  “Normally I would say no time like the present, but it looks like we’re about to have some company.” I had no idea who might be driving up to the house from the highway. At this time of day, John, my stepfather, was usually out on the ranch somewhere, in the opposite direction from the road, and Mom was still out of town.

  The car that rounded the bend in the drive was unfamiliar to me—silver and unremarkable, except for its presence here.

  As it drew closer, I saw the driver and cursed in a way Mom might have grounded me for.

  “Who is it?” Mason asked.

  I shook my head. “He says he’s my father, but I’ve got no proof of that.”

  Mason’s eyes grew wide and round. “Your father? I thought he was dead or something.”

  The glance I threw his direction was more than a little irritated. “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess because you never mention him?”

  “And that equals dead in your mind? Why not deadbeat dad?” I knew I was being snippy with my friend, but the idea of Creepy Dude actually being my father gave me a slightly sick feeling at the bottom of my stomach.

  As the car pulled to a stop in the part of the caliche road that curved around in front of John Hamilton’s house, Mason’s gaze flickered between me and the driver of the car, as if trying to find some similarities between us. I saw it in our hair color, but that was about it. Otherwise, I was all Mom.

  That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  Apparently Creepy Dad hadn’t seen any similarities, either, since he had accepted without question the idea that Kayla must be his daughter.

  Now, as he stepped out of the car, he scanned the area, as if looking for Kayla. I knew, of course, that he was looking for ‘Laney,’ but I wasn’t about to correct his mistake. I was fine with her being my decoy until I had more information.

  Still, maybe I should find out what he wanted before I even considered telling him anything.

  “She’s not here.” I preempted anything he might have to say, carefully avoiding speaking my stepsister’s name.

  Just as Creepy Dad opened his mouth to speak, the front door to the house banged open, and my stepfather John Hamilton stepped out. When he spoke, his voice carried more authority than I was used to hearing in it. “Thomas Gunn.”

  Creepy Dad—Gunn, I guess—nodded at my stepfather. “John.”

  The two men stared at one another for a long, tense, silent moment. I half expected some sort of spaghetti-western theme music to start playing in the background while they faced off like two gunslingers in a duel.

  When John took a step forward, Gunn startled, as if he, too, actually expected John to pull out a firearm and start shooting.

  Instead, John moved up to the edge of the porch and crossed one boot over the other as he leaned against a support pole. “Thought I told you to get out of here and never come back.”

  Gunn began to take a matching step forward, but Hamilton’s glare stopped him in his tracks. Instead, he shrugged. “That was more than
seventeen years ago. I was hoping that you might see it in your heart to forgive me.”

  Forgive what? This wasn’t making any sense. How did John know Creepy Dad when I didn’t?

  “Never.” John’s response was terse and to the point.

  “You have no right to keep me from seeing my daughter, or from talking to her.”

  John raised one eyebrow. His position on the porch put him up higher than Gunn, and it was beginning to have a psychological effect on the other man judging by the way Gunn was stepping backward instead of forward.

  Since my move to Fairy, Texas, I had begun noticing things like that. Psychology and tactics—mostly having to do with keeping control of a situation—had a lot to do with who kept the upper hand.

  Some of those tricks could have been useful when I went up against Bartlef.

  Maybe Sarah wouldn’t have died if I’d been able to keep control of the situation.

  I shook off the morbid thought.

  Gunn sneered at my stepfather. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me from seeing her.”

  “Probably not,” John replied mildly. “Especially since she’s standing right there behind you.”

  Gunn had ignored us since John began speaking, but now he spun around and stared. “Where?” he demanded.

  I sighed. I should have known Kayla’s deception would be too good to last. Taking one step forward—but not out of Mason’s reach, just in case I needed to be pulled back quickly—I gave a brief wave with one hand. “Here.”

  I didn’t know if staying close to Mason was for Gunn’s safety, or mine.

  “You? But I thought the blonde girl…” Gunn’s stunned expression made me want to laugh, but I kept a straight face.

  Anyway, the horror in his voice seemed less than flattering.

  “You thought wrong,” I said flatly.

  He stepped closer to me. “Well. Um. Hi, Laney. I’m Thomas Gunn, your father.”

  “So I gathered.” I glanced up at John, who watched impassively from the porch. No help from that quarter, apparently. We all stood in awkward silence for a moment before I finally said, “Is there something I can help you with?”