by Carrie Jones
She nods. "He did. But he liked the warmth more, like you. You two are a lot alike. Always liking it warm. Always having your causes."
"I wrote my first Amnesty letters with him."
"I know."
"You really think we're alike, even though we aren't related?" I reach around my body with my left hand to open the door. It jostles my broken right arm and I cringe.
"Blood isn't always the strongest link," she says, hopping out of the truck. "Let me help you with that door."
She puts her arm around my waist and we hobble through the snow together.
"Did you know my biological father?" I ask her.
"I never met him," she says. "I doubt he'd still be alive if I did."
We make it to the porch and through the door and then she settles me on the couch, fussing the entire time. She makes me chicken noodle soup, which for Gram, the non-cooker, is a really big deal.
Nick smashes through the front door, swinging it so wide that it smashes into the wall by the stairway.
He cringes. "Oops."
"It's okay," I say. "It's just a wall."
He has an armload of irises and daisies and tulips and he presents them to me. "I didn't know what kind of flowers you like."
"I like all of them."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He tries to hand them to me, but then remembers the cast. "I'll put them in water."
Betty swoops in the room ridiculously fast and she grabs the flowers out of Nick's hands. "I'll take care of them. You lovebirds just sit on the couch and think swooning things at each other."
"Gram!" I try to scold her but she just laughs and heads to the kitchen. "I love her, but she's embarrassing."
Nick nods and pulls me down onto the couch with him. I nestle into his side.
"It's good to have you home again," he whispers.
"Yeah," I whisper back. I can see Gram bustling around in the kitchen, humming and cutting the ends off of flower stems. "It's funny to think of this as home."
"But you do?" he says, and he seems to be smelling my hair.
"Yeah, I do."
His breath touches my hair. I can feel it there, light but solid. I take in a deep breath and then say, "I've been thinking, and I've got a plan."
He sucks in air. His entire chest moves. "A plan?" I turn to face Nick so I can study his reaction. His face is calm and still. I say, "To find Jay and the Beardsley boy. To capture the pixie king."
"Well," Betty bustles in. Two tulips dangle from her hands. "Let's hear it."
Mick's out patrolling the edge of the woods and after a half hour or so, Issie and Devyn come over.
"We thought you were a goner," Issie blurts, bouncing up and down. "I am so happy you aren't dead."
"Yeah, I'm still here." I nod. "I called my mom from the hospital yesterday. She didn't answer all my questions, but she promised she would when she got here."
"She's coming?" Devyn asks. He settles his chair by the couch. Issie plops next to him on the floor, looking up at us while we talk.
"She tried to get a flight, but they were all delayed and canceled. So she's driving," I say.
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Devyn asks.
"At first I did… now I don't."
"Because…," Issie prompts.
"Because I think she's really the one in danger, not me, at least when it comes to the pixie king guy. I think I'm just the bait."
"The bait," Devyn says, deadpan serious like it's all suddenly making sense.
"Think about it. For almost seventeen years my mom hasn't come back here. Why?"
"It's cold," Devyn says.
"It's creepy," Issie adds.
"That's not good enough. Not with my grandmother here," I explain.
Issie looks around "Where is the ol' grandma?"
"Patrolling around outside," I say. "Okay. Wait. What was my point? Okay. My point is that my mom hasn't come back because she's been afraid to come back. She's been hiding from the pixies. But why?"
"Good question," Nick says, coming in the front door.
"Dude." lssie raises her eyebrows. "You don't even knock anymore, do you? How rude is that?"
"It's not rude. Is it rude?" Nick looks at me as lssie starts giggling and chantingrude dude, rude dude.
"Kind of, but I'll forgive you. You're interrupting, though." I pat the couch. He sits next to me. "So, my mom lived with my dad, this were guy, and weres are some of the only things that can fight pixies. But then my dad dies. He dies right when he sees the pixie king outside our window. He dies right when we need him the most."
'"That sucks," lssie says. "lssie…," Devyn warns.
"What? It does." She looks at me. "So, your mom sends you here so Betty can protect you."
"Right," I say, plucking at the string around my finger, "or to get me out of the way because she's afraid the pixie king will use me to get to her. Which he has. She didn't think ahead far enough. She sent me here, right where the pixie guy lives, and then she comes after me here, to this place where he's the most powerful."
Devyn scratches his ear. "What I can't figure out is why the pixies are here in the first place. Why here?
Why Bedford?"
Gram opens the door and comes into the living room, a big wet stain on the front of her flannel shirt. We all stop talking.
"Why don't you tell us, Gram," I say.
She pulls off her wool hat. "Tell you what?"
"Why there's so many pixies here."
"They've been up here a while. It's remote."
"Because of the iron?" I ask. "Is it because in cities the buildings are made of steel?"
"There's that. The rest of the world didn't care much when cows disappeared, didn't notice when boys disappeared," she says. "Especially before the Internet and satellite news. The rest of the world is not interested in what happens in a tiny Maine town east of nowhere. But times changed. Even the last time, the pixies had to be more careful. The state newspapers got wind of the boys disappearing."
"Why did the pixies care?" Nick asks.
She leans against the banister of the staircase, not really entering the room. "I don't think the pixie king likes taking the boys. But he has to. It's a need. He can't resist."
"So why don't people just kill him?" I want to know.
"First, not everyone knows about him. Mot even all the weres around here know. But there'd just be another one to replace him, and that one might not be quite so troubled by his needs." She gives each of us a focused look. "Do you know what I mean?"
Issie shudders and grabs on to Devyn's arm.
She continues, yanking her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten things out. "The pixie king only maintains control through power. When he's weak he loses control. Some pixies like that Ian or Megan try to take over. To do that, they have to find their own queen."
"So why Zara? Why did Ian want her?" Devyn asks. He leans forward, fingers twitching like he wants to take notes.
"I think it's because she has some pixie genes already. We already know that her mother attracts them and maybe-" "What do you mean some genes?" Nick interrupts.
"Because of who her father is."
I try to get off the couch, but Nick's hand holds me in place. "Her father is the…"
Betty's eyes flash. "You didn't tell them?"
My stomach falls into a broken place, acting just like my arm.
"Her biological father is the pixie king," Betty finishes.
Mick is the first one to react. He jumps up, his mouth wide open. He basically shouts in Betty's face.
"You always knew this?"
She nods.
His hands clench into fists. He turns on me. "So Zara's part pixie?"
"I don't know how the genes work, Nick," Betty explains. "It's not like we've done a full genetic rundown on her. She seems normal."
"I seem normal?" I mutter.
"But she's prettier than normal," lssie says.
"And she's a
fast runner," Devyn adds.
"But not supernaturally fast," Gram explains as Nick stomps around the room "Nick Colt, would you just calm down? Steam is coming out your ears."
"Zara's part pixie!" he yells. His eyes flash, full of menace. "She can't be part pixie."
"Are you listening to a thing I'm saying?" Gram asks, and her face is far from happy or patient. "Her father is a pixie. That does not mean that she exhibits any pixie tendencies."
"She's a freaking pixie!" Nick yells. He looks at me like he's never seen me before and he doesn't like what he sees at all. "Jesus!"
He storms across the room and slams the door. It sends shock waves through my heart.
"Nick!" lssie yells, leaping up after him.
"He's such a wolf sometimes." Gram shakes her head. "Leave him be."
The tires of the MINI squeal. Something inside me scrunches up and heavies.
"We have to go after him," Devyn says. "He's dangerous when he's like this. Sometimes he turns."
He starts wheeling across the living room floor. lssie starts after him and then runs back to me. She throws her tiny arms around my shoulder, jostling my broken arm. "It's okay, Zara. Even if you were a hundred percent pixie, you'd still be Zara."
Tears spring out of my eyes. My throat closes up.
"He won't be stubborn forever," she says and then lets go of me, running out the door after Devyn.
Gram and I sit there for a while. I'm on the couch. She's sprawled across the big red chair.
"So much for the plan," I say. I lower my voice to a whisper, "How are we going to catch the king without Devyn and Nick?"
I'm supposed to be the bait. He's supposed to think I'm alone. Then when he brings me outside Betty and Nick will attack. They're at an advantage outside. Devyn will be the lookout. Then we'll force him to tell us where Jay is. We know he's going to come for me because he wants to use me for bait: bait to get my mom back.
"You want to bail?" Gram eyes me. I eye her.
"No. You're tough enough to take down a pixie king all by yourself, aren't you?"
"I'm tough enough to take down an entire army of those damn kings. You okay?" she asks.
I shrug and wipe at my eyes with the back of my good hand.
"I wish someone had told me all this a little earlier," I manage. "Like when I was nine or something."
She strides over and sits on the couch with me. "Ah, c'mon. We've only made a couple hundred mistakes. But you're in charge now. I think things'll get better."
She gives me a tiny fake punch on my thigh and then gives in to the grammy in her and hugs me close.
She smells like the forest and wood fires. She smells safe. I lean in and cry.
"You think he'll hate me forever?"
"He's a fool if he does."
I sniff. "That doesn't help."
"You should have seen your father when he found out about your mother," she says. "He was out of his mind."
"So why?"
"Why what?"
"Why'd she do it?"
"She was trying to save the boys."
"Huh?"
"Your mom's a little like Nick. She has a hero complex. She just hides it better. Do you know what turned Nick on to the pixies in the first place? Not that he knew exactly what they were."
I don't answer.
"Well, Devyn was out crashing around the woods, running cross-country, when an arrow hit him, right in the spine. He screamed and fell. It hit him in the perfect place to paralyze him. Nick heard him scream and raced to where he was. He carried him to the road, but neither of them had figured out what it was that did that. It wasn't until you got here and saw the king outside the cafeteria that they all started putting it together."
"Oh my God. What did the police do?"
"They figured it was a hunter going after a coyote. They saw Nick's tracks, but pixies don't leave footprints."
"Yep." I swallow hard. "That's so weird. This is all so weird."
"So, anyway, that's what turned him on to the fact that something was happening. All of a sudden he wanted to be this were knight, protecting the world. He's always out patrolling, every lunch break, every study hall, every cross-country practice. The fact that they've taken two more boys… It's killing him."
I nod. "But what about my mom?"
"The only thing that stops the pixie king's need is his queen. He's been too long without her. It's flaring up again."
The fire crackles. We both jump. Jumping is not part of the plan.
"So she had sex with him to get him to stop taking the boys."
Betty just squeezes her arm around my shoulders a little tighter. "Yep."
"Oh my God. So I'm basically the child of a rape?"
"She was willing. She consented."
"Because she had to!"
"She chose to save those boys, Zara. She was brave. Maybe stupid, but brave."
"But now it's starting all over again."
"His need has returned."
I think about it. "When is she going to get here?"
"Tonight. Around seven probably."
"And he wants her back because he needs to turn her, so he can be powerful again." It's not a question, it's just me trying to get the truth into my brain, trying to understand it all.
She doesn't answer, just stands up and says, "I'm going to see what we have for supper."
I slowly move my head. "You want help?"
"Nah, you just sit there and let things settle. You've got a lot to think about."
It's time for the plan. I say my lines really slowly, the lines we planned back at the hospital. "I guess you'd better be getting a call soon, huh?"
She stares back at me. We talk like the house is bugged. Neither of us know about pixie hearing, but we aren't going to chance it.
"You still think I should go in if I get a call?" she says. She lowers her voice. "I'm not sure if we can just leave you here without Nick close by."
What she means is: can we do the plan without Nick?
"Yeah," I say. "You can. I'll be fine. Everything will be fine."
"I'd rather he came." She shuffles over and kisses the top of my head. "It's good to have my granddaughter back."
"It's good to be back," I say, because it is.
So I sit there. I sit and sit and sit, but I do not think at all about our plan or how Nick's sudden departure makes us down one were. I just remember how it felt to have Nick's lips moving against my lips. I just remember how warm he is.
A couple minutes later my grandmother's beeper goes off. She eyes me, man-strides over, and takes my pulse, which is ridiculous. I broke my arm, not my heart. Then she checks my head for fever. I must pass because she straightens up and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
"They've got a big accident on the way to Acadia. Life Flight might have to fly in. They've called me on," she says really slowly. "I think I have to go. That okay with you?"
"Yep." I grab myNorton Anthology of British Literature. I have so much homework to catch up on.
I've missed two days of school. It's plausible for me to grab it.
She pulls on the coat that hangs from a peg by the front door. "I've called Nick. He should be here in ten minutes."
"He's coming here? He didn't go all wolf and attack some sheep or something?"
She smiles. "He's a hothead, but he's not a fool."
I don't say anything.
"You're blushing," she teases.
"You are not a nice grandmother."
She opens the door. Cold air bursts in and the fire in the woodstove seems to grow taller. "But you still love me?"
"Of course," I say.
"Good. You take it easy. I'll be back soon, but not too soon, if you know what I mean."
Then she mouths the words, "Stay safe."
She winks and is gone.
Grandmothers.
He arrives about five minutes after Betty leaves.
He knocks on the door, which I know Betty left unlocked so I woul
dn't have to get off the couch.
I don't invite him. in. He just walks on through. Obviously he's been here before. Obviously he is the one who pretended to be my dad.
He's still wearing the black cloak that he had on when I saw him at the airport in Charleston and outside the cafeteria doors. He is tall and pale, like me. His hair shines dark and wavy and well cut. He has deep eyes that are beautiful, like the trunks of big trees.
I freeze.
"Zara."
He lets my name dangle there. Then, as casual as anything, he shuts the door behind him. The cold air stays in the room. I shiver.
"You're cold? I'll put another log on the fire."
He strides across the room, opens the stove door, and puts another log in. Sparks fly up. He catches one in his hand and crushes it, then lets go. He isn't burned.
I find my voice. "What are you?"
He cocks his head at me and wipes his hands together like he is getting rid of dirt. "You don't know?"
"I have no clue." I am almost telling the truth, because I know the basic facts of what he is, but not the essence. I am far, far away from the essence.
I pull myself up straighter on the couch.
"You saw me at the airport, and I called to you in the woods," he says. "And when your surrogate father died I was there."
"At the window."
He nods.
We let this news settle over us for a minute. Surrogate father? Only father is more like it. "Did you kill him?"
"Of course not."
"Really?"
He fiddles with the fire, tossing an ember back and forth between his palms. It would be cool if it wasn't so freaky.
"You're following me," I finally say. "Why?"
"Because I'm trying to reclaim what's mine."
"I'm not yours."
"You are. You always have been. You always will be."
"That's crap."
"Is it? Look inside yourself, Zara. I think you'll find what's true."
"I don't know what's true anymore. But I know you're starting to sound like a bad ripoff of Darth Vader in an oldStar Wars movie. And I know you're trying to hurt me."
He shakes his head and listens to the air. "Never."
"Which part? The Darth thing or the hurting thing?"
"Both."
I roll my eyes. I look around for a weapon. There's the fireplace poker, but it's pretty far away. There's the lamp, but can I really do any damage one-handed? I just need to get him outside.
