Korrigan (Secrets of the Fae Book 1)

by Rebecca F. Kenney

  "Back off," I say. It's more like a snarl than I intended.

  "Okay, okay. Geez, calm down." Frank picks up his tray. "Whatever's got you in knots, dude, you need to work it loose."

  He strides away, and I'm left with the stares of the other three. I chew and stubbornly glare at my tray till I can't handle it anymore. "What?"

  "Whaddya mean what? You just bit off Frank's head for being— well, Frank." Laurel taps the table in front of me with her long multicolored nails. "Zane, look at me."

  Gritting my teeth, I look up. There's real concern in her eyes.

  "If there's something going on, you need to deal with it. Don't let it eat you up, okay?"

  "Sure."

  "I'm serious. You've got a lot going on this year. Take it easy on yourself."

  "Listen to the lady, Z," says Julio. "Me, I'm takin' it super easy this year. Might even stretch senior year into two."

  "That's not what I mean." Laurel sighs. "Okay, gang, I'm out. Gotta get in a little review before the test. Stay classy."

  Julio leaves a minute later, too. Mike and I sit, finishing our food in silence. He's like a big, silent mountain, and for some reason I suddenly feel like talking.

  "You ever see anything crazy— I mean super crazy—in the woods? Like a— like an animal you didn't recognize?"

  "Nope."

  "Well, I did. This morning."

  More silence. More chewing. It's almost time for class, so we pick up our trays and take them to the return line.

  "Heard a story," said Mike, scraping trash off his tray. "Couple of brothers hikin' the mountains. Ran into something."

  "What something?"

  "Shetani."

  "Say what?"

  "Shetani. Night demon."

  I swallow. "What did it look like?"

  Mike stares at me. "It look like the bottom of a bottle, man, what you think? They scared themselves half to death on nothin' but liquor, okay? Now whatever you think you saw, you didn't see. Or if you did, there's a good reason. You need to forget about it and quit actin' like you'd jump if a butterfly landed on your shoulder."

  But I can't stop thinking about it— not that day, and not the next day. I manage to force it into the back of my mind, but it keeps crawling up again.

  The next night, I'm trying to study, but I just can't keep still. I got mad energy to burn. Finally I throw the books on the floor, shove my laptop out of the way, and get my shoes. Time for a run. Not in the woods, though, no sir. I'll stick to the streets.

  It's getting dark, and the bulb by the back door is out. I pull out my phone to light my way up the driveway. And then I stop.

  There's a text from Aislinn.

  "Hey you. Can we talk?"

  After what she said to me over the phone? Hell, no. I type furiously. "Hell. No."

  There's a pause. Then she sends back a bunch of question marks. Then "Are you okay?"

  Is she kidding? I pick out some fierce emojis, including a red-faced demon, and send them.

  "You're being weird," she texts back. "Just meet me at the store. Please. I'm waiting outside."

  She's at the store by herself, alone, at night? I curse out loud, then look over my shoulder even though I know Mom is in the house.

  Maybe Aislinn was feverish and hallucinating or something when she called me. Maybe I was. It's not much comfort, given what she said. But maybe there was something I missed.

  Maybe she didn't mean it.

  And I don't like the thought of her sitting there on the curb by herself, with the dark woods all around the parking lot and that Thing maybe creeping through them.

  Damn it. I'm going.

  When I pull up in the truck, she's right where I pictured her, out front on the curb, with the bright neon lights from the store window shining on her. Why does she have to be so beautiful?

  But if the inside of that girl is as mean as what she said on the phone, there's no way I'm having anything else to do with her.

  I have to know.

  I park the truck and walk toward her.

  15

  DEMONS

  Aislinn

  Being banished to my room didn't come with a lock and key— at least, not yet. Maeve still expects me to obey her, in spite of the fact that I've proven otherwise by spending time with Zane and the group even when I know she's not happy about it. I guess her willingness to believe in my obedience— to give me another chance— might be the one grandmotherly trait about her. Either that or Her Majesty expects me to cower and comply after the tongue-lashing I got.

  Too bad I'm not living up to those expectations.

  I stay in my room all night, only opening the door around midnight when Magnolia knocks and offers me a tray of food before she goes to bed. Being confined here is kind of like being in jail, if jail had a laptop and books and cushy furnishings.

  Before dawn, Gemma knocks at my door. She escorts me to the dungeon, yawning widely the whole time, but never speaking a word.

  And at dusk, Gillian lets me out. "You're to return to your bedroom," she says. "There's food in there."

  Without speaking to her, I go upstairs. But I won't be staying quietly in my room tonight. I have other plans.

  As soon as I'm in my room, I swap the robe for jeans and a T-shirt. Then I wait until 11 o'clock, when the Korrigan should all be in their own rooms.

  I'm about to leave my bedroom when I notice that someone has folded a note and slipped it under the door. When I open it, it reads "The house alarm is armed in case you try to leave. The code to deactivate is 398553."

  No one signed it, but I know it's from Arden. She's the one who handles house security. I make a mental note to thank her later, and maybe buy her a present. I'm not sure why she's so firmly on my side, but I'll take any ally I can get.

  I slip downstairs, whispering the charm for silent feet and walking carefully along the edges of the stairway so the steps don't creak. There's nobody in the front entry, or in the adjoining rooms. I check them, one by one.

  Finally, when I'm sure I'm not being watched, I go to the painting by the front door, the one that hides the alarm panel. Quickly I type in the code to deactivate the system.

  As quietly and carefully as I can, I turn the deadbolts, twist the handle, and ease the door open. Once I'm through, I close it just as silently.

  My first stop is the bushes where I tossed my phone. Thankfully it hasn't rained, and the phone is still there.

  And the battery is still dead.

  But I brought the charger, and I know where to go to get it juiced again.

  When I walk through the doors of the corner store, Devon looks up from behind the counter. His "customer" face softens into his "friend" face in a half second. Well, if we aren't friends, at least we're acquaintances.

  "Hey girl, whatcha need?"

  I hold up the phone and charger. "Mind if I plug in somewhere for a few minutes?"

  "For sure, for sure. I got you! Back here." He points to an outlet behind the counter. "Go right ahead."

  "Thanks." I plug in the phone, then buy a Diet Coke. It tastes like heaven.

  Devon is looking at me. "So, so, so. Where's the big man tonight?"

  "You mean Zane? I'm not sure. I'm gonna text him as soon as my phone works."

  After a few minutes, I pick up the phone and start texting Zane.

  It's a weird conversation. He seems mad, or distracted, or something. I'm not sure if he's texting someone else while texting me and sending the wrong message to the wrong person, or what. If it's not a mix-up, then he's pissed, for some reason. Really pissed. But he finally agrees to meet me.

  When Zane gets out of the truck, he's acting very different than I've ever seen him. His body is rigid, and his hands are stuffed into his jeans pockets like he's trying to keep them from doing something he'll regret. The muscles of his neck and jaw are taut and twitching.

  He's furious.

  Instead of sitting next to me, he stands a step or two away, never cracking a smile
.

  "I didn't expect to hear from you, after what you said on the phone." His eyes burn with a mixture of anger and pain. "You gotta know there's nothing you can do to fix what you said."

  "What I said? What did I say? When?" I'm so confused.

  "Don't pretend it didn't happen! You know it did." He's turning away. "Why did I come here? I don't need this crap."

  "Zane!" I stand up and grab his arm. "Please. When?"

  "Yesterday morning. About dawn."

  I sink down to sit on the edge of the sidewalk. "Oh my gosh, no. What did I say to you?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not gonna repeat it. Come on, now. Why you pretending you don't remember?"

  "It's hard to explain." The Far Darrig had my phone and used his power of voice mimicry to turn you against me, because he's jealous.

  "You schizophrenic or something? Split personality? Bipolar?"

  "None of that. It's much weirder. All I can say is, that wasn't me on the phone. It was someone else."

  "Aislinn, don't pull that crap with me. I know your voice."

  "Someone who sounds just like me."

  He sighed. "Like an evil twin? Dang it, why am I even listening to you?" He steps off the sidewalk and backs away. "See ya never, Aislinn."

  He's walking away from me. Probably forever.

  How much do I want him in my life? Enough to reveal part of the truth.

  "I'm telling the truth." I use his mother's voice.

  He stops in his tracks.

  "Would you believe that some people in the world have— special abilities?" I say, in Frank's voice this time.

  Slowly he turns around. "What. The Hell."

  "It's true," I say, in Julio's voice. "Some people can speak in other voices."

  He's shaking his head. "No, no, no. I can't deal with this, I got school and stuff to think about, and you're telling me there's freaking abilities or voice magic or something? No. Uh-uh. This on top of— it's too much."

  I revert back to my normal voice. "I'm sorry. I had to show you, so you'll believe me," I say. "The person who called you wasn't me. It was someone else, someone with the ability to imitate my voice perfectly."

  "And you can do it, too?"

  "Just recently," I say. "He kind of— gave me the power."

  "Gave it to you."

  "Yes."

  He comes back and sits beside me, long legs stretched out. I study his face, reading his confusion. He's very, very weirded out by this. Understandably.

  "So a guy, who can speak with other people's voices, gave you the same power he has. And then he used his power to say a bunch of hate crap to me over the phone in your voice? Why?"

  "Well..." I drag out the word. "He's— jealous."

  "Jealous? Of me?"

  I make a face and nod. "Pretty much."

  He nods. "Okay. Old boyfriend?"

  "I've never had a boyfriend before you. I mean—" I'm horrified that I just called him my boyfriend. "I mean, you're not my boyfriend, right, because you haven't asked me to be your— what I mean is, I haven't had a guy in my life like this before."

  A slow smile spreads across his face. Like warm, heart-melting sunshine. "Hey, I'm down with being your boyfriend. If you really didn't say all that stuff to me on the phone."

  "I didn't. Whatever it was, I would never—"

  His hand slides around the back of my neck and he's pulling me to him, kissing me so tenderly I think I might cry with relief. His other hand is warm against my back, drawing me even closer.

  Nothing else exists except him. No Korrigan, no Far Darrig, no leprechauns, no demons— they all fly away into the darkness of outer space and there's just me and Zane.

  "Yo, break it up, break it up," says a teasing voice behind us. Devon.

  Zane waves him away with one hand, keeping his lips locked with mine.

  "Man, this is my place of business," says Devon. "You gotta take that sweet lovin' somewhere else."

  "Come on, man," says Zane. But he stands and helps me up.

  "Sorry bro, that's my boss's rules. Nobody loitering out front at night. We cool?"

  "Yeah man."

  They fist bump, and Zane takes my hand. "Come on."

  We walk slowly down the road a little way. Zane's palm is sweaty, but I hold his hand anyway, loving the strength I can feel in his fingers.

  "So this guy," Zane says. "Who is he anyway?"

  A centuries old mythical trickster, descended from the ancient Irish god-race.

  "He's someone I met recently. For some reason, he likes me— I'm not sure why."

  "I know why."

  "Anyway, he keeps bothering me."

  "Do you like him?" He doesn't look at me.

  "No!" I say. "He's just— he's got a cruel streak, as you found out. And he's confusing and possibly evil. And rude. And inconsiderate. And he overshares about everything."

  "Sounds like you two have talked a lot."

  I didn't have a choice. He kidnapped me.

  But I did have a choice, and I chose to stay and listen. What does that say about me?

  "Zane." I step in front of him and put my hand on his chest to stop him. Through my fingers I feel his heart pounding under the layers of muscle and bone. "I don't like him. He abuses his power over people, and he doesn't really care about anyone but himself. You're so different— it's like night and day."

  "And who's the day?" he asks. "Day is the good one, right?"

  I laugh. "You're the day."

  "Yes!" He raises both hands. "I win."

  "Shut up." I laugh again. But in the back of my mind I can see Maeve's face, hear her warning me not to leave the house. And I'm wondering why Zane hasn't mentioned seeing the Beast in the woods. Did the Far Darrig lie? Maybe Zane never saw me at all. Or maybe he's too freaked out to talk about it. Either way, I need to leave.

  "I have to go. I'm sorry, but I'm kind of under lockdown at home. I just had to see you, to make sure you were okay."

  He shakes his head. "I won't lie, the past couple days have been pretty weird. But I'm good." He doesn't look right at me when he says it, but I don't have the time or the courage to find out what he's hiding, if anything.

  "Hey," he says. "We should have a code word. For the phone, so I know if it's really you."

  It's a fabulous idea. "How about 'pumpkin'? I doubt he'd call you to talk about pumpkins. Especially with it being spring and all."

  Zane laughs. "Cool. Code word pumpkin."

  I have to get back. If I mess up one more time, Maeve will lock me up for good.

  "Text me," he says. Then he pulls me in for another kiss.

  ◆◆◆

  I'm back within an hour of leaving. It seems that no one has missed me; the house is dark and silent.

  But when I get back to my room, Arden is waiting for me.

  "Hey," I say nervously. She did kind of encourage me to sneak out. But is she planning on getting me into trouble?

  "I assume you've been with the boy?"

  "Yes. Well, not 'been with' him like hooking up— just talking."

  "If you do 'hook up,' you need protection. Another baby Korrigan is just what this family doesn't need."

  "Seriously, Arden? Ew. I don't need you to talk to me about this."

  "Fine." She stands up. "Come on."

  "What? Where?"

  "I have a lead on a Life-Stream for you."

  I back away, shaking my head. "Arden, you know how I feel about taking life from innocent humans."

  "This one isn't innocent. He's a rapist who hasn't been picked up by police yet. He's wanted and everything, only I found him first. I'm a hacker, remember? But we have to hurry, or the cops will get there before you get a chance to take some days."

  "A rapist? Um, Arden, how do you plan on taking him down so I can Life-Steal?"

  She pulls a taser out of her bag. "Like this."

  I raise my eyebrows. "Who are you?"

  "Good question. Are you coming?"

  As much as I hate to ad
mit it, her plan is kind of brilliant. I have no problem taking life from a guy who's been hurting women, and I'll leave plenty of Life-Stream in him so he can do his jail time. I'll just be making his sentence a little harsher.

  We take Arden's car. It's already parked outside, so we won't be waking anyone with the opening of the garage door.

  She drives about twenty minutes, until we reach the river. This isn't the nice, well-manicured downtown part of the river though; it's the brushy, swampy part. There's a manmade dam where the water pours over with extra force, and nearby stand a few large old buildings— former mill buildings. They're all dull and dirty now, with barbed wire fences and 'no trespassing' signs. Apparently the signs aren't doing their job, because the building nearest us has broken windows and graffiti all over it.

  Arden's car slides into the shadows near the largest building. We climb out, closing our car doors as quietly as we can. The raucous sound of all the chirping night insects in the nearby swamp drowns out the noise anyway.

  "Arden, this is pretty intense," I whisper. "Are you sure about this?"

  She switches her phone to flashlight mode. "Come on. Stay close."

  I follow her, my shoes crunching on gravel and bits of broken bottle glass. The night is cool, and I don't have a jacket. I rub my arms and creep toward the fence with Arden. She seems to know exactly where there is a gap in the chain link, which is odd. Something isn't right here, and it's not just the fact that we're two women hunting a rapist at an old mill in the dead of night.

  "Arden, what—"

  She motions sharply for me to be quiet, bends the fence aside, and squeezes through the gap. As she holds it out of the way, I slip through as well.

  My heart is pounding. I've never done anything like this.

  We're sneaking toward a back door of the building. It's all weathered and worn— beautiful in a rustic industrial kind of way, or it would be if we had more light than a smartphone. Arden reaches up and cranks the handle, and the door groans open with a doleful echo in the darkness beyond.

  "He'll have heard that," I whisper, terrified. "Arden, how do you know where he is? How will we find him in here?"