Korrigan (Secrets of the Fae Book 1)

by Rebecca F. Kenney

  "I'm guessing there's a good reason why you showed up in my room? How'd you get in, anyway?"

  "Back door was unlocked."

  "Uh-huh. And you couldn't text me, or call me?"

  "No. See, the night of prom, when I went home, my guardians did this." I roll up my jeans to show him the bruises. "And then they locked me in the basement. I know it sounds crazy, like I'm making it up, but I swear I'm not."

  "Aislinn, are you okay?"

  "I'm fine. I got out, and I left. I'm staying with a friend."

  "You gotta talk to the police about this. My parents— we can help you."

  "No, no. This is very important— we can't get the authorities involved, okay? It has to do with— other things that are going on. Things that are dangerous."

  "Aislinn." His brown eyes are sober, compelling. "You need to tell me the whole thing. Everything. Right now."

  So I do.

  19

  JEALOUS

  Zane

  "So," Aislinn says. "You're awfully quiet."

  "Yeah."

  "Are you totally freaked out?"

  Hell yes I'm freaking out! "Just processing."

  Processing the fact that you're a freaking demon monster. Oh wait— only during the daytime, when you haven't been sucking the life out of people.

  I don't believe her. She's crazy, like needs to be in a hospital crazy. Crazy's not PC, though— let's say mentally imbalanced. Rationally challenged.

  Except, I do believe her— only because I saw that thing, the demon, with my own eyes. The timeline checks out. I actually saw her. Or not her— the Thing riding her? Apparently that's how it works.

  And the voice magic she showed me— that was real. If there's genuine-for-real magic, why not have mythical Fae beings and demon-beasts, too?

  "You're really seventeen, right?" I say. "Not five hundred and seventeen?"

  "Yes, I'm really seventeen."

  "But you're gonna live forever."

  "Not exactly, but yeah, for a long time."

  "You guys age, or whatever?"

  "Not really— the others have aged a little, but it happens really slowly."

  She's going to be young and hot long after I'm a doddering old guy with gray hair. "Damn it, Aislinn."

  "I know."

  I should have backed away from this weeks ago. Now I'm in it. I've got these strands of her all wound up in my heart, and cutting 'em loose is gonna hurt like hell. I don't know if I can stand it.

  I slide my arm around her shoulders and draw her to me, right up against me, where I can feel her heart beating. She won't look at me.

  "Aislinn."

  She shakes her head. "This is pointless, right? You know it. It's like all the stupid vampire stories where the guy is going to live forever and the girl's just a blip on the centuries of his life. Except I'm going to be the one watching you get old and die."

  "Hey. Who says you'll have to see all that? Most high school couples don't last past college. Maybe we'll break up before then."

  "Oh, that's comforting." She rolls her eyes. But I can tell she is a little comforted, too.

  I'm teasing her, because as much as it scares me I can see myself being with her till I'm 90. But telling her that would be way too much for this moment.

  "What's the point of worrying about it now? We can enjoy being together for a while, anyway." I lower my face to hers and taste her lips, and they're so incredibly sweet and soft that all my worries just burn away.

  Until I remember one more thing. I break off the kiss.

  "And this guy— the Far Darrig— he's the one who gave you the power thing, with the voices? The one who's really into you?

  "Yes." Her eyes dart away for a second when she says it. There's something here. This guy is a threat.

  "Do you like him?"

  "What? No."

  She's a terrible liar. "Aislinn, I need you to tell me, for real. Do you like him?"

  "I guess I'm attracted to him," she says. "He's like a celebrity to other Fae, okay? He's a legend. And he's attractive, and he likes me. He thinks we're meant for each other or something."

  Now I'm angry. Some centuries-old creep is trying to mess this up for me. Not cool. As my fists tighten, Aislinn glances down— she lays her hand on my arm.

  "I'm not done," she says. "In spite of all that, I know he's bad for me. There are parts of him that are really dark and cruel. I've told you this before. The way he's treated me from the beginning has been kind of abusive."

  I'm gonna tear the guy's heart out through his throat, and that's if he's lucky.

  "Mostly emotionally," says Aislinn quickly. "He hasn't done anything bad to me. Chill."

  "Oh, I'm chill," I say. "I'm very chill."

  "Any relationship with him would be really unhealthy. I know that. With you, it's a lot better."

  "So I'm the healthy choice. Like kale. As opposed to the hot, dangerous Fae guy, who's what, the delicious bacon cheese fries?"

  "Not like that." She smiles a little. "I just mean that, you and I have something real. We share likes and interests. We're the same age. We can be real with each other. And I feel safe with you. I know you won't hurt me, force me to do anything I don't want to do, or push me to do something wrong or evil. You have a huge heart, you're smart, and you're absolutely gorgeous and sweet. So no, Zane, it's not even a question. If it's a choice between you or him, I will choose you, every time. Every single time."

  Wow.

  I don't know if I can live up to all that. What she says relaxes me a little, but she's still attracted to the dude. She admits it. What am I going to do with that? I guess it makes sense. Like, I'm not gonna run after every cute chick I see— I can appreciate, but I wouldn't deviate, cause I'm with Aislinn. As long as she feels the same way, I guess I can deal.

  "All right, I guess we're good," I say. "But listen, if your heart starts tellin' you something else, you need to let me know, okay? Fair is fair."

  "I will, I promise."

  I look at her, at the slim shape of her and her gorgeous red hair and those green eyes that slay me every time. She's sugar and fire, sweet and strong. Why would anybody want to hurt her?

  "You can't ever go back there. You can't let them beat on you like that."

  She nods. "Arden and I are getting into the apartment today, I think. Or at least into a hotel, until the apartment is ready."

  "You trust her?"

  "Not exactly. She did report on me to the Far Darrig, and she brought me to him when he told her to. But she only did it because she's so sick of the way she's been living. I think our interests are the same, for now. By the time they diverge again, I hope to have learned enough from her to make my own way."

  "Good plan." I squeeze her shoulders again. "That's why I like you. You have 'brains in your head and feet in your shoes,' if I can quote Dr. Seuss without losin' my man card."

  "You could never lose your man-card," she says with a smile, giving me a long, up-and-down look. It's distracting as hell, but I don't let it shake me. I got something important to say.

  "You're not an airhead like some girls, you know— all clothes and shoes and hair and nails. You're smart and strong, and real. You think a lot."

  "Thanks." She's smiling at me, like it's funny.

  "I'm serious. I think that's why Laurel and I got along so well, too. I like girls who are more than you expect, you know— interesting."

  Her smile is gone. "You and Laurel? You guys dated?"

  "Hold up, you didn't know?"

  "No, nobody ever mentioned that little detail," she says crisply. "Were you guys serious?"

  "You jealous?"

  "No." She says it too quickly, too emphatically.

  "Hey, it's okay. I get it. Listen, Laurel and I have been friends for a long time— since elementary school. We're still friends, but it's long over, okay? She's with Mike now, and I'm with you."

  "Was she— your first?"

  "First what?" But the second I say it, I real
ize what she means. Oh man, I'm in it now. Best to be honest, though. "Yes, she was. First and only."

  Since she's asking, I'm gonna ask too— just to be clear, although I think I know the answer. "And you haven't had a boyfriend, so— "

  She shoots me a look, like Why are you asking me about this now? But she brought it up— I'm just following the conversation train.

  "Yeah, I'm new to— all this," she says.

  Good to know. "That's okay, you know. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

  "I'm not."

  "Well, some girls are. You don't need to be."

  She lays her head on my shoulder. "How are you this awesome?"

  I grin and wrap her up in my arms, the way she seems to like being held. "Hey, I'm just doin' what I do."

  Some minutes pass. "Girl, that was a heavy conversation. We done?"

  "Yes, please. You think your mom would spare a poor girl some breakfast?"

  "She never turns anyone away hungry. 'Specially not on a Sunday morning."

  20

  LIBERTY

  Aislinn

  I spend the rest of the day with Zane's family, after he tells them a little of my situation. It takes a lot of persuading to get his mother to agree not to call the authorities. I keep reassuring her that I'm safe now, with my "other aunt," that I'm getting help and support, and on and on, till she's satisfied.

  They insist that I go to church with them, where I feel like a pale ghost in an ocean of joyful faces. It's loud, and strange, and wonderful all at the same time.

  All day, I feel like I'm in a different world. It's a world of warmth, and family, and small jobs around the house that need doing, and homework, and TV, and ready smiles. So different from my day yesterday, with the Far Darrig's trendy loft, and the hairy Fae creature, and the karaoke in the bar, and our fight at the end. And more different still from the big house, so full of beautiful things and so hollow.

  Somehow, I need to take these three realities, make sense of them, and create my own.

  Finally, that evening, Arden emails me. She's set up in a motel not far away, and she needs me to put the concealment spell around it.

  Zane drives me over in his truck. I have nothing to bring with me, except a couple of big ham sandwiches that Kali made for me. "In case you get hungry tonight," she says.

  I love that girl.

  When we reach the motel, I let Zane walk the perimeter with me. I feel silly saying the spells in front of him, but I do it anyway. He doesn't laugh, just looks mildly curious.

  "This actually works?"

  "Let's hope so."

  The room is basic, spare. Arden's tastes aren't like the twins'— she values money and the effort it takes to get it. She won't waste any on a fine hotel when we're going to be on our own for the foreseeable future.

  I've never been in such a plain room. Two double beds, a dresser with a TV, a mini fridge, a table and two chairs. And a bathroom. It's very plain. And to me, it's absolutely beautiful, because it means freedom. I can sleep in peace tonight.

  "You sure you're gonna be okay here?" Zane looks concerned.

  "She'll be fine," Arden says, abruptly but not unkindly.

  "I will," I assure him.

  "I brought some of your things." Arden gestures to two suitcases. I don't know what she went through to get them secretly packed and stowed in her car, along with all her own things. I do know that she left a lot behind, for my sake. If we'd had more time, we could have planned this better.

  Who knew that Arden would be the one in my family to actually care about me?

  "Thank you." I hug her for the first time I can remember.

  "Mm-hm." She doesn't hug me back, but she doesn't shrug me off either. "Your phone's in there too."

  "Yes! Where?"

  "First suitcase, top front pocket."

  I pull out the phone— and the charger— and plug it in immediately. It feels like I've got part of myself back again— a little piece of my freedom. My power to communicate.

  "I'm heading home," says Zane. "See you tomorrow, Aislinn?"

  "I'll walk you out."

  We step out of the room and close the door behind us. We're alone in the hallway. Looking into his eyes, I try to see how he's feeling about everything. I poured a lot of strangeness into his brain today, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's struggling with it.

  Of course I didn't tell him everything. I didn't tell him about the dreams, or any details about my encounters with the Far Darrig, or the fact that the Far Darrig's loft is the "friend's house" where I stayed the past two nights. It's not meant to be deceptive— he just doesn't need to know all of it.

  But I do want to trust him with as much information as I can, so I lay my hands against his T-shirt— such nice muscles underneath— and look up at him. "You know if you have questions, you can ask me anything."

  "Yeah, I know. I'll probably have a list for you tomorrow."

  He's sliding his hand behind my neck like he does, tilting my face up, bending down to me. I close my eyes. His lips on mine— tender and beautiful, safe and exciting at the same time. Lighting me up on the inside. He's kissing me as if he has never kissed anyone else.

  But he has, and so have I.

  He moves back and sighs. "Got to go. More of this tomorrow."

  "It's a promise."

  As he walks away, I can't help thinking for a minute about him and Laurel. Kissing. Him, touching her. How much of his heart belonged to her before they broke up? And what does she think of me, knowing him the way she does? She's never been anything but kind to me. I thought of her as the first girl friend I ever had; and now, somehow, it's different.

  Of course I didn't expect him to never have had a serious girlfriend. He wasn't a night creature shut up in a house for 17 years like me. But somehow, knowing how close he got with her makes me feel a little less special. Naive. Embarrassed. And a little frustrated that I can't hate Laurel, because she's awesome.

  ◆◆◆

  For the next few weeks, I barely think about the Far Darrig, or the other Korrigan.

  Arden is convinced that Maeve is hunting for us; but with our pixie cloaking and Arden's technical skills, we're tough to locate. Normally Arden would be Maeve's go-to person on the hunt— without her, it will take Maeve a lot longer to find us. We hope.

  We move into the apartment, make a trip to a big furniture store in Charlotte, and buy some basic furnishings. Arden sets up two separate accounts for me; one a savings account, where most of my money is kept, and the other for spending. I have sole access to both; although I'm sure if she wanted to crack my account password, it would be as easy for her as snapping her fingers.

  To keep out of Maeve's sights, and away from leprechauns' prying eyes, we stay in the apartment most of the time. I have the nagging feeling that I just exchanged one prison for another, but there's a difference. We don't have a housekeeper, or a Magnolia, to clean up after us, so I start taking care of the place— making the grocery list, cooking, keeping things picked up. It's actually fun. I even like cleaning the bathroom, because I can put on loud music and dance while I do it.

  I love the feeling that they can't find me— not the Korrigan, not the Far Darrig or his leprechauns. Fewer complications have made my life happier already.

  Between school and the start of his summer job, I barely see Zane— but it will be better once summer really begins. His graduation day is in early June. Every time I think of long, hot summer days together, with our friends or with just him, I can't stop smiling.

  I'm done with my online homeschool courses for the summer, so Arden and I begin a different kind of learning— protective spells. She teaches me how to fend off a binding spell, using a few Gaelic phrases and a curvy Celtic knot, which must be traced over the skin.

  Other than the idea of using knots for warding, the whole magical element of my life seems frustratingly vague. Speak Gaelic words that apply to what you want to do, and it might maybe work as a spell— or it might do abso
lutely nothing to help you. It feels too easy (like there should be Latin or potions or chicken's feet involved) and at the same time, too hard, since you never know if a charm will work or not unless you've tried it before.

  One day, I ask Arden about it. "So is there a school or a university where I can learn more spells? The way we're doing it seems kind of haphazard."

  "This is not a children's novel, Aislinn," says Arden. "There is no Hogwarts. What we know of magic has been passed down through generations. And we Korrigan rarely used it at all."

  "That's right, because Maeve hates magic. Why? She used to employ druids, back in the day."

  "I suppose Far Darrig told you about that," she says. "Yes, as queen, Maeve was fascinated with magical power. She spent a great deal of money and time collecting the most powerful druids for her court."

  "So why does she hate them now?"

  "When the Far Darrig tricked her, she began suspecting everyone— all of the druids at court. She had them tortured and killed. The rest of them hid from her, and so began a feud between her and them. And don't forget, it's magic that made us what we are. We have a good life now, but in the early days, it was bloody and dangerous, for us and for everyone else. That's why she hates magic, and she won't use it unless absolutely necessary."

  "So druid magic— is it just the Gaelic spells then?"

  "The Old Tongue only works magically for the Fae. When a human speaks it, nothing special happens."

  "I know that part."

  "For druids, it's different. They are not Fae, but there's a kind of magic inborn with them. It's a darker magic, one that requires blood, or other fluids, to unlock it's secrets. Usually a non-lethal amount; but for bigger spells, there was human sacrifice."

  "My great-great-great-ancestors sacrificed humans?" As if my family tree weren't messed up enough already.

  "Probably. Different orders of druids took care of different parts of the ceremonies. The order of the Vates was responsible for the sacrifices."

  Great. So if I want to explore the magic thing further, I'll have to delve into some druid blood magic. Mental note— never do that.