Riddles. Why is he giving me riddles? Questions with no answers, all obscured by the emotional impact of thoughts of his mother. His mortal life that could have been…He clamped down hard on the urge to ask anything further and turned to leave.
Except there was just one more thing he wanted to know. A mere curiosity—but it pricked at his mind…
“Tell me something.”
“Is that an order?” Bob glared flatly at him.
“No. Please.” Sonny held up a hand. “I mean—I would like to know. If you would like to tell me. The story I heard about you and the leprechaun…”
“And the honey jar?”
“Yes. Did it happen? Really?”
“Well…the insides of my ears are sticky.” He snorted. “And I occasionally attract the attention of amorous bees. You tell me.”
“How did you get out?”
“May the gods bless progress.” Bob raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Eight or nine years ago some bullyboyo contractors came along and built a five-star resort and golf course on the very site. The day they broke ground, they broke my jar!”
Sonny laughed despite himself.
Bob shrugged. “It’s a very nice course. I’m sure the patrons wonder, though, why they lose so very many balls. And the plumbing in the clubhouse tends to be…quirky.”
“Never cross a leprechaun.”
“Right.”
“What did you do to raise his wrath?”
Bob’s expression went stern. “That I will not tell you.”
“But why—”
“What I will tell you is this. Are you listening?”
Sonny nodded silently. The Faerie’s stare was so intense that Sonny almost felt it as a physical sensation.
“Once upon a time,” the boucca continued, “I was Auberon’s henchman, much like you. But I was never Auberon’s fool. And I am not entirely without compassion.” And then Bob, who was called Puck, who was called Robin Goodfellow, laughed gently and leaped gracefully from his perch, disappearing up into the shadows of the high stage rigging. His last words echoed down through the darkness.
“Take care of her, Sonny Flannery,” he said. “I did….”
XI
K elley showered in the tiny bathroom attached to her dressing room and blow-dried her hair. Of course, when she glanced up at the high, tiny window, she noticed sourly that it was suddenly raining buckets. Good thing her jacket had a hood, she thought, because her umbrella had gone missing days earlier. She suspected Bob.
With a sigh, she packed up her stuff and got ready to head home for a nice, quiet evening spent figuring out how to get a full-grown horse out of the bathtub—and the apartment—without alerting the neighborhood.
Standing in the doorway, watching a curtain of water sheeting off the sloped roof, Kelley briefly contemplated sleeping in the theater that night. What with the stormy weather and the no doubt stormier roommate…
Coward.
Squaring her shoulders, she yanked up her hood and stepped out into the sleeting rain. Instantly it felt as if she was running underwater. She could barely see through the downpour; ducking her head, she darted into the side walkway, where the eaves of the Avalon offered a scant bit of protection. As she glanced up from the puddles, Kelley halted, startled by the sight of a figure perched on an old wooden crate and peering through the grimy leaded-glass window that looked into one of the theater’s rooms. Her dressing room.
Where I just spent the last fifteen minutes standing wrapped in a towel!
Kelley stifled a gasp with one fist while her other hand went to the overstuffed bag hanging from her shoulder, with her can of mace buried somewhere deep inside. She tried to back away as silently as she could, but the figure stiffened, as if he had heard her sneakered feet over the rattling sound of the rain on the trash cans. Kelley turned to make a run for it back toward the stage door. Somehow the man made it off the crate and was blocking her way before she had taken a step.
How could anyone move that fast? she thought.
Then she looked into his eyes, and every other thought melted away.
Handsome Stranger.
His face was exactly as she remembered—from both the park and her midrehearsal dream. This time his gaze flashed not with compassion or sympathy, but with danger. His beautiful mouth was drawn into a thin, tense line.
His expression put Kelley on guard.
“Well if it isn’t the FTD florist,” she said, tilting her chin up defiantly. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
Three words that made her heart hammer painfully in her chest. Kelley had to stop herself from backing up a step. This was not exactly how she had wanted to run into Handsome Stranger again. This felt dangerous.
“What were you doing in the park after dark last night?” he asked, his tone sharp.
Anger took hold of Kelley. “What makes you think I was in the park after dark?”
“I know you were. I know you stayed there after I left you in the garden, and I know you found…something.” He was watching her very closely. “I need to know where it is. Tell me. Now.”
“Get lost.”
“Excuse me?” He blinked, startled. The blankness of his expression made him seem suddenly boyish, and Kelley realized that he couldn’t be that much older than she was, maybe eighteen or nineteen—not that his age necessarily made him less threatening.
But Kelley had been raised by a fiery Irish aunt. She enunciated each word as she repeated, “Get. Lost.”
Handsome Stranger looked confused, as if he’d never had someone tell him to take a hike before. “You don’t understand. I need to know what you found. It’s for your own good—you need to trust me.”
“Trust you? You’re lurking in an alley, for God’s sake. You obviously followed me here from somewhere, and you were looking in my dressing-room window when I was getting changed! I don’t think ‘trust’ is the issue here!”
“I wasn’t watching you get changed.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
At least he had the good grace to blush, Kelley thought.
“All I saw was you leaving the room. I wanted to see if you were alone so I could talk to you.”
“Right!” Kelley scoffed. “So you could ‘talk’ to me?”
In truth, he’d looked startled enough by her accusation that Kelley was inclined to believe him—she just wasn’t much inclined to care.
“Is that why you were skulking around backstage earlier?”
The question didn’t prompt any kind of reaction Kelley could have expected. His eyes flew wide and he pulled back sharply from her—almost as if Kelley had physically struck him.
What the hell?
“Are you stalking me?” She glanced over her shoulder to see if any of the cast or crew were still around. But the rain had driven everyone away or indoors.
“Of course not!” he said, sounding shocked.
He took a step toward her, and Kelley skittered backward.
“You even try to touch me, and I scream like a banshee.”
That stopped him. Again, there was that confused, boyish expression on his face.
Kelley hazarded a glance back up into his eyes, and the breath caught in her throat. The blazing intensity of his gaze was like being caught in a searchlight. He was threatening her. And yet all she wanted was to reach out and touch his face.
What thou seest when thou dost wake…
Kelley shook herself from the unwelcome reverie. She backed away as she watched him visibly clamp down on the urge to shout at her.
“It’s getting late and I don’t have time for this,” he muttered impatiently, shooting a brief glance skyward.
Kelley found herself following his glance. How on earth can he tell what time it is? The sky had been the same dingy shade of pewter-gray all day.
He took another step toward her, and all of Kelley’s nerve endings jangled like car alarms, urging her to flight. She felt a strange tingl
ing along her spine, down to her fingertips, as though she were actually trying to grow wings. But her feet remained rooted to the ground and, locked in his gaze, she held her breath.
He reached out a hand toward her, his fingers brushing her arm. All of a sudden an electrical shock jolted him backward, his whole right side jerking away. He flinched, and as he broke eye contact, suddenly Kelley could move again. But with preternatural speed he recovered and swiped a hand in her direction, catching her hood and a handful of her hair. He yanked her backward, and Kelley felt a snap as the catch of her silver necklace came undone and the four-leaf-clover charm fell off, landing in a puddle.
Anger flared in Kelley’s chest, overriding fear, and she rounded on her attacker.
She swung a wild fist in a wide circle, and the young man flew backward through the air, slamming up hard into the brick wall of the theater.
“How dare you?” she shouted, the air around her suddenly as shockingly cold as her adrenaline-fueled rage.
His storm-gray eyes went wide with alarm at the sight of her…
XII
L ight blazed like fireworks exploding in the alleyway.
“How dare you?” she shouted again, and her thunderous voice knocked him back against the wall a second time. Sonny threw an arm over his face to shield his eyes. The ground beneath him spun dizzyingly, and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick. Squinting against the glare, he glanced up at where, only a moment before, a girl had stood drenched and defiant. His jaw dropped open.
A nimbus of light flared all around her like diamond-bright wings.
He wanted to beg forgiveness. Offer up his life for his grievous offense. Grovel. The creature that stood before him, glorious as the stars, was to be worshipped and feared. His chest ached as though he’d been kicked with stone boots, and tears of remorse welled in his eyes. It was as though he were a small boy again, running through the halls of Auberon’s palace, knowing that he would never be one of the Fair Folk—a toy, a pet, but never truly loved by them. By creatures like the goddess who stood before him. Her light poured down on him, and he knew that he was massively unworthy….
And then, just as suddenly as the starburst had shone, everything went dim again.
“Jackass.”
Sonny shook his head, confused and disoriented, his field of vision still light dazzled and spotted with afterimages. He blinked at the girl, who glared angrily at him as she did the clasp back up on her necklace.
“You almost broke it!”
For an instant, Sonny thought he still saw a sparkling aura surrounding her. But it was faint, ghostly. Then nothing. She could not possibly have been hiding behind a glamour. Sonny’s Janus sensibilities could rip through a Faerie disguise as though it were gauze, even this far from the Gate.
“Are you deficient?” The girl stuffed the silver pendant back down the front of her shirt. “What the hell are you staring at?”
Sonny climbed unsteadily to his feet. The girl had her mace out now and was aiming the sprayer squarely at the bridge of his nose.
“What is it—drugs or something? What’s wrong with you?”
“Who are you?” he asked, rubbing his arm where it still tingled.
“Shouldn’t you already know that?” she scoffed. “I mean, seeing as how you’re stalking me.”
“I’m not stalking you.” He shook his head. It did, he had to admit, probably seem that way. “Not exactly. I just thought you might be able to help me.”
“Gosh, you know?” She tilted her head, eyes still bright with anger. “I’m really not feeling particularly helpful at the moment. Maybe some other time. Oh, wait. Maybe not.”
Sonny moved off, frustrated and utterly out of his depth. “All right. I understand. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”
“Yeah, well. Try not lurking. And not attacking. I’m outta here,” she said, backing away. The mace never wavered. “And don’t you dare follow me.”
“I won’t. I won’t bother you again.” Sonny held up his hands, palms out in a placating gesture. “I promise.”
“You’d better not,” Kelley said.
She turned and ran.
She ran away from him. She was afraid of him.
Sonny didn’t like the feeling at all.
“I see that went well,” Maddox said dryly as he dispersed the veil that had kept him hidden from sight and stepped out from behind a Dumpster. Sonny turned to glare at him. “No, really. I think she likes you.”
“Maddox…”
“I’m already shutting up.”
“You were supposed to be keeping watch,” Sonny muttered.
“I was. She’s quick.” He shrugged. “And anyway, you should’ve stayed veiled.”
Sonny stared in the direction the girl had gone. “I’m not sure it would have made any difference.”
“Why not?”
“She saw me. Standing onstage—she saw me. Through the veil. Did you…see her?” Sonny turned and grabbed his friend’s shoulder, hard. “I mean—just now—did you see what happened to her?”
Maddox’s expression was closed, inscrutable. The rain was lessening, but water still ran down both their faces. Neither of them noticed.
“I saw…something,” Maddox said. His voice was flat, carefully stripped of audible emotion. But his next words made his feelings perfectly clear. “I’m pretty sure it scared the hell out of me.”
“We should follow her.”
Maddox was already vigorously shaking his head. “Oh, no. No no no. You just promised you wouldn’t follow her. I’d think twice before breaking a promise to a sweet, pretty, incredibly scary kid like that. Especially when she can effortlessly toss you around in an alley.”
“Look, I got nothing but vague, somewhat dire warnings about the kelpie from the boucca. But that ‘sweet, pretty kid’ knows more about what happened at the Lake than she’s telling, and I think we should find out what that is.” Sonny didn’t bother to mention that Bob had also told him to “take care of her.”
“Let it go, Sonn,” Maddox said, and turned to walk in the opposite direction from where the girl had run. “I know trouble when I see it, and so do you. Put her out of your mind.”
Sonny did know trouble. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Maddox was right. He followed reluctantly in the other Janus’s wake, looking back over his shoulder as he went. In that moment, putting her out of his mind seemed like the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
XIII
S tanding before her apartment door, Kelley took a deep breath and turned her key in the lock.
“Tyff?” she called out tentatively. “Um…I’m home-and-really-sorry….”
Silence.
“Tyff?”
“He ate my soap.” Tyff walked slowly out of the bathroom, arms folded across her chest, the tone of her voice pleasantly conversational. “My eighty-dollar bar of hand-milled Japanese herbal complexion soap. From Japan. He ate it.”
“Oh…”
“He also ate your two-dollar bar of Irish Spring. I let him eat that one.”
“Tyff, I’m really, really sorry—”
“Actually, I gave it to him to eat.” Tyff smiled sweetly. After a moment of staring honeyed daggers at Kelley, she frowned and said, “Did you know you’re soaking wet?”
“I kinda got caught out in the rain….”
“Go put on a robe or something before you warp the floor, will you?”
Kelley looked down at her feet and saw that there was a puddle forming around her. She scooted past Tyff, who stood in the bathroom doorway, shaking her head. Kelley heard a whinnied greeting from over Tyff’s shoulder.
Stripping off her jacket and jeans, she slipped into her big fluffy bathrobe, thinking how much she was not enjoying coming home soaking wet twice in a row. A cup of tea would be nice—and give her an excuse to avoid the bathroom while she put the kettle on.
“Did…um…did he eat the oats?” she asked, smiling tentatively at Tyff as she edged past. “Yo
u know…after the soap?”
“He did not.” Tyff followed her into the tiny kitchen. “However, in an effort to avoid the further consumption of toiletries, I tried giving him some of your ridiculous kiddie cereal.” She waved at a box of Lucky Charms that was sitting open on the counter. “That seemed to go over well. So did scratching him behind his left ear.”
Kelley glanced at her roommate, extremely surprised by how well Tyff was taking all of this.
“Not that I’m becoming attached or anything!” Tyff said. “Because I’m not.”
“Okay…”
“I mean—even though he’s been a very well-behaved horsie so far and hasn’t even made a horsie mess—” Tyff stopped suddenly, realizing that Kelley was staring at her. “Never mind.”
“Okay…,” Kelley said again. She turned to make the tea.
Tyff was silent for a moment. “Winslow…what happened to you today?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look kind of…spooked. Wiggy. And it’s not because there’s a soap-devouring pony in the apartment. What’s wrong with you?”
Kelley bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Now that she was home safe in her own apartment, the thought of what had happened in the alley came rushing back. She suddenly realized what a very scary situation she had been in.
“Kelley?”
“There was this guy in the park yesterday. I’ve never seen him before, but he gave me a rose and…well…then he just sort of disappeared.”
“So? What about him?”
“I think he might be…following me.”
“Okay,” Tyff said slowly. “I know you’re new to the big city and all but, see, that’s not a good thing, Kelley.”
“He was in the alley outside the theater this afternoon.”
“An alley? Oh, even better! Did you call the police?”
“No, but I told him to stop following me.”
“Oh, good—you talked to him,” Tyff said sarcastically. “That’s nice and safe!”
“I know, I know….” Kelley stirred distractedly at her tea. “But he had a lot of opportunity to hurt me if he’d wanted to. And he didn’t. He said I should trust him.”
Wondrous Strange Page 7
