Touch (Touched by the Fae Book 3)

by Jessica Lynch

  Even now that she’s sitting cross-legged at her mate’s side, absently patting his hair as she silently watches me move around, I refuse to turn around.

  Nine is standing where I put him a few feet away from us. I glance at him, wondering why Melisandre’s magic held through the portal when it came to him but not the other two. Could it be because the spell was fresh? I don’t know, and I’d give every damn thing I have to know the answer to that so I could bring him back to me.

  Not that I have much. I’ve got the clothes on my back, a pair of strangers that I suddenly feel like I’m responsible for, and that’s about it. I don’t even have the nail on a length of string that was my only protection against the fae. When the Fae Queen threatened my head for bringing the small piece of iron with me into Faerie, I had to remove it before she called on one of her Light Fae guards to do it for her.

  I tiptoe around the disaster of a room.

  I have no freaking clue where I am.

  Traveling through a portal, crossing over from the human world to Faerie and back… I’ve often compared it to being in the middle of a tornado. Based on the level of destruction in this room? It’s like I brought it in here with me.

  Wherever here is.

  Callie’s soft, gentle voice cuts through the heavy, awkward silence.

  “If I knew we were having guests, I would’ve straightened up. Then again, it didn’t look like this the last time I was here.” She exhales, a sound that could be a sigh or maybe a stifled chuckle. “Ash told me he would buy us time. I’m glad he’s alive but, man, that couch was super expensive.”

  And now it’s been ripped apart.

  Wait—

  I couldn’t have heard her right. “What? You know that couch?”

  It’s so not about the couch.

  Her voice is a little scratchy, rougher than before when she says, “This is our home. ”

  The our hits me dead in the chest. I rub the spot beneath my tits with the heel of my hand. “Really?”

  “Me and Ash. We live here. Or… lived here, I guess. Twenty years ago.” She keeps saying it like that, disbelief mixed with sadness, and a touch of wistfulness thrown in for good measure as if thinking about all she’s missed while she was trapped by the Fae Queen. It makes me squirm every time she mentions it. “It’s still here. Ash was right.”

  I glance over my shoulder at her, daring a quick peek. “I don’t get it.”

  A small smile tugs on her lips. “He brought as much magic to this place as he could. When he was sure that the queen would be coming after our family, he spent more than a year putting up the wards, concealing us as best he could. Her soldiers might hunt us down, but they wouldn’t find it easy. Humans? Impossible. And now… look. It’s still here.”

  It is. It also looks like someone—or a couple of someones—ransacked the place. Based on the slashes covering the poor couch, the pieces of hacked-at wood, the broken glass… they used a knife or something just as sharp to destroy it. Frustration that they came all that way only to find their prize missing?

  Probably.

  Slash marks…

  My stomach tightens as I remember the diamond blades on the Fae Queen’s soldier’s swords.

  How lovely.

  “Why would they have come all the way here?”

  She hesitates. I hear the hum as she searches for an answer and turn, giving her my profile. She’s nibbling on her bottom lip. Her shadowed expression is locked on my face.

  Duh.

  “They were looking for me.”

  It’s not a question.

  Good thing, too, because I don’t receive an answer for it. Not like I needed one but, right as Callie opens her mouth as if she had something to say, we hear the soft rustle of fabric against the floor as Ash finally rolls from his back to his side before tentatively pushing himself up.

  She lets out a squeal of surprise coupled with joy as Ash slowly rises. He’s weak, a little groggy, and the shadow travel didn’t do him any favors, but as he straightens, I watch as a sliver of sunlight streams in through the window, landing on his outstretched arm.

  He shudders, then pulls himself up to his considerable height. Straight-backed and proud, he turns in time to open his arms right as Callie throws herself into them.

  For a few moments, it’s as if I’ve disappeared. I’m gone. They only have eyes for each other.

  And, though it’s been only a couple of hours real time—not accounting for travel between the human world and Faerie—since I last spoke to Nine, I miss him so bad that I hurt.

  My parents are murmuring to each other, speaking in hushed murmurs. They’re not excluding me on purpose and, honestly, I’m glad. With Ash to distract Callie, it gives me a second to just breathe.

  He’s alive. I didn’t kill him.

  That’s a plus.

  Of course, I begin to think that might’ve been a bit of a mistake when my father slowly pulls away from my mother, throwing daggers across the room to where I placed Nine.

  “Ninetroir.”

  His voice is low. Hard. I don’t know if it’s because he hasn’t used it in twenty years or something else since every fae I’ve ever met has the most lovely, lyrical voice, but the rasp of it immediately has me on edge.

  “What is he doing here?” he asks before jabbing a finger in my direction. “And who is this girl? She’s touched…” He pauses, his lips curling back to reveal blindingly white canines as he bares his teeth. “She wears Ninetroir’s brand. How can that be?”

  The name is like a punch to my gut the second time he wields it, the reminder that I let Nine touch me—that I touched him—making me ache even harder. My heart twists and I take a deep breath.

  Ninetroir. Nine’s true name, one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. And Ash is using it with an angry, rough edge cutting into his voice.

  I wasn’t expecting that. Nine never explained much about how he knew my dad, but I got the idea that they were… if not friends, then comrades.

  Was I wrong?

  Callie tilts her head back, looking up at Ash. “Don’t you remember? You gave me the pebble, you told me to find him. It was our plan. You wanted to involve Ninetroir. I only did what you said.”

  I blink, stunned.

  The pebble.

  How does she know about the pebble?

  For some reason, Nine has been carrying a pebble around with him lately. I remember thinking it was weird but not paying too much attention to it. As soon as I bring Nine back to life—and I will, I swear to myself—that’s gonna change.

  I need to know more about the pebble, especially now that Callie has mentioned it like that.

  Ash, it seems, knows exactly what the meaning behind the pebble is. At least, he doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. He just nods, accepting what Callie said. “That explains why Ninetroir is involved. But who is she?”

  “Can’t you tell?” Callie asks. “Ash, honey, isn’t it obvious?”

  I know what he’s seeing. Honestly, the two of us could pass for sisters, if not twins, we look that similar. There’s no denying that I’m related to Callie.

  He scrutinizes me. I can see him putting two and two together and getting five. He doesn’t want to admit the truth that’s right in front of him.

  And, shit, I can’t do this right now.

  I thought I could.

  I can’t.

  “I’m, uh…” I gesture behind me, walking backward as I purposefully put space between us. This is just too weird for me right now. “I’m gonna go scout this place out, make sure nobody followed us here.”

  “What? No. Zel—”

  Nope.

  I cut Callie off before she can use that name again. I tap my chest, pointedly ignoring their curious expressions as they both lock in on my glove. Even if I thought this was the right time to explain my hands, I can’t. I just… can’t.

  “My name is Riley,” I remind Callie. “Riley Thorne.” I meet Ash’s strange golden gaze. “And, um, I g
uess I’m your daughter.”

  I’m so glad that I still have Carolina’s money in my pocket. Without it, we’d be even more screwed than we already are.

  As soon as I drop that bomb, I make my escape. I have every intention of returning—especially when Callie calls after me, asking me not to go—but I need a couple of minutes to myself, especially since Ash’s response to my revelation is to gape at me like I’ve sprouted a second head or something.

  So, before either one of them can try to stop me, I continue with my excuse, telling them that I’m scouting out the building, checking out the neighborhood, going for some food, and then I rush out of the room like I’ve got the devil chasing behind me.

  Only it’s not the devil. It’s my past and, yeah, that’s worse.

  As I flee, I notice something. It turns out, the mess surrounding us is contained to the space we landed in.

  That’s the good news.

  The bad news?

  Our sanctuary is not in the best part of… wherever we are.

  I probably should have asked Callie for more details about where we landed other than that it was their—not my—home. Once I slip out of the room, I realize that we’re in an apartment building; there are at least four other doors on our floor, plus an elevator. The elevator is parked at the end of the hall. It smells even mustier out here, the weak lights barely enough to help guide me toward the elevator.

  I tiptoe quietly since I don’t want to disturb any neighbors. It makes matters worse when I climb inside and see that we’re on the fourteenth floor. That leaves thirteen until the lobby and I keep my fingers crossed the whole time that no one joins me on the trip down.

  Thinking ahead, I worry about how I’m going to sneak out of the lobby without anyone seeing me—only to discover that there’s no one around. And I mean no one. I take a side-door just in case, and snort when I see that the glass door is shattered, yellow caution tape surrounding it.

  Okay. That might explain it.

  Wherever we are, it’s nothing like Acorn Falls. It’s an urban environment, a city with tall skyscrapers and countless businesses and storefronts everywhere. I don’t go too far, since I’m not sure I’d be able to find my way back, and I settle on a fast food joint around the corner.

  I’m anxious and worried and scared, but I’m also a little hungry so I jump at the chance for a snack. Who knows when I’ll eat again next?

  I retrace my steps, going back to the building I slipped out of earlier. On second inspection, it’s a dump. I don’t know how it’s still standing. The front door has some more yellow caution tape binding it closed, and a big, red sign that reads CONDEMNED posted in the middle.

  Condemned?

  How nice.

  Another big difference from Acorn Falls? There are homeless people on every corner. Normally, I don’t think I would notice, but after my encounter with that man right before I saw Dr. Gillespie in the deli, I’m not taking any chances. I peek closely as I scurry pass, patting my loose hair around my weirdo fae ears so that they’re hidden.

  A man is slumped along the side of the building, right by the entrance that I used. I was rushing on my way out, recklessly trying to put distance between me and my parents at first, and I didn’t notice him.

  On my way back in, though?

  There’s something about him that makes me stop. I think back to just… shit, this morning? Technically, it was only this morning… I think back to this morning and I remember the old drunk with the watery blue eyes who tried to stop me from going into the deli.

  His head is bowed, sleeping—at least, I hope he’s sleeping. I wish I could see what his face looked like, or if his eyes are blue, before chiding myself for suspecting the worst.

  That was Acorn Falls. This place… isn’t.

  And I’m being ridiculous.

  I pull the wad of cash from my pocket, quickly pulling a bill from the stack before shoving it back in place.

  He never stirs.

  I fold the bill, sticking it inside the crumpled coffee cup set in front of him. There’s a couple of quarters in there, maybe a penny or two, and I’m glad to see that I’m giving him a five. It’s better than the single I thought I grabbed.

  “Here you go. For whatever you need it for tonight.”

  My life’s a mess. If I can make it a little easier for someone else, might as well.

  On my way back in, I’m torn between wanting to dig into the bag of food I picked up and getting a better look at our hideaway. The yellow tape was a big clue that something was off, not to mention the busted door and the funky, musty smell that permeates the whole place.

  I peek my head into the stairwell I find off to the right side of the lobby. The lights flicker, the electric bulbs a high-pitched whine. With a loud pop, the one directly above me shorts out. I throw my hands over my head to protect it in case the glass shatters. Luckily, it doesn’t, but that was too close a call.

  Elevator, it is.

  The ride back to the fourteenth floor goes a lot quicker now that I’m almost back. I try to come up with another excuse to run away again, realize that I can’t avoid them forever—and, even if I could, I couldn’t leave Nine behind—then put on my big girl panties and go back inside the apartment.

  I know I’ve got the right one when I see the furniture on the side, the scattered debris, my gorgeous Shadow Man still frozen in the corner, and my parents watching me carefully as if they expect me to bolt again.

  They’re not entirely wrong.

  There’s a small table set to the side of the front door. It somehow survived in one piece and I put the bag of take-out on top of it. Something tells me that the food’s gonna have to wait a second.

  I don’t know what happened while I was gone, but the Light Fae seems a lot calmer now.

  He’s standing with Callie, his hands on her shoulders, his head dipped low as he looks directly at her face, almost like he keeps expecting her to disappear. Even when he backs away, glancing over at me as I shuffle into the room, he keeps one hand on her elbow.

  With the other, he gestures for me to walk toward him.

  “Come here. Give me your arm. Let me touch you.”

  I can’t do it. I can’t.

  He doesn’t know my history. He doesn’t know my past. As a full-blooded fae, I should’ve expected him to want to do this.

  I shake my head. “I’m not supposed to let anyone touch me.”

  Though Ash obviously doesn’t understand how much meaning I throw behind such a simple sentence, he’s quick enough to read between the lines.

  “I’m your father, Zella. Even if I was at full-strength, my touch wouldn’t affect you. My blood runs through your veins. I have no power over you.”

  Yeah. Maybe.

  Except for my name, I’m thinking.

  Despite me telling them both earlier that my name is Riley, this isn’t the first time I’ve been called Zella. How much longer before he tacks on a command and I prove that, maybe his touch doesn’t affect me, but his using my true name will?

  I notice that he’s careful not to do that. Ash might be giving me orders, but he doesn’t use my true name when he does. He saves that to punctuate his statements, though, as if he wants to make sure I know he’s talking to me.

  When it comes to my parents, I’m not so sure how to address them, so I don’t. I figure my best bet is to think of them as Ash and Callie, though the fact that they’re my mom and dad is a constant refrain in the back of my flustered thoughts.

  “Why do you have to touch me?” I ask suspiciously.

  Not like I’m going to let him. Proving my point, I don’t move any closer to him.

  His lips purse. I don’t think he likes me questioning him. Oh, well. He’ll learn.

  “It’s another layer of protection.”

  Does he think I was born yesterday?

  Okay. That’s probably the worst way to look at it considering, but seriously? If he can’t affect me with a touch, then there’s only one reas
on he’d want to leave his mark—and it’s so that he can try to erase Nine’s.

  That’s gonna be a nope, especially since it’s not like I can just snap my fingers and my haphephobia would disappear. When it comes to Nine, I can touch him. I’m beginning to think that it’s only because it is Nine.

  I shake my head and stay on the other side of the room. “No thanks.”

  “You’re afraid,” says Ash.

  “I’m not—”

  “Humans lie. So, it seems, do halflings. Zella, I can smell the fear coming from you.”

  “It’s not you. I mean, I’m not afraid of you. It’s just… I’m not so good with being touched.”

  “Oh, sweetie.”

  I can only imagine what kind of terrible thoughts are running through Callie’s head. To make matters worse, not all of them are wrong—I didn’t have the easiest time going from group home to group home, with a couple of fosters in between—but that’s not what I meant.

  “It’s something I’ve dealt with for a long time,” I say lightly, totally downplaying it while I offer an easy explanation. “When you’re taught from an early age not to let the fae touch you, but that anyone could be a fae wearing glamour, it’s understandable that you might develop a complex or two.”

  To my surprise—and obvious relief—he drops it. Letting his hand fall to his side, continuing to touch Callie as if that’s the only thing keeping him grounded, Ash nods over at me. “Your mother tells me that you’re the one who brought us out of Faerie and broke Melisandre’s spell.”

  I definitely brought them through the portal—nearly killed Ash doing it, too—so there’s no denying that. Breaking Melisandre’s spell? I’m still trying to figure that part out.

  “I had to.” I’m wary. Defensive, too. It comes through in the careful edge to my voice. “I couldn’t leave you there.”

  “What were you doing in Faerie? If Ninetroir was responsible for you, as I’ve been told, he should’ve kept you from the danger. His debt would demand it.”

  I don’t like to think about Nine’s debt. We got into a huge fight over it when I first discovered that he’d been commanded to watch over me all because he owed my parents a debt and my mother called it in the day the fae caught up with her. Now I know that the debt was only part of the reason he felt responsible for me. The fact that I was his fated mate was up there, too.