Touch (Touched by the Fae Book 3)

by Jessica Lynch

  Except now, after being away so long, I guess I’m sensitive enough to pick up on any trace of Faerie magic. It’s tough to explain. My skin feels itchy, like something is rubbing it the wrong way. I rub my forearm, the friction from my glove grounding me while it helps me get past the worst of it. It’s still there, just not so bad once I get used to it.

  That’s one good thing. It could definitely come in handy if our plan doesn’t go the way I want it to.

  Tiptoeing toward the door, I dare a quick peek out in the hall. We chose Easter on purpose because it would be emptier than it usually is on the weekends. I figure, with the holiday and the fact that it’s a Sunday, there’s a good chance that Dr. Gillespie won’t be around.

  I’m okay with that. I like to think of this excursion as more of a recon mission. If I’m lucky, he’ll have left the necklace with the Brinkburn on it in his drawer or something. If not there, then maybe I can find a clue to help me learn more about the doctor.

  Like where to find him when he’s not at Black Pine, for a start.

  All I have right now is a name—Aidan Gillespie—and his place of employment. That’s it. Not much to go on, and I didn’t want to waste the little bit of data that comes with my pre-paid phone so my searches aren’t that great, but even with a quick look, my old psychologist doesn’t have any kind of presence online.

  A phone number might have come in handy. An address, even better. Since I couldn’t find either of those, I had no choice but to return to the asylum and hope for the best.

  Fingers crossed.

  I wait until the coast is clear, take a deep breath and slip out of my old room. Once out in the hall, I shield myself as best as I can before heading off toward Dr. Gillespie’s office.

  I cling to the shadows, my back against the wall, my fingers splayed at my side so that I can push off at any given second. No one sees me. As if they can tell that I’m hiding here, every nurse, orderly, and tech avoids this corner as they bustle by.

  My heart thumps a little louder when Amy walks by, tucking a loose strand of dark hair out of her face and back into her neat ponytail. She’s got her nose buried in a patient’s chart, humming a cheery little tune as she goes, oblivious to the magic all around her.

  She was good. Kind. Nice. I didn’t appreciate her while I was committed to the asylum, and I wish I could tell her now that she was one bright spot in my otherwise dark days. I can’t, though. I’m not an idiot. Appearing suddenly to say hi to my former tech will land me in straps faster than I can blink—and that’s even if I don’t scare the crap out of her by popping out of seemingly nowhere.

  Seeing Amy tells me one thing, at least. It’s still daytime. Unless her shift has changed in the time since I’ve been gone, she works during the morning until early evening. Good. I’m still getting the hang of shadow travel and I wasn’t sure if I came straight to Black Pine from Newport or if I made a few unwanted stops along the way.

  The only downside to arriving so early? Despite the holiday, the asylum is definitely hopping with activity. I stay in my hiding spot, watching as the staff go about their business. I’m purposely staking out Dr. Gillespie’s office. It’s the only choice I have. I don’t know where else to find him and, since the last time I saw the crystal, he was wearing it around his throat, that’s where I’m going to start my search for the Brinkburn thing.

  It’s my only hope.

  For hours, he holds sessions with a variety of patients. I recognize a few—Whitney was the patient holed up in there with Dr. Gillespie when I first took up my position, and Tai comes slinking in sometime after lunch—and wait outside for the office to be empty.

  It seems like it takes forever before he gives himself a break. After his latest patient leaves, the doctor follows behind him a few minutes later. I’m not sure if he’s done for the day or if he’s running to the staff cafeteria or something like that. Doesn’t matter. As soon as he disappears into the stairwell that would take him to another floor, I make my move.

  Slipping from the shadows, I hurry for the door, letting myself into his office.

  It’s exactly the same as it was the last time I had a session with Dr. Gillespie. The desk. The books piled up everywhere, though much neater than before. The stacks of manila folders.

  I hurry toward the desk. When Dr. Gillespie walked by me on his way out of his office, I didn’t notice if he was wearing the necklace beneath his dress shirt or not. Since it’s not like I could grab him by the throat and check, I figure I should rifle through his drawers first, see what I can find.

  If I’m lucky, the necklace will be in here. Since I’m pretty much convinced that—like Carolina—he’s got that necklace on around the clock, I’m really just hoping to find out more about the man.

  Like where he lives. It’ll be way easier to lift the crystal without the threat of being caught by the facility’s staff.

  I grab the first drawer. It slides open easily.

  Good. I was afraid he might have locked them.

  A few seconds later, I see why he didn’t bother. There’s nothing of importance in here. Some post-it notes. Pens. A ton of paper clips. Nothing that helps me.

  I’m looking for a phone. A wallet. Odds are that he’s carrying both, but it’s worth a shot. What about an address book? Do people still use those?

  I tug open the next drawer.

  This one is… weird.

  There’s a bunch of plants. Some of it looks like grass and leaves, while others are obviously flowers. I see pressed daisies, some red berries, and a yellow blossom. Tucked in the corner, he has a cloth pouch with who-knows-what inside.

  When I go to grab it, my glove brushes against something much harder. I scoot the greenery away only to discover a pile of wooden rods lined up neatly near the bottom of the drawer.

  I pick up one piece, rubbing my thumb along the worn edge.

  I recognize this. When I was a kid, Nine brought me a length of wood similar to this and told me to always carry it. I kept it in my pocket or, more often, in my sock. It gave me blisters, but it was worth it—until my foster mother scolded me for playing with sticks inside.

  It’s rowan.

  According to Nine, a good-sized length of rowan wood can help hide you from the fae. A type of protection that wasn’t foolproof, but better than nothing.

  Red flowers, too, I remember. Wearing your clothes inside out. Daisy chains—I used to weave them effortlessly when I was younger—and even four leaf clovers. They all offered a little bit of a shield.

  And Dr. Gillespie has a whole drawer full of this kind of stuff.

  Why?

  Just as I’m putting the stick back into its place, I hear footsteps heading toward the door, followed by a nasal, whiny, male voice.

  “—forgot something in my office.”

  Shit!

  That’s Dr. Gillespie out there. He’s already coming back.

  And I’m standing behind his desk.

  I panic. Maybe it’s because I’m back in the asylum again, or maybe it’s because I thought I had a few more minutes to look around, but I lose all sense of reason. Instead of trying to hide in my shadows or even trying to create a portal then and there, I turn around wildly, looking for some way to escape.

  Apart from the door that leads back to the hallway, there’s one other one. I always thought it led to the doctor’s private bathroom. Here’s hoping that he doesn’t need to take a piss.

  Before Dr. Gillespie walks back into his office, I slam the drawer shut, dart around the desk and lunge for the other door.

  I’m kind of right. It’s… it’s sort of a bathroom.

  There’s a small sink on one wall. A pot that could possibly be a toilet. And that’s about it.

  The room is about half the size of the nursery back in the apartment in Newport. Except for the sink and the maybe toilet, it’s completely empty, unless you count the trio of ultra-bright lights screwed into the ceiling above my head. The bare walls are painted a glossy white that
reflects the light, making it seem like I’m about to walk inside a lightbulb.

  It stings my eyes at the same time as it makes my heart pound.

  I’ve seen a room set up like this before. Way more ornate and with the entire Seelie Court milling about, Melisandre’s throne room was purposely this bright so that the Dark Fae couldn’t use their shadow magic anywhere near her.

  The office door opens somewhere behind me, closing quickly with an ominous snick.

  I spin around, blinking hurriedly to get my sight back.

  Dr. Gillespie’s expression goes from shocked to elated in between the shutters of my eyelids. “Riley,” he drawls. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  No shit.

  I’m caught. No doubt about that. So stunned by his weirdo room, I let Dr. Gillespie walk in and find me standing in the middle of his office.

  What the hell am I supposed to do now?

  I see his eyes flicker from me to the room behind me. “Look at that. I see you found my secret space.”

  Secret space… oh boy. I don’t like the sound of that.

  “I got the idea from Siúcra.” At my blank look, he adds, “One of the main prisons in Faerie. Dark Fae and their shadows… it’s not sun, but it’s close enough. There isn’t a speck of shadow in this whole room. You’ll never escape.”

  I don’t show him any surprise that he’s talking about Faerie and the fae mainly because I’m not surprised. Surprise flew out the damn window that day in Acorn Falls when he was looking for me, then actually found me with that strange rock he wore on a string around his neck. The doctor knows about the fae.

  Of course he does.

  He’s not wrong, either. This secret room of his is so bright, I’m still squinting because my eyes can’t get used to it. Every corner is illuminated. If I somehow got locked inside of there, I’d be trapped since my shade-walking skill would be useless.

  It’s a good thing that I have no intention of getting locked inside.

  I might not have wanted to announce my presence to the rest of the Black Pine staff earlier, but I will if I have to. At least, if they throw me back in my old room, I know there’s a portal that’s still functional. All I have to do is get past Dr. Gillespie and bolt from his office and I have a much better chance of finding another Brinkburn some other day.

  As much as I hate giving in so easily, he can keep his.

  I lean forward on my toes. That was my mistake. Before I can even decide how to get around him, Dr. Gillespie rushes me. There’s no time for me to react as he raises his arms, grabs me by my shoulders, and shoves me hard.

  I stumble backward, my arms wheeling as I try to stay on my feet. Nope. I totally lose my balance, landing on my ass as I break some of the unexpected fall with my hands.

  Staying down on the floor while my deranged doctor looms over me is probably not the smartest thing to do. I push myself up, climbing back to my feet before moving away from him.

  He doesn’t come any closer. His smile only widens, like he’s pleased.

  There isn’t much space to wiggle around him. He’s about my height. A little bit stocky. The idea of him putting his hands on me has my skin crawling, but I’m willing to risk it to get out of here.

  Something stops me before I get within a few inches of the entrance. Self-preservation, maybe? My gut tells me to stop and, well, I’m so used to relying on myself, I listen.

  That’s when I notice the dirt on the floor.

  Spinning around, I see that the trail continues around the entire room. It looks like the debris left behind from when you salt your sidewalks to protect it from ice: glittering white crystals scattered with black specks. Or, even more simply—

  “What’s this?” I ask suspiciously. “Salt and pepper? Really?”

  “Looks like it, doesn’t it? It took me a long time to find something that would work against a halfling. Coarse salt mixed with iron shavings. Once someone with fae blood gets inside of the circle, there’s no getting out again without help, no matter how human they think they are.”

  I don’t know what’s worse: how casually he keeps discussing the fae as if it’s a foregone conclusion that I would agree with him, or that he somehow is certain that I’m a halfling.

  This just got a whole lot more complicated.

  “Go on,” he says. “Touch it. You’ll see that I’m telling the truth.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice. If he thinks I’m about to just take his word for it, he’s got another think coming. I was going to do it anyway, even though my special talent at being a human lie detector is telling me that he is actually being completely honest right now.

  I step closer, lifting my hand to the space between the doorjamb. So. Yeah. There’s definitely a resistance. A barrier.

  Dropping to my knee, I reach for the edge of the circle. It’s even more difficult. I push.

  The instant my finger comes into contact with the mix, it begins to sizzle against the leather of my glove.

  I yank my hand back.

  “Told you, Riley. Perfect place to keep an errant halfling who just doesn’t know how to stay put.”

  He keeps saying halfling like he freaking knows. That can’t be possible. I didn’t know until I was long gone from Black Pine. My hair is braided to cover the tips of my ears. No way he should know.

  “What do you mean, halfling?” I say, bluffing.

  “Part human. Part fae. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I know what you are and now? I’ve got you right where I want you.”

  Maybe I should’ve been expecting it. This room is obviously set up to be a prison just like the fairy jail he mentioned and, based on him having the necklace already, my old psychologist already knew more about the fae than even I did.

  Then again, how the hell was I supposed to guess that Dr. Gillespie was going to trap me in a secret room if I ever dared to go back to the asylum?

  This is crazy. It isn’t lost on me that this is happening in a glorified psych hospital, either, but this is nuts. He can’t do this.

  “Let me out. You can’t hold me like this.”

  “You’ve let the wrong people whisper in your ear for too long, Riley. Not only did they trick you into believing that the fae aren’t real, but you don’t know the rules, do you?”

  “Rules?” I burst out. “What rules? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against shoving someone in a closet and trapping them with magic salt.”

  “In the human world, maybe. When it comes to someone from Faerie staking their—”

  Their what?

  Dr. Gillespie stops talking. At first, I don’t know why, then I realize that two familiar voices are having a carefree conversation right outside of his office. It’s muffled, due to the closed door, and I might not be able to understand exactly what they’re saying, but I know who’s out there.

  Amy and Frankie.

  I open my mouth to scream. I don’t even care if I get in trouble over escaping the asylum all those months ago. The techs will help me get away from Dr. Gillespie. I’m almost positive.

  I take a deep breath—

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This is between you and me. They couldn’t stop what I have planned even if they tried.”

  I don’t want them to stop him. I just need a distraction.

  “Worthless humans,” sneers the doctor. “Not a drop of Faerie in either of them, not even a touch. You don’t want to involve them.”

  Just because they’re human, it doesn’t make them worthless, I think to myself. However, before I can come up with a retort, I must’ve given away my opinion on my face because Dr. Gillespie’s whole demeanor changes.

  “Ah,” he remarks, a gleam in his big, blue eyes. “Worthless to me, but maybe not so much to you.”

  I never see where he pulled it from. One second, his hands are empty. The next? He’s holding a switchblade that glimmers in the fluorescent bulbs. It’s gotta be at least six inches long. Pristine steel. A real sticker
.

  I gulp.

  This isn’t going to end well at all, is it?

  “Sit down, Riley.”

  I sit.

  “Good girl.”

  Patronizing ass.

  I bite my tongue. He’s already proven that he’s way more dangerous than I ever would have thought; if not dangerous, then definitely unpredictable. He has the knife.

  I keep my mouth shut.

  Once I’m down, Dr. Gillespie folds his knife, disappearing it into the pocket of his slacks. “See? I’m not an unreasonable man. I’ve told you all along that I’m here to help you. And I will. But first—”

  A knock interrupts him.

  With a warning look at me to keep quiet, he calls out, “I’m preparing for my next session. Is it important?”

  A voice like a frog croaking comes through. Nurse Callahan. “Sorry to bother you, doctor, but we have a patient on the third floor insisting you come to him. There’s a tech and an orderly sitting with him now, but he says he needs you. Can you fit him in?”

  Dr. Gillespie scowls. I can tell that he doesn’t want to leave me—even if I have no idea why—but that he’s also hesitant to turn the head nurse away.

  With a huff, he says, “I have a few minutes free. I’ll be right there.”

  Then, lowering his voice, he tells me, “I won’t be gone long. Get comfortable Riley. You’re not going anywhere for a while.”

  8

  It doesn’t take long for me to realize I’m fucked.

  He locks the door after he closes it. It’s pointless—after seeing him whip that knife out of nowhere, I’m not about to test him. I’ve got the blood of too many on my hands already. I love Nine. I really do. When I get out of here, I’m going to save him… but I won’t sacrifice Amy or Frankie or anyone else just to shave off some time.

  As soon as I’m pretty sure he’s gone, I pull out the “pay as you go” phone I bought in case this went sideways fast. I picked a pair of them up from the convenience store in Newport, one for me and one for Callie. I wanted to be able to contact my parents and, after a crash course in what a smartphone was and how they worked, I promised I’d call her if necessary.