 
# SHIMMERSPELL

A Faerie Tale Girl Novella

By Kimberly Spencer

Copyright 2011 Kimberly Spencer

Smashwords Edition

http://kimberlyspencer.blogspot.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author.

Cover Art by Claudia McKinney

Chapter One

"Ok, who can tell me the additive inverse of twenty-seven?"

Crickets chirped.

Mr. Tanner lifted his deep brown eyes from the textbook, staring over the rim of his glasses and out into the classroom as he scanned each row for a victim. Soon those shrewd eyes would fall on Jensen and then he'd pounce. He always did.

She held her head up, trying to exude confidence. But somehow he knew she hadn't studied over the break, knew she didn't know the answer. And that knowledge gave him a power he wielded mercilessly. "Well," he grabbed a broken piece of chalk from the blackboard, and walked around his cluttered desk, sitting on the edge, "since no one wants to volunteer, Ms. Mead—"

The bell sounded and Jensen released the breath she'd been holding. It was a close call too. If Tanner had put her on the spot one more time, she planned to walk out. Her sister Lauren would have been mad about it, but Jensen just couldn't find it in her to care.

"Homework for tomorrow is on page sixty-five. Odd numbers. And class, don't forget to show your work this time. I'd hate to have to give out anymore goose eggs."

Jensen dropped her books inside her khaki messenger bag, and slid out the door in front of two football players in a shoving match. If she'd stayed about a minute longer, Tanner would have cornered her and that just couldn't happen. He'd never yelled at her or anything like that. And had always been nice, in an overly concerned, yet non-pervy way. But, for reasons unknown to her, Tanner always knew when she lied. And that was just ... weird.

Jensen navigated through end-of-school traffic, finding her best friend Zoe waiting at her locker, fresh off a field trip to the Rolling Hills Science Center.

Zoe glanced up from her cell phone and smiled. "Ooh cute," she said, twirling her finger through the violet streaks in Jensen's bangs. Violet streaks that weren't supposed to be violet.

Jensen rolled her eyes. "Yeah right."

"No, it really is."

"Zoe, it's supposed to be pink."

"Your hair is too dark for that and I think it's cute this way." She crossed her legs and leaned against the locker beside Jensen's. "So, did you get it?"

Jensen swirled the dial on her padlock, avoiding Zoe's gaze. "Get what?"

"Come on, you know."

Of course Jensen knew. Most thirteen-year-olds had it by now and she'd just turned sixteen. Without it. She sighed and shook her head, wondering why she'd ever told the girl in the first place.

Zoe's eyes widened. "Really? I was sure you would've gotten it over Spring Break. Well, look at it this way, at least you don't have to deal with cramps yet or bloating. Or worry about ruining your brand new Vicki Secrets. Or have some Neanderthal steal your tampon and toss it around the classroom like a football." Her eyes darkened and she glanced away. "That's not very fun."

And apparently not something you could live down either. Even the teachers had taken to calling her Scarlett Rose now. And the name actually fit. Her eyes were green, just a shade darker than Jensen's, and her hair, the color of ... well, a rose.

Jensen put her pen in her mouth, opened her locker, and grabbed her sketchpad, sliding it into her messenger bag. "So you and Benji still on?" She needed to change the subject. Fast.

Zoe scowled. "Hell no! Can you believe the idiot forgot our anniversary? I mean, who does that?"

"Haven't you only been dating for like, two months?"

Zoe cocked her head to the side, staring up at Jensen like she had just flown in from another planet. "Yeah, but you're supposed to celebrate it every month until you've been together a full year."

Jensen raised her eyebrows, but said nothing else to incur Zoe's wrath. Once she got started on the Zoe and Benji show, there would be no timeouts or take-backs.

"Anyway, Mackenzie's party." Zoe angled the locker door and touched up her lip gloss in the mirror. "Are we a go?"

Jensen scratched her elbow, still chewing on the pen. Mackenzie, Jensen's lab partner, had invited them to a party at her beach house on Saturday, a party she'd never be able to attend. "Can't. Lauren wants to check out this art gallery in Tampa. And at some point, I'm supposed to practice driving on the interstate." The truth. Just not this weekend.

"Look, she has that pen in her mouth again," a raspy voice said. "I wonder what else she likes to put in there." Shrill giggles followed and someone slammed a locker door.

Jensen ground her teeth against the blue pen top, not needing to see the face that voice belonged to. The sugary sweet stench pouring off the girl said enough. Shelby. Zoe's twin.

She walked up beside Jensen, holding a bubblegum-pink scrapbook against her chest. "Zo, can we please go?" she asked, though it sounded more like a demand.

"I'll be right there," Zoe said, still staring in the mirror.

Shelby sauntered off, having accomplished her bitchy deed for the day. And one finger at a time, Jensen relaxed her fist. "I don't know what her problem is."

"In a word. You."

Jensen slid her pen into her messenger bag and started twisting her emerald ring around and around on her middle finger. "Zo, I've never done anything to her and you know it."

Zoe raised her eyebrows, sliding her lip gloss into her pocket. "Yeah you have."

"Ok, so tell me what I did then?"

"Well let's see." She tapped her chin, flicking her gaze upward. "You transferred here." That's all she would ever say, which both frustrated Jensen and endeared her to the girl at the same time. She had to hand it to her. No matter who did what, Zoe never played sides.

"Well, that was insightful."

Zoe laughed. "I do what I can."

"But seriously, don't be mad when I start fighting back." And she did mean fight, because so far in the game of social warfare, Shelby held down the lead with a whopping three to Jensen's zero. And that just wouldn't do.

Zoe smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "I won't." It was just that easy for her.

Jensen snapped the padlock back into place. "Well, you better go before the little witch has a hissy fit."

"Ok, text me later and be careful driving. I think it's supposed to storm all weekend."

"You worry way too much." The understatement of the year. The girl kept a gas mask and anti-radiation pills in her car. Just in case.

"I'm serious. Driving in bad weather is dangerous."

"Zoe just waking up in the morning is dangerous. And so is going to the bathroom. I mean, do you have any idea how many people never even make it out of bed? Or the ones who sit on the toilet and never get off?"

"No, and neither do you," she countered, walking backward toward the exit.

Jensen squinted her eyes and nodded. "Touché my friend. Touché."

Barking a laugh, Zoe backed into a boy wearing jeans so tight you could see the imprint of his balls. "Bye," she giggled, then out the door she went.

Jensen cut through the lunchroom exit, then walked around the side of the building to the back of the school by the auto mechanics building. Guided by the smoker's cough of the dusty blue Mazda-3, she strolled right up to the spot Lauren had chosen to occupy. A quick glance at the backseat had her frowning at her sister's continual disregard for her privacy. But it made no sense arguing over the Ipad. Lauren would only point out that she bought it, so it technically belonged to her.

Biting the side of her lip, Jensen yanked the door open and climbed inside.

Lauren stared in her pink studded compact, slathering on a bright red lipstick, not that she even needed it. With natural carmine tinted lips, Jensen could swear Lauren had been orally assaulted by a strawberry in a past life. "Hey Button; how was your day?"

Button—as in, cute as a button. Jensen hated the nickname. She shrugged and reopened her door, pulling her seatbelt inside. "Long. Boring. How about yours?"

She smiled and tilted her head to the side causing soft blonde curls to cascade across her shoulder. "More or less the same."

Jensen reached into her pocket for her cherry Carmex and immediately noticed the loss. "Shit. I left my cell phone."

"Language Jensen."

"For Pete's sake Lauren, it's just a word." And one of the tamer ones at that.

"And I've already told you; words have power."

Jensen rolled her eyes and shoved her door open. "Yeah, because saying the wrong one might just make me crap in my pants." Then she hopped out of the car and ran back toward the school before Lauren could respond.

Would she pay for it later? Yep. But it still felt good to push Lauren's buttons. Sometimes she seemed to forget they were sisters. Not mother and daughter. And besides, the last time Jensen checked, con-artists didn't make the best parental figures anyway.

Jensen found her cell phone right where she thought it would be. Tucked inside her pencil case, where she'd hidden it during a history quiz. With a smile, she closed her locker and snapped the padlock back into place.

But that smile melted away when she noticed a tall golden-haired boy staring at her questioningly. At first, she thought she imagined it, but his cerulean eyes continued to bore into her, unwavering in their intensity. Weird, especially when she'd never seen the boy before.

Refusing to be intimidated, she narrowed her eyes and returned an equally intense stare until she passed him. Surely, that'll get him to back off, she thought.

But no, the boy turned around, resuming his visual bombardment, the force of it burning a hole in the back of her head and making it difficult not to squirm.

Not wanting to turn into salt, she stared straight ahead, focusing on planting one foot in front of the other, while praying it didn't look like she had a stick shoved up her ass.

What the hell have I ever done to him? she wondered. Then a locker door slammed behind her and she decided she never wanted to find out.

Chapter Two

"Please tell me you're free tonight," Zoe said, leaning against the locker beside Jensen's.

Surprisingly, they had both made it to school early, running into Zoe's boyfriend Benji soon after. Jensen shoved some books into her locker, grabbed a water bottle, and pulled the cap off. "I don't know yet. Why?"

"Three words. Horror movie fest at the Luxe Theater," Benji answered, excitement blooming across his face. Sadly, that face was riddled with acne.

"That's like seven words, you idiot." Zoe shook her head and took a bite out of her Hello Kitty cake pop. "I'm sure it's gonna be lame. All ketchup blood and fake sausage guts. You should come."

"Yeah, it'll be fun," Benji added.

Zoe smacked his chest. "Fun to watch Benny here scream like a little girl. That's always fun to me."

Benji hunched his shoulders and laid his hand over hers. "How deeply you wound me." Then before she could stop him, he grabbed her other arm and bit into her cake pop, leaving only a tiny piece behind.

Zoe's eyes darkened. "Do you want me to kill you, Benjamin Stevens?"

He winced. "Sorry. It was an accident."

"So you're saying you accidentally ate my cake?" Her voice had gotten higher, squeakier.

He pouted and nodded. "I originally just intended to lick it."

Jensen giggled and Zoe scowled, pinching her arm. "Don't encourage him."

The bell rang, signaling the start of first period and bringing an end to another funny episode of Zoe and Benji.

Jensen pulled the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Well, I guess I'll see ya'll at lunch."

"Why of course, Jenny from the Block." Zoe wrapped her arm around Benji's, dragging him around the corner. "Come along Benjamin. We wouldn't wanna piss off dragon breath again. And when lunch starts, you're buying me a slushie to make up for being such a jerk-off."

"Whatever you say, ma love."

Thinking it best not to fall on her face today, Jensen crouched, tying her shoe. And that's when she felt it. That strange feeling you get when you know without looking that someone, somewhere is watching you. Mouth wide open. Heavy breathing. Hand down pants. She had the creeps.

"Already friends with the wrong people I see." The golden-haired boy leaned against the trophy case, his eyes fixed on her with the same ferocity from days before.

She straightened, raising her chin. "Funny, I don't recall trying to be friends with you."

He smiled then, though the severity of his gaze did not lessen. "You should stay away from them."

"Really? I'm thinking I should stay away from you," she replied, refusing to be bullied by anyone.

He shrugged. "You might be right. Question, who picked you up Friday?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "My cousin, not that that's any of your business." And because it's not your business, I have no reason to tell the truth.

Blue eyes churning, the boy stepped forward, closing the distance between them and blocking her path. Jensen didn't know how it happened, couldn't recall who challenged whom. But one second they were talking and the next, somehow locked in the ultimate battle of wills. A staring contest. And lamely, she blinked first. "I should get to class."

"You should."

Seconds passed before she found the courage to move, to turn her back on the strange boy, hoping he wouldn't stab her in it with a pencil.

She brushed past him, stepping once, twice before glancing back to find him already gone. As if his cerulean gaze had never existed. As if the heat of his body hadn't scorched her skin. And as if his nearness hadn't totally freaked her out.
***

"I don't know how I feel about this Jensen," Lauren said, her voice tense. "Just let me think about it, ok?"

Jensen sat in the grass, her head leaning against the trunk of a tall oak, her usual spot for lunch. She had called Lauren as soon as lunch period began, eager to fill her in about the movie fest. Now, that eagerness tripped, fell, and landed in a puddle known as regret as she held the phone to her ear, shocked that Lauren was on the verge of telling her she couldn't go. "What's there to think about? It's just a movie with some friends. Maybe some food."

"Since when do you care about hanging out anyway?"

"Since I was invited. Look, I just wanna see what it's like to go to the movies for once, with someone other than my sister."

Lauren paused for a moment, sighing. "I've been thinking it might be best for us to move on soon."

Jensen stiffened. She knew it would happen eventually. With Lauren being a con-artist, they never stayed in the same place for too long or used the same name twice. But knowing that still didn't lesson the blow, because this time, she had something she'd never had before. Zoe. "Exactly how soon is soon?"

Lauren hesitated. "I'm thinking we should start packing now."

Jensen slammed her fist down beside her, squashing an innocent donut she had yet to even taste. "Lauren, I never ask you to go anywhere. I'm going to this movie. We can pack tomorrow." She was whining now and a lump had formed in her throat, which only pissed her off more.

"Do you really think it's wise to get attached to these people? We cannot stay here forever."

"I don't care. I'm going to the movies with a couple of friends like a normal freaking teenager." She grabbed a napkin rubbing the strawberry jelly away harsher than she'd intended. "You know, you're not my mother, so you can stop trying to act like you are!"

"That may be the case," Lauren replied, her voice strained now, "but I am an adult and you are a child. What I say goes. Now, if you insist on going to the movies, I won't stop you. But I think it would be best if we leave when you get home."

Jensen laughed, but the sound held no trace of humor. "Home? Yeah right."

"What was that?"

Jensen blew out an angry breath. "Nothing. Leaving then is fine with me."

"Ok Button, I love you. And I'll see you when—"

Jensen pressed the end button and dropped the phone into her bag.

"Hey, mind if I sit down?" Zoe asked, her head tilted and her eyebrows arched in question.

Jensen moved her bag to the other side of her leg, not surprised she hadn't noticed Zoe's approach. "Be my guest."

"Everything ok?" Zoe asked, her voice soft and hesitant.

Jensen cleared her throat. "Yeah and it'll be even better if you tell me what I did to Shelby." Way to go Jensen. Project onto someone else.

Zoe frowned, placing her sack lunch on her lap. "Come on Jen. I already told you."

"And now you can tell me the real reason. What have I ever done to her?"

A sigh escaped Zoe's lips. "You transferred here."

"But I'm not the only new student, so it's gotta be more than that."

She nodded, removing the soggy tomatoes from her mayo drenched sandwich. "True, but you are the only one Liam seems to notice."

Jensen passed her a napkin. "Who?"

Zoe laughed. "Wow that just makes it so much worse."

"Makes what worse?"

Zoe tilted her head to the side, staring at Jensen as if she'd committed a grave sin. "You haven't even noticed him, have you?"

"Noticed who?" Jensen asked, hoping the second time was indeed a charm.

"Liam Casey. Her ex-boyfriend and the hottest guy ... well, second hottest guy in the junior class. They dated for like six months, then you showed up and the rest is Lakeside history.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Zoe shrugged. "You didn't ask the right questions."

"Describe him."

"Were you not listening? He's hot. Zac Efron hot, except, somehow managing to smolder a twee bit more."

"I need specs."

"Well let's see; he's maybe 6'2. Blonde. Blue eyes. A junior. And he's always staring at you like he can't decide if he wants to kiss you or kill you."

Jensen nodded. "Oh."

Zoe gave her a knowing look. "Ah, so you do know who he is Ms. Meadows?"

"Kind of. You had me at kill." Jensen sipped from her water bottle. "Shouldn't she take that up with him though?"

"Why, when she can just torture you about it? And besides, they broke up. You kind of lose the right to bitch someone out when you're no longer slapping groins."

Jensen coughed, choking on her water. "Language Zoe."

"What? It's true."

"Maybe, but it all seems kind of petty to me."

Zoe nodded. "As is the way of the high school years, which brings about my next question: What equally petty thing are you gonna do about it?"

"What makes you think I'm gonna do anything?"

Zoe held up her finger until she'd swallowed the bite she took from the sandwich. "Because I can see the wheels turning in that great big head of yours."

Jensen laughed. No one could ever say that Zoe wasn't perceptive. "I don't know."

"Don't know what? Benji asked, managing to startle them both. He dropped down beside Zoe, cherry slushie in hand.

"Well Benjamin Stevens," she said, snatching it away, "Jensen here is trying to decide how to get back at Shelby. My vote is for hooking up with Liam."

Jensen gasped. "Zoe!"

"What?" Zoe giggled and laid her head on Benji's shoulder. "You just might like it."

Chapter Three

The plan was set. Nervous excitement thrummed through Jensen's body, causing her bones to dance around in her skin, and making the act of staying seated almost impossible. She'd made up her mind to do the one thing Zoe probably wouldn't approve of: Steal the stupid pink scrapbook Shelby always lugged around. According to Benji, it was really a slam-book. And since she was dumb enough to bring something like that to school, Jensen was bold enough to use it to her advantage.

She glanced at the clock above Mr. Kelley, the history teacher's head. Twenty minutes left before class ended. Unable to concentrate, Mr. Kelley's take on the event that triggered World War I barely registered in her mind. Not that paying attention to his monotone account even mattered. She wouldn't be around to stumble through the test questions anyway.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Mr. Kelley asked, placing a new lecture sheet on the overhead projector.

Perfect timing. Jensen's hand flew up.

Mr. Kelley's dove-gray eyes widened and a smile stretched across his face. "Ok Ms. Meadows, ask away."

"Can I use the restroom?"

His smile flattened into a tight line. Motions clipped, he grabbed the tiny wooden hall pass from the podium and held it out to her.

Not meeting his gaze, Jensen took it from his hand and trotted outside the door.
***

Jensen pressed her back against the hunter green lockers and peeked around the corner. Her eyes met only closed doors, all except for the last classroom near the fire extinguisher. A choral rendition of "The Dog Days Are Over" filled the air, letting her know the glee club was practicing there. And since they were taking it from the top, she doubted anyone would be leaving the room anytime soon.

She eased forward, snagging her navy tank on the ragged hinge of a locker, ripping a tiny hole at the seam near her waist. She bunched the soft fabric in one hand, tore the thread away with the other, and allowed the tangled string to drift down to the cream and gray speckled tile.

After smoothing the tank back down, she tugged at the hem to inspect the damage. Tan skin peeked through the now thumb-size hole. "Great, just great." She took a deep breath and released the air in a huff, deciding to focus on getting Shelby's scrapbook.

Jensen strolled up to the locker and grabbed the single-dial padlock as if it were her own. She had never picked one before, but it couldn't be that difficult.

She pulled the hairpin from her bangs and tucked the overgrown black and violet strands behind her ear.

After shaping the pin into an L, she swirled the dial of the lock clockwise twice and shoved the flat side of the hairpin into the tiny hole, sliding the pin around.

She tugged on the clasp. Still locked. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she grew more frustrated with each passing second. What could I be doing wrong? she wondered.

There was no way she'd be able to stay in the hall much longer. Someone would come out eventually, then the dog days would truly be over.

She closed her eyes and laid her head against the locker, allowing the coolness of the metal to seep into her skin. She imagined her revenge. The black hairpin becoming a skinny bronze skeleton key, the four leaf clover bow cool between her fingers as she slid it into the newly formed keyhole.

A flame sparked in the pit of her stomach, the prickling heat spreading throughout her limbs.

She twisted the key.

Clink. Barely audible, but nonetheless, a clink. Her eyes flew open at the sound, her shock dragging her back to reality and causing the hairpin to slip from her fingers. The clasp had popped free, spinning away from the lock.

"Call me Ms. Lucky," she mumbled, reaching for the hairpin. As soon as her skin touched the metal, she yanked her finger back, shoving it into her mouth. The metal was hot.

Jensen thought it was weird, but pushed those thoughts away and opened the locker.

A wave of dizziness crashed down on her and she found herself leaning into the very source of her sour stomach. Her head throbbed like each lobe of her brain had entered a fist pumping contest.

She reared back and slammed the locker shut, backing away with her hand braced against the wall of metal for balance. She blinked and everything became more pronounced—the green of the lockers extra bright, the classroom doors an almost blinking white, like the world had suddenly gone HD and her eyes couldn't catch up.

Something was wrong with her, but she couldn't ponder that something for long. The sound of feet shuffling had her heart back-flipping in her chest. Unnerved, she turned to run, or more honestly, hobble to class, and slammed into a brick wall.

Liam. Except—not. The boy in front of her had pale pearlescent skin that shimmered underneath the overhead lights, his eyes no longer the cerulean she had come to adore, but a deeper, more vibrant blue that reminded her of giant sapphires. Tension lines bracketed his mouth, and his gaze darted up and down the hall as if he expected someone to show up.

Jensen found her eyes riveted to his face. She tried to count the number of hairs that made up his golden stubble, looking for something, anything to avoid dealing with the two things that had caused her breaths to come way too fast, and her palms to feel like she had dipped them in the ocean.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, voice just as strained as the cords bunching in his neck.

She shut her eyes. They weren't working anyway. But the darkness that followed only made her pulse speed up more, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. When she peeled her lids apart, she knew her sight wasn't the problem because they were still there, still peeking over his shoulders at her. Still fluttering. Wings. Liam had wings.

He cocked his head to the side. "Did you hear me?"

Her brain felt like mashed potatoes and her thoughts reflected the mush. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked what you're doing out here?"

Hallucinating. "I had to get something from my locker."

He looked behind her and frowned. "That's not your locker."

"How would you know?"

"Because I know. It's wrong to steal Jensen."

It's also wrong to be a vapid soul stealing whore, but nobody's chastising Shelby about that, are they? "That's not an answer."

"But it's the only answer you're getting. Why do you care anyway?"

Jensen crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, hoping the movements made her the picture of nonchalance. "I don't."

He laughed, but the sound lacked in the humor department.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Everything and nothing."

"Well good luck figuring it out."

"I doubt that'll happen with you around."

Jensen's eyebrows shot up. She never said she wanted to be around anyway. "And why is that?"

"Because looking at you is like falling into a black hole—stupid, confusing, and probably detrimental to my existence."

"Well, why don't you just hit the ground and fly?" Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth, tapping the stupid lips that had allowed the word to escape. "I mean, die already," she finished.

Liam's gaze widened and he closed the distance between them, his minty breath warm against her face.

Caught off guard, she stumbled backwards, slamming into the locker behind her.

Liam's hand pressed into her stomach, holding her in place while he gazed into her eyes, as if looking for answers to questions he hadn't voiced. Then suddenly, his hand dropped away, fisting at his sides. He closed his eyes and shook his head like he was trying to knock his thoughts through his ears. "Stupid," he muttered, the sound soft, but the meaning all the same.

"Oh, so now I'm stupid?"

He opened his eyes and reached up, bracing one hand on the locker beside her head, then offered her the most famous break up line of all time. "Not you. Me."

Something about his expression had changed. He smiled, just a sad twitch of his lips, but it almost seemed like he'd resigned himself to accept some miserable fate. He cupped her chin and leaned forward, his nose nearly touching hers.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she knew she wanted it. She would've given in, would've leaned into his lips—did in fact lean forward, but the sight of his right wing twitching above his shoulder had her hand flying to his mouth, and her body flattening against the locker behind her. "I need to get to class."

Without waiting for him to respond, she dipped below his outstretched arm and ran away, not looking back even once for fear his wing might twitch again.

Chapter Four

Jensen stepped in front of the Abstinence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder poster taped to the lunchroom door and goosebumps pebbled her arms. This part of the school was colder than usual.

With the smell of Pine-sol strong in her nose, she wasn't surprised by the grimy yellow "Watch your step" sign in the middle of the floor. Doing as it commanded, she eased by it, but stiffened at the sound of hushed voices. Not because students huddled together sharing secrets in high school hallways was abnormal, but because of the odd tone of this particular whispery exchange.

Shoulder to the wall, she peeked around the dusty trophy case and saw a boy with white blonde curls talking with a slim blonde girl, whose face Jensen could not see. Large iridescent wings fluttered on the boy's back and his skin had the same pearlescent sheen as Liam's. "What the hell are they doing here?" he growled, the area between his eyes pinched tight.

"I don't know," the girl replied. She shook her head, and soft spirals of golden hair cascaded down her shoulders. "Where the hell is Liam?"

"Seeing to Principal Rutland."

The girl grasped his arm, her other hand stroking his cheek. "We can't continue waiting love. We should go ahead and dispose of the body before any of the students see."

Jensen's hand shot to her mouth. They killed somebody. Maybe even Rutland. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, rattling her teeth. Could they hear it?

Holding her breath, she backed away running her trembling palm across the wall for balance. She slid into the lunchroom and eased the door shut, backing away from it with her hand clutching her chest. She had to do something, but what? Get the hell away from there, that's what. She reached into her messenger bag and pulled out her cell phone.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" a deep voice asked.

Terrified, Jensen spun around with her fists up, finding the janitor staring at her wide-eyed, his fingers rubbing against the opening of a new trash bag.

Without responding, she ran past him, shoving open the exit to the outdoor lunch quad.

Scrolling past the fast food restaurants she had added on her first day there, she found Lauren's number and pressed send.

Lauren answered on the second ring. "Hello."

"Some students killed Rutland," Jensen blurted out. "They're trying to get rid of the body and maybe I'm hallucinating or something, but they have these wing-things on their backs."

"What did you do?"

"I haven't done anything. Are you not listening? These three kids killed Principal Rutland."

"My God Jensen," Lauren said, her voice quavering, saying nothing else.

"I just told you someone killed the principal and all you have to say is "God Jensen." Aren't you gonna tell me where to meet you?"

Crickets chirped.

"Lauren?"

"No."

Jensen stopped dead in her tracks, the ball of her foot still raised on the ground while the word bounced around in her skull. "No? What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not coming. I'm sorry. I can't deal with this anymore."

"Can't deal with what? Look, I know we argued earlier, but—"

"There's some money in the bank. Go to the ATM and clean it out. Find somewhere else to stay for the night and don't go back to that school."

Jensen twirled her ring around her finger. "I don't understand. I'll walk home so we can—"

"Don't! I don't want you here anymore."

Jensen shook her head, her eyes burning. "But I didn't do anything," she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Stop whining! I can't take it."

"Why are you being like this?"

Silence. A silence that made everything else seem obnoxious. The bright green cicadas screaming their stupid little heads off. The horns of passing cars sounding like bullhorns during football season. Everyone else was noisily going on with their mundane lives, while hers quietly shattered on the dull gray pavement.

She dropped down at a lunch table to ride out the newest wave of dizziness. "Lauren, I know you're there. I can hear you breathing," she said, laying her head on the wooden table-top.

"I hope you can forgive me one day Button. Seek the order of the high wizard if need be and whatever you do, don't take off your ring." Then she hung up.
***

Jensen couldn't move, couldn't breathe, or see past the bold black words replaying in her mind.

I don't want you here anymore. That's what Lauren said.

She clutched her ring to her hollow chest, rubbing her thumb back and forth across the green gemstone. Her own sister didn't want to be around her. Burgundy lines on her cheek would've been better than that verbal slap in the face.

She dialed Lauren again, but hung up before it rang, sliding the phone back into her bag. Face to face would be better. Lauren might be mad, but she would never say those things to her face. Never.

Jensen found her feet beating against the pavement, then cutting through manicured lawns with hideous garden gnomes and small painted boulders.

A soft yellow light spilled from the crack in the doorway of the apartment they were renting. Yellows and grays painted the sky and a light drizzle filled the air with a fine gray mist of dreariness. Jensen hated days like this, when the sun's lazy ass wouldn't even try to pierce the cold grip of sadness shadowing the world.

Jensen grabbed the knob to push open the door, but a clammy white hand slid through the crack first, shackling her wrist. One that did not belong to Lauren. The scream welling up died in her throat when a very undead face wedged into the crack.

"There you are Ms. Meadows," Rutland said. "Your sister has been worried sick about you."

"Principal Rutland, I—"

"You just come along with me little missy," he said, attempting to drag her through the doorway.

Jensen looked at him then. Glazed eyes bulged out of a sallow face and ice cold hands sent painful chills through Jensen's body, causing goose bumps to sprout all over her arm. He still wore the gray pinstriped suit from earlier, except soot now covered the material. A lot of it. And he smelled bad. Like rotten eggs drenched in apple cider vinegar. "Principal Rutland, you're hurting me," she said, trying to pull herself free of his death grip.

Rutland's thick fingers bit into her arm and his face contorted in rage. "No sirree, I won't let this one get away."

Hitting him with her free arm, she braced her leg on the side of the door. "Let me go!"

He continued pulling, so hard that she screamed in pain. But that sound soon turned into a gasp of horror when a lance of light, no, a knife slammed into his chest. Right into his heart. Rutland released her wrist, falling backwards into the doorway, his glazed eyes still open, though life had already faded from them.

Jensen heard clothes ruffling and then suddenly, Liam appeared at her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Are you hurt?"

Jensen stared up at him, unsure if she should scream again or bury herself in his arms. His words finally registering, she shook her head no.

Liam's eyes swept her body, stopping on a scarlet bruise staining her wrist.

Jensen opened her mouth to speak, but a piercing scream silenced her, almost sending her to her knees.

A tall raven-haired girl stepped into view, a convincing Snow White, if not for the charcoal smudges all over her flimsy dress.

Jensen blinked away the girl's angelic appearance, the cold, flat eyes letting her know this chick was no nun. Instead of stepping over Rutland, the girl used his head as leverage, walking right across his body.

"Stay back Keira," Liam said, his voice colder than the corpse on the ground.

"And if I don't?" she asked in a creepy voice that made everything sound like a nursery rhyme. Before Liam could respond, she lunged forward, a blur of black and white whirling past them. She grabbed Jensen from behind, her ice cold fingers wrapping around Jensen's throat. "Looks like I win."

Liam's eyes became mere slashes in his face. "Release her now and your fall will be quick."

Keira's fingers tightened, almost touching her thumb. "I do not barter with children."

Jensen opened her mouth, but no air filled her lungs. Fireworks burst behind her lids and time seemed to slow to an excruciating crawl. Death—turtle slow and far more unpleasant than she had ever imagined.
Chapter Five

Jensen came up swinging as she was jostled awake by warm, calloused hands. Those same hands slid down her arms, pinning her wrists to her sides and forcing her to forego her attempts at slaying her captor. She cracked her lids, expecting to find herself a prisoner in a forest of pitted concrete and cold iron bars. But warm sapphire eyes stared down at her, filled to the brim with worry.

Liam furrowed his brow and released her wrists, brushing back the black strands in her eyes. "You're safe."

Jensen's hand flew to her throat. "Where am I?" she croaked, feeling like she'd swallowed barbed wire.

"My home. Do you remember what happened?"

Images filled her mind. Dead fingers squeezing her throat. Glazed eyes peering at her while a crimson tide oozed across a beatless chest. She shook her head, not wanting to go there. "Where's Lauren?"

"Who?"

"My ... cousin."

Liam's eyes filled with awareness, then he averted his gaze, focusing on her ring. "I know of no Lauren."

Jensen pushed herself up and swung her legs off the side of the bed. "I have to go."

"Where?"

She shoved a foot into a navy striped flat. "I don't know. Somewhere."

"Look at me." When she didn't comply, he reached down and tilted her chin, gazing into her eyes. "You will recall that you're staying with my family while your cousin's away on business."

She smacked his hand away. "What the hell are you talking about?"

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "I know things seem weird now, but—"

"Weird? One day you're normal and the next, you're walking around with a butterfly attached to your back. Then Malice in Wonderland tries to squeeze my head off, and you're calling it weird. This is beyond weird. Crazy, fantastical even, but definitely not weird."

Liam rubbed his hands down the middle of his face, pausing at his mouth. "Bad choice of words," he mumbled through his fingers, then headed for the door. "I'll be right back."

Jensen nodded, going through a mental list of places Lauren could be staying. Their last conversation rushed back to her, along with that terrible hollowness in the space where her heart used to live.

Her sister didn't want to be found, didn't want to be around her anymore, like she was this terrible burden to deal with. And with that, Jensen didn't know what to do. For a moment, terror welled up inside of her.

Forgetting Liam had left, she turned back to ask what the hell was going on and met a closed door. She wrapped her fingers around the knob, pulled it open, and eased into the dark hallway. Voices carried up the stairs, soft but understandable.

"Are you sure you did it right?" a boy's voice asked.

"Of course I did," Liam replied. "It's just not working. The girl is Two-Sighted."

"How can that be? She wasn't before," the boy said.

"Well she is now."

"Liam, humans don't just wake up with Sight." A girl spoke now. "They either have it or they don't. There's no gray area, no in-between."

"She sees through my glamour, ignores my compulsion." Liam's voice sounded solemn, distant.

They hurled the word human like it was a disease, one they didn't share. What the hell were they?

Someone moved. Fabric ruffled and shoes clacked and scraped against hardwood. Shit. She was going to get caught eavesdropping. Desperate to get out of sight, she ducked through an open door and eased it closed.

There had to be hundreds of books in the room, bindings in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Though she wanted to scan the back cover of each and every one, her eyes refused to budge from the old leather tome sitting on top of a bronze pedestal in the center of the room.

Jensen couldn't tell if it was a family cookbook, or a book of shadows, but the promise of secrets hidden within piqued her curiosity. She ran her fingers across the intricate wing design embossed on the cover and pulled it open, careful not to rip any of the fragile pages. Thees and thous taunted her, but like a child, she ignored the writing and focused on the pretty pictures. Beautiful, gossamer winged beings danced across the pages, their faces forming expressions of pure delight.

Jensen's breath caught in her throat. Winged beings. Like Liam. Abandoning her plan to be gentle, she flipped through the pages, halting when she came across a word written in bold black ink: Unseelie.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Liam said.

Jensen spun around, her hand flying to her chest.

Liam's eyes burned like swirling blue flames as he walked forward, annihilating her personal bubble. He raised his arm.

She flinched away. But all she felt was a light breeze on the back of her neck as Liam flipped through the pages of the book. She found herself sighing in relief, since the only weapons she had were wobbly knees and an untested right hook.

She pried her lids apart, looking at him closely.

He was cute, in a crazy winged-thing sort of way. A faint scar slashed through the end of his left eyebrow. Golden stubble dusted his chin making him seem older, rougher than the baby-faced boys at school. A short, spiky fohawk finished the look.

"What are you?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He didn't respond, simply motioned for her to turn around.

She glanced back and gasped. Long pale hair framed a heart shaped face, one very much like her own. Running her finger across the image, she traced every curve more from memory than sight, knowing exactly where each dimple should be.

The young girl wore an unflattering beige dress, probably stuffed with feathers at night to rest her head. Either that or she used it to lug around potatoes. Solemn eyes stared out at her. Though the paper was colorless, she knew that those wide eyes were a shade lighter than that of the morning sky. Beautiful eyes. Lauren's eyes.

Beneath the image was an unfamiliar name written in sprawling letters as if the person in question had been deemed undeserving of perfect penmanship. "Lorelei Le Fae," Jensen mumbled aloud, the words tasting wrong on her tongue. Le Fae? The Faerie?

"The only child of Morgen Le Fae," Liam whispered, his arms trapping her between the warmth of his body and the cold, bitter lies of the book. He flipped the page again, this time going backwards, leaving Jensen bereft for the face she knew better than her own.

A pale-haired woman with a face just as beautiful as Lauren's, maybe even more so, stared out at her, her eyes colder than a ice storm and more calculating than a mathlete on X. Morgen Le Fae, Betrayer of Camelot served as the caption.

Jensen slammed the evil tome shut. It was clearly a dark book of shadows, warded to hurt those not meant to read it. "You're trying to tell me you're a faerie? That Lauren's a faerie, and that she's somehow related to the woman who brought down Camelot, King Arthur's sister? Liam, that's pretty gay."

"I'm trying to tell you the truth. Whether you choose to accept it is up to you. But Morgen was not Arthur's sister."

Jensen closed her eyes, rubbing her brows with her thumb and forefinger.

Liam's fingers wrapped around her arm, his thumb rubbing the spot above her elbow. "You know the story of Camelot?"

Her mind at war, she could only nod. She wanted to crown him the king of tall tales, but in the end, she couldn't. How else could she explain his wings? Or how she was still alive?

Words began to pour from him as if her answer had never mattered. "Morgen's interference in mortal dealings ended the Pendragon line. The Seelie Court could not allow such a thing to happen again. There had to be a punishment for all involved, including the Lady of the Lake, the emissary between our realms."

"Vivian," Jensen mumbled, remembering the name from the movies.

Liam nodded. "Morgen's older sister. As punishment, King Auberon barred Vivian and Nimue from entering the Isle of Man for a period of sixty years, Arthur's age when he died, and exiled the betrayed to the Isle of Ash. Her daughter remained with Vivian in the Isle of the Beloved.

Liam paused, clenching his jaw so tight she feared his teeth would soon shatter. His knuckles blanched as one side of the bronze pedestal curled under, causing the tome to fall from its perch. "But 1500 years after the death of Arthur, Vivian was murdered and her Shimmerspell, lost to us."

"Shimmerspell?"

"The power to move between our realms. Auberon is able to create temporary rifts, but the Lady could keep them open and shimmer as she pleased."

A shaky hand covered her mouth as she tried to make sense of the story Liam told. "I don't see what any of this has to do with Lauren."

"Who do you think let Morgen into Vivian's home?"

"Not Lauren."

Liam ducked down and grabbed the book, flipping through the pages. "Are you trying to deny that this is your Lauren?" he asked, holding up the photo of the solemn girl.

"It is, but it isn't." Jensen backed away, her finger pointing at the picture. "I don't know that person. My sister is not a faerie. She's a con-artist. That's why we move around so much."

"I don't know how "your sister" conned you into believing she's human or the horrors she's inflicted upon you, but she—"

"She hasn't done anything to me. Our mom died and Lauren raised me. All by herself. She didn't have to do that. She could've let me go into the system."

"So where is she now?" a girl asked suddenly, stepping into the room.

Jensen spun, coming face to face with a life size version of Tinkerbell. She was tall and slim, with blue eyes, the same shade as Liam's. Glossy blonde hair fell from her ponytail in golden spirals, and iridescent wings flapped stiffly behind her back.

"Fiona," Liam scolded.

She shrugged. "What? I wanna hear all about this wonderful sister of hers. What name is she going by now? Lauren?"

"Get out!"

Fiona's eyes swept Jensen's body, sparkling when they reached her hand. "Ooh nice ring. Give it to me."

Jensen twisted her arm behind her back. "When hell freezes over and Satan passes out popsicles."

Fiona tilted her head to the side and barked a laugh. "What the hell did Lorelei do to you?"

"Get out Fiona!" Liam yelled.

"She's so fucked up; she doesn't even know she should be afraid."

Jensen stepped back, bumping into Liam.

"I said get out now!"

Fiona waved her dainty hand through the air, grabbing the door knob with the other. "Fine, I'll let you two have your moment. But you and I are gonna have ourselves a little chat later on chickadee." She winked and closed the door. "Maybe I can help you find out if Lucifer has any more popsicles," she yelled from the hall.

Liam sighed. "She's just talking. No one's gonna touch you."

"Why should I believe that?" And why should I trust you?

"Because faeries cannot lie.

Jensen tilted her head, staring at him in disbelief. Everybody could lie. Some just lied better than others, she thought. "Not at all?"

"Nope. And if I wanted you dead, I would've let Keira finish you."

"Then you'd be good and dead" hung in the air, thicker than formaldehyde.

Jensen crossed her arms, hugging herself. "Who was she?"

"Fiona's my sister."

"No, Keira."

"One of the Moirae, a follower of Morgen. They liken themselves to the Greek Fates.

"But how is she here? I thought you said faeries aren't allowed in the human world."

"That ruling meant nothing for the solitary fae already in the Isle of Man."

"Oh. So your family already lived here?"

He shook his head. "When the Lady died, all hell broke loose, so to speak. The fae already living in the mortal world picked sides. Some remained neutral, but many chose Morgen. King Auberon dispatched the Sidhe Guard to the Isle of Man to keep sentry over the mortals, eliminating any threats that arose.

"And you're a member of this Guard then?"

Liam nodded. "As were my parents and grandparents before me."

"Where are they now?"

He cleared his throat. "In the Isles on business."

"So what did they do—I mean, the ones who sided with Morgen?" She didn't attend school often, but she would've remembered hearing something about a human-faerie war.

"Let's just say, certain human plagues were faerie related."

"Oh. Well, thanks for the history lesson." Jensen grabbed the doorknob.

"Where are you going?"

She shrugged. "I guess I'll figure it out when I get there."

"And what if one of the Unseelie finds you first?"

She grimaced, remembering her run-in with Keira. "I've lived sixteen years without even knowing faeries existed. Why are they after me now?"

His blue eyes bored into her, searching. "That's what we'd like to know."

"I think it's safe to say that I haven't the slightest idea."

"When was the first time you saw through my glamour?"

Jensen's cheeks heated. "In the hallway during third period."

"When you ran off?"

She nodded, deciding her hands were the most interesting hands she had ever seen. Big, fat knuckles and nails, bitten off and some quite dirty. She dropped her hands, shoving them into her pockets.

"And before that?"

"You didn't have wings."

"So what changed?"

"Hell if I know. I see you one day and you're semi-normal I guess. I see you again and you have this big ass butterfly attached to your back. So I'd have to say you're what changed weirdo."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Not weird. Fantastical, remember?"

"Whatever."

"So what were you doing out there in the first place?"

"Getting something from my locker."

Liam snorted, scratching the back of his head. "Then what?"

"Then nothing." Jensen shook her head. "I felt dizzy and nauseous, and then you showed up. Hey, if you're this powerful faerie soldier, why don't you just make me see whatever you want?"

He averted his gaze. "I would if I could."

"But you can't?"

He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head.

"Why not?"

"For starters, compulsion doesn't appear to work on you. Why didn't you scream in the hallway?"

Jensen shrugged. "I figured if you really did have wings and no one was supposed to know, screaming "hey everybody, this kid has wings," probably wouldn't be the smartest thing to do."

Liam smiled. "Probably not."

Chapter Six

Beautiful wickedness all around, but Jensen couldn't tear her gaze away from the little green boy soaring through the air, buck naked save for the hot pink diaper covering his ass. She and Liam were at H2O, the hottest club in Rolling Hills. So hot in fact, fae were known to frequent it from time to time, mingling with unsuspecting mortals.

Girls wearing body paint danced in golden cages dangling from the ceiling. Alternating strips of bamboo and mirror decorated the far wall behind the bar. Another wall made of intricately carved stone served as a floor-to-ceiling water fountain. But Jensen couldn't focus on any of that, with stupid cupid flying around. Only hours had passed since she'd found out faeries were real, and now she was already being harassed by one of them.

"Ignore him," Liam kept saying, but that was easier said than done when the green-thing kept soaring by, running his tiny fingers through her ponytail and pulling the strap of her tank down.

"Why are we even here?" she asked, ducking when the pixie reached out again. One more time and she was going to knock him on his ass.

"Because Brennen is here."

Her eyes scanned the room, preparing for the next assault. "And who is he?"

"Someone who can help us figure out why you've become Two-Sighted."

Jensen shifted on her feet. "How is this supposed to help me find Lauren?"

He glanced over at her like she was the dumbest person in the world. "Doesn't the timing of her disappearance strike you as odd? You can't tell me you haven't thought about it."

Yep, she'd thought about it all right, had replayed their last tete-a-tete a dozen times in her mind. Her begging Lauren to save her from the big bad killer with wings. Lauren chunking up the figurative deuces. But that was all just a horrible coincidence. Lauren was tired of playing momma to someone else's child, even if that child was her own sister.

Jensen tore her gaze away, but not before catching skepticism etched into Liam's face. "I don't see what the big deal is anyway. I'm sure there have been other humans that could see through your faerie dust." Yes Jensen, change the subject.

"The ones that do don't live long," he replied.

Jensen stiffened as shivers slithered up her spine. "I thought you said you were sent to protect us."

His eyes cut to her, probing and all business. "To protect humans, we must first protect ourselves. No one can know what we are."

So what did that mean for her? She hadn't said anything about his winged status, well, except to Lauren. She wouldn't say anything to anybody else, but that didn't mean he'd just let her go.

She tore her gaze away and focused on scanning the crowd, but everyone looked like sheep. Sweaty, shitfaced sheep. "What should I be looking out for?

"Nothing. Brennen will come to us when he wants to talk."

A Latin-tinged beat poured through the speakers, winding through the air like a python. Strobe lights pulsated over the crowd, highlighting pink hair and boobs bursting through see-through tops and too small bras as glitter rained from the ceiling, grafting to every inch of skin it touched.

Liam grabbed Jensen's hand, tugging her through the throng of sweaty club kids to an empty spot near the water fountain.

Jensen loosened her ponytail as she swayed in front of him, her thick hair tumbling across her shoulders in a mass of waves.

Liam brushed it back, his warm breath tickling her neck as he pulled her tight against him.

She met his eyes.

He licked his lips. And Jensen shivered, this time for something other than fear. Something new and overwhelming and bad ... very, very bad. This faerie boy, this "our secret must be maintained at all costs" spouting soldier was so not the best person to be crushing on when she was the one who could shatter his glimmerglass world.

She averted her eyes, but not quick enough to stop the little green-thing's next attack. He swooped down, grabbing a tiny handful of her left boob. She smacked the little pervert into a boy with a nickel-sized, black gauge in his ear. And that's when she saw him.

They say Lucifer was one of the most beautiful angels God created, pre-Devil stage of course. If that was the case, this kid must have been his faerie doppelganger.

A handsome boy with pale blue eyes, a lean build, and that same pearlescent skin she'd found to be common amongst the fae. He had spiky blonde hair with thick black strands right above his ears. Realizing his creeping had been discovered, the wickedest of smiles stretched across his handsome face, exposing pearly white, pointy teeth.

Jensen's heart stuttered at the sight. She squeezed Liam's hand, refusing to look away from the weird faerie boy, knowing he'd disappear as soon as she did. A smarter part of her knew he could probably disappear in less time than it took her to blink.

She knew the exact moment Liam spotted him. His body stiffened and the air around them seemed to vibrate with anger. He stalked toward the boy, his hands pumping open and closed at his sides. "Brennen," he bit out, tone lashing at the faerie. "You'd dare use compulsion on mortals."

The boy cocked his head to the side and laughed. "Only enough to get the kiddies dancing. You seemed like you were enjoying yourself," he said, wagging his eyebrows.

"You know the rules."

"And you as well, but that hasn't stopped you from delighting in a morsel, ahem, I mean, a mortal." Brennen one. Liam goose egg.

Liam opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off before he could utter a word.

"Before we get down to business, how about we take this somewhere a little more private. Wouldn't wanna break anymore Seelie rules." He rolled his eyes and spun on his heel, not sparing them a second glance to see if they had followed. Of course, they would follow. They needed him.

Brennen took his seat behind a large desk, propping his leather covered legs on top and knocking over a wire canister filled with pens. "Now to what do I owe the honor of your company?"

"I need you to read her."

"What for?"

"Because she's Sighted and I need to know why."

Brennen focused on his matte black nails. "I'm sure you're aware some humans are born with Sight."

"She wasn't."

He looked up then, his eyes roving up and down Jensen's body before cutting to Liam. "Interesting, but I don't see what I get out of helping you."

"How about our eternal gratitude?" Jensen asked.

Brennen snorted. "Can this gratitude you speak of buy me a 4Dtv?"

Liam popped his jaw, and the sound echoed in the small office. "What do you want?"

Brennen lifted his gaze to the ceiling, tapping his chin as if he was seriously considering his options, though it was clear he'd known what he wanted from the moment he saw them. "There may come a time when I call on you. You will come to my aid, no questions asked, and no penalties given."

Liam nodded. "Agreed."

"Very well." Brennen's eyes jumped back to Jensen. "Sing."

Her brows bunched together. "Sorry, what?"

"You heard me girl. Sing."

Oh no. "What for?"

"Because I said so."

Jensen turned to Liam, grabbing his arm. "Tell me this is a joke."

"Brennen is siren. The only way he can read you is through song."

Well, that explained his lack of wings. "But ..."

Brennen lifted his hand, palm out flat. "Enough with the twenty questions; touch your eyelid with your tongue."

Jensen just blinked.

Brennen rolled his eyes. "Either you sing or leave. Your choice."

Jensen glanced at Liam again, the hard expression on his face telling her there would be no going for option number two. She would sing or he would probably kill her. "What do you want me to sing?"

Brennen smiled. "You know, I've been feeling that Beiber kid lately, but you can sing whatever you want."

Jensen concentrated on her feet, mortified over what she had to do. With nothing else coming to mind, she warbled through the chorus of "Somebody to Love," managing to mangle the words and butcher the melody. The heat from her cheeks spread to her neck and she was sure the tip of her nose could now give Rudolph a run.

Brennen grimaced. "Wow. Am I the only one who feels a bit awkward now?"

Jensen closed her eyes, rubbing the back of her neck. "Not at all."

"What did you see?" Liam asked, his words more demand than question.

"Nothing."

Liam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I saw nothing. As in, empty space."

Jensen scratched her forehead. "Ok, so what does that tell you then?"

"It tells me this read is way above my pay grade. You've been worked over by some serious juju girl." Brennen swung his legs off the desk, then leaned forward resting his elbows in their place and his head in his hands. "Take her to the twins."

Liam sucked in a breath. "Are you out of your mind?"

"No, but they are." Brennen raised his hand, halting Liam from interrupting. "And they're also the only ones with the power to cut through that wad of magickal red tape."
Chapter Seven

Jensen rubbed the back of her arms as they walked through the cemetery Brennen had sent them to. "It's deserted."

Liam arched an eyebrow as a quizzical expression came over his face. "Were you expecting a rave?"

"Of course not. I just mean no one's taking care of the graves." The air smelled of rot and stone and she could even taste the metallic tang on her tongue. Dead leaves and dried flowers littered the grounds. Those same leaves would catch in the wind, ticking across stone from time to time. Moss wrapped around stoic angels, binding their wings. The gate creaked and Jensen nearly jumped out of her skin, twisting around to see if they were being followed.

Liam grabbed her by the hand. "It's just the wind."

Well why did it feel like something more? She glanced up and shuddered. A crow perched itself on top of a crooked headstone, its beady eyes peering at them. She had always hated those disgusting creatures, and the way this one sized her up was beyond creepy.

Unnerved, her hand tightened around Liam's. "Why does your sister hate me?" Good job Jensen. A question based on facts that have nothing to do with the bird that wants to eat your brains.

"Fiona hates all humans. It's nothing personal."

"Caw-ah-ah!"

Jensen couldn't stop herself from glancing back at the crow, with its blackened eyes still locked on them.

As they passed a rotting oak tree, the crow swooped down and landed in front of them. It tilted its head back and let out a screech that could've brought life to ashes, along with one hell of a postmortem headache.

Liam wrapped his arms around Jensen, pulling her back.

Another bird flew behind them, its wings outstretched and its beady eyes glowing red hot. Then they got bigger. Much bigger, nearly rivaling Liam's size. Then the crows burst apart.

As black feathers floated in mid-air, suddenly standing before them were two tall twins with shaggy black hair, gray skin, and harsh protruding cheekbones.

"It appears we have visitors brother," one said, the jagged scar beside his eye the only way to tell the two apart.

"I see," replied the other. "State your purpose for being here or go." While you still can, went unsaid.

"Magicks have been used to give this girl Sight," Liam said. "Powerful magicks. We were told you would be able to provide a reading for such a case."

"By whom?" the scarred twin asked.

"The siren Brennen."

The twins glanced at each other for a moment as if they were speaking telepathically. "Very well, where is our token?"

Jensen blinked. "Your what?"

"Our token. Surely you have brought us one."

"For all who enter must pay the piper," the other twin added.

Of course Brennen hadn't mentioned anything about it.

Liam reached into his pocket, pulling out a burnished red and brown billfold wallet.

"Foolish child. Do we look as though we care for the currency of man?"

Nope. Jensen doubted they needed any money to look like The Blues Brothers threw up on them. Hell, they probably just raided the graves. She shuddered at the thought.

Liam wet his lips. "I am of the Sidhe Guard. Provide the reading and I'm sure Auberon will be more than willing to provide you with a suitable payment."

"Oh look brother, now the child wishes to barter, based on the gratitude of a king who cursed us to ruin."

Uh oh. Jensen grabbed Liam's arm, trying to tug him backward. "Maybe we should just go."

The scarred twin shook his head as a smile crept across his face. "I'm afraid the time for that has passed little girl."

Everything happened so fast. The scarred twin lunged forward, his claws raking down the side of Liam's face. Liam shoved Jensen to the ground and unsheathed his blade, only to have it kicked away by the other twin. His hands wrapped around Liam's neck before one hand slid to his chin and the other to the back of his head. The perfect position to twist.

"Wait!" Jensen screamed, raking at the dirt and overgrown grass scratching her skin. How had the situation gotten so out of control? It took everything for her to stand up and raise her hand for everyone to see. "I have this ring. It was my mother's. Let him go and you can have it."

"Ah, a token," the twin holding Liam said.

"Give it to me," said the scarred one.

Jensen gulped. "Not until you let him go."

The twins stared at her as if they could see right through her. Could hear the ebb and flow of blood gushing through her veins. Could tell how hard it was for her to stand still when Liam's sapphire eyes begged her to become one with the wind. And for a moment, she could swear she heard them speak inside her head. "Brave one," they agreed. She shook it off just as the twin shoved a coughing Liam forward. "Very well."

Jensen glanced down at the ring, hesitant to hand it over. She knew it wasn't a real emerald in the antique gold setting, knew it probably cost less than a hundred dollars at the local JCPenney. But it still meant something to her. A precious connection to the mother she never had and her only source of comfort when the sister who'd raised her had just up and disappeared. And yet, she'd gladly give it up if it meant saving Liam. So why did the simple act of pulling it off feel like she was tearing herself in two?

Her fingers circled the band, twisting and wiggling the tarnished metal past her knuckle. Bile crept up her throat. Jensen found herself hoping Liam had the strength to carry her, because with the way the world teetered around her, she expected to eat dirt real soon. Pulling the ring the rest of the way, she tossed it through the air, and watched as it whirled by Liam, hitting the chest of the twin behind him before it thudded to the ground. He hadn't even tried to catch it.

Three sets of eyes stared back at her, one filled with shock. No, not shock. Horror.

She had done something wrong. There must've been some weird faerie custom for handing off the token and she straight quarterbacked it to him. How could she be so stupid? "I can pick it up," she started, but as she spoke Liam's eyes widened more, becoming somewhat wild.

Jensen stilled. "What?"

He didn't answer, just continued staring in that same dumbstruck way. At least now he had managed to shut his mouth.

"What is it? What did I do wrong?" she asked.

"She does not know," the scarred twin said.

"She cannot see," added the other.

The icy grip of terror clawed at her chest, demanding entrance. Her breaths became ragged, labored. And Liam remained silent the whole time.

"Say something," she pled.

The scarred twin stepped forward, his gray hands rubbing together in a strangely convoluted criss-cross motion. It was hypnotic the way he moved. His fingers would touch his wrist, slide down his palms, then switch sides, starting the process all over again. Wrist. Palms. Switch. Wrist. Palms. Switch. Making that same strange bird sign before pulling his hands apart, revealing a mirror of thick liquid between them.

An aura of power rolled off of him. He was power. Ancient faerie power. He and his twin had bested Liam, had garnered both Brennen's awe and fear, and had, at some point, managed to royally piss off the King of the Seelie Court.

Still, Jensen stumbled toward him, one foot in front of the other until only inches remained between his powerful hands and her face. And through the wavering looking glass he held, she saw what had horrified Liam.

Faint golden shimmers melting into blue along the hairline. Tiny green gems embedded along the temples. Large pointy blue ears parting through thick coal black hair. Wide set aquamarine eyes framed by thick black lashes.

The screams started in the distance, harsh and shrill like a child realizing the boogie man stood at the foot of her bed.

Jensen blinked, finding herself on the ground beside a crumbling grave marker. Kicking up grass and fake flowers, she fought for distance between herself and the creature. Liam knelt beside her, grabbing at her arms. The twins rushed forward, taking advantage of her madness. And through it all, the screams continued, until her throat trembled violently, her cheeks felt like she had been crying acid rain, and all she knew were the agonizing cries of her own self loathing.

Chapter Eight

Jensen sat in the center of the platform bed, armed with nothing more than her ring, a white plastic hand mirror, and the tome from the study. No special costume or cape. No trusty sidekick to solve the mystery so she could claim the credit. Over and over she slipped the ring from her middle finger, watching in manic fascination as her reflection shifted in the dusty mirror.

It had been two days since she first saw the strange girl behind the glamour, since she learned the azure of her hairline continued all the way down to her pinky fingers and pinky toes, and she was still struck stupid each time she witnessed the change.

"Damn it, are you even listening to me?" Fiona stood by the window, drumming her orange nails on the edge of the birch desktop.

"Yeah, yeah sure." Faerie. Human again. Faerie. Human again.

"So what did I say?"

Faerie. Human. "To disregard everything you said."

Fiona let out a huff of frustration and mumbled something in another language.

Jensen's eyes popped up at that, taking in the golden wings flapping stiffly behind Fiona and felt her lips stretch into something between a smile and a wince. A smince. "I'll do better this time."

To be honest, listening to Fiona was important. She was Jensen's only ally now, rallying for her to stay in the guestroom, when Liam couldn't stand to look at her anymore, and Eiden couldn't seem to look away, constantly watching for her to do something Unseelie like steal the silverware.

But Fiona considered it a tax write-off since Jensen was a dumb bunny, with no clue how to be a faerie. And there was no way to fake that kind of stupidity. Her words.

She was partially right; the faerie thing was a no-go, hence the last minute cram session on Glamour 101.

"Like I've said for the thousandth time, close your eyes and picture the gems disappearing one by one. See only the gold and the blue, the smooth skin ..."

"Got it. Smooth skin, no gems."

According to Fee, those gemstones made Jensen Seelie, since only nixies of the Seelie court possessed them. Eiden quickly pointed out that black hair was the defining mark of the Unseelie, while Liam mumbled something about green eyes being boringly human.

Then Fee agreed she'd never heard of a faerie with green eyes, and added that no faerie, Seelie or Unseelie, would be caught dead in homemade cut-off shorts.

"Oww." Jensen rubbed her head as the wooden paddle brush bounced off her head, landing on her knee. "What the hell Fee?"

"You were doing it again."

"Doing what, you witch?"

"Staring in that stupid mirror. You're a nixie; it's not gonna change, so get over it."

"Actually, when I put on this nifty ring-a-majig, it does change. See? Faerie. Human."

"Jensen, we only have four hours before the party and we still have to go over the different species."

Jensen shook her head. "I don't see why we're going to a stupid Unseelie party in the first place." Because that definitely won't make me look any better in Liam's eyes.

"It's not Unseelie. It's neutral. And we're going because Cecelia will be there."

"Who?"

Fiona's blue eyes darkened. "The bitch that tried to hook up with Eiden."

"Ok wait. You're dragging me to this party because some girl hit on your boyfriend?" And probably scored.

She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin, daring Jensen to say something against her. "Exactly."

Jensen averted her gaze. Tinkerbell could be downright scary at times.

"Besides," Fee said. "It's a win-win situation if you ask me. I get to confront the whore and you get to follow-up that cryptic text message."

"What text message?" She hadn't gotten any texts, besides a few from a very worried Zoe. And boy did Jensen check. A lot.

"Whoops. Guess no one got around to mentioning that yet."

"What text message?" Jensen repeated. If she had to ask again, she would scream. It was coming, already boiling up inside of her.

"Something about seeking the order of the high wizard."

Jensen's hand tightened around the mirror and her mouth settled into a tight line. "You're telling me I got a message from Lauren and I'm just hearing about it now?"

"No, I'm saying you got a message from a restricted number which could've been sent by anybody."

Jensen ran her hands through her hair. "So why are you telling me all this now?"

Fee shrugged. "Cecelia's screwing someone from the order so if you learn how to glamour yourself, we can grill him at the party."

A brilliant idea, if Jensen could manage to ignore the fact that she'd be surrounded by a bunch of crazy faeries, including the one standing in front of her.

Jensen heard a crack, then shattered mirror clanked together on the flowery gray duvet. Smince back in place, she tore her gaze from the reflective shards, and met Fee's twinkling eyes.

"One more time nixie and that's gonna be your ass."
***

After another two hours of studying the various species of fae and an hour of shopping at the Rolling Hills Galleria, Jensen stood at the pier behind Fee's house. She could already feel the ends of her hair frizzing against her back and the turquoise halter-dress she wore, clinging to her skin with the salty stickiness of sweat.

She glanced over at her partner-in-crime. Fee stood unmoving as she stared out into the murky water, her blonde hair pulled taut into a messy ballerina bun, with tiny diamonds twinkling from each swirl. Even in the darkness, her hair was beautiful, a golden beacon in the moonlight highlighted by the frilly yellow dress she wore. She met Jensen's eyes and smiled, then reached into her sparkly cream clutch, pulling out two vibrant pink stones.

"What are those for?"

"Watch and learn my little nixie." Fee shook the shiny rocks in her hand like dice and tossed them into the lake.

A circular ripple followed each splash, followed by another and another as the area spread outward. Within seconds, a crater of pink froth gave way to the glassiness of a fish bowl, or rather, a faerie bowl. Smiles and giggles clashed with looks of malice in powdery white faces. A slim pale hand reached out to capture a brown and black speckled claw. A flowing skirt of roses twirled about, exposing the red stained teeth hidden within a bloom. The whole scene, beautiful and horrendous at the same time. What the hell was Fee dragging her into?

Breathless, Jensen's eyes rushed back to the faerie in question.

Fee stared at the scene with longing, as if it were everything she'd dreamed it would be. Was this really about confronting Cecelia or something more?

Jensen cleared her throat. "What now?"

Fee pulled the antique gold chain of her clutch to her shoulder and grabbed Jensen's hand, linking their fingers. "Now, we jump."

Chapter Nine

Taking the leap was nothing like Jensen expected. No sopping wet hair obstructing her sight, no see-through fabric molding to her skin or bunching up around her waist, and no killer fish swarming around her in a frenzy. The journey to the faerie ball was surprisingly water-free, like stepping out of the desert into an air conditioned paradise.

Rows of cherry, peach, and apple blossoms lined the walls, alternating with thin panels of etched glass that revealed the happenings of an underwater kingdom behind the ornate wings of a faerie.

Flickering green and gold will o' wisps bounced about in the air above two wooden tables, overflowing with honey cakes and steaming buttermilk. Wooden plates of rosy-pink flowers mixed with some kind of cheese-wheel shaped fruit were accompanied by a large crystal plate filled with plum-size blackberries, a punch bowl of a chunky brownish liquid, and goblets of wine with violet blossoms sticking out like umbrellas.

Thick knobby fingers scraped the base of a goblet toward the edge of the table, sloshing red liquid onto the floor before lowering the cup to a mouth overshadowed by a bulbous nose. A tiny blue-haired sprite fluttered around the dwarf's green cap, plucking a violet petal away and popping it into her mouth, before scampering off.

"Where the hell am I?" Jensen whispered. Not even in her most fitful, sugar-induced dreams, had she imagined such a place existed.

"The Isle of Mermen," Fee said, reverence spilling from her words. This explained the bright orange eyes glaring through the window. Fee pressed her hand to the glass as if she could reach through and caress the mermaid's face, then pulled back, giving the creature the one-finger salute.

The spicy scent of saffron tickled Jensen's nose as three little girls in golden dresses twirled around her, singing "Ring Around the Rosie." As Jensen stared at their smiling faces, twinkling gold eyes blackened and thick blonde curls grayed, thinning to just a few coarse strands before shifting back to normal.

Jensen gasped, shoving their tiny hands apart and stepping from the circle. Who knew what would happen if she let them finish their song?

Pouting, the little monsters rushed off, surrounding a winged boy with blackberry juice all over his blue lips.

Fee tapped Jensen's shoulder, her eyebrows raised as she held out a goblet. "Drink up; you'll need it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means relax and have fun. And this my dear," she said tapping the goblet, "is the stuff to get the ball rolling."

Try to have fun in a place where nothing was what it seemed? Jensen sighed, taking the goblet with both hands. Maybe Fee was right. Maybe she should just enjoy herself tonight and worry about everything else tomorrow.

The first drop of wine twisted her tongue, almost like drinking balsamic vinegar, but the more Jensen gulped down, the sweeter the dark red liquid became. Soon, the base of the goblet pointed toward the ceiling as she reared back, gulping the wine down.

Fee giggled, tugging at the stem. "Whoa girl, I didn't mean drink it all at once."

Jensen shrugged, warmth swirling in her chest. "Am I sweating?"

Fee barked a laugh, dropping the goblet onto the table beside the others. "Come on chica, let's dance."

But before they could take more than two steps from the table, a deep familiar voice growled, "Fiona."

Fee turned around, a tense smile plastered across her face. "Fancy seeing you here."

Jensen stiffened, not sparing a glance to the Isle of Mermen's newest arrival. She already knew who it was, could feel his sapphire eyes taking in her backside.

Liam stepped behind her, so close they were practically touching. "I can't believe you would bring her here."

So it wasn't enough to just ignore her. Now he wanted to blame her for bringing Fee to the party too. Huffing to herself, Jensen reached for another goblet, only to have it moved out of reach.

"I think you've had enough," Liam whispered.

That's it! Jensen spun around, pressing a wobbling finger to the center of his chest. "Good thing you're not paid to think or we'd all be in trouble."

Not waiting for a response, she grabbed a wide-eyed Fee, pulling her past a brownie bouncing around on a pogo stick and two banshees in Victorian dresses, braiding their long red hair on a pile of dirt.

Fee tugged her arm free. "Ok, not that I don't appreciate being rescued back there, but where the hell are we going?"

"To dance."

"Well, we should stop walking then."

Jensen frowned. "Why?"

"Look around."

Girls in swatches of gold and burgundy silks flicked their wrists as if screwing in light bulbs, while a leprechaun bounced from one mud covered foot to the other. A dark-elf wearing a saber-toothed necklace waved his hands through the air like a symphony conductor. A green-haired undine and two selkies clapped their hands in perfect synchronicity, while glowing salamanders hopped through flames of dripping candlesticks—their tails pulsating in bright orange welts. All of them, dancing to a satyr playing a vulture-bone flute and a pixie strumming wildly on a fiddle as he balanced himself atop a two-legged stool.

Some movements, a graceful unwinding of triple jointed limbs. Others, staccato and brusque like a series of karate chops. And none of it what Jensen considered dancing. Spazzing, maybe. But dancing, no.

Still, she kicked off her sandals and dove into the fold, determined to lose herself in the crush of inhuman bodies. Her fingers splayed toward the sky. Her weight shifted to pointed toes. And then she was spinning, a prima ballerina twirling around and around with the rest of her company. She could dance forever, would dance forever, she decided. And then she laughed, cackling so hard that her stomach ached and tears formed in her eyes.

That is, until hands gripped her shoulders, yanking her from the dance floor. "What do you think you're doing?" a haggard old man growled at her.

"What does it look like dirty old man?" She tried to wiggle free, but the man continued holding her, forcing her to remain still when all she wanted to do was rejoin the dance.

"Where is your mother?" he asked.

"Where is your mother?" she mimicked, giggling.

The man grabbed her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Jensen Ava Reilly, I command you to wake!"

The words clawed at her skull, scratching their way past her urgent need to return to the dance. In an instant, her vision cleared, the remaining slivers of fuzziness sweeping to the outermost edges of her mind. Eyes no longer clouded, she glanced around and her breath caught in her throat.

The fiddle playing pixie lay sprawled across a table, his throat gaping wide while thick green blood spilled into a bronze basin held to his neck by a boggart. The elf with the strange necklace stood beside him, clutching his stomach in a fit of laughter. Teeth no longer dangled from his neck, but the bones of human fingers tied to a twisted and bloodied string.

Across the room, Fee argued with a dryad, most likely Cecelia, while a frustrated Liam and an amused Eiden fought to keep the two apart. And all around them, the Unseelie unfurled from the cover of shadows, hateful satisfaction evident in their smiles.

It was going to be a bloodbath. Jensen backed up, stepping on the man's foot. "Who are you?"

"That's not important. You have to come with me now Jensen."

"Why, so you can kill me in private? And how the hell do you know my name?"

For a moment he looked taken aback, but he quickly recovered, lowering his glamour and allowing her to see the man hidden underneath. A human with black hair and aquamarine eyes that just a week before, were a deep, almost chocolate brown.

Jensen gasped. "Mr. Tanner, what are you doing here?"

"We don't have time for catching up Jensen. This is about to get bad. We need to leave before it's too late."

Jensen shook her head, stepping away. She didn't know what was going on and couldn't afford to trust anyone in a room full of tricksters. "Not without my friends."

"I'm afraid you've chosen the wrong time to be a hero little girl."

Oh God, I need a way out of this, Jensen thought. Her stomach burned and her skin prickled as the world spun around her in grays and pinks. And almost in unison, the ocean churned out billows of soapy foam, thrashing against the faerie glass. "Look, I'm not going anywhere without my friends."

Tanner looked over her shoulder and frowned. "Then be quick about it and make sure all of you are touching. No matter what, no one must let go."

Jensen could only nod, her throat too dry to speak.

He reached up as if to touch her hair, but stopped himself, letting his hand fall away. "Go on now."
Chapter Ten

All Jensen needed to do was make it past the dozens of fae wanting to get close and personal with her internal organs. That didn't sound too hard. After all, she had already managed to make it across the corridor once without having any of her blood spilled on the dark brown soil. So why was her heart thudding in her chest, palms slick with sweat, and head throbbing? And why did each step feel as though she was trudging through quicksand?

She took a deep breath, letting the air seep through her dry, parted lips. Then sucked in another and another, forcing those to pass in that same painful slowness. She felt too alert, too conscious and her skin buzzed with fear. Yet, she forced her back to straighten and her face to blank as she walked past two hobgoblins, a pooka, and a group of fae who looked like they had been pieced together from the bodies of various animals. Ten down; about two dozen or so more to go.

She slid behind three trolls just as one caught a sprite, clapping his humongous hands together as if the tiny red faerie was nothing more than a fly. Jensen gulped, averting her gaze.

A handsome boy with twisted seaweed for hair stood beside Cecelia, begging her to follow him. With hooded eyes, she took his hand.

Jensen's heart stuttered in her chest, but there was no time to worry about the dryad with Liam and Fee in danger. She eased by a bloated spriggan holding an ax to the neck of a white-faced leprechaun hurriedly removing all the gold from his pudgy fingers. Just a few more steps and –

"Where do you think you're going nixie?" said a dark-elf. His long white hair parted down the center into two thick braids, as bright red beads dangled on one side.

Jensen cleared her throat. "To play with the Seelie of course; where else would I be going?"

A siren stepped in front of Jensen, her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And what makes you think you get to be the first?"

Jensen put her hand on her hip. "I don't know; maybe the fact that I'm the one who brought them."

The girl arched an eyebrow and continued her interrogation. "That's funny. I've never seen you around before; how did you come to know of the ball?"

Jensen shrugged, glancing at her nails. "The siren Brennen told me."

The girl scowled, her eyes glowing violet with outrage. "Brennen would never do such a thing!"

Jensen's eyebrow shot up. "Are you calling me a liar?"

The girl's face fell flat. "Of course not. Everyone knows a faerie cannot speak an untruth."

"Well then, get out of my way."

"First," the dark-elf gripped her arm, "how did you convince them to follow you?"

"Easy," Jensen said. "The girl tires of the human world and would much rather be in the company of her own kind. All I had to do was mention the ball and she begged to come along. Of course, the boys followed to see to her safety."

"And what a fine job they've done," a banshee said, the beautiful misery of her voice causing everyone to flinch away.

The dark-elf cleared his throat, clearly feeling the effects of the banshee's voice. "Clever girl. Tell me nixie; what are you called?"

"N-nessa."

"Well Nanessa." He reached into his leather waistband, pulling out a strange looking dagger with a hilt that ended in two disks shaped like human ears.

For a second, Jensen thought she'd said something wrong, done something to give away her true intentions.

But the dark-elf switched the blade around, handing her the hilt. "Do save some for the rest of us."
***

With a smile, Jensen accepted the dark-elf's offering, tightening her grip on the hilt of the dagger until her knuckles turned white. She had gotten what she wanted, a semi safe path to her friends and a weapon to boot. So why did everything up to that point feel like paint by numbers compared to what she had to do now?

Swallowing all thoughts of running away, she forced herself to turn around. And yep, there it was written all over Liam's face and etched into the hard lines of his body. Seething. Violent. Hatred. In trying to convince the Unseelie that she was one of them, she had managed to make him believe it as well. Stupid, since she now needed his trust more than ever.

Lifting her chin, she put one foot in front of the other until she stood just outside the range of his blade. She wanted to beg him to believe that she was good, tell him that none of this was her idea, but all she could allow herself to say was "Do you trust me?"

He snorted. "Not on your life." Yep, he hated her all right.

Though she had expected far worse, she couldn't help but feel like she had just been kicked in the gut. Still, she found herself speaking again, this time with much more confidence. "What about on hers?" She pointed the tip of the dagger toward Fee.

"I can't believe I ever thought we were friends," Fee said, her voice low, shaky.

Jensen winced, but managed to stand her ground. Don't whimp out now. "Lower your blade or I'll use her pretty head as a Jack-o'-lantern." There, she'd said it. Now the ball was in his court.

A whimper escaped Fee's quivering lips. And right before her very eyes, Liam's hatred morphed into full, unbridled rage. His knuckles blanched as he lifted the blade higher.

Jensen gulped, having to stop herself from stepping back.

He wanted to kill her and for a second, she thought he would try. But very slowly, he bent his knees, lowering the blade to the ground between them. "Happy now?" he bit out through clenched teeth as he straightened.

Jensen kicked out her foot, dragging the blade close enough for her to stand on it. "Ecstatic. Now be good little elves and join hands. We're all going to play 'Ring Around the Rosie.' "

Fee gasped.

Eiden wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tight against him. "The first time I saw you I knew you were trash, but have you no honor?"

Like he knew anything of the subject when he couldn't seem to keep Mr. Happy in his pants. "Not a drop. Honor is for losers who live to tell the tale of having their asses kicked. And this dagger in my hand says that I prefer Team W, now do what I said."

"You're pathetic." Eiden's tone lashed at her, his words dripping with disgust.

"And you're about to have all the blood drained from your body, so shut up."

All around Jensen, the Unseelie laughed, taunting the light-elves and egging her on to do what she had already threatened. Tiring of her game and eager for blood to be spilled, the dark fae crowded forward and she knew that if she didn't hurry up and get to the point, they would soon turn their attention toward her.

Fee's eyebrows bunched together. "Let's just do what she says." She reached out, grasping Liam's hand, then did the same with Eiden's.

Good job Fee. Focusing on Liam once more, Jensen lifted the dagger. "Now give me your hand."

Liam laughed, but unlike the Unseelie, there was no humor in the sound. "You couldn't pay me to touch you girl."

"Do it Liam," Fee said, her words rushed.

"Yeah Liam, do it or I'll make you wish you'd fallen into a black hole for real. And you and I both know I don't lie." Come on Liam. Read between the lines.

Ridges formed between Liam's golden brows as he stared at Jensen with his head tilted to the side. And in the depths of his gaze was a never-ending question, though his lips allowed just one word to pass. "Never?"

Unblinking, she shook her head. "Never."

With that, Liam released the breath he'd been holding in a rush. "Then I should probably do what you say." He lifted his hand, palm side up.

Biting back a sigh of relief, Jensen laid her hand on top of his, curling her fingers over the side of his palm.

"What the hell kind of trick is this?" the siren yelled.

Jensen smiled as she stepped beside Liam and faced the Unseelie. "The kind that proves just how good a faerie can lie."

A blast tore through the Isle of Mermen, tossing its inhabitants to the ground and leaving confusion and madness in its wake. Guttural screams of agony soon filled the air along with the foul stench of charred flesh, burning wood, and sulfur. Ash drifted to the ground, dressing the Isle in a bootlegged version of a winter wonderland. And through it all, Jensen and the light-elves remained rooted to the ground, the small circle of soil where they stood somehow untouched by the blaze.

Chaos became king. A tiny fiery faerie frantically pecked through a pile of dust formerly known as the will o' wisps. A banshee wailed at the top of her lungs as blood red tears streamed down her soot covered cheeks. A dark-elf clawed at the ground, its headless body still determined to get to the light-elves. And in the midst of all the death, the ash, and the debris stood Jensen's Algebra teacher, Mr. Tanner.

His hair, disheveled. His clothing, torn. Blood seeped from a cut at his hairline and ash whitened the strands above it, but other than that, he looked fine, strong even. "Keep holding hands," Tanner said, his voice, strangled and distant though he stood just a few feet away.

Jensen coughed. Smoke thickened the air around her and she hated the idea that she likely tasted someone else's death each time she took a breath. "Who are you?" She recognized something familiar in him, a strange sense of rightness she just couldn't place or stop herself from trusting, no matter how stupid she felt for doing so.

Like those cursed by Medusa, Tanner remained still, his expression tortured as if a war was being fought inside his chest and each choice ripped at his soul. For a second, he met Jensen's gaze and she thought the pendulum had swung in her favor. Then the panel of etched glass behind her shattered and the ocean came rushing in.

Chapter Eleven

Jensen sat hunched over her desk, staring down at the black screen of her disassembled cell phone as salt water dripped from her hair onto the wood floor.

Ten minutes before, she and her friends had been swallowed up by that very water, then flipped and tossed around like nothing more than rag dolls.

Jensen thought they would die. Not her. Them. Because apparently, nixies can breathe underwater. Just something a girl learns when her heart is beating way too fast to think with a clear head, and she'd rather take a deep breath of ocean water than watch the guy she likes die right in front of her.

But they had managed to survive, somehow finding themselves back in the mortal realm at the end of the pier. Now they could all live happily ever after. Except her.

The idea of a fairy tale ending seemed almost inconceivable to Jensen, since hers revolved around finding a sister who didn't want to be found. Her heart clenched every time she thought about it. And to make matters worse, she no longer had a way for that sister to get in touch with her, even if she wanted to. Her cell phone had been resting against a pack of spearmint in Fee's clutch when the ocean decided to crash through the Isle.

Hope making Jensen stupid, she'd turned it on and watched in horror as it flashed the white screen of death.

She rubbed her sore eyes and sighed. Maybe her phone would work again once it had enough time to dry out. Anger surging, she balled up her fist and slammed it down on the desktop, causing the back cover of the phone to rattle. But that only made her feel like shit. Here she was upset over a stupid cell phone, when one person didn't make it back from the Isle of Merman. Tanner.

"Knock, knock," Liam said, using his shoulder to push the door open. His hands were full, each holding a coffee mug. "Bad time?"

Jensen relaxed her fist and stood up, shaking her head no. She didn't want to talk about it. At least, not right now.

Liam arched an eyebrow, but said nothing more, opting to simply hand her one of the coffee mugs.

The yummy scent of hot cocoa and melted marshmallows drifted to her nose and she smiled. "Thank you." She sat down at the end of her bed and took a sip.

Liam nodded, sitting down beside her. "You changed back."

She glanced up from the mug. "Sorry, what?"

He placed his mug on the floor, then reached out, running his finger across the green gemstone in her ring. "You put it back on."

"Oh." She shook her head. "Yeah, I figured we've all had enough of the nixie for one day."

"About earlier—"

"There's no need to explain."

Liam smiled, just a sad twitch of his lips, but it instantly turned her heart to mush. "Yeah there is. I should've trusted you from the beginning."

"All that matters is that you trusted me when it counted." Once the words came out, she realized just how much she meant them.

Liam closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. He was serious—too serious for her liking. For some reason, not trusting her back in the Isle of Mermen bothered him, even though their safety hinged on his believing she was Unseelie.

She laid her hand on top of his, willing him to let it go. "It's fine Liam. Seriously, I get it. I'm a good liar. What can I say? It's a gift."

"You're so much more than that to me." Liam flipped her hand over and traced the lines of her palm before lifting it to his mouth and planting a kiss in the center. "I couldn't stand the thought of you being like them. If you were Unseelie, what did that say about me for wanting you?" He glanced up, pinning her with his gaze, and in its depths was a quiet desperation she had never seen there before. "Because I do want you Jensen."

All she could do was stare back at him. He wanted her. It was one thing to think he liked her, but to know it for a fact was mind-blowing. Had her mouth not been full at the time, her jaw would've been touching the floor. Realizing she probably looked like a blowfish, she swallowed the cocoa, sending it down the wrong pipe. An uncontrollable coughing spell followed, causing her to jerk the mug around.

Liam flinched away, grabbing the mug and setting it down before she could do more damage. "You ok?" he asked, staring at her as if he expected her to drift away in the wind like the seeds of a dandelion.

Besides being very close to death by lethal embarrassment? Yeah, she was just fine. "Mmm-hmm." She patted her chest and cleared her throat. "It went down wrong. Sorry about that."

Liam brushed her hair over her shoulder and started rubbing small circles at the center of her back. He was so close. And his touch felt just right, dizzying even through the sleepshirt separating the pads of his fingers from her much too sensitive skin.

She laid her head against his neck and could smell the freshness of his soap. The heat of his body warmed her, and she found herself wondering, though not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss him.

All of a sudden, Liam tensed. "Did you hear that?"

She sat up, straining to hear. "What? What did it sound like?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, the space between his eyebrows pinched. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Jensen stood up. Had they been followed? No one else had been on the pier with them. But someone could've been hiding in the water, watching and waiting for the chance to attack. "Maybe we should—"

She never got to finish. Liam grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. And then his lips were on hers.

Though her mouth opened automatically, Jensen was in shock—just not nearly enough to stop her from kissing Liam back. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his spiky hair.

And almost as soon as it began, their tender kiss came to an abrupt end, shifting into something fevered and desperate. Liam knotted his hand in her hair, bending her backwards, while his lips trailed kisses to the little dip in her collarbone. When his stubble scraped the side of her neck, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out loud. Her knees felt weak and her breaths became ragged. Her heart hammered at her ribcage, and she could feel his heart pounding too.

Liam's hand slid underneath her sleep-shirt and she shivered, only mildly aware that she wore nothing beneath the oversized tee, but a pair of cotton boyshorts.

Liam kissed her breathless, with the kind of passionate urgency she'd only ever seen in the movies. This was it. That perfect movie kiss. And she knew once it was over, her lips would be swollen, her tongue, tied as if with string, and the rest of her, screaming like a banshee for more. She thought nothing could ruin the moment, until ...

A pajama wearing Eiden burst into the room, his white-blonde curls disheveled and his eyes puffy. "Uh, you two might wanna get out here."

Jensen expected him to follow up with some kind of snide remark, but he kept his mouth shut. Odd.

"What's wrong now?" Liam asked, though his stormy eyes were still locked on Jensen.

"Your father is back, with the Sidhe Guard."

Liam looked up then, his eyes darkening. "How many?"

Eiden winced. "All of them."

Chapter Twelve

Jensen stood at the top of the stairs as the entire Sidhe Guard glared at her from below. They wore taupe racer-front tank tunics that looked like they'd been put on backwards, the matching pants with drawstrings at the puffed out bottom, wing imprinted wrist bracers, and boots that resembled folded dried leaves.

Some had quivers strapped to their hips with white and gold feathers fletched to the arrows they held. Others had holsters on their legs for additional blades. And Jensen guessed that most, if not all of the warriors, could kill their prey without a weapon at all.

Battle-ready didn't come close to describing them. These weren't faeries returning home to care for their children, but faeries returning home to slay the monster that ate their children. And by the hostile looks on their faces, she was guessing they believed she was that monster. She, who had never eaten a single child in her whole entire life.

"So the rumors are true." A woman broke the silence, the only member of the guard without wings. She stepped in front of the others like she was used to being in command. A thick fringe bang stopped just above her icy blue eyes, the weight of which had Jensen fidgeting uncontrollably.

"I'm not sure what rumors you speak of?" Liam said, coolly.

The woman smiled then, a smile that didn't come close to meeting her cold, flat eyes. "Oh, such modesty. Let me be the first to commend you on such an extraordinary feat. No one has ever been able to do what you three have done."

Liam offered the woman an equally fake smile. "Nimue, you're far too kind. But I'm afraid such praise may be a bit premature. We've done nothing yet to deserve it."

Nimue, as in, mistress of the lake Nimue? Jensen swallowed twice, suddenly feeling bile rising in her throat.

Nimue's smile drooped and her eyes darted to Eiden. "Is this not the girl you spoke of? The Nixie?"

"She is," Eiden hesitated, "but she isn't." He rubbed the back of his neck, appearing more confused by the second.

"She's not Unseelie," Fee said firmly.

"Was she not raised by Lorelei, believing them to be kin?" Nimue asked.

"Yes, but she knows better now," Fee said.

Nimue stepped forward and all the warmth in the room disappeared. "Did she not trick you into going to the Isle of Mermen, placing your life in mortal danger?"

Fee shook her head. "Look, this is all just a big misunderstanding and if you would just listen to us, you would see that."

Nimue's eyes darkened, somehow becoming colder. "It is you who misunderstands child. And you would be smart to mind your words around those far wiser than yourself."

Fee opened her mouth, then seeming to realize who she was up against, shut it without saying a word.

Jensen stared in disbelief, having never thought she'd see the day when Tinkerbell backed down from anybody.

"Step away from the girl," a male elf said suddenly. He was handsome with deep blue eyes and pin-straight, golden locks that skimmed his shoulders.

Liam's hands fisted at his sides as he eased forward, angling his body in front of Jensen. "Father, if you would give me a moment to—"

Disapproval shone in the older elf's eyes. He raised his hand and Liam fell silent. "I think you've said enough already. This girl was raised to believe that she and Lorelei were sisters, but that is an untruth."

"And she knows that now," Liam bit out through gritted teeth. His whole body had tensed. His wings flapped stiffly behind him and his demeanor reminded Jensen of a rubber band on the verge of popping.

Nimue's tinkling laughter filled the air, bringing to mind the image of an alley cat attacking a sleigh bell. "I surmise she has known it all along."

With that, Jensen found herself wondering if an insane asylum somewhere in Faery was missing a patient. Irritation making her stupid, she stepped from behind Liam, meeting Nimue's gaze. "And what would make you think that? You don't even know me."

Nimue's smile deepened, but there was nothing even remotely kind about the look in her eyes. "How could you not know?" she asked, icily. "After all, you're her daughter."

Then Eiden's fist smashed into Jensen's head, before she realized he had even moved.
***

Jensen awoke to find her arms tied behind her back and the rest of her body crying out in agony. Cold concrete pressed into her face, adding a painful chill to an already dull headache. Dampness coated her wrists letting her know that iron had been used to bind them. Without looking, she knew that dampness held a crimson tinge.

Darkness clung to her like a second skin and for a moment, she wondered if this was the place faeries went when they died, a nowhereland where they would suffer in solitude. Then a smarter part of her pointed out that dead faeries wouldn't feel pain, while she, on the other hand, was currently pain's bitch.

After laying there for a moment longer, she bent her knees and pulled herself up into a seating position, her stomach lurching soon after.

A light flickered across the room and her gaze lifted. The blurry yellow orb swung back and forth in slow half circles. A will o' wisp? It took a few seconds and about a dozen blinks for her vision to adjust, then she found herself staring at a blank-faced Eiden. She gasped, jumping and banging her head against the wall.

Eiden leaned cross-legged against the opposite wall, with a strange looking crystal swinging from his wrist. The fiery will o' wisp inside squealed its tiny head off as it bounced around, casting shadows across Eiden's face that made him appear horrible and beautiful at the same time. "Oh good, you're awake," he said, dryly. "It shouldn't be long now."

Jensen blinked. "What shouldn't be long?" Her voice was so hoarse it came out as nothing more than a whisper.

But instead of answering, Eiden offered her his back, banging on the door beside him.

"Eiden, what's happening?" Jensen hated how desperate she sounded, begging for information from the very elf who betrayed her. But she had little choice in the matter. He was the only one in the room who wasn't knocked out while plans were being made. "Eiden please."

The door swung open and Eiden stepped out, not looking back even once. "Your fate will be decided soon," he said in an emotionless voice. Then he slammed the door behind him, casting the room into total darkness.
Chapter Thirteen

A couple of hours passed before anyone showed up again, hours Jensen spent fighting to keep Nimue's claims from invading her thoughts. Allowing herself even a moment to toy with the idea of Lauren being her mother meant she would have to accept the fact that her own mom didn't want her. That hurt too much to even consider. Lauren was overburdened, inherently flawed, and beyond complicated. But damn it, they were sisters, no matter what some crazed faerie carrying around the oldest grudge in history had to say about it.

Jensen sighed and leaned her head against the damp cement walls. She could barely smell the mildew anymore, though a bitter taste remained in her mouth. Everything about her prison cell pointed to it being a basement. She just couldn't figure out if she was still in the mortal world or locked up somewhere in Faery.

She closed her eyes, and pushed those thoughts from her mind, realizing it would do no good to get herself worked up about the what-ifs. But just when she decided to let herself drift off into a world where her arms weren't bound behind her back, the door creaked open and in walked two of the Sidhe Guard.

Contempt glowed in their deep blue eyes along with something else Jensen couldn't identify. Without saying a word, one of the light-elves leaned down and sliced through the bindings at her wrist. "Walk or be carried," he said.

Not liking how he spat out the word "carried," Jensen braced her arm on the wall and got up on wobbly legs, trudging out the door behind them. Two more guards took up the rear and her breath hitched in her throat. The whole scene just screamed "dead girl walking" and she hoped they weren't leading her to some kind of faerie electric chair.

Her calf muscles burned as she followed them up a steep flight of stairs to a doorway leading outside. The sun had set, painting the sky in strokes of orange and denim blue, and she wondered, not for the first time, how many days had passed since she'd been locked away.

The scent of rain on the horizon filled her nose as the wind ruffled her hair, blowing tangled strands into her face. She reached up to brush them back and a gasp escaped her parched lips. The iron bindings had burned her wrists, leaving thin bracelets of bright red blisters in their place. Her hands were filthy and her pink sleep-shirt looked like it had been dipped in car oil.

"Keep walking!" a guard ordered, shoving her so hard she almost fell over the squiggly, exposed roots of a longleaf pine.

She was in a dense forest of entangled trees and underbrush now. Odd looking leaves in shades of green, honey orange, russet, and yellow ochre drifted to the forest floor from gnarled branches that looked like long, skinless fingers.

The Sidhe Guard and other allies of the Seelie Court had gathered in a large ring of grass surrounded by red and white spotted toadstools. Within earshot, she could hear the murmuring. "Unseelie," they called her. "Dark Nixie. Granddaughter of the betrayer." But many didn't utter a word, the disgust scrawled across their faces saying more than enough. Enemy. Guilty.

Jensen stepped into the clearing and the restless crowd parted, revealing a small mound of dirt by an ancient gnarled maple. A much smaller tree, covered in tiny clusters of blood red berries and leaves that resembled the feathers of an eagle, had somehow taken root and seemed to fly out the middle of the maple's trunk.

Her eyes darted from face to face, never finding Liam's sapphire eyes or Fee's glossy blond spirals. But Eiden stood beside their father, the one eye that wasn't swollen focused on the ground.

And with a sudden dreadful clarity, his words finally sunk in. That empty mound of dirt was where she'd be standing. The Seelie Court was putting her on trial.
***

Nimue clasped her hands behind her back while she took a cursory stroll around the silent crowd. No matter how far she walked, her voice carried loud and clear over the howling wind. "The blood coursing through this girl's veins is that of the betrayer. She would have us believe she is ignorant of the ways of the Unseelie. Therefore, I've decided to gift her with the opportunity to prove where her loyalty lies." Nimue turned around, eyeing Jensen pointedly. "Tell us what Lorelei is planning."

Jensen blinked up at her, amazed that no one else seemed to notice the wildness in her eyes. "How would I know?"

"She's your mother and she sent you here for a reason."

"No. My mom died when I was two. I came here with my sister Lauren to start over again at a new school."

Nimue crossed her arms over her chest. "And where is this Lauren now?"

Jensen wet her lips. "I don't know."

The crowd began to murmur again as Nimue tapped her fingers against her lips, staring at Jensen in wonderment. "I was told you possessed the ability to speak untruths, but I must admit it is still a strange thing to witness for myself."

"Sounds like you're not used to people telling you the truth then, because that's all I'm doing."

"No, you're not." Nimue turned around, pacing away from Jensen. "Years ago, Lorelei sought the assistance of an exile to divide the vision of a Two-Sighted child. Her daughter. Now, sixteen years later, you show up, nixie just as she, and expect us to believe this is all mere coincidence, that your own mother kept you in the dark about her plans."

"She is not my mother!"

"She is."

Tears welled up in Jensen's eyes. "I don't believe you," she whispered past the growing lump in her throat. "I don't believe anything you say." Except, the more she thought about it, the more Nimue's claims made sense. Her whole life was starting to sound like one big carefully cultivated lie. And if everything that made her "her" was all just make-believe, what did that leave her? Nothing more than a faerie tale.

"Tell us what the unseelie want," someone yelled from the crowd.

Jensen closed her eyes, and swallowed her tears. She felt helpless and weak, and more than anything, alone. And for that, a part of her hated Lauren and hoped she was suffering wherever she was. "I already told you. I don't know. I don't know anything."

Patience running thin, Nimue snatched an iron-tipped arrow from the quiver of a nearby guard and aimed it at Jensen's throat. "I won't ask you again nixie."

Jensen's heart sputtered in her chest. She wanted to run, but her traitorous body locked down, refusing to budge from the spot. Scrambling for a convincing lie, her gaze darted around the crowd. And that's when she saw it. A will o' wisp, buzzing through the air at breakneck speed.

Jensen stared wide-eyed as the fiery faerie whipped around Nimue's head, startling the guard so much that she dropped the arrow to swat the air in front of her. Snagging tiny pieces of short blonde hair in its beak, the flying light-bulb tugged on the strands, somehow managing to drag Nimue backwards.

But before it had the chance to flit away, Nimue snatched the squealing faerie from her shoulder and slung it into a nearby tree. It landed on the ground with a squeak.

Jensen's eyes widened. The squeaky will o' wisp.

"Enough!" A deep, familiar voice shouted, one Jensen never expected to hear again. Tanner stood in front of the curtain of trees, rage glowing in his aquamarine eyes as he gripped a gnarled, wooden staff in his right hand.

A hush went out over the clearing. Jensen could see the fear in otherworldly gazes, could hear the worry in their awkward silence.

"How dare you interfere in Seelie business Dermot?" Nimue snarled.

He stalked forward, the air around him shimmering faint silver with each step. "Threatening the life of this girl makes it my business."

Nimue crossed her arms over her chest. "She is not your concern wizard."

"She is my daughter!"

Shocked gasps rang out over the clearing and the trees seemed to shudder with fear.

"Your daughter?" Nimue said, echoing Jensen's surprise. She backed up, then seeming to catch herself, went ramrod stiff. "This girl is nixie, from the line of Morgen, and ours to do as we see fit."

"She is Halfling, born in the Isle of Man to a mortal father. You have no claim to her and you know it."

Liam's dad stepped beside Nimue. "The wizard is right. This does indeed change things."

Nimue shook her head adamantly. "No! This changes nothing Fintan."

"You know the rules just as I mistress," Fintan countered.

"It is not our place to interfere in mortal dealings," another guard added.

Nimue gritted her teeth, pointing at Jensen. "She speaks untruths. A deceiver. Shall we just sit back idly while history repeats itself?"

"What would you have us do? Fintan asked. "We were given this task to guard humanity, not punish an innocent for the crimes of another." He shook his head and crossed his arms. "Have we fallen so low that we can no longer tell where we end and the Unseelie begin?"

"We never would have fallen had it not been for Morgen," Nimue said icily.

"This child is not Morgen!" Fintan yelled. "And this is not who we are. To try to wash our hands in the blood of a mortal is not the way of the Court of Light." He spun around, pinning Jensen with his churning stare. "Go child. Depart from this place and let us be done with this."

Chapter Fourteen

Jensen sat on the edge of the sofa-bed, blotting her hair from her shower. She'd lathered up at least four times, but could still smell the dampness of mildew in her nose. Could taste the bitterness of crumbling concrete in her mouth. She shivered, twisting her hair into a top knot, then wrapped the towel around her head, tucking the ends underneath.

Dermot strolled into the living room with a plaid throw slung over his forearm. "This should get you warmed up in no time."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow, staring at the thin material posing as a blanket. "What? Is it magic or something?"

Smiling, Dermot dropped it on her lap, pulling a long white cord from beneath it. "No, electric.

"Oh." She wrapped it around herself, bundling it tight against her neck, while he plugged it in the socket beside the sofa-bed. "So ..."

Dermot flopped down on the tattered leather recliner, clasping his hands in his lap. "So ..."

"I take it Eiden's not a traitor?"

Dermot smiled and the outer corners of his eyes crinkled. "Traitor? No, just a confused kid."

"He used the will o' wisp to contact you."

Dermot nodded. "The only way he could do so without drawing Nimue's suspicion."

Jensen licked her lips. "You're probably out of a job now."

His husky laugh bounced around the almost empty living room. "Probably."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all."

"Why not?"

"Well, I wasn't exactly there to teach anyway."

"Just there to torture me, huh?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Pretty much. You should try to do better in math."

Jensen rolled her eyes. "So where is she?" She, being the big pink elephant not in the room.

Dermot shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm sure she's fine. Your mother is one of the strongest people I know."

Jensen ran her hand up and down the smooth edge of the blanket. "So it's true then; Lauren's my mother."

Dermot waited for her to meet his gaze again, and then nodded. "And I'm your father."

"Faeries can't ... well, most faeries can't lie, so how did she get me to believe we were sisters?'

"Compulsion when you were young and by nurturing your growing assumptions. From what I understand, you had a vivid imagination."

Jensen thought she'd be relieved finally knowing the truth, but her chest only tightened more and her face felt like she'd just eaten a bowl full of jalapeño peppers. "Well, thanks for letting me crash here tonight."

Dermot bit his bottom lip. "You say that like it's a one-time deal Button."

"Don't call me that."

"Ok Jensen, I know you're upset—"

She shook her head and the towel loosened, falling into her face. She snatched it off and threw it down beside her. "Upset? I'm not upset. I'm pissed." Upset didn't come close to describing how she felt. Now had he used enraged, hurt, or grossly neglected, then there wouldn't have been a discussion.

"And you have every right to be, but you have to understand. This was the only way Lorelei knew to protect you."

"By keeping me in the dark and leaving me unprepared? Had it not been for Liam and Fee, I'd probably be dead right now, all because neither of you had the decency to tell me what the hell was going on." She jumped up from the bed and the blanket puddled at her feet. "I don't even know my real name. Is it Reilly or is it Tanner?"

"Reilly. Jensen Ava Reilly."

She closed her eyes and hugged her arms to herself. "At least something wasn't a lie."

"Will you at least give me the chance to explain?"

"What's the point?"

"You need to hear the truth."

"I needed to hear it six years ago," she snapped. "Not now."

He looked down. "Your mother thought it best that you didn't know."

"Don't you dare blame everything on her. You weren't even around."

"I had very little choice in the matter."

"So you're saying she left you?"

He smiled, which somehow made him look sadder. "When Lorelei makes up her mind about something, there's no talking her out of it. I only found out where you were a few months ago. By then, I couldn't help much. The blinding spell had already begun to fade, and—"

Jensen's butt hit the bed and she realized she'd sat back down. "Blinding spell?"

"A spell to remove the ability to see through faerie glamours."

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to sit there and listen to the rest of the story. "Go on."

Dermot sighed, rubbing his hand down the side of his face. "At that point, all we could do was watch and wait. I took the teaching position at the school to monitor your days. Lorelei watched you at night. But neither of us anticipated your sight would return this soon."

"So what do you suppose happens now?" she asked, rubbing the barbed-wire shaped scars on her wrists. Dermot had treated them as soon as they'd made it to his apartment and they looked better already. But he doubted they would ever fade completely. They would be a constant reminder of her run-in with Nimue. An ugly one at that.

"Well, the Sidhe Guard is on high alert right now, so staying here will be safer in the long run. And this is where Lorelei wants you to be. So once you're up to it, I think you should return to school with the light-elves and try not to draw either court's attention."

With everything that had happened to her, she was beginning to think the light and dark courts were one in the same. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but stopped, noticing Dermot's brows drawn together in confusion. "What is it now?"

"Jensen, when did you first start seeing things?"

"The day the Unseelie attacked on campus. I saw Liam in the hallway and suddenly he had wings." She shrugged.

"And what were you doing right before that?"

"Breaking into someone's locker." No point lying now. Besides, she was merely the product of her environment.

Dermot leaned forward, his eyes wide. "How?"

Her mouth stretched into a grin. "With the aid of one of my trusty hairpins."

"So you picked the lock then?"

Her smile fell away and she felt the space between her eyebrows wrinkle. "In a way, I guess."

Dermot's body went stiff. "What does that mean?"

She frowned, not knowing how to explain it. It was like she did, but didn't. "I guess you could say it just happened."

"I see." He closed his eyes, massaging his temples. "And in the Isle of Mermen when I freed you from the satyr's horn? What did you do then?"

"Besides standing there with my mouth hanging open? Nothing. You were there; you saw how I reacted."

"But something was running through your mind?"

"Why are you asking me all this?"

He met her gaze. "Because it's very important that I know what you were thinking at that moment."

Jensen blew out a frustrated breath. She couldn't understand how a person could go sixteen years without speaking to her, then suddenly decide he deserved access to her private thoughts. "I was thinking we were trapped and I wanted out."

He closed his eyes again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "How did I not see this?" he mumbled.

"See what?" He was freaking her out.

"So the first time it happened, you wanted to get into something, and the second time, you wanted out?"

Her hands trembled now. Her legs too. "First time what happened?"

"Breaking into the locker. Breaking out of the Isle of Mermen. The two times you've used Shimmerspell."

"I didn't. I couldn't. Liam says only the Lady of the Lake has that

and two fingers rubbed massaged his temples.sitive skin. She laid her head against his neck and smell the freshness of his soapability."

Dermot laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. The corners of his eyes didn't crinkle with amusement either. And then he spoke. Six words Jensen never expected to hear. Six words she never wanted to know. And six words that would change her life forever. "Tag Button; looks like you're it."

###

Kimberly Spencer is an avid reader, writer and non-arithmeticer. Yes, she knows that last one is not a real word, but seriously, don't ask her to count anything. If she's not working on the next book in _The Faerie Tale Girl Series_ , she's probably fighting with her three-year-old shih tzu Macho. And just like Charlie Sheen, he's usually winning.

Check out my blog: http://kimberlyspencer.blogspot.com

