Glimmerglass

Chapter Five

Maybe I was just being contrary, but the fact that Lachlan had suggested I go to sleep made me want to stay awake. Not the easiest thing to do when battling jet lag, a full stomach, and a cheery fire. If I didn’t keep myself busy, I was going to lose my battle against sleep, so I dug my laptop out of my backpack. I thought maybe I could shoot a quick e-mail out to Mom, letting her know what a mess I was in. Maybe she’d sober up enough to come riding to my rescue. But—surprise, surprise—my prison cell didn’t come equipped with Wi-Fi. I had a couple of dirty books I’d downloaded from the Internet—since I pay the bills in the family, my mom never notices the charges—but reading dirty books while locked in a cell just seemed … wrong.

For the first time since I’d snuck out of the house to catch my flight, I felt a twinge of guilt. Could Mom hold herself together enough to pay her own bills without me there? I imagined her sitting, alone and sloshed, in our house with no water or electricity. Then I shook my head at myself. She’d been leaning on me more and more as the years went by, but whether she acted like it or not, she was an adult, and she could take care of her own damn self!

At around seven, Lachlan brought in another tray. My stomach rumbled. Those scones had worn off at least an hour ago. This time, the tray held an enormous panini sandwich, dripping with melted cheese and mayo, along with a small garden salad. I guessed this came from his bakery as well.

When he took the tray away, he once again suggested I should get some sleep. At that point, I was practically asleep on my feet, but I was still too stubborn to do as I was told. Just to prove that I wasn’t taking his advice, I started warming up my voice with a series of vocalises. Then I practiced the songs I’d been working on with my voice teacher before I’d run for what I thought was greener grass. I suspected Lachlan was listening, even through the six-inch-thick door, so I mentally urged myself to perform for him. Maybe his heart would melt at the beauty of my voice and he’d set me free.

Yeah, and I thought I saw a pig flying just last week.

I lost myself in the music for a while, the songs flowing out of me one after the other. While I sang, I almost forgot that my father was in jail and my aunt Grace was keeping me locked up “for my own good.” I closed my eyes and allowed the music to transport me to another world.

Eventually, I noticed a burning sensation on my chest. For reasons I couldn’t explain, the cameo had grown very warm, almost like I’d been holding it near the fire. I took it off and examined it, trying to figure out why it was hot, but it cooled off so fast I wondered if I’d been imagining things.

Once I stopped singing, it hit me again how achingly tired I was. My eyelids weighed ten tons each. Figuring I’d more than proved my point to Lachlan, I decided that now was the time to let the exhaustion take over.

I couldn’t see changing into my PJs under these circumstances, so I settled for taking off my shoes and socks and exchanging my jeans for a pair of loose, beat-up workout pants. Then I climbed into the small but relatively comfortable bed. It was dark out, and I’d turned off the overhead light, but there was too much of a chill in the air to turn the fireplace off. I fell asleep staring into the silent, flickering flames.

It was still dark when I woke up, completely disoriented. For the first few moments, I couldn’t figure out where I was, but it didn’t take much time for the memory to rush back. My head felt thick and heavy, and everything around me felt unreal. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was two a.m.I flopped over onto my other side, sure I’d be asleep again in seconds, but then I heard the sound of footsteps outside my door.

Belatedly, I realized that I’d heard some kind of thud, and that’s what had awakened me. I’d thought that it was some remnant of a dream, but as I heard the grating sound of the bar being raised, I decided it hadn’t been a dream after all.

I quickly sat up, scrambling to disentangle myself from the covers. Perhaps I’d heard more than I remembered, or perhaps it was just a premonition, but I felt certain the person opening my door wasn’t Lachlan. Seconds later, I was proven right when a man pulled open the door and stepped into my cell.

I stopped struggling with the covers, unable to keep myself from staring. Standing in the doorway to my cell was probably the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen. He was tall—though he’d probably look like a midget next to Lachlan—and slender, with really long blond hair that draped his shoulders like a cape. It was too dark in the flickering firelight to tell what color his eyes were, except that they were very light—and had the distinctive upward tilt of the Fae. He’d probably have been too perfect to be truly gorgeous if it weren’t for the slight unevenness of his nose, which looked like it had been broken at least once.

He looked younger than most of the Fae I’d seen, though he was older than me. I wondered if he had a baby face, or whether he was really a Fae teenager. I supposed there was such a thing, even though Fae adults became effectively ageless.

He broke into a crooked smile, and I realized that I was staring at him like I was some twelve-year-old meeting the Jonas Brothers. I mentally shook myself by the scruff of the neck and managed to get the covers out of the way. My bare feet didn’t much like the cold stone floor, but I wasn’t about to take my eyes off the Fae long enough to put my shoes and socks on.

“Who are you?” I asked when he just stood there grinning.

“My name is Ethan, and I’m here to rescue you.”

O-kay. Maybe I was dreaming after all. The fog in my head thickened as I tried to figure out which of my million questions I should ask first.

Ethan was still grinning. Guess he was really enjoying my witty dialogue. “Unless you find your present accommodations to your liking and wish to stay.”

“Just grab her and let’s go,” said a girl’s sharp voice from the other room. I couldn’t see her with Ethan blocking the doorway. I wondered where Lachlan was.

Ethan cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “I’m trying to show some courtesy,” he said. “You have heard of courtesy, haven’t you?”

The girl called him a couple of names I won’t repeat, and I felt a surge of disappointment. Despite the less-than-friendly exchange, there was a familiarity to their dialogue that suggested they were pretty chummy. Then I rolled my eyes at myself. Why on earth would I care?

Ethan turned his attention back to me. “We really should get going. We haven’t got much time.”

I managed to tear my eyes away from him to pull on my socks, thinking furiously the whole time. Was there any reason I should go with this guy? (Other than that he was a hottie, that is.) I had no idea who he was or why he wanted to rescue me—if he really was trying to rescue me—and Aunt Grace had warned me I was in great danger. Of course, I trusted Aunt Grace about as far as I could throw Lachlan.

I bit my lip, stalling by retying my shoelaces. I’d thought to myself earlier that if I wanted to escape, I’d need an accomplice. Had fate finally taken pity on me and sent me exactly what I needed? Or were Ethan and his girlfriend the real bad guys? Just because he was gorgeous didn’t mean he wasn’t rotten to the core. Then again, if they were the bad guys, I wasn’t going to have much choice in the matter. There were two of them, and only one of me. Maybe I should try screaming?

Ethan took a step closer. “You’ll want to come along with us quietly,” he told me, and there was a hint of warning in his voice. “If we had more time, I could gently persuade you that you can trust us, but that will have to wait until we get you out of here.”

I glared up at him. Somehow, he didn’t look quite so hot anymore. I jumped when the girl entered the room and shoved Ethan aside. She was also Fae, and she looked even younger than Ethan, maybe even my age. If she’d had that distinctive bump on her nose, she’d be the female version of Ethan, with the same long blond hair, slim build, and light-colored eyes.

“Hey!” Ethan protested as he stumbled, but the girl ignored him, muttering something under her breath as she advanced on me.

I decided now would be a good time to scream after all, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. Either I’d just come down with the world’s most sudden case of laryngitis, or the girl had just cast a spell on me. I decided that put her and Ethan firmly in the “bad guy” column. I tried to dodge past her, but she grabbed my arm. She was willowy thin like a supermodel, but she certainly wasn’t weak. My struggles made the cameo slide under the collar of my shirt. It was hot again, and I would have tried to move it away from my skin if I hadn’t had more important things to do, like shaking off the Fae girl’s grip. Her fingers dug into my arm bruisingly hard, and she tugged me toward the door.

Ethan kept out of her way, but he was still giving me that cocky grin like he found all this really entertaining. He made an elaborate mock bow.

“Dana Stuart,” he said formally, “I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Kimber. Also known as the Bitch from Hell.” He laughed as he said it, so that it came out sounding halfway affectionate, but Kimber gave him the finger with her free hand.

The gesture just seemed wrong. Very un-Fae-like. Where was the icy reserve my mother had told me about?

I tried to dig in my heels, but Kimber was way stronger than she looked, and I couldn’t fight her any better than I could have fought Lachlan. It was all I could do to keep my feet under me as she yanked me over the threshold into the guard room, Ethan close on my heels.

I still had no voice, but a silent gasp escaped me when I saw Lachlan. He was lying facedown on the floor. A bright splash of blood spattered the floor near his head. Kimber ignored my shock, dragging me toward the exit.

“He’ll be all right,” Ethan assured me. “It would take an army to do him any lasting harm.”

As if to prove Ethan’s point, Lachlan groaned softly. Ethan’s eyes widened, and he pushed on my back while Kimber continued to pull my arm.

“We’d best get moving,” he said. “I doubt Lachlan will be happy with me when he wakes.”

I was half-pushed, half-pulled up the stairs and into the street. My voice still wasn’t working, and though I struggled as hard as I could, there was no escaping, and the street was deserted. A covered, horse-drawn wagon waited at the curb. Kimber pulled up the tarp with one hand, revealing the straw-covered wagon bed. Then she shifted her grip to my waist and, ignoring my flailing arms, picked me up and flung me into the straw.

She started to climb in after me, but Ethan stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“You drive,” he said. “I’ll keep our passenger company.” He waggled his brows, and Kimber rolled her eyes. She didn’t argue, though.

My heart galloped, and I was so scared I was shaking. I didn’t want to be alone and helpless in the back of this wagon with a man who was strong enough to knock Lachlan unconscious. Especially not when he’d done that little brow-waggle thing. I feared I knew exactly what he was planning to do to me while his sister drove the wagon.

Ethan climbed onto the wagon and dropped the tarp back over the back, blocking out all the light. Oh, God, now I was alone with him in the dark. I scrambled as far away from him as I could, until my back hit something solid. Then I started fishing through the straw with both hands, hoping against hope to find a weapon.

“You’ve no need to be frightened,” Ethan said, and to my immense relief his voice came from near the back of the wagon. “We’re relatively harmless, Kimber and me.”

“Tell that to Lachlan,” I found myself saying, amazed at how calm I sounded. Then I realized it meant my voice had come back, and before Ethan could silence me again, I screamed as loud and long as I possibly could.

Eventually, I had to stop or I was going to pass out.

“That’s an impressive set of lungs,” Ethan said, not sounding the least bit annoyed by my attempt to get help. “My ears may never recover.” I could hear the laugh in his voice, and it took a little of the edge off my fear. That sounded more like playful teasing than menacing kidnapper talk. I still wasn’t convinced he was “harmless,” and I wasn’t exactly feeling playful, but it didn’t sound like he was about to attack me.

“The wagon is spelled to be soundproof,” he continued. “I borrowed it from a friend of mine who swears it’s much more comfortable than the backseat of a car, if you know what I mean.”

Eww. Yes, I knew what he meant. And I hoped the straw had been changed since the last time Ethan’s friend had gotten lucky.

My shoulders slumped in defeat, and I suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired again. Tears burned my eyes. I hadn’t trusted Grace, but I’d at least hoped she was telling me the truth and she would bring my father to me when he was out of jail. I had no clue what Ethan and Kimber wanted from me. I tried to breathe slowly and deeply to calm myself.

“As I was saying, you have no need to be frightened,” Ethan said, as if my little scream-fest had never happened. “I’d never have taken Lachlan in a fair fight. I came at him from behind and hit him before he even knew I was there. For which someday I’m sure he will reward me handsomely.”

“Who are you, and where are you taking me?”

“We’re taking you somewhere where you will be safe from Grace Stuart.”

I snorted. “Yeah, and she was locking me up to keep me safe from hordes of enemies who were out for my blood. I didn’t believe her, and I don’t believe you, either.” I crossed my arms over my chest, though Ethan wouldn’t be able to see the defiant gesture in this dark. Or maybe he could—for all I knew, Fae could see in the dark.

“I can’t blame you for that. I apologize for our methods, but if we’d taken the time to explain everything, Lachlan would have woken up long before we were through.”

I noticed he’d totally ignored the “who are you” part of my question. I decided to try a different tack. “Let’s pretend I believe you. Why are you ‘helping’ me? How do you know who I am? How did you know where to find me?”

“One question at a time!” Ethan said, and again it sounded like he was teasing me.

I ground my teeth, wishing it weren’t so dark so I could see if my glare was having any effect on him. This whole kidnapping thing might seem like a big joke to him, but after everything that had happened to me since my plane had landed, I wasn’t in much of a laughing mood. I rubbed my tired eyes. I couldn’t focus my thoughts enough to choose one question to ask. Thankfully, Ethan took pity on me and chose one himself.

“Your father and your aunt are both hoping to be appointed Consul when the current Consul’s term has ended. Whichever one has you in their power could stand a much greater chance of being appointed.”

“What?” I cried. “Why?”

“That I’ll have to explain a little later. But I will explain, I promise. Anyway, in answer to your question of why Kimber and I are helping you, we would prefer not to see Grace Stuart as Consul. She’s one of the top contenders, and having you under her control could cement her victory. It’s well past time for Avalon to enter the twenty-first century, and she’s as old-school as they come. Your father isn’t exactly progressive, either, but he’s better than Grace. I don’t know what she told you to explain why she locked you up, but there’s a good chance you would never have been heard from again if we hadn’t gotten you out of there.”

“Are you saying she was planning to kill me?” I squeaked. I might not have liked or trusted Aunt Grace, but the idea that she might kill me had never entered my mind. It seemed so far-fetched as to be ridiculous. But then, so did a lot of stuff that had happened so far.

“She probably wouldn’t kill you,” he admitted. “Unless that was the only way to keep you from your father.”

The wagon came to a stop, and Ethan used that as an excuse not to elaborate. “I’ll answer as many questions as you like, once we get you to safety,” he said. “But until then, I need you to be quiet.” He mumbled something under his breath.

I knew without having to test it out that my voice had just taken another vacation.