Unravelled. Gena Showalter
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next time. Okay?” She hunched over, sweat pouring from her, even though that winter storm was raging inside her veins.
“Mary Ann?”
“Yes?”
“Here’s your warning.”
Once again a hot brand circled her wrist. Once again the ground disappeared from beneath her. Once again she was floating, flying, wind ripping through her, splitting her into thousands of pieces, then fitting her back together again in an instant.
This time when she focused, she realized they were in a neighborhood. Small, kind of rundown houses surrounded her. Those pesky blackbirds were squawking and flying in every direction, as if something had startled them. Next to her was a street—with a car driving past. The driver rubbernecked, trying to look at them as long as possible. Had he seen them appear out of nowhere?
He’ll think he made a mistake. Don’t worry about that now. “Don’t…just…rest…” Words—form properly, damn it!
Another cuss word. Excellent. At this rate, she’d soon sound like every other kid at school.
No time to mourn that development, however. The black spots were expanding in front of her eyes, thickening, some of the circles now touching. The snowstorm inside her raged out of control, becoming a blizzard, and she shivered. Ice. Her new most-hated thing.
“Just a little farther,” Victoria said. There was no sympathy in her tone, only worry. “Okay? Yes?”
For Aden. For Riley. Mary Ann could do this. She straightened. Nodded.
Victoria wasted no time. Hot brand, ground gone. Mighty wind. Unwanted chill. Mary Ann in pieces—pieces that could be lost forever. What if she didn’t fit back together the right way? What if she—God, she really was a liability. She really was the weak link of their circle. She couldn’t even handle being teleported.
That will change. I’ll learn to fight, no matter what’s required of me, she told herself as she solidified in…she looked around, only fragments of her surroundings registering past the ever-growing black. A train track, too-tall grass that was yellow, brittle. A snake slithered and hissed over the rusted iron. Shouldn’t it be hibernating?
“Mary Ann?”
She knew what Victoria was asking. Was she ready to go again? “Just…do it,” she said. “Finish this.” Brand. Wind. Chill. Ground. Stop. Brand. Wind. Chill. Ground. Stop. “We’re here.”
Finally. Mary Ann’s knees gave out and she collapsed, sucking in as many breaths as she could. Which wasn’t many. Dizzy, so dizzy. Air too thick, still too cold. Only one thought made any sense at the moment: teleporting sucked.
“The ranch is just ahead. When you’re able, stand and walk. Yes? I am going inside now.”
Victoria didn’t wait for her reply—not that she was in any shape to deliver one—but bolted away, a blur of motion. Fight. Fight this! If she didn’t, and Riley was inside, he would come after her, wanting to help her. He would see her like this. He would view her as weaker than he already did.
A minute passed. Maybe an hour. But finally, Mary Ann clawed her way from the darkness, her head clearing enough that she was able to stand, the air thinning enough that she was able to breathe. Her knees knocked together, but she didn’t let that stop her from tripping forward. She had yet to warm, so every step was like pushing her legs through sludge.
Finally, she reached the ranch’s bunkhouse, where Aden stayed, a log cabin-type structure next to a bright red barn. She found his window, saw that the glass was pushed up, out of the way. Inside she climbed, just kind of throwing her body through. She plopped unceremoniously to the floor.
“Mary Ann!”
Riley’s deep voice penetrated the lingering fog in her mind.
Relief and dread, that’s what she experienced. If he said anything about her presence or current condition, she’d…what? Nothing, probably. Coward.
Not for much longer.
“I was just coming for you, baby. Are you okay?” His strong arms wound around her and gently tugged her to her feet.
“I’m fine. You can let go.” Don’t let go. “Where’s Aden? How’s Aden?” Her lashes lifted, and her gaze met Riley’s. As always, her heart constricted. He was just so beautiful. So much a warrior. But right now, despite that, he looked like death walking. He was shirtless and covered in dried blood. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Come. See for yourself.”
FIVE
MARY ANN EXPECTED TRAGEDY. Death, even. She was braced for the emotional impact, whatever chose to flood her—grief, remorse, sorrow. A combination of all three. What she saw surprised her, and it was happiness and relief that flooded her.
Aden’s room was neat. Clean. The papers on the desk were tidy, and the air was wonderfully sweet, smelling of roses and honeysuckle. Aden lay on the bed, buried under the covers. He was a little paler than normal, with dark circles under his closed eyes, his black hair—with its blond roots—in tangles and matted to his scalp. His body was shaking, but otherwise appeared healthy and whole. She flattened a hand over her thumping heart and grinned.
And yet, Victoria sat beside him, patting his hand, tears streaming down her face. Why the tears? He was alive.
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Mary Ann said, burrowing deeper into Riley’s side.
“He reeks of Fae.” Victoria shimmied under the covers and curled herself around Aden. “My poor baby,” she cooed. “You’re so cold. Like ice. Let me warm you.”
Aden, asleep or not, must have recognized his girlfriend, because he turned toward her, slid his arms around her waist and held on tight. Gradually, his shivering ceased.
“What’s wrong with smelling like the Fae?” Mary Ann asked. All she smelled was the roses and honeysuckle. And it was good. She inhaled deeply, savoring, wanting a bottle of the scent to take home and bathe in.
In fact, when she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself twirling in a meadow, thickets of roses stretching toward her, a rainbow of soft, fragrant petals. Warm air. Birds singing. Hazy blue sky, fluffy white clouds. The images calmed her, and her stomach settled completely for the first time that day.
“The stink lingers, and our people will never follow him like this. They will rebel. They will demand a new leader. But to gain one, they will have to kill him.” Tears fell from Victoria’s eyes again. “And he’s supposed to appear before them. Tonight!”
The last was a screech.
“That’s not the worst of it,” Riley said gravely. “I haven’t told you how he came to be in this condition.”
Mary Ann’s eyelids cracked open, the field and colors fading away. So. Weird. For a second, she would have sworn she’d truly been in that meadow.
Riley said something in a language Mary Ann didn’t know, and Victoria paled. “Mr. Thomas to the humans,” he finished in English.
“Who?” Mary Ann asked. “And what did you say? Before?”
“I spoke the name of the Fae prince who dragged Aden into Fairy Tale,” Riley said. “The human tongue cannot pronounce fairy names, and so they use shortened versions while here. Anyway, he once swore a blood oath to destroy every member of Victoria’s family for their part in his brother’s death.”
“Aden is now part of the royal family,” Victoria gasped out.
“As you can see, he’s fine, for the most part, but…there was a fight,” Riley continued. “I was losing. Aden possessed his body, allowing me to kill the—to win.”
Wait. Fairy…tale? “Fairy Tale