The Iron Traitor

Page 4

She sniffed, unappeased. “I vanish for a few days and now he’s interested in being a dad? After ignoring me for years and not caring about anything I did?” She wrinkled her nose, bitterness coloring her voice. “Too little too late, I’m afraid. I don’t need him looking out for me.”
I didn’t answer. It would take a lot of talking, tears and forgiveness for Kenzie and her dad to settle their differences and start to heal old wounds, and I didn’t want to be that mediator. Not with my own screwed-up family. As if reading my mind, Kenzie asked, “What did your parents say when you got back? Were they very mad?”
“No.” I shrugged. “They...sort of had a visit from the Iron Queen before I got home. She talked to them, told them where I had been, that it wasn’t my fault I disappeared.”
“Have you talked to Keirran since New York? Or your sister?”
I shook my head, my mood darkening at the thought of Keirran and Meghan. “No. I don’t think I’ll see either of them for a while.”
“I’m worried about him,” Kenzie muttered, sounding as if she was fighting sleep. “Him and Annwyl both. Hope they’re all right.”
A nurse peeked into the room, saw me and frowned, tapping her wrist. I nodded, and she ducked out.
I stood, wishing I didn’t have to leave so soon. “I have to go,” I told her as she blinked sleepily up at me. Reaching down, I gently brushed the hair from her face. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
Her eyes closed once more and didn’t open this time. “Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Bring chocolate? The food here sucks.”
I laughed quietly, bent down and kissed her. Just a brief, light touch of her lips to mine, and she sank back into the pillows. Already asleep. I watched her for another heartbeat, then turned and left the room, vowing to come back as soon as I could.
As I stepped into the hall, a shadow pushed itself off the wall and moved toward me, blocking my path. I blinked and stumbled to a halt as a tall, dark-haired man loomed over me, cold black eyes regarding me with suspicion. He wore a business suit that probably cost more than my truck, a large Rolex on one wrist and an air of aggressive superiority. He didn’t look distraught. In this corridor of rumpled, haggard-looking people, he was tall and clean shaven with not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothes.
We stared at each other, and I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t like the way this guy was looking at me, like I was a stray dog wandering around and he wasn’t sure if he should call animal control. I was about to shove past him when his lips twitched into a cold, unamused smile, and he shook his head.
“So.” The man’s voice wasn’t loud or even hostile. It was cool and pragmatic. “You’re him, aren’t you? The boy that took my very sick daughter away from her family, and her medicine, and her doctors, to go gallivanting up to New York for the week.”
Oh, crap. You had to be kidding me. This was Kenzie’s father. Kenzie’s very rich, very powerful lawyer father. The father who, by Kenzie’s own admission, had had the entire police force searching for his missing daughter all week.
I was in trouble.
I didn’t answer, and Kenzie’s dad continued to regard me without expression. His voice didn’t change; it was still perfectly reasonable, though his eyes turned steely as he said, “Explain yourself, please. Tell me why I shouldn’t press charges against you for kidnapping.”
I swallowed the challenge on the tip of my tongue. The unfairness of it all burned my throat. He wasn’t making idle threats. I’d dealt with my share of lawyers, though they were all public defenders, not the same caliber as Kenzie’s dad. If he decided to press charges against me, there was little I could do. My word held no weight; if the cops did get involved, who would they believe—the rich lawyer or the teenage thug?
I took a deep breath to cool my anger so when I spoke I wouldn’t sound like the delinquent brute he thought I was. “Kenzie wanted to see New York,” I began in the most reasonable voice I could manage. “She asked me to take her. It was a split-second decision and probably not the smartest thing we could have done, but...” I shrugged helplessly. “We should have talked to you about it first, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s done now. And you can try to keep me away, have me arrested, whatever. But I’m not abandoning Kenzie.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and I wanted to kick myself. Nice, Ethan. Keep antagonizing Mr. Big Shot lawyer; that’s a great way to stay out of jail. But he was still waiting calmly for me to go on, and the next words out of my mouth were the absolute truth. “I swear, I would never do anything to hurt her. I wouldn’t have taken her anywhere if I’d known she’d end up here.”
He regarded me with a practiced blank expression, giving no hint of what he was thinking. “Mackenzie speaks very highly of you,” he said. “She told me that while you were in Central Park, you fought off a gang of thugs who tried to hurt her. She has never lied to me before, so I have no reason to doubt her words. But I think, in this case, I must ask you to stay away from my daughter.”
I blinked, taken aback by his quiet bluntness, unsure of what I’d just heard. “What?”
“You are not to see Mackenzie anywhere outside of school,” Mr. St. James continued, still in that cool, unruffled voice. “You are forbidden from calling her. You are not to speak to her if you can help it. If you come around our house, I will call the police. Do you understand, Mr. Chase?”
“You can’t be serious.” I was torn between laughing and wanting to slug this guy in the jaw. “You can’t forbid me from seeing anyone. And good luck getting Kenzie to agree to anything like that.”
“Yes,” Kenzie’s father agreed. “I know my daughter. And I know I cannot control what she does. But I can make your life very unplesant, Mr. Chase. Which is why I am asking you, politely, to stay away from Mackenzie. I think we both know that you’re no good for her. I think we both know that she ended up here—” he gestured back to Kenzie’s doorway “—because of you.”
That hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, unable to find the words to defend myself or disagree. Kenzie’s dad regarded me a second longer, then moved aside. “You should go now,” he said, a hint of warning below the smooth tone. I glared at him, then shoved past. I was tempted to tell him to go screw himself, just to prove he couldn’t order me around, but tempting fate right now seemed like a bad idea. There was nothing to be gained from it tonight.
“Think on what I said, Ethan Chase,” St. James added as I stalked down the hallway, silently fuming. “I will protect my daughter at all costs. Do not think you can fight me on this. You will lose, and you will lose badly.”
I continued to the parking lot without looking back. I saw the cop standing in the waiting room again, and he might’ve given me the evil eye as I ducked out. Maybe Kenzie’s dad had said something to him before confronting me...I didn’t know. I did know one thing—there was no way that A-hole would keep me from seeing Kenzie.
As I climbed into my truck and yanked the door shut behind me, my phone buzzed. Digging it out of my pocket, I checked the number and winced. Mom. Damn, I hadn’t called to let her know where I was. Guiltily, I hit the answer button and braced myself for the explosion. “Hey, Mom.”
“Where are you?” her frantic voice screeched in my ear. “I told you to call me if you were going to be late!”
“Um, yeah, sorry. I’m...uh, I’m at the hospital.”
“What?”
“Visiting a friend,” I added, mentally kicking myself. “I’m just visiting a friend.”
A long, shaky sigh, the kind that hinted she was holding back tears. “Come home, Ethan. Right now.”
“On my way,” I answered softly, and she hung up.
I expected a lecture when I got home. Something along the lines of “It’s only been three days since you vanished into Faeryland for a week, do you know how worried we were, you’re supposed to call if you’re going to be late.”
You know, the normal issues.
However, when I walked through the front door, bracing myself for scolding or yelling or general parental displeasure, it wasn’t Mom who rose from the living room couch to greet me.
It was Meghan.
CHAPTER THREE
THE IRON QUEEN’S WARNING
My stomach flip-flopped. My half sister, the queen of the Iron fey, was standing in my living room, looking as normal as any average, non-faery-related teenager. Almost. She wore her standard jeans and T-shirt, and her long, straight blond hair was pulled up behind her head. Only the slender, pointed ears gave her away; though the glamour concealed her true appearance, making her look perfectly human to mortals, my Sight always let me see through the disguise.
I cast a furtive glance around the room for other fey, well, for one faery in particular. For a long black coat and a glowing blue sword, silver eyes appraising and wary. Was he in my house, lurking in some dark corner? He’d never come inside before....
“He’s not here,” Meghan said quietly. Embarrassed, I flicked my attention back to her, finding her solemn blue eyes on me. She looked...tired. Worried. “I need to talk to you, Ethan,” she said. “In private, if we could. I don’t want Mom or Luke overhearing us, and there are some things that need...explaining.”
“Yeah. There are.”
I motioned her down the hall to my room, following her through the frame and closing the door behind us. Meghan perched on my bed while I dropped into my computer chair, facing her.
So many questions. So many secrets she had kept from me, from Mom, from everyone. Where should I even begin? I opted for the largest one.
“Keirran,” I said, and she closed her eyes. “When were you going to tell us? Or were you hoping to keep him from us forever?” When she didn’t answer right away, I nodded slowly, even though she couldn’t see. “That’s why you stopped coming around, isn’t it?” I muttered. “You never wanted us to meet. You didn’t want Keirran to know about his human family.” My chest squeezed tight as I thought of all those years, waiting for my sister to come back, just to visit, and she never had. “Are you ashamed of us?”