The Lost Prince

Page 11

“School reporter?” Todd’s smile shifted to an obnoxious leer in the space of a blink. “You mean St. James. So, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger, too, huh? That didn’t take long.”
“You wanna walk home?”
“Sorry.” The smirk vanished as quickly as it had come. “I’ll be here. In fact, I think Violet and I are just going to stay right here until classes are over. You go do your interview thing. We’ll be close, probably hiding under a table or something.”
I made a mental note to check under the table before I did any interviews that afternoon, and left without another word. This time I did not look back.
Damn the fey. Why couldn’t they leave me alone? Or Todd, for that matter? Why did they make life miserable for anyone caught up in their twisted sights? Human, half-breed, young, old, it didn’t matter. I was no safer today than I had been thirteen years ago, just more paranoid and hostile. Was it always going to be like this, constantly looking over my shoulder, being alone so no one else got hurt? Was I ever going to be free of Them?
As I stepped through the library doors, my thoughts still on the conversation with the half-breed, something grabbed my shoulder and slammed me into the wall. My head struck the cement with a painful crack, expelling the air from my lungs. Stars danced across my vision for a second, and I blinked them away.
Kingston glared down at me, one fist in the collar of my shirt, pinning me to the wall. Two of his goons stood at his shoulders, flanking him like growling attack dogs.
“Hey there, asshole,” Kingston’s hot breath whipped at my face as he leaned close, reeking of smoke and spearmint. “I think we need to have a little talk.”
The demonstration, Ethan. Keep it together. “What do you want?” I snarled, forcing myself not to move, not to shoot my arm up his neck, wrench his head down and drive my knee into his ugly mouth. Or grab the hand on my collar, spin around, and slam his thick face into the wall. So many options, but I kept myself still, not meeting his eyes. “I haven’t done anything to you.”
“Shut up!” His grip tightened, pressing me harder against the cement. “I know it was you. Don’t ask me how, but I know. But we’ll get to that in a minute.” He brought his face close to mine, lips curling into a grim smile. “I hear you’ve been talking to Mackenzie.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. All this time I’ve been saying “go away,” and this still happens? “So what?” I challenged stupidly, making Kingston narrow his eyes. “What are you going to do, pee on her locker to let everyone know she’s off-limits?”
Kingston didn’t smile. His free fist clenched, and I kept a close eye on it in case it came streaking at my face. “She’s off-limits to you,” he said, dead serious now. “And unless you want me to make it so that all your food comes through a straw, you’ll remember that. You don’t talk to her, you don’t hang around her, you don’t even look at her. Just forget you ever heard her name, you got that?”
I would love to, I thought sourly. If the girl would leave me alone. But at the same time, something in me bristled at the thought of never talking to Kenzie again. Maybe I didn’t respond well to threats, maybe Todd’s unknown faeries had me itching for a fight, but I straightened, looked Brian Kingston right in the eye and said, “Piss. Off.”
He tensed, and his two friends swelled up behind him like angry bulls. “Okay, freak,” Kingston said, and that evil smirk came creeping back. “If that’s how you want it. Fine. I still owe you for making me miss practice yesterday. And now, I’m gonna make you beg.” The pressure on my shoulder tightened, pushing me toward the floor. “On your knees, freak. That’s how you like it, right?”
“Hey!”
A clear, high voice rang through the hall, a second before I would’ve exploded, demonstration or no. Mackenzie St. James came stalking toward us, a stack of books under one arm, her small form tight with fury.
“Let him go, Brian,” she demanded, marching up to the startled quarterback, a bristling kitten facing down a Rottweiler. “What the hell is your problem? Leave him alone!”
“Oh, hey, Mackenzie.” Brian grinned at her, looking almost sheepish. Taking your eyes off your opponent, I thought. Stupid move. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you to our mutual friend, here.” He shoved me against the wall again, and I fought down a knee-jerk reaction to snap his elbow. “He’s promised to be a lot nicer to you in the future, isn’t that right, freak?”
“Brian!”
“Okay, okay.” Kingston raised his hands and stepped away, and his cronies did the same. “Take it easy, Mac, we were just fooling around.” He turned a sneer on me, and I glared back, daring him to step forward, to grab me again. “You got lucky, freak,” he said, backing away. “Remember what I told you. You won’t always have a little girl around to protect you.” His friends snickered, and he winked at Kenzie, who rolled her eyes. “We’ll see you around, real soon.”
“Jerk,” Kenzie muttered as they sauntered off down the hall, laughing and high-fiving each other. “I don’t know what Regan sees in him.” She shook her head and turned to me. “You okay?”
Embarrassed, fuming, I scowled at her. “I could’ve handled it,” I snapped, wishing I could put my fist through a wall or someone’s face. “You didn’t have to interfere.”
“I know, tough guy.” She gave me a half smile, and I wasn’t sure if she was being serious. “But Regan is fond of the big meathead, and I didn’t want you to beat him up too badly.”
I glared in the direction the jocks had gone, clenching my fists as I struggled to control my raging emotions, the urge to stalk down the hall and plant Kingston’s face into the floor. Why me? I wanted to snap at her. Why won’t you leave me alone? And why do you have the entire football team ready to tear someone in half for looking at you funny?
“Anyway,” Kenzie continued, “we’re still on for that interview, right? You’re planning on showing up, I hope. I’m dying to know what goes on in that broody head of yours.”
“I don’t brood.”
She snorted. “Tough guy, if brooding was a sport, you’d have gold medals with scowling faces lining the walls of your room.”
“Whatever.”
Kenzie laughed. Sweeping past me, she pushed open the library door, pausing in the frame. “See you in a couple hours, Ethan.”
I shrugged.
“I’m holding you to it, tough guy. Promise me you won’t run off or conveniently forget.”
“Yes.” I blew out a breath as she grinned, and the door swung shut. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
I didn’t go.
Not that I didn’t try. Despite the incident in the hall—or maybe because of it—I wasn’t about to let anyone tell me who I could or could not hang out with. Like I said, I don’t respond well to threats, and if I was being honest with myself, I was more than a little curious about Mackenzie St. James. So after the last bell, I gathered my stuff, made sure the hall was clear of Kingston and his thugs, and headed toward the library.
About halfway there, I realized I was being followed.
The halls were nearly empty as I went by the cafeteria. The few bodies I passed were going the other way, to the parking lot and the vehicles that would take them home. But as I made my way through the quiet hallways, I got that strange prickle on the back of my neck that told me I wasn’t alone.
Casually, I stopped at a water fountain, bending down to get a quick drink. But I slid my gaze off to the side, scanning the hall.
There was a shimmer of white at the edge of my vision, as something glided around a corner and stopped in the shadows, watching.
My gut tightened, but I forced myself to straighten and walk down the hall as if nothing was wrong. I could feel the presence at my back following me, and my heart began to thud in my chest. It was the same creature, the one that I’d seen in the locker room that night, when the piskie found me. What was it? One of the fey, I was certain, but I’d never seen this kind before, all pale and transparent, almost ghostlike. A bean sidhe, perhaps? But bean sidhes usually announced their presence with hair-raising shrieks and wails; they didn’t silently trail someone down a dark corridor, being careful to stay just out of sight. And I certainly wasn’t about to die.
I hoped.
What does it want with me? I paused at the library door, grasping the handle but not pulling it open. Through the small rectangular window, I saw the front desk, the librarian’s gray head bent over the computer. Kenzie would be in there, somewhere, waiting for me. And Todd. I’d promised I would meet them both, and I hated breaking my word.
A memory flashed: one of myself, fleeing the redcaps, taking refuge in the library. Pulling a knife as I hunkered between the aisles, waiting for them. The sadistic faeries setting fire to the wall of books to flush me into the open. I escaped, but my rush to get out was taken as me fleeing the scene of the crime, leading to my expulsion from school.
I drew in a quiet breath, pausing in the door frame, anger and fear spreading through my stomach. No, I couldn’t do this. If I went in, if They saw me talking to Kenzie, they could use her to get to me. I didn’t know what They wanted, but I wasn’t going to draw another person into my dangerous, messed-up life. Not again.
Releasing the handle, I stepped away and continued down the hall. I felt the thing follow me, and as I turned the corner, I thought I heard the library door creak open. I didn’t look back.
I walked out to the parking lot, but I didn’t stop there. Getting in my truck and driving home might lose my tail, but it wouldn’t give me any answers as to why it was following me. Instead, I passed the rows of cars, stepped over the curb, and continued on to the football field. Thankfully, it was empty today. No practice, no screaming coaches, no armored jocks slamming into each other. If Kingston and his friends saw me sauntering casually across their turf in a very blatant show of Screw you, Kingston, what are you gonna do about it? they would try to bury me here. I wondered if anyone else could see me, and if they did, would they tell the quarterback I was figuratively pissing on his territory? I smirked at the thought, vaguely tempted to stop and make it literal, as well. But I had more important things to deal with, and a pissing contest with Kingston wasn’t one of them.