Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (7 page)

“Clean-up work,” Kailen said. “The first thing you must learn is that you control the magic, the magic does not control you. If you run around firing off at every idea that crosses your head, you're going to get very tired very quickly, and you'll hurt yourself, like you almost did now.” He lifted the ring and held it out to me. “Here.”

I took it and moved it between my fingers. I felt lightheaded, as though I'd stood up too quickly after sitting for a long while.

Kailen put a hand out to my arm. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “This is just a lot to take in.” I dropped the ring into my pocket and rubbed the spot where it had once been. “I never thought I would get divorced, much less be running around with a guy I barely know, learning magic. And all this in the course of a week.”

“Hey.” He put his hand over mine. “I don't have a middle name. I was born in the Fae world and lived there until I was two hundred and seventeen years old. I hate yellow lights in traffic, raccoons, and water getting in my shoes. My favorite food is crème brulee and my favorite place is the muirwoods in the Fae world. I like my coffee black, but only when it's of good quality. I snore, but only when I sleep on my back.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“You said you were running about with a guy you barely knew.” He squeezed my hand. “Now you know me a little better.”

I couldn't help it. I returned his smile. For the first time, I thought,
You know, he's not so bad
. “Thanks. That helps. A little.”

“Maybe if you get to know me more, it will help more than a little.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and my heart jumped in my chest.

“Here you are, dears,” said the old woman. She set two plates in front of us, eggs surrounded with two slices of toast, orange slices and strawberries, two pieces of sausage, and two pieces of bacon. It smelled amazing.

I pulled away from Kailen. “Thank you,” I told her. She smiled, nodded, and turned away from us.

We ate in silence. I wasn't sure what to say to Kailen, and the way he'd made me feel for a moment unsettled me. I hadn't felt that way since I'd first met Owen, so many years ago. Maybe it had something to do with his magic. But why use it on me now? Or maybe he did it without even thinking.

I watched Kailen from beneath my eyelashes as I buttered my toast. Once in a while, he passed a piece of food to Jane, in his pocket, who accepted it with a squeak of gratitude. The breakfast tasted just as good as Kailen had promised. I usually picked up a bagel on my way into work. Owen liked to cook, but he seldom got up early enough to make me breakfast on a weekday. He made up for it on the weekends, though, with spreads almost as elaborate as the one before me now.

Why was I still thinking about Owen?

Something clicked and whirred. Both Kailen and I stopped eating.

“Is that your watch again?” I asked.

He lifted his wrist, his gaze intent on the face. “This morning? And here?” he muttered. He looked at me, then put his hand to the tube at his belt. “They've found us.”

My gaze drifted over the small dining room. There was the door to the kitchen, the door we'd entered through, three windows behind me, and one to the side, revealing the wrap-around porch. All windows were closed against the chill morning air. “Who is
they
?” I asked.

Kailen shook his head. “Back toward the window.” The watch beeped out a warning.

I rose to my feet, my knees bumping the leg of the table and sending water slopping over the tablecloth. On an impulse, I seized the knife next to my plate. I still remembered the dream I'd had two nights ago, where the hobgoblin had torn me in half. If I'd learned anything in my thirty-two years, it was that the only person I could always rely on was myself. Kailen was great with his sword and all, but if it came down to saving my ass or his, well, I wasn't going to count on chivalry taking the day.

Black circles formed on the maroon carpet of the dining room, spreading into oily puddles.

Kailen unclipped the tube at his belt and snapped his arm out. The sword unfolded. We moved toward the three windows on the far wall. “Only three of them this time,” Kailen said. “Well, they don't have much confidence in my abilities, do they?”

"Who is
they
?" I repeated through tight lips.

Three hobgoblins rose up out of the puddles, glowing eyes fixing on us. My fingers clenched around the steak knife. They started toward us, eighteen hands stretching forward.

“Stay behind me,” Kailen said.

The hobgoblins attacked. Kailen made quick work of the first one, slicing it through the middle. It dissolved. The next two approached more carefully. One engaged Kailen while the other reached around and tried to grab me.

I cut off its hand with my steak knife. As the hobgoblin's hand dissolved and the black specks flew over my arm, I stopped feeling afraid. I pushed past the protective reach of Kailen's arms, scoring a strike against the hobgoblin's face. It hissed, exposing a black, shapeless maw where its mouth should have been. More black liquid dripped onto the carpet.

One of its lower hands seized the side of my shirt. I couldn't seem to watch all of them at once. I twisted away, trying to break its grip. Another hand came around and grabbed my opposite shoulder. I sliced off the hand that held my shoulder first. It brought another hand up to replace it quickly, too quickly.

“Kailen!” I cried out.

I didn't see him move. The sword came up between me and the hobgoblin, severing its limbs. It swung out and then in again, taking off its head.

“I told you to stay behind me,” Kailen said. He sounded only mildly irritated. The oily hobgoblin blood spattered him from head to toe.

My heart drummed at the speed of the “William Tell Overture.” It was as if I’d just finished running a marathon—though I was tired, I was also exhilarated. I’d fought back. There was a certain satisfaction that came with defending myself.

“Come here,” he said. “Quickly.” He snapped the sword shut and clipped it back to his belt.

I took a step to his side. He put a hand on my arm. A tingle spread through my blood, the faint smell of honeysuckle in my nostrils. He released me, then brushed his hands over himself. The hobgoblin blood faded and disappeared. Then he knelt and put his hand to the carpet. The oily black spots receded into nothingness. Without another word, he grabbed my hand and led me to the table. “Back to breakfast,” he said, just as the proprietress walked into the room from the kitchen.

“How is everything out here?” she asked. “Okay?”

I raised my glass of water, still breathing hard. “Absolutely wonderful,” I said. “Your dining room is very peaceful.”

She smiled, clasping her hands together. “We pride ourselves on our proximity to Portland, as well as our woodsy setting.”

Kailen, across from me, choked. He coughed a few times and lifted up a hand. “I'm fine. Fine.”

The woman left us again. The kitchen door swung shut behind her, the hinges creaking. “What was that?” I hissed at Kailen as soon as she disappeared. “Am I going to have to run from hobgoblins for the rest of my life?”

“They must have sensed your signature,” Kailen said.

“Well, what about cleanup? Why don't
you
have to do it?”

He shrugged as he used his knife to pile the last of his eggs onto his fork. “Your magic and my magic, they're different. Mine leaves a faint signature, yes, but not the kind that attracts the Fae.”

I frowned. “Wait a second—why didn't you do that for my living room floor? Make it all fresh? I'm going to have to pay for a cleaner.”

“Because I was angry with you.” Before I could make any sort of retort, he spoke again. “You handled yourself well with those hobgoblins. Only the second time you've seen them, and you're fighting them. Impressive.”

I tried to stop the flush that rose to my cheeks; all my irritation melted away in an instant. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

He still stared at me, examining my face, the eggs still on his fork. “Strong instincts. It must be tied to your emerging Fae nature.”

“Which is...?” I trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank. He still hadn't explained who was trying to kill me.

He set down his fork, the eggs forgotten. “I know I owe you a lot of answers. I just keep feeling like it's the Aranhods’ duty to tell you everything. They're your biological family after all. But things have gotten really hairy, really fast. Each of the Sidhe, the greater Fae, has their own Talents, some random, some inherited. The lesser Fae have magic as well, but not the way we do. Theirs is much more specific—as you see with the hobgoblins. For you, since you're a Changeling, I'd guess...” His gaze focused back on the face of his watch. “Shit.”

“What?” If there was anything I hated, it was not knowing things, being left out of the loop.

“It's not over.” He grabbed my hand, his other hand at his sword. “The hobgoblins were a distraction. Damn it, it's been too long since I've been truly involved with the Fae world. We have to get out of here. Now. Something's headed this way, and it's not small.”

Something
worse
than hobgoblins? What could possibly be worse? I gripped my steak knife again, taking it with me as we fled for the door. We'd made it halfway there when I received my answer.

The door dissolved into splinters. A hound, tall as a pony, bounded into the dining room. Its build was somewhere between Irish wolfhound and leopard, shaggy black hair covering it from head to toe. But where eyes should have looked at me lay only hair and unmarked flesh. It raised its nose and sniffed the air.

“Great,” Kailen muttered, “a grushound.”

The hound's ears pricked toward us; its lips curled back over its teeth.

“Well, get rid of it,” I whispered.

It stalked closer, a low growl starting in its throat. Claws, long and sharp as a cat's, sank into the maroon carpet.

“Can't,” Kailen said. “This is no hobgoblin. There's nothing else for it.” He reached a hand over and shoved me back. “Run!” He snapped out the folded sword just as the hound pounced.

Teeth and claws met metal.

Despite its lack of eyes, the hound moved with the fluid motion of a striking snake. It snapped at Kailen's arms, claws trying to find his legs. He moved out of the way of each strike, bringing his sword up just in time to block another bite. The hound bit down on the blade of the sword. For a moment I thought it might break, but Kailen jerked his arm, pulling it free and scoring a gash across the hound’s snout.

It yelped and began its attack anew. I stood in the middle of the dining room, frozen, unable to move in one direction or another. I’d always thought I handled pressure well. When my boss had told me I needed to sell six hundred more planners by the end of the month so our branch would meet its goals, I hadn’t even broken a sweat. I’d flipped through our Rolodex of our best clients and convinced each that they needed extras. When Owen and I had hosted our first Christmas dinner at our house, with both sides of our family attending, I hadn’t blinked an eye when Owen dropped the apple pie on its way out of the oven. I’d simply used my phone to hunt down a twenty-four-hour grocer, slapped a twenty in Owen’s hand, and had him pick up another. Pop quizzes in college, interviews, public speaking—all things I had handled with aplomb. But here I was, my gray ballet flats glued to the plush carpet of the dining room. My fingers had gone numb; the steak knife had fallen to the floor.

Kailen moved in a dizzying display of swordplay. The hound kept trying to get past him to where I stood.

The kitchen door opened, and the elderly woman who had served us let out a little scream before collapsing to the floor. The sound broke my dazed panic. I turned and dashed for the middle window on the wall opposite the door. It didn't look like the owner had ever replaced or updated it. I would have thought the swinging brass lock charming, the heavy-framed single-paned windows quaint, if I'd been able to admire them from the breakfast table. “Shit, shit, shit,” I swore beneath my breath as I bruised my fingers pushing on the lock. Behind me, the hound’s teeth clicked each time it closed its jaws.

The window stuck as I pushed it up. As much as I shoved, it wouldn’t move past the halfway point. I set my dignity aside, ducked my head, and began to wriggle through the opening. I dropped onto the porch, hands first, and pulled myself forward until I could bring a leg out.

As soon as I had, someone touched my other leg. “Move!” Kailen said. He slipped out the window after me, landing unceremoniously on top of me. My foot caught for a moment on the windowsill, making me wince. He rolled off, sword still in hand, and gripped the bottom of my sleeve. Before I had time to even gasp, he'd used the tip of his blade to separate the top of my sleeve from my blouse. He jerked down hard, the remaining bit of fabric ripping as it pulled free.

With the air of a soldier throwing a grenade, he balled it up and tossed it into the dining room. “Go!” he whispered in my ear, his hand coming to rest on my upper arm.

“The owner,” I gasped out.

“It won't bother her. Go!”

I didn't need to be told again. I scrambled to my feet and let Kailen guide me as we ran down the steps of the porch. My shoes pounded against the black asphalt of the parking lot, each footstep jolting my limbs and riding up my spine.

The sound of breaking glass sounded from behind us. Instinct took over. I separated from Kailen as we reached the car, swinging around the hood with more speed than I thought myself capable of. A beep sounded and the locks clicked open.

And then I made the mistake of looking up. The hound bounded over the pavement toward us, each stride seeming to cover ten of ours.

“Nicole!” Kailen yelled out. He already sat behind the wheel. The engine roared to life.

I jerked the passenger door open and stepped inside. As soon as both my feet had left asphalt, the car surged forward. The momentum threw me into a sitting position, the car door still half-opened. Jane's squeaking filled the cabin.

Kailen jerked the steering wheel, launching me toward him. My hand, still on the door, spasmed, and the door slammed shut. We pulled out of the parking lot, the trees passing overhead in a blur. A screech sounded, the harsh sound of grinding metal. I looked at the rear window and saw the hound, clinging to the trunk, claws scrabbling against the smooth surface.