“And don’t come back.” Evie slammed the deadbolt shut behind the two fada.
Kyler was studying her as if she had two heads.
“Damn it,” she snapped, “I am not fae.”
“Part fae.” He leaned in to sniff her. “You smell human to me.”
“Very funny.” She shoved him away, but he just chuckled. “Of course, I do. If I were fae, wouldn’t I know it?”
“Maybe. But one thing we do know—if you have fae blood and I don’t, then it’s not Mom.”
She scraped both hands through her hair. “Drop it, Kyler.”
“So it’s Fane.”
She heaved a sigh. “And God knows where he is.”
Her dad wasn’t the type to leave a forwarding address—if he even had an address to leave. Fane Morningstar came and went as the spirit moved him, and Lord knew, that wasn’t often; she could count on her fingers the number of times she’d seen him in the past ten years.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like her dad. Everyone liked him. He was tall and blond, with a laidback way of moving and talking as if time moved slower for him somehow. He always had a smile for you, and she’d never once heard him raise his voice.
If her mom asked difficult questions, like how long he was staying this time, the man just…disappeared. Evie had learned early not to count on Fane. You just enjoyed him while he was around, and then did your best to forget him when he left.
“If anyone has fae blood, it’s Fane,” Kyler said. “There’s that picture we found. You know, after Mom died.”
“Yeah.” Evie set her jaw and started tidying the kitchen, picking up the bowl and coffee cups and setting them in the sink.
They’d found the photo tucked in a cigar box along with other mementos. In it, Fane had an arm slung around their mom’s shoulders, and they were both grinning at the camera. It had to have been taken over twenty-five years ago.
The last time they’d seen Fane, he’d looked exactly the same, right down to his wide grin and unlined face.
“What are you going to do?” Kyler asked.
“Make pancakes.” She took a box of pancake mix from the cupboard.
Her brother blew out a breath. “About this fae thing.”
“Nothing.” She measured a cup of the mix into a bowl, added milk and broke an egg on top of it. “Even if it’s true, what does it matter?” she asked as she stirred the batter. “It’s not going to change anything. If I do have some fae in me, it’s probably something like one-hundredth. It’s not like I can work magic or anything.”
Kyler placed his hands on his narrow hips and shook his head. “My sister, a fae.”
She pointed her fork at him. “This is between you and me, got it? You tell anyone, and you’re toast.”
He grinned and raised his hands. “Okay, okay. Don’t shoot me with a fae ball, sis.”
“Very funny. I mean it, Kyler Ferris.” She gave the batter a vicious stir. “Just get the plates out, will you?”
“Hey, don’t be so touchy. At least you have a dad to visit you. I don’t really even remember mine. I probably wouldn’t know him if I passed him on the street.”
Evie bit her lip. She ached to hug her brother, but she knew from experience he’d shrug her off. Their eyes met.
“You’d know him.”
“Yeah, sure.” Kyler opened the cupboard and took out two plates.
After breakfast, Kyler went to school and Evie finished cleaning up. She double-bagged Jace’s bloody T-shirt and then, recalling what a good sense of smell the fada had, threw it into a dumpster on the next block. Meanwhile, she washed and dried the sheet he’d used.
In a short while, there was no trace that Jace had spent the night on her couch. She’d almost believe she’d dreamed the whole thing, except she didn’t have that good of an imagination.
How was he doing? She bit her lip. He was the kind of man who’d do too much, too soon.
Not my business, she told herself. He had his friends to take care of him now. The best thing was to forget they’d ever met.
Her mind turned to what Adric had said about her being part fae. He’d seemed so certain.
If only there was some way to get hold of her dad. But the last time she’d seen him was two years ago, right before her mom died. She wasn’t even sure how he’d heard her mom was sick, but he’d arrived in time to say goodbye. Her mom had been alert enough to smile at him, and Evie would always be grateful for that.
Fane had stayed through the death and, to Evie’s surprise, had even taken charge of the arrangements, including paying for the memorial service and cremation. On the third night he’d said, “You seem like you’re doing okay, Evie love,” and the next morning he was gone, leaving only a glittering stone on her night table…which turned out to be a diamond worth close to ten thousand dollars.
Trust her dad to give her a gift that caused even more trouble. She’d been afraid a jeweler would ask awkward questions, so she’d pawned it instead. But the pawn shop had given her five thousand for it, and she had to admit the cash had helped.
Evie shook her head and took out her laptop. She had homework to do.
That afternoon she ate an early dinner with Kyler, and then headed to the Wine Bar, an upscale restaurant on the water where she was a server. Grace Harbor was a small, historic city bordered on two sides by water—the Susquehanna River to the north, and the Chesapeake Bay to the east. This time of year, the streets were filled with boaters and weekenders. It was Friday evening, and the restaurant was packed.
She should’ve been too busy to think, but Jace kept popping into her head at odd times. That curious smile as he’d been hurt and bleeding next to her stoop. His broad shoulders and cat-like grace. The way his eyes changed from hazel to green…
“Excuse me.” The man at the table before her spoke. “Miss? Is that our food?”
Evie blinked. She was standing in the middle of the restaurant, a plate in each hand. “Sorry about that,” she said with a smile, and slid the plates in front of the man and his date.
He closed his mouth on whatever he’d been about to say and gave her a brief smile back. She smiled at the woman he was with as well, because it was low class—and bad for tips—to flirt with a guy in front of his date. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, we’re fine.” They each waved a hand, eager to assure her there was no problem. She’d always had a gift for soothing people’s feathers, making them smile. It was why she was such a good waitress.
But was there more to it than that? Her mom had said Evie’s way with people came from Fane.
Damn it, she was not going to think about it. Fae or not, what did it matter? It wasn’t like she could do anything useful, like change straw into gold. Now that would be a real Gift.
She got off work a little after eleven. She’d taken her car this time, because after last night, she was wary about walking home after dark. Now she came out of the restaurant to find a light rain falling.
Hell. She hadn’t brought an umbrella. She grabbed her keys and her backpack and hurried through the lot to where she’d parked her ancient blue compact under a street light—just in case.
At least it was a warm rain. Evie swiped the water from her face and started the car. The ignition sputtered and went dead. The car had been her mother’s, and it had grown cranky with age. It especially didn’t like wet weather.
“C’mon, hon.” She crossed her fingers and tried again, and this time the engine ground to life.
The half-mile drive home took less than five minutes. She drove slowly along the wet streets. The black iron lampposts cast a warm yellow glow. Grace Harbor had once been a workingman’s town, with crabbers, fishermen and a herring cannery, but these days, it had a funky, small-town vibe with mom-and-pop stores sharing space with art galleries, antique shops and upscale restaurants like the Wine Bar.
She passed a couple of her neighbors out for a stroll, umbrellas lifted. It was hard to believe that just last night a man had almost died right in her backyard.
She parked her car on the concrete pad behind the house, took a thorough look around, and then sprinted up the steps to her back door.
Kyler wasn’t home yet, but there was nothing unusual about that. His curfew on the weekends was midnight, and he usually came home the last possible second. That wouldn’t have bothered her, but the last few weeks he’d started pushing the curfew—coming home at twelve-thirty or one and daring her to object.
Tonight was one of those nights. She started texting him five minutes after midnight.
At least he replied, telling her not to worry.
Too late, she replied. I’m worried and I want you home. NOW.
She could see he’d viewed the text, but he didn’t reply. She sat on the easy chair, fuming, as she finished her paper. Because she was worried about him, especially after last night. What if that night fae came back? Her whole body went cold, just thinking about it.
It was almost one o’clock before Kyler sauntered in the front door, red-eyed and smelling of pot. He flopped on the couch and regarded her through slit eyes.
“Go ahead. Tell me what a bad boy I am.”
She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth hurt. “You’re only sixteen, Kyler. Too young to be out after midnight, and too damn young to be smoking weed.”
“Go to hell, Evie.” He rested his arm over his eyes. “You’re not my mom.”
Her stomach sucked in. For a few seconds, she was blinded by hurt and anger.
“No,” she said as calmly as she could, “but I’m responsible for you until you’re eighteen. If you get arrested, it’s on my watch.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell them it’s me, not you.”
“You think I care about that? I care about you, asshat. And I promised Mom I’d take care of you, damn it.”
He raised up on his elbows to glare at her. “Fuck your promise. If taking care of me is so hard, then forget it. Mom never should’ve asked—”
“Oh, for Chrissake.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“But I mean it, Kyler. From now on, you’d better be home at midnight, or I swear I’ll—” She halted because she didn’t have anything to threaten him with, and they both knew it.
Kyler levered himself off the couch. “Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
She watched as he stalked out of the living room, his thin body rigid, his T-shirt a little too small. He’d grown six inches this year so that she was barely able to keep him in clothes.
She blew out a breath and rested her head on the back of the chair.
What am I going to do with him this summer?