Wicked Lovely (Wicked Lovely 1)

Donia didn’t even move. She blew gently, thinking: ice. A wall of ice formed around Seth, like a glass cage. “All I know is that he believes Aislinn is the one destined to be his. Once he believed I was, and this is the result of his love.”

She reached out and touched the ice, shivering as it retracted back into her skin. “That’s all I can tell you tonight. Go make your salve. Think about what I said.”

CHAPTER 22

[A] woman of the Sidhe (the faeries) came in, and said that the [girl] was chosen to be the bride of the prince of the dim kingdom, but that as it would never do for his wife to grow old and die while he was still in the first ardour of his love, she would be gifted with a faery life.

—The Celtic Twilight by William Butler Yeats (1893, 1902)

When Sunday morning came, Aislinn wasn’t surprised to find Grams up and alert. At least she waited until after breakfast to pounce.

Aislinn sat down on the floor beside Grams’ feet. She’d sat there so often over the years, letting Grams comb out her hair, listening to stories, simply being near the woman who’d raised and loved her. She didn’t want to fight, but she didn’t want to live in fear, either.

She kept her voice level as she said, “I’m almost grown, Grams. I don’t want to run and hide.”

“You don’t understand….”

“I do, actually.” Aislinn took Grams’ hand in hers. “I really, really do. They’re awful. I get that, but I can’t spend my life hiding from the world because of them.”

“Your mother was the same way, foolish, hardheaded.”

“She was?” Aislinn paused at that revelation. She’d never had any real answers when she asked about her mother’s last years.

“If she hadn’t been, she’d still be here. She was foolish. Now she’s dead.” Grams sounded feeble, more than tired—exhausted, drained. “I can’t bear to lose you too.”

“I’m not going to die, Grams. She didn’t die because of the faeries. She…”

“Shh.” Grams looked toward the door.

Aislinn sighed. “They can’t hear me in here even if they’re right outside.”

“You can’t know that.” Grams straightened her shoulders, no longer looking like the worn-out woman she had become, but like the stern disciplinarian of Aislinn’s childhood. “I’m not letting you be foolish.”

“I’ll be eighteen next year….”

“Fine. Until then, you’re still in my house. With my rules.”

“Grams, I—”

“No. From now on, it’s to and from school. You can take a taxi. You will let me know where you are. You will not walk around town at all hours.” Grams’ scowl lightened a little, but her determination did not. “Just until they stop following you. Please don’t fight me, Aislinn. I can’t go through that again.”

And there wasn’t much else to say after that.

“What about Seth?”

Grams’ expression softened. “He means that much to you?”

“He does.” Aislinn bit her lip, waiting. “He lives in a train. Steel walls.”

Grams looked at Aislinn. Finally she relented and said, “Taxi there and back. Stay inside.”

Aislinn hugged her. “I will.”

“We’ll give it a little longer. They can’t reach you in school or in here. They can’t reach you in this Seth’s train.” Grams nodded as she listed the safety measures, restricting but not yet impossible. “If it doesn’t work, though, you’ll need t

o stop going out. You understand?”

Although Aislinn felt guilty for not correcting Grams’ mistaken beliefs about school and about Seth’s, she kept her emotions as securely hidden as she did when the fey were near, saying only, “I do.”