Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

It’s not a question.

Good thing, too, because I don’t receive an answer for it. Not like I needed one but, right as Callie opens her mouth as if she had something to say, we hear the soft rustle of fabric against the floor as Ash finally rolls from his back to his side before tentatively pushing himself up.

She lets out a squeal of surprise coupled with joy as Ash slowly rises. He’s weak, a little groggy, and the shadow travel didn’t do him any favors, but as he straightens, I watch as a sliver of sunlight streams in through the window, landing on his outstretched arm.

He shudders, then pulls himself up to his considerable height. Straight-backed and proud, he turns in time to open his arms right as Callie throws herself into them.

For a few moments, it’s as if I’ve disappeared. I’m gone. They only have eyes for each other.

And, though it’s been only a couple of hours real time—not accounting for travel between the human world and Faerie—since I last spoke to Nine, I miss him so bad that I hurt.

My parents are murmuring to each other, speaking in hushed murmurs. They’re not excluding me on purpose and, honestly, I’m glad. With Ash to distract Callie, it gives me a second to just breathe.

He’s alive. I didn’t kill him.

That’s a plus.

Of course, I begin to think that might’ve been a bit of a mistake when my father slowly pulls away from my mother, throwing daggers across the room to where I placed Nine.

“Ninetroir.”

His voice is low. Hard. I don’t know if it’s because he hasn’t used it in twenty years or something else since every fae I’ve ever met has the most lovely, lyrical voice, but the rasp of it immediately has me on edge.

“What is he doing here?” he asks before jabbing a finger in my direction. “And who is this girl? She’s touched…” He pauses, his lips curling back to reveal blindingly white canines as he bares his teeth. “She wears Ninetroir’s brand. How can that be?”

The name is like a punch to my gut the second time he wields it, the reminder that I let Nine touch me—that I touched him—making me ache even harder. My heart twists and I take a deep breath.

Ninetroir. Nine’s true name, one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. And Ash is using it with an angry, rough edge cutting into his voice.

I wasn’t expecting that. Nine never explained much about how he knew my dad, but I got the idea that they were… if not friends, then comrades.

Was I wrong?

Callie tilts her head back, looking up at Ash. “Don’t you remember? You gave me the pebble, you told me to find him. It was our plan. You wanted to involve Ninetroir. I only did what you said.”

I blink, stunned.

The pebble.

How does she know about the pebble?

For some reason, Nine has been carrying a pebble around with him lately. I remember thinking it was weird but not paying too much attention to it. As soon as I bring Nine back to life—and I will, I swear to myself—that’s gonna change.

I need to know more about the pebble, especially now that Callie has mentioned it like that.

Ash, it seems, knows exactly what the meaning behind the pebble is. At least, he doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. He just nods, accepting what Callie said. “That explains why Ninetroir is involved. But who is she?”

“Can’t you tell?” Callie asks. “Ash, honey, isn’t it obvious?”

I know what he’s seeing. Honestly, the two of us could pass for sisters, if not twins, we look that similar. There’s no denying that I’m related to Callie.

He scrutinizes me. I can see him putting two and two together and getting five. He doesn’t want to admit the truth that’s right in front of him.

And, shit, I can’t do this right now.

I thought I could.

I can’t.