Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

“I’m, uh…” I gesture behind me, walking backward as I purposefully put space between us. This is just too weird for me right now. “I’m gonna go scout this place out, make sure nobody followed us here.”

“What? No. Zel—”

Nope.

I cut Callie off before she can use that name again. I tap my chest, pointedly ignoring their curious expressions as they both lock in on my glove. Even if I thought this was the right time to explain my hands, I can’t. I just… can’t.

“My name is Riley,” I remind Callie. “Riley Thorne.” I meet Ash’s strange golden gaze. “And, um, I g

uess I’m your daughter.”

I’m so glad that I still have Carolina’s money in my pocket. Without it, we’d be even more screwed than we already are.

As soon as I drop that bomb, I make my escape. I have every intention of returning—especially when Callie calls after me, asking me not to go—but I need a couple of minutes to myself, especially since Ash’s response to my revelation is to gape at me like I’ve sprouted a second head or something.

So, before either one of them can try to stop me, I continue with my excuse, telling them that I’m scouting out the building, checking out the neighborhood, going for some food, and then I rush out of the room like I’ve got the devil chasing behind me.

Only it’s not the devil. It’s my past and, yeah, that’s worse.

As I flee, I notice something. It turns out, the mess surrounding us is contained to the space we landed in.

That’s the good news.

The bad news?

Our sanctuary is not in the best part of… wherever we are.

I probably should have asked Callie for more details about where we landed other than that it was their—not my—home. Once I slip out of the room, I realize that we’re in an apartment building; there are at least four other doors on our floor, plus an elevator. The elevator is parked at the end of the hall. It smells even mustier out here, the weak lights barely enough to help guide me toward the elevator.

I tiptoe quietly since I don’t want to disturb any neighbors. It makes matters worse when I climb inside and see that we’re on the fourteenth floor. That leaves thirteen until the lobby and I keep my fingers crossed the whole time that no one joins me on the trip down.

Thinking ahead, I worry about how I’m going to sneak out of the lobby without anyone seeing me—only to discover that there’s no one around. And I mean no one. I take a side-door just in case, and snort when I see that the glass door is shattered, yellow caution tape surrounding it.

Okay. That might explain it.

Wherever we are, it’s nothing like Acorn Falls. It’s an urban environment, a city with tall skyscrapers and countless businesses and storefronts everywhere. I don’t go too far, since I’m not sure I’d be able to find my way back, and I settle on a fast food joint around the corner.

I’m anxious and worried and scared, but I’m also a little hungry so I jump at the chance for a snack. Who knows when I’ll eat again next?

I retrace my steps, going back to the building I slipped out of earlier. On second inspection, it’s a dump. I don’t know how it’s still standing. The front door has some more yellow caution tape binding it closed, and a big, red sign that reads CONDEMNED posted in the middle.

Condemned?

How nice.

Another big difference from Acorn Falls? There are homeless people on every corner. Normally, I don’t think I would notice, but after my encounter with that man right before I saw Dr. Gillespie in the deli, I’m not taking any chances. I peek closely as I scurry pass, patting my loose hair around my weirdo fae ears so that they’re hidden.

A man is slumped along the side of the building, right by the entrance that I used. I was rushing on my way out, recklessly trying to put distance between me and my parents at first, and I didn’t notice him.

On my way back in, though?

There’s something about him that makes me stop. I think back to just… shit, this morning? Technically, it was only this morning… I think back to this morning and I remember the old drunk with the watery blue eyes who tried to stop me from going into the deli.

His head is bowed, sleeping—at least, I hope he’s sleeping. I wish I could see what his face looked like, or if his eyes are blue, before chiding myself for suspecting the worst.

That was Acorn Falls. This place… isn’t.

And I’m being ridiculous.