Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

“Dr. Gillespie, did that scream come from— oh, no!”

I recognize a couple of the curious faces in front. There’s Amy, the one who opened the door and who stopped talking when she saw Gillespie fighting against the rubble of his former desk. Kelsey is standing next to her. Frankie is at their back, his slicked-back, oily hair reflecting the few remaining overhead lights.

“We need a nurse, stat,” calls out Amy, her voice going from apprehensive yet genial to business-like in an instant. “The doctor is down. Frankie, go find Nurse Pritchard. Someone has to check on him.”

A familiar blonde female works her way through the small crowd. I gulp as it seems to part, letting her through.

I slink further away, hoping that the shadows do their job.

“Allow me,” purrs Diana as she pushes past the final two techs ahead of her.

Her golden fae eyes flash as she spies Gillespie on the floor, and I’m the only one in the room who notices.

Welp. That’s my cue to get the hell out of here.

Clutching my prized necklace tight in my fist, I slip even further into the shadows and let them finally guide me home.

10

I stumble on the landing. I don’t fall, though, reaching out to steady myself against the couch as I pop into existence.

I did it.

I fucking did it.

Gillespie’s necklace is clutched in my other hand. As Callie jumps up from her place on the other end of the couch, her eyes widening as she squeaks out her mate’s name, I hold it up.

The pink crystal shimmers in the weak lamplight, throwing sparkles across the floor.

“Riley, are you okay? We were so worried!” Callie is holding onto her phone, the twin to the one I left behind in the pocket of my hoodie. She tightens her grip on it. “You didn’t call. We thought you were in trouble!”

Ash comes striding into the living room, his tawny hair streaming behind him as he glides in that eerily perfect way that the fae have. “Callie. She’s here now. It’s alright. Let her breathe.”

“Two days,” she squeaks. “Almost three. What happened?”

I’m stuck between the two of them, Callie on my right, Ash floating in on my left. All these weeks spent living with my parents and I’m still not used to being around them—or how much worry, concern, and affection is coming off them both.

I knew that my being missing would freak them out. Popping into the asylum was supposed to be an in-and-out mission. Of course, Gillespie changed all that.

I shove that all behind me. My whole life, I’ve been a pro at compartmentalizing. Don’t want to deal with it? Shove it in the back of my mind and promise that I’ll deal with it later.

If there’s one thing I learned about having parents again for the first time since I was fifteen, it’s that Callie and Ash are going to be after me to tell them where I went and what happened while I was gone.

Later.

I’ll do that later.

Wrapping the twine around my glove, tucking the nail and the seeing stone out of sight, I turn to my right—to Callie—and hold out the crystal.

“Is this it? Please, tell me this is it.”

We all know what my mission was about. Callie hesitates for a second, as if appraising the Brinkburn is the last of her worries, but she must have picked up on the urgency in my tone because she meets me halfway.

She extends her free hand, letting the crystal nestle on top of three fingers. Peering closely, she squints a little, seeing through any kind of glamour that’s protecting this stupid thing.

Finally, she nods.

I take it back from Callie before thrusting it at Ash. “Here—”