Shadow (Touched by the Fae 2)

“My God, Riley. It is you!”

While I stand here, frozen and still, Carolina surges forward. It’s only when she’s crossed the yard, her arms open as she dashes toward me, that I realize her intention. I take a few hurried steps back, throwing my hands up t

o block her. She might not be fae, but that doesn’t mean anything to me.

Old habits die hard.

She immediately stops dead in her tracks. Her dark eyes go wide, her mouth opening to form a perfect ‘o’ before she lets her arms fall to her side.

“I’m sorry. I… I forgot. It won’t happen again.” She claps her hands together, a silent promise to keep them to herself and not touch me. So she remembers my quirk. Good. That’s something. “I’m just so glad to see you.”

Glad? Really?

Why?

Up close, she looks as tired as I feel. I can see that she’s wearing a heavy layer of caramel-colored powder to hide how deathly pale she’s become. She might have tried to cover up the dark circles that shadow her eyes, but that doesn’t work, either. Still, there’s a spark in their depths that’s undeniable, plus an honest grin splitting her chapped lips.

I don’t know why, but she really is happy to see me.

“Riley, thank goodness. I can’t believe I finally found you after all this time. Everybody’s been so worried about you. Ever since you disappeared from Black Pine, I couldn’t help but think that— oh. Oh.” The winds shifts suddenly and I can tell what caused Carolina’s soft oh by the way her nose wrinkles. “You, uh… where have you been? You kinda smell like you’ve been hiding out in a dirty bathroom or something.”

The words pop up before I can hold them back. “Sewer, actually.”

“What?”

Oops. “Forget it,” I say, shaking my head. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back at the asylum?”

It was a simple motion. Shaking my head, I mean. I don’t think anything of it—until Carolina’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes suddenly wide as she stares at me.

She doesn’t say a word. Not to answer me, not to point out that I’m still wearing my slippers, not to ask me more questions about where I’ve been. She just… stares.

I’m immediately self-conscious. Yeah, I know what I must look like. I guess once she got past my stink, she’s finally noticing that I’m a walking disaster.

“You okay?”

“Your ears,” she breathes out.

What’s that supposed to mean? My ears? What’s the matter with my ears?

I reach up, my glove probing gingerly along the lobe, then the rim. Feels fine. Nothing wrong, and if it feels more sensitive than usual, at least there’s no pain. I continue exploring, moving my fingers along the top of my ear—

Whoa.

Hang on.

Gentle exploration turns into freak-out mode in a heartbeat.

“What’s wrong with it?” I demand, tugging the top of my ear.

“They’re, um…” Carolina gulps. “They’re kinda pointy.”

Ah, hell no.

I have to see. I have to know for sure.

There’s a car parked in the next driveway over. Leaving Carolina gawking in the middle of the lawn, I race over to it, shoving my long hair over my shoulder so that I can get a perfect view of my ear as I duck down. I angle my head, getting a peek at my ear in the side view mirror.

That’s not my damn ear.