Shadow (Touched by the Fae 2)

Black Pine? Only if I want to be sedated into a stupor. That would leave me easy pickings for the Fae Queen and whatever touched human she might still have placed inside of the asylum.

I’ve got to finally say goodbye to Acorn Falls. It’s been months since my break-out and while I doubt they’re looking as intently for me, it would be super risky to stick around when someone might recognize me. With the chilly weather, my gloves and my hoodie are as much of a disguise as Carolina’s baseball cap and sunglasses. It’s still not worth the risk.

Before I go, I make a decision. It might be a stupid one, but I don’t have much choice. I’m not going to get too far without something to eat and a shit ton of caffeine to keep me moving. I don’t want to risk booking a hotel in town—and it’s not like I have ID or a credit card, either, just a big wad of cash—so I resign myself to another restless night hiding out somewhere safe.

First, though, I’m going to head into the downtown area, pray no one places my face or my gloves, and try to get something to hold me over for a bit.

There are plenty of delis and cafes on the crowded main street. I have my pick of them, and decide that the one sandwiched between a make-your-own pottery place and the brick corner seems like a good spot. Shoving my hands in my hoodie pocket, I duck my head and dash across the open alleyway that separates one block from the next.

I’m forever on alert. Sure, it’s been months and I doubt anyone expects that I’ve been hiding out in Acorn Falls all this time. Even if I wasn’t on the look-out for the cops, I’d still be glancing over my shoulder. I was taught from childhood that the fae could be anyone—or anywhere.

It wasn’t so bad when I pretended they weren’t real. Now that I’ve lost any hope that I can go back to being ignored by the fae, I’m just waiting for one of the Fae Queen’s soldiers or guards to find me like they did to my poor parents.

Right as I’m passing the alley, I see a shadowy lump leaning up against the corner’s edge. It looks like it might be a pile of garbage, especially because of the tattered rags and stained blanket that covers most of the mound. I give the pile a second look, though, because I’ve learned that you can’t be too careful.

And that’s when I see the eyes peering out of a dirty, soot-covered face.

It’s a man. At least twenty years older than I am, with weathered skin, a tangled beard, and a long, crooked nose, he’s huddled underneath a torn blanket, his chin tucked into his chest as he stares at the brick wall across from his spot.

His head swivels as I start to pass him by. I hope that he doesn’t ask me for any money. I don’t have much and, until I figure out my next step, the bundle I got from Carolina has to last.

I lower my gaze, feeling like a piece of trash myself as I pretend not to notice him. I don’t even know what he’s doing here. Acorn Falls is too well-off for the townspeople to allow bums and beggars hanging around their downtown—especially their idyllic main street. It gives me another reason to want to dash past him. I wouldn’t be surprised if the cops haven’t already been dispatched to move the guy along.

Just as I’m going past him, I hear something that has me stopping dead in my tracks.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

If I had thought to wonder what his voice would sound like, I’d have expected a harsh growl. It’s not. Kind of like the opposite actually. It’s light and lyrical and, unsurprisingly, I’m immediately on guard.

It was also a whisper. I’m not really sure if he was talking to me or himself and, despite my instinct warning me to get out of there, I edge a few steps closer to him.

Once he knows he has my attention, his head turns, staring straight ahead again.

A sickly sweet smell clings to his tattered clothes. I recognize it. It might be the middle of the afternoon, but this guy has already had a few. I breathe through my nose, trying to get the scent of booze and sweat out of my nostrils as I lock eyes with the man.

He wasn’t slurring. His eyes? Not only do they seem intelligent and clear, they’re also an electric blue. No red in sight—or, I admit, because I’m suspicious and paranoid as hell, gold.

Not that that matters. That’s glamour for you. It’s not just a charm. It’s the greatest disguise, the perfect camouflage for a dangerous predator. Unless you have the ability to see through it—like my mother—or develop the skill like Carolina had, glamour is another way for the fae to make humans into their playthings.

It can’t be Nine. He already told me straight that, for some strange reason, I’m immune to his glamour.

Could this still be a setup, though?

Oh, yeah.

I mean, Rys dressed up as a homeless squatter in the middle of Acorn Falls? Why not? After what just happened in the cemetery, I wouldn’t put it past him to regroup once he recovered, then do whatever he had to to make me pay for it.

And it’s not like he’s the only one I have to worry about coming after me, either.

“I’m sorry.” I keep my tone even. Calm. Conversational. No, I don’t suspect that you’re a Light Fae trying to trick me, why do you ask? I cock my head and squint, trying in vain to find some sign that he’s wearing a glamour like I did with Rys. “Did you say something to me?”

“That I did.” He jerks his thumb behind him. It’s unmistakably in the direction of the cafe I was heading for. “Wouldn’t go in there if I were you. Try Charlie’s on the corner of Main and Honeysuckle. Coffee’s better. Clientele, too.”

The fae are tricky. I’ve learned that the hard way.

Me?

I’m over it.