Shadow (Touched by the Fae 2)

But she didn’t. And I don’t get it.

When I ask Nine, he doesn’t act surprised that I’ve picked up on that. He does seem pleased, though.

“It’s because you’re the Shadow,” he explains. “None of us know what the extent of your power is. When you were an infant, you were shade-walking better than fae who had existed for more than a hundred years. The shadows obey you. They protect you, too. Iron doesn’t harm you. And when it comes to the touch...”

He trails off his sentence. I wait to see if he’ll finish it and, when he doesn’t, I prod him. “The touch?”

“It’s different with you,” Nine says. And he leaves it at that.

“So what’s all that supposed to mean?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. But I would’ve expected Melisandre to take out the threat the moment you landed in Faerie. It’s why I insisted on you carrying part of my shadow wherever you went. As soon as you crossed into my world, I could get to you so long as you needed me.”

“Your shadow?” I echo. “Is that what that scarf thing was?”

Nine nods. “I told you that you should’ve known what it was. I gave you part of my shadow to shield you while you learned how to conjure your own.”

That’s… okay, that’s kind of cool. And now I feel a little stupid. For all the times I wrapped myself in blankets made of shadow, I never realized that Nine’s scrap of fabric was the same thing.

Probably because it’s thicker, stronger, and more real than any of the shadows I pull toward me. Makes sense, I guess. Nine’s been around longer than me. Plus, as a Dark Fae, he must be a pro at manipulating shadows.

I have so much I could learn from him. Now that he’s opening up to me, I’m probably going to have to leave him.

Because that’s just my luck.

“I still don’t get it, Nine. If you thought she’d gun for me, and I sure as hell did, why is she giving me the choice? Why am I still talking and moving instead of acting like I’m made of rock already?”

“I assume it’s because you are the Shadow. Your magic is too different, too unpredictable. The only thing I can think is that Melisandre did attempt to immobilize you, then turned to the bargain when it failed.”

I’m still getting a crash course in what it’s like to be half-fae and the star of some ancient prophecy, but I’ve gotta agree with Nine. If she could’ve done it, she totally would have.

Which means that, if I want to make the best of this situation, I’ve only got one choice.

I can’t escape. How could I? First off, I’m in Faerie jail. Second, it’s not like there are a bunch of shadows or pockets lying around that I can use. Spoiler alert: in this bright, white palace, the only one I’ve seen is the one created when I threw Nine’s shadow in the throne room.

And third?

I can’t abandon my parents and Nine.

I can’t.

I’ve spent my whole life being left behind by anyone and everyone I ever cared about it. Against my better judgment, I let my guard down around Nine again these last few weeks. And my parents… they didn’t want to leave me. It wasn’t their choice. I won’t leave them like that if there’s anything I can do to change it.

I can tell the second Nine understands that I’ve made up my mind. And it’s not like I’m trying to be a martyr or anything, even if I, you know, am. What do I have to look forward to anyway? Being chased by the Fae Queen, forced to dodge the might of her Court, avoiding Faerie—which means I’ll never be able to shadow travel again—and avoiding Dr. Gillespie at the same time. No way I’ve forgotten the weirdo stone he used to find me.

My old Black Pine psychologist is in this up to his fiery red eyebrows. If he was still looking for me months after my break-out, something tells me he’s got his reasons.

Nine obviously doesn’t return my feelings for him. Oh, he cares—in his own way, he definitely cares. But it’s not the same.

It might be better to be a statue where panic attacks, burned hands, and a life of being chased are far behind me.

Nine steps toward me. He starts to reach for my hand, thinks better of it, then lays his arm at his side. Shame. I would’ve liked for him to touch me one last time before I tell the queen that I’ll accept her bargain.

His voice drops. It’s low and husky, and still one of the most alluring things I’ve ever heard. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“You should never trust the fae, Shadow. Haven’t I taught you anything?”