The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey: Call of the Forgotten 2)

Kenzie let me go, and, suddenly feeling my injuries, I maneuvered painfully into a seated position. “You can stitch me up all you want,” I grumbled as the gnome’s index finger became a pair of tiny scissors and began cutting away my arm wrap. “They’re still going to freak out when they see me half-drenched in blood. I see an emergency room visit in my future.”

“Not necessarily,” the gnome returned, and waved its regular arm. I felt the tingle of glamour settle over me as the blood on my shirt abruptly...vanished. Holes disappeared, tears stitched themselves together and my clothes looked perfectly normal again. Beside me, Kenzie drew in a sharp breath, even as I recoiled, not wanting any faery glamour put on me, even if it seemed harmless.

“Oh, calm down,” the gnome said, taking my arm again. “It’s an illusion, nothing more. But it will break the second you remove your clothes, so I suggest you make sure you are alone when you decide to change. As for these—” it plucked at the sleeve of my shirt “—I suggest a nice bonfire.”

* * *

When I’d gotten home that night, I’d been bracing myself for an interrogation. Thanks to my sister disappearing into Faeryland thirteen years ago, my parents were paranoid and overprotective to the nth degree. If I was out five minutes past curfew, Mom would be calling my phone, demanding to know where I was, if I was all right. As I’d slipped through the front door that night, I still hadn’t known what I was going to tell them, but when I’d seen them in the living room, waiting for me, I’d realized they already knew.

It seemed they had received a visit from the Iron Queen that very night, and Meghan had told them I was safe. That I had been with her in the Nevernever and I was on my way home. She didn’t tell them the whole truth, of course; she’d left out the parts with Keirran, and the Forgotten, and how I’d almost died a few times. I’d thought Mom and Dad would want the rest of the story; even if they couldn’t see the bloodstains covering my clothes, or the stitched wounds beneath them, they’d had to know something had gone down in Faeryland. But whatever Meghan had told them seemed to be enough. Mom had just hugged the breath out of me, asked if I was all right about four dozen times and left it at that.

Truthfully, I didn’t think she wanted to know. Mom was terrified of the fey and thought that if she pretended they didn’t exist, they wouldn’t harass us. Which kind of sucked for me, because they did. But, at least that night, I’d been glad I didn’t have to explain myself. It wasn’t often that I was let off the hook. I’d just hoped Kenzie’s family was as understanding.

Kenzie. I sighed, scrubbing my hand through my hair, worried again. I hadn’t seen her since the night she went home, back to her dad and her stepmom. I’d tried calling her over the weekend, but either her phone was still dead or it had been taken away, because my calls went straight to voice mail. Worried and restless, I’d gotten to school early this morning in the hopes of seeing her, finding out how her family had taken her abrupt disappearance, but I’d been pulled into the principal’s office before I could catch a glimpse of the girl who was very suddenly my whole world.

Morose, I headed back to class, still scanning the hall for any glimpse of blue-streaked black hair, irrationally hoping to run into Kenzie on her way to the principal’s office. I didn’t see her, of course, but I did pass a group of girls in the hall, talking and laughing beneath the bathroom sign. They fell silent as I passed, staring at me with wide eyes, and I heard the murmurs erupt as soon as my back was turned.

“Oh, my God, that’s him.”

“Did you hear he forced Kenzie to run away with him last week? They were on the other side of the country before the police finally caught them.”

“So that’s why the cops are here. Why isn’t he in jail?”

I clenched my jaw and kept walking. Gossip rarely bothered me—I was so used to it by now. And most of the more colorful rumors were so far off it was laughable. But I hated the thought that, just by being around me, Kenzie would be the target of speculation. It was already starting.

She wasn’t in any of the classes we shared, which made it difficult to concentrate on anything happening around me. Even so, I caught suspicious glances thrown my way, whispers whenever I slid into my desk, the hard stares of some of the popular kids. Kenzie’s friends. I kept my head down and my usual “leave me the hell alone” posture going, until the bell rang for lunch.

Kenzie still hadn’t made an appearance. I almost went down to the cafeteria, just to see if she was there, before catching myself with a grimace. Geez, what are you doing, Ethan? You’ve gone completely stupid for this girl. She’s not here today. Just accept that already.

As I hesitated in the corridor, trying to decide which direction to go, my nerves prickled and the hair on the back of my neck stood up, a sure warning that I was being watched—or stalked. Wary, I casually scanned the surging throng of teenagers for anything that might belong to the Invisible World, the world only I could see. The source of my unease wasn’t a faery, however. It was worse.

Football star Brian Kingston and three of his friends were pushing their way through the corridor, broad shoulders and thick arms parting the crowd with ease. By their faces and the way they were scanning the halls, it was obvious they were on the warpath. Or at least the quarterback was, with his ruddy face and thick jaw set for a fight. I could just guess who was the target of his wrath.

Great.

I turned and melted into the throng, heading in the opposite direction, hoping to disappear and find someplace I could be alone. Where vengeful football jocks and their cronies couldn’t smash my face into lockers, where I didn’t have to hear whispers of how I’d kidnapped Kenzie and forced her to go to New York with me.

Once more, maybe by fate, I found myself back in the library, the quiet murmurs and rustle of paper bringing with it a storm of memories. I’d come here during the first week of school, too, in an attempt to avoid Kingston. It was also here that I’d promised to meet Kenzie for one of her infamous interviews. And it was here that I’d held my last lucid conversation with Todd, right before he vanished.

Hiding my lunch under my jacket, I ignored the no-food-or-drink sign on the front desk and sauntered into the back aisles. I earned a suspicious glare from the librarian, who watched me over her glasses, but at least Kingston and his thugs wouldn’t follow me here.

I found a quiet corner and sank down against the wall, engulfed in déjà vu. Dammit, I just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? I wanted to get through a school day without getting beat up, threatened with expulsion or arrested. And I wanted, for once, to just have a day where I could take my girlfriend out to the movies or to dinner without some faery messing everything up. Something like normal. Was that ever going to happen?

* * *

When the last bell rang, I grabbed my books and hurried to the parking lot, hoping to make it out before Kingston or any of Kenzie’s friends. No one stopped or followed me in the halls, but when I started toward my beat-up truck, parked at the far end of the lot, my nerves went rigid.

Brian Kingston was sitting on the hood, legs swinging off the edge, smirking at me. Two of his football buddies leaned against the side, blocking the door.

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?” Kingston asked, sliding to the ground. His cronies pressed behind him, and I took a deep breath to calm down. At least they hadn’t damaged my truck in any obvious way...yet. The tires didn’t look slashed, and I didn’t see any key marks in the paint, so that was something. “Been wanting to talk to you all afternoon.”

I shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet. He didn’t want to talk. Everything about him said he was itching for a fight. “Do we really have to do this now?” I asked, keeping a wary eye on all three of them. Dammit, I did not need this, but if the choices were “fight” or “get my ass kicked,” I wasn’t going to get stomped on. I supposed I could have run away like a coward, but the fallout of that might be even worse. These three didn’t scare me; I’d faced down goblins, redcaps, a lindwurm and a whole legion of murderous, ghostly fey who sucked the glamour out of their normal kin. I’d fought things that were trying their best to kill me, and I was still here. A trio of unarmed humans, thick-necked and muscle-headed as they were, didn’t register very high on my threat meter, but I’d rather not get expelled on my first day back if I could help it.

“This is stupid, Kingston,” I snapped, backing away as his cronies tried to flank me. If they lunged, I’d need to get out of the way fast. “What the hell do you want? What do you think I’ve done now?”

“Like you don’t know.” Kingston sneered. “Don’t play stupid, freak. I told you to stay away from Mackenzie, didn’t I? I warned you what would happen, and you didn’t listen. Everyone knows you dragged her off to New York last week. I don’t know why the cops didn’t toss your ass in jail for kidnapping.”

“She asked me to take her,” I argued. “I didn’t drag her anywhere. She wanted to see New York, and her dad wouldn’t let her go, so she asked me.” Lies to cover up more lies. I wondered if there would ever come a point where I didn’t have to lie to everyone.

“Yeah, and now look where she is,” Kingston shot back. “I don’t know what you did to her while you were gone, but you’re gonna wish you never came here.”

“Wait. What?” I frowned, still trying to keep the jocks in my sights. “What do you mean? Where is Kenzie now?”

Kingston shook his head. “You didn’t hear, freak? God, you are a bastard.” He stepped forward, eyes narrowing in pure contempt. “Kenzie is in the hospital.”

CHAPTER TWO

MACKENZIE’S FATHER

My stomach dropped.

“She’s in the hospital?” I repeated as fear and horror spread through my insides. I remembered something Kenzie had told me about herself while we were in Faery, something big and dark and terrifying. “Why?”

“You tell me.” Kingston clenched his fists. “You put her there.”

Pain exploded through my side; one of the other jocks had lunged in with a punch to my ribs while I was distracted, knocking me to the side. I gasped and staggered away, ducking beneath the other’s left hook and raising my fists in a boxing stance as all three came at me.

Kingston swung viciously at my face; I jerked my head back, letting the knuckles graze me, before lunging forward with a body shot that bent him forward with a grunt. At the same time, one of his friends hammered a fist into my unprotected back. I winced, absorbing the blow, then spun around Kingston to use him as a shield. He snarled and threw an elbow back, trying to bash me in the face. I caught his arm, pivoted him around in a circle and threw him into his friend.

As they both toppled and rolled to the concrete, the last jock slammed into me from behind, wrapping me in a bear hug, pinning my arms. I jerked my head back, cracking my skull into his nose, and the jock shrieked a curse. Slipping from his grasp, I whirled behind him, drove my foot into the back of his knee and yanked down on his shoulders. He hit the pavement with a gusty whoof, expelling all the air from his lungs, and lay there dazed.