“I can’t, Tish. You stay with Iri, okay? Stay with Rabbit. Stay with Gabr—Dad.” Ani felt like something prickly was swarming inside her skin. She needed to run. The thought of staying, of not getting away, made her feel like she was choking. Irial would keep Tish and Rabbit beside him; they’d be safer without her around. She couldn’t stay trapped in the house or put them in danger.

“I need to get out for a while,” she said.

“And go where?” Tish still held on to one of Ani’s hands.

“I don’t know yet.” Ani pulled free of her sister’s hold and opened their closet. Grabbing a duffle, she started shoving a few clothes into it.

Silently, Tish helped, giving permission by her actions if not by her words. Tish held out a brush. Tears were in her eyes. “Be careful, NiNi.”

Ani hugged her, barely resisting tears at the sound of the pet name. “I’ll call.”

“Rab has your phone.” Tish reached into her pocket and pulled out her glaringly pink phone. “Take it. I’ll get yours when he’s done talking to Iri.”

Silently, Ani slipped Tish’s phone into her front pocket. They’d switched often enough that they kept each other’s contacts in both phones. “What about Glenn? I don’t have his number in my phone.”

Tish grinned. “I guess I need to go to the club then.”

“No!” Ani shuddered at the thought of her sister out alone. She pulled the phone out and flipped through the contacts. “Copy it down. He can meet you at the shop. No going anywhere alone unless Iri clears it. Okay?”

Tish wrote down the number on her hand and then she slid open the top drawer of the nightstand between their beds. Nestled under the various bras and stockings was a sgian dubh that matched the one already on Ani’s ankle.

Tish held out the black-handled knife and a black leg holster. “Take my lucky one.”

“Are you sure?” Ani patted her other leg. “I already have the prickler.”

“Take mine too. A girl can never be too careful… or too armed,” Tish quipped.

“True.” Ani lifted her pants leg and fastened the holster. She might be Dark Court enough to like carrying a traditional blade, but she wasn’t a fan of shoving it into her stocking or boot. Tradition was important, but adapting was good too.

Ani slid the knife into the holster.

Tish opened the closet. “Holy irons?”

When they were in elementary school, Irial had taken them on a series of field trips to different houses of worship. At each place, a man or woman said prayer words over a handful of blades. By the end, the girls had a box of sharp things blessed by representatives of a number of the dominant mortal faiths. Like many of the gifts Irial had given them, the “holy irons” were practical presents. One never knows, Irial had said, and we aren’t the only things that go bump in the night. Ani hated carrying the blessed steel because it was a deterrent to many faeries she’d like to get closer to, but she wasn’t going to take chances. Not now.

She shucked off her shirt, slipped on a vertical shoulder holster, adjusted it, and then slipped one of the remaining blessed blades—an eight-inch partially serrated tanto blade—into the sheath that now rested on her side.

“Hold still.” Tish straightened the holster straps. “Take it all. I’ll get Iri to restock for us.”

Ani nodded. Then she grabbed a punch knife, iron filings compressed in a pepper-spray-style container, and a spring billy. She shoved them all into her bag with her clothes. No amount of weapons would give her the strength to overcome Bananach, but overaccessorizing wasn’t a bad idea when planning a road trip. And Bananach isn’t the only trouble out there. The thought of hostile solitaries, of Ly Ergs, of being alone without the Dark Court’s protection made Ani pause—but the thought of endangering her family by remaining in town outweighed any hesitation. She grabbed a bang stick.

Tish absently folded and unfolded her hands. Her nerves were getting more unsettled, but she didn’t want to add to Ani’s stress. She never did. Her emotions said everything her words didn’t. She was afraid—but so was Ani.

And neither of us need to talk about that.

The smile Tish offered was proof that she understood the impossibility of discussing those truths. Even more telling were her words: “Dad’s going to be furious once he catches you.”

“Who says he’ll catch me? He’s not the only one with a steed now.” The thought of Gabriel hearing about her steed was all that made her happy just then. He’ll be proud. She turned her back and, softly, whispered, “Love you.”

Tish grabbed her and held on as tightly as she could. “Be careful. Please?”

“You too.” Ani held her sister just as fiercely.

Tish squeezed her harder, and then stepped back.

Together, they popped the lock and hefted the window.

With her bag slung over her shoulder, Ani climbed out and to the street. Tish dropped the bang stick to her and then closed the window carefully. The curtains fell over the window, and Tish was gone.

Tags: Melissa Marr Wicked Lovely Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net