Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

Ah, come on. Nine sent my mother down here after me?

I can’t believe this.

Pretending I don’t hear her, I keep on walking, even picking up the pace. Sure, Callie is as human as I am—well, more, since I’m half—and the tech and the iron in the world around us doesn’t affect her even a little. Whether it’s day or night out, she can chase me all she wants and, as the pitter-patter of her light steps follow behind me, I’m willing to bet that that’s her plan.

Back in March, back when Melisandre’s spell on her was first broken, she wouldn't have been able to. She’s gotten so much better lately. Once she realized that, as different as Newport is… as different as the world is… since she was captured and taken to Faerie, mostly everything around her was essentially the same at its core, she even started to take evening walks on her own.

She said it was because she wanted to see just how much everything changed. I suspected it was because she had a hard time sitting around, fretting while Ash taught me maneuvers with his sword as he helped me plot how I was going to steal Gillespie’s necklace.

Still, I know it’s not fair. The world overwhelms her, and Callie doesn’t like to be away from Ash for too long. There’s only one thing that would actually compel her to willingly leave on her own.

Me.

I turn the corner, picking up the pace, longing for the days when I could just go, even run from a cop if I wanted to, and know that no one would

be running after me.

I went from being on my own to having a mom, a dad, and a mate who wants to leave me the first chance he gets.

I scoff. Lucky me.

Nine’s less than enthusiastic reaction is messing with me. Just because he’s basically taken my heart and put it through a paper shredder, that doesn’t mean that I should take it out on Callie. She’s been nothing but kind and supportive to me since I rescued her from Faerie.

It’s not her fault that Nine’s being such a dick.

I stop short, waiting for Callie to catch up to me. When I hear her soft pants, her breathing a little heavy since she had to jog to reach me in time, I place my hands on my hips.

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

I grit my teeth to keep from snapping at her. Her question is almost innocent and, besides, if she wants to pretend that I’m not seconds away from losing it, so can I.

Exhaling roughly through my nose, I say, “For a walk.”

“By yourself? You just got back. Aren’t you hungry? Tired?” She pauses for a second, then totally blows her spot by adding, “Don’t you want to see your mate?”

“Yes to the first. Yes to the second. That’s why I’m out here.” Lie. “I saw Nine. He’s fine. Now I want to get some food, get some sleep, and put this fucking day behind me.”

Callie’s face screws up, torn between curiosity and sympathy. She doesn't know what I’ve been through—that’s on purpose—but she’d have to be way more optimistic than a fae-bonded human can be to think that I was missing for more than two days for a good reason.

She doesn’t ask, probably because I already refused to talk about it before, and it’s not like that’s why she came running after me.

And we both know it.

She drops the pretenses just a little. Instead of bringing up my trip to Black Pine, she focuses right on my Shadow Man.

“Your father told me that Ninetroir—”

My stomach lurches. Nope. Can’t handle his true name. Not right now.

“Nine,” I correct.

That doesn’t hurt so bad.

“Your father told me that Nine touched you. That he claimed you.”

“I thought he did.”