Illusions (9 page)

“Yuki.” She looked at his hand for a moment before taking it tentatively. He held it a little longer than necessary, trying to coax another smile out of her.

“Don't you have . . . a host student to walk with you?” Tamani asked as they turned and headed down the sidewalk. “Isn't that the ‘exchange' part?”

“Um . . .” She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “Not really. I'm kind of a special case.”

“So who do you live with?”

“I live alone most of the time. Not
alone
alone,” she hurriedly corrected. “I mean my host, her name's Klea, she checks on me every day and comes by all the time. She just travels for her job a lot. Don't tell the school, though,” she added, looking almost shocked at herself for telling him at all. “They think Klea's around a lot more.”

“I won't,” Tamani said, deliberately casual. He had watched her house and knew Klea hadn't set foot in the place in more than a week. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” she replied immediately.

Not a moment's hesitation.
If she was lying, she was very good at it.

“Is it lonely?”

She paused now, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Sometimes. But mostly I like it. I mean, no one tells me when to go to bed or what to watch on TV. Most kids would kill for that.”

“I know I would,” Tamani said. “My uncle's always been pretty strict with me.”
To say the least
, he added to himself. “But the older I get, the more freedom he gives me.”

Yuki turned up the path to a small house without thought. “Is this it?” Tamani asked.

Not that Tamani actually had to ask. He knew the cottage on sight. It was covered in ivy and had one small bedroom in the back, with a common area behind the front door. He knew her bedspread was purple and that she had pictures of pop stars ripped from magazines hanging on her walls. He also knew she didn't enjoy being alone as much as she claimed and spent a lot of time lying faceup on her bed just staring at the ceiling.

What she didn't know was that as long as she was in Crescent City, she would never be home alone again.

“Um, yeah,” she said quickly, startled, as if she hadn't realized how far they'd walked.

“I'll leave you here, then,” Tamani said, not wanting to overstay his welcome on their first encounter. He gestured back the way they had come with his thumb. “I kinda left my car a little way up the road.”

She smiled again, showing one shallow dimple in her left cheek that caught Tamani off guard. Not that they were exceptionally rare among the fae, but with their inherent symmetry, having one on only one side was quite uncommon. Still Tamani couldn't help smiling back. She did seem like a sweet kid. He hoped it wasn't an act.

“So,” he said, already walking slowly backward, “if I say hi to you tomorrow, you going to say hi back?”

His step faltered just a little when she didn't answer.

“Why are you doing this, Tam?” she asked after a long pause.

“Doing what?” Tamani asked, stopping now.

“This,” she said, gesturing between the two of them.

He did his best to look both playful and sheepish. “I lied,” he said carefully. “I did notice you that first day.” He shrugged and looked down at his feet. “I noticed you right away. It just took me a while to get up the guts to approach you, I guess.”

He peered up at her, watched the nervous tightening of her neck, and knew, before she responded, that he'd won. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I'll say hi.”

LAUREL STARED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR, TRYING
to decide if the bump on her back was actually as big as it seemed to her, or if she was blowing it out of proportion. In the end, she had to just drop her hair down across her back and hope for the best. David had gone into school early for a National Honor Society meeting, and Laurel decided she would walk so she could ride home with him after school. She took a glance at the clock, then hurried downstairs so she'd have time. On her way out the door Laurel grabbed an apple from the ever-present fruit basket on the counter, shouted a quick good-bye to her parents, and hurried out into the early morning sunshine.

“Care for a lift?” a voice called as Tamani's convertible pulled up beside her. Laurel hesitated. She was his friend; technically there was nothing wrong with getting a ride from him. On the other hand, he had made his intentions clear, and she didn't want to encourage him, or worse, string him along the way she had inadvertently done last year. Still, riding in a convertible was just as revitalizing as walking, and in some ways, better—she loved the feel of the wind in her face. “Thanks,” she said with a smile, pulling open the door and sliding in.

“How's the Mixing coming along?” Tamani asked as the school parking lot came into view.

“I'm almost done curing the second batch of phosphorescent,” said Laurel. “It's slow going, but I'm pretty sure I did it right this time.”

“Good timing, then. I brought you a present,” Tamani said, handing her a small, cloth-wrapped package.

Laurel could tell from the size and shape that it was the light orb she'd asked for. “Thanks! Hopefully I'll bloom tomorrow and we can start figuring things out.”

“Anything you need,” he said. “I wonder though, should you try out the experiment on living faeries first? I mean, right now, if I understand right, you're going to try to keep the plants cells alive
and
try the phosphorescent on them. Wouldn't it be better to try one thing at a time? Not that I'm trying to tell you how to be a Mixer,” Tamani added hastily.

“No, you're right,” Laurel said reluctantly, remembering how David had begged her to drink the phosphorescent. “It's just that I can't exactly come to school glowing, you know what I mean?”

“Well, maybe you don't have to. I mean, it's almost the weekend. Didn't Katya say that stuff wears off overnight? And if you did us both, we could see if there's a difference between Spring and Fall.”

“Maybe,” Laurel said distractedly. “I'm still not sure it's a good idea to drink that stuff, but maybe it could be applied directly . . . ?” Her voice trailed off as she pondered ways to test her theories.

“Laurel?”

She snapped back to attention. “What?”

He laughed. “I called your name about three times.”

They were in the parking lot. A handful of students were making their way through parked cars on their way to the school, weaving around Tamani's car and feeling very close with no roof between her and them.

“Listen,” Tamani said, pulling her attention away. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Yuki, too.”

“What about her?” Laurel asked.

“I made . . . first contact, I guess. Walked her home the other day.”

“Oh. Good, good,” Laurel said, feeling strangely exposed, sitting in Tamani's convertible in the school parking lot. She glanced up at the front doors and spotted David, waiting at the top of the steps. His meeting must have gotten out a bit early. He was looking at the car, and after a moment, headed toward them, covering the short distance quickly.

“So I'll keep working on that and hopefully she'll start to warm up to you. . . .” Tamani's voice trailed off and his eyes focused on something above Laurel's head.

Laurel shifted and met David's eyes, his smile a little tight. “Can I get that for you?” he asked, swinging her car door open.

“Sure, thanks,” Laurel said, shouldering her bag and stepping out.

“I didn't know you needed a ride,” David said, his eyes darting between her and Tamani. “You could have called me.”

“You had a meeting,” Laurel said, shrugging. “I figured we could drive home this afternoon, so I walked.”

“And I just happened by,” Tamani said, his voice very cool and casual.

“I'll bet,” David said to Tamani, putting an arm around Laurel's shoulders and leading her away from the car.

“Laurel?” Tamani called. “So, that thing? Maybe this weekend?” He let the words roll out heavy with insinuation. David took the bait.

“What thing?” David asked, his voice decidedly tense now.

“It's nothing,” Laurel said quietly, stepping between the two guys, hoping that if they couldn't see each other, they would stop sniping. “He's helping me with . . . that thing we talked about. Testing the . . . stuff.”

“Weren't we going to study for the SATs this weekend?” David asked, sounding disappointed.

“I think she has bigger problems than your human exams.”

“Oh, come on!” Laurel hissed, her glare taking in both boys now. “What is this?”

David crossed his arms over his chest guiltily, and Tamani looked like a child caught with one hand in the cookie jar. Laurel glanced between them and lowered her voice. “Listen, we have a
lot
of stuff going on and the last thing I need is to be babysitting you two. So knock it off, okay?” Without another word she slammed the car door and walked quickly toward the school.

“Laurel, wait!” David called.

But she didn't.

He caught up with her at their side-by-side lockers.

“Listen, I'm sorry. I just . . . got mad when I saw you with him. It was dumb.”

“Yeah, it was,” Laurel replied.

“I just . . . I really don't like him here. Well, he was okay before, but now he always says hi to you when we're together and he's volunteering for study sessions. . . .” He grinned sheepishly. “If you recall, that's how I lured you in once.”

“That is not what this is,” Laurel said, pushing her locker shut. “This is important and I can't deal with your ego right now.”

“It's not ego,” David said defensively. “We both know he wants to be more than just your sentry. I think it's completely understandable if I'm a little upset about that.”

“You're right,” Laurel snapped back. “If you don't trust me, it totally is.” She turned and headed for her first class, refusing to look back.

“Boys are impossible!” Laurel huffed, dropping her backpack on the floor by the register in her mom's store.

“Ah, music to my ears,” her mom said with a smile.

Laurel couldn't help but smile back, even as she rolled her eyes.

“So I take it you are escaping from said boys?” her mom asked. “Does your escape plan include a little manual labor?”

“I'm always happy to help in here, Mom.” Since Laurel and her mom had straightened out their issues last year, Laurel found herself helping in her mom's store even more than at her dad's bookstore next door. Her mom had one part-time employee now, which made talking openly a little more difficult, but on a school day in the middle of the afternoon, the store was all theirs.

“What can I do?” Laurel asked.

“I have two boxes of new stock,” her mom said. “If we work together we can sort and talk at the same time.”

“Deal.”

They worked in silence for a while before her mom finally broached the subject. “So . . . David coming up a little short in the boyfriend department?”

“Kind of,” Laurel muttered. “Well, not really, he's just not dealing with things very well. I told you about Tamani, right?”

“You did,” her mom said, smiling craftily, “but I suspected there was more to that story.”

“Well, sort of. He's started interfering in our relationship a little. And David's jealous.”

“Does he have a reason to be jealous?”

Laurel considered this, not completely sure what the answer was herself. “Maybe?”

“Is that a question?”

They both laughed and it felt like a tangible weight was lifted from Laurel's shoulders as she shared the story with her mother.

“It sounds like you stood up for yourself really well,” her mom said. After a pause she added, “Did you guys break up?”

“No!” Laurel said vehemently.

“So you're still happy with him?”

“Yes!” Laurel insisted. “He's great. He just had a bad day. You don't break up with someone because of one bad day. He's on edge because of Tam . . . ani,” she tacked on. She'd gotten too used to hearing his shortened name in school.

“But you like Tamani, too?”

“I don't know,” Laurel whispered. “I mean, I do, but it's not the same as with David.” Laurel leaned her head on her mom's shoulder, feeling more confused than ever. “I love David. He's seen me through
everything
.” She laughed. “And when I say everything, you know what I mean.”

“Yes, yes I do,” her mom said wryly. “But love is something that has to be as selfish as it is unselfish. You can't make yourself love someone because you feel like you should. Just
wanting
to love someone isn't enough.”

Laurel looked at her mother in shock. “Are you telling me to break up with David?” The thought almost frightened her.

“No,” her mom said. “I'm really not. I like David. I've never even met Tamani—which you should remedy, by the way.” She paused and laid her hand on Laurel's. “All I'm saying is that you shouldn't stay with him for the wrong reasons, even if they are noble ones. No one owes it to someone else to be their girlfriend. It's a choice you remake every day.”

Laurel nodded slowly, then paused. “I love him, Mom.”

“I know you do. But there are a lot of different kinds of love.”

SPURRED BY HER MOM'S ENCOURAGEMENT, LAUREL
decided there was no reason she couldn't have Tamani over. As a friend. So Friday night she called him on his iPhone for the first time and asked if he wanted to come over Saturday to help her with research. And by research, she meant
research
. Her mom wasn't going to be home to actually meet Tamani—Saturdays were her busiest day at the store—but her dad was there. It was a start.

The doorbell rang and Laurel's dad hollered that he would get it. There was no way she could beat him to the door. Delay tactics were her next best bet. She glanced over her shoulder again, staring at her blossom in the mirror. It was as beautiful—and whole—as ever. After a troll ripped out a handful of her petals last year, she'd been concerned it wouldn't grow back the same. Fortunately, the new blossom didn't look like it had been affected by the trauma at all. It was still a rich, dark blue at its center, fading to almost white at its tips. The petals fanned out in a four-pointed star that—even now that she knew what it was—looked like wings. Sometimes, when it wasn't terrifying or incon-veniencing her, Laurel loved her blossom.

And introducing Tamani to her father while she was blooming definitely qualified as inconvenient.

Trying to stifle her nerves, Laurel adjusted her green halter-top and smoothed her capris before walking over to the door and opening it a crack. She listened for a few seconds until she heard Tamani's soft brogue travel up the stairs. It would be worse than a disaster to head down with her blossom out, only to find that the doorbell had simply been a chatty neighbor.

Not for the first time that morning she considered calling David. He'd emailed her last night and apologized again but she hadn't responded yet. Truth was, she didn't know what to say. About an hour earlier she'd actually picked up the phone and started to dial. But the middle of an experiment with Tamani was not the time to work through their issues and she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate if David came over now and there was still tension.
I'll call him as soon as Tamani leaves
, she promised herself.

She could hear Tamani and her dad talking as she slowly descended the stairs. It was weird to hear them together, and made her feel strangely jealous. For two years now Tamani had been
her
secret—her special person. Except for a few times with David, she hadn't had to share him at all. Sometimes she wished she could go back to the way things used to be. When he had deep-green eyes and longish hair and didn't wear shoes or jeans. When he was just hers.

She almost didn't notice when the buzz of conversation stopped. All eyes were on her. “Hey,” she said with a lame wave.

“Hey is right!” her dad said, his voice loud with excitement. “Look at you! I didn't know you were blossoming.”

Laurel shrugged. “It's not a big deal,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage with Tamani standing right there, staring at her blossom, his expression guarded.

Abruptly, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Oh, yeah.

“So,” Laurel said, forcing a smile as her dad continued to gawk at her petals and Tamani looked studiously away. “Dad, Tamani. Tamani, Dad.”

“Yeah, Tamani was just telling me a little about his life as a sentry. I think it's fascinating.”

“You think everything about the fae is fascinating,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes.

“And why shouldn't I?” He crossed his arms over her chest and looked at her proudly.

Laurel squirmed at the attention. “Well, we have work to do,” Laurel said, inclining her head toward the stairs.

“Homework?” Laurel's dad asked, clearly disbelieving.

“Faerie stuff,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “Tamani has generously agreed to donate his body to my research.” The words were out of Laurel's mouth before she realized how bad they sounded. “I mean he's helping me,” she corrected herself, feeling like an idiot.

“Awesome! Can I watch?” her dad asked, sounding more like a little boy than a grown man.

“Sure, because my dad watching over my shoulder won't be awkward at all,” Laurel said cheerfully.

“Fine,” he said, moving over to give her a hug. With his mouth close to her ear he whispered, “You look gorgeous. Keep your door open.”

“Dad!” Laurel hissed, but he only raised an eyebrow at her. She chanced a glance at Tamani, but he just looked bemused. “Fine,” she said, then pulled away and began walking toward the steps. “It's this way,” she said to Tamani.

Tamani paused for a second, then walked over to Laurel's dad and stuck out his hand, which Laurel noted was temporarily free of pollen, probably courtesy of Tamani's pocket-lining. “Great to meet you, Mr. Sewell,” he said.

“Absolutely, Tam.” Laurel cringed. It sounded twice as bizarre coming out of her dad's mouth. “We'll have to talk more one of these days.”

“Sure,” Tamani said, reaching his other hand up to clasp her dad's shoulder. “But for now, wow, it's Saturday—your store must be really busy.”

“Oh, it usually gets busy at about twelve,” he said, pointing to the clock that read just after eleven.

“Sure, but school started a few weeks ago and people always want books for school, right? I bet they're really busy down there and could use your help. You should go to the store. Help out. We'll be fine here.”

It took Laurel about three seconds to realize what was happening.

“You know, you're right,” her dad said, his voice sounding a little far away. “I should go help them.”

“Well, it was good to see you for a little while at least. I'm sure I'll see you again.”

“Yep, that would be great!” Laurel's dad said, looking a little more like himself. “Well, you two get some good work done. I think I'm going to go down and help Maddie out at the store. It's a Saturday; I bet it's busy.” He grabbed his car keys and was out the door.

“Okay,” Laurel said, turning to Tamani, “
not
cool.”

“What?” Tamani asked, looking genuinely confused. “I got him out of the way.”

“Him? That
him
is my dad!”

“Enticement doesn't hurt him,” Tamani protested. “Besides, I've been living on my own for years—I don't do well with hovering parents.”

“My house, my rules,” Laurel said sternly. “Don't do it again.”

“All right, fine,” Tamani said, raising his hands in front of him. He paused and looked up to where she was standing, a few steps above him. “He was right though, you do look gorgeous.”

Her anger evaporated and she found herself staring at the floor, trying to think of something to say.

“Come on,” Tamani said, sweeping past her, a picture of unaffected nonchalance. “Let's get started.”

Over the past few years, Laurel's room had gone from a fairly typical teenager's room to a pink, fluffy chemistry lab. Her gauzy curtains and girlish bedspread were the same, and the prisms strung along her window still sparkled in the sun and cast rainbows across her room. But instead of bouncing off CDs, makeup, books, and clothes, the light caught vials, mortars, and reagents—bags of leaves, bottles of oils, and baskets of drying flowers.

At least her room always smelled good.

Laurel sat at her desk chair and gestured to a pink vanity stool for Tamani, trying not to think about how often David had sat in that same chair to watch her work.

“So,” Tamani said, talking more to her blossom than her face. “What have you got so far?”

“Uh,” Laurel said, trying to ignore the tightening in her chest, “not a whole lot, actually. I made the phosphorescent right, so that's good. I tried to make some Cyoan powder too, but it's just way beyond me.”

“Why Cyoan? That won't tell you anything about a faerie.”

“But we want something similar. And sometimes, when a Mixing is going really well and I make a mistake, I get this feeling like, well, I don't even know how to describe it. It's like when I'm playing my guitar, and I play a chord and it sounds right, but I know it's wrong because it's not, you know, what I was
going
for. . . .”

Tamani was smiling helplessly. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Laurel laughed. “Me either! And that's kind of the problem. I think Katya's right, that different kinds of faeries must process light differently. Like, I like sunlight, but I don't really use it in my Mixing. And Spring faeries . . . I think you guys are adaptable. I mean, you stay up all night sometimes, right?”

“Frequently,” Tamani said, in a weary tone that suggested that he'd been staying up a lot of nights lately.

“And the sentries in Hokkaido can withstand enormous amounts of cold.”

Tamani hesitated. “Well, yes, but they have help from the Fall faeries with that. They make them a special tea from—”

“White Bryony, I remember,” Laurel said. “But still, the energy has to come from somewhere. And the Winter faeries use a ton of energy when they . . . what?” she demanded, when Tamani got a strange brightness in his eyes.

“Listen to you,” he said, pride creeping into his tone. “You're amazing. You totally get this stuff. I knew you would slip right back into being a Fall faerie.”

Laurel hid a smile as she cleared her throat and busied herself meaninglessly with an already-powdered mixture at the bottom of her mortar.

“So what do we do?” Tamani asked.

“I don't know. I still don't think we should drink this stuff. I wondered if it might have an effect on our skin—”

Immediately, Tamani offered her his forearm.

“—but I'm not about to start trying stuff at random. Mixing is pretty hands-on,” Laurel said. “I mean touch-dependent,” she amended. “I mean—before I try anything, I want to get a feel for your cellular makeup, which means I need to touch . . . you.”

Could that possibly have come out any worse?
Laurel thought dismally as she watched Tamani try—and fail—to suppress his amusement.

“Okay,” he said, again holding out his hand, which was sparkling with pollen and looking more than a little magical.

“Actually,” Laurel said slowly, “what I'd really like to do is have you—” Pause. “Take your shirt off and then go to the window and sit in the sunlight. That way your cells can start actively photosynthesizing after having been at rest and I can hopefully feel that activity.”

“That almost makes sense,” Tamani said with a smirk. He walked over to her window seat and sat, then waited for her to come sit behind him. She was careful not to actually let any part of them touch. Not just because it wasn't a good idea and severely hampered her concentration, but she had learned that if she could keep the rest of her body away from any kind of plant material, her fingers seemed more receptive.

“You ready?” Tamani asked, his voice soft and vaguely suggestive.

Laurel glanced out the window. The sun had just popped out from behind a cloud. “Perfect,” she said quietly. “Go ahead.”

Tamani stretched his long arms over his head, pulling off his T-shirt.

Laurel struggled for focus. She moved her hands to Tamani's back and splayed her fingers over his skin. Her fingertips pressed in just a little as she closed her eyes and tried to feel, not Tamani in particular, but his cellular dynamics.

She cocked her head to the side as the sun warmed the back of her hands. It took her only a moment to realize her mistake. She was now blocking Tamani's skin from the sun's rays. With a frustrated sigh, she lifted her hands, and placed them back down, this time lower and along one side of his ribs where the sun had just been shining. She felt him shift a little, but she was in concentration mode now, and even Tamani couldn't affect her.

Much.

Laurel had learned from Yeardley how to feel the essential nature of any plant she touched. He assured her that, with study and practice, this feeling would eventually tell her everything she needed to know about a plant—particularly, what it could do if mixed with other plants. She should be able to do the same with Tamani. And if she could find some way to feel the differences between the two of them . . .

But every time she thought she'd felt something, it faded. She wasn't sure whether it was because she kept blocking the sunlight, or because the differences she was looking for simply didn't exist. And the harder she tried, the less she seemed to find. By the time she realized she was squeezing Tamani so hard her fingers were aching, she couldn't feel any difference at all.

She let go of Tamani and tried not to notice the subtle divots her fingers had left in his back.

“Well?” Tamani asked, turning to her and leaning against the window without making any move to put his shirt back on.

Laurel sighed, frustration washing over her again. “There was . . . something, but it's like it went away.”

“Do you want to do it again?” Tamani leaned forward, bringing his face close to hers. He spoke softly, genuinely. No trace of flirting or teasing.

“I don't think it would help.” She was still trying to sort out the sensations she felt in her fingertips. Like a word on the tip of her tongue, or an interrupted sneeze, so close that staring at it would only chase it away. She closed her eyes and placed her fingers against her temples, massaging them slowly, sensing the life in her own cells. It was as familiar as ever.

“I wish . . . I wish that I could . . . feel you better,” she said, wishing she knew a better way to say it. “I just, I can't quite get at what I'm trying to reach. It's like your skin is in the way. At the Academy I would slice my sample open, but obviously that's not an option right now,” she said with a laugh.

“What else do you do when you can't figure out what a plant does? Besides cut it open, I mean,” Tamani asked.