Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (10 page)

Kailen turned into the parking lot of a gas station, pulling behind it and stopping at the kiosk for the car wash. “Because there is. That's the short, Cliff notes version. The thing is, the hobgoblins and the grushound—they're from another Fae family, probably from one that doesn't like the Aranhods. The Guardians will figure out what’s happened with your manifestation, and then they'll be after us too.”

“Fae police?” I guessed.

“Something like that. There are some good ones, but a lot of corrupt ones. They may have just been hanging back, waiting to see what the most powerful families would do.” He rolled down the window, pulled out his wallet, and slipped his credit card into the slot. He pulled it back out and punched a few numbers into the kiosk. “First things first. We shake the grushound. Can't shake it off forever, but we can delay it in two ways. Cover your scent, and eliminate it.”

“Well, this all makes sense,” Owen grumbled from the backseat. “Maybe you can drop me off at my brother's apartment when you're done being incomprehensible?”

I ignored him. “Well, why was I created if it's illegal? Everything you say about the Aranhods makes them sound like a respectable family.”

“Respectable by Fae standards,” Kailen said. “I don't really know. I'm just doing my job.”

I sat back as he pulled into the wash, watching the nozzles descend and spray the car with soapy water. The steady thrumming of water against glass did nothing to soothe me. I'd forgotten for a moment that I was just a job to Kailen. Presumably he'd hand me off to the Aranhods, get paid, and I'd have someone else to guide me through this madness. But Kailen had become familiar to me—not a friend, but not a stranger, either. I didn't want someone else. I mean, I hated his abruptness, his confidence that bordered on arrogance, and he seemed to know how to get under my skin almost as well as Owen did. But he gave me some measure of security in my newly upended world.

The brushes trailed over the outside of the car, swathing us, for a moment, in blue. Jane had settled onto the dashboard, her head resting on her paws. A moment of near-silence in a very busy day. My stomach growled.

I leaned my head against the window as the water pounded against the car again, rinsing off the soap. “My parents—my adoptive ones—have a lot of explaining to do,” I said.

“You're adopted?” Owen said from the back seat.

Again, his selective hearing amazed me. Had he not heard “turn Jane back into a person” or any of the explanation on the Fae? I couldn't muster up enough emotion for my traditional annoyance. My head hurt, my arms and legs ached, and I was ready to fall asleep at the mere sight of a bed. “Yes, I am,” I said. “I found out yesterday, or maybe it was the day before. I don't think it matters.”

“Jesus, Nicole,” Owen said, his voice quiet. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it happens,” I said with a shrug. The dryer started. Kailen took the car out of park and inched it forward. I closed my eyes. What would I say to my parents, my adoptive ones? They'd kept my origins a secret for so long. Why? It would have to wait.

“We’re going to drive around for a bit to get rid of the last traces of your scent, and then I'm taking you to a coffee shop,” Kailen said. He seemed to pick up on the mood in the car, and spoke in a subdued voice. “Strong smells in coffee shops. They’ll serve as a mask and we'll have the chance to sit and have a chat.”

No one said anything to this pronouncement. Owen, in the back, only sighed and fiddled with the buckle on his seatbelt.

About thirty minutes later, we pulled up to Coava Coffee Roasters. Kailen left the car first. I had the time to undo my seatbelt before he opened the door for me. After I stepped out, he leaned back in to pick up Jane. Owen opened his own door and sidled up next to me. “Real gentleman type, isn't he? Is that the sort of thing you like?”

“Mousy, middle-aged women, is that the sort of thing
you
like?” I said. That shut him up.

“Try not to draw attention to yourselves,” Kailen said. “And, Nicole, don't touch anything.”

I pulled Kailen's jacket tight around myself, its aroma wafting up to my nostrils. I couldn't place the smell—something exotic, slightly spicy, faintly sweet. When I inhaled again, it had disappeared.

Coava Coffee was large by coffee shop standards. The inside looked like a cross between a woodshop and a modern art gallery, with concrete flooring and exposed beams. The baristas behind the counter did brisk business, the sound of the steamer cutting through the sporadic conversations. “Take a seat,” Kailen said. “I'll be right back.”

I picked a table at the center, with a clear view of the door. I didn't want the grushound to take us by surprise, not again. Owen sat down opposite me. He leaned in as soon as he'd taken his seat. “I don't know if you owe this guy money or something, but we're in a public place. If we leave now he can't do anything about it.”

I stared at him. Very selective hearing, apparently. “Owen, don't be stupid. He's not a bad guy. He's saved my life.”

“Or so he would have you believe,” Owen said. The look in his gray eyes spelled out “dead serious.” He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

“He did not kidnap me, Owen,” I said. “Despite appearances.”

Owen sat back, spreading his hands wide. “See? That's how it starts.”

I checked the windows, almost wishing the grushound would appear, right now, just to wipe the smug look off of Owen's face.

Kailen arrived at our table, a take away cup in his hand, steam rising from the lid. He set it on the table and took the seat between Owen and me. Owen reached for the coffee cup. Kailen slapped his hand. “Really? It's for Nicole, not you. Time for some Magic 101,” Kailen said. “I want you to turn this hot coffee into iced tea.” His breast pocket bulged from where he'd placed Jane. She didn't peek her head out. I supposed some situations were just too awkward to not want to hide from. “Imagine the hot coffee cold as ice, the coffee changing color, taste, and smell.”

I breathed out and closed my eyes. Okay, coffee in the cup, that was easy enough. It was right in front of me, its aroma wafting over the table. I tried to concentrate through the din of the cafe, imagining the coffee going cold, ice cubes appearing, the coffee itself changing into tea.

Kailen's voice layered itself on top of my imagination. “Now pack that with an emotional punch—push it forward into reality.”

The image of the coffee changing into iced tea wavered in my head. What kind of emotional punch could I put behind this? I didn't have a lot of fondness or nostalgia associated with coffee. I drank it sometimes. Iced tea? I'd drunk it once as a kid because I'd pressed the wrong button on the soda machine. Could I harness the disappointment from that? Now that would be reaching.

“It doesn't have to be associated with the change or with either item,” Kailen said. He must have leaned toward me. His breath tickled my ear. “Just something to push it forward. Come on, Nicole. I know you can do this.”

Fine. Any emotion. What about joy? I thought about spending time with Lainey, trying to juggle the memory of having a drink with my sister with the image of the coffee turning into iced tea. I pushed joy against the image of the coffee. It shifted somehow, changing, becoming more real. And then I ran against a wall. I pushed harder and the image shattered, dissolving into the darkness behind my eyelids. I opened my eyes, staring back at Kailen and Owen. “I'm close, but there's a wall. When I push any harder, it just goes to pieces.”

“Try harder,” Kailen said. “Really concentrate on the visual, and bring the emotion to a peak before using it to push.”

I nodded and closed my eyes again.

“Concentrate on the visual,” Owen's voice cut through my half-formed image in a high-pitched and wholly inaccurate imitation of Kailen. “How can you even stand to be around this guy? He spouts some New Age shit, and you're eating out of his hand.”

My eyes flew open. “You just don't know when to stop talking, do you?”

“I wish I did,” Owen said. “I can't tell you how many times I've wasted my breath trying to talk to you when you were clearly not listening.”

“Yes, because I just loved hearing about how long your toenails were that you just clipped, or the fifth iteration of the story about the time you and your brother knocked down a hornet's nest with a baseball bat.”

“You always like to dismiss the things I have to say as unimportant,” Owen said.

I rubbed at my temples and sighed. “We can talk about it later, okay?” I tried again to concentrate on the image of the coffee turning into tea.

“Hold on,” Kailen said. He turned to Owen, his arms crossed, head cocked to the side. “You know, I've noticed she doesn't like to listen to me. Tell me more about this.”

What?

Owen didn't pause to consider why Kailen and he were suddenly best friends. He took the opportunity. “For the first few months after Nicole got her new job, I asked her every single day how her day was when she got home. She hardly ever asked me how my day was, and when I tried to tell her, she'd be in the middle of something—eating, reading, taking a shower, cleaning—and tell me she didn't have the time right then.”

Kailen nodded in an understanding manner. “Oh, that sounds very like what I know of her so far.”

“This is ridiculous,” I sputtered. “The only reason I told you I didn't have time was because I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Your days weren't just boring, Owen, they were juvenile. When you were getting your teaching credential, you spent half your time studying and half your time partying with your friends, at all times of the day. Why would I want to hear about how Manny puked in the toilet and Eddie drew a penis on his face?”

“Well, thank you for sparing my feelings,” Owen said, his tone heavy with sarcasm. “A lot of good it did both of us.”

“Yes, you decided the way to solve our problems was to sleep around.”

“It didn't happen that way.”

“Then how
did
it happen?” All the anger and hurt and humiliation I felt upon discovering my husband in bed with another woman surfaced. Things in our marriage hadn't been terrible. They hadn't been good, either, in a long time, but I hadn't expected the affair. How had he met Jane? And when had the affair started? How could he do that to me, after all that I'd done, after how hard I'd worked? I felt suddenly too tired to fight anymore.

“Nicole.” Kailen's whisper cut through my thoughts. “Look inside the cup.”

I started, and turned my gaze from Owen's gray eyes. The coffee cup no longer steamed. I reached for it, my fingers trembling with anticipation and exhaustion. The paper was cool to the touch. The unmistakable rattle of ice cubes sounded as I picked it up. I set it in front of me and pried off the lid. Iced tea, not coffee. “How? Did you...?” I looked to Kailen, confused.

He gave me a quick smile. “No. This was all you. You’ll feel tired for a while. Magic isn’t much different from any other muscle—you need to practice if you want it to come easily.”

I tilted the cup, examining the contents. “But I don't remember concentrating.”

“I thought this might happen,” Kailen said. “You manifested with anger as your driving emotion—possibly mixed up with a couple other things. Now you've formed a block. Your magic won't work unless you experience those same emotions. I wouldn't normally encourage it, but we may not have a choice right now. We don’t have time. A block like this can take months of practice to push past.”

“What do you mean, we don't have time?”

Kailen took a deep breath. “Because I'm not strong enough to defeat the grushound. The only one who can do that is you.”

Just as he finished saying these words, someone in the coffee shop screamed.

CHAPTER NINE

I grabbed for Kailen's hand. “No. That can't be true. I can't fight the grushound. I sit at a desk all day.”

The scream sounded again. People had begun to pick up books and laptops, running for the wall behind the bar. Others stared out the tall windows, frozen. Kailen didn't look like he was joking. “It's coming. I'll hold it off as long as I can. They're highly resistant to magic. But a Changeling’s magic should be able to break through. You have a fighter's instinct, Nicole. Use it.”

He stood abruptly, his hand going to the tube at his belt. He scooped Jane out of his breast pocket and tucked her into the pocket of the jacket I wore, then snapped out the blade of his sword and started toward windows. The sounds of the steamers and the chatter of the baristas had disappeared, leaving only the shuffle of fleeing people and someone’s music still playing faintly from a pair of abandoned headphones.

Kailen stood alone. I rose to my feet, the iced tea still in my left hand.

“Nicole,” Owen said. He sounded confused, lost. But before he said anything more, the crunching, crashing sound of breaking glass filled Coava Coffee. The grushound leapt through the window, landing right in front of Kailen. It shook its head, stray shards of glass flying, hitting the floor with a tinkling sound. A low growl started in its throat as it stalked toward him, claws clicking against the concrete.

“Oh shit,” Owen said. “Oh shit, what is that?” He reached for the sleeve of the jacket I wore and grabbed it.

“Let go,” I hissed.

He didn't seem to hear me, his gaze fixed on Kailen and the beast. Kailen had both hands on the hilt of his sword, holding it in a guard position. The grushound pounced, claws and teeth flashing beneath the bright lighting of the cafe. Kailen moved to the side, deflecting the grushound's leap with his sword. The massive claws just barely missed his leg.

“Am I even seeing this?” Owen said.

His voice spurred me to action. “Let go of my sleeve, now.”

Owen's fingers opened automatically at the command. I pushed past him and headed toward the conflict. The patrons had vacated the coffee shop but left overturned chairs in their wake. I climbed over them and watched, helpless, as the grushound lunged for Kailen again. “What do I do?” I cried out.