Reflection Pond (12 page)

Rowan chuckled. “It’s chemistry. We’re creatures of nature, close to the earth, all living things. It would feel inherently wrong, not that it would specifically matter.” He leaned close to her, enjoying the way her eyes widened. “Trust me—we’re not related.
Nothing to worry about.”

She snorted—actually
snorted
—and walked away from him. “Believe me, I’m not concerned about being related to you.”

She went to the pillows stacked in the corner, touching random surfaces as she went—the shelves, the book that lay open on the table, a cluster of dangling orbs. He wanted to go behind her, feel each item from inside her skin.

She sat, studied him, her blue eyes shuttered. Rowan wished he’d been gifted with the ability to mind read.

“Why are you being so nice, anyway?”

Rowan sat across from her, stretching out his legs. “I don’t know.”

“I never said thank you—for when the prophetess died.
Thanks for taking care of me and for…for not blaming me.”

Rowan said nothing.

“What will happen to her? Do you…bury them? Is there a cemetery?”

“We burn our dead,” he said. “They’ll be a ceremony soon.”

Callie nodded and the silence became awkward. “So…what’s with this imprint business?”

“I already explained this to you, but maybe you were too hopped up on faerie wine to remember.” She opened her mouth but Rowan held up his hand. “It’s fine.” Callie sat back and waited for him to continue. “An imprint shows your rank amongst the fae. Your amulet, which the Elders will explain to you, gives you this rank.
When you’re born, the prophet, or in our case, prophetess, divines your future. The amulet is spelled and hidden in the city. Finding it is kind of like your initiation. Choosing to put it on means you accept
Eirensae
as your home. It binds you and your magic to the city.” His words became quieter. “You can’t become a full member until you have it.” A fact that Rowan knew all too well.

“How do I know where to look?”

“You don’t—that’s the thing. You’re given no information about it at all. No clues. From what I understand, it’s a gut feeling, some magical connection that leads you to the correct path.”

“Sounds like a load of bull to me,” Callie said.

“Yeah. And you only get two years.”

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

Rowan answered her real question. “I have a little over two months to find my amulet. Sixty-seven days, if you care.” He tried to sound blasé, but wasn’t sure he pulled it off. He knew he would leave. He just didn’t want anyone to know how much it bothered him. He could survive anywhere, inside a fae city or outside in the human world. All he had to do was scrape out an existence. Besides, if he were banished, he’d lose his longevity, so at least it’d be a
short
existence.

“Doesn’t anyone help?” Callie asked, finally looking up.

What he saw in her eyes was more than curiosity, it was compassion,
pity.

“Have you even started searching for yours yet?
Better hurry. And don’t expect help—you won’t get it.” He forced his expression to remain blank. “I’ve searched every inch of
Eirensae,
my amulet isn’t here. The Elders don’t believe me.” Hazel had been the most adamant that he “keep searching,” but offered no explanation why it was so easy for every other fae.
Days,
usually, not weeks or months, certainly not years. To them the two-year search time was laughable. Who needed that much time when the amulet’s placement was so obvious?

Either he didn’t belong here, or the prophetess foresaw he’d bring destruction to the city. Neither option sat well with Rowan. If he didn’t belong here, that meant he
did
belong to another city. As for the second possibility, he failed to see how one fae could ruin a city, especially one without offensive power. What was he going to do? Heal them to death?

“And if you don’t find it?” Callie was really paying attention now. Rowan could see the shiny flecks in her irises, smell the dampness in her hair as it tumbled onto her shoulders, just inches from his fingertips.

He swallowed, tearing his gaze from Callie. “Meet the newest member of the Fallen.”

“Those are the people who used to be faeries, right? Hazel explained it some,” Callie said. “I don’t really get it.”

Rowan searched for a way to explain it that she’d understand. “What’s the one thing you want more than anything in the world?” he asked.

Callie hesitated.

“It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“Family,” she said.

A sharp ache lanced through Rowan’s chest. He ignored it. “So imagined you had a family. Parents, siblings, the perfect suburban life wrapped up and tied with a bow. Then, all of a sudden, you’re not worthy of that family anymore, so they kick you to the street, refuse to speak to you, refuse to acknowledge you exist.
That’s
what it’s like to become Fallen.”

Callie looked uncertain. “Hazel made them sound evil.”

“I don’t know. I guess it all depends how far you’re willing to go to have everything you’ve ever wanted.” He pushed to his feet and held out a hand to help Callie up. “You’ve got to get back. Sapphire will worry.”

CHAPTER SIX

Callie woke the following morning to an empty cottage. In the past five days, she’d grown used to Sapphire, head bent over the vegetables in her garden, humming the morning away. The silence reminded her too much of being alone. Callie dressed quickly and headed outside.

Dark clouds stretched across the sky, lumbering against the horizon as if they were just waiting to strike. At least it’d stopped raining. The day before still worried at the back of Callie’s mind. She’d really hurt Rowan with her powers. She had to learn how to control them, and fast, especially if they were to continue growing. If she ever did get to go home, she’d hate to see what kind of havoc she’d cause a human who didn’t have the ability to heal.

The path to the city seemed strangely empty.

She’d expected Ash to be at her door demanding she practice, but Callie was grateful for the solitude and time to collect her thoughts. She sat on the porch, letting the sounds of
Eirensae
wash over her. Birds whistled in the trees that surrounded the city. The stream gurgled cheerfully. She inhaled, smelling the morning and the faint, acrid scent of lightning from the night before.

If she was still enough, quiet enough, she swore she could hear the grass growing, and more faintly, the soft sound of petals unfolding into blooms.

Then, footsteps.

Callie’s eyes
flew open.

Elm stood before her, furious. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

Rage rose within her, battling for dominance over her fear. She could still feel his fingers around her throat. “You’re lucky to be here,” she countered, pushing to her feet.

Elm ran a hand through his hair. When it dropped to his side, it curled into a fist. “You think I’m afraid of you?
A child? I fought in the original battle, back before the fae split into cities. You’re nothing more than a minor disturbance. Easily squashed.”

Callie tasted metal on the back of her tongue. “I don’t know why you hate me. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Perhaps not,” he said, moving closer. The muscles in his arms bunched. Callie pressed herself against Sapphire’s door. “I know Hazel is planning something. I know you’re working with her. Maybe I can’t challenge her, but I can certainly take you out.”

A few cottages away, a door opened.

“I’m not working with anyone,” Callie argued. She felt power tingling beneath her fingertips, skimming along her scalp. “You better get away from me,” she gasped. She bit her lip, fighting the sensation.

“Hey, Callie,” Ash was there, his feet squeaking against the wet grass. He glanced at Elm. “Hey.”

Elm ignored Ash.

“Back up, Ash.
I don’t want to hurt you,” Callie said, voice desperate. Her skin vibrated, a numb, incessant feeling.

Elm pressed his face close to hers. He smelled rancid, as though hate spewed from every pore. “I want you gone.”

Ash’s fist came out of nowhere. The sound of bones on bone crackled through the air. Elm’s head snapped backward.

“You leave her alone,” Ash said, fist ready to strike again. Elm was nearly a full head taller than Ash, but Ash had his chest right against the bigger
man’s.

“Ash,” Callie said, horrified, certain that Elm was going to crush him.

Elm took a deep breath.

“Go on,” Callie said. “Go away.”

“Yeah,” Ash said, shoving Elm’s chest. “I heard what she did to you last time. You want her to finish the job?”

Elm turned his angry gaze on Callie. Veins in his forehead pulsed. Callie fought the shiver that inched up her spine. “I’m a patient man, Calla Lily. Remember that.”

As Elm retreated, Callie sagged against the door. Ash cradled his hand. “Shit,” he whispered, turning to Callie. “That hurt.” He reached behind her and opened the door, shuffling her inside.

Callie went to the pitcher on the counter and poured herself a glass of water, drinking it slowly.

“What is his problem?” Ash exploded. He waved his arms. Winced. “Just wait until I tell Hazel about this.”

Callie shook her head. “No. You can’t. I’ve already caused enough trouble. I really just want to fly under the radar, you know?” She’d had her fill of attention.

Ash lifted an eyebrow. “Radar, yeah. I understand.”

Callie smiled. “Let me see your hand.”

He had two split knuckles and a bright red mark spreading across the back of his hand. She wet a towel with the cool water in the pitcher and held it over the wound. “You shouldn’t have hit him. Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But this is nice.” He held up their joined hands, covering the back of Callie’s hand with his palm.

Uneasiness wormed into her gut. “Ash—”

He
smiled, green eyes luminous. “Yeah?”

Callie sighed, fighting the urge to pull her hands away. She remembered the other day, when they’d held the blooming flower. The petals falling around them like a perfect, magical moment. She extracted herself from his grasp. “Where is everyone, anyway?”

His grin widened. “It’s initiation day. How can you not know?” He tossed the bloodied towel onto the counter. “We’re naming a new prophetess. Sapphire is going to be great.”

Callie’s throat closed.
“Sapphire?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Guess not,” Callie said. She pushed away from the counter. “Maybe she just forgot, with everything else going on.” Through the window, she saw Rowan stalking up the path to the city. Did he always look so high-strung? Maybe having your brain exploded did that to you. She turned back to Ash. “You can teach me how to control my power, right? I don’t want to hurt people.”

Ash nodded. “You’ll have it in no time. I mean, I hardly ever set accidental fires anymore.”

Ash caught Callie’s horrified expression. “Hey,” he said, touching her shoulder, “you’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about. You’re exactly perfect.”

“Um,” she said.

He cradled her cheek. Callie recognized this look. It was the one he’d had when he almost kissed her in the caves. She ducked away. “I can’t do this, Ash.”

“Do what?”

“Whatever it is you think is happening.” She opened the cottage door. “I’ll see you at the initiation, then?” she said, hoping she hadn’t thoroughly smashed his heart.

“Okay,” he said, moving toward the door.

Callie breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone.

She had to find some way to control her anger. And it’d be
really nice if Ash got a clue. She wasn’t interested in a relationship.

***

Rowan strode through Ash’s door, not bothering to knock. The sunset shone through the windows, turning everything burnt orange. Ash sat on the couch, hands folded in his lap, eyes far away.

Rowan slammed the door, making the other boy jump. “Are you meditating?”

Ash’s neck reddened. “No.”

“Then get up and get dressed or we’ll be late for the initiation. I figured you’d be with Callie…” Rowan left the question unsaid though his insides churned with worry.

“I was this morning. I haven’t seen her since.” Ash stood and stretched, flexed his fingers.

Rowan crossed to Ash, inspecting his knuckles. They
were bruised and split. “I’d avoid you too, if you hit me.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hit
her.
I hit Elm. The asshole.”

Rowan grunted in agreement and went to the kitchen, pillaging for something to eat while Ash changed. Rowan was already dressed for the evening, in a dark blue tunic and loose pants. To the fae, it would just be another celebration, another night to drink and party and ignore responsibility.