The Faerie Prince (Creepy Hollow, #2)

The Faerie Prince

By Rachel Morgan

Copyright © 2013 Rachel Morgan

Cover Design by Morgan Media

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information please visit
www.rachel-morgan.com

Kindle Edition Licence Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Kindle Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9921863-4-0

Smashwords Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9921863-5-7

Print ISBN: 978-0-9921863-3-3

For Kyle.

You are my sunshine.

PART

I

Every night I watch the same window on Draven Avenue. I keep my distance, and I never watch from the same place or at exactly the same time. Creepy, I know, but I have my reasons. I watch that window because I want to be the first one to know if he comes home. I want to see what kind of person he’s become since he broke my heart. I want to sense for myself the power he has, and I want to see him use it. And, yes, I want to see
him
.

Nate.

Mr. Draven Avenue.

It’s not as though I want him back. I mean, the guy handed me over to a prince of the Unseelie Court—I’m not exactly hoping for a happily ever after here. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what I’m hoping for. Maybe I want to look into his eyes and ask him why he did it. Or maybe I just want to kick his ass.

I lean back on the porch swing, relaxing into the swaying motion. The people who live in this house have gone to bed, so there’s no one awake to wonder why a swing might move on its own. Across the road and to the right I can see Nate’s window. Always in darkness.

A twig snaps somewhere to my left, and I bring the swing to a quick standstill, my heart thumping a little faster than normal. It’s nothing more sinister than a cat, though, inching carefully across the grass in its attempt to stalk something. I want to laugh at myself for being so paranoid, but I know I have a good reason for being on edge: Zell might still be after me.

I raise my hand and cover a yawn. I had an assignment earlier this evening, and tomorrow’s a normal day of training at the Guild, so I should probably put my obsessiveness aside for the night and get home to bed. I reach for my stylus—and freeze.

I see a light. In Nate’s room. Hovering, dancing, fading in and out. In a second I’m on my feet—but the light is gone. I bite my lip. What should I do? I haven’t been inside his room since the night he betrayed me. It would be a stupid move given the strong possibility that Zell is magically monitoring Nate’s home in case I show up there. On the other hand, Flint did put protective spells around the house, so shouldn’t I be safe inside it? But I don’t know what kind of spells he used, and who or what they were meant to keep out.

The light flickers again before vanishing once more. I slide my stylus out of my boot and open a doorway to the faerie paths. Home, or Nate’s bedroom? I roll my eyes as I step into the darkness. Right, like there was ever a chance I’d just ignore that light.

My stomach does strange things when I step out of the doorway on Nate’s wall and into his moonlit bedroom. I remember being here with him so clearly. The large bed, the couches around the television, schoolwork piled on his desk—everything looks the same. That ache in my chest that I thought had disappeared is back again. As much as I want to kick Nate’s ass, a part of me just wants to feel his embrace and hear his easy laughter.

Pathetic, I know.

As I pad across Nate’s carpeted floor, my eyes peeled for the dancing light, I get a crazy sense of déjà vu. This is kind of like the night I met him. I was waiting here in the semi-darkness for the reptiscilla while a boy I didn’t know slept at his desk, oblivious to the fact that his whole world was about to change.

I pull one of his cupboards open, but there’s no light hiding in there. A backpack slides forward and I push it back inside, pausing to look at the initials sewn into the fabric. N. A. C. Nathaniel . . . something, something. It strikes me then just how little I know about Nate. I don’t even know his last name.

Plink.

My head swings toward the sound at the window, my hands up and in position to use my bow and arrow. It’s the hazy ball of light again, hovering just outside the window, bumping the glass before flitting away.

Plink, plink.

I stride over and pull the window up. The light bounces amongst the roses in the garden below. I step up onto the windowsill and jump down, bending my knees to absorb the impact as my feet hit the grass. I straighten—and hear movement behind me. Without hesitation I draw my leg up and kick backward. My foot connects with something soft.

“Oof!”

I spin around to see who it is, but something hits my ankle and trips me up. I roll as I hit the ground, trying to get away from whoever ambushed me. I jump to my feet, then duck as a swarm of bees zoom toward my face. I divert them with a gust of wind and send flames licking across the grass toward my attacker. He’s a faerie: shorter than average; green and blonde hair; smart clothes. He jumps over the flames and crashes into me. I stagger back against a bush as he wraps his hands around my neck. I jerk my knee up and hit him where I know it’ll hurt most. As he doubles over in pain, clutching his groin, I spin him around and hold one of my glittering guardian knives against his neck.

“Who are you and what do you want?” I demand.

“You’re practically a fully trained guardian and you fell for the will-o’-the-wisp trick?” Despite the pain he’s clearly in, he manages to laugh. “Disappointing.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one with a knife to your neck,” I say. “That’s the only thing you should be
disappointed
about right now.”

He grabs my arms at his neck, but a flame forms along the blade of my knife, searing his skin. He gasps in pain.

“Tell me,” I say through gritted teeth. “Are you working for Zell? Did he send you here to get me?”

“He wants you,” the faerie says. “I’ve been waiting here every night for you, Violet.”

“Well, you’re not very observant,” I tell him, “because I’ve been here every night too. Tell Zell to send someone with actual skills next time if he really wants me.” And with that I kick the faerie away from me, adding enough magical force to send him sprawling into the bushes at the other end of the garden. I hurriedly scribble a doorway into the grass at my feet. Green sparks flash toward me, but I drop down into the black hole of the faerie paths just in time to avoid them.

The darkness is complete. It’s as if I’m standing on nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. I relax and imagine my home. After a moment, the darkness peels away and a doorway of light forms in front of me. I step into my kitchen to find Filigree—in his new favorite form, the miniature pig—standing on the table pushing nixles around with his snout. He appears to be organizing the tiny roasted bugs into piles according to color. I guess he didn’t like it when I bought the ‘assorted’ bag last time I went shopping.

After patting Filigree’s pink head, I walk upstairs. I change out of my assignment clothes, but keep my trainee pendant around my neck. After my narrow escape from Zell’s dungeon, I did some research into the protective charms embedded in these pendants. Turns out one of the charms protects against the magical summoning of whoever wears the pendant. I never take it off anymore.

I sit on the edge of my bed and absently comb my hand through the black and purple tangles of my hair. Before I can go to sleep there’s one last thing I have to do. I close my eyes and extend my mind. My thoughts spread out like fingers, brushing past thousands of other minds in my search for just one. I should be able to find him easily, even without holding an object that belonged to him.

But there’s nothing. Just like I couldn’t sense Calla when she was trapped in Zell’s magically secured dungeon, I can’t sense Nate anymore. He doesn’t want to be found.

*

I wake the next morning with a feeling of unease curling in my stomach. I roll onto my back and stare at the enchanted skylight, watching yellow sunbeams filter through the topmost branches of the tree that conceals my home. It’s Friday. Just a regular Friday. Nothing important scheduled. So why do I feel like I’m forgetting something? Why do I feel like . . .