The Steward (38 page)

My heart climbed into my throat again and the flaming raindrops flared a little brighter. I was overwhelmed by anguish and guilt. There was no denying it—I was responsible. That day on the beach, if I’d only been strong enough to tell him that I couldn’t keep my end of the bargain, none of this would have happened. With a single kiss I served up the evidence Chalen needed. Had he not seen me kiss Doug in virtually the same spot? As much as I wanted to make it right, or say something that might make it go away, I was powerless. I would trade my life for Gavin’s in a moment, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t return here—ever.

The Council was concerned that I used my abilities against the Fae—no Steward ever did so, but ultimately they acquitted me of the transgression because I’d only used it to defend myself. Had I attacked the Fae, I would have been forced to leave. Not that I would mind. At the moment, I wanted nothing more. If I left this place I might be able to find Gavin, wherever he was hiding.

For the time being, though, I was stuck here—now with guards. There were eight Fae stationed around the garden wall in equal intervals, protection for my family and me they said. The guards were the reason I left the cottage and came to the beach. They unnerved me—they didn’t move. Sherman said the Council would select a new
Treoraí, and if I wanted to, I could take the Water trial in October. At the moment, I couldn’t think that far
into
the future.

“A new Treoraí.”
I gagged on the words and the flaming raindrops flared brighter once again. As if my misery over Gavin wasn’t enough to bear, I tried very hard not to think about Chalen for fear of setting the woods on fire
.
I was
so
angry.

The Council decided, along with Zarkus and the Unseelie elders, that Chalen acted in
their
best interests. The Council warned Chalen that he’d be banished from the physical world if he ever compelled me again, or harmed any of my friends or family, but really, to an immortal, it was little more than a slap on the wrist. That was that—Fae justice
had
been served.

I screamed Gavin’s name at the lake edge until my voice gave out.

* * *

I
a
woke the next morning, my body languid
,
filled with sadness, fear, and a sense of oppresive isolation. He was gone, hiding to avoid death, though I took some solace in the fact that he was still alive
…
somewhere. Gavin’s absence compounded Sara’s. It would be weeks, perhaps, before she came back—her escape had been all over the local news. I wanted to see both of them more than ever. Before desperation took hold, or I set anything else on fire, I went downstairs.

Dad appeared to be in a much better mood at breakfast. He was happier than I’d seen him since
Aunt
May died. Before leaving for work, he seemed almost normal, talking about how bad last night’s
storm
was
.

While flicking a chunk of pineapple around in my bowl
,
trying to appear
as though I were actually
eating, I felt the happy, calming presence fill the kitchen. It was much stronger than before. I searched the room, but
couldn’t see or sense any
thing. Nonetheless, there was something
… comforting … with me
. It seemed more palpable this time—I
began
to doubt it was something I
manifested
. Whatever it was, I welcomed it. I was determined to stay as long as it did, so I sat in
front of the large glass window of the keeping room for an hour.

By noon, the sun
came
out and the clouds were gone, but the sadness crept back in. I couldn’t take my mind off Gavin, or what must have been going through his mind when the Council tried to kill him after
Chalen convinced them with his lies
.
Gavin
must have been enraged—I was. I wanted to do bad things to Chalen, and fought to keep the ugliness out of my head. I didn’t like thinking those things, even about him, so I calmed myself and looked out the kitchen window toward the lake.

Mitch, Justin Fontaine
,
and two other boys
floated just
off the point on the big inflatable that we
pulled
behind the boat. It made me smile to watch them paddling around in the lake without a care—I’d give anything to change places. I stood there for a few minutes until they paddled out of view behind a large tree that stood just beyond the garden wall.

With my head nearly on the counter, I bent over to see them again
,
and adrenalin surged through my body. They
had paddled
to
ward
the first island, and they were already halfway there. In a dead sprint I ran to the cupboard where we kept all the keys and ran as hard as I could down the path to the dock. Jumping down the stairs when I got close, I focused on the ropes holding the Capri in place—they were loose before I slid into the seat.

By the time I cleared the point, the boys covered another quarter of the distance. My heart raced as I scanned the shoreline. I felt Fae on the island, but so far, they
paid
no attention to the boys. Reaching out with my mind, I pushed the inflatable gently backwards, against their furious strokes, until I closed the distance.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Mitchell?” My voice was too harsh.

The smile left his face. All four of them looked guilty.

“Well?” I
demanded
.

“We were just going to float
around
the island, sis.”

He flashed his best smile, his green eyes glowing in the sunlight.

“Don’t even try
it
—the smile won’t work on me, Mitch. I’m immune. Now hand me the tow rope.”

He clutched it to his chest until I raised my eyebrows and forced my hand a few inches closer. Against the protests of the other boys, he handed it to me.

“All of you realize, I hope, that your parents would be furious if they knew you were floating in the middle of the lake without life jackets.”

Four sets of eyes looked down.

“I didn’t want to, Mags, but they wanted to see the island. You won’t tell Mom, will you? Please?” Mitch flashed his smile again.

I tried hard not to smile.

“Mitch, you know the island is off limits. You promised Aunt May
.
”

“She’s not here now,” he retorted matter-of-factly.

“No, but I am, and it’s my island now. Same rules apply.”

Mitch looked dejected
,
and despite their protests, they
all
eventually agreed to put on lifevests
—
but only after I promised to take them tubing.
Quid pro quo—they learn so early
.

“But why can’t we go to the islands?” The little brown-haired boy asked.

“I’m Maggie, Mitch’s sister,” I said ignoring the question.

“I’m Mike Anderson
.
I live on the lake, and I don’t need a lifejacket.”

“What’s your mom’s phone number? I’ll just ask her.”

His face went white.

“To answer your question,
Michael
, the islands are off limits because the caretaker doesn’t like children. He’s always there, watching.”

Mitch’s smile disappeared as I know he ran our meeting with Chalen through his head.

“Is that him?” Scotty asked, pointing as he finished fastening his lifevest.

Turning
my head slowly, I saw him, the wretched older version,
a pale gargoyle,
on the shore a hundred yards away. Ignoring my homicidal anger, I turned back to the boys. “Yes!” I said through clinched teeth.

With frightened eyes, Mitch’s forehead wrinkled and his frown grew.

“Maggie, can we please go? I don’t like him.”

“Do I have your promise? Or should I let
Chalen
deal with you?”

They stared at the alabaster demon on the island and agreed.

I tied the inflatable to the back of the boat
,
and lifted
the boys
inside before speeding away as fast as the Capri would carry us. Well, he was useful for something, I thought as the islands passed out of view at the bend. Chalen was the perfect boogey man.

As I thought about him, I realized something
—h
e was the first person, or whatever he was, that I
’d
ever truly
hated
. I
’d
disliked some people, even dispised a few, Rhonda for instance, but I’d never felt as much animosity for anything as I felt for him. I cleared my mind and focused on the boys instead.

Then I remembered what Sara had said the last time we talked. What was the name she told me to remember? In a moment it came to me: Billy Macy at Turpentine Creek.

TWENTY
-
FIVE

TIGERS AND MEN

Mitch’s friends spent the night, which left Justice in a child-induced high. As much as the big dog loved me, he loved kids more and the feeling was mutual. I caught each of the boys sharing bacon with him under the table at breakfast. It made me feel better watching Mitch with his friends—they helped me forget how lonely I felt, how much I hurt inside. Mitch was oblivious to everything that went on—like he always was. Enjoying his own little world, I wished, jealously, that I could join him. My reverie came to an end quickly, as Michael’s mom came by boat at nine o’clock in the morning to whisk all four away for the evening.

I could find Billy, since I wouldn’t need to keep watch over the boys today—I still worried that they’d try to sneak onto the island. If I left this morning, I’d have a window before my plans this afternoon. I was supposed to meet Doug, Candace and Ronnie
,
along with a few other friends, at Rachel’s house. I planned to break the news to them that Gavin had moved back to France—that was the story. Four hours to find Billy. I could do it.

Turpentine Creek
turned out to be a big cat preserve—not at all what I expected—but it would be easy to find, located just a few miles south of Eureka Springs. I didn’t know why I was supposed to look for a Fae at a wildlife refuge, but Sara told me so for a reason. Likewise, I didn’t know what I was supposed to ask Billy, but I’d figure that out when the time came.

I cringed a little when I drove past where the Maserati was parked two evenings ago. The sense of isolation crept back in, briefly, before I forced it out. I found a random song on my iPod—a good diversion. When the music wasn’t enough, I focused on how beautiful the lake looked from the highway above. Anything to keep my mind busy.

Fifteen minutes later I pulled up to the small barn-like structure that served as the main building at
Turpentine Creek
. In the storefront, I greeted a blond woman who appeared to be only a few years older than me. She wore a greenish-khaki shirt with the refuge’s logo above the pocket.

“Hi, is there someone named Billy Macy here?”

“Yes, I think he’s in the main compound, just through the doors. He was with Vada, our black Leopard, when I was back there a few minutes ago.”

It smelled like a zoo when I opened the door, the scent of the big cats hanging in the hot summer air. There were rows of shaded, wire mesh enclosures, and big cats everywhere. Their roars sounded in my chest as much as my ears—they were much louder than I’d expected. People milled about the concrete walkways just feet from the animals. Some of the cats lay on their sides completely oblivious of the people staring at them, snapping pictures. Other cats paced back and forth in their enclosures, staring at the people on the other side of the barrier, but I didn’t see a black Leopard. I did, however, sense a Fae.

I walked down the first row and looked to my right. In a wide, grassy enclosure, a large black cat lay stretched across a limb, lazily swinging its tail in wide circles, and just outside the fence stood Billy. I knew because I sensed his Fae energy. His back was to me as he sprayed down a concrete pad with a hose. He glanced over and smiled briefly when he heard me approach.

Billy wasn’t very tall, about five-foot-ten, but he was as beautiful as all Fae—except Chalen. His hair was medium length, sandy blond and slightly lighter than his neatly trimmed Goatee. Billy was stocky but muscular—his calves were cut like a runner’s. His chest and shoulders looked thick, and his forearms rippled with chords of muscle. The golden hair on the exposed parts of his arms and legs glistened in the sunlight.

He looked back at the cat and went on with his business. I walked up to the enclosure to get closer to him before introducing myself—the cat remained completely aloof to my presence as I moved next to Billy.

“She looks sad,” I said.

“
He
has his days,” Billy said.

“He’s beautiful.”

“Yes, he is.”

“He’s so regal, almost like he wants to ignore that we’re even here,” I said, glancing back at Billy.

“It’s a marked improvement. Vada used to despise people, but that’s hardly his fault. He was rescued from a man who broke his canine teeth off with pliers when the …
gentleman …
thought Vada had grown big enough to be dangerous.”

A chill ran down my spine. It only got worse when he told me that Vada had been in a great deal of pain when they rescued him. The man hadn’t removed Vada’s teeth—he just broke them off, exposing the nerves. A team had repaired the damage so Vada was no longer in pain, but for years he associated humans with agony.