Secret Worlds (127 page)

Don’t go there
.

A phone rang and the “Sweet Home Alabama” ringtone started. Her phone. In the eerie, orangey moonlight that lent an authentic Halloween aura, Skye tried to locate it by sound and sight.

There – only a few yards away. She searched frantically for an object to extend her reach and draw it to her. But there was nothing.

A beep sounded.

“Skye, it’s Callie. I have the most awful feeling that you’re in some kind of trouble. Please call me right away. And if for some reason you can’t –” A slight pause. “If you can hear me, and I sense you do, remember you have the power to overcome whatever the Fae throw at you.” More silence. “Call me as soon as you can.”

The line went dead.

“No, don’t hang up! Callie? Don’t leave me!”

But of course, Callie couldn’t hear her. Nobody could. Her spirit exploded in a hundred fragments, as if it was a real thing, a delicate piece of china thrown against a concrete wall. Skye lowered to the ground, throat burning from her terrified whimpering. The noise filled the basement’s oppressive, tomb-like silence. The chill of damp cement combined with the basement’s musty, moldy smell created a dismal effect. It was like being trapped in a coffin.

You have the power.
Okay, she had done it once before tonight, had managed to stave off Claribel’s attack, if only for a few minutes. For all she knew, those few minutes may have saved her life, or from suffering more permanent injuries. That psycho fairy had years of pent-up vengeance to unload on Skye before the Queen interrupted.

Her own shallow breathing was unnaturally loud. She touched the iron medallion on her chest and brought Kheelan’s face to her mind’s eye—the sharp planes of his cheeks, the full lips that rarely smiled in simple pleasure but were instead firmly clamped with determination.

She could be just as focused and determined. Too much was at stake to fail. Her breathing slowed to a normal rate as she concentrated on Kheelan’s face. This was the true value of the medallion. It offered little physical protection from the fae, but something more important. The promise of love, a happily-ever-after mortal tale of courage and strength.

As Rowena and Lawren’s daughter she had fused within her DNA and psyche the skill of witchcraft and a wee bit of fairy magic. She turned her back to the window where the glowing Dark Fae eyes watched. Skye rubbed her palms together, activating their chakra centers to raise energy. She visualized a widening gap in the space between her wrists and shackles. The concentration was exhausting and trickles of sweat formed between her breasts and at the back of her neck. The air stirred around the cuffs as she manipulated the energy between them.

It could have been five minutes or it could have been an hour, but she knew when it was time. Skye stared at the cuffs and hopefully jiggled her right wrist. The space between skin and metal was noticeably wider, perhaps a precious inch. Careful not to accidentally tighten the restraints, she contorted her hand to slip through the metal prison.

Success. Skye grinned at her free hand and rapidly slipped the other out of the second handcuff. First obstacle overcome.

Skye studied the chain attached to her leg shackles and then looped over a concrete column, bound with a lock. She would have to pick that lock. She ran a hand through her tousled hair, hoping for a barrette or bobby pin in the tangled mess.

There wasn’t.

But there had to be something she could use to break loose. Something small and metal . . . the glint of her belt buckle shone in the moonlight, like a lucky talisman. Perfect. Methodically, she worked the metal prong in its center, back and forth, until it broke off. Skye inserted it into the padlock and twisted it around inside until it clicked and gave way. Mindful of a possible audience at the window, she gently lowered the chain to the floor, making as little noise as possible. At least she was untethered from the column and her hands were free.

No alarms or screeching erupted from the rear window. Skye hunkered in the dark shadows, hoping those glowing eyes outside the basement window weren’t nocturnal like a cat’s. She took the broken-off piece of metal and inserted it into one of the leg irons.

It wouldn’t give.

Damn it. She bit her lip from crying out and drawing attention. Tears leaked from her eyes – part anger and part despair. She’d been so damn close to breaking free.

There must be
something
she could do. Skye ran through a dozen hopeless scenarios until she hit upon one that held a smidgeon of possibility. She would have to move fast. The guarding fairies would discover she was partly unfettered once she made her move. Step-by-step she plotted her course. Satisfied, she touched Kheelan’s medallion for courage.

Do it
now
.

Skye leapt to her feet, still shackled together, and hobbled over as quickly as possible to the back wall. A loud cry arose, like the screeching of a league of demons. She had tried to mentally prepare for the inevitable uproar but the wild, inhumane wailing paralyzed her a moment.

Move. There’s no going back
. Whatever happened was better than being chained like a convict awaiting the electric chair. Skye shuffled to the far, left wall, switched on the light, and hurried to the storage area with its rows of metal shelves. There was a box of large, thick altar cloths on the bottom shelf of the third row. Her organized nature and memory for details had come in handy. She located the box, and grabbed a fistful of the material.

Would her wings still work? Claribel had singed them and her legs were heavy and immobilized from the heavy chain and shackles. Skye gave a little test jump. It was difficult, but she could get airborne enough for the next step of her escape plan.

She flew to the back wall, straight to the window and the face of her enemies. Even knowing they wouldn’t try to come through the iron bars, Skye’s hands trembled as she tucked the altar cloths into the small space between the top bar and the edge of the cinderblock frame.

There. The makeshift curtain blocked them from seeing her next move. Skye flew down, scooped the dropped phone and flashlight off the floor, and then flew straight to the ceiling. Her back muscles strained with the effort it took to tote the heavy chain dangling from her feet. Grabbing an exposed wooden beam, she pulled herself up and searched for a way to move from the basement to the storefront.

She didn’t like what she found.

Kheelan drove ninety miles an hour until he passed the Tuscaloosa City Limits sign. He slowed to within ten miles an hour of the speed limit. No time for cops. He flipped open the cell phone to check for a signal just as it rang.

“Kheelan?”

Relief loosened the tightness in his ribs. He didn’t even notice the hard knot lodged in his chest until he heard Skye’s voice and it untwisted. “Where are you? I’m on my way.”

“You’re not going to believe this –”

The knot fisted in his chest again.

“I’m in the basement of The Green Fairy. You don’t happen to have any leg shackle keys, do you?”

He listened, white-knuckled, as Skye gave him what he was sure was an abbreviated version of her night’s ordeal.

“— so the only way I see out of here is a tiny crawlspace where the heating vent is housed. And I really,
really
don’t want to go in there.”

“After being stung by a fairy taser, threatened with death and shackled in a dark room, you’re afraid to go through a crawlspace?”

“There might be mice in it.”

Kheelan grinned in spite of the circumstances. “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic. I’m about ten minutes away and I’ve still got the extra set of keys to the store you gave me. I’ll come get you out of the basement.”

“But the Unseelies will be guarding the door out front and they’re keeping watch at the basement window too.”

“I’ll find a way. We’re going to have to walk through that front door no matter what.” She had been through enough tonight, he had to make this work.

“No.” Skye sounded stronger now, more decisive. “I know where Claribel keeps all her keys. I’ll get in her office and see if she has any to get these chains off my ankles.”

“That’s doubtful. But even if she does, we’re still going to have to make a run out that door. I can carry you to the truck and once we’re out of their sight, I’ll figure out some way to get the shackles off you.”

“Actually . . . you’re wrong,” Skye said slowly. “I keep thinking like a grounded human. I have a better plan. Just – keep talking to me. I’m going through the crawlspace.”

Skye ignored the icky feeling of spider webs coating her face and hair. Harder to block out was the sound of scampering mice. One scurried across her foot and she almost choked on a swallowed scream. Mercifully, it didn’t take long before she poked her head out of the small opening. She turned off the flashlight, whispered her plan to Kheelan, and then pocketed the cell phone in her jeans.

The store was dimly lit and quiet. A quick glance at the windows showed nothing but darkness, no glowing goblin eyes. Hard to believe they weren’t out there though. Best to proceed as if they were.

Skye flew down and kept low to the ground, making a dash to Claribel’s office. Inside, she shut the door and used her flashlight to rummage through the top desk drawer. Out of the dozens of keys, she fished out a couple of promising smaller ones.

At last, luck was with her. The second key fit and she shed the chains and turned off the flashlight. There was one more window at the store, a small one on the side of the building by the kitchen where Mama D washed dishes. Skye opened it as quietly as possible, her heart hammering. At the last second, she grabbed Mama D’s black knit hat from a nearby coat tree and stuffed her mass of red curls inside. She also threw on a long-sleeved flannel shirt Kyle had left behind.

She didn’t hear Kheelan’s truck but if he wasn’t already here, he would be soon. She climbed out the window, flew to the top of the roof and flattened herself on the shingles. Skye buried her face in her hands, expecting to hear a great
swoosh
as a thousand Unseelies swooped her away.

Silence. Skye removed her hands and peeked around. The glowing eyes were still by the basement windows, but none looked up at the roof. Across the street, more of the creatures crowded in a tree, but their eyes stayed focused on the shop’s front window and door. Thankfully, no cars or people were nearby. Skye punched in Kheelan’s number and lifted the cell phone to her mouth.

“You there?” she whispered.

“I’m on MacFarland, about to turn onto 15th Street.”

“The store’s surrounded. You know where the Bama Rammer Deli is on 15th?”

“Yeah, but –”

“I’ll meet you there.” She cut him off before he could raise any more objections.
Here goes nothing
. Skye pushed off the roof and flew. A gust of wind blew off the black hat as she flew over rooftops.
That didn’t help
. Her stream of red hair would be a flaming beacon to the Dark Fae.

Kheelan stared, amazed, when Skye flew into view. He had seen his share of fairies, but none quite like her. He was torn between amusement, fear for her safety, and relief she’d shown up.

She landed abruptly, legs stumbling at the newness. Kheelan’s amusement faded with the rumbling of phoukas in the distance. He started the truck and blinked his headlights to signal his whereabouts. Leaning over, he pulled open the passenger side door. “Hurry, trouble’s coming.”

Skye climbed in and he hit the accelerator before she even closed the door.

“I heard them too, they’re getting closer. They’ve caught on that I escaped.”

Her face was solemn and pale. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her close for a long, long time. Kheelan pulled her roughly to his side and gave her a quick, fervent kiss on the cheek. That would have to do for now. “We can outrun them,” he assured Skye, although he wasn’t positive that was true. He navigated through the near-abandoned downtown area as fast as he could without drawing attention.

Her eyes flittered nervously between the front and side windows. “Maybe they don’t know we’re in this truck.”

He said nothing.

“Where are we going? I don’t think my apartment is a good idea and I’m sure neither of us wants to hang out with your Guardian.”

Kheelan looked at the dashboard clock. Three a.m.

Skye clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She dug out her cell phone and punched a number. “Callie,” she mouthed at him. She frowned at the phone. “She was so anxious for me to call and now she’s not picking up.”

“It
is
three in the morning,” he said after she left a message.

Skye laid the phone on the console. “Where did you say we were going?”

“I didn’t.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Truth is, I don’t know. But if we don’t hear from –”

A large thump landed on top of the truck.

Kheelan looked up. “What the –”

“For the love of the goddess.” Skye grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his biceps.

Cops were the least of his worries. Kheelan accelerated and fishtailed the truck back and forth across the road, hoping to shake off whatever had caught up to them. Something large and gray rolled over the hood of the truck, its impact shattering the front windshield. Even with the safety glass, some shards exploded inward, cutting their faces.

Kheelan shoved Skye to the floorboard. “Stay down.”

The thing, whatever it was, continued rolling and fell off on the passenger side of the truck. He swerved to avoid hitting it. Kheelan slowed to get a quick look; it appeared more animal than human, with a grayish-green body the size of a wild boar, and a horn protruding from its forehead. The thing wobbled up on two legs and stared back at him. Despite the maroon color of its eyes, they betrayed an intelligence and predatory gleam that was definitely not that of an animal. It was bad Fae all right. Kheelan sped off, relieved to see the thing wasn’t traveling in some kind of herd.

He wiped his face, sending pinpricks of pain as bits of glass scraped deeper in his cheeks and forehead. At least his eyes were spared and he could keep driving. “You okay?” he asked anxiously, seeing blood on Skye’s face.