“I work in the U.S., mostly. There’s a portal there.”

“Where? In D.C.?” The idea of it made me feel violated.

“No, no. It’s in Vermont on the border with Canada.”

“Oh. Well, at least it’s not too close. So, what does Mom do?”

“She’s an information gatherer. She informs us when strange reports are made. We check out anything that sounds like it could be Fae related. There are dozens of us in U.S. offices, including Mom and I.”

I twisted blades of grass between my fingers, trying to process it.

“Do you work for the CIA, then?”

“Nope. Army. It’s a paranormal division nobody’s ever heard of. Except, of course, those in the military elite. And us.” He grinned. “Scared yet?”

“A little,” I admitted. “Does your voodoo magic work on Fae? Can we make them forget?”

“No. Faerie magic only works against their kind at the hands of another Fae, not a human. It’s too weak.”

“Darn.” It would be nice to make the FFG forget she ever wanted McKale.

“Robyn.” He touched my chin to make me look at him. “Everything’s going to work out tomorrow, I’m sure of it. But… in the off chance that things don’t go as we intend, Mom and I are willing to pack it all up and get you out of here. We’ll have to live on the run, trying to evade the Fae, and we won’t be able to use our magic anymore because they can track it. But—”

“No, Daddy.” I scooted over and let him envelop me in his big embrace. “Thank you, but I’m staying here no matter what. Not because the Fae are demanding it, but for McKale and his clan.”

I’d thought about this a lot the previous sleepless night. Even if McKale were forced to live in Faerie, I would be there for him. The thought of looking into his dead eyes and listening to him call me by her name was sickening, but I couldn’t leave him—not if there was even the slightest chance that I could break that trance. I guess when it came down to it I was as much of a hopeless romantic as my sister. I tightened my grip around Dad’s waist, wanting to make all frightening thoughts disappear.

Dad held me and kissed my head. “We’ll see how it goes. All I’m saying is if you want out, we’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you,” I whispered against his shoulder.

In return he murmured, “You have no idea how proud you make me, Robyn.”

AFTER MY WALK WITH Dad, McKale still hadn’t returned to the village for the night. Cassidy and I retired to our room early. I scouted it for nasty little Fae spies, but the room was clean and we felt safe enough to get in bed. We’d hardly gotten any rest the past few days, and after a couple hours of lying there talking, sleepiness took its toll, pulling us both under.

With the feathery down surrounding my head, the first notes of distant music were almost indistinguishable. I lifted my heavy head from the pillow, listening. There it was again: a faint, woeful tune ringing like a soft wail from the strings of a violin.

I bolted out of the bed and ran from the room. The music beckoned me, its song of sorrow matching the song of my own heart this night. It was an audible version of all my emotions. As I chased the source of the invisible grieving, my feet took me straight toward McKale’s bungalow where I halted.

The pixie was sitting on McKale’s doorstep, hands behind his little head. Its wicked smile revealed tiny razor teeth when it caught sight of me. I stepped back, right into Cassidy who was breathing hard. She grasped my upper arms and held me close to her. We stood there together saying nothing as the evil creature eyed us and the slow cry of low musical notes filled the air.

McKale’s song had captured my heart, urging me to him, and yet, because of this creature I couldn’t see him.

I looked up at a motion in my peripheral vision. It was Leilah, standing next to her boyfriend with a hand on her heart. A trickle of others began to join her, drawn to the power of the song. Mom was there, holding her robe closed with Dad at her side. As clan members drifted into the spaces between bungalows, I felt the power of their support. Our numbers were great in comparison to one small pixie. Revived, I lost all fear for the creature on McKale’s doorstep. I stared at it and took a step forward.

“Be careful,” Cassidy whispered, sensing my intentions, but she dropped her hands from my arms.

I went forward and stopped a few feet from its beady-eyed stare as it raised itself up to face me like a giant, fat, green bumblebee. “Let me pass.”

I was prepared for his attack this time, so when he darted up I swatted, my hand connecting to its squishy belly. But only for a second before he disappeared with a poof and reappeared on my other side, yanking my ear with his claws. The clan was on him before I had a chance to feel pain from his scratches. It was too much for the unsuspecting pixie. He tried to sift away, only to be grasped, punched, kicked, and smacked by another person wherever he reappeared. Leprechauns cried out in urgent voices about the “gloves and cage,” while little women screamed and skittered out of the way.

A bearded man ran out with crazy-looking gloves that appeared to be woven with thin metal. It took a moment before I realized it was Brogan without his hat. He was fearsome in his focused state, and he moved quicker than I thought possible. Behind him ran two of the Chaun holding a small, iron cage. One of the guys thunked the pixie hard from behind with his fist, dazing it. The pixie let out a hideous snarl when Brogan snatched it mid-air and the gloves wrapped around it. Brogan tossed the creature into the cage and someone slammed the door shut, locking it securely. We all cheered. Cassidy and I high-fived each other, laughing. Mom and Dad hugged us.




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