Bedlam Boyz(48)

"And to answer your last question," Nataniel continued. "The humans don't see us as what we are because we don't want them to. Surely you can understand that, being what you are."

And what does he think I am? Kayla wondered.

He smiled, as if knowing her thoughts. "A very frightened human child, who also knows the ways of magic." He took her hands in his, looking into her eyes. She couldn't look away, couldn't pull away . . . the room tilted around her, strange colors and scents moving past her. She saw a blur of images: herself, standing next to the racks of potato chips with the fire burning over her hands; Billy's blood on her fingers, the wound slowly sealing itself as she watched; the crazy man in the jail, shouting at her.

Devil's daughter! You're the Devil's daughter!

The images faded as her hands burst into flame, cold blue fire flickering over her fingers. It illuminated the patio, the light reflected in Nataniel's and Shari's catlike eyes.

"As I thought," Nataniel said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "So, what shall we do with you, little girl?"

He makes my skin crawl, Kayla thought. I don't know who this guy is, or what he wants with me, but I don't like the way he looks at me.

"Do you think she's strong enough to go against Queen Lilith, my lord?" Shari asked quietly.

Nataniel's eyes never left Kayla's face. "Possibly. Quite possibly." He steepled his fingers together. "I have a business proposition for you, girl. As I said, I am a banished prince, unjustly exiled from my homeland. If you're powerful enough, you could help me regain my position in the Unseelie Court. And I'd reward you greatly. What do you wish for?" He spread his hands wide. "Cars, jewelry, money, property . . . anything could be yours. Is there a man that you want? We can make sure that he'll always want you, that he'll never even think of anyone else."

Kayla thought about one particular man and his laughing dark eyes. She thought about how she'd feel if she knew that he'd never leave her, he'd always love her . . .

No. That's not right. They shouldn't do this to anyone. Playing with people's minds, treating them like they're toys—that's not right.

"What—what if I don't want to?" she asked hesitantly. "What if I just want to go home?"

Nataniel shrugged. "Then you can leave, of course. We won't stop you."

"You mean it?" Kayla stared at him in surprise.

"Of course." He smiled. "I'm asking for your help, not demanding it. If you don't want to help me, you can leave, just walk out the door."

Shari and Nataniel exchanged silent looks. Kayla thought she could hear a whisper of sound in the silence, something quieter than the waves against the sand, but it was too faint to make out all of the words. . . .

: . . . through the Door, my lord?:

:If she survives, then she's of value to me. If not, then it makes no difference . . . :

Kayla decided she didn't like the look in their eyes at all. There was something in the way they were watching her, as if they were trying not to smile about a joke that she didn't know about.

"I'd like to go home and think about it," Kayla said at last. "If that's okay by you?"

"Just walk out the door, girl. We won't stop you," Nataniel said.

It sounded like the best idea yet. Maybe she could get some more information from Shari on the way home. . . .

Kayla started through the patio door to walk through the house, and stopped in mid-step.

Something was wrong. It was too quiet. It took her a half-second to realize that the sound of the ocean waves had suddenly stopped.

And it was too dark, as though the streetlights had suddenly gone out, too. She squinted, trying to see anything in the pitch darkness, and then realized what else was wrong as well.

She was standing on uneven ground, not on the carpeted floor.

Kayla concentrated hard, imagining the blue fire coiling over her outstretched hand, the lines of light rippling over her fingers. . . .

Her hand brightened with fire, enough to illuminate what was around her. She looked around quickly, and blinked.

She wasn't standing in the house. It was too dark to see, but she knew that she was Somewhere Else. Somewhere that smelled of trees and dead leaves and another smell that she couldn't identify, a strangely foul but sweet smell, like something dead and rotting. And there was something squishy underfoot that she couldn't identify, either. She stood very still, too startled and scared to move.

The area brightened suddenly with another light, as the full moon emerged from behind the thick dark clouds overhead, illuminating the trees around with a silvery light.

Trees!

It was a forest, she could instantly see that much. Not a house in Los Angeles, but a forest. A dark, apparently endless, forest, surrounding her with trees for as far as she could see in the dim light.