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Refuge(11)

By:Karen Lynch


He groaned. “And what’s worse is I’ll be working for Uncle Max at the lumber yard. Every weekend.”

“Didn’t you always say you’d rather work at a fast food joint than for Maxwell?”

“I have no choice. I gotta make some cash if I’m ever going to get some new wheels, and the lumber yard pays good money.”

Guilt settled over me. Roland’s pickup had been ripped up by a pack of crocotta trying to get to me. He loved that old truck.

“I know why you’re quiet all of a sudden, and you better stop it,” he ordered. “That was not your fault. Besides, one of the guys in the pack might sell me an old Mustang he has in his shed. It needs some work, but my cousin, Paul, said he’d help me fix it up. You remember him; he’s the mechanic. I just need to get enough for a down payment and it’s mine.”

I smiled at the excitement in his voice. “I wish I was there to see it. You never did finish teaching me how to drive.”

“Forget it! I saw what happened to the last car you drove.”

“Hey, that was so not my fault, and I got away from the bad guys, didn’t I?”

“They must have lots of cars there you can practice on, and they can afford to replace them.” He made a sound like a snort. “I bet Nikolas could teach you, if you don’t kill each other first.”

My hand jerked, almost knocking over the bottle of Coke. I pushed it out of my reach and glared at it. “I haven’t seen him since he dumped me here and took off.”

Roland was quiet for a moment. “I’m sure he has lots of work to catch up on and he’ll be back soon.”

“He can stay away for good for all I care.”

“Come on, you don’t mean that. Nikolas is not such a bad guy, and coming from me, that’s something.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” My face heated up, and my palms prickled as resentment flared in me at hearing my best friend defend him. I knew I was overreacting, but I couldn’t stop the angry hurt that came every time I thought about Nikolas leaving the same day we got here. After everything we went through, he couldn’t even be bothered to say good-bye.

A soft hissing pulled me from my silent rant. I looked at the Coke bottle a few inches from my hand, and gasped at the brown soda bubbling up as if it had been shaken. My hand closest to the bottle was crawling with blue static, and sparks leapt from my fingers to the bottle that looked ready to explode.

I jerked my hand back and tucked it under my other arm, and almost immediately, the soda began to settle down. What was happening to me? Whatever it was, it was getting worse.

“Hello? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I tried to keep the tremble from my voice. “I got distracted for a minute. I need to tell you something.”

“Okaaay,” he said warily. “You haven’t been selling troll parts on the black market have you?”

“Roland!”

“Sorry.”

I sucked in a long, slow breath. “You know how my friend Aine said my Fae powers might start to grow? I think it’s happening – or something is going on anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s like my power is on the fritz or something.” I described the little flare-ups I’d been having, including the strange cold spot in my chest. “I almost made a bottle of Coke explode a few minutes ago, just by touching it.”

“Hmm.” He was quiet for a minute. “Maybe it’s tied to your emotions.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t been very happy since you went there, and you got mad when I mentioned Nikolas. Faeries are supposed to be, like, happy all the time, right? Maybe being negative screws with your Faerie magic.”

I snorted. “Great explanation.”

“No seriously. Or it could be hormones. It’s not that time – ?”

“Stop! Do not go there if you know what’s good for you!” My face really was flaming now.

Smothered laughter reached my ears, and I called him a few not-so-nice things, which only made him laugh openly. The thing about Roland is that it’s really hard to resist his laughter.

“Feel better?” he asked when we’d both finally stopped cracking up.

“Yes.” I wiped my eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“But you love me anyway.” His voice grew more serious. “I’m sure this thing with your power is nothing. You’ve been through a lot lately, and it’s probably messing with you.”

“Maybe you’re right.” What he said made sense. This had only started up since I came here. I wasn’t miserable, but I wasn’t happy either.