She dodges a couple of other parked vehicles in the lot as her car swerves toward the exit, and narrowly avoids clipping Greg’s Mercedes Benz in the process. “Learn to park, Greg,” she screams.
As the car nears Ridge Street, Rachel looks around to make sure there isn’t any oncoming traffic, before she skips the stop sign and speeds away from the school. “Is it following us?” Her hands shake despite her grip on the steering wheel.
“Doesn’t look it,” Dougal says.
Rachel doesn’t slack off until they reach the next crossing, and then it’s only to rid herself of her sling bag and to secure the seatbelt across her body. She sits back in her seat, takes a deep breath to calm down, and slowly pulls away. Beside her, Dougal also settles into the passenger seat.
“That was a close call,” she says.
“Aye, too close for my likin’.”
Rachel turns to look behind them again, and finds the road clear of the Miser Fae. There is, however, an oncoming motorcycle—Cam’s motorcycle. When she rights herself, her heart is still pounding with adrenaline and fear. She pushes her emotions away, forcing the muscles in her face to remain neutral.
“Act normal,” she says to Dougal as she lowers the driver’s side window.
Cam comes to a halt beside her car, lifts his helmet shield and leans forward to look inside. “You guys all right?” he asks.
“Are you stalking me now?” Rachel asks, not a hint of humor in the question.
He grins, shrugs, and sits upright on his seat. “Maybe. Come find me at Pine Hill when you’re ready to have some real fun.” Cam closes his shield and revs the motorcycle, before speeding away.
“I have a bad feelin’ about that guy,” Dougal mumbles.
“You have a bad feeling about everyone.” Rachel shifts into first gear and pulls away, heading in the same direction as Cam. “But the feeling is mutual.”
Dougal grumbles something unintelligible, before saying, “What now? Are ye goin’ to the Fae Realm to get Orion?”
“I don’t even know how to begin planning for a trip into the Fae Realm,” Rachel says, cruising down the quiet street. “What’s the weather like over there? What’s the fashion? I’ll stick out like a sore thumb and probably get myself killed long before I ever lay eyes on Orion.”
“Well, we can’t leave that thin’ at the school.” Dougal’s voice hitches. “What about everyone who’d gotten one of those weird figurines? Are we gonna just stand by and watch them get hurt?”
“No, but we need to be smart about this. I mean, how long will it take me to actually find Orion in the Fae Realm? Maybe a week if I’m lucky? It’s impractical,” Rachel says. “Everything we need to fight this Miser Fae should be right here in Shadow Grove, but ...”
When she doesn’t continue, Dougal says, “But?”
Rachel’s strength dulls even more as she wracks her mind for answers. “I don’t know.”
Dougal shifts in his seat. “Then we better get our funeral outfits ready.”
As grim as it sounds, Dougal makes sense. There’s a pencil-thin line between an accident and certain death.
They remain silent for a while, before Dougal breaks the silence. “Where are we goin’?”
“Before I do anything absurd, I want to hear your grandmother’s thoughts on what we’re up against. I don’t recall reading about that particular Miser Fae in my father’s journals, but I expect it’s been holed up at the school for years. Maybe since Mrs. Crenshaw’s days at Ridge Crest High,” Rachel explains. “It’s probably what inspired the tale of the ghost.”
“What ghost?”
“The one who supposedly roams the halls and haunts the old schoolhouse,” she says. “Seriously, Dougal, what do you guys even talk about?”
“Mostly just girls and cars,” he answers, shrugging. “Sometimes football.”
Rachel shakes her head as she flicks on the indicator and turns onto Main Road, driving past the colonial buildings of the historical sector. Those milling about the thriving small businesses have no idea what types of danger prowls around this town. They don’t want to know. The locals believe what the Sheriff and town council want them to know. Anything else is simply nonsense—fake news.
She drives toward the edge of Shadow Grove, where a four-story building sits at the bottom of a grassy hilltop. Metal lettering is fixed across the entrance, proclaiming it to be Shadow Grove Hospital. The windows sparkle in the morning sunlight, the well-kept lawns and flower gardens give it a professional vibe without losing too much of the small town charm. On the surface, Shadow Grove Hospital almost looks like a world-class medical facility.
Such a pity it’s all for show.
Rachel waves to the uninterested security guard standing at the entrance and drives into the parking lot. She searches for a vacant spot between all the stationary vehicles. There are always too many cars here. Some cars have literally rusted from weathering the elements over the years. Layers upon layers of dust and grime cover other vehicles. They just stand here to make it look like the hospital is always busy, when it rarely has any patients.
“It’s so freaking weird,” Rachel whispers as she finds a space near the entrance.
“Huh?”
“The cars,” she says, absently nodding to a nearby vehicle. “The town council misjudged the size needed for the hospital’s parking lot, so their brilliant plan to fool the tourists was to fill it up with second-hand cars.”
“Are any of ‘em for sale then?”
Frowning, Rachel parks her Hyundai i10. “I guess you should ask Mr. Farrow if he’s willing to sell, seeing as some of these cars belong to him. His spare parts need to come from somewhere.”
Dougal purses his lips together and nods. “I’ll do that.”
“Tired of me being your chauffeur?”
“Aye.” He opens the car door. “Ye’re a menace on the road.”
Rachel grins, shrugs one shoulder, and switches off the engine. She looks at the parking lot, at the cars in their various stages of disrepair. Some are salvageable, though. If Dougal uses some elbow grease and puts some money into the project, he can build up a
