“Ah.”
Keeping up small talk with Bridgette was nerve wracking now that I knew what she was. Fae. A magical creature that could do who knew what to me.
My anxiety climbed the closer we got to the mall. It didn’t help that I’d caught her looking at my fisted hands—hands that I immediately forced myself to relax—or that she kept shooting me glances out of the side of her eye.
Just act normal.
“So, what style of shoes were you thinking about getting?” Bridgette asked as we entered the mall.
I shrugged. “Something with a heel?”
“A heel.”
“Well, he looked like he was a lot taller than me, so, yeah.”
I paused at the entryway to Seelies. Show time. “Crap!”
“What?”
“I left my money in the car.”
“Don’t worry. Stuart’s cool. He’ll spot you until you’re good for it.”
I shook my head. “No, um…” Crap. “I also had some ideas in my backpack—a few doodles from class.” Technically true. I doodled all the time in class.
“For shoes?”
“Could you mind grabbing it for me? I have to be back for dinner, so I don’t have a lot of time.”
Bridgette stood looking at me for one second too long. When she glanced inside Seelies, something caught her eye. I was about to follow her gaze when she looked back at me, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Sure, Kella. I’ll get what you need.”
Inside, I was cheering.
“Thanks, Bridgette.”
She nodded and left for her car.
Relieved, I hurried into Seelies—only to find Stuart looking at me apologetically, Mickey by his side.
Mickey wasn’t looking apologetic, though. Instead, lightning bolts danced in his eyes, searching for a good target to burn to ash.
“Kella!” Stuart gave a tense laugh. “I, uh, I thought…” He looked over at Mickey helplessly but quickly looked back, not quite liking the sight. “Since he’s yer family and all—and considering who you are—mayhap it’d be a wee bit better if he explained it, since I be saying a bit too much every now and again. Putting me foot in me mouth, so to speak. And knowing what I be knowing and knowing you and what ye don’t be knowing—”
“So,” Mickey cut in, “you came to Stuart—a guy you just met—to ask about portals, magic, and fae?”
I pasted on a sarcastic smile. “Well, who else should I have asked, you? You had weeks to spill the whole magic thing and didn’t.”
“Fair point.” Mickey folded his skinny arms and leaned back against the cashier counter. “But I wasn’t able to say anything before—at least not directly.”
I snorted. “Right. So what was keeping you from spilling everything?”
“Magic.”
I paused. “Oh.” Another pause. “Really? Why?”
“Because the fae council didn’t want to freak you out on top of everything else that’s happened to you, so anyone who was going to have frequent contact with you had to swear not to reveal anything.”
“Oh!” said Stuart. “That’s why ye never said anything. And here I was thinking ye thought she would run when she found out that—” Stuart’s words slowed underneath Mickey’s glare until they came to a dead stop. “Yeah, never mind.”
“Run when I found out what?”
“Well, the truth about everything,” Mickey said, waving a hand around.
“Why? Okay, yeah, popping my head through a shopping portal was a little weird, but after I got over the initial shock—”
“Wait, your head went through a portal? Not just a hand or a foot?”
“Well, no. But it was only my head.”
“Only your head?” Mickey’s eyes looked like they were about to burst.
“Yeah, that’s it. Didn’t Stuart tell you that already?”
Mickey’s mouth worked.
“I may have forgotten to mention that part.”
Mickey closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “And you will keep forgetting to mention that part, right?”
“Oh, aye, Mickey.”
At Mickey’s doubtful expression, Stuart said, “I swear it.”
When Mickey looked back at me, worry clouded his eyes.
“So it was your head that went through, and you’re fine? There wasn’t any push back? Any negative consequences?”
“Well, ‘fine’ is relative—”
“But you went through a portal that requires magic?”
“Well, I don’t know about requiring magic since I got through just fine—”
“And nothing—no pushback, no pain—nothing?”
“No—”
Excitement lit his eyes, expelling the worry that had crowded in moments before.
“Well, this raises quite a few questions.”
I nodded my head emphatically. “I completely, one hundred percent agree. So, about—”
“Yes.” Mickey grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the store. “We’ll get to the magic soon enough. First, though—”
“First,” I said, snatching my arm away from him, “you can tell me about the whole ‘maybe it’s not a bad idea if she dies’ thing.”
Mickey stilled.
“Yeah, that’s right. I heard the whole thing.”
“It’s not what it sounded like.”
“I hope not, because it sounded like—”
Mickey darted in front of me and covered my mouth with his hand, casting glances around the mall, where a few heads were turned our way. “Not here.”
Half-tempted to bite his hand, I nodded instead. After all, I didn’t know what he could do back to me.
He removed his hand.
“Where, then?”
“Wait until we get home.”
I hated waiting. I ground my teeth as we walked to Maeve’s car.
“Where’s Bridgette? She was getting my bag,” I said, looking around the parking lot, halfway expecting her to pop up from behind a car.
“She’ll drop your things off on her way home. She’s not one for waiting around.”
“Ah.” As soon as Mickey shut his door, I said, “So?”
“Not here.”
“What do you mean ‘not here’? There is no one here to hear!”
He frowned. “Just wait until—"
“I am not waiting so you can figure out how you’re gonna spin whatever it is so everything seems okay when it’s not—especially when you’ve been talking about me dying. I want answers. Now.”
“Fine, but a question for a question.”
“Really?” I crossed my arms.
He sighed. “It’s a fae thing—the way we ensure information exchanges are fair.”
“But I’m not fae.”
“You’re in fae territory, so when in Rome…”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. But I’m going first. And I’m only answering your question if your answer to mine is good enough,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“That’s fair. What’s
