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Grey shivered and buried his face into his arms, cradling them between his knees and his chest. Would they toss him straight into the Hunt once Doctor Cavan handed him over? Did this creature even know he was a part of the Hunt?
He’d heard stories of people wandering into faerie circles and being tortured for days before they were dumped on the outskirts of the forest. Nothing but toys to play with and discard. Imagining this monster ripping him apart and dropping him straight into the Hunt to fight for his life made bile creep up his throat.
The steps complained again, multiple footfalls making Grey tense. It was all happening too quick and incredibly slow as the key slid into the door and light poured in. Trin moved inside and dropped down to a knee in front of him. The glint of a knife flicking open made Grey jump.
“Grey, listen to me,” he whispered, tucking the blade between his wrists and snapping the zip-tie free. “Run, and don’t look back. Don’t step foot into a single forest, and don’t reply to anything you can’t see, understood?”
“I-I don’t?—”
“Cavan will keep hunting you, just like the creature he communes with. The only way to break free is to find something greater to offer them.”
“But… why are you letting me go?”
Trin pulled him to his feet. “My sister was taken by the fair folk. I didn’t think Cavan would ever take it this far, but”—he shook his head—“I can’t go through with this.” He shoved Grey out into the hall, putting him face-to-face with Noel.
His face was smudged with blood and grime, but his shoulders fell in relief anyway. “You’re okay,” he breathed. An object flew past Grey’s head, falling into Noel’s hands. A key.
“Lock me in and get out of here,” Trin said. “Hurry.”
Grey spun around. “Won’t Doctor Cavan?—”
“Don’t worry about me. I can tell him you tricked me into opening the door and weakened me before I could do anything. Even if he doesn’t believe me, I’ve dealt with him enough, I can manage. Go.”
“Thank you,” Noel said, reaching for the door handle. “We won’t forget this.”
Trin waved it away, taking a seat on the floor as the door clicked shut and Noel slid the key into the lock. Then Noel seized Grey’s hand and tore down the stairs, dropping the key in Doctor Cavan’s office when they ducked inside. Grey’s bag sat slumped over in the corner and some of its contents scattered along the floor.
“Bastard,” Noel hissed, dropping to his knees to help Grey scoop everything into it. “Did he actually show you anything useful when you were in here last?”
Grey shook his head. “No. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
Noel ripped open a couple of desk drawers, fumbling with random notebooks and baubles as Grey slung his bag over his head. He held up his motorcycle key in victory and shoved his knife back into his boot. “Let’s go.”
He led the way again, bolting through the shop and kicking open the door. His bike still sat outside, undisturbed during the day they’d been held captive. Noel hopped on, revved the engine, and Grey scrambled to climb on behind him—right as a rusty, beat-up van rolled up.
“Hey!” Daz hung out of the driver’s seat, rage burning behind his irises.
“Hold on,” Noel ordered, punching the gas and shooting them straight through town.
Grey tensed, burying his face into Noel’s back and squeezing his eyes shut. Shouts and cries carried out behind them as the bike tilted back and forth through turn after turn. He only opened his eyes again when a squeal and crash sounded behind them, and Grey looked over his shoulder to smoke spilling out of the van’s hood just as they whipped around another corner.
The city gave way to countryside, and Noel dipped off the road, back on the winding, beaten trails once again.
10
NOEL
The ache in Noel’s thigh worked its way into a tremble, his body straining to fight through the pain. Grey’s weight against his back turned into his sole reason to continue, despite the nagging corner of his mind that he might be fighting back just as much pain from some hex or whatever that crazy doctor might’ve done to him. The embarrassing urge to cup his hand around one of Grey’s grasping at his jacket was deterred by the sweat slicking his palms.
“How bad is it?”
Grey’s tired question made him tense, his muscles struggling and screaming in protest.
“I can manage.”
His face rubbed back and forth against Noel’s jacket, like he was shaking his head. “Pull off in the tall grass for a few minutes so I can look.”
Noel slowed, automatically accepting the command and gliding the bike through the grass. Gaps of shorter or pressed down blades gave him pause as he imagined fair folk creeping out and camping here at night. Or, perhaps this is where people camped out to hide from the fair folk. Wild lavender brushed against his pant leg as he hopped off, nearly toppling into the almost-hidden pocket haven before letting his knees buckle.
