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But it’s not the sewer. And, right about now, that’s good enough for me.
I bound up the porch steps before I lose my nerve. The second my glove closes on the doorknob, I hear Carolina again.
“Riley?” Her voice wavers on my name. “You can’t go in there.”
That’s where she’s wrong.
Because yes.
Yes, I can.
Human Riley couldn’t. The Riley who’s just discovered that she has fae ears?
There isn’t a damn thing that she can’t do.
Without letting go of the doorknob, I turn toward Carolina.
“Look, I’m tired. I haven’t eaten in a while and that was after I threw up my guts for the last two days. Now you want me to believe that after years—years— hiding from the fae and their existence, I actually am one? All because my ears look like someone put them through the pencil sharpener? I just spent who knows how long in a dirty, smelly sewer. I’m going in this empty house, finding a corner to hide out in, and going to sleep. Maybe, in the morning, this will all be some really terrible dream or something, I don’t know. It’s worth a shot.”
“There’s so much more I need to talk to you about. Why don’t you come home with me? My house isn’t too far from here. Come with me, Riley.”
Come with me.
The last time someone tried to get me to leave this house with them didn’t work out so well for anyone involved. And if a fae couldn’t glamour and compel me into giving up my independence, this chick will never be able to pull it off.
She figures that out as soon as I start to enter the house. It’s dark in there, but it’s also growing even darker outside. Hey, at least it should be a little warmer in there.
“Okay,” Carolina calls after me. “That’s okay. We can talk here. Would you be mad if I come in, too?”
“Can I stop you?”
“No. Not really.”
That’s what I figured. “Whatever. My abandoned nightmare house is your abandoned nightmare house.”
You think that would’ve given her a second’s pause. It doesn’t. Before I’m even a few steps into the house, Carolina is moving quickly, slipping inside at my heels.
Was that a mistake? I hope not. Another of one of Nine’s lessons—funny how they’re all coming back to me now—was to be careful not to invite the wrong sort of creatures into your home.
But Carolina isn’t fae. I might be struggling with what I am at the moment—she’s still human. No denying that. So, after she closes the door behind us, I don’t give the invitation another thought.
I think the dark bothers her. Not me. I actually feel a little more at peace once the door closes behind her and we’re hidden among the shadows of a bare kitchen.
Carolina, on the other hand, searches the walls until she finds a light switch. She flicks it once, twice, then a third time. The click-click-click sounds like shots in the dark.
Because, yeah, it’s still super dark in here.
“There’s no electricity in here,” Carolina announces needlessly.
I shrug, zeroing in on the sink. After whispering a fervent prayer under my breath, crossing my fingers against my thigh, I reach with my left hand and twist the tap. The metal twists, the pipes groan, and rusty-colored water spits out of the faucet. Within seconds, the water clears.
Yes!
I gesture at the sink so that Carolina can see. Then, before I can stick my head under the stream, I turn it off. That can wait until I’m alone again.
“Hey,” I tell her, “it’s got running water. That’s way more than I’ve been used to lately. I’ll take it.”
“Right. You said something about the sewer before. Did you… you weren’t serious about that, were you? Where have you been, Riley?”
