Protecting Shaylee (The Fae Guard Book 1) (29 page)

Mom blinks at me a few times and the lack of reaction starts to freak me out a little bit, but Aden’s hand begins rubbing again and my muscles relax. Then my mom jumps up from the table, the quick movement surprising me and causing my heart to jump right out of my chest. The next thing I know, I’m being pulled from my chair and having the stuffing squeezed out of me. My mom is practically bouncing on her toes, and I laugh with relief and pleasure that she is so excited. My aunt trots around the table and convinces my mother to let me go so that she can congratulate me, as well. So, my mother moves on to Aden, but he’s a great sport and lets her gush all over him about her grandchildren.
Children?

Rhosyln steps back and her husband, Uncle Michael, gives me a warm hug, as well. “Congratulations, sweet pea.”
I really do miss my family.

He steps back and meanders over to Aden, patiently waiting for my mother and aunt to stop smothering him. After a minute, he clears his throat to draw their attention and whatever they see on his face, has them moving out of his way and coming back to me. They are tittering on about baby stuff, but I’m listening intently to the conversation being had between Uncle Michael and Aden.

My uncle is standing in front of him, legs braced apart, and arms crossed over his chest. He’s closer to my height than Aden’s and his shaggy, brown hair, and even shaggier mustache, take away from the imposing figure he is trying to be. To Aden’s credit and, my everlasting love, he stands across from Uncle Michael, his arms clasped behind his back, subdued and respectful.

“You got my sweet, innocent niece pregnant?”

I can see that Aden wants to smile at my uncle’s description of me, and I hope he doesn’t look my way because I’m sure he wouldn’t be able to keep it in if he saw the fire-engine-red (At least, that’s what it feels like.) blush covering my face. Sweet and innocent are not words I would use to describe what Aden and I do in the bedroom, or bathroom, or couch, kitchen, car . . . basically wherever we are when we are about to combust.

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t see a ring on her finger.”

Aden leans forward and somewhat whispers his response, “Not yet, sir.”

His words light that glow within me, the one that is reserved for him, warming me from the inside out.

Apparently, that was all my uncle needed to hear, because he gives a curt nod and shakes Aden’s hand. “Well, congratulations, then.”

At some point, my mom and aunt must have noticed my lack of attention because when I turn back to them, blinking away the moisture in my eyes, they are both smiling broadly at the exchange. Everybody’s approval means so much to me and I have to fight the tears off even harder.
When the hell did I get so emotional?

We visited and celebrated for another couple of hours until my aunt and uncle left for home. Aden excused himself to go unpack and get our room ready, but was waylaid by an argument with my mom over where he and I would be sleeping. It was the best entertainment I’d had all night. In the end though, Aden won out because my mom couldn’t dispute with his logic of wanting to be near me, since I’m still in danger. He left us alone after that and I know he was simply giving me some time with my mom.
How do I shut off these damn water works?!

I sat on the couch, snuggled up next to my mom and told her about everything that has happened, since I left. However, I downplayed the danger over the fact that I’m being hunted by a Fallen. By the time we called it quits and decided to go to bed, it was pretty late and we hugged goodnight. I found myself surrounded by her cinnamon scent and some of my worries melted a little farther away.

I wander around the kitchen now, looking for a late night snack. I’m so freaking hungry
all
of the time. I’m seriously going to be a whale before I hit my last month. My head is buried in the refrigerator when Aden’s hand snakes around my waist and yanks me back into him. Then the big caveman drags me back to the pantry, where he proceeds to give me dejavu. Only this time, it finishes in my bedroom the way I expected it to last time. Ok, not exactly like I expected—it’s so much better.

This eating for two thing?—It’s really working for me. I sit back and groan, rubbing my stomach to alleviate some of the fullness stretching it.
You’re eating for two, not five, Shamu.

Hayleigh drops what’s left of her Shack Burger in the basket and does the same thing. “Damn, Shaylee. You were right, best fucking burger and cheese fries, I’ve ever had.” She blows out some air as if to make room. I nod smugly, with an amused chuckle. I’ve really missed her and Laila.

Hayleigh showed up unexpectedly at my mom’s house a week ago. We’ve been here three weeks and Aden wanted to take the opportunity to check in with his charges while we are in the human realm. But one of them is in Montana and another in Spain. He can use his magic to get there, but it’s a little tricky when you’re not just crossing realms. I was feeling a little homesick for Rien (I know, I know. I was homesick for New York, and now Rien.), so when Hayleigh arrived and told me she would be staying with me while Aden was gone, I was beyond excited (I definitely noticed that it wasn’t Ean, Brannon, or Kendrix, and he was subjected to, no end of, teasing about it from me and Hayleigh until he left).

It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to show off my home city and unfortunately, when you live here, you tend to overlook all the fun, touristy stuff. I only do it when someone is visiting. I’d dragged her all over the city, to a bunch of my favorite spots. But—let’s face it—it’s New York. You’d need a year of doing nothing, but being a tourist, to see everything here. It helped to keep me from missing Aden quite so much.

I was worried she wouldn’t have much fun because she is so quiet and serious a lot of the time. However, she opens up and relaxes a little more around Laila and me, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that she seemed to really enjoy herself. I haven’t gotten the full story from Laila. I don’t even know if Laila knows the full extent of it, but Hayleigh ostensibly comes from a pretty broken family and it’s made her rather jaded. I’ve made it one of my goals to bring her out of her shell. So far, it’s worked fairly well, when it’s just us girls.

“It gets dark here so early; it’s screwing up my internal clock,” Hayleigh comments thoughtfully. “We should probably be getting back.”

I manage not to sigh at the timetable that is always set for me; our nights out are always done when the sun goes down. Sadly, in New York, during the winter, that’s around five thirty in the evening. I sneak a look at my watch and see that it’s just after six. Oops, we stayed out a little late tonight.
Ugh, how pathetic it is to say that at six o’clock. Are we little old ladies now?
Either way, I respect Aden’s wishes, so we clean up our garbage and head for home.

When we step outside the restaurant, I feel an unnatural rush of cool blow through my body. It’s as cold as only a northeast winter can be, but this seems different somehow. Not as biting, but just a cool breeze, flowing through my body, oddly from the inside out. It makes me slightly wary, but I push it aside and walk hastily beside Hayleigh in the direction of home. We turn down 67
th
to walk from 1
st
Ave to 2
nd
Ave before moving up the block to 86
th
. It takes us a moment to notice that something is off. That’s when we realize that all of the streetlamps are out.
The whole block?
However, there are no lights on in the apartments and town homes that line the block, either. I can feel the same unease rolling off of Hayleigh that is pulsing in my veins. I’ve been in the sun all day, hallelujah for that, so I bring the heat of my magic closer to the surface, making my skin slightly radiant, matching Hayleigh’s countenance.

She grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop in front of a single family brownstone that is obviously under construction, then grabs my hand and heads for the door.

I tug her hand back and force her to stop before we are on the first step. “Um, Hayleigh. I’m not a huge fan of horror flicks, but even I know that when the heroine enters an abandoned building at night, she usually ends up in little pieces, buried in the basement,” I say somberly.

She rolls her eyes, and moves up the steps, firmly towing me behind her. “First of all, those movies are ridiculous. Second, I doubt any of those women were Fae. And third, we are only passing through to get to the backyard,” she chides.

Backyard?
It’s extremely rare to find a building with a yard in New York City, but there are a few in the area, such as the house where I grew up. I’m about to ask how the hell she knew there was a yard but then I realize that standing just the right of the stairs, we are in front of an alley between the two buildings. The light on the buildings behind give off just enough glow to see a gate on either side at the end. Both of these buildings have an outdoor space, but the home she wants to enter is clearly vacant.

I follow her without persuasion now, understanding where her mind has gone to. I knew we were probably being trailed by a Fallen, possibly more than one. I just didn’t want to admit it. But, knowing that Hayleigh is headed for a backyard, where we have direct access to all of the elements, I really can’t ignore that instinct any more.

The house is quiet and dark, but we hurry through without incident, reaching the door to the back and wrenching it open, all the while she’s muttering about how Aden is going to kill her for letting his pregnant girlfriend be in danger. Now is not the time, but one of these days I’m going to have a “come to Jesus” meeting with everybody about their irrational assumptions that I cannot take care of myself.

I’m close behind Hayleigh, so when she stops suddenly, I ram right into her, although she barely moves an inch.

“Hayleigh, what the hell?” I gasp. I’m met with silence until the sound of the slamming door shatters it. Shuffling to the left of her, I look for whatever it is that has her avid attention.

A man is casually leaning on a twisted and gnarled tree that has grown by the back fence. His face is somewhat hidden in the shadows, but there is something familiar about him.

He casually pushes off of the tree and comes forward. “I’m disappointed in you, Shaylee,” he scolds. His voice is kicking up the instinct that I know him. “I could forgive you for being with another man, but now you’re pregnant? This just won’t do,” his tone indicates disappointment.
Who the hell is this guy?

He continues to close the gap between us, and at that moment, his face is highlighted by the glow of the moon.

Recognition hits me and I gasp, taking an automatic step backwards in revulsion.

Killian. Fucking Killian.

I’m completely stunned at his appearance. His features had begun to darken as he got older, his hair becoming dirty-blond and his green eyes becoming hazel. However, a lot of children start off with features that become the complete opposite as they grow. Generally, it happens in their childhood, but I just assumed it wasn’t that way for everyone. By the time he turned twenty-one, he had become a brunette with muddy-brown eyes and a more olive complexion.

Now, his hair is inky-black, cut slightly long so that it spilling over his collar and forehead. You would think that in the dark, I wouldn’t be able to see his eyes all that well, but they slice right through the distance between us and their color is so dark that I can barely see where the pupils end and the irises begin.

The cold rush I’d felt earlier is intensified in his presence, and I can feel it trying to cloak my magic, putting out the fire by denying it oxygen. Fear is clutching me, trying to figure out how to protect myself and get out of this.

Hayleigh has been watching our exchange in silence, her only movement . . . a small shift towards the right side of the steps that lead down into the garden. She is leaning against the wall, her hands behind her back, observing the sight in front of her with very little reaction. Her lack of emotion and the completely neutral expression of her face are confusing me—I suddenly feel very alone.

He gives me what, I think, is supposed to be an indulgent look, but it just comes off as a sickly smile. A small, but strong, wind whips behind me and gives me a push, knocking me down the stairs. I stumble, but manage to stay upright without having to reach out and steady myself on the nearest solid thing, which right now is Killian. The cold evil, emanating from him, makes my skin crawl and I am immensely grateful that I’m able to avoid touching him.

“So, what shall I do about our current situation?” he asks rhetorically. I keep silent and wait cautiously to see where this is headed.

He takes a wide stance and crosses his arms over his chest. It reminds me of how Aden stands sometimes, but while it makes him look strong and opposing, Killian seems small, like a little boy, trying to appear as a man. The wind pushes lightly on my back again and Killian advances to meet me. I power through the cold seeping into my body and pull the earth up to form a small bump on the ground. I find the tiniest measure of relief when my plan works and he trips over the hump, giving me time to step aside and nudge him with the wind so that he isn’t able to find his balance and crashes to the ground.