with each breath. I tried putting my hand between them and my cheek, but it turned out my hand was just as ticklish.
I couldn’t hear anything. I hoped that meant Aunt Grace wasn’t actually searching the apartment for me. If she wasn’t searching, then maybe I could get out of this closet before I lost my mind. Assuming I hadn’t lost it already. If she was searching for me, it occurred to me that she might be able to do some kind of magic to find me. Note to self: ask Kimber for more details about how magic works if and when you have a chance.
It’s hard to keep track of time when you can’t see or hear, but it felt like I was in that closet forever. It grew stuffy almost immediately, and sweat trickled down the small of my back and between my pitiful excuse for breasts. I was seriously tempted to tear the feathers off of Kimber’s dress, but I was afraid someone might hear me and I’d give myself away.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if Kimber had left me here long after Grace had left just for a practical joke, I heard voices approaching. My breath caught in my throat and my heart started to hammer when I recognized one of those voices as Aunt Grace’s.
I let my breath out slowly and quietly. My heart hammered against my chest, and sweat beaded on my forehead.
“Would you like to look under the bed?” I heard Kimber ask, and she sounded drily amused. “Or how about in the closet? Though I’d open that door carefully if I were you. Things have a tendency to fall out. I don’t think she’d fit in one of my drawers, but you’re welcome to check there too if you’d like.”
Was Kimber nuts? Why was she actually suggesting Aunt Grace search the closet?
I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping when I heard the closet door swing open. No matter how much I told myself I didn’t think my aunt would kill me, there was no denying I was terrified. I pressed myself harder into the corner, but just as we’d had to move a lot of junk to get me in here, Aunt Grace would have to move a lot of junk before she’d be able to see me. I held my breath as I heard hangers clanking together and shoes hitting the floor. Kimber laughed as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and I wished I could reach her to smack her.
The closet door slammed shut, and I could hear the fury in Aunt Grace’s voice.
“Fine!” she snarled. “You or your brother have hidden her somewhere else. Don’t think I won’t find her! And you and whoever else was involved in her abduction will spend the next twenty years behind bars.”
Kimber said something in answer. I didn’t catch it, but I guess Aunt Grace did, because the next thing I heard was a loud slap, followed by Kimber’s gasp. I clenched my fists and bit my tongue to keep from shouting a protest. I’d disliked—and feared—Aunt Grace since the moment I’d met her, and it seemed my instincts had been spot on. I started groping blindly in search of a weapon. If Grace hit Kimber again, I was fully prepared to charge out of the closet and come to her defense. (Yes, I knew that would be dumb, but I would have felt like a coward if I’d hidden in the closet while Kimber got hurt.) Luckily, there were no further sounds of violence before the angry stomp of Grace’s footsteps told me she was leaving.
chapter eleven
I was not in the most cheerful of moods when Kimber came back to dig me out of the closet. My nerves were shot, I was sweating like a pig, and I was so mad I wanted to punch her beautiful, delicate face. (Never mind that I’d been ready to charge to her rescue moments ago.)
“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked as I practically fell out of the closet, tripping over a tennis racket on the way out. Who knew the Fae played tennis? How terribly … ordinary.
Kimber grabbed my shoulders before I did a face-plant, but I jerked away from her. Unfortunately, I then stepped on a shoe. My ankle gave way, and I landed on my butt. And I’d thought I
I couldn’t hear anything. I hoped that meant Aunt Grace wasn’t actually searching the apartment for me. If she wasn’t searching, then maybe I could get out of this closet before I lost my mind. Assuming I hadn’t lost it already. If she was searching for me, it occurred to me that she might be able to do some kind of magic to find me. Note to self: ask Kimber for more details about how magic works if and when you have a chance.
It’s hard to keep track of time when you can’t see or hear, but it felt like I was in that closet forever. It grew stuffy almost immediately, and sweat trickled down the small of my back and between my pitiful excuse for breasts. I was seriously tempted to tear the feathers off of Kimber’s dress, but I was afraid someone might hear me and I’d give myself away.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if Kimber had left me here long after Grace had left just for a practical joke, I heard voices approaching. My breath caught in my throat and my heart started to hammer when I recognized one of those voices as Aunt Grace’s.
I let my breath out slowly and quietly. My heart hammered against my chest, and sweat beaded on my forehead.
“Would you like to look under the bed?” I heard Kimber ask, and she sounded drily amused. “Or how about in the closet? Though I’d open that door carefully if I were you. Things have a tendency to fall out. I don’t think she’d fit in one of my drawers, but you’re welcome to check there too if you’d like.”
Was Kimber nuts? Why was she actually suggesting Aunt Grace search the closet?
I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping when I heard the closet door swing open. No matter how much I told myself I didn’t think my aunt would kill me, there was no denying I was terrified. I pressed myself harder into the corner, but just as we’d had to move a lot of junk to get me in here, Aunt Grace would have to move a lot of junk before she’d be able to see me. I held my breath as I heard hangers clanking together and shoes hitting the floor. Kimber laughed as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and I wished I could reach her to smack her.
The closet door slammed shut, and I could hear the fury in Aunt Grace’s voice.
“Fine!” she snarled. “You or your brother have hidden her somewhere else. Don’t think I won’t find her! And you and whoever else was involved in her abduction will spend the next twenty years behind bars.”
Kimber said something in answer. I didn’t catch it, but I guess Aunt Grace did, because the next thing I heard was a loud slap, followed by Kimber’s gasp. I clenched my fists and bit my tongue to keep from shouting a protest. I’d disliked—and feared—Aunt Grace since the moment I’d met her, and it seemed my instincts had been spot on. I started groping blindly in search of a weapon. If Grace hit Kimber again, I was fully prepared to charge out of the closet and come to her defense. (Yes, I knew that would be dumb, but I would have felt like a coward if I’d hidden in the closet while Kimber got hurt.) Luckily, there were no further sounds of violence before the angry stomp of Grace’s footsteps told me she was leaving.
chapter eleven
I was not in the most cheerful of moods when Kimber came back to dig me out of the closet. My nerves were shot, I was sweating like a pig, and I was so mad I wanted to punch her beautiful, delicate face. (Never mind that I’d been ready to charge to her rescue moments ago.)
“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked as I practically fell out of the closet, tripping over a tennis racket on the way out. Who knew the Fae played tennis? How terribly … ordinary.
Kimber grabbed my shoulders before I did a face-plant, but I jerked away from her. Unfortunately, I then stepped on a shoe. My ankle gave way, and I landed on my butt. And I’d thought I
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