felt a sadness I didn’t know was possible until tonight. Everything inside me was too hard to control. “You try not to be so emotional when you haven’t gotten any sleep and you’ve never felt . . . you’ve never felt . . .” I sighed. “Remember the first time you touched me?”
He nodded, his lashes hiding the expression in his eyes, but I could tell he was worried.
“This hurts worse,” I said. “My heart? I don’t know how much it will take. I’m not used to feeling things, Hobs. I . . . I’ve got to get us back faster than three days or I’m dead. I swear this will kill me.”
He set his jaw, and the warmth of his hand lingered over mine even after he left the room.
Chapter Nine
Dare you haunt our hallow’d green?
None but fairies here are seen
Down and sleep,
Wake and weep,
Pinch him black, and pinch him blue
— Thomas Ravenscroft, The Fairies’ Danced
F aerytales. It was the bible of the faeries. Tales of stolen babies, witches, crown wars. This stuff was all real. I picked up the heavy book from the park bench and turned it over in my hands. I had stuffed all the scraps of Internet information I could in between the pages of the book, and it bulged with useless facts—it was amazing how much time I had when I didn’t sleep at night.
The big buckles on my white canvas ballet flats jingled as I walked through the park. The sunburned blades of grass spread out like Troll hair. Speaking of, I glanced over at Babs. She had grown overnight . . . I mean, she had literally grown overnight. She looked like a two-year-old. The girl had hair now, lots of it—like a little Rapunzel.
Hobs had put the quickly growing fuzz into two spiked devil horns on her head dashing any romantic notions I had for either of them. Not that I should have any for him. He stepped over the cracks in the cement, his hand over hers, looking relaxed in his gray pinstriped shorts. He drank me in with a leisurely look. The calm act didn’t trick me. He hadn’t slept last night either. My cry of distress that I was going to die had thrown him into a flurry of activity. He seemed to be on a mission now too. The problem was that it wasn’t mine.
That morning I had caught him typing with two fingers into the Internet search engine: guy peels off his face at golf course. I didn’t get it. He had ripped that off the tabloid he called useless. I was looking for a way back to Babs’ home, and he was looking for a Skinwalker. I didn’t see how they were connected. Hobs must’ve figured out how to wipe the history on my computer because after my brief glimpse over his shoulder, he cleared the screen with a snap of his fingers.
After that, there was no getting out of him what his plans were. He just watched me in that superior way of his and teased me until I couldn’t take anymore. I found myself announcing our outing to the park out of sheer desperation. I had to get out of the house. Now, if I could just get us to faeryland or to the Sidhe. Wherever. I had a whole stack of information on how to do it, though it had better not be as unreliable as the safety precautions against faeries. Faeries liked the woods. And yeah, our town was covered in firs and evergreens, but the Civic League Park was the closest thing to my house that resembled “the woods.” Somewhere in this park, I hoped to find an entrance to the faeries’ world. Then I would force it open and return Babs before I proved her undoing.
Babs toddled next to Hobs, and he slowed his stride to match hers. Her bare feet pressed into the hard, dead grass. She tripped on the hem of the overgrown shirt I had tugged over her head that morning. Hobs scooped her up from the sidewalk in one motion and spun her around. His leather flip flops slapped to the rhythm of their makeshift happy dance.
“What are you doing? You want the world to think she’s a flying two-year-old?” I eased Babs away from him and set her on her feet.
He nodded, his lashes hiding the expression in his eyes, but I could tell he was worried.
“This hurts worse,” I said. “My heart? I don’t know how much it will take. I’m not used to feeling things, Hobs. I . . . I’ve got to get us back faster than three days or I’m dead. I swear this will kill me.”
He set his jaw, and the warmth of his hand lingered over mine even after he left the room.
Chapter Nine
Dare you haunt our hallow’d green?
None but fairies here are seen
Down and sleep,
Wake and weep,
Pinch him black, and pinch him blue
— Thomas Ravenscroft, The Fairies’ Danced
F aerytales. It was the bible of the faeries. Tales of stolen babies, witches, crown wars. This stuff was all real. I picked up the heavy book from the park bench and turned it over in my hands. I had stuffed all the scraps of Internet information I could in between the pages of the book, and it bulged with useless facts—it was amazing how much time I had when I didn’t sleep at night.
The big buckles on my white canvas ballet flats jingled as I walked through the park. The sunburned blades of grass spread out like Troll hair. Speaking of, I glanced over at Babs. She had grown overnight . . . I mean, she had literally grown overnight. She looked like a two-year-old. The girl had hair now, lots of it—like a little Rapunzel.
Hobs had put the quickly growing fuzz into two spiked devil horns on her head dashing any romantic notions I had for either of them. Not that I should have any for him. He stepped over the cracks in the cement, his hand over hers, looking relaxed in his gray pinstriped shorts. He drank me in with a leisurely look. The calm act didn’t trick me. He hadn’t slept last night either. My cry of distress that I was going to die had thrown him into a flurry of activity. He seemed to be on a mission now too. The problem was that it wasn’t mine.
That morning I had caught him typing with two fingers into the Internet search engine: guy peels off his face at golf course. I didn’t get it. He had ripped that off the tabloid he called useless. I was looking for a way back to Babs’ home, and he was looking for a Skinwalker. I didn’t see how they were connected. Hobs must’ve figured out how to wipe the history on my computer because after my brief glimpse over his shoulder, he cleared the screen with a snap of his fingers.
After that, there was no getting out of him what his plans were. He just watched me in that superior way of his and teased me until I couldn’t take anymore. I found myself announcing our outing to the park out of sheer desperation. I had to get out of the house. Now, if I could just get us to faeryland or to the Sidhe. Wherever. I had a whole stack of information on how to do it, though it had better not be as unreliable as the safety precautions against faeries. Faeries liked the woods. And yeah, our town was covered in firs and evergreens, but the Civic League Park was the closest thing to my house that resembled “the woods.” Somewhere in this park, I hoped to find an entrance to the faeries’ world. Then I would force it open and return Babs before I proved her undoing.
Babs toddled next to Hobs, and he slowed his stride to match hers. Her bare feet pressed into the hard, dead grass. She tripped on the hem of the overgrown shirt I had tugged over her head that morning. Hobs scooped her up from the sidewalk in one motion and spun her around. His leather flip flops slapped to the rhythm of their makeshift happy dance.
“What are you doing? You want the world to think she’s a flying two-year-old?” I eased Babs away from him and set her on her feet.
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