Tracks

I awoke with a jerk. The breath went out of me as I slammed my head into the backboard. Cursing, I sat up, taking a quick inventory of my surroundings to make sure I was still at Egan Street and hadn’t somehow slipped off into Faeryland. The moment I discovered I hadn’t, I fell back down onto my pillows and threw my arms over my eyes.

What the hell had that been all about? I demanded of my subconscious, though, naturally I didn’t get a response. I sat up again, glanced at the clock by my bed. 12:26 right on the dot. I’d slept the rest of the afternoon away only to be woken in the middle of the night by a singing woman. Terrific.

I should’ve known I’d have no luck sleeping peacefully tonight. There were too many conflicting things going on in my brain. With my brother, my cousin, and every other goddamn person suddenly turning into something they weren’t, how could I expect to have one night of peace? That was a madness all its own.

I threw back the covers and swung my feet off the bed. I was wide awake now and in a much worse mood than I’d been in when I’d fallen asleep. I wasn’t crying or upset or hurt or heartbroken. Instead, I was pissed. Now, I just wanted to know what the hell was going wrong with my world and stop it.

I shoved myself off the bed and started pacing, ignoring the angry groans of the house. The dream was still ringing in my ears, the song the woman had been singing still playing on repeat in the back of my head, those three verses haunting me—one in particular.

Reason tells me to cut and run

Wisdom tells me my time is done

Shatter...Obey and shatter...

I remembered the day Aaron had written that song. It was the same day I’d completed the painting of the Lady. We’d both been in a mood. Painting the Lady had resulted in a cloud over my head, forlorn from trying to channel her emotions to draw her with justice. And since I’d spent the better part of that afternoon telling him her story, Aaron had blamed me for the sorrow in his song.

“Well, next time, don’t write in my bedroom,” I’d told him, throwing a smirk over my shoulder.

He’d chucked a pencil at me. “Or, brilliant idea, you could just start drawing unicorns again like you did when you were eight.”

I’d spun to face him. “I’ve never in my life drawn a fucking unicorn.”

“Then maybe you should start.”

At which point, I’d smeared red paint on his forehead with the palm of my hand, only to be retaliated against later with a handful of sugar down my shirt during our failed apple pie escapade.

The point was, I hadn’t thought about that song in forever—not until seeing my painting at the castle. He’d written it a little less than a year ago, but he’d hardly ever played it; it made him too sad, he’d always said. Now, I wondered about it. That line…reason tells me to cut and run, wisdom tells me my time is done… It reminded me of the night he died.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was getting nowhere with all these questions. Absolutely nowhere. All I was doing was creating newer, bigger problems for myself. Though, this time, it was my stupid dreams’ fault, rather than Ireland’s. If I ever wanted answers, then I had to go to the source. And I was damn well done avoiding her.

I spun away from the window and stormed across the room, wrenching my door open and stomping down the hall to Leila’s, like the general of an army. I didn’t care who I woke up—Brenna or the neighbors in Asia. It was time Leila told me everything she knew about the Faeries and my brother.

I banged on her door, the wood shuddering beneath my fist.

Silence.

I banged again, determined not to give up until she either opened the door or I broke it down myself.

But she never came. Nor did Brenna come looking. Angry, I threw open my cousin’s door, intending to curse her out until she rolled her royal blonde ass out of bed. My plans were brought to a screeching halt when I realized my cousin wasn’t even in her room.

Confused, and not a little annoyed, I went back out and across the hall to Brenna’s room, storming inside as weel and finding the same thing. I stood in the center of my aunt’s room, brows high. It was half past midnight and no one was home? What the hell?

I hurried downstairs, no longer noticing the screams of the household, and searched the entire first floor of the cottage for the Callaghans. But there was no one to find. No one was home. What the hell did a—okay, well I knew what a teenager might be doing out past midnight. But what the hell did an almost forty-year-old woman need to be doing out at midnight?

I was tempted to go look for them. I was tempted to grab my skateboard and search the entire town for them. But reason caught up with me and I paused: what did it matter? They wanted to keep up with the secrets? Then fine. I could give them one more night. But that didn’t mean I was going to sit at home and go stir crazy meanwhile.

I didn’t have a plan. I walked out the front door, ignoring the fact that I didn’t have my cell phone on me—a weak attempt to stick it to them later—and slammed the door shut. Then I just started walking.

It didn’t hit me until I had left the neighborhood that I was heading toward town. It briefly crossed my mind to go to the railroad, but what good would it do? I couldn’t get back to the castle without Tracks and even if I could, what would I look for? The name of the woman in the portrait? The other stuff of mine Aaron might’ve filled the music room with?

I wasn’t in the mood for any more memories right now. I wanted to cry for Aaron; I wanted to scream at Aaron. I was too mixed up to figure out what I wanted from him anymore. And I didn’t know enough about the woman in black to know how to unravel her mystery. There was nothing for me at the railroad right now.

I wandered through town, looking around for any sort of life. The streetlamps were lit, faint and dim, casting shadows in every corner of the street. There were a couple places open—both of them pubs, neither of them busy. Mary’s shop was silent, only the window display lit, and the remains of Ripper’s were nothing but a heap of rubble, outlined with yellow police tape.

I half expected to see the woman in black through the gap where the window had been, but the shop was empty. Silent. Not a single noise emanated from within.

I forced myself to turn away from the rubble, not go inside and search for the woman. It wasn’t as though she’d really be there—as though she’d ever been there. A dream was just a dream. Nothing more.

Except part of me really didn’t believe that anymore.

I headed through the village, my hands tucked in my pockets, suddenly thankful I’d fallen asleep in my jeans. It was peaceful this time of night, when all the people who knew my family slept. Now, I could pretend there was no magic, no hidden Otherworld where Faeries had once lived and reigned. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to think about. It was almost possible to relax.

I walked past the church and hesitated outside the door. There was no Otherworld out here, I considered again, but I couldn’t pretend there was no magic. This was where it had all started. Except for my first meeting with Tracks, this church was where the Faery mysteries had begun. When I’d skated too far and walked in on the big confrontation between Fitz and Leila. When I’d realized that my brother’s death was being falsified to protect me from winged suits.

Tempted that I might find a clue or two left behind by those guys, I pulled open one of the big, wooden doors and stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was that it was freezing; the floor was like ice against my toes. The second thing I noticed was that I’d inadvertently found my cousin again.

Like a bad case of déjà vu, I heard Leila’s voice before I saw her. Then I knelt where I had before, and peeked around the curtain to see who she was talking to.

Brenna. And Lincoln and Owen and Chris. No Fitz this time.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“How do ye intend to continue to keep this a secret from her, Lei?” Chris wanted to know from his chair on her right.

They’d begun preparing for the ball at some point, and the room was now lined with three long tables and bags of untouched decorations. The five of them sat at the furthest table, Leila leaning back casually in the chair at the head. Brenna was placed on her left, and Lincoln and Owen stretched out right on top. The five of them looked like a casual version of a summit meeting.

Which was exactly what they were in the middle of.

“I don’t know,” Leila admitted to Chris, picking at her fingernails absently. “But we’ve got to. Leslie doesn’t need to get involved in any of this.”

“Is that really fair though?” Lincoln wondered.

I realized when he spoke that his left leg was currently in a brace, a pair of crutches leaning against the table beside him. I clenched my fist.

“She’s gonna figure it out eventually,” he went on. “And she’ll be upset when she realizes we kept it from her.”

Leila laughed wryly. “She’s already upset, Lincoln; she arrived upset. But it doesn’t matter; at least, she’s safe.”

Brenna nodded. “That’s what’s important.”

“But…” Lincoln broke off, when everyone looked at him curiously. I rolled my eyes. Of course. The one person who’s defending me is the one who gets the negative looks, not the person who’s choosing to lie to me. He shrugged sheepishly. “Leila, it’s…it’s not really your choice to make.”

I started to nod, but Leila disagreed. “You’re right; it’s Aaron’s. And I’m doing what he would’ve wanted me to do.”

I opened my mouth then, planning to let her know exactly what Aaron would’ve wanted her to do, when a hand clamped over my mouth, shutting me up and pulling me away. For a split second, I panicked, my mind going instantly to Fitz. I spun out of his grip and threw a punch, as instinctual as it was intentional. Except I underestimated our distance from the front door and sent whoever it was right into it. The bang echoed through the church like a gunshot.

At once, the lower level went silent.

“Damn it, Leslie,” Tracks hissed, grabbing my hand and yanking me through the door, even as I heard someone below running straight for the stairs.

The second we were outside, Tracks grabbed me around the waist and flew us up to the roof, hiding us on the far side, in the shadows cast by the single tower. He released me once we touched down and his hands flew immediately to his nose.

“Oh my God!” I breathed, surging forward and wincing when I saw blood. “Oh my God, Tracks, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“I know. Shh.”

“I—”

“Shh!” he said again, holding up a hand for silence.

Guilt was the only thing that kept me from arguing.

“Hello?” I heard Leila’s voice, calling out into the night. I couldn’t help smirking at the irony; she probably thought Fitz had just overheard something vital when instead, it was just little ol’ me. The one person she wanted to keep completely ignorant. It was a small victory on my part—not even a true victory since she didn’t know—but it made me feel like I’d gotten one up on my cousin.

I ignored the rest of her calls, more concerned about Tracks, and waited in silence as he dug into his pocket for a handkerchief. He wiped away the blood—I was relieved to note it wasn’t gushing—and then he held it to his nose for good measure. I walked up to him and laid a hand on his arm.

“I’m really, really sorry,” I whispered.

He smirked. “You should be.”

The sarcasm was a welcome relief to what his reaction could’ve been. I waited until I heard the door to the church close, then said, “Just out of curiosity, what were you doing there?”

Now, it was his turn to look sheepish. He hesitated. “I was worried about you after what happened at the castle. I was hanging around your window to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid. I was in the tree outside when I saw you walk out the front door. Love, you’ve got to be more careful. You know Fitz is out for you.”

I snorted. “So are murderers and rapists and thieves and somehow, they haven’t stopped me yet.”

“This is different,” he said pointedly. “Where were you even going?”

“I don’t know.” My words sounded weak. “I wanted to talk to Leila, but she and my aunt were MIA. So I just left. I wasn’t even looking for them this time.”

“That’s what always happens. Whenever you stop looking, you find what you’re looking for.”

I peered at him, watching as he checked to see if his nose was still bleeding. “Is that your way of telling me to give up my search?”

Tracks smiled a little. “If only it were that easy. No, it’s not, because I know you’d never listen.” He glanced at the handkerchief, sighed, and then chucked it away. “Come on. I’ll take you home. You can confront Callaghan tomorrow if you so choose.”

I rolled my eyes but obliged him again, only because I felt really guilty for having socked him in the nose. I let him fly me out of town—keeping my discomfort to myself—until he set me down at the corner of Egan Street so we could walk the rest of the way.

“Tracks, do you think I’m being stupid?” I asked him. “Or unreasonable or whatever? Do you think it’s dumb what I’m trying to do?”

He pondered for a moment. “Do I think it’s dumb that you want answers? No, I don’t. That’s a basic fact of human nature, love. Do I think you’re going about it the wrong way? That’s up for debate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly given Leila a chance, have you? You’ve just come to me with every question you’ve had or just assumed Leila wouldn’t answer.”

“So?”

“So…that doesn’t seem very fair, does it?”

“Oh, right. I forgot you were the lord of fairness,” I quipped dryly, glad when he smiled.

“You know what I mean, love. You’ve only just found out Faeries exist and now you expect answers to every question when you want them. That’s just not how things work. I don’t know any more than you do about why your brother kept Faeryland from you, but I’m sure he had his reasons. Just as Leila does now. You’ve got to give her a chance to come to you.”

“She’s had chances, Tracks. A few of them. She thinks she’s doing what Aaron would’ve wanted. She thinks she’s protecting me.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

“She’s wrong. It’s not what Aaron would’ve wanted. Plus, I don’t need protection.”

“Don’t you?”

I paused and turned to him. “Why? Because I’m…mortal?”

Tracks laughed then—a quiet, low laugh that tickled my curiosity.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t understand you, Leslie. Nothing makes you happy.”

I shrugged. “I’m a difficult person. Sue me.”

“I would think you’d want to be kept from all this. That you’d want to remember the brother you knew.”

“That’s just it, Tracks. Aaron’s why I want to know everything. The brother I knew isn’t the same brother who died. He’d changed. And he never told me. When I first found out you were a Faery, I was curious. But the moment I found out Aaron knew about your world…” I sighed. “I got desperate. I love him so much, Tracks. I just…I want to know who I’m mourning for. I want to know who to miss.”

Tracks took me by the shoulders and looked down at me through those stupid sunglasses of his. One day, I’d ask him what they were all about.

“Leslie, you know who to miss. The same person you’ve been missing. Just because he didn’t tell you part of his life doesn’t mean he didn’t love you with all his heart. That can never change.”

I dropped my hands over his. “Everything’s changed, Tracks. Everything.”

He let the subject drop and didn’t follow when I walked away, passing the last couple houses before the cottage on my own. I went inside without a single glance back at him.

I slept in the next morning. “Slept” in as in woke up at nine and stayed in bed until almost eleven. I’d decided sometime during those two hours that I still needed to take Tracks’ advice and talk to Leila, but I wasn’t sure how to do it. Partially because all I wanted to do was yell at her, and partially because the idea of being all buddy-buddy made me nauseous. But I was running out of options so I had to do something.

I got a text from her sometime around eleven thirty asking me if I was up and wanted to go out for breakfast with her. Seeing it as the best shot I’d get, I responded with a “K” and quickly showered and dressed.

“All set?” Leila asked when I came down the steps to find her and Brenna together on the couch.

I nodded, tucking my anger away until we were alone. “Yep. Ready when you are.”

“Brilliant.” She leaned over and pecked Brenna on the cheek, then bounded to her feet. “I thought we’d go into Galway today,” she told me as I followed her out of the house and over to the narrow drive where the cars sat. I lifted a brow. I wondered silently how often the cars saw road as I climbed in on the wrong side of her bright red Accord.

“There’s a lovely little bakery I took Aaron to while he was here. I thought ye might like to see it.”

The mention of Aaron caught me off guard. I would’ve thought Leila wouldn’t have dared mention him after our…disagreement at the hospital. But Leila was either incredibly oblivious or just very, very stupid. She spoke as though not a single ill word had passed between us, like I hadn’t wanted to tear into her the day before.

I realized suddenly she was waiting for a response so I just nodded, forced myself to play nice. I needed info from her, and I wouldn’t get it if I declined her “generous” offer. “That’s fine.”

Leila smiled, put the car in reverse, and pulled out of the drive.

I wasn’t sure what to say as she made her way toward the familiar dirt road, the main road in baby Calaway. She went the opposite direction from the railroad, heading alongside the big, looming manor that stood at the edge of the Bay.

I gazed at it for a moment, trying to picture who might live inside. The new king and queen of the Faeries perhaps? I quipped silently.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?” Leila commented and I glanced over to see her nodding toward the Bay.

“I guess.” I pointed to the manor. “You said when I first got here you didn’t like the people who lived there. Who are they?”

Leila pursed her lips in hesitation. I gave her a look. Was she really gonna turn this into another secret too?

At length, she answered, her eyes never leaving the manor. “The Bradfords,” she said at last, her words clipped.

“The Bradfords,” I repeated, not understanding what was so hard about telling me that. “Okay… And who are the Bradfords?”

Leila sighed. “A very old family. The manor belonged to the eldest of the Bradford siblings, and he lived there with his wife and son until an accident left the lad an orphan. Luke, is his name.”

“Is?”

Leila nodded. “He still lives there with his uncle and two cousins. He inherited the manor when he was only three so his uncle, middle brother of the husband, moved in along with the children of the youngest Bradford, his sister. Their parents died in the same accident that took Luke’s.”

I looked at her, confused. “So, the uncle inherited all three kids after the accident?”

Leila nodded.

“And they all still live there now?”

She shrugged. “They’re only in their twenties,” she said nonchalantly. “The accident only happened a little over fifteen years ago. I know Luke is about nineteen—the other two I’m not certain.”

I was less interested in their ages, and more interested in how Leila had learned the life history of these people. I didn’t make a habit of learning the childhood secrets of the people I disliked.

“Then…how come when I first asked about the house, you told me it wasn’t worth my time? You made it sound like a group of criminals lived there.”

Leila turned her attention back to the road and shrugged. “They might as well be.”

“What? Why?”

“A bunch of spoiled, rich kids if ye ask me. Loaded down with money from the Bradford company and from their parents’ life insurance. Not worth a cent of your time, that’s mighty certain.”

I looked at Leila, horrified at her words. “That’s totally callous.”

She glanced over. “Sorry?”

“‘Loaded down with money from their dead folks’ life insurance?’” I gaped. “Leila, that’s an awful thing to say! What, you think they wanted to lose their parents? You think they were praying for them to die?”

Leila winced. “Leslie, that’s not what I meant—”

“That’s what you said! God, Leila—and you wonder why I’m mad at you! The things that come out of your mouth…”

“Wait, mad at me? What are ye mad at me for, Leslie?”

I scoffed. “Oh, now that’s rich, Leila. Pull over,” I ordered.

“What?”

“Pull over. Now."

Stunned, Leila quickly obliged, putting the car in PARK the moment she was on the side of the road. I reached over and yanked the keys out of the ignition.

“Oi!”

“No!” I snapped when she reached for them. “No, it’s time we had this out, Leila.”

“What? Had what out?” she demanded, still trying to grab the keys from me.

“Every single thing you know about Faeries.”

That stopped her cold.

It seemed like an eternity that Leila just sat there, staring at me with her eyes wide. Apparently, when I’d told her the other day that I had overheard what had happened at the church, she hadn’t thought I’d meant I’d overheard all of it.

“Leslie, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmured at last.

“Yes, you do,” I said quietly. “I saw Fitz; we had a little chat ourselves. I know about the Faeries. And I know Aaron knew too. Why won’t you just be honest with me, Leila?”

But her face had gone pale. “Wait, you spoke to Fitz? When?”

I shrugged. “Yesterday. And it wasn’t so much a conversation as a confrontation.”

“About?”

I shook my head. “Oh no. Not until I get some answers.” I tucked the keys into my back pocket and turned in my seat to face her, unclasping the seatbelt as I did. “I’m trying to be very patient with you right now, Leila, and believe me when I say it’s very, very hard. Don’t make it any harder. Now what do you know about the Faeries?”

“N—”

"Leila!”

She closed her eyes and sat back in her seat. I couldn’t read the expression on her face but I could tell she was searching for a way out of this. Well, she wouldn’t get one from me. Not after I’d come this far.

“What do you know?” she said at length, opening her eyes to meet mine again.

“Not a lot.”

“Tell me.”

I didn’t want to. I could see the wheels turning in her head. Telling her felt like an escape that would enable her to confirm what I knew, not add to it. But I also felt that if I didn’t meet her halfway, she’d use it to keep the rest from me. An eye for an eye, as the saying went. So, for once, I swallowed my pride and obliged.

“I only know what I’ve seen,” I told her carefully. “Fitz’s wings for one.” I was not bringing Tracks into this. “And his friends’. The fact that for some reason, you’re telling him and the rest of the town that Aaron is still alive. I’ve no idea how he ties in, but I know you do.”

I purposely kept the castle out of the conversation. Any mention of Faeryland would lead to a discussion about how I’d come across it. And that would lead to Tracks.

She nodded. “Aye. We’re saying that,” she admitted more easily than I’d expected her to.

“Why?”

“Because it keeps you safe.”

“And why would I need to be kept safe, Leila?”

“Ye said ye spoke to Fitz; ye should know that he’s not the kindest of gentlemen.” The sarcasm was heavy in her voice. “And aye, I’ll admit he’s a Faery along with his friends.”

“And you guys? Are you Faeries?”

The look on her face was the only answer I needed. But still, I wanted to hear it out loud.

“We’re not like them, Leslie. There are a million differences.”

“Such as?”

Leila lifted her chin as though I’d insulted her. “Such as, we don’t have wings.” Her lip actually curled, a sneer that reminded me very much of Captain Hook once again.

“You don’t,” I stated flatly, not buying it for a second. “Then how can you be Faeries?”

“Leslie, there’s a lot more to the world than you realize—”

“I know. That’s why I’m trying to get you to fill in the blanks.”

My cousin took a deep breath and slowly let it out. I could practically hear her counting down from ten in her head. “No.”

I blinked, certain I had heard that wrong. “No?” I repeated.

She looked at my pleadingly. “Leslie, I understand where yer coming from, I do. And I know you believe you’ve a right to know. But Aaron didn’t tell ye for a reason and I’m not going to start just because ye’re whining.”

Okay, if she thought she was being reasonable, the condescension in her voice didn’t help her a bit. “I’m not a three year old begging for an ice cream cone before dinner,” I snapped. “I’m trying to understand what Aaron didn’t tell me and why. If you really knew where I was coming from, you’d help me.”

“I won’t lose another cousin.”

I sat back. “Then tell me what I need to know.”

She was silent.

Taking a deep breath, I tried another tactic. “Tell me about Aaron then. You owe me that. Was he a Faery too?”

Closing her eyes, she nodded.

“How?”

“Faeries aren’t like what you’ve read in the old stories,” Leila said quietly. “They’re not three inches tall; they don’t trick mortals into living with them forever; and there’s no such thing as pixie dust.” I thought of Tracks then, and our conversation—however short—about Tinker Bell. Well, that was one thing they agreed on.

“Then what are they?”

“It all depends. Fitz and his mates… Well, they’re known as the Straight Edges around here. No one but me and my friends know what they really are. To them, we’re known as the Naturalists. Their polar opposites.”

“And the difference?” I prodded, getting annoyed with her beat-around-the–bush tactics.

“They’ve got the wings. We’ve got the magic.”

My jaw dropped. Magic. The very thing Tracks had warned me was pertinent to the existence of the castle. But… I had a very strong feeling materialization and spatial teasing tricks were completely different from what Leila was talking about. Illusion was a magic I could process—it was human. What type of magic was Leila getting at?

Leila smiled faintly. “I know; ye probably don’t believe me,” she said before I could speak. “Which is just fine; it’s better that way. But there’s your difference, Leslie. That’s what separates me and Lincoln and Owen and Chris from Fitz and Kruge and Blitz.”

“That’s only three,” I said absently, my mind still on the magic. “I saw four.”

She shrugged. “Never learned the last one’s name.”

“Leila, when you say magic…what do you mean exactly?”

Leila shrugged. “Let’s just say it’s not Harry Potter.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning no wands, spells, or potions.”

“Leila!”

“Leslie, I’ve already told ye more than I should’ve. This isn’t something ye need to get involved in. You just need to stay back and blend into the background; keep yerself off Fitz’s radar.”

Her words were like a slap in the face. “What, like a patsy?” I shook my head. “If that’s what you take me for, Leila, you’ve got another thing coming. My brother was involved in all this; I’m not just going to walk away because you tell me it’s dangerous!”

“Leslie, you have no idea what Aaron was involved in. The wings and the magic, it’s beyond you. Without Aaron around, there’s nothing you can do.”

I paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s why we’re telling everyone he’s still alive; so Fitz will think he is. As long as Fitz and the others believe Aaron’s still out there, ye’re safe.”

"Why?”

“They were…afraid of Aaron, for lack of a better term. They knew better than to mess with him. He was strong. Powerful.” She smiled a little. “He took after my da.” She sighed. “He had the magic, Leslie. You don’t. You can’t do anything even if you wanted to. You’re human.”

“’He had the magic.’” So that was how he’d done it. How Aaron had found Faeryland all on his own. But…what did that mean? How did Aaron have magic? How had I grown up with him and never even noticed? Hell, how had he been able to hide it from me?

“It came from yer mum’s side,” Leila admitted, anticipating what I was thinking.

I tore my gaze back from where it had drifted to the bay and looked at her.

“Yer mum and my da. They had the blood,” she went on. “Aaron was the firstborn so the magic went to him, just as the magic went to my father, the eldest Callaghan.” She shrugged. “That’s why Aaron came here last year. To learn and understand. Aunt Meara told him things she never told you so he’d be prepared.”

Leila reached out and laid a hand over mine. I stared at it blindly. “He wanted to bring you here this summer so he could share the history with you, without telling you about the magic. He wanted to give you part of who he was.” She took a deep breath. “But he specifically told me I could never mention Faeries while you were here. It was the only favor he’d ever asked of me. So I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

I gazed at our hands another moment before carefully taking mine back. “Things have changed, Leila. You no longer had the right to keep all this from me.”

“He asked me to.”

“That was when he was alive. When he could’ve filled me in. He would’ve, Leila,” I told her when she opened her mouth. “I know my brother; when the time was right, he would’ve told me everything.”

“That time was up to him. Not me.”

"He’s dead.” The words were a knife to the chest. “He’s dead; he no longer has any say in anything. You knew why I came here, Leila. You knew what I was—am—going through. Don’t you think maybe I needed that piece of my brother? The piece I never knew?”

Leila cocked her head at me, giving me her full attention. “And would ye have believed me? If I’d told ye I was a Faery, your brother a Faery, and we were in the middle of a long-standing Faery feud, would ye have listened? Would ye have believed if I told ye to stay away from the men with wings, because they were blokes who wanted ye dead?” She lifted her chin. “Would ye have believed me if I told ye that you didn’t have the magic to fight back?”

Leila shook her head. “Ye wouldn’t have, Leslie and you know it. I hardly think ye’d have believed Aaron but that’s not for me to say. We were both trying to protect you, Leslie, in different ways. Your life and your sanity. I’m sorry if ye don’t agree with our methods but that doesn’t change my mind. Ye’re out of this. Ye’re not getting any more involved.”

I turned away, pulling her car keys out of my back pocket. I held them out to her, grasping her hand in mine when she reached to take them. The engine key split open a cut at the center of my palm.

“You’re right, Leila. I wouldn’t have believed you. Not for a second. Even when I was a kid and Ma would tell me the old Irish Faery tales, they were nothing but stories to put me to sleep. I was never one to have my head in the clouds.

“But if Aaron had told me, I never would’ve doubted him. And no matter what you say, I am involved in this. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.” Without another word, I released her hand and climbed out of the car.

“Leslie!” she called, rolling down the window. “Leslie, where are ye going?”

I didn’t turn back. Where was I going? I was going to find out what else my brother had hidden from me. Starting with everything Ma and Dad hadn’t said.