Behind the bleachers, I stopped. A fence separated the field from a line of trees on the other side, so it was cool and shady here. I wished I had my knife. Something sharp, metal and lethal between me and whatever was coming my way. But I’d been caught with a knife before, and it had gotten me in a lot of trouble, so I’d left it at home.

Putting my back to the fence, I waited.

Something stepped around the bleachers, or rather, shimmered around the bleachers, barely visible in the sun. And even though it was a bright fall afternoon, with enough sunlight to melt away the chill, I suddenly felt cold. Sluggish. Like my thoughts and emotions were slowly being drained, leaving behind an empty shell.

Shivering, I gazed stonily at the thing hovering a few feet away. It was unlike any faery I’d seen before. Not a nymph, a sidhe, a boggart, a dryad, anything I recognized. Not to say I was an expert on the different types of faeries, but I’d seen more than most people, and this one was just…weird.

It was shorter than me by nearly a foot and so thin it didn’t seem possible that its legs could hold it up. In fact, its legs ended in needle-sharp tips, so it looked as if it was walking on toothpicks instead of feet. Its face was hatchet thin, and its fingers were those same thin points, as if it could poke its nail right through your skull. The skeletons of what used to be wings protruded from its bony shoulders, broken and shattered, and it hovered a few inches off the ground, as if the earth itself didn’t want to touch it.

For a few seconds, we just stared at each other.

“All right,” I said in an even voice, as the creepy fey floated there, still watching me. “You followed me out here—you obviously wanted to see me. What the hell do you want?”

Its eyes, huge and multifaceted like an insect’s, blinked slowly. I saw myself reflected a hundred times in its gaze. Its razor slit of a mouth opened, and it breathed:

“I bring a warning, Ethan Chase.”

I resisted the urge to cringe. There was something very…wrong…about this creature. It didn’t belong here, in the real world. The faeries I had seen, even the Iron fey, were still a part of reality, sliding back and forth between this realm and the Nevernever. This thing…it was as if its body was out of sync with the rest of world, the way it flickered and blurred, as if it wasn’t quite there. Wasn’t quite solid.

The faery raised one long, bony finger and pointed at me.

“Do not interfere,” it whispered. “Do not become involved in what will soon happen around you. This is not your fight. We seek no trouble with the Iron Court. But if you meddle in our affairs, human, you put those you care about at risk.”

“Your affairs? What are you?” My voice came out raspier than I wanted it to. “I’m guessing you’re not from the Seelie or Unseelie Courts.”

The faery’s slitted mouth might’ve twitched into a smile.

“We are nothing. We are forgotten. No one remembers our names, that we ever existed. You should do the same, human.”

“Uh-huh. So, you make a point of making certain I know you’re there, of tracking me down and threatening my family, to tell me I should forget about you.”

The faery drew back a step, gliding over the ground. “A warning,” it said again and tossed something at my feet, something small and gray. “This is what will happen to those who interfere,” it whispered. “Our return has just begun.”

I crouched, still keeping a wary eye on the faery, and spared a glance at what lay on the ground.

A piskie. The same one I’d seen earlier that day with Todd, I was sure of it. But its skin was a dull, faded gray, as if all the color had been sucked out of it. Gently, I reached down and picked it up, cradling it in my palm. It rolled over and blinked, huge eyes empty and staring. It was still alive, but even as I watched, the faery’s tiny body rippled and then…blew away. Like mist in the breeze. Leaving behind nothing at all.

My insides felt cold. I’d seen faeries die—they turned into leaves, branches, flowers, insects, dirt, and sometimes they did just vanish. But never like this. “What did you do to it?” I demanded, surging back to my feet.

The thing didn’t answer. It shimmered again, going transparent, as if it, too, were in danger of blowing away on the wind. Raising its hands, it gazed at its fingers, watching as they flickered like a bad television channel.

“Not enough,” it whispered, shaking its head. “Never enough. Still, it is something. That you can see me, talk to me. It is a start. Perhaps the half-blood will be stronger.”

It drifted back. “We will be watching you, Ethan Chase,” it warned, and suddenly turned, as if glimpsing something off to the side. “You do not want even more people hurt because of you.”

More people? Oh, no, I thought, as it dawned on me what the faery was implying. The dead Thistle, the “half-blood” it mentioned. Todd. “Hey!” I snapped, striding forward. “Hold it right there. What are you?”

The faery smiled, rippled in the sunlight and drifted away, over the fence and out of sight. I would’ve given chase, but the sound of movement behind the bleachers caught my attention, and I turned.

Kenzie stood beside the benches, a notepad in one hand, staring at me. From the look on her face, she’d heard every word.

Chapter Six

Vanished

I ignored Kenzie and strode quickly across the football field, not looking back.

“Hey!” Kenzie cried, scrambling after me.

My mind was spinning. Todd was right, it whispered. Something was after him. Damn, what was that thing? I’ve never seen anything like it before.

My chest felt tight. It was happening again. It didn’t matter what that thing was, the damned faeries were out to ruin my life and hurt everyone around me. I had to find Todd, warn him. I just hoped that he was okay; the half-breed might be annoying and ignorant, but he shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.

“Ethan! Just a second! Will you please hold up?” Kenzie put on a burst of speed as we reached the edge of the field, blocking my path. “Will you tell me what’s going on? I heard voices, but I didn’t see anyone else. Was someone threatening you?” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not into anything illegal, are you?”

“Kenzie, get out of here,” I snapped. The creepy faery could still be watching us. Or creeping closer to Todd. I had to get away from her, now. “Just leave me alone, okay? I’m not doing the damn interview. I don’t give a crap about what you or this school or anyone else thinks of me. Put that in your article.”

Her eyes flashed. “The parking lot is the other way, tough guy. Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

“Then you won’t mind if I come along.”

“You’re not coming.”

“Why not?”

I swore. She didn’t move, and my sense of urgency flared. “I don’t have time for this,” I growled, and brushed past her, sprinting down the hall toward the library. The girl followed, of course, but I wasn’t thinking about her anymore. If that faery freak got close to Todd, if it did something to him like it had the piskie, it would be my fault. Again.

The librarian gave me the evil eye as I burst through the library doors, followed closely by the girl. “Slow down, you two,” she barked as we passed the desk. Kenzie murmured an apology, but I ignored her, striding toward the back, searching for the half-breed in the aisles. Empty, empty, a couple making out in the history section, empty. My unease grew. Where was he?

“What are we looking for?” Kenzie whispered at my back.

I turned, ready to tell her to get lost, futile as it might be, when something under the window caught my eye.

Todd’s jacket. Lying in a crumpled heap beneath the sill. I stared at it, trying to find an explanation as to why he would leave it behind. Maybe he just forgot it. Maybe someone stole it as a prank and ditched it here. A cold breeze whispered through the window, ruffling my clothes and hair. It was the only open window in the room.

Kenzie followed my gaze, frowned, then walked forward and picked up the jacket. As she did, something white fell out of the pocket and fluttered to the floor. A note, written on a torn half sheet of paper. I lunged forward to grab it, but Kenzie had already snatched it up.

“Hey,” I said sharply, holding out a hand. “Give me that.”

She dodged, holding the paper out of reach. Defiance danced in her eyes. “I don’t see your name on it.”

“It was for me,” I insisted, stalking forward. She leaped away, putting a long table between us, and my temper flared. “Dammit, I’m not playing this game,” I growled, keeping my voice down so the librarian wouldn’t come stalking toward us. “Hand it over, now.”

Kenzie narrowed her eyes. “Why so secretive, tough guy?” she asked, deftly maneuvering around the table, keeping the same distance between us. “Are these the coordinates for a drug deal or something?”

“What?” I grabbed for her, but she slid out of reach. “Of course not. I’m not into that crap.”

“A letter from a secret admirer, then?”

“No,” I snapped, and stopped edging around the table. This was ridiculous. Were we back in the third grade? I eyed her across the table, judging the distance between us. “It’s not a love letter,” I said, silently fuming. “It’s not even from a girl.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then you won’t mind if I read it,” she said and flipped open the note.

As soon as her attention left me, I leaped over the table and slid across the surface, grabbing her arm as I landed on the other side. She yelped in surprise and tried to jerk back, unsuccessfully. Her wrist was slender and delicate, and fit easily into my grasp.

For a second, we glared at each other. I could see my scowling, angry reflection in her eyes. Kenzie stared back, a slight smirk on her lips, as if this newest predicament amused her.

“What now, tough guy?” She raised a slender eyebrow. And, for some reason, my heart beat faster under that look.