The Halfling (Aria Fae #1) Page 6

  I landed on my fire escape, making the metal groan beneath me, and swung off of it, landing on the one below it as expertly as I’d done the rest. I continued swinging from fire escape to fire escape until I landed lithely in the alley below.

  And I was not a second too soon.

  Sam was there. Tears were welling in her eyes, the fear rolling off of her knocking into me in waves. When she saw me, relief washed over her face before she looked over my shoulder and alarm filled her aura.

  I spun around on my heels, careful to keep Sam behind me. Two questionable-looking men were there, and they seemed slightly confused, but pleased with my arrival.

  They obviously had no idea what I was capable of.

  The taller and grosser of the two nudged his partner. “Look, Mort,” he said, grinning with black teeth. “Two for the price of one.”

  I held my hands up in my lion-tamer position, palms out. My right leg was shifted back, my body alert and ready. “You guys should really just walk away,” I said, putting all my power of persuasion into my voice. I could tell by their auras these guys were only slightly buzzed, which meant I should be able to talk them down if they were at all suggestible.

  “We don’t want trouble,” I added.

  “Listen to her,” said the shorter, fatter one. “She don’t want no trouble.”

  “Aria,” said Sam behind me, but I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head, not taking my eyes off the two men.

  “Quiet, Sam,” I said. “They’re gonna leave… Aren’t you?”

  The two grew silent a moment, considering. Then the taller one—I could tell from his aura he was the meaner of the two—shook his head, took a flask from his pocket, and took a long swig.

  The alcohol dampened my effect on him, and my jaw clenched as I realized this would probably be the second time in the same amount of days that I’d had to beat someone up in this alley.

  Tall Scumbag ran a hand over his mouth and let out a gross belch. “No, sweetheart,” he said. “I don’t think we will.” He took a step forward, running his tongue out over his lips and effectively making my skin crawl. “It ain’t everyday we come across two pretty little things like you ladies.” He nudged his friend again. “It’s been a while for me. How about you, Mort?”

  The implication here was more than pissing me off, and though I’d been trained to always attempt diplomacy first, I was just unstable enough in the moment that I was considering knocking this pervert’s teeth out just for the hell of it. It would be easy; his teeth were half rotted anyway.

  But this didn’t happen, because then the back door of my apartment building opened, and out stepped Reid. He glanced at Sam and me, and then turned his burning hazel gaze on the two would-be rapists.

  “Get out of here before I break your necks,” he said, and the deadpan, undeniably serious way Reid said this made the two men’s lips curl, but after a moment, I guess they decided it wasn’t worth it, and took to their heels.

  But not before Tall Scumbag blew me a kiss that promised I wasn’t seeing the last of him.

  Once they were gone, there was a tense silence between the three of us in the alley. Thanks to my new friend, my neighbor had just seen me leap off the side of a building.

  I turned on Sam, noticing for the first time that there was a hint of alcohol on her breath, too. Anger welled up in me hot and fast. I took her by the arm and jerked her toward the doorway in which Reid was still standing.

  His eyes were narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, for which I was grateful. Instead, he just shifted his large body sideways to let us pass. Despite my upset over the situation, I found that I was holding my breath as I passed him in the doorway, the clean, manly scent of him making it through anyway.

  “Thanks,” I said, still holding Sam by the arm. I jerked her toward the stairs, not wanting to meet Reid’s eyes.

  By the time we made it to the fourth floor, Sam was breathing hard, the stench of alcohol still coming off her breath. I shoved her a little harder than was necessary into my apartment and shut the door behind me also with a bit too much force.

  “What the hell?” I said, throwing up my hands.

  “I came to visit you,” Sam replied. “Surprise.”

  “It’s the middle of the night, Samantha.” I snapped. “And you’re drunk.”

  She flopped down on the bed, letting out a long breath. “Don’t be so judgy, dude. It was just a couple beers.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. The alcohol was making it hard to read her aura, and I was too pissed off to keep the anger out of my voice. “You’re fifteen,” I said. “You shouldn’t be drinking at all.”

  She sat up now, her eyes red and face defensive. “I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known you were just going to judge me,” she said. “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are. And as a friend, I’m telling you it’s not cool.”

  She stood, tears filling her eyes. “Fine. I’ll just leave, then.”

  I moved to block the door. “Yeah, right. You’re not going anywhere. Not until morning, and not until you’re sober.”

  “What, you gonna stop me?”

  I gave her an are-you-serious look. “You think I can’t?”

  “Of course you can,” she said, waving a finger in my face and swaying a bit on her feet. “Because you’re an alien. A ninja alien.”

  Letting out a long sigh, I took Sam gently by the shoulders and made her sit on the bed. Tears were spilling down her face now, clouding up her thick-rimmed glasses, and her face was bright red.

  “Just chill, okay?” I said. “I’ll get you some water.”

  I went over to my sink and filled a glass with water, watching Sam to make sure she didn’t try to make a break for it. She didn’t. She only sat on the edge of my bed in a position I recognized too well. Her small shoulders were slumped, her head hanging down between them. Her hands lay limply in her lap, her body language withdrawn and defeated. She couldn’t even look up me, and took the glass of water without raising her head.

  I sat down beside her, watching as tears dripped from the tip of her button nose, my anger deflating and my heart warming toward her despite her recent stupid act. I was an artist and an Empath, and I could recognize depression when I saw it.

  “I’m sorry for snapping on you,” I said. “You want to talk about it?”

  “I hate my life,” she said, still unable to look up. The words twisted at my heart. How many times had I had this exact same thought over the past month? Too many to count.

  I waited for her to continue. She was quiet for a time, then she ran a hand under her nose, soaking up the tears with her jacket sleeve. I stood and retrieved her a tissue, then reclaimed my seat beside her.

  Wiping at her face, she said, “Can I trust you, Aria? I mean, like, really trust you?”

  I placed an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah, you can.”

  She finally looked up at me, studying me with her still-red eyes. At last, she sighed. “I drink beer when I can’t take the sadness anymore. It makes it go away… Or numbs it, at least.”

  I nodded. This, I also understood. My drug of choice was adrenaline, and had I not been using it to chase away my own demons as of late? Suddenly, I felt a little crappy about judging Sam. Of course she knew her behavior was destructive. She was too intelligent not to.

  But she couldn’t help it. I understood this, too.

  “My mom died ten months ago,” she said, once again staring down at her hands. “Things have been… messed up ever since. Nothing in my life makes any sense.”

  This admission struck a chord so strongly that I felt my throat go tight and my stomach drop. Too wrapped up in her own tormented world, Sam didn’t seem to notice my subtle reaction.

  She continued on with more certainty now, as if this had opened up a floodgate. “She was attacked by a drug addict on her way to see me.” Sam wiped her nose with the tissue. “She was coming to see me at my tech competition—the one Caleb mentioned?
She died on her way there.”

  Sam fell silent a moment, and I held my peace, knowing there was more, and also too caught up in emotions to trust my voice.

  “I was so mad at her, ya know?” she said. “I was so mad at her when I peeked out of the curtain on the stage and didn’t see her in the audience. She was always working, and I’d made her promise to be there.” Her voice broke on these words, and she swallowed hard. “She was busy bleeding out on the street from a gun shot wound and I was angry at her, Aria. You believe that? She was dying and I was cursing her in my head. What kind of daughter does that?”

  Sam covered her face with her hands and began to sob again.

  “You didn’t know,” I whispered, glad when my voice came out steady. “Sam, there was no way you could’ve known.”

  Wiping at her eyes with rough movements, Sam said, “You must think I’m pathetic.”

  I shook my head. “That couldn’t be further from the truth… I lost my mother, too… A little over a month ago,” I said, surprised at my admission, but also a touch relieved by it. It felt good to tell someone. I hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about everything that had happened. Everyone from my previous life was among the community that had exiled me.

  “I’m sorry,” Sam said. “But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, does it?”

  I shook my head again. “No, it doesn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  Swallowing, I wasn’t able to form words, and now tears were pooling in my own eyes. I did my best to blink them away. I cried often when I was alone, but I hated for others to see me do it.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Sam said, sensing my confliction. “I get wanting to keep secrets.”

  And just like that, I found myself at a crossroads. I knew the rules of being a Halfling, the rules of the supernatural world. We were supposed to keep our true origins hidden from humans. I wouldn’t be beheaded, or anything, if I did tell Sam, but if Sam happened to share this information with too many others… Well, then there would be big problems.

  So the question was, could I trust my new friend Samantha Shy, or not?

  I took a deep breath, the temptation of unburdening myself too much. “Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll keep your secrets if you’ll keep mine.”

  Sam gave a small smile through her sadness. “Deal,” she said.

  And so it was.

  CHAPTER 15

  “I friggin’ knew it!”

  I laughed, glad to hear the genuine ring returning to it, and raised an eyebrow. “You knew it? You knew I was a Fae Halfling excommunicated from a secret supernatural organization?”

  Sam shook her head, her blue eyes wide with wonder behind the thick lenses of her glasses. “No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. I just mean I knew you were different. Special.”

  I looked down at my hands. We were sitting next to each other on my pullout bed, our backs against the faded paint of the wall.

  “More like a freak,” I heard myself mumble, and hated the way the words sounded so weak, so pathetic. For all my physical strength and abilities, my mind was a torment I’d never had much control over.

  “Aria, you’re not a freak,” Sam said, and I could see in her face that she meant it. “If anything, you’re freaking amazing.”

  I felt a half smile tug up one side of my mouth. “You’re not too bad yourself, Shy. Where did you learn to use computers the way you do?”

  “My mother… she was a programmer, a coder for the Cross Corporation before she died. I’m better at it than she was, though. She knew it, too.”

  I nodded, sensing this was a sensitive subject and treading carefully. “What does your dad do?”

  She snorted. “Nothing, really. Not anymore. Not since my mom. She had a large life insurance policy we didn’t know about until after. Now that money isn’t an issue for a while, my father’s stopped working, and instead spends most of the day watching television and drinking.” She swallowed. “It destroyed him. It destroyed us both. Which is why Dr. Cross’s work is so important. Grant City is turning into a place where nobody is gonna want to live.”

  “Damn,” I said. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something we could do about it.”

  Sam sighed. “From what I’ve heard, your situation isn’t much better. Your mom is gone, too, and you’ve lost everything and everyone you’ve ever known. I really don’t even know how you’re functioning right now.”

  I gave a short, humorless laugh. “I’m not. Not really.”

  “What’s it like, being what you are? Being so… different from everyone around you?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not so bad, I guess. I’m stronger, faster, have better senses than full humans. When I had my mom, and the Peace Brokers, it was easier, anyway. It’s not like I got much communication with any other Halflings, but being with the Brokers reminded me they were out there. Others like me…”

  I trailed off, the truth in the words hitting me at the same time as they were spoken.

  “Now I don’t even have a purpose.” I heard the words fall out of my mouth, and my breath caught in my chest as I absorbed them. When Sam had said that I’d lost everything, she had been right. I was an orphan, an outcast. I was a ship at sea with no destination and no anchor, should I want to find one.

  Now, I was the one fighting back tears.

  “What else can you do that’s extraordinary?” Sam asked, recognizing my drowning and throwing out a lifeline.

  Taking a deep breath and managing to keep the tears at bay, I said, “Well, I can push my will on people… sort of.”

  “Shut the fudge factory down!” she said. “You can control minds, too?”

  I smirked. “Could you say that a tiny bit louder? I think China missed it.”

  Sam giggled, slapping a hand over her mouth.

  “Not really mind control,” I answered. “More like… I make people more suggestible. They have to be somewhat inclined toward whatever I’m trying to get them to do for it to work. And drugs and alcohol shut out the ability all together. Same with Empath abilities. When someone’s under the influence, I have a hard time reading their auras.”

  “What I don’t get is how the Peace Brokers just kicked you out like that. You didn’t really do anything wrong. You were looking for answers about your missing mother, and acted quickly to save Faevian lives.” Sam paused. “All of that sounds a lot loonier said out loud, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would.”

  Silence fell for a moment, but it was comfortable, as if Sam and I had known each other for a lifetime rather than a day.

  “So you didn’t get to keep anything from your former life?” Sam asked, dragging me out of my thoughts. “Nothing to remember it by?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a long chain. On the chain hung a plain silver wedding band, and the way Sam gazed down at it revealed whom the ring had belonged to before she said it.

  “It was my mother’s. It helps sometimes to hold it when I feel like I’m starting to forget her. It’s funny how quickly we forget, you know?”

  I nodded, clenching my teeth against a burning in my eyes again. I did know. I’d had a dream last week that I couldn’t remember what my mother had looked like, and I’d awakened in a cold sweat, where I shivered and gasped and cried to myself until the sun had risen, unable to recapture sleep.

  Standing, I went over to the trunk in the corner of the room and put in the combination to the lock. Reaching inside, I removed a wooden cylinder about two inches in diameter and half a foot long. An ornate design was carved all the way around the wood, that of an ancient tree in the Fae Forest. I carried it over to the bed and reclaimed my seat beside Sam.

  “I have this,” I said, staring down at the object in my hand. I hadn’t held it for nearly a month, and now that I was, I found my pulse was racing.

  “It’s beautiful,” Sam commented. “What is it?”

  Feeling a small lift to my heart that surprised me, I looked over at Sam wi
th a half smile. “You wanna see?” I said.

  Sam clapped her hands together and bounced up and down a little on the bed. “Hell yeah, I want to see.”

  Standing from the bed, I took a deep breath and a few steps back from Sam, making sure I had enough room. Holding the cylinder of wood out before me, I mumbled a small Faevian incantation and ran my left hand over the top of the carved wood.

  As I did so, I watched the wonder fill Sam’s blue eyes, and understood it perfectly. I could still remember the first time I set eyes on the magical staff. It was, in fact, given to me on the single best day of my life, and even if I lived to be a million, I would never forget it.

  The wooden cylinder grew to the length of a staff that was the perfect size for me, the carving of the Faevian tree only growing along with it. The air around it shimmered as it did so, as if one could glimpse the Fae magic in the sturdy weapon.

  When it was at its full size, I felt a real smile forming on my lips, and did my best impression of Bruce Lee, twirling the wooden weapon expertly around my back, over my head, my shoulders. “You want a piece of me, eh?” I said, moving my lips out of sync with the words and earning a laugh from Sam.

  “Badass!” she said. “You’re a real life superhero!”

  Running my left hand over the staff and muttering another incantation, the weapon returned to its original size, and I replaced it in my trunk, reengaging the lock.

  “Nah,” I said. “To be a superhero, you have to, like, save people and shit.”

  Looking back now, I suppose I should have seen the ideas swirling around in that big brain of Sam’s, should have anticipated her leaps in logic, should have known where it was all leading just by the way her brow crinkled and her blue eyes sparkled at me.

  “But you did, though,” Sam said. “You said you saved the Fae Warriors by closing the portal the Sorceress Queen had opened. Then you saved her by doing your suggestive voodoo on her lover… right? You did all this knowing it would land you in trouble with your organization.” Her grin was nearly kissing her ears now. “You’re already a superhero… You don’t need those stupid Peace Brokers. You don’t need anyone.”