Page 41 of The Secret Keeper's Daughter

I can’t move, can’t get out of the way. Pressed against the trunk, bark digs into my body.

The cold air moves through my nose before my eyes register the black blurs entering into me. The icy cold chill runs down my nose, through my throat, and into my center. A chill spreads through my body, and I shudder. Shiver. My teeth chatter. It’s as if the temperature dropped, and it was already cold with the snow covering the ground.

I cough and gag, try to vomit out the mists.

Nothing. I try harder. Only manage to expunge the food I’d eaten earlier. Great, I need that. I shake and dance, but the mist refuses to leave. Like it wants to be part of me now.

I’m too cold to be outside, so I run. Nearly trip over the taller fae. Just as I’m about to dart inside, something catches my attention.

They’re melting into the ground, just like ice on a summer day.

This is too much. I can’t deal with this. I leap inside, slam the door behind me.

How could this have happened? I never wanted to kill anyone. Now those two fae are dead because of me. Worse, their black magic is inside of me.

It’s swirling around in there. Like the two fae are dancing and taunting me. Angry with me for taking their lives and making me pay. But that’s impossible.

Isn’t it? How would I know?

I’m going to have to ask Harek. He’s a werewolf, so surely he’s killed plenty of fae. This is probably old news to him, something he sees all the time. Do fae get more strength and magic from killing other fae? It seems if that was the case, there would be fae wars all the time. Never ending. It would be a battle to be the strongest by taking the most lives. Yet I’ve never heard anything like that.

Sure, there are plenty of power grabs. Power-hungry tyrants love to rule over everyone. Fae or human—it doesn’t matter. That’s why our establishment is where it is, walled off from the rest of the world. It’s why most humans don’t venture into the woods. But wars? Mass killings? Nothing like that.

It looks like I’m going to have to ask Harek when he gets back, and that means I’m going to have to wait for him. No running to the fae metropolis on my own.

I’m not feeling so great after killing those two fae, anyway. I may as well stick around here for a while. There’s still a little food I can eat, should my appetite return. For now, my insides feel like soup sloshing around.

I climb back onto the same bed as before, but this time I sit against the wall. I’m not going to let myself fall asleep again. I dig into my bag and pull out the one book I packed. Gunnar never wants us to have books, so I’ve only ever been able to have a few at a time. Even then, I have to tuck them into a loose floorboard. I’ve always dreamed of having an entire shelf I could fill. I’d run my fingers along the spines and smell the pages every chance I got. Maybe one day.

The sloshing gets worse as I try to read. I barely get through a few pages before I set the book down. I’m going to vomit again.

I hurry back outside and dry heave. Nothing comes, despite how gross I feel.

It’s starting to get dark, and Harek still isn’t back. What if more fae show up? I definitely don’t want to kill any more. The two I killed have completely disappeared now. I won’t have to tell Harek about this if I don’t want to. However, I can’t ignore this nausea. Not that it’s a normal stomach sickness. How could it be when a mist evaporated from two dead fae bodies and entered me through my nose?

What I need is my father. If my mother was here, she could tell me something. She clearly knew my father intimately and must know something. Known. She must’veknownsomething. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to wrap my mind around her being gone.

Crunch!

I groan. If that’s more fae, I may just surrender. Maybe they can take me to a medicine man who can tell me what’s going on then fix the problem. As unlikely as that is, I’m tempted to run toward the noise and beg whoever’s there to help me.

Footsteps.

Someone is definitely coming.

Chapter

Sixteen

My breath hitchesas I round the corner of the cabin, half-expecting to see the two dead fae resurrected and eager for revenge. That’s obviously impossible since they melted into the ground and their magic is making me sick. My stomach does seem to be settling somewhat. Hopefully all this unease will lift soon.

Crunch.

That was closer. I stop, listen.

Silence. The footsteps have stopped.

Whoever it is must be waiting for me.

---