my heart beat faster under that look.
Deliberately, I reached up and snatched the paper from her fingers. Releasing her, I turned my back on the girl, scanning the note. It was short, messy and confirmed my worst suspicions.
They’re here! Gotta run. If you find this, tell my folks not to worry. Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to drag you into this. —Todd.
I crumpled the note and shoved it into my jeans pocket. What did he expect me to do now? Go to his parents, tell them a bunch of creepy invisible faeries were out to get their son? I’d get thrown into the loony bin for sure.
I felt Kenzie’s eyes on my back and wondered how much of the note she’d seen. Had she read anything in that split second it had taken me to get across the table?
“It sounds like your friend is in trouble,” Kenzie murmured. Well, that answered that question. All of it, apparently.
“He’s not my friend,” I replied, not turning around. “And you shouldn’t get involved. This is none of your business.”
“The hell it’s not,” she shot back. “If someone is in trouble, we have to do something. Who’s after him? Why doesn’t he just go to the police?”
“The police can’t help.” I finally turned to face her. “Not with this. Besides, what would you tell them? We don’t even know what’s going on. All we have is a note.”
“Well, shouldn’t we at least see if he made it home okay?”
I sighed, rubbing my scalp. “I don’t know where he lives,” I said, feeling slightly guilty that I knew so little. “I don’t have his phone number. I don’t even know his last name.”
But Kenzie sighed. “Boys,” she muttered, and pulled out her phone. “His last name is Wyndham, I think. Todd Wyndham. He has a couple of classes with me.” She fiddled with her phone without looking up. “Just a second. I’ll Google it.”
I tried to stay calm while she looked it up, though I couldn’t stop scanning the room for hidden enemies. What were these transparent, ghostlike fey, and why had I not seen them before? What did they want with Todd? I remembered the piskie’s limp body, an empty, lifeless husk before it disappeared, and shivered. Whatever they were, they were dangerous, and I needed to find the half-breed before they did the same to him. I owed him that, for not being there like I promised.
“Got it,” Kenzie announced. “Or, at least, I have his house number.” Glancing up from her phone, she looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “So, do you want to call them or should I?”
I dug out my phone. “I’ll do it,” I said, dreading the task but knowing I had to finish what I started.
She recited a string of numbers, and I punched them into my phone. Putting it to my ear, I listened to it ring once, twice, and on the third, someone picked up.
“Wyndham residence,” said a woman’s voice. I swallowed.
“Um, yeah. I’m a … friend of Todd’s,” I said haltingly. “Is he home?”
“No, he isn’t back from school yet,” continued the voice on the other end. “Do you want me to give him a message?”
“Uh, no. I was … um … hoping to catch him later today so we could … hang.” I winced at how lame I sounded, and Kenzie giggled. I frowned at her. “Do you know his cell phone number?” I added as an afterthought.
“Yes, I have his number.” Now the woman sounded suspicious. “Why do you want to know? Who is this?” she continued sharply, and I winced. “Are you one of those boys he keeps talking about? You think I don’t notice when he comes home with bruises and black eyes? Do you think it’s funny, picking on someone smaller then you? What’s your name?”
I was tempted to hang up, but that would make me look even more suspicious, and it would get me no closer to Todd. I wondered if he’d even told her that he spent the night at my house. “My name is Ethan Chase,” I said in what I hoped was a calm, reasonable voice. “I’m just … a friend. Todd stayed at my place last night, during the storm.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t tell if Todd’s mother was appeased or not, but after a moment, she sighed. “Then, I’m sorry. Todd doesn’t have many friends, none that have called the house, anyway. I didn’t mean to snap at you, Ethan.”
“It’s fine,” I mumbled, embarrassed. I’m used to it.
“One moment,” she continued, and her voice grew fainter as she put the phone down. “I have his number on the fridge. Just a second.”
A minute later, I thanked Todd’s mom and hung up, relieved to have that over with. “Well?” asked Kenzie, watching expectantly. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah.”
She waited a moment longer, then bounced impatiently. “Are you going to call him, then?”
“I’m getting to it.” Truthfully, I didn’t want to. What if he was perfectly fine, and that note was just a prank, revenge for some imagined slight? What if he was halfway home, laughing at how he pulled a fast one on the stupid human? Todd was half-phouka, a faery notorious for their mischievous nature and love of chaos. This could be a great, elaborate joke, and if I called him, he would have the last laugh.
Deep down, though, I knew those were just excuses. I hadn’t imagined that creepy faery, or the dead piskie. Todd wasn’t pretending to be terrified. Something was happening, something bad, and he was right in the middle of it.
And I didn’t want to be drawn in.
Too late now, I suppose. Pressing in Todd’s number, I put the phone to my ear and held my breath.
One ring.
Two rings.
Thr—
The phone abruptly cut off, going dead without sending me to voice mail. A second later, the dial tone droned in my ear.
“What happened?” Kenzie asked as I lowered my hand. “Is Todd all right?”
“No,” I muttered, looking down at the phone, and the end call button at the bottom of the screen. “He’s not.”
I went home after that, having convinced Kenzie that there was nothing we could do for Todd right then. She was stubborn, refusing to believe me, wanting to call the police. I told her not to jump to conclusions as we didn’t exactly know what was going on. Todd could’ve turned off his phone. He could be on his way home and was just running late. We didn’t have enough evidence to start calling the authorities. Eventually, she caved, but I had the feeling she wouldn’t let it go for long. I just hoped she wouldn’t do anything that would attract Their attention. Hanging around me was bad enough.
Back home, I went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. Sitting at my desk, I opened the first drawer, reached all the way to the back, and pulled out the long, thin envelope inside.
Leaning back in the chair, I stared at it for a long while. The paper was wrinkled and brittle now, yellow with age, and smelled of old newspapers. It had one word written across the front:
