Storm Born. Richelle Mead

smell. Despite my exhaustion, however, I couldn’t fall asleep. It was one of life’s ironies. While awake, I could slide into a trance with the snap of a finger. My spirit could leave my body and travel to other worlds. Yet, for whatever reason, sleep was more elusive. Doctors had recommended a number of sedatives, but I hated to use them. Drugs and alcohol bound the spirit to this world, and while I did indulge occasionally, I generally liked being ready to slip over at a moment’s notice.

      Tonight I suspected my insomnia had something to do with a teenage girl…. But no. I couldn’t think about that, not yet. Not until I spoke with the brother.

      Sighing, needing something else to ponder, I rolled over and stared at my ceiling, at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. I started counting them, as I had so many other restless nights. There were exactly thirty-three of them, just like last time. Still, it never hurt to check.

      Chapter Two

      Wil Delaney was in his early twenties, with straw-yellow hair in need of a haircut. He had pasty white skin and wore wire-rimmed glasses. When I showed up at his house the next morning, he had to undo about twenty locks before he could open the door, and even then, he would only peek out with the security chain in place.

      “Yes?” he asked suspiciously.

      I put on my business face. “I’m Odile. Lara set up our appointment?”

      He studied me. “You’re younger than I thought you’d be.” A moment later, he closed the door and undid the chain. The door opened again, and he ushered me inside.

      I glanced around as I entered, taking in stacks and stacks of books and newspapers—and a definite lack of light. “Kind of dark in here.”

      “Can’t open the blinds,” he explained. “You never know who’ll be watching.”

      “Oh. Well. What about the lights?”

      He shook his head. “You’d be amazed how much radiation lights and other electrical devices emit. It’s what’s making cancer run rampant in our society.”

      “Oh.”

      We sat at his kitchen table, and he explained to me why he thought his sister had been abducted by the gentry. I had a hard time concealing my skepticism. It wasn’t like this kind of thing was unheard of, but I was starting to pick up on Lara’s “schizo” vibe. It was highly possible that the gentry could simply have been a figment of his imagination.

      “This is her.” He brought me a five-by-seven picture showing him and a pretty girl leaning into each other against a grassy backdrop. “Taken just before the abduction.”

      “She’s cute. And young. Does she…did she…live with you?”

      He nodded. “Our parents died about five years ago. I got custody of her. Not much different than how it used to be.”

      “What do you mean?”

      Bitterness crossed that neurotic face, an odd juxtaposition. “Our dad was always off on some business trip, and our mom kept sleeping around on him. So it’s always just sort of been Jasmine and me.”

      “And what makes you think she was taken by gen—fairies?”

      “The timing,” he explained. “It happened on Halloween. Samhain Eve. That’s one of the biggest nights for abductions and hauntings, you know. Data supports it. The walls between the worlds open.”

      He sounded like he was reciting from a textbook. Or the Internet. Sometimes I thought Internet access was like putting guns in the hands of toddlers. I tried not to roll my eyes as he rambled. I didn’t really need a layman explaining remedial information to me.

      “Yeah, I know all that. But a lot of scary people—humans—roam around on Halloween too. And lots of other times. I don’t suppose you reported it to the police?”

      “I did. They weren’t able to turn up anything, not that I really needed them. I knew what had happened because of the location. The place she disappeared. That was what made me know fairies did it.”

      “Where?”

      “This one park. She was at a party with some kids from school. They had a bonfire in the woods, and they saw her wander off. The police traced her tracks to this clearing, and then they just stopped. And you know what was there?” He gave me a dramatic look, evidently ready to impress me. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking the obvious question, so he answered it for me. “A fairy ring. A perfect circle of flowers growing in the grass.”

      “It happens. Flowers do that.”

      He shot up from the table, incredulity all over his face. “You don’t believe me!”

      I worked hard to keep my face as blank as a new canvas. You could have painted a picture on it.

      “It’s not that I don’t believe what you’re describing, but there are a lot more mundane explanations. A girl alone in the woods could have been abducted by any number of things—or people.”

      “They said you were the best,” he told me, like it was some kind of argument. “They said you kick paranormal ass all the time. You’re the real deal.”

      “What I can or can’t do isn’t relevant. I need to make sure we’re on the right track. You’re asking me to cross physically into the Otherworld. I almost never do that. It’s dangerous.”

      Wil sat back down, face desperate. “Look, I’ll do anything at all. I can’t let her stay there with those—with those things. Name your price. I can pay anything you want.”

      I glanced around curiously, taking in the books on UFOs and Bigfoot. “Uh…what exactly do you do for a living?”

      “I run a blog.”

      I waited for more, but apparently that was it. Somehow I suspected that generated less money than even Tim made. Hmphf. Bloggers. I didn’t get why everyone and their brother thought the world wanted to read their thoughts on…well, nothing. If I wanted to be subjected to meaningless blather, I’d watch reality television.

      He was still looking at me pleadingly, with big blue puppy dog eyes. I nearly groaned. When had I grown so soft? Didn’t I want people to think of me as some cold and calculating shamanic mercenary? I’d vanquished a keres yesterday. Why was this sob story getting to me?

      It was actually because of the keres, I realized. That stupid sexual suggestion had been so revolting to me that I just couldn’t erase the image of little Jasmine Delaney being some gentry’s plaything. Because that’s what she would be, though I’d never tell Wil that. The gentry liked human women. A lot.

      “Can you take me to the park she disappeared from?” I asked at last. “I’ll get a better sense if fairies really were involved.”

      Of course, it actually turned out that I took him because I quickly decided I wasn’t going to let him drive me anywhere. Having him as a passenger taxed me enough. He spent the first half of the ride slathering some really thick sunscreen all over him. I guess you had to take precautions when you lived in a cave and finally emerged into the light.

      “Skin cancer’s on the rise,” he explained. “Especially with the depletion of the ozone layer. Tanning salons are killing people. No one should go outside without some kind of protection—especially here.”

      That I actually agreed with. “Yeah. I wear sunscreen too.”

      He eyed my light tan askance. “Are you sure?”

      “Well, hey, it’s Arizona. Hard not to get some sun. I mean, sometimes I walk to the mailbox without sunscreen, but most of the time I try to put it on.”

      “‘Try,’” he scoffed. “Does it protect against UVB rays?”

      “Um, I don’t know. I mean, I guess. I never burn. It smells pretty good too.”

      “Not good enough. Most