Unravelled. Gena Showalter

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      A chuckle rumbled from the fairy, almost like a thrum of a harp. “Hardly. You’re…somewhere else.”

      He wished he could take comfort from that. “Somewhere else?” When everything looked the same? “Okay. Where am I? How’d I get here?” He plowed his fingers through his hair. “What’s going on? ”

      Aden, Elijah said, and there was a warning in his tone. I have a bad feeling about this.

      Dread instantly filled him. Elijah’s bad feelings were, well, bad.

      “So many questions.” The man tsked. He waved to the chair at the desk. “Sit, please, and I will endeavor to answer you. After you answer me, of course.”

      What should have been a simple request struck Aden as a threat. And with Elijah’s wariness, he suspected a fight would soon break out. He did a weapons check. He had nothing on him, but there were knives hidden in his boots. Boots he wasn’t wearing and might not be able to touch. Boots that were…tucked neatly beside the bed, he saw.

      “Sit, Aden.” Two words, both layered with authority.

      This time Aden sat. Without going for those blades. He didn’t want to play his (potential) ace unless absolutely necessary.

      Blood will run before this meeting ends, Elijah said.

      Ours? Caleb asked with annoyance and a hint of fear. ‘Cause I like ours and don’t want to give up a single drop.

      “My name is Mr. Thomas,” the man said before Elijah could respond, walking forward and stopping only a few feet away from Aden’s chair. He anchored his hands behind his back and braced his legs apart. A war stance.

      Aden knew it well. He’d stood that way many times—just before launching himself at the person threatening him. Concentrate. The plain, ordinary name didn’t fit the man’s smooth features in any way, and had to be an alias. If it wasn’t, Aden would plant a big, fat wet one right on his lips.

      “You want answers,” he said, wondering, About what? “Then you’ll have to tell me what I want to know. First. How are we here but not here? How am I alive but invisible?”

      There were several beats of heavy silence. At first he thought Thomas meant to strike him for using his own tactics against him. With every second that passed, fury grew in those blue eyes. Fury and indignation.

      Finally, though, the fairy said, “Your people would call this place another dimension, though it is the true realm of the Fae.” Despite his expression, his words were calmly stated.

      Fae had to mean fairy. And another…dimension? Was that even possible? As soon as the question hit him, he wanted to roll his eyes at his own stupidity. After everything he’d seen and done recently, anything was possible. “So, just to clarify, I’m not dead?”

      “This constant need for reassurance is tiresome, so listen carefully, because I will not repeat myself again. You are very much alive. But you are in another dimension, therefore humans cannot see or hear you.”

      If Thomas was to be believed, Aden wasn’t a ghost. He could return to Victoria, to his friends. “And you brought me here?” A croak.

      “Yes.”

      “Why?”

      Another tension-laden pause stretched between them. Clearly, getting answers was going to be like pulling teeth.

      “Because,” Thomas finally said on a sigh, “I had met all the students—but you.”

      There at the end, the fury had returned to the man’s eyes, this time blended with disgust.

      Oh, yes. Blood will run, Elijah said on a trembling breath.

      “From a knife?” Please, please don’t say from a knife. Don’t know, was the reply. Can only see the river of red.

      “What do you mean, from a knife?” Thomas demanded.

      He must not know of Aden’s reputation as the boy who always talked to “himself.” “Sorry. I wasn’t speaking to you.”

      “Then to whom were you speaking? ”

      A question he’d been asked a thousand times by a thousand different people.

      Maybe we should. Run, I mean, Caleb said, all his bravado gone. Before we bleed.

       I’m with Caleb. It’s not like we know how to fight a fairy.

      Caleb suddenly snickered, amusement momentarily obliterating distress. Fight a fairy. Do you hear yourself, Jules?

      “Quiet, please,” Aden snapped, and Thomas hissed in a breath.

      “Do not speak to me like that, little boy.”

      Rather than explain, Aden rubbed his temple to ward off the coming ache. “There was no reason for you to meet me. You won’t be tutoring me.” He couldn’t run, as Caleb had suggested. Where would he go? Plus, he wasn’t anxious. Yet. He still had those blades. Maybe.

      “No.” Thomas started forward, one step, two, then paused, thoughtful. “But I will be killing you.”

      Okay. Now he was anxious. Aden leapt to his feet. If Thomas issued another threat or made another move toward him, he’d dive-bomb the boots. And if he couldn’t clasp the blades inside them, he’d run like hell, despite his lack of direction.

      “Do not even think of bolting, Haden Stone.”

      “No one calls me that.” Not since he’d inadvertently butchered his own name as a kid and called himself Aden, and everyone else had followed suit. “I killed the last guy who did. True story.”

      Far from intimidated, Thomas barked, “Sit. I answered your questions. You will now answer mine.”

      Uh, that would be a big, fat no. He wasn’t waiting around for the second death threat, he decided. The fairy’s anger level had just jacked up a notch. “Sure thing.” Aden faked left, Thomas following him, and then spun right, ducking around the tutor and swiping at the boots. His hand ghosted through the leather.

      He cursed under his breath as he sprinted for the door, not allowing himself to wallow in disappointment or fear. Only, some kind of invisible wall blocked him. He slammed into it hard and fast, the shock of impact reverberating through him and tossing him backward. Thomas was in front of him a second later, pushing him the rest of the way down and stomping one of his boots on Aden’s neck.

      Instinctively, Aden wrapped his hands around the man’s ankle and shoved. The foot remained planted.

      Bright blue eyes peered down at him, and if they’d been guns, Aden would have been blown to bits. “Several weeks ago, an electric shock split through my world, creating a doorway into yours. A doorway we cannot close. The source of that shock has been traced to this ranch. And now to you. I feel the energy wafting from you even now, tugging at me, drawing me. Even increasing СКАЧАТЬ