Chapter 8

8

While I stared at the Tuesday morning sun rising in the sky, I wanted to puke with the thought of what I had to do next.

I had a plan. My plan would break the heart of the man who’d raised me. Would put distance between me and the only home I’d ever known. But at least I knew what had to be done. Now all I had to do was put my plan into motion.

True to his normal everyday routine, I heard Uncle Will shut the door to his office with a soft snick. “Tavi, I’m off for work.” His voice echoed up the staircase with a deep rumble.

“Okay.” I poked my head out of my room. “Have a nice day and I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Are you sure you can’t come in to the office for a few hours?”’ He peered up the staircase at me, apparently trying to determine if my claim of feeling sick was true or not. “I know your internship with us is coming to an end soon but we can still use you. Come on.”

He wanted to keep an eye on me, I knew. To make sure I didn’t do anything to jeopardize his arrangement.

I shook my head, and it wasn’t a stretch to look as miserable physically as I felt emotionally. There were too many things on my mind to think straight and I hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time. “Sorry, Uncle Will. This weekend has been a little stressful for me and I can’t seem to shake this headache. I’ll make it up to you,” I said, lying straight to his face. “I’ll put in extra hours tomorrow.”

He looked as though he wanted to argue further. To debate me, one of his favorite pastimes. He sighed and drew his briefcase tighter against his hip, looking dapper in his double-breasted suit coat and crisp black pants. Ready for battle.

“I do wish you felt better, Tav. I know we haven’t gotten a chance to speak since our dinner and there are certain things I want to discuss further, when you’re back to normal.” His eyes darted around without landing, fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm on the leather briefcase. Too many things on his mind as well. “Things I believe will ease a little bit of the tension I’m sure we all feel with this new dynamic.”

Tension? Nah, try disgust, nausea, dread. “I wish I felt better too,” I told him, and at least it was the truth. “I’ll make it up to you.”

The repetition did the trick.

“Sweet girl, I know you will. Come here.” Will stepped forward and opened his arms. I went down the steps willingly, leaning my head against his chest and breathing in his familiar expensive scent.

Close enough to how I remembered my father. Tears pricked my eyes. I didn’t have many memories of the man outside of a few moments of clarity. Big shoulders, boisterous laugh, and his scent. One he and his brother shared. And now Uncle Will was the only family I had left.

Was I really leaving? Could I do this?

“Take care,” I choked out. Holding him a little longer and squeezing tighter. “Have fun at work.”

William chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is a goodbye. You must really feel poorly.”

I tightened my hold again. “I do.”

“Well, get some rest.” He ran a hand over my head for a brief second. “Have Cook make you anything you like. Although I know it’s cliché, chicken soup really does help. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Thank you for everything.”

He kissed my hair and walked out the front door like any normal day. Except it wasn’t a normal day, not for me, and once I followed through with my plan, things between us would never be the same. If I ever saw my uncle again.

I stared after him for a long time, long after the door closed and I lost the sounds of his car driving down the road. Uncle Will would never forgive me for this. I knew it. The act of betrayal would cut too deeply for him to accept me again if I decided to make amends.

This truly was goodbye.

The walk from the house would take me some time. I’d leave my car here, taking only what I might need for the academy and nothing more.

My bags were packed, the vials secured. I’d stuffed them at the bottom of my wheeled suitcase along with clothes and snacks and memorabilia I couldn’t live without. It hurt to leave the laptop at the house, just as it hurt to leave the phone, but both of them were too easy to hack and track. I refused to take the chance and leave a trail.

If I disappeared, I did it for good. A trick I’d learned from Jason had me clearing my internet search history so Uncle Will wouldn’t be able to find out about the academy website no matter how hard he tried.

Vanish completely.

Under any other circumstances, running away from the protection of the pack would be foolish. But the time had come. I gathered my things closer, tightened my grip on the suitcase, and breathed in the familiar scents one last time.

No turning back, Tavi.

I took one last look around. I’d come back to this place one day, if I could.

Part of me knew it was just a pipe dream, though. I wouldn’t be allowed to come back. The pack would never allow it. The betrayal would cut too deep.

Now. I had to go now. I couldn’t even say goodbye to Cook and the others—not when I knew they would go straight to my uncle and tell him I was acting squirrelly. He would turn the car around without hesitation. Catch me in the act and punish me. Lock me up, most likely.

I couldn’t take the risk.

I dragged my suitcase, purse, and duffel bag downstairs as quietly as I could manage, then moved quickly through the den toward the French doors leading to the backyard.

My eyes stung and I swiped the moisture away, then silently opened one of the double patio doors. This would make less noise than leaving through the front, and with fewer prying eyes to report my movements.

I let the sound of my footsteps and the low hum of the wheeled suitcase drown out any lingering doubts as I took my only shot at freedom.

I didn’t dare turn around and look back at the house. Soon I was out of the neighborhood, the tree-lined streets shifting to a modern-day cement jungle. Car traffic increased until I heard nothing outside of the honks and roar of engines. Every step toward the car rental place in the city was too heavy, too swift, carrying me away from whatever torment and misery I was leaving behind me, and toward whatever unknowns lay in front of me.

The man behind the counter at the car rental facility was busy helping another customer when I arrived. One of the good things about living in the northern Virginia suburbs, we had wilderness close and city amenities closer. I waited my turn with little patience, choosing a seat from the near-empty line of chairs and keeping my luggage close to me. The sun had kissed above the horizon, rising steadily. Ten hours of driving and I’d be out of this place forever.

Lowering my head to avoid unwanted attention, I thought about the night before.

I’d used the opportunity to scroll through the school’s website and memorize any information I could, hoping it would give me an edge over the rest of the applicants. The way a person would research a company before they went in for a job interview.

There hadn’t been much there. A picture of the headmaster whose name I couldn’t remember now. He looked young, kind, with dusky light-brown hair and an easy smile, ears pointed, eyes a strange shade of orange. I wasn’t sure if regular full-blooded Fae aged the same way humans did. There were no other photos of the rest of the staff. I assumed I would meet them when I arrived at the academy.

I knew nothing about Faerie. I had no clue about that part of my heritage.

What the hell am I doing?

Escaping one bad situation and catapulting myself into another, where I had no idea about the major players. I didn’t know how to be Fae. Unease swirled and settled beneath my sternum. Maybe my entire plan was nuts. Maybe I should have done what Uncle Will wanted and forced myself to go through with the arrangement with Kendrick.

My fingers clenched until my knuckles ached.

“Excuse me, Miss? You’re up.”

The car rental guy at the counter tapped a finger in the universal sign to hurry up. Not sure where he had to go or why he was suddenly in such a hurry, but I stood and followed him into a small office with beige blinds. When had the other customer left? I hadn’t been paying attention.

“Thanks,” I told the guy, but I wasn’t sure for what.

“What can I do to help you today?” he asked, holding a hand out for me to sit.

I dragged my luggage behind me and took a seat in front of him. I’d think it obvious why I was here. His hand remained outstretched to shake. I ignored it and said, “I need to rent a car, please.”

“What are you looking for?” he enquired as he settled into his seat. “Compact, mid-sized, luxury?”

Whatever will get me from Point A to Point B the fastest. I chewed the inside of my lip. “Compact.” It would be smaller, less likely to draw attention.

“Perfect. I need to see your driver’s license and I can get the process started for you.”

Reaching into my purse, I pulled the slim plastic card from my wallet and slid it across the desk to him. The man inclined his head, staring at the information. Then up to me. Then back to the card. The hairs of his reddish beard bristled.

“You’re only eighteen,” he said.

“Yes, my birthday was about a week ago.” Smile, Tavi. Keep it casual. Don’t let him see you sweat.

“You’re not old enough to rent a car, Miss Alderidge.” He said it like the information was obvious. “You have to be twenty-five years old. It’s the law.”

I stared at him for what felt like a good five minutes. “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

“Twenty-five,” the man said again. “It’s standard. Do you have a guardian with you? He glanced around as though I’d hidden an adult somewhere. Maybe inside my suitcase.

“No, there’s no one.” I thought about the money I’d stolen from Uncle Will burning a hole in my pocket, ready to be spent. “Isn’t there anything you can do? Something I can pay? How much will it take?”

The man’s gaze hardened and at once he wasn’t the bland and helpful service provider but someone suspicious, someone who could potentially stand in my way. “No, honey, there isn’t.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Are you in trouble? Do you need me to call someone for you?”

Uh oh. Alert, alert! “No, thank you. Everything is fine.”

I hurried out of the car rental office with the knots in my stomach twisting into new and unfamiliar patterns. There were some things in this world money couldn’t buy, apparently. Rental cars among them. It was a new experience for me and one I didn’t want to repeat anytime soon. Especially not when people automatically assumed I was in trouble.

I was in trouble, but not the kind a human could help me conquer.

How would I make it to the academy by tomorrow without a car?

I absolutely could not go back to the house for my car. My uncle would track it as easily as he tracked prey in the woods. It left me stuck, scrambling to reset and to find another way to make this work.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, with the sun high and people walking around me without a second thought. No one questioned the luggage. No one stopped to ask if I needed help. Good.

Luckily, I had money in my pocket. Money might not have been able to buy much with the rental car guy, but it could certainly get me a junker. A junker with enough go to travel ten hours, at least.

I could make it work.

It would take me a good twenty minutes to walk to the nearest place, if I remembered, but no worries. If it got me out of the city, then what choice did I have? I couldn’t risk the bus; the stops all had cameras and there were too many people to remember my face.

I hated this place. Hated cities period. I preferred the fields and the wild places where I could let myself be free without fear of repercussion. Instead now I had to put on a face. I had to pretend to be anything other than what I was.

Who was I kidding? I’d been this way my entire life. There had never been a moment where I felt the utter freedom to be safe with both of my sides.

Maybe there had been a time once, before my parents died. But those six years were a blank.

On to a new adventure, I tried to tell myself as I walked. If I could get to the academy, if I could make it through the required years and carve out a place for myself in Faerie, then maybe, just maybe, I could find freedom.

And Kendrick Grimaldi would never be able to find me.

I moved as fast as I could down the sidewalk. Arms aching and legs sore from hustling, I finally stood in front of the used car lot I remembered seeing on previous trips downtown. The owner had obviously made efforts to draw in the crowd with bright and vulgar banners proclaiming the fabulous deals he had to offer. The building, a squat concrete box with barred windows, looked like someone had picked up a tiny prison and plopped it down in the middle of the city block, with walls stained orange by rainwater dripping through the metal gutters.

But I was here, and the more time I wasted, the more time it gave someone at the house to notice I was not in my room.

I marched through the open gates, wheeling my suitcase behind me, duffel bag bouncing, glancing around at the car choices as I passed them. On the left I saw a red Lexus. Something I might have gotten if I’d had my pick of the lot. Even the tires gleamed, everything polished to a sheen. But a car like that would stand out at the academy. It would stand out anywhere.

“Well, hello there, little one. You have good taste. The Lexus is a premium piece of machinery, less than thirty thousand miles on her.”

A large brown-skinned man dressed in an expensive suit approached me, his smile firmly in place and voice filled with automatic courtesy.

I forced a similar expression on my face. It would make our conversation go much easier. “The Lexus is nice,” I agreed, shifting to relieve the pressure of my duffel bag digging into my shoulder. “But I’m looking for something a little more understated.”

In one swift glance, the man judged me, the cut of my clothes and the brand of my purse. I could practically see dollar signs dancing behind his eyes.

“Aw, honey, you would look perfect behind the wheel of the Lexus. Think about how your friends will feel when they see you drive up to school in this beauty.” His hand came out, smoothly maneuvering me toward the car.

“What’s the oldest vehicle you have on the lot that still runs?” I asked him. “Something that’s going to blend in.”

The question surprised the man, clearly. He blinked as the wheels in his head turned and cogs clicked together. “In all good conscience, Big Dan can’t let you drive out of here in anything beneath you, Miss…”

I avoided giving him my name, stepping around him and eyeing the line of cars behind the Lexus. There had to be something here. Something nondescript and cheap.

It took less than five minutes of Big Dan trailing me, continuing with his spiel, to find the Toyota with a bumper held on by a hope and a prayer. I detected hints of dull areas where someone had used duct tape as a quick fix and it had worn away at the paint beneath.

Big Dan, or someone who worked for him, had tried to clean the car as well as they could but there were areas where the paint had been roughed and scratched. Even a good cleaning couldn’t disguise the wear. Peering inside, I saw a cracked dashboard showing a hint of yellow foam padding beneath.

I wanted it.

“How much for this one?” I purposely ignored the price written in marker across the windshield. If there was anything William had taught me, it was the importance of haggling. The final price wouldn’t be what was scribbled on the glass and we both knew it. I could get him down a bit lower. He expected the back and forth.

Big Dan walked over and leaned a massive hip against the hood, staring me down with the typical adult I-know-better-than-you smile with a hint of smugness at the edge of his lips. “Honey, this car…it’s not for someone like you,” he said.

He still thought he could talk me into the Lexus.

“I think it’s exactly for me. How much?” I repeated, drawing my brows together. No one would suspect I’d be driving this kind of car. It was the perfect disguise. “What’s the best you can do for it?”

“Sweetheart, there are better cars on the lot. I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting you drive off in the Toyota. Someone like you deserves better.”

“What’s the best you can do?” I asked again.

He finally saw I meant business. “Come into my office, little one, and we can talk.”

There were only so many cutesy pet names I could tolerate on a normal day. I’d heard them all at my internship with William’s firm. People, men in particular, thought they could sweet talk me with honeyed nicknames, nicknames with no bearing on who I was as a person, and it would help me to get my duties done faster. Or get me to do a special favor for them.

Big Dan didn’t know me from the next person on the street, and he didn’t know where I came from, which meant he could sweetie and honey and baby me until he turned blue in the face, but I wasn’t leaving without the Toyota.

There were some things money couldn’t buy, true. This wasn’t one of those times, I told myself, because I knew what I wanted.

Big Dan didn’t know what had hit him by the time I walked out. I left the small office cluttered with file cabinets two thousand dollars lighter, having managed to talk Big Dan down another five hundred off his asking price. It hadn’t taken much more than a few well-placed battings of the eyelashes along with tactics I’d picked up during my internship. And maybe a little magic.

Played.

Good, I thought. This was nothing but practice for the academy. I needed to be on my toes there.

A quick stop at a wireless phone store provided me a cheap and untraceable cell I’d use in place of the one I left behind. Who would I call? No one, I knew, but it felt familiar in my hand. And I could use the GPS system on the drive.

This was it.

The first step in the journey to my freedom. Throwing my luggage in the backseat, I finally slid behind the steering wheel and placed my hands on the cracked dashboard. The car smelled of burned microwave food and pine-scented air freshener, the seats cracked and stained. I didn’t care. It was my ticket out of here. Beautiful because it meant a shot at escape.

I thought about the stuff I’d tossed in the rear seat: everything important to me, including the empty picture frames from on top of my dresser. I thought about the money I’d taken from my skinflint uncle and hoped, if he ever noticed it was gone, maybe he could forgive me for taking it.

Forgive me for a lot of things.

Once he realized I was gone…no, he couldn’t get past the betrayal. What I’d done could damage relations between the Alderidge and Grimaldi packs for the foreseeable future. It would impact everyone in the packs from the alpha to the lowest omega.

I shook my head to clear it, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. Running away would be letting my pack down. For what he’d deal with, I was sorry.

Not sorry enough to stay.

The road spread out in front of me. Once I made it out of the city, I made good time. The burner phone, at least, came equipped with GPS and the mechanical voice guided me closer to the academy with each mile.

Closer to my future. Closer to my escape. And once I was out of the city past the early morning traffic, something eased inside of me, a tension I hadn’t been aware of. I thought of the vials in the backseat behind me. The vials to keep my shifter nature at bay. The rest would be up to me.

Hours passed. I grabbed fast food for lunch, with extra for dinner, and listened to the radio to pass the time. I decided to find a place to stop for the night. I hadn’t seen any road signs for a motel in a while but there should be some ahead. I’d stop at the next one I found. With autumn around the corner, the days were getting shorter, and already it was dark and I was tired.

I tapped on the steering wheel in time with the song on the radio. One step at a time, another mile closer to the academy.

In my head I was already there and figuring out my next step. But fatigue rode me hard, eyes blurring, shoulders tight. I needed to stop and get some sleep so I could rest up before orientation tomorrow morning.

Close, so close.

The car shook and sputtered, throwing me forward against the dashboard until the seatbelt bit into my neck. My wrist jolted painfully. Smoke curled from beneath the hood and the car wheezed like an old man with COPD.

“No, no! Come on, don’t do this to me. Not now.”

I managed to yank the wheel and bring the old girl over to the side of the road seconds before its final death call.

Black smoke belching, and the clock marking midnight, the car died a terrible death.