Illusions

Chapter Nineteen

“WE NEED TO TALK,” CHELSEA SAID, SEIZING LAUREL’S arm as she walked into the hall at school.

Laurel grinned. “Oh, I’m all right, Chelsea, thanks for asking. How about you? Did you develop any whiplash over the weekend?”

“I’m serious,” Chelsea hissed. “We need to talk. Now,” she added, her voice catching a little.

“Okay,” Laurel said, realizing this was not a time for jokes. “Absolutely. I’m sorry, um… let’s go down here.” She pointed Chelsea down the hall toward the janitorial closet that was always hanging open. No one hung out there. “What’s going on?” she said, sliding down the wall and patting the floor beside her.

Chelsea joined her, leaning her head close to Laurel’s. “It’s Ryan. He doesn’t remember what happened Friday night.”

Laurel looked confused. “That’s normal with head injuries, isn’t it?”

“He doesn’t remember anything. Not the crash, not me taking him home, he doesn’t remember about half of the dance, Laurel.”

“Will that wear off?”

Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I don’t think it will.”

In a panicky moment, Laurel understood. “You think I gave him something?” Laurel said, as loud as she dared.

Chelsea’s face immediately softened. “No, of course not!” She hesitated. “But I think someone gave him something. And let’s just say I don’t think it was his parents.”

“You really think his memory loss is… unnatural?” Laurel asked.

“It doesn’t make sense for it to be anything else. Saturday night on the drive home he was coherent and answering questions. He knows less today than he did an hour after it happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?”

“I wasn’t sure at first. But we were talking on the phone last night and he seriously doesn’t remember anything from about ten o’clock Friday night till Saturday morning. It’s too big a window of time. My brother Danny got a major concussion last year and there are only a few minutes that he doesn’t remember. Nothing like this.”

Laurel sighed. She didn’t know which would be worse — if it was Tamani who did this, or if it was Yuki.

“Laurel?” Chelsea’s voice was quiet now.

“Yeah?”

“You told me last year you’d do everything you could to protect Ryan. I’m calling in that promise now.”

“I can’t undo it,” Laurel said. “But you have my word I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

They both got to their feet and headed back toward the main hall, which was filling with students. Laurel stood in front of her locker, trying to decide what to do. She caught Tamani’s slender profile out of the corner of her eye and carefully tracked him through the halls, trying not to make it too obvious she was watching him.

Instead of stopping at his own locker, Tamani paused in front of Yuki’s, stepping in close to her. Laurel managed a quick peek at Yuki’s wound, but there wasn’t much to see. The cut had been right at her hairline, so it was mostly hidden anyway. On top of that, she — or Klea — had applied some kind of makeup to the wound that made it look like a regular human scar. Laurel had to admit, it was clever. The Mixer in her wanted to take a closer look, but… it just wasn’t possible right now. Especially with Tamani blocking her view.

He reached out and touched Yuki’s head, just below her cut, and then traced his finger down her face. Anger roiled in her stomach and Laurel had to turn away. She didn’t know for sure which one had given Ryan a memory elixir, but it had to have been one of them.

Laurel felt strong hands slide up her hips and David’s barely scruffy cheek pressed against hers.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile.

“Are you—”

“Please don’t ask if I’m okay,” Laurel interrupted. “I’m fine.”

“I was going to ask if you were… hungry,” David said, grinning.

Laurel rolled her eyes and Chelsea smacked David’s shoulder good-naturedly.

“Did Klea stop by again?” David asked, opening his locker.

“Not since eight o’clock yesterday when you asked last,” Laurel replied.

“That’s weird, isn’t it?” David asked.

Laurel had to admit it was. Klea was being way too hands-off about the whole thing. “We have a problem,” Laurel said, sobering. They all looked up as the five-minute bell rang. “Abbreviated version,” Laurel amended. “Somebody gave Ryan a memory elixir, and it wasn’t me, so I’m either angry or afraid, and maybe a little of both.”

“You want me to talk to him?” David said, folding his arms across his chest and shooting Tamani a glare.

“No,” Laurel hissed, pulling him back around, knowing Tamani would already have noticed anyway. “I can talk to him myself, thank you.”

“Fine,” David said darkly.

“Besides, we don’t know it was him,” Laurel said.

“Oh, please,” David argued. “What was it he said right before he left?” David affected a Scottish accent. “There is still work to be done tonight.’”

“He could have meant anything,” Laurel said, running her hand down David’s arm. “Please don’t jump to conclusions.”

David pursed his lips. “Fine,” he said. “But if you change your mind, just let me know.”

“I will,” Laurel said sincerely, tugging at the front of his shirt for a kiss. “We’ll talk later.”

David turned and headed down the hall just as Tamani said good-bye to Yuki and started walking toward Laurel. At the last second, Tamani looked over his shoulder, as though he were glancing back at Yuki — but this move changed his trajectory just enough for his shoulder to slam into David’s. David snapped around, hands spread wide.

“Hey!”

Everyone in the hallway stopped and stared.

Everyone but Tamani, who continued walking. But he held up one hand, still clad in his black, fingerless glove. “Sorry, bro,” he said, his accent sounding strangely American. “My bad.” He neither stopped nor met Laurel’s eyes as he strode past her, on his way toward their classroom.

Tamani couldn’t look at Laurel as she took her seat beside him in Government. He was wrong to shove David and he knew it, but after spending the whole weekend stewing, his temper had gotten away from him.

And it could have been an accident.

From her stiff posture, Tamani could see Laurel knew better. She was mad at him and he was tired of apologizing.

He had to admit, seeing her with David day in and day out had proven harder to handle than he expected. If he was honest with himself, he had kind of expected Laurel to be his by now. He always assumed that if he could just be in the same place as Laurel for long enough, he would win her over — awaken the chemistry that had sparked between them so many times in the past. But he’d been in Crescent City for more than two months and clearly that wasn’t happening.

He was essentially failing on all fronts. He had lost the trolls — and hadn’t found a single sign of them all weekend — he still had no idea what to do with Yuki, and the one time Klea had shown herself, he hadn’t been able to do anything at all.

Maybe Shar was right. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe it had always been a bad idea. But he couldn’t give up now — it just wasn’t in his nature. He tried to catch Laurel’s eye one more time, but she had her head down over her notebook and was scribbling furiously on the pages, taking down Mrs. Harms’s every word.

Fine, Tamani thought stubbornly. I don’t want to talk to you, either.

When class ended Tamani saw Laurel turn to him, but before she could speak, he presented his back, slid his books into his backpack, and hefted it onto his shoulder. He gave her one quick glance, met her narrowed gaze, then stormed out of the classroom.

He tried to look over the heads of the students around him, cursing his stature. But he managed to glimpse Yuki heading toward her locker and pushed through the crowd to get to her.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless.

Her eyes widened and then she looked at the floor, trying to hide her smile. “Hi.”

“I so don’t want to go to class. Any interest in ditching with me?”

Her eyes swung to both sides before she stepped closer and whispered, “Ditching?” in a voice so mortified you’d have thought he suggested murder.

“Sure. You’ve never done it?”

She shook her head sharply from side to side.

He held out a hand. “Want to?”

She stared at his hand for a long moment, as if it might jump up and bite her. Or, more likely, Tamani thought, that it might be a trap.

“Okay,” she said, a smile crossing her face now as she put her hand in his.

“See,” Tamani said, kind of enjoying himself now. “That wasn’t so bad.” He grinned as he pulled her with him, through the sea of warm bodies, toward the front doors. He had skipped class enough times that he knew there was no one standing in the parking lot waiting to pick off truants, but Yuki’s gaze was darting all over the place as if waiting for someone to jump out from behind a bush to catch her.

Tamani opened the passenger side door for her and said, “I’ll keep the top up till we’re off school property,” before slipping in the other side.

Yuki was staring at the windshield. “It’s fixed,” she said in surprise. “The hood too.”

“Yeah,” Tamani said casually. “I know a guy.”

Know a guy who likes money, more like. It was comical how quickly a little money could get something fixed in the human world. The mechanic had insisted it wasn’t possible in such a short time, but when Tamani dropped a stack of hundreds on the counter the mechanic had explained that by impossible, he really just meant outrageously expensive.

Yuki slumped down in the seat beside him so as not to be seen through her window and Tamani had to stifle a laugh. Faerie or not, she was clearly intimidated by the human school’s authority; she really felt like she was doing something bad. Once they were off school grounds and out of sight, Tamani pushed the button that opened up the top of the car and Yuki visibly relaxed, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and letting the wind flutter through it.

“So where are we going?” Yuki asked, her head lolling against the headrest.

“I don’t know. You have a favorite place?”

Yuki grimaced. “I don’t have a car. I can’t go too far.”

Tamani didn’t want to admit that his range was limited too. He couldn’t get very far from Laurel. Even though there had never been a troll attack at her school, there was no point tempting fate.

He saw a park off to his right and pulled over behind a bush so the car was hidden from the main road. “How’s this?”

“For what?” Yuki asked shyly, not raising her eyes to his.

It was obvious what she was thinking. And he had come on a little strong today. But he didn’t want to follow through on his false intentions quite so soon. “Thought we could just chat,” he said, his tone deliberately casual. “I haven’t been by your house lately and at school… there’s just so much pressure. Conversations are better out of school.”

“In a park?” she asked with a smile.

“I don’t see why not,” he said, leaning his head close. “You got something against parks?” Without waiting for a response he slipped out of the car, knowing she would follow. Sure enough, within seconds he heard the passenger door slam shut. Yuki caught up quickly.

“So are you tired of everyone asking you to say things in Japanese?” he asked, starting off on a nice, neutral topic.

She rolled her eyes. “Am I ever! Everyone wants me to tell them how to say their name. And when I tell them their name would be the same in Japan, they want a Japanese name. And then they butcher the pronunciation. At least you speak English.”

“Aye, but they still all want to hear me say ‘Top o’ the morning!’ I don’t have the heart to tell them that’s Irish, not Scottish.” Not that Tamani knew that before he’d looked it up on the internet after the tenth time someone said it to him.

“And they want to know if I watch anime.”

“Do you?” Tamani asked, wondering what anime was. He’d have to ask Laurel later. If she’d speak to him.

She snorted. “No. I watch regular shows. HBO”—she ducked her head—“and, I admit, some Disney Channel.”

Tamani chuckled because it seemed like the right thing to do. He had no idea what he was laughing about. He’d learned about television, but had never really watched any. Without context it was hard to apply many of the terms he’d picked up at the Manor. And he’d never been able to keep all those acronyms straight.

“So how have you been?” he asked, serious now as he leaned on a set of monkey bars and studied her.

“I’ve been pretty good. Nothing exciting.”

“You don’t call last weekend exciting?” he said, smiling.

“Oh, um, yeah,” she said, flustered now. “That was exciting. I meant besides that.”

“Is Klea okay with it all?” Tamani prodded. “She didn’t seem too worried about the accident.”

“Yeah, well,” Yuki started, walking away from Tamani and stepping up onto a swing, grasping the chains to steady herself. “She’s in law enforcement and sees a lot of stuff like that. Even when she is worried, she doesn’t show it.”

“Are you happy living with her? Well, kind of living with her, like you said.”

“Sure. I don’t see her much, but it’s fine.”

Tamani went out on a limb now, knowing she wouldn’t show her cards unless he tipped his hand a little too. “You seemed… nervous when she came by. Scared, almost.”

Yuki grimaced, almost imperceptibly. “I wasn’t scared,” she said, lifting her chin a tiny bit. She’d coaxed the swing into swaying side to side. “I hate calling her off a job. She doesn’t like it. It’s not that she’s mean or anything, she’s just not the nurturing type. She expects things of me, and one of them is to stay out of trouble. It’s not a bad thing; she has big plans and doesn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way.” There was a small hesitation. “I want to be like that someday,” she added quietly.

“I think you’re already like that,” Tamani said. He got behind her and grabbed the chains of her swing, pulling her carefully to a stop. Then he put one foot on the seat, wedging it between Yuki’s small sandals. Pushing off with his other foot, he stood and started them swinging, pressing his chest against her back. He felt her breath catch. “I worry about you being alone all the time. Dealing with her. She kinda scared me. I didn’t want to tell her I was the one driving.”

Yuki smiled up at him over her shoulder, clearly amused.

He hesitated, trying to time it for best effect. “If anything happens, if you get into trouble — with her, with anyone — will you tell me?”

She looked at him for a long time, their faces only inches apart, before she nodded slowly. “I will,” she whispered.

And for once, Tamani believed her.