Page 22 of Faerie Marked

Iwasin 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 formycar. 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 enoughgoto 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 citiesperiod. 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 outanywhere.

“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 anythingbeneathyou, 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’sexactlyfor 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?”

---