I was in trouble.
I didn’t answer, and Kenzie’s dad continued to regard me without expression. His voice didn’t change; it was still perfectly reasonable, though his eyes turned steely as he said, “Explain yourself, please. Tell me why I shouldn’t press charges against you for kidnapping.”
I swallowed the challenge on the tip of my tongue. The unfairness of it all burned my throat. He wasn’t making idle threats. I’d dealt with my share of lawyers, though they were all public defenders, not the same caliber as Kenzie’s dad. If he decided to press charges against me, there was little I could do. My word held no weight; if the cops did get involved, who would they believe—the rich lawyer or the teenage thug?
I took a deep breath to cool my anger so when I spoke I wouldn’t sound like the delinquent brute he thought I was. “Kenzie wanted to see New York,” I began in the most reasonable voice I could manage. “She asked me to take her. It was a split-second decision and probably not the smartest thing we could have done, but...” I shrugged helplessly. “We should have talked to you about it first, and I’m sorry for that. But it’s done now. And you can try to keep me away, have me arrested, whatever. But I’m not abandoning Kenzie.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and I wanted to kick myself. Nice, Ethan. Keep antagonizing Mr. Big Shot lawyer; that’s a great way to stay out of jail. But he was still waiting calmly for me to go on, and the next words out of my mouth were the absolute truth. “I swear, I would never do anything to hurt her. I wouldn’t have taken her anywhere if I’d known she’d end up here.”
He regarded me with a practiced blank expression, giving no hint of what he was thinking. “Mackenzie speaks very highly of you,” he said. “She told me that while you were in Central Park, you fought off a gang of thugs who tried to hurt her. She has never lied to me before, so I have no reason to doubt her words. But I think, in this case, I must ask you to stay away from my daughter.”
I blinked, taken aback by his quiet bluntness, unsure of what I’d just heard. “What?”
“You are not to see Mackenzie anywhere outside of school,” Mr. St. James continued, still in that cool, unruffled voice. “You are forbidden from calling her. You are not to speak to her if you can help it. If you come around our house, I will call the police. Do you understand, Mr. Chase?”
“You can’t be serious.” I was torn between laughing and wanting to slug this guy in the jaw. “You can’t forbid me from seeing anyone. And good luck getting Kenzie to agree to anything like that.”
“Yes,” Kenzie’s father agreed. “I know my daughter. And I know I cannot control what she does. But I can make your life very unplesant, Mr. Chase. Which is why I am asking you, politely, to stay away from Mackenzie. I think we both know that you’re no good for her. I think we both know that she ended up here—” he gestured back to Kenzie’s doorway “—because of you.”
That hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, unable to find the words to defend myself or disagree. Kenzie’s dad regarded me a second longer, then moved aside. “You should go now,” he said, a hint of warning below the smooth tone. I glared at him, then shoved past. I was tempted to tell him to go screw himself, just to prove he couldn’t order me around, but tempting fate right now seemed like a bad idea. There was nothing to be gained from it tonight.
“Think on what I said, Ethan Chase,” St. James added as I stalked down the hallway, silently fuming. “I will protect my daughter at all costs. Do not think you can fight me on this. You will lose, and you will lose badly.”
I continued to the parking lot without looking back. I saw the cop standing in the waiting room again, and he might’ve given me the evil eye as I ducked out. Maybe Kenzie’s dad had said something to him before confronting me...I didn’t know. I did know one thing—there was no way that A-hole would keep me from seeing Kenzie.
As I climbed into my truck and yanked the door shut behind me, my phone buzzed. Digging it out of my pocket, I checked the number and winced. Mom. Damn, I hadn’t called to let her know where I was. Guiltily, I hit the answer button and braced myself for the explosion. “Hey, Mom.”
“Where are you?” her frantic voice screeched in my ear. “I told you to call me if you were going to be late!”
“Um, yeah, sorry. I’m...uh, I’m at the hospital.”
“What?”
“Visiting a friend,” I added, mentally kicking myself. “I’m just visiting a friend.”
A long, shaky sigh, the kind that hinted she was holding back tears. “Come home, Ethan. Right now.”
“On my way,” I answered softly, and she hung up.
I expected a lecture when I got home. Something along the lines of “It’s only been three days since you vanished into Faeryland for a week, do you know how worried we were, you’re supposed to call if you’re going to be late.”
You know, the normal issues.
However, when I walked through the front door, bracing myself for scolding or yelling or general parental displeasure, it wasn’t Mom who rose from the living room couch to greet me.
It was Meghan.
CHAPTER THREE
THE IRON QUEEN’S WARNING
My stomach flip-flopped. My half sister, the queen of the Iron fey, was standing in my living room, looking as normal as any average, non-faery-related teenager. Almost. She wore her standard jeans and T-shirt, and her long, straight blond hair was pulled up behind her head. Only the slender, pointed ears gave her away; though the glamour concealed her true appearance, making her look perfectly human to mortals, my Sight always let me see through the disguise.