Page 191 of Pixie Problems

Torian spun on me, interrupting my thoughts. "Why are you following me?"

"Because we're suspended for the evening," I reminded him, "and I've agreed to make sure you don't break anything. That means re-shielding your room."

"Figured you'd be worried about your girlfriend," he taunted.

"Still not my girlfriend," I assured him. "We're just friends."

Torian slapped his hand on the call button for the elevator. "Bullshit."

"Rain is happy with the way things are," I told him, stepping in first when the door opened.

Torian glared at me, but followed. "I don't need a babysitter."

"I happen to disagree."

The kid fucking growled in the back of his throat like an animal. The sound was the sort of rage I couldn't even imagine, and right now, Torianwas filled with it. When he slammed his hand against the button for the fourth floor, I didn't say a thing. Instead, I moved to the back of the car, giving him plenty of space.

The ride up was silent, but when the doors opened on our floor, Torian said, "How are you supposed to find the damned token if you're babysitting me?"

Then he just stormed toward his room. Letting out a tense breath, I shook my head, then followed, giving him a bit of space. I could feel the static in the air as his power gathered, which made me think he was either holding things in more than I could guess, or slipping worse than we'd thought. I just wished he'd give me a hint!

A flick of his hand unlocked his door. Torian entered his own room, but left the thing open behind him, almost like an invitation. Deciding I might as well make sure his room was completely protected, I braced for another one of his tantrums, then followed him in.

The space was clean. In truth, immaculate was a better word. At first glance, it all seemed normal, but then my eyes landed on the bookshelves that did not face the bathroom. There, Peter Pan, Dr. Seuss, and other classic children's books were carefully stored. Each one was a hardcover. All of them were completely pristine.

The wall I could see from my side had textbooks and folders. The sort of thing typical for a teenager's dorm. There was a photo of him with his sister that looked like it had been taken here, outside somewhere. The smiles on their faces did not match Torian's expression now.

"Well?" he snapped. "Get to it, Keir!"

"Yeah," I muttered, imagining his room completely sealed off to all magic.

With a push, I sent a bubble of iridescent colors out to mesh with the walls of his room. The whole thing would be easy for a person to pass through, but not magic. No conjurations, enchantments, or even glamours would be able to pass this shield. Yet as the magic hit the doorway to the bathroom, it crackled, sending up a green flare.

"Don't fuck up the gate, you dumbass!" he snarled.

So I pulled the shield back a bit, leaving millimeters of space between them. His gate would still work, but the kid's tone? It grated on my last nerve. Still, I was working, so I pushed my annoyance away, checking each nook and cranny in here to verify Torian's temper was completely secure. Then I released it all, trusting that my magic would hold.

"Ok, it's..." My words trailed off as my eyes landed on Torian in the process of pulling off his uniform.

Kid - that was what I'd been calling him, yet I'd been so wrong. As the fabric slipped over his head, my eyes landed on broad muscles that did not come from years of magical exercises. Torian's shoulders were like cables. His biceps rippled. All of that made it into my brain, yet my eyes hung on the last thing I'd ever expected.

His back.

His skin wasn't smooth like the fae, nor was it covered in zits like most human teens. Instead, there were long welts standing up. The skin over them was thick and redder than his tawny color. The irregular shape of them proved these were scars, and deep ones from the way they'd healed.

"Your..." I took a half step towards him. "Torian, what happened?"

He paused, his entire body tensing, and then he spun to face me. "Out!"

"What happened to your back?" I demanded. "Torian, I can heal that."

"That?" he asked, snatching a shirt from the end of his bed and shoving his arms into it. "No one can heal that, and it's a reminder. Your precious queen leftthaton me."

"You saw the Mad Queen?" I asked.

"She fucking trained me!" he hissed. "And do you know what happens to little boys who can't hold their control?" He shoved his head into his shirt and yanked it over his chest. "Each mistake earned a lash. Oh, and it was a beautiful scepter that she used. Gold and pearl, witheltaminlays. I'm sure you've seen it in history books, Keir. She was coronated with it. A crown on her head and a scepter in her hands which she used like afucking weapon!"

"That's how you learned magic?" I asked.