I couldn’t hear anything. I hoped that meant Aunt Grace wasn’t actually searching the apartment for me. If she wasn’t searching, then maybe I could get out of this closet before I lost my mind. Assuming I hadn’t lost it already. If she was searching for me, it occurred to me that she might be able to do some kind of magic to find me. Note to self: ask Kimber for more details about how magic works if and when you have a chance.

It’s hard to keep track of time when you can’t see or hear, but it felt like I was in that closet forever. It grew stuffy almost immediately, and sweat trickled down the small of my back and between my pitiful excuse for breasts. I was seriously tempted to tear the feathers off of Kimber’s dress, but I was afraid someone might hear me and I’d give myself away.

Just as I was beginning to wonder if Kimber had left me here long after Grace had left just for a practical joke, I heard voices approaching. My breath caught in my throat and my heart started to hammer when I recognized one of those voices as Aunt Grace’s.

I let my breath out slowly and quietly. My heart hammered against my chest, and sweat beaded on my forehead.

“Would you like to look under the bed?” I heard Kimber ask, and she sounded drily amused. “Or how about in the closet? Though I’d open that door carefully if I were you. Things have a tendency to fall out. I don’t think she’d fit in one of my drawers, but you’re welcome to check there too if you’d like.”

Was Kimber nuts? Why was she actually suggesting Aunt Grace search the closet?

I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping when I heard the closet door swing open. No matter how much I told myself I didn’t think my aunt would kill me, there was no denying I was terrified. I pressed myself harder into the corner, but just as we’d had to move a lot of junk to get me in here, Aunt Grace would have to move a lot of junk before she’d be able to see me. I held my breath as I heard hangers clanking together and shoes hitting the floor. Kimber laughed as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and I wished I could reach her to smack her.

The closet door slammed shut, and I could hear the fury in Aunt Grace’s voice.

“Fine!” she snarled. “You or your brother have hidden her somewhere else. Don’t think I won’t find her! And you and whoever else was involved in her abduction will spend the next twenty years behind bars.”

Kimber said something in answer. I didn’t catch it, but I guess Aunt Grace did, because the next thing I heard was a loud slap, followed by Kimber’s gasp. I clenched my fists and bit my tongue to keep from shouting a protest. I’d disliked—and feared—Aunt Grace since the moment I’d met her, and it seemed my instincts had been spot on. I started groping blindly in search of a weapon. If Grace hit Kimber again, I was fully prepared to charge out of the closet and come to her defense. (Yes, I knew that would be dumb, but I would have felt like a coward if I’d hidden in the closet while Kimber got hurt.) Luckily, there were no further sounds of violence before the angry stomp of Grace’s footsteps told me she was leaving.

I was not in the most cheerful of moods when Kimber came back to dig me out of the closet. My nerves were shot, I was sweating like a pig, and I was so mad I wanted to punch her beautiful, delicate face. (Never mind that I’d been ready to charge to her rescue moments ago.)

“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked as I practically fell out of the closet, tripping over a tennis racket on the way out. Who knew the Fae played tennis? How terribly … ordinary.

Kimber grabbed my shoulders before I did a face-plant, but I jerked away from her. Unfortunately, I then stepped on a shoe. My ankle gave way, and I landed on my butt. And I’d thought I was in a bad mood before I got out of the closet!

I sat on the floor, peeling strands of hair away from my sticky, sweaty face. I glared first at the strappy red sandal with the ridiculously high heel that had toppled me, then at Kimber, who looked like she was about to bust a blood vessel trying not to laugh. I wasn’t finding it anywhere near so funny.

I scrambled to my feet with as much dignity as I could muster—which was about zero—and wished I were a few inches taller so I didn’t have to look up at Kimber.

“‘Why don’t you look in the closet?’” I said, doing a terrible impression of Kimber’s accent. “Were you trying to get me caught?”

She rolled her eyes—she seemed to do that a lot—and gave me a condescending smile. “If I’d acted like I had something to hide, Grace would have torn the place apart searching for you. This way, she wasn’t expecting to find anything, so she didn’t look very hard.”

I hated to admit that Kimber’s logic made sense. So I didn’t. “I practically had heart failure when she opened that door. At least you could have warned me what you were planning to do.”

“Sorry,” she said, but she didn’t sound terribly repentant.

Ignoring me, she started shoving stuff back into the closet. I could have helped her, I suppose, but I wasn’t feeling all that helpful.

“Are you all right?” I asked grudgingly.

Kimber rubbed her reddened cheek. “I’m fine,” she said with a rueful smile. “I should know better than to mouth off to someone like her.

“I guess we’re going to have to find you somewhere else to stay,” she continued, still cramming things into any available space. “Grace could come by for another surprise inspection, and I don’t want to assume we’ll get lucky twice.”

“I’ve already got a place to stay,” I said. “With my father.”

Kimber frowned at me. “You mean you will have a place to stay, when he gets out of jail. I checked on his status while you were hiding in the bathroom. He’s scheduled to come up before the Council tomorrow. But at least for today, he’s still locked up.”

I stifled a curse. My heart sank as I began to realize how thoroughly my life sucked right now. I was on my own, without a penny to my name or even a change of clothes, in a country so foreign there should be a new word for it, and with nowhere to go. I wanted to go home. Who would have thought it would come to this within two days of my setting foot in Avalon?

“I have to get out of Avalon,” I said, talking more to myself than to Kimber. Grace had said I wouldn’t be safe even outside of Avalon, but I wasn’t so sure. My mom and I had gotten really good at relocating over the years, and because she was always trying to make sure my dad couldn’t find us, we’d learned how to move without leaving a trail. Sure, I wanted to meet my dad and all, but not if it meant staying here and dodging Aunt Grace and Spriggans and who knew what other nightmares might come out of the woodwork.

“It sounds good in theory,” Kimber said, closing the closet door and turning to me with a look of sympathy on her face. “But your aunt Grace is captain of the border patrol, and you know she’ll have the Gates on high alert looking for you. Even if you could get through immigration without a passport.”

“But I’m an American citizen,” I whined. “They can’t keep me here against my will.” Maybe I could put in a call to the U.S. Embassy in London and they could get me out of here.

Kimber put her hands on my shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. “You’re a Faeriewalker. The government of Avalon won’t give a damn if keeping you here against your will causes some kind of international incident. You’d be considered worth the fallout.”

Great. Just great. I was trapped in Avalon, my aunt was hunting me, my dad was in jail, and the only people who seemed to be on my side were a pair of Fae teenagers I barely knew.

Kimber gave my shoulders another squeeze before she let go. “It’ll be all right. Between Ethan and me, I’m sure we can keep you safe until your father is free.”