Fever Fae - Meg Xuemei X Page 0,14

back of my head.

The stalkers might have something to do with my parents’ disappearance. If I was clever and sneaky enough, maybe I could stalk the stalker and find new clues that would lead to my parents.

I slid the dagger back into its sheath in my boot and steeled my shoulders. I’d keep a close eye on my siblings while we were in the house at night. In the daytime, they’d be safe at school, and I would show my unwelcome visitors they were messing with the wrong girl.

Half of my confidence returning, I strode across the house to the front door, pulled it open, and strolled out. The trunk of the van opened with a click of the remote on the keys.

As I stood by my car, once again, I had the unpleasant feeling of being watched. I scanned the perimeter of my house, and whoever stalked me hid from sight. Someone had followed me to my house. And I had a hunch that it wasn’t just one party spying on me.

Perhaps the two Fae had returned.

I kept vigilant watch as I carried groceries into the house. Once I had put the perishables in the fridge and freezer, I grabbed a couple canisters of salt and trekked around the outside of the house, pouring a steady stream of the white crystals along the foundation and across every entrance. Then I hung strings of garlic above the front and back doors and the windows on the first floor. Lastly, I hefted the bag of iron crowbars I’d picked up at a hardware store and secured one across every window as well.

I’d checked Google in the Costco parking lot, and every search result agreed that Fae were allergic to iron. Witches and demons couldn’t cross pure salt. The garlic was to ward off vampires, just in case.

And if all those preventive materials failed to stop the supernatural beings from getting into the house, I had a failsafe.

I climbed upstairs to my parents’ room and strode to the heavy metal cabinet in one corner, then punched in the combination to unlock it. Dad’s three shotguns rested safely in their spots. The .308 Winchester looked like a classic hunting rifle, equally suitable for stopping coyotes or intruders. The black AR-15 shotgun was an upgrade from .308 Winchester both in looks and power.

My gaze lingered on the last weapon, the Legend Heavy, an elephant gun in every sense of the word. It was my dad’s beloved. It was worth a low-income family’s yearly salary. The rifle used .458 Lott cartridges and came with a four-round capacity magazine. Never mind an elephant, that gun could take down a dinosaur. I’d told Dad so when he brought it home.

“We don’t have a T-Rex for you to blow up, Dad.” I’d rolled my eyes at him.

“You never know, Evie,” he’d said. “Sometimes the world shifts in a blink of an eye. Anything can happen.”

“You’re such an optimist. Does Mom know about this shit?” I had asked.

“Language, young lady.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m not going to rat you out to Mom. But it seems overkill to get that fancy rifle. You could have used the money to feed the poor.”

“We’re the poor,” he’d said good-naturally.

“Not that poor, if you could get your hands on a weapon like that.” I had laughed. “When can I try it?”

Dad had given me an indecipherable look. “That rifle was a present.”

“Who would give you such an expensive gift, Dad?” I’d fished.

He didn’t answer as he carefully put it in the gun cabinet.

“I’ve never met your associates. I’m still not convinced that you aren’t working for a secret agency or something.”

“You have no idea, baby girl.” He had flashed me a doting smile. “At least we aren’t in a cult.”

My eyes misted at the memory. To this day, I still didn’t know whom my parents worked for or the actual sources of our income. And the owners of all the houses we’d lived in, including our current one, were untraceable.

My parents’ disappearance wasn’t random. I knew for sure now, as I started to pieces memories and clues together. They should have told me if something was wrong. They could have trusted me and I would help.

I placed the .308 Winchester above the highest cabinet in the kitchen and pushed it farther back, so my siblings wouldn’t see it. Then I tucked the AR-15 under the folding top of the side table in the foyer, where it would be within fairly easy reach near the front