Switched, Page 9

  “Oh, well.” Elora shook her head as if she hadn’t meant to say that. “Every now and again, a mother knows. Sometimes they hurt the child or kill them.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You knew there was a chance that she might kill me?” I snapped and stood up. “You knew that I could die but you just left me? You didn’t care what happened to me at all!”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic.” Elora rolled her eyes. “This is the way we live. It’s a very small risk, and it rarely happens. And you lived. No harm done.”

  “No harm done?” I pulled up my shirt, showing her the scar that stretched across my belly. “I was six years old, and I had sixty stitches. You call that no harm done?”

  “You’re being disgusting.” Elora stood up and waved me off. “That’s not at all how a Princess should behave.”

  I wanted to protest, but nothing came out of my mouth. Her reaction left me feeling dazed and strange. I let my shirt fall back down over my belly, as Elora glided over to the window. She clasped her hands in front of her and stared outside. She never said a single word, but a minute later Finn appeared in the doorway.

  “You need something, Elora?” Finn did a small bow to her back, making me think she probably had ways of seeing him even when she wasn’t looking.

  “Wendy is tired. Set her up in her room,” Elora commanded diffidently. “See that she has everything she needs.”

  “Of course.” Finn looked at me. His dark eyes were comforting, and even though I knew this was just his job, I felt relieved knowing he was there.

  He left hastily, and I hurried after him. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, trying to steady my nerves. I was still reeling from everything, trying to make sense of how I fit into all this.

  Elora was right, though. I probably did need to get cleaned up, and maybe if I slept on it, everything would seem better somehow. But I doubted it.

  Finn led me up a winding staircase and down another elaborate hall. At the end, he opened a heavy wooden door, revealing what I assumed was my room. It was massive, with high-vaulted ceilings, and one entirely windowed wall that made it seem even larger.

  A gigantic four-poster bed sat in the center, and an array of gleaming modern furnishings surrounded it. The room boasted a laptop, flat-screen, gaming systems, iPod, and every other gadget I could possibly want. Finn opened the closet door, which was already stocked with clothing. He opened another door and flicked on the light, revealing my own private bathroom, which more closely resembled a spa.

  “How do you know where everything is?” I asked. He seemed to know this house very well, and having him there beside me helped calm me some.

  “I stay here from time to time,” Finn replied nonchalantly.

  “What? Why?” I felt a horrible pang of jealousy, terrified that he was somehow involved with Elora in a perverse fashion. He did seem to revere her more than I thought he should.

  “Protection. Your mother is a very powerful woman, but she’s not all-powerful,” Finn explained vaguely. “Since I’m a tracker, I can tune in to her. I can sense danger and aid her if it’s required.”

  “Is it required?” At that moment I didn’t particularly care if a band of raging marauders tried to do her in, but if there were frequent attacks on her “castle,” I thought I should know.

  “I’ll help you get acclimated. Everybody knows this isn’t a perfect system. Rhys’s room is down the hall. My room, along with Elora’s, is on the other wing.”

  It didn’t escape me that Finn had ignored my question entirely, but it had been a long day, so I let it pass. I definitely felt better knowing he would be around. I didn’t think I could handle it all if I was left alone in this house with that woman. While she was clearly stunning and powerful, there wasn’t any warmth to her.

  I hadn’t realized that I even wanted that until now. After all the years of rejecting Maggie’s and even Matt’s attempts at bonding, I hadn’t known how much I’d crave basic human warmth once it was gone.

  “So . . . did you do this?” I gestured to my high-tech room.

  “No. Rhys decorated it.” Finn didn’t look that interested in any of the expensive gear I had lying about, so that made sense. “The clothes were all Willa, I believe. You’ll meet her later on.”

  “Rhys isn’t my brother?” I asked again. I couldn’t figure out how he fit into all of this. We had only met briefly, but he seemed nice and normal.

  “No. He’s mänsklig,” Finn answered, as if I would understand.

  “What does that mean?” I furrowed my brow at him.

  “It means he’s not your brother,” Finn replied glibly and made a step toward the door. “Is there anything you need before I go?”

  His abrupt decision to leave disappointed me, especially when I felt so isolated and confused, but I had no reason to keep him. Still hugging myself tightly, I shook my head and sat on the bed. Instead of leaving, Finn paused and looked back at me.

  “Are you going to be all right with all of this?” Finn asked, eyeing me intently.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “This wasn’t at all what I had expected.” It was far grander and far worse than anything I had envisioned. “I just . . . I feel like I’m in The Princess Diaries, if Julie Andrews had been a thief.”

  “Mmm,” Finn murmured knowingly and walked back over to me. He sat on the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know this way of life is a hard concept for some.”

  “They’re grifters, Finn.” I swallowed hard. “That’s all they are. I’m just a means of swindling money out of rich people. Joke’s on her, though. My family’s not that rich.”

  “I can assure you that you are much more than that to her, much more. Elora is a complicated woman, and showing emotion doesn’t come easy for her. But she is a good woman. Regardless of whether you have money or not, you will have a place here.”

  “Do you know how much money they have? The Everlys?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Finn said almost hesitantly. “Elora had me checking your finances while I tracked you.”

  “How much?” I asked.

  “Do you want to know your trust and what you stand to inherit, or your guardian and brother’s total wealth?” Finn’s face had gone expressionless. “Do you want net worth? Liquid assets? Are you including real estate, like the house they still own in the Hamptons? Dollar amount?”

  “I don’t really care.” I shook my head. “I was just . . . Elora was convinced that we really did have a lot of money, and I was just curious. I didn’t even know I had a trust fund until today.”

  “Yes. You really do have a lot of money,” Finn said. “More than even Elora had originally thought.” I nodded and looked at my feet. “You lived well below your means.”

  “I think Maggie thought it would be better for me and Matt, and I never really cared that much about money.” I kept staring at my feet, and then finally I looked up at Finn. “They would give me anything. They would give me all of it if I asked. But I’m never taking any money from them, not for myself and certainly not for Elora. Make sure you tell her that when you go back to her.”

  I had expected him to protest in some way, but Finn surprised me. His lips curled into the hint of a smile, and if anything, he looked almost proud of me.

  “I will,” he promised, amusement tinging his voice. “But right now you should shower. You’ll feel better after.”

  Finn helped me settle into my room. My closet was massive and overstocked, but he knew exactly where my new pajamas were. He taught me how to close the blinds for my windows, which were run by remote control, and how to turn on my overly complicated shower.

  Once he left, I sat on the edge of the tub and tried not to let this all get to me. I was starting to think that Matt and Maggie might have been the only people who loved me for me, and now I was supposed to steal from them. Even if it wasn’t really stealing. I knew they would freely give me anything I asked for, and that only made it hurt worse.

  NINE

&
nbsp; homesick

  When I came out of my shower, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, I was surprised to find Rhys sitting on my bed. He had my iPod, the one that had come with the room, and he was scrolling through it. I cleared my throat loudly, since he apparently hadn’t heard me exit the bathroom.

  “Oh, hey!” Rhys set aside the iPod and got to his feet, grinning at me in a way that made his eyes sparkle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to see how you were doing, how you liked it here.”

  “I don’t know.” My hair had to be terrible mess, and I pulled a hand through the wet tangles. “It’s too soon to tell yet.”

  “You like the stuff?” Rhys asked, gesturing around the room. “I picked out everything that I liked, which I know sounds kind of vain. I asked for some input from Rhiannon, because she’s a girl, but it’s still so hard to pick out stuff for someone you’ve never met.”

  “No, it all looks really good. You did a great job.” I rubbed my eyes and yawned.

  “Oh, sorry. You’re probably exhausted.” Rhys stood up. “I just got done with school, and I didn’t have a chance to talk to you earlier. But . . . yeah. I’ll leave you be.”

  “Wait. You just got done with school?” I furrowed my brow, trying to understand. “Does that mean you’re a tracker?”

  “No.” It was his turn to look confused. “I’m mänks.” When he saw the perplexed look on my face, he corrected himself. “Sorry. It’s just short for mänsklig.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I demanded. My low energy made it hard to conceal my exasperation.

  “They’ll explain it to you later.” Rhys shrugged. “Anyway, I should let you freshen up. If I’m not in my room, I’ll be downstairs, getting some food.”

  “Are you happy here?” I blurted out before I could think about how rude that sounded. His eyes met mine just for a second, revealing something intense I couldn’t quite decipher, but then he quickly dropped them.

  “Why wouldn’t I be happy?” Rhys asked wryly. He ran his fingers along my silk sheets, staring at the bedspread intently. “I have everything a kid could want. Video games, cars, toys, money, clothes, servants . . .” He trailed off, but then a slow smile returned to his face and he looked up at me. “And now I have a Princess living across the hall from me. I’m ecstatic.”

  “I’m not really a Princess.” I shook my head and tucked my hair behind my ears. “Not in the real sense of the word. I mean . . . I just got here.”

  “You look like a Princess to me.” The way he smiled at me made me want to blush, so I looked down, unsure of what else to do.

  “So what about you?” I kept my head down, but I raised my eyes to meet his. The smile playing on my lips felt oddly flirtatious, but I didn’t mind. “Are you some kind of Prince?”

  “Hardly.” Rhys laughed. He plucked at his sandy hair, looking rather sheepish. “I should probably let you finish getting dressed. The chef is off tonight, so supper is on me.”

  Rhys turned and walked down the hall, whistling a song I didn’t recognize. I shut my door, wishing I could understand this all better. I was a Trylle Princess to a grifter empire, and I had a mänsklig living across the hall from me, whatever the hell that meant.

  I lived in this amazingly stunning house with these cold, indifferent people, and the price of admission was stealing from the only people who cared about me. Sure, Finn was here, but he had made it perfectly clear that his only interest in me was business.

  I went through my closet, looking for something to wear. Most of the clothes seemed too fancy for me. Not that I had grown up wearing rags or anything. In fact, if my mother . . . er, Kim . . . hadn’t gone crazy and left, these would be exactly the kind of clothes I’d be expected to wear now. All high-class fashion pieces. Eventually I managed to dig up a simple skirt and shirt that resembled something I’d actually wear.

  I was starving, so I headed off to find the kitchen to take Rhys up on his offer. The tile floors were cold under my feet, and strangely, I had yet to see any rugs or carpet in the entire house.

  I had never been fond of the feel of carpet on my feet, or really the feel of anything on them. When I thought back to my glimpse of the closet here, as large and full as it had been, there hadn’t been any shoes. It must be a Trylle thing, and that thought was oddly comforting. I was part of something.

  I passed through the living room, where a fireplace filled the partial wall separating it from an elegant dining room. The furniture appeared to be handcrafted wood and was upholstered in white. The floors were all smooth golden wood, and everything was aimed toward the glass wall, forcing you to admire the view.

  “Nice digs, right?” Rhys said, and I whirled around to find him standing behind me, smiling.

  “Yeah.” I looked around the room appreciatively. “Elora definitely has good taste.”

  “Yeah.” Rhys shrugged. “You gotta be hungry, though. Come on. I’ll whip you up something in the kitchen.” He started walking out of the room, and I followed him. “You’ll probably hate what I make, though. You’re into all that health food junk like everybody else, right?”

  “I don’t know.” I had never thought of myself as a health nut, but the things I preferred tended to be organic and vegan. “I like natural things, I guess.”

  He nodded knowingly as he led me past the ornate dining room into a massive kitchen. There were two professional-grade stoves, two massive stainless-steel fridges, a gigantic island in the center, and more cupboards than the residents in this house could possibly use. Rhys went over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Mountain Dew and a bottle of water.

  “Water, right?” Rhys held it out to me, and I took it from him. “I’m really not the best cook, but you’ll have to settle for my cooking.”

  “How often do you have a chef?” I asked. In a place like this, they definitely had some kind of staff.

  “Part-time.” Rhys took a sip from his Mountain Dew, then set it on the island and went to the other fridge to start rooting around. “Just weekends, but that’s because it’s usually when we entertain. I don’t know what Elora eats during the week, but I’m on a fend-for-yourself basis.”

  I leaned on the island, drinking my water. This kitchen reminded me of the one in our house in the Hamptons, the one Kim had attempted filicide in, but that one had been smaller. If she hadn’t left, this was probably how I would’ve been raised. In fact, I’m sure this was how she had been brought up.

  Maggie easily could’ve lived like this. I thought back to what Finn had told me about Matt and Maggie living well below their means. I wondered why it was so important to them to preserve the family nest egg.

  The only explanation that made sense was that they were saving it for me—to make sure I was taken care of for the rest of my life. Which probably seemed all the more necessary given my problems at school.

  Funny that the very thing Elora planned to steal from them was precisely what they planned to give.

  And Maggie had made it clear through her choices that taking care of me herself was more important than spending money. She had made a choice that my own mother never would have.

  “So you like shitake mushrooms, right?” Rhys was saying. He had been pulling things out of the fridge, but I had been too lost in thought to notice. His arms were overflowing with vegetables.

  “Uh, yeah, I love mushrooms.” I straightened up and tried to see what all he had, and for the most part it looked like things I enjoyed.

  “Excellent.” Rhys grinned at me and dropped his armload of food into the kitchen sink. “I’m going to make you the best stir-fry you’ve ever tasted.”

  He went about chopping things up, and I offered to help him, but he insisted that he could handle it. The whole time, he talked amicably about the new motorcycle he’d gotten last week. I tried to keep up with the conversation, but all I knew about motorcycles were that they went fast and I liked them.

  “What are you making in here?” Finn came into the kitche
n, his expression vaguely disgusted.

  His hair was damp from a recent shower, and he smelled like the grass after a rain, only sweeter. He walked past me without even a glance in my direction and went over to where Rhys had thrown everything into a wok on the stove.

  “Stir-fry!” Rhys proclaimed.

  “Really?” Finn leaned over his shoulder and peered down at the ingredients in the pan. Rhys moved to the side a little so Finn could reach in and grab something out of it. He sniffed it, then popped it into his mouth. “Well, it’s not terrible.”

  “Stop my beating heart!” Rhys put his hand over his heart and feigned astonishment. “Has my food passed the test of the hardest food critic in the land?”

  “No. I just said it wasn’t terrible.” Finn shook his head at Rhys’s dramatics and went to the fridge to get a bottle of water. “And I’m certain that Elora is a much harsher food critic than I’ll ever be.”

  “That’s probably true, but she’s never let me cook for her,” Rhys admitted, shaking the wok to stir up the vegetables more.

  “You really shouldn’t let him cook for you,” Finn advised, looking at me for the first time. “He gave me food poisoning once.”

  “You cannot get food poisoning from an orange!” Rhys protested and looked back at him. “It’s just not possible! And even if you can, I handed you the orange. I didn’t even have a chance to contaminate it!”

  “I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. A smile was creeping onto his face, and I could tell he was amused by how much Rhys was getting worked up.

  “You didn’t even eat the part I touched! You peeled it and threw the skin away!” Rhys sounded exasperated. He wasn’t paying attention to the wok as he struggled to convince us of his innocence, and a flame licked up from the food.

  “Food’s on fire.” Finn nodded to the stove.

  “Dammit!” Rhys got a glass of water and splashed it in the stir-fry, and I started to question how good this was going to taste when he was done with it.