The Iron Traitor (The Iron Fey) Read Online Free Page A

would take a lot of talking, tears and forgiveness for Kenzie and her dad to settle their differences and start to heal old wounds, and I didn’t want to be that mediator. Not with my own screwed-up family. As if reading my mind, Kenzie asked, “What did your parents say when you got back? Were they very mad?”
    “No.” I shrugged. “They...sort of had a visit from the Iron Queen before I got home. She talked to them, told them where I had been, that it wasn’t my fault I disappeared.”
    “Have you talked to Keirran since New York? Or your sister?”
    I shook my head, my mood darkening at the thought of Keirran and Meghan. “No. I don’t think I’ll see either of them for a while.”
    “I’m worried about him,” Kenzie muttered, sounding as if she was fighting sleep. “Him and Annwyl both. Hope they’re all right.”
    A nurse peeked into the room, saw me and frowned, tapping her wrist. I nodded, and she ducked out.
    I stood, wishing I didn’t have to leave so soon. “I have to go,” I told her as she blinked sleepily up at me. Reaching down, I gently brushed the hair from her face. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
    Her eyes closed once more and didn’t open this time. “Ethan?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Bring chocolate? The food here sucks.”
    I laughed quietly, bent down and kissed her. Just a brief, light touch of her lips to mine, and she sank back into the pillows. Already asleep. I watched her for another heartbeat, then turned and left the room, vowing to come back as soon as I could.
    As I stepped into the hall, a shadow pushed itself off the wall and moved toward me, blocking my path. I blinked and stumbled to a halt as a tall, dark-haired man loomed over me, cold black eyes regarding me with suspicion. He wore a business suit that probably cost more than my truck, a large Rolex on one wrist and an air of aggressive superiority. He didn’t look distraught. In this corridor of rumpled, haggard-looking people, he was tall and clean shaven with not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothes.
    We stared at each other, and I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t like the way this guy was looking at me, like I was a stray dog wandering around and he wasn’t sure if he should call animal control. I was about to shove past him when his lips twitched into a cold, unamused smile, and he shook his head.
    “So.” The man’s voice wasn’t loud or even hostile. It was cool and pragmatic. “You’re him, aren’t you? The boy that took my very sick daughter away from her family, and her medicine, and her doctors, to go gallivanting up to New York for the week.”
    Oh, crap. You had to be kidding me. This was Kenzie’s father. Kenzie’s very rich, very powerful lawyer father. The father who, by Kenzie’s own admission, had had the entire police force searching for his missing daughter all week.
    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