Free The Inner Circle, Book 3 of the Glass Wall ( A YA Urban Fantasy Romance ) by Carmen Caine, Madison Adler Page A

on his feet.
    “Well done, lizardling.” Blondie laughed in
evil delight. “Accept your powers, use them and never forget that
you are one of us!” His deep voice carried clearly on the wind.
    My mouth dropped open at the implication.
Could Jareth really move something with just his thoughts?
    Unbidden, the memory of Halloween flashed
through my mind. It seemed so long ago; I’d just met him then. He’d
been angry and had seemingly made scissors flow through the air and
embed themselves into the carpet.
    “I will no longer hear your voice,” Jareth
announced imperiously. “You are invisible to me.”
    Blondie revealed his teeth in an overt
threat. “Then, if you do not join us, you are too dangerous. We
will take what is ours.” He let his gaze rove over Jareth from head
to toe, and I knew that he meant that they would take Jareth’s
body.
    And then the back door of the coffee shop
opened, and Samantha poked her head out.
    Catching sight of her, Blondie drew back with
a hiss.
    “Is that mangy raccoon out there again,
Sydney?” Samantha asked briskly. “Should I get the broom?”
    Blondie hesitated only a moment before
slithering under the car.
    I was shocked. Samantha did have an
impressive temper, but I was astounded that even a Mesmer might
think so.
    Taking heart, I grabbed Jareth’s sleeve and
hurriedly yanked him into the coffee shop.
    I felt safer inside, especially in Samantha’s
company.
    She didn’t say anything as I dragged Jareth
through the maze of boxes towards the front. She was too busy
dialing up Animal Control.
    “That mutated armadillo-raccoon thing is here
again,” I heard her complain sharply as I guided Jareth through the
door and into the front of the shop.
    “Sit down,” I ordered him, pushing him into
one of the overly-stuffed chairs.
    He didn’t resist. He slumped down obediently,
but he did take the time to deliberately prop his boot onto one of
Samantha’s precious coffee tables. But the gesture seemed somehow
forced.
    He was clearly shaken.
    I got him a blueberry muffin, and having a
few minutes before my shift started, I sat down opposite him. I
didn’t know how to make small talk in a situation like this, so I
didn’t even bother trying.
    “What did he mean about you seeing tulpas?” I
asked quietly.
    Jareth dropped his head into his hands. “I
see them,” he admitted. “I always have. It took me awhile to
realize that no one else could.”
    I found that disturbing. “Is that how you
read my mind?” I asked.
    “I don’t read your mind!” He scowled at me
and then knit his brows together in a line. “For you, it’s written
plain on your face, anyway.”
    I returned his scowl.
    “I do see the emotions you are creating,” he
explained, relenting a little after that. “And it isn’t hard to
figure out why you’re generating them. I can’t read your mind, but
the tulpas you create give big hints.”
    So he had kind of been reading my mind
this entire time. I wondered if he could read Rafael’s.
    He snorted and rolled his eyes. “And I can
tell from the new tulpa you’re creating right now that you’re
thinking of Rafael, so you must be wondering if I can see his
thoughts, too.”
    I blinked, chagrined.
    “The Fae can’t create tulpas,” he said
shortly. “They can’t dream.”
    They. The word stuck out like a sore thumb
between us. The way he’d said it was as if he didn’t really
consider himself one of them. Did that mean that he felt he might
be part of the Brotherhood?
    He’d clearly seen the tulpa that thought had
created, because he suddenly sat up and slammed his fist down hard
on the coffee table.
    The plate rattled and everyone in the shop
looked our way.
    Smiling woodenly, I sent them a cheery wave,
and when they’d returned to their own business, I shifted my gaze
back to Jareth.
    He was watching me coldly. “We’ve established
by now that there’s something wrong with me, have we not?” he asked
sarcastically. And then he dropped