Free Need by Carrie Jones Page B

“Devyn, guess what Zara just said.”
    “That she adores snow?” Devyn asks. “And is no longer a victim of cheimaphobia?”
    lssie licks some honey that’s run off her sandwich and onto her fingers.
    “No.”
    “That she has called her mother and no longer resents her for sending her to Maine, thus ending future decades of therapy and massive loss of revenue for my revenue-hungry parents?”
    “No.”
    I stick out my tongue at him.
    “That she has indeed freed all the political prisoners throughout the globe?”
    “Devyn!”
    He laughs. “Okay. Okay. I’ll play nice.”
    He turns to lssie and says all sweetly, “What did Zara say?”
    “She said that she’d rather be my friend than Megan’s, any day.”
    “Zara’s no idiot,” he says. He raises his eyebrows at me. “I knew you had it in you.”
    I’m totally confused. I take a sip of my soda. “What do you mean?”

    “To make good choices,” he says. “You’d choose lssie even if Megan didn’t hate you, right?”
    I glance at Megan and her frosty eye shadow, her perfect hair, her happy laugh, and her group of admirers. “Megan is cold.”
    Devyn nods. “Exactly.”
    We google like crazy. Most of the pixie hits are crap about role-playing games. Then we hit paydirt.
    People believe pixies are tiny, happy fey with just a streak of mischief. They are not. Closer to the vampire’s callous disdain for the sanctity of human life, pixies should be avoided at all costs. The only protection against their wrath is their mortal enemy, the were.
    “The were?” I say.
    Devyn and lssie exchange a look and then Devyn turns to me. “Not [_were _]as in the verb ‘we were’ but [_where _]as in ‘where the heck have my sunglasses gone.’ It’s werewolves, werebears, that sort of thing.”
    He smiles like it’s no big deal.
    “You [_are _]kidding me.” I rock back in my chair, shaking my head.
    “Weres are protectors of humans and each other,” lssie explains. “It’s like their sacred duty or something.”
    “And we know this how?”
    “Eighth-grade cryptozoology project.” She turns back to the screen. “Does it say anything else, Devyn?”
    We all read the page silently. Devyn must read faster than we do, because he points at a far-ahead paragraph.
    Pixies tend to congregate in wooded places. Some pass as humans and interact with humans under the benefit of a spell often known as a glamour. They should still be avoided. When not mated with a queen for an unspecified amount of time, the pixie king will demand tributes given to him in the form of young human men.
    Devyn reads the next part. ” ‘Whom they kill after using them for their blood-hungry pleasures.’ ”
    “Not cool,” lssie says.
    “Not cool at all,” I agree.
    I read a tiny bit more, ” ‘The tortured boys gradually fall prey to hysteria’ Duh? Wouldn’t you? ‘and then they lose pieces of their souls, gradually becoming an inhuman husk prior to death.’
    “That’s so freaky awful,” lssie whispers, grabbing onto Devyn’s arm.
    His eyes get sad and scared but his voice is brave. “It’ll be okay, Is.”
    “What if that actually happens?” I whisper. “What if it’s already happening?”
    I look into their pale, motionless faces. I try to brave myself up. “But it’s just a Web site, right? Anyone can write something on the Web.”
    The bell rings.
    “Right.” Devyn erases the history on the Web browser.
    Everyone looks so disturbed I decide to make a joke. “I guess the weres around here aren’t doing a good job.”
    They don’t even crack a smile.
    “Come on,” I say. “You don’t actually believe this, do you?”
    Issie rubs at the bridge of her nose with the side of her hand. “Kind of.”
    I stare down Devyn. “You believe in werewolves and pixies? Like there’s not enough real-life badness to be freaked about, you what? You want more?”
    “Zara. Can you explain the dust?”
    I pull in a breath, remember it by my car, near the woods, on