Free Undraland by Mary Twomey Page B

with equal amounts of curiosity and wariness. She had two long dark braids coming out from under her white Amish bonnet.
    “Where are my clothes?” I demanded. “You didn’t… you didn’t dress me in this, did you?” My cheeks were hot, and I couldn’t manage to look at him.
    Jens’s smirk died on his lips. “Of course not. My sister did. Britta washed your clothes for you.” He turned his head to the side. “Britt, are her things dry yet?”
    “Probably not. Just a little longer. They’re in the sun and it’s a breezy day, so they’ll dry fast.” She addressed me as if I was a wild animal. “It’s okay, Miss Lucy. No one’s going to hurt you.”
    Jens cleared the distance between us and covered his hand over mine that was still clutching the poker. The warning in his eyes could not be ignored. “ I know you’re harmless, but you won’t threaten anyone in the presence of my sister again.”
    “Who knew you had a heart?” I hissed, glaring up at him to show I wasn’t afraid.
    “Whatever. You’ll get your precious jeans back soon enough, Moxie.”
    Crap. That was a great nickname. I kind of loved it.
    Jens placed the poker back in the sheath on the hearth. “Would it kill you to dress like a girl for once?”
    “Yes. Yes, it would. Just as much as it would kill you to give me a straight answer.” I sniffed the stale air that smelled of sweat and a little like cookies. “Or bathe. Honestly, is it a rule that guys have to smell like a sweaty gym wherever they go?”
    His arms flailed out in exasperation. “I killed a Were so you would be safe! Then three Weredogs!”
    Oh, yeah. He got me there. Change the subject. “Where am I?”
    He spoke slowly, as if I were mentally handicapped. “This is a house. My house.” He stomped his foot to the wood surface. “This is a floor. It’s what you use to pass out on.”
    My fists clenched at my sides as I glowered. “Why am I here, smartass?”
    “When you’re done being a pain, I’m going to take you to your Uncle Rick. He can answer all your questions.”
    “And you can’t?”
    “Can, but won’t. Your questions just multiply. Answer one, and fifteen more appear. My job was to keep your family safe and move you if Pesta tried to take you.”
    “Pesta?” A faint ping sounded in my brain, alerting me that the name sounded familiar.
    His smile was infuriating. “That sounds like another question for Alrik.”
    I let out a noise of frustration. “It’s like you get off on being annoying. Do you have to be so difficult?”
    He scoffed. “Whatever. I’m a joy.”
    I had no words for this. No ladylike ones, anyway. “What about my phone? You’re just giving away my stuff now? Kill me off on paper, so my belongings are up for grabs? That phone is precious to me!” It had my brother’s voice on it, voicemails saved that were the last remnants of my other half. I think threatening with a knife was a reasonable path. I touched the heart on my necklace to remind myself that Linus was still mine.
    Jamie handed over my phone with a guilty expression weighing down his brown eyes and too-tall build. He touched his curly brown hair and stood straighter. “I’m sorry, Miss Lucy. I meant no disrespect.”
    I clutched the phone as if it was my lifeline, my ticket out of here. I took my anger at Jens and directed it at Jamie. “Don’t touch me or my stuff.”
    Jens sobered marginally. “It had to be done, Loos. We can’t have Pesta looking for you.”
    Anger I’d not properly suppressed made my voice rise to a shaky shout. I grabbed the glass of water next to the straw mattress and flung the rest of it in his face. “You erased me! Now no one will ever look for me!”
    Jens took a step toward me, but I held the empty glass up as if it was a menacing weapon. He respected the charade and held his hands up in surrender to my pain. “Alrik will make you understand. It was necessary to keep you alive.”
    “Dead on paper, alive in a smelly man cave.