Free The Earl's Childe by T. J. Wooldridge Page A

not.
    That was the good choice, right? I hoped. I could make him good if I were good.
    Even as I thought that, another hideous thought ate its way into my mind like a toothy, parasitic worm.
    If I could turn the kelpie good, could he turn me bad?
    I jumped back away from him. He started at my leap. No, no, no , I thought to myself, not even sure if I was hiding my thoughts anymore. No, it was my soul that he shared. I didn’t have a piece of his.
    Right?
    Really, I had no freaking clue how that magickal bridle worked. That was the only thing I knew for sure.
    â€œErmie…?” My voice rasped and cracked from the stupid tears I still felt running down my cheeks.
    Yes, Heather? His voice in my head was just as wary, concerned. His whole posture communicated that he wanted some reassurance, because my posture and actions had him anxious.
    â€œYou…you told me I-I influenced your actions and choices, that you’re—you’re compelled to act like me. But, what about you and me? Would you influence me? Make me want t-to…” I swallowed hard. “Hurt…people?” Kill people? added my mind, which he would likely pick up. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered despite the brief warmth from the morning sun peeking between clouds.
    His posture relaxed some and he lowered his head, licking his lips and chewing. He was thinking.
    We who are of the fey…do not have souls , he finally said. There was nothing for you to take when you gave me a piece of your soul but my absolute obedience . Shifting weight from one of his hind legs to the other, sticking out his angular hip, he licked some more. But you have access to my thoughts, my emotions. More or less. You have not tried to pry . The emotions I felt in my head were appreciation of me not prying. As far as I understand—and I prefer not to interact at length with others—knowing anyone has its influences. For better or worse. But there is nothing in the soul spell that would compel you to act…as I would . He shifted his hips again, then added, Would have acted .
    â€œAs you would if anyone ever took off the bridle?” I asked in a small voice.
    Very likely, aye .
    I sighed, still hugging myself, and tried to make sense of his explanation. Basically, he had no soul of his own to give, so there was nothing that should make me want to be mean or angry or hurt people. But just knowing him would obviously change me——like knowing any of my friends. Well, the whole two of my friends. Knowing Joli, I knew what it was like to find ways to avoid fights with people who would always hate you. She’d made me cleverer in dealing with the girls at school. And I didn’t have to think hard to realize how knowing Joe had changed me. He’d made me more aware of things in the world, things like racism…and made me braver and more daring. Smarter.
    I missed them both so much, right now. And I couldn’t talk to either of them. Joli was traveling with her dads in France. Joe was with his mother’s family in Bahrain, practically the other side of the world.
    Who would I become because I knew Ermie? Knew Tom? If Tom ever talked to me again, that is.
    Ermie made a coughing sound and stretched out his neck. When he caught my eye—with his glowing version of my own eyes—he hedged. The cat fey. He ran from your castle, and I could smell his terror. And you. You ran out here, to me, with more fear in you than when we first met. When I would have happily killed you and the prince. More fear than when you faced me, knowing I would kill to defend myself from this magick . He rubbed his bridle on his leg and stared at me. While he didn’t outright ask, he wanted to know what great danger there was—what danger worse than himself.
    I looked away with a sniffle, and then my shivering began to turn into shakes. I didn’t want to say. I didn’t want to think what I was thinking. To acknowledge