I give full credit to Julie Kagawa for the writing of The Iron King. I just wonder what would happen if my character, who you will meet, would make the same decisions and where this will lead her. I say I wonder because, see, I just created her to make someone who will make different choices… And now must build up character and then have her make decisions because of this.

Every other character, except new ones she may meet due to her reactions, will be the same in the book. Ethan, the mom, Oberon, ect and their supposed relationships to her.

Forgive me for being a loon… And for the painful similarities in the beginning. I mean, she has the same backstory… But I shall do my best to give her a different voice.

And yes, I'm mimicking her style on purpose. So forgive me for that, too.

Warning: Blatant plagiarism at parts. I won't even pretend to claim it's mine. And Emileigh is different from Meghan. It will become more apparent as we go on. I feel like making this clear because I don't want to annoy the shit out of ya'll by not warning you. So. Yay me.

CHAPTER ONE

Technology Gone Wild

When I was six, my dad performed a magic trick… And I'm pretty sure he didn't mean to. See. When I was six… My dad disappeared.

Not the running off or dying or any of those mundane shenanigans of modern times. And if he had then, damn, way to disappear in a few minutes and leave your kid scared and alone at the park. On her birthday.

If that ended up being the case, I'd just have to suck it up, cry a bit in silence, and then become a storm of bitter resentment and rebellious rage.

Thing is, I thought he had decided to play hide and seek. I looked for him, giggling and dripping a creamsickle all over the place. After a while though, I started to get scared. And I started to call out for him and when that didn't work I began to cry. And then mom decided to come get us and freaked out and, well, it all went down from there.

Oh no, poor me, I'm going to dissolve into a self-pitying mess. Not. Mom moved to start over, which was weird since she actually had so much trouble getting us down to this little hick town and even more trouble with suspicious townspeople. Then she remarried and, while people were still a little grouchy, I clearly remember one old lady giving us a basket of fruits.

And then. Ten years later… Hell came down on us like that cliché saying 'white on rice.'

MY NAME IS EMILEIGH CHASE.

Tomorrow, in other words, very soon, I will be turning sixteen.

You know, that magical time when girls become women and dance away with their prince in shining armor and noble knights and then have thousands of little babies and everyone cheers and screams and craps butterflies.

Yes, well, I was very against that happening to me.

I happen to be one of those people who find happily ever after unsatisfying unless they work tooth and nail for it. The kind of person who wants to watch them suffer for their happiness and fight for their love and won't go down without kicking and screaming and ripping their enemies to shred.

I knew quite a few people who found this a little disturbing. When I told my mom this, she asked me if I was being bullied. Oh well, for each her own, I guess.

The morning before my birthday, I decided I'd look better than usual. Why? Because. I was becoming a woman. Even if I didn't want the cliché ole Disney movie as a story, I still wanted to look a little better than usual for this occasion. I guess there was a girly girl somewhere deep inside me and I had to let her out every now and then.

Of course, I opened my closet and there wasn't many things to choose from. Cargo pants, cargo shorts, camouflage, hand-me-downs, and overalls.

This was one of those moments where I wished jeans would magically appear in my wardrobe and a fairy godmother popped up, popped in a cigar, and told me:

"They'll turn into washrags at six, toots, be back before then."

I didn't ask for much.

However, I got even less than what I asked for so I threw on some of my newer clothing, tied my sneakers extra tightly, and, after brushing my hair and realizing the static was absolutely effin insane, crammed it into a sloppy bun.

Luke, my stepfather, wasn't the most exciting person in the world. He was sitting in his chair, reading the newspaper ("Five-Legged Calf Born on Patterson's Farm," oh wow), with Ethan sitting in his lap, attempting to feed his stuffed rabbit and imaginary friend, Floppy.

That rabbit, I swear, sometimes creeped me out. There was something off about it. And how much Ethan loved it and talked to it and the things it told him, while not mean or anything, were just creepy. Then again, Ethan was smart for his age.

He was also spoiled. But we got lucky. He ended up being spoiled sweet instead of rotten… kinda like good wine I guess. It was also a plus he was cuter than a puppy with large blue eyes and little brown curls. I sometimes wished I had cute brown hair but I got stuck with straight and blonde and staticky.

"Where's Mom?" I asked, raiding the cabinets for something I liked. Nothing but fiber squares and marshmallow cereals. Sighing, I picked the lesser of two evils and fixed myself a bowl of whatever nasty cereal my brother loved.

At least it was chocolate.

Luke still hadn't answered and, when I looked over to check if he heard me, he was zoned out with Ethan now sneezing and spraying Pop-Tart crumbs everywhere. Yum. "Where's Mom?" I repeated, a bit more impatient.

Luke looked up, slowly blinking, before meeting my gaze. "Oh, hello, Emy. I didn't hear you coming in." He took his time to pause and check on Ethan before asking, "What did you ask?"

I sighed and repeated it. Again.

This time, I got the answer, "She had a meeting with some of the ladies at church." He turned back to his paper, beginning to zone out. "She won't be back for a few hours so you'll have to take the bus."

Of course I would. Always did, whether she was here or not. I had just wanted to remind her we were getting my learner's permit this weekend. I couldn't tell Luke, he was already lost in the newspaper… And probably wouldn't remember after I left. I didn't hate Luke and he wasn't a cruel stepfather. In fact, he wasn't even all that dumb. He just always looked dully surprised to see me every time I spoke.

It made me feel like an interloper.

Just as I started to mope, Beau, our german shepherd, came in and placed his big head on my lap. Relaxing, I twisted my fingers into his fur and began to pet him, using my free hand to shovel in slightly soggy kid cereal.

I was almost finished when Luke stood up, gently placing Ethan back in the seat. "All right, big guy," he paused to kiss Ethan on the forehead like a good father. "Dad has to fix the bathroom sink, so you sit here and be good. When I come back, we'll go feed the pigs, alright?"

Ethan swung his legs cutely and replied, "Kay. Floppy wants to see if Ms. Daisy has had her babies yet."

I couldn't even be creeped out at the mention of the bunny due to Luke's nauseatingly proud smile. It was sweet enough to give my diabetes, I swear.

Deciding to test my stepfather, I nonchalantly said, "Bet you don't know what tomorrow is," as I cleaned up my bowl.

He didn't even turn around. Eh. I had tried. "I don't know, Meg, if you have plans for tomorrow, talk to your mother." He snapped his fingers and Beau gave me a guilty look before licking my hand and wandering off after him. I listened forlornly to his pawsteps disappearing up the stairs before turning to face my little brother.

Ethan had on his strangely wise look. It made him look like he'd seen the world and it was kinda creepy, but I still loved him. "I know," he said softly, placing leftover Pop-Tart on the table. "Tomorrow's your birthday, isn't it? Floppy told me and I remembered."

Mom thought it was sweet when he said things like this. But, see, she also didn't have dreams of the rabbit coming out of Ethan's room, scythe in hand, eyes gleaming red, and laughing manically as it forces everyone into frilly outfits and making us dance the polka.

I realized I was strange. And had a wild imagination and even worse subconscious but that was okay because I would be the one prepared when crazy things started going down.

And then I would laugh at them all.

"Floppy says to tell you happy early birthday."

Floppy says a lot of things. However, I kept this comment to myself and, instead, opted to give his hair a good ole ruffling and heading into my room to grab my stuff. Including my iPod.

And it was mine because Luke thought technology was evil and I had to save up to buy it so Mom could not take it away and if she even tried I'd go ninja on her. Or at least, I liked to pretend I would.

I happened to catch sight of my watch and almost had a heart attack. It took ten minutes to get to the stop and I would be running a little late even if I ran there now. Looking out the window, I noticed the gray clouds of storms to come and grabbed a jacket. Black. Nice and warm, too.

"Emy?" My eyes slid over to Ethan, noticing him clutching the rabbit plushie tighter than usual, blue eyes somber. "Can I go with you today?"

I hated when he gave me that look. "You can't go to school with me, Ethan, we've been over this already. High school isn't for four year olds."

I turned away to avoid looking at those puppy dog eyes and felt his little arms wrap around my legs. I sighed and got ready to snap at him when I met pleading eyes and a set jaw. "Please?"

No. No, no, no, no, no. You can't start this right now.

"I'll be good, I promise. Take me with you? Just for today?"

Why did he have to be so cute? I hoped he used his powers for good instead of evil when he grows up. Because if he didn't, I'd have to get onto him and it's just so hard to when he turns those big blue eyes up at you. I picked him up to stall. "What's wrong, Ethan?"

"Scared." He buried his face in the crook of my neck and I felt myself giving in, smoothing out his hair.

Argh, I tried to be a hardass and then my kid brother comes and I'm, like, all puppies and rainbows. I needed to work on that. "What are you scared of?" I continued gently, not letting my inner frustrations slip out.

He shook his head. "Floppy's scared."

Again with the rabbit.

I gave the plushie an evil look and, with a sigh, asked, 'What is Floppy scared of?"

"The man in the closet."

A chill crawled up my spine but I forced the anxiety back. After all, Ethan was still only four. And he talked to a stuffed rabbit (but I had my suspicions about Floppy). He also happened to believe in monsters and bogeyman and had always come to me with these problems.

In fact, I'm not sure if Mom even knew about his scares.

Then I heard the thunder and realized my walk to the bus was already ruined, why not go check in his closet? I didn't release him and simply began to head into his room, "Let's go check for monsters."

His grip on me tightened and I moved him to one arm, using the other to fish around for the flashlight in his drawer. Of course, I had to put him down to check and did just that. I looked under the bed and in the closet, reassuring Ethan that there were no monsters.

"You think we're good now?" He nodded, giving me a cute (but small) smile. I walked out with him, about to close the door, when I saw the hat.

A bowler's hat.

I'm not entirely sure why, but I blamed the bunny.

And then I remember the time and freaked out, sprinting like there was a fire to make it out the door, slinging my bag over one shoulder and racing to the bus stop like a mad woman who used too many similes when panicking.

DESPITE HOW FAST I HAD been running, I was still soaked to the bone when I made it to the stop. It was late spring and I would've found it prettier if I wasn't so uncomfortable but, as we know, wet clothing irritates the skin after a while.

After I calmed enough not to rip my clothing off and shake like a wet dog, I realized Robbie wasn't here yet. My first thought was that the bus had left but then I realized it was Robbie. He probably had just decided not to come to school. Lucky.

That got me thinking about my birthday again. Robbie was an oddball prankster so he probably had something big planned. Something crazy and probably also enchanting. On my last birthday, he took me to this beautiful glen and we had a picnic… But I hadn't found it again. And, damn, I had scoured the woods for that place.

Rustling made me mind jump to weird places where horrors were real and Floppy was chasing me with a knife. So, stiffening, I convinced myself it was probably just a wild animal trying to stay dry. And then I made up a scenario where a fox had constantly tried to seek shelter only to be chased away by squirrels and such and finally fou—

A branch snapped, closer to me than the rustling. I shifted, deciding the fox was actually a raccoon and a mole or something had bit its toes until it left the bush.

Where the hell was the bus?

Time seemed to slow down and I became more and more paranoid as the silence of the woods hit me. No more shuffling. No more cracking. But then I had known something was there and where it was. Plus, I felt like I was being watched.

With a deep breath, I turned, not sure what to expect, and caught the green eyes of an enormous black bird.

And then something grabbed me.

My scream could probably be honed and used as a weapon, making men beg for it to stop as they clutched their ears and spilled out their darkest secrets because, damn, my ears were ringing from it—Oh wait, murderers and kidnappers and… Wait.

There was suspiciously familiar sounding laughter coming from behind me.

He was so dead.

I turned around to see my best friend, Robbie Goodfell, and total jerk, practically suffocating himself with laughter. He stopped for a minute, then looked at my face, and then cracked up again.

"You are the most idiotic, preposterous, cruel, and a bunch of other nasty words jerk I have ever met! God, Robbie, you almost killed me! What if I had a heart attack and fallen to the ground in a twitchy fit." I paused to give him my angriest glare. "Oh wait. You'd still be laughing, I almost forgot."

"S-sorry, princess," he managed to gasp out, now trying to calm down. "It was just too perfect." My glare did not leave as he straightened. "Man, you have to admit, that was impressive. You must've jumped at least three fee—"

"Shut up, Robbie, or I'm sending my minions after you." I turned away with a huff, "And what have I told you about the princess thing? You know how I feel about that."

Hell, even when I was ten, I still raged at him for it.

He was just annoying like that.

"So, stop calling me that."

"Sure thing, princess."

I rolled my eyes. "If I'm a princess, than what are you supposed to be?"

With a wicked grin, he slid an arm around my shoulder and replied, "Why, that's an easy one, I'm the court jester, spreading laughter and wreaking havoc everywhere I go."

Wow. He had no trouble with that one at all. "Fine, oh fool of the court, you must obey my every whi—Hey!" He laughed and I glowered at him. Git wanted to play that? I kicked water back at him and pretty soon we were both covered in mud and that was when the bus decided to show up.

We were forced to sit in the back. Yay us.

"What are you doing after school?" Robbie asked. I decided to ignore my ever-so-defiant 'jester' and attempted to listen to the surrounding conversations. "Wanna grab a coffee later? Or we could sneak in the theater and see a movie."

I wrung out my shirt before replying, "Not today, Rob. I've got things to do, people to see, places to be—"

"And what are these things?" He asked, eyes glittering with mirth.

Very primly, like the lady I was, I replied, "I must tutor a poor wayward fellow who is wasting his youth away by vanishing into the abyss of materialism."

Even my careful phrasing didn't stop Robbie's eyes from narrowing. Couldn't say I hadn't tried. "And who is this wayward fellow?" I ignored him to look out the window but that seemed to make the situation worse. "Who is it, Emileigh?"

Awe, he had to go and use my name. "Scott Waldron."

"What?" Oh, look. Now he was gonna go and get all mad. "The jockstrap? Why? Does he need you to teach him how to read?"

Now that was just mean. "Don't be jealous." I teased.

Then Robbie had to take it seriously. I hated when he got in these moods. "Oh, of course. I'm jealous. Because I've always wanted the IQ of a rock. No wait. Now I'm insulting the rock."

I had seen enough. I rose an eyebrow and said, "Robbie, don't be an idiot. You and I both know how I feel about Scott and it is definitely not a crush. And even if I did have a crush, it would be none of your business." I gave him a fierce look and he turned away, muttering unintelligibly under his breath. Ugh, I hated arguing with him but sometimes he was just too protective.

SCHOOL DRAGGED BY AND I began to feel guilty about my fight with Robbie. It wasn't like he was a ragefest for no reason, Scott did have a bad reputation and I could understand where he had been coming from. It was still a stupid reason, but not all reasons could be for the sake of the universe.

When I got to the computer room, I noticed how he was sitting and scowled. He was trying to show off his chest, had both feet up on another chair, and alluded a 'better-than-everyone-look-at-me' kind of aura.

Might as well get this over with.

I then realized the chair his feet were on was supposed to be mine. I cleared my throat to get his attention but he ignored me a while before I stepped in front of him and gave him my best teacher look.

This time, his head jerked up before turning into a lazy stare. Why thank you for finally noticing, now get your feet off my chair. Instead of saying this, though, I said, "I'm here to tutor you and that's kinda my chair so do you mind moving your feet?"

I got a blank stare in reply.

And then he removed his headphones.

"Sorry, babe," I ground my teeth at the word. Robbie could get away with calling me princess but only because I'd known him for so long. I did not want anything to do with Scott and his 'sexy' drawl. He worked it too hard if you asked me. He then gave me a once over and smirked.

A once over. And smirked.

What a total asshole.

"Are you supposed to be my tutor?"

Already fraying my patience, he was. I should go Yoda on him. See if he liked my geek talk as much as he appeared to like my looks, the superficial creep. "As stated before, yes. Emileigh Chase."

He continued to smirk at me. "Aren't you that hick girl who lives out in the swamp? Do you even know what a computer is?"

"Yes. But it seems you don't." I sassed, giving him a disdainful look. He gave me a bored, slightly annoyed one in return. I was about ready to show him how to use a computer and give him some more sassing when it flickered on by itself.

And then words scrolled across the screen. It was creepy. And I found myself blaming Floppy. I always blamed Floppy. But really. The words were: Emileigh Chase. We see you. We're coming for you.

Mixed with the nightmares, this was just too much. I mean, I'd thought he was evil since Ethan first found him at Goodwill. So, you know, of course I'd blame him. The words also filled up the screen and kept going, so the sense of doom just kept getting worse.

Scott leaned back in his seat, giving me his stupid jock glare like this was my fault. Yes. Because I'm touching the keyboard. And I also like to freak myself out. Real brilliant. "How are you doing this, freak?" I opened my mouth to retort when the screen blanked.

And then it read: SCOTT WALDON PEEKS AT GUYS IN THE SHOWER ROOM, ROFL.

Oh great. Like I need the jock's hate.

And then, with horror, I realized that message spread to everyone around us.

Great. I was now Scott's social enemy number one. "You think that's funny, swamp girl? Do you?" Nope. Not at all. Can you not see how pale my face is right now, you pompous dickwad? "Just wait. I'll show you funny. You just dug your own grace, bitch."

He stormed out the room as everyone cheered and gave me thumbs up. I felt kind of sick. And then the computer flickered off and I wanted to punch the computer.

And then I saw a creepy black thing. It looked emaciated, like it hadn't eaten in months, and had huge bat ears with long, thin arms and eerie green eyes. It grinned, teeth glowing blue, and scampered off.

It took a minute to sink in. And then I paled and fled the room, unsure if I had been hallucinating or if I had seen something more horrifying than my imagination could make up.

In fact, I was still running down the hall when I passed Robbie. He started out with "Hey, princess" and ended with, "Hey, where are you going?" After I slowed down to let him catch up, I realized he was right beside me. "That great of a session, eh?"

"Absolutely wonderful." I spat. "So wonderful, I could die tonight and be happy. Actually, how about you kill me so I don't, you know, get disappointed tomorrow or something when life comes crashing down?"

His expression suggested he contemplated on teasing me as he was still grinning, "I could say I told you so—" The sheer amount of murder in my eyes was probably enough to tell him that maybe a joke wasn't the best idea. "—but I won't. Because…" He fought back laughter and tried to keep a straight. "That would be wrong."

"Go ahead and laugh, you git." He was smart. He kept his face expression as almost-straight-but-obviously-amused. "What were you doing here, anyway? Stalking me? I already told you I wasn't interested in the jerk."

He coughed, face expression changing to a more neutral one as he took a sip of root beer. I gave him a look and he pulled out another one, holding out his peace offering.

I accepted it, opened it, and took a big swig out of it before pointing out, "You still haven't answered, Rob. Don't think you get away that easily."

He then brightened, "Hey, I was wondering, what are you doing for your birthday tomorrow?"

Nice cover up, I thought sarcastically, taking a sip. "I don't know. I bet ya mom and dad both forgot and the only ones who seems to remember is Floppy and Ethan. Floppy. I swear that bunny gets creepier every time I think about it. He's four and it still talks to him."

He laughed, "Don't tell me you never had imaginary friends, princess." I shot him a nasty look and pointed my opened root beer bottle at him menacingly. "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone for now…" He grinned. "I swiped a bottle of champagne from the cabinet." He waggled his eyebrows to add to the effect. "How about we celebrate it in style?"

I thought a flat "What" sufficed. But then decided to elaborate, "And when did I start drinking? Because I don't remember ever say—"

"Relax, princess." He teased, "Just a little won't kill you."

I glared at him and he continued to smile. I sighed. "Fine. But I'm only trying a sip. And only because now you've gone and made me curious." I eyed him with distrust, "You aren't going to slip something in my drink to make me 'forget' everything that happens, right?"

His expression faltered but then he laughed, "Like a date rape drug? Why, princess, who knew you thought of things like that?" He placed a hand on my shoulder, "I promise not to attempt rape on your birthday, princess. Though any time after that… Not so sure. I live in the now, you know."

I pushed his hand off and rolled my eyes, but my lips still twitched up into a smile. "You are such a dork." He continued to walk with me and I slipped into a kind of depression without noticing.

Robbie noticed.

He stopped us, head tilting. "You okay, princess?"

What could I tell him? That I was seeing bogeymen, computers were trying to take over my life, and that I was pretty much losing my mind? Nope. I'd get no sympathy from him. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say he was the reason these things were happening.

"Just tired." I shrugged and gave him a halfsmile. "Tomorrow's a big day, you know, got to be fully prepared for it. Be ready for a full on rockout tomorrow. We're going to have to defeat evil overlords' in the ass. And then, for good measure, make them do the polka."

His eyes lit up. "The polka?"

I nodded. "The polka."

He laughed, affectionately messing up my hair. "Well, see you then, princess. I'll be sure to wear my Robin Hood hat if you'll be my Lady Marian."

I smacked his arm but he won a laugh. But then my mirth vanished when I realized I'd be sitting out in the rain for a half hour. And then riding home with mom. And when she finally pulled up, the front seat was filled with crap so I had to get into the back.

"Emy, you're sopping wet!" Yep. Glad you noticed. It's the newest fashion, you know. "Don't sit on the upholstery—get a towel or something. Didn't you pack un umbrella?"

Why yes. Yes I did. It's why I'm soaked to the bones. However, I kept my snark to myself and used a few old newspapers to put something between her precious seats and my rain-drenched behind.

While trying to figure out where people got the notion I looked like mom, I remembered my earlier question this morning. "We are still getting my permit this weekend, right, Mom?"

She sighed. That wasn't a good sign. "I don't know… I've got a lot of work this week and your father wants me to help him fix the barn. Maybe next week."

"Not to sound rude, but could you call him Luke for me? I don't like replacing dad."

"Emileigh, please, I've had a long day." It was a simple request, I failed to see how this was so tiring. It was then, by looking into the rearview mirror, that I noticed just how red mom's eyes were. Had she been crying?

"Mom, did… Did something happen?" I tried to be careful. Mom didn't cry easily and I was probably already on thin ice if it was recent.

She hesitated for so long I thought she wasn't going to explain. Then, she finally said, "There was an… accident at home." I wasn't sure why but this made my stomach twist. "Your fa—Luke. Luke had to take Ethan to the hospital the afternoon." She stopped here to blink rapidly and for a minute, I was in blind panic.

Ethan was hurt? Why? How? Had there really been a man in his closet? Had I left him to get hurt just because I had been in a rush to get—

My thoughts were cut off by her next words. "Beau attacked him."

"What?" I couldn't believe that. I was much more willing to believe radioactive alien spiders had come down and tried to eat him than Beau, our gentle herding dog, had done anything of the sort. Hell, Ethan used to stick his head in Beau's mouth and Beau would take it and sometimes just back up or headbutt him away.

Mom continued as if I hadn't just shouted. "Ethan's going to be okay. Very shaken up, but nothing too bad."

"What happened? W… why did Beau attack him?"

I still couldn't imagine it. I was now thinking that maybe Floppy had finally given up his masquerade to frame out precious dog so then no one could blame him for a failed attempt at killing my brother.

Mom shook her head, completely oblivious to my inner thoughts. "I don't know. Luke saw Beau run up the stairs, and then heard Ethan screaming. When he got to his room, he found the dog dragging Ethan across the floor. His face was badly scratched and there were bite marks on his arms."

Oh my God.

I pictured little Ethan. And how terrified he was. But I still couldn't picture Beau doing that. "A-are you sure it was Beau? How do we know he wasn't protecting Ethan?"

Mom pressed her lips together and I watched her eyes focus on the road. My blood ran cold.

"Mom. What's going to happen to Beau?"

Her eyes filled with tears and I found that I wanted to cry, too. I already knew what she was going to say before it came out. "We can't have a dangerous dog running around, Emy."

No.

"If Ethan asks, tell him we found Beau another home." She gripped the steering wheel harder as I tried not to let the tears building up in my eyes out. "It's for the safety of the family, Emileigh. Don't blame your fa—Luke. But, after Luke brought Ethan home, he took Beau to the pound."