Who Are You - Ellie and Adam Robinson

If Mama and Da find out Ellie’s here, she’s going to be grounded forever. She tugs self-consciously at the skirt of the green dress Catherine loaned her. When she showed up in her blouse and embroidered skirt, the fanciest clothes she owns, Cath took one look and told her she’d stick out in the club scene like a sore thumb.
She didn’t let go of her bracelet. The chips of purple and green fluorite are enchanted to help protect her, from spells or people that mean her harm. And hopefully, also keep her from being easily recognized as fae. She’s never tested that magic before, it’s the first time she’s woven it into anything she made.
She’s supposed to be staying with Cath at her house. Not sneaking into a sketchy nightclub. Even though the fae riots have mostly died down, Da doesn’t like the idea of her being out in the city at all. It took a lot of persuading from both her and Mama to even get him to agree she could spend a night with Cath.
I’m seventeen and I’ve never spent a night anywhere but my home or on camping trips with my family. Ellie just wants to feel normal.
Not that she is. She’s going to have to watch her back tonight. These places are dangerous even for humans, but for fae it’s even more of a risk. Ellie’s not going around advertising the fact that she’s half-fae, but it’s always possible someone could notice. And she’s heard the horror stories of the things that unscrupulous people will slip into unsuspecting fae’s drinks.
But still, when Cath suggested this, she’d jumped at the chance. This is what humans do. They take risks and do crazy things and live in the moment.
It’s what being fae feels like it’s supposed to be. But everyone’s so scared. She feels trapped, confined and caged. They’ve spent months staying close to Rowan House, only Mama venturing outside the glamour to bring back supplies and news from the outside world, when the fae riots were at their worst.
She doesn’t like being afraid. And she doesn’t want to be afraid anymore. Even if that’s just for one night.
She has her limits, though, and when Cath orders herself an alcoholic cocktail at the bar, (her glamoured ID is really just a formality, but Cath enjoys using her magic for mundane things like that), Ellie settles for a lemonade with some chili and a bit of ginger.
This bar clearly caters to a more magical crowd. Ellie can see several people with spelled-ink tattoos, and the woman singing on stage definitely has some Sirensong in her blood. Like Second Sight, it’s somewhat rare, but follows family lines almost exclusively.
Now that she’s here, she’s not sure what to do. She’s not nearly as good at dancing as her mother, and besides, the music here isn’t anything she’s familiar with. She’s used to twirling around the living room at the Rowan to folksy music, in oversize scarves and long skirts, or dancing a swift reel to Da’s piping. Here, everyone’s wearing miniskirts and leather jackets, stomping the floor in heavy-heeled boots, and the music pounding out of the speakers is almost deafening.
She decides to stick with Cath, make sure nothing bad happens to her. Cath is making her way to a table with some leather-vested guy with spiked blue hair and spelled-ink sleeves on both arms. The hair might be a glamour, but the ink definitely isn’t.
She turns around when she hears a commotion near the bar. A guy with black eyes and a scowl is leaning over a woman who looks panicked. Her hand is going to her beaded purse, at least until the guy grabs her wrist and pins it to the wooden bar. Tendrils like branches snake around her arm, keeping her pinned.
Ellie recognizes a predator when she sees one. The fae are no inherently kinder than any of the natural world. Like wolves and hawks, there are fae who prey on the weaker. They call it nature. Humans call it cruelty. And right now, Ellie’s human side is screaming at her that this is wrong.
No one else is doing anything. Ellie starts forward, just as a young man with reddish-brown hair and a brown leather jacket that has some kind of animal embroidered on it jumps up from a table. He swings something at the woman’s attacker, who howls and leaps back, clutching his arm.
He turns to run, but Ellie drops to one knee, presses a hand to the floor, and lets a ripple of her magic flow through the ground underfoot. Tables shake, glasses fall with smashes, and a few bottles topple off the shelves behind the bar. And the fleeing man goes down hard.
The guy in the brown jacket is on him in seconds, pulling something that clatters metallically from his belt, then handcuffing the man’s hands behind him. Two more people, clad in similar jackets, burst through the front door.
Hunters. Ellie’s heard the stories of the elite law enforcement operators that deal with supernatural crime. Ostensibly, their main role is to bring down rogue vampires, but when the riots started, they began dealing with fae as well. Which is probably why this man is here now.
If hunters are about to raid the place, she and Cath need to get out. They can’t be caught here.
Ellie’s turning to run when a warm hand catches her own wrist.
She turns to look into bright grey eyes partially hidden by the now-messy reddish hair.
“Thanks for stopping that guy. I thought I was gonna lose him.” She blinks. His voice, with just a bit of a warm southern drawl, is far too disarming for someone she knows is carrying an iron knife. “Who are you?”