Prince of Air and Darkness

by Jenna Black

  “There was a reason I wanted you to talk to her when you started getting such a hinky vibe from Hunter. What was happening to you, the way you felt like you were losing control of yourself, sounded suspiciously like how she describes her encounter with your father.”

  “You can’t possibly be taking that story seriously,” she protested, but not with the ferocity she would have just yesterday.

  “I also can’t help noticing that there’s a horseshoe on your door today. It wasn’t there yesterday, but today after you’ve found out Hunter told some big lies, you’ve put up a horseshoe. I can connect the dots with the best of them.”

  At first, Kiera couldn’t believe what she was hearing, so she waited a long moment for the words to rearrange themselves into a different message. Jackson couldn’t possibly be suggesting—without any prompting from her—that there was something fey about Hunter, or that Kiera had put a horseshoe on the door to keep the fey out. Yeah, he was more open-minded than she was about such things—having not grown up with her kooky mom—but that was taking open-mindedness a little too far. Wasn’t it?

  “What are you saying?” she asked.

  “I’m saying that if you want to tell me about whatever happened between you and Hunter last night, and it happens to involve a big dose of woo-woo that you’re afraid I won’t believe, you can go ahead and tell me. ‘There are more things in heaven and earth,’ etcetera, etcetera.”

  Kiera was overcome with a sudden urge to give Jackson a rib-squeezing hug. He was such a good friend. But the truth was probably a whole lot more woo-wooey than he was expecting.

  “You’re going to think I’ve gone completely insane.”

  “I promise to get you the best treatment money can buy. And I’ll make sure your straitjacket is in a much more flattering color than white.”

  She made a sound between a groan and a laugh, but she already knew Jackson was going to wear her down eventually. The truth was, she wanted to tell him, wanted him to have some clue what was going on. After all, if the minions of the Unseelie Court was going to be sniffing around her for the foreseeable future, it was possible Jackson could come into contact with them. She would never forgive herself if he got caught in the middle of this mess, but he’d probably be in infinitely more danger if he had no idea what was going on.

  And so, fighting herself every step of the way, Kiera told Jackson exactly what had happened last night and who Hunter really was.

  ****

  Kiera escaped the living room to make a pot of coffee while Jackson mulled over the plethora of bombshells she’d just dropped on him.

  He couldn’t possibly believe any of it, could he? Hell, she didn’t fully believe it, and she’d been there. She’d seen a dog turn into a man then back into a dog right before her eyes, and her rational mind was still hoping she’d find an explanation for it that didn’t include magic. Not that she actually thought that would happen.

  The coffee gurgled to a finish, and Kiera took her time with the cream and sugar, stalling because she wasn’t sure she could stand to walk back into the living room and face her best friend’s disbelief. But he had asked her for the story, and he’d claimed to be ready for the weirdness. It wasn’t her fault if the weirdness was more than he could stand.

  Jackson was right on the living room couch where she’d left him, and he accepted the mug she handed him with a smile that looked perfectly unforced.

  “Are you already mentally redecorating my room in the loony bin?” she asked as she plopped down on the sofa beside him. The coffee had sounded like a great idea when she’d run to the kitchen to make it, but the thought of adding caffeine to her system when she was already so edgy wasn’t terribly appealing.

  Jackson’s expression was thoughtful as he blew on his coffee and then took a sip. “I’ll admit, it all sounds too ridiculous to be true. But if someone as pragmatic and skeptical as you believes it, then I guess I have to believe it, too.”

  Or at least try to believe it. She was pretty sure trying was the best he could do at the moment, but she loved him for the effort.

  “Tell me something,” Jackson said, putting down his mug. “If Hunter revealed himself to be the fey version of the Antichrist last night, then what was he doing in your apartment when I got here?”

  Kiera leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. It was a good question, one she wasn’t sure she had a satisfactory answer for. “Because I’m out of my mind?”

  Jackson grinned. “That’s certainly one possible explanation.”

  She scowled at him but couldn’t muster a whole lot of ferocity.

  “The pheromones you two were giving off gave me a contact high,” Jackson continued, and Kiera’s eyes widened.

  “What pheromones?” she cried indignantly. “We reached something approaching is truce is all. I’m certainly not stupid enough to go all doe-eyed over him after what he did.”

  “No, of course not,” Jackson agreed too easily. “I’m sure what I sensed as raging attraction was just indifference. It’s so easy to confuse the two.”

  He’d picked up the coffee mug again, or she would have smacked him. “Knock it off, Jackson. There’s nothing funny about this, and it’s no time for teasing.”

  “Sorry,” he said, looking abashed. “Sometimes I just can’t help myself. But I meant what I said. The chemistry between the two of you was thick enough to eat with a spoon. You may be really pissed off at him, but you still want him, and he wants you something awful.”

  “He’s really good at pretending to want me.” She sounded sullen, but she couldn’t help it.

  Jackson shook his head. “He’s not pretending. You said it yourself: he had the chance to get you into bed last night, and he didn’t do it. That’s not the act of a man who is indifferent to you.”

  Never in a million years would she have guessed Jackson would take this particular stance. “Why aren’t you completely indignant about what he planned to do to me, like everyone else is? I’d have expected you to grab your torch and pitchfork and join the mob.”

  He thought about it a moment before answering. “I am completely indignant, and I’d love to kick his ass for it. He hurt you, and he deserves to be strung up by his toes for it. But the fact is, he didn’t do it. You’ve given lots of losers who’ve hurt you second, third, and fourth chances, and none of them deserved it. But my gut says maybe Hunter does.”

  Jackson met her gaze, looking dead serious, which was a rare expression for him. “From the first moment you told me about him, I could tell there was something different about this one. Something special. You want him, and he wants you. Why shouldn’t you take advantage of that?”

  Because it could so easily turn into something more, Kiera thought with a sinking heart. Last night’s revelations hadn’t lessened the pull Kiera felt when Hunter was around. She’d been drawn to him since the first time she’d laid eyes on him sitting on that bench in Rittenhouse Square. In some ways, the fact that she now had an explanation for the uneasy feelings he’d caused in her since the beginning made him more attractive, rather than less so.

  “Because I don’t want to risk getting pregnant with a child destined to rule over all of Faerie.”

  The look Jackson gave her told her he saw right through her. He knew her reasons for keeping her distance from Hunter had to do more with emotions than practicality. Luckily, he didn’t challenge her assertion.

  “There’s such a thing as birth control, you know,” Jackson said with exaggerated patience. “If you’re not sure you trust him not to tamper with condoms, then go on the pill. If you tell Hunter you’re on the pill and he still wants to get in your pants, then I’d say it’s a pretty good bet it’s you he wants, not the baby.”

  There was a certain logic to what Jackson was saying, Kiera had to admit. She hadn’t slept with a man in almost two years, and there was no denying how badly her body wanted her to end her long abstinence. It would be logical to worry that Hunter hadn’t given up
on his nefarious mission, but that was a worry easily taken care of.

  No, the danger of getting into Hunter’s bed was much more insidious than that, and Kiera would be a fool to ignore it.

  While Kiera was mulling over what Jackson had said and what she was feeling, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket. She frowned when he opened it up, then blushed when he pulled out a foil-wrapped condom.

  “I’m sure if you have any of these lying around, they’re long expired. And even if you go on the pill, it’ll take a while to start working.” He flapped the little package back and forth with his fingers. “You can be sure Hunter hasn’t tampered with this.”

  He tossed it to her, and she caught it more by reflex than because she wanted to.

  “I would have to be the world’s biggest idiot to sleep with Hunter after all this,” she said, but she heard the hint of longing in her own voice.

  “Or maybe there’s a reason you’re drawn to him despite everything you know. Maybe he’s The One.”

  Kiera rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.” Even her mom, the true believer, was beginning to have doubts. When Kiera had tentatively asked her last night about Alonso—the man her mom had so recently been certain was her soul mate—the awkward silence and averted gaze had told her instantly that she wouldn’t be having a new stepfather anytime soon.

  “I know,” Jackson said. “But I’m beginning to think I do. The energy between you and Hunter was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It has to mean something.”

  Yeah, it meant there was a ton of physical chemistry between her and Hunter. That did not mean he was The One, or that The One even existed.

  Jackson sat back in the couch, making himself comfortable and shrugging one shoulder. “Believe it or don’t believe it, whatever. If I’m right, you’ll end up in his bed one way or another, despite all the doubts. So make a doctor’s appointment and get a prescription. You should be prepared, just in case. I have been known to be right every once in a while.”

  Kiera gave him her best dirty look, but didn’t comment. She had a feeling going on the pill would remove one more objection and make it that much more likely she’d give in to a temptation she was sure was unhealthy and ill-advised.

  The best way to keep herself on the straight and narrow was to keep every objection in place, shored up and heavily guarded to keep temptation from getting the upper hand. So no doctor’s appointment for her, and as soon as Jackson left, she was going to toss the condom.

  Kiera wished the wise and practical decisions made her feel better than they did.

  Chapter 12

  Three days after her disastrous date with Hunter, Kiera walked out of her doctor’s office with a prescription for the pill. She was still convinced that sleeping with Hunter would be a gigantic mistake, but it turned out it was next to impossible to put her desires back to sleep now that he’d awakened them. She dreamt of him at night and woke up with an empty yearning in her belly. She told herself she didn’t believe Jackson’s suggestion that Hunter might be “The One,” but that didn’t stop her from mooning over him like a lovesick puppy.

  Hunter made a point of “running into” her at least once a day. It should have been creepy and made him feel like a stalker, only she knew why he was doing it. She never saw any sign that he was being watched, but she was sure he was. He was careful to engineer their meetings so they’d occur in public, and he was flamboyantly charming in a way she knew wasn’t really him. He even presented her with an enormous bouquet of flowers, acting his part of the charming rake. But there was a measure of hesitancy every time he approached her, like he was bracing himself for a rejection, and she found she missed his easy confidence.

  None of which was a good excuse for going on the pill, but Kiera had eventually convinced herself it couldn’t hurt. She felt Hunter’s pull every time she caught sight of him, and she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t someday give in to that pull. Better to be safe than sorry. Even if knowing she was safe made it that much more likely she’d eventually be sorry.

  It didn’t help that Jackson had now made getting her and Hunter together into his own personal mission. Sure, he’d interfered some in her love life before—usually trying to warn her the guy she was dating was a creep, and usually being ignored—but he’d never been quite this adamant before. It felt like he was constantly calling her to see if she’d jumped Hunter’s bones yet. It was really quite irritating—and it made sure that whenever Kiera’s mind climbed out of the gutter, it was shoved right back in again.

  ****

  Kiera knew something was up when Jackson showed up on her doorstep on Friday night with a paper grocery bag.

  “I’ve decided to learn how to cook,” he announced as he pushed past her into her apartment.

  She stood blinking in the doorway as he breezed into her kitchen without waiting for any reply. Her brow furrowed as she rolled his words around in her brain and failed to divine the meaning behind them.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, following him into the kitchen, where he was unpacking his groceries.

  “I should learn how to cook,” he said more slowly, like he was talking to an idiot. There was a twinkle in his eye that boded no good. “I decided one of the reasons I can’t seem to land a man is I can’t cook for shit. I know your dinner date with Hunter didn’t work out so well, but it got me thinking about how romantic it was to cook dinner for your lover.”

  Kiera shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Jackson was definitely up to something, but she wasn’t sure what. It was true he’d often lamented his lack of skill in the kitchen, but he’d never seemed motivated to do anything about it. She’d always had the impression he liked going out to eat too much to become the do-it-yourself type.

  “Shouldn’t you be learning to cook in your kitchen?” she asked quite reasonably.

  He smirked at her as he opened a package of ground beef then started searching through her cabinets until he found a mixing bowl. “Since I never cook, I don’t have the equipment.” He dug a measuring cup out of a drawer, used it to measure out some breadcrumbs, then dumped them in the bowl with the meat. Whatever he was planning to cook, it wasn’t exactly haute cuisine.

  “And you’re not planning to buy the equipment? You’re going to bring your boyfriends to my place to cook them dinner?” She peeked into the grocery bag and saw a box of spaghetti, a couple cans of tomatoes, and some veggies.

  “I thought I’d find out if it was a lost cause before I made a substantial investment.” He frowned theatrically. “Besides, I didn’t want to get cat hair in the food.”

  On the surface, Jackson’s explanation almost made sense. Except he was throwing together his ingredients without the benefit of a recipe, and when he started chopping garlic, he seemed perfectly at home using a knife. Of course, it didn’t take a master chef to cook spaghetti.

  “You mean to tell me you’re going to branch out into the brave new world of cooking, and you’re going to start with spaghetti and meatballs?”

  He gave her an innocent look as he dug his bare hands into the meat mixture and started blending everything together. “I could have tried beef Wellington, but that seemed a little ambitious for a first time out.”

  “You know I’m not buying any of this. What are you really up to?”

  “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you really going to look a free, homemade meal in the mouth?”

  She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest mulishly. “How good can it be if you’ve never cooked before in your life?” He was rolling meatballs like a pro, each one coming out perfectly round and exactly the same size—something Kiera had never been able to manage herself. He might not make a habit of cooking, but she’d wager he was no stranger to this particular recipe.

  His smile was sly. “Trust me, it’ll be good.”

  “I trust you about as far as I can throw you,” she muttered darkly.

&nb
sp; Jackson just ignored that, washing his hands and starting to put the sauce ingredients together. There was no way he was doing this to hone his cooking skills, but for the life of her, she couldn’t guess what was behind the charade. She resisted the urge to ask more questions. She had a feeling she was going to find out what he was up to sooner than she liked anyway.

  The spaghetti was on and boiling, the perfectly browned meatballs simmering in the fragrant tomato sauce, when Kiera’s doorbell rang. She jumped like a startled cat, but Jackson’s face wore another of those sly smiles. The kind that said he’d been expecting the doorbell to ring.

  “Who the hell is that?” Kiera asked, but the high, almost screechy tone in her voice said she had a good inkling already.

  Jackson surveyed his handiwork. “Well, I might have dropped off a note for Hunter inviting him to dinner tonight,” he said, stirring the sauce as his smile broadened. “I might even have given him the impression the note was from you and that you were going to try to erase the bad memory of last week’s dinner.”

  Kiera’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “You didn’t!”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “If I killed you right now, it would be justifiable homicide.”

  Jackson just smirked at her. “Are you going to answer the door?”

  Kiera seriously considered sitting down and refusing to budge, but Jackson would let Hunter in anyway, and he’d probably find a way to make the situation even more awkward and uncomfortable than it already was.

  Face warm with a combination of anger and embarrassment, Kiera stomped off toward the door and flung it open. She must have looked even more ferocious than she felt, for Hunter’s eyes widened and he took a hasty step backward when he saw her face.

  Kiera’s face flamed even hotter. It wasn’t Hunter’s fault that Jackson had taken it upon himself to play matchmaker. She shouldn’t take her anger out on him.

  “Come on in,” she said, baring her teeth in what she hoped resembled a smile. “You remember Jackson, don’t you?” She waved her hand at the kitchen as Hunter crossed her threshold. “My former best friend?”