“No, the Division was there—”
“But we got there first, and we’re here,” Jag cut in. He didn’t let her argue, for he was used to taking the things he wanted, the foremost being women. Never had he had a chance to kiss a Human. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.
So, he did what he wanted to. He kissed her.
Faith was surprised, for at first she was frozen beneath his mouth, rigid in his hands. And then, just when her prickly, motionless exterior melted, she pulled away, muttering, “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” Around the metal dot in her nose, her cheeks were flushed.
Jag wondered how easy it would be to make the rest of her flush in that way. He would be more than happy to kiss the other parts of her body…as his mind wandered, his ears turned as he noticed they weren’t exactly alone.
Leaning against the side of his dwelling, arms crossed, Light stood with a scowl. These ridiculous Elves and their taboos, Jag thought with slight irritation. His eyes squinted, their blueness hidden by shadows. “I see you’ve gotten to know each other well,” he remarked dryly, glaring first at Jag—mostly at Jag—and then at Faith.
And then, Jag noticed how she smoothed down her hair, how she coughed and acted nonchalant even though a kiss like that would’ve sent any woman in his tribe wild with wanting. How her gaze met with Light’s and didn’t turn away. Though Jag did not know her, he felt a small pang of jealousy.
Did this girl have feelings for Light? It didn’t really matter. Light hated Humans. Once she realized this, he would stand there with open arms and hopefully, eventually, finally learn what mating with a Human was like. What did their bodies look like, without all the fur? Plus, their ears…
Everything that Light hated about the Humans, Jag found intriguing. The sight, the smell, the touch. Faith was pleasant to look at, certainly, and even more pleasant to kiss. Jag could only imagine how much more pleasant it would feel to free her of her clothes and touch all the parts of her that Light despised. Did this make him shallow, a bit of animal?
Well, if it did, that was because he was. He had the fur and claws to prove it, not to mention the sudden urge to make Faith his. Humans didn’t work like that, he knew, but he could be patient, especially if he was going to be a part of her fellowship.
And besides, sometimes females liked the animals more than they liked the gentlemen.
Chapter Twenty-Two
She couldn’t believe it. What horrible luck. After all those days back on Earth, Faith had finally stopped thinking so much about Light. About his lips and his scowl and his bad attitude. She didn’t think about him before bed, about how sad he looked, so far off when her mother forced her through the gateway and back to Earth. And now, suddenly, here he was giving her a glare that she couldn’t read.
Faith, realizing she was still pressed against the Malus, disentangled herself from Jag instantly. She thought about asking how much he saw, but judging his frown and the I see you’ve gotten to know each other well, she had a feeling it was everything.
Ugh. Seriously, what rotten luck.
“Hi, Light,” she said, sounding much like a startled little girl. Which she totally wasn’t. She was just…caught off-guard. A bit embarrassed. Okay, a whole lot embarrassed. As in, totally mortified, worse than asking Finn to a dance and blowing up the robotic cat she used right in his face.
“Get inside, the both of you,” Light said. “We have much to do.”
What all did they have to do? Faith couldn’t help but wonder, following Light inside the small stone hut whose walls were overgrown with vines and greenery. On Earth, a house like that would look forgotten, abandoned. Here? It looked right, somehow, a part of nature itself.
Jag followed her, walking a bit too close, considering the fact that he just kissed her. Although, to be fair, Faith did make a bet with him, and while she did kind of want to get down to the nitty-gritty about the details (for the I.D. had discovered the illegal portal), another part of her didn’t, because it was a damn good kiss. That Jag knew how to make the ladies swoon, and now that she knew, she refused to be in that number.
Light led them to what looked like a small eating area, fit with only a tiny firepit and a wooden table that looked like it was carved by a child. There were only two chairs, and Faith sat in one of them. “So, I’m assuming you didn’t risk an illegal portal to Earth just so we could have tea?” she asked, watching as Light glared at Jag, who sat across from her, his legs so long they touched hers. Jag didn’t move, and he acted oblivious to the glaring contest he was included in, so Faith shifted her legs away from his. When the Elf said nothing, she added, “You do have a plan, don’t you? Because soon my mom will come, and she’ll drag an entire squad or two with her, just like she did before, and this time she won’t be so nice.”
It was a minute before Light begrudgingly said, “There is a plan. Right now, we must wait.”
“Wait?” she repeated. “Wait for what?”
“Not for what, for who,” Jag corrected her, smug. Too smug. And his smile—too white. Too perfect. Did the Malus have dental, or was he just a fortunate one?
“Okay, then who are we waiting for?” Faith felt the urgency, though she was glad to be back in the Second. It felt right. “Don’t keep me hanging here.” When both guys only stared at her, giving her clueless expressions, she clarified, “Don’t keep me waiting in suspense. Tell me.”
Light leaned his back on the wall opposite them, staring at her through the dim space. The wonders of electricity. She wasn’t sure how the races here managed without it, though they did have magic. That helped. “Another old friend, though I hope you refrain from throwing yourself at him.”
“Yeah,” Faith replied. “What can I say? Guess I just have a thing for assholes.”
Granted, he was deservedly mad after seeing Jag kiss her. But that’s exactly what it was—Jag kissed her. Not the other way around, and…wait a moment. Faith didn’t have to explain herself or her actions to Light. They weren’t going out. They weren’t together. She could kiss whoever she damned well please, even if she only met him an hour ago.
“I’m not exactly sure what an asshole is,” Jag spoke slowly, “but I have a feeling that I’m not one of them.”
She threw him a fake smile. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Jag.”
“Ah.” He perked up, ears and all. “So you think I’m pretty?”
Light harrumphed. “I am certain she does not find your kind appealing, Jag.”
Jag gave his friend a smile. “She was very compliant, especially towards the end, so forgive me if I don’t agree with you there. That reminds me.” He suddenly stood, yanking off his hooded jacket. Underneath, he wore…nothing. Just his wide, fur-covered chest that, despite herself, she found her eyes traveling to.
The muscles on that one. The sheer amount of muscles beneath his panther-like markings. Wow. Faith was, for once, speechless. The man had square abdominal muscles, a sharp V-shape leading down to his privates. His fur wasn’t long, just a dusting, a coating; perhaps that was why she could see the bulging muscles there.
She also, weirdly, wondered what his fur felt like. Soft like a bunny or coarse like a goat?
His boots came off next, and Faith noted the claws on his otherwise Human-like feet. Just like his hands. Jag reached for his pants when Light quickly said, “That’s enough, Jag. Keep your pants on, at least.”
He blinked his deep blue gaze, not understanding. “What? Why? They’re so uncomfortable—” Jag noticed where Faith’s gaze was, and he cocked his head, grinning. “Like what you see, Faith?”
Immediately lifting her gaze to his, she said, “Not at all.” Faith wasn’t sure how genuine she sounded, for she wasn’t sure whether or not she liked what she saw. It was…weird. Like a mixture between a Human and a werewolf, if the werewolf wasn’t so much wolf as it was a black panther.
No, she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. Her grandma’s voice, saying furries, rang in
her head, and she had to breathe in slow and close her eyes to rid herself of it. She wasn’t turning into a furry lover, was she? This was completely different than people dressing up in suits, right? Faith did her best not to think about it, because the longer she did, the more confused she became.
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she watched him pull a tail from his pants. She knew it. The tail made it even weirder, though Faith knew there were some people on Earth who had weirder kinks.
“That’s enough, Jag,” Light scolded him, sounding like an exasperated friend or an annoyed older brother.
Faith folded her hands on the table. “So who is this old friend? Another Malus? And why do we have to wait for him?” She hoped he would tell her, for she hated shows and books whose plotlines revolved around people close to the main character saying I can’t tell you or I’m protecting you by keeping this from you. Honesty was usually the best policy when it came to things like that. Telling Cara that her hair looked good when she curled it? That was a white lie she was okay with.
Looking from Light to her, Jag said, “Do you want to tell her, or should I?”
“He is not Malus,” Light said, pointedly ignoring Jag. “I’ve known him for nearly my whole life, even before…”
“Before what?” Faith questioned.
“Before he was turned,” Light spoke, an uncharacteristic quiet to his voice. “He is Ulen, now.”
“Ulen?” Faith asked, remembering the one who was about to sacrifice her before a statue of the Dread King.
Shaking his head, Light explained, “Why your kind does not learn about the races of this realm baffles me.”
“Hey, we learn about them, but it’s mostly all about you Elves, because you’re the ones we deal with most. Obviously I’ve heard the name before,” she said. “I just don’t know much about them.” Was this how it was going to be now, back to the to-and-fro insulting that Faith and Light were doing before that night in the dug-out root? If so, fine. It made things easier. She’d not only adhere to her grandma’s warning about those with dicks, but also be less tied-down when she needed to focus on fighting and beating the Dread King.
Light sighed. “Ulen are solitary. No outsiders are welcome in Crystal Cove. They are…usually nocturnal, and they are a race of hunters. They hunt everything, even Elves and Fae and Malus, if they can—”
“Though any Ulen with any brains doesn’t hunt us anymore,” Jag cut in, much to Light’s irritation. “They were forced into a peace pact of sorts when the gateways were opened by the last Harbinger. They are not supposed to hunt any of the more intelligent races, though I’m sure a few rebels still do.”
“By hunt,” Faith clarified, “do you mean kill, or…” She couldn’t even say it.
“They only hunt when they are hungry.” Light’s statement was a simple one, yet it caused her stomach to twist.
“So they eat you?”
Light said, “Not the flesh. The blood. They live on blood.”
Leaning on his forearms, Jag added, “I hear, when they get hungry, their eyes turn red—the same color as blood. Unless you’re a Dracon, in which case I think their blood is silver…or is it gold?” He shrugged, not caring either way.
“Vampires,” Faith stated, like the two knew what vampires were. Seeing their clueless expressions, she was compelled to explain, “Urban legends on Earth. They’re dead, don’t age, drink blood, cannot go out in the sunlight or they catch fire. They can also be turned.”
“Very similar,” Light said. “But the Ulen are not dead. They can die just like anything else, as long as it’s not disease-based. If they are a natural-born Ulen, once their bodies mature, they stop aging physically. Other races can be turned, which is why the Court and other kingdoms outlawed it.” A smirk grew on his lips, and Faith felt herself growing hot as she recalled those same lips all over her face and neck. “And as for the sunlight, Ulen do not burst into flames. Most of them are pale from living in their mountains, but there are ways around it.”
Faith was not looking forward to coming face-to-face with an Ulen. They sounded dangerous, though her and danger would get to know each other very well soon enough, wouldn’t they? “And why do we have to wait for this Ulen?”
“He has the cloak” was Light’s only response.
The cloak? What cloak?
“And then what?”
“Then we get an audience with the Court, and we give you the cloak.”
Faith blinked. That’s it? It didn’t sound like that great of a plan. What good was a cloak going to do? “That’s your big plan—give me a cloak?” What was a cloak? Like a jacket? “I don’t see what good that’s going to do.”
Chuckling, Jag said, “She’s so cute when she’s clueless, isn’t she?”
The question was meant for Light, who simply shrugged as he said, “If you like Humans, which I don’t.” And then he walked out of the room, leaving her with Jag’s oh-so-wonderful company.
For once, he was serious. “How much time do we have before your mother gets here?”
Faith thought about it. “Depends how much corporate bullshit she has to go through on Earth. Could be an hour, could be tomorrow.”
“Let us hope it’s the latter.” Jag stood. “For now, all we can do is wait.” He disappeared, probably trailing Light, which left her to get lost in her own thoughts.
She thought about that kiss, about all the other kisses she had shared with Light. Crap. She wasn’t listening to her grandma’s warning, was she? She was deliberately flaunting herself at the two-generational awful luck with men. Faith basically asked for trouble, and she had a feeling trouble would come knocking soon enough.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Light thought he hid his anger well, but odds were that they both knew he was upset. The foolish girl probably knew why, but Jag was ignorant of the fact that he’d spent so much time with her, spent most of it resenting her until, suddenly, there was a hint of strange desire among the resentment. A desire he acted on, one that he thought she mirrored.
He was wrong. Clearly, she did not feel for him what he thought she did.
His body and mind were full of self-resentment. How could he have let himself start to care for a Human, of all things? It was ridiculous. It was stupid. It went against everything he had thought his whole life.
He walked through his home, emerging through its front door, on the dirt road that led to Springsweet. His home was in the outskirts, far enough away that he could mind his own business, but close enough that he could walk to town when he needed something he could not catch or make on his own and every time he had meat to sell.
Soon enough another presence stood beside him. Together they looked down the road, at the similar-looking huts that steadily grew in size the closer they were to the heart of the city. Jag was always a woman’s man. Light should’ve expected something like this to happen. The Malus moved fast when it came to females, both as a race and as Jag himself.
Maybe Light should’ve gone to the Middleworld. But then, of course, he’d never before been there, and tracking in a city was far different than tracking prey in the wilds. Jag had been there once, thanks to his connections with the Fae gatekeeper. He was the man for the job, and Light hated him for it, even though he couldn’t truly hate him.
“She’s feisty,” Jag said, breaking the heavy silence between them. His blue gaze turned to him as he added, “But the Harbinger? The Harbinger will need more than a pretty face and feistiness.”
Light scowled to himself. A pretty face. Was she? Yes, she was, despite her height and her curves and her lips. She was not pretty by Elven standards, and for a while, he was able to overlook it, overlook her. Then it didn’t matter, because somehow she wormed her way inside of him, and he was angry now. At himself, at her, at Jag.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been off since our return,” Jag stated as he clawed at the ground beneath his feet. “I thought you’d be happy, since this was your plan and all.” There was
a pause as he drew conclusions. “Unless…”
A look of utter disdain was shot in Jag’s direction, but that didn’t stop him.
“Unless you feel for her,” Jag said, studying him intensely.
“I do not,” Light hissed.
“You don’t? Then you felt nothing but disgust when you saw us back there?” Jag waited a moment and when he did not respond, he carried on, “So you wouldn’t mind if I laid her down and—”
Light interrupted, “That’s enough.”
Laughing, Jag said, “I cannot believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“That you fell for a Human, even though she is easy to look at. Don’t you think they’re smelly or something? Don’t you hate their child-bearing bodies? Personally, I am curious what she looks like beneath all those clothes…”
“You will not take them off her—”
“You want to bet on it?” Jag was, as always, all too willing to lay something on the line. It was probably how he got her to kiss him, but Light didn’t care. If that was the case, Faith shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place.
Light knew he shouldn’t, and he didn’t plan on it, for he did not want to enter into any bets made with Jag. He’d lost too many times in the past. He chose to learn from his mistakes, yet he found his mouth opening as he was about to ask what the stakes were. That was when a third person joined their pair and asked, “Bet on what?”
Both Jag and Light froze. He wondered how much she heard, and as he glanced to Jag, he knew his friend thought the same.
“Say,” Faith said slowly, moving between them. “You wouldn’t be betting on anything that involves me, would you?” Her knowing gaze flicked from Light to Jag. “You wouldn’t be betting on something stupid like who can sleep with me first…would you?”
Again with the sleeping. Why couldn’t she just say—
“Don’t be foolish,” Jag said. “We were betting on which one of us could get your clothes off first.”
Light gave him a glare, but he wanted to do so much more than that. Such as punch him repeatedly for saying something so inappropriate out loud to the exact girl they were talking about.
The Harbinger Page 16
