by Allie Santos
It was inexplicable and almost instinctual in the way I found myself at ease with him. My body told me to trust him, but added to the mix was a desire for his company and his regard. I chalked it up to lunacy. Not only did he belong to a psycho bitch who would kill me if she knew what was going through my brain, but he was my captor and I had no idea what his plans for me were.
No, I had to stay away from Roark, no matter how much I was drawn to him.
9
“So, where does the food come from?” I asked four peaches later, completely sated and relaxed.
Smiling up at him, I waited for his reply. The entire time we’d, er, he’d been walking, I’d kept my mouth closed as my body regained its strength. I hadn’t realized how weak and frail I’d been until I was whole.
I shot another glance up at Roark’s stiff face when he didn’t answer. Cue Stockholm’s Syndrome. I groaned and dangled my head over the arm he had under my neck. Not once had he faltered as he’d walked, and I was sure it had been a long time considering it was getting chilly. The strength he exuded was both scary and thrilling.
He tilted his head. “I suppose it disappears from one place and appears where I want it to. You can think of it more as teleportation of an object. For example, the fire that warmed you. It already existed somewhere, and I essentially moved it.”
“That’s really neat,” I said, the amazement in my voice evident. I was shocked to realize it was genuine. Never would I have thought that the idea of magic would come so easy to me, but here I was, amazed.
“Did you have to learn how to do that?” I wanted to ask more personal questions. Like, when did he and Sabine meet? Or did he have a thing for psychos? But I figured I should start off small if I didn’t want him to clam up. The more personal it got, the tenser he got. And he was already stiff as it was.
A tight nod. “All Fae have an ability and mine is manifesting. I’m the only Fae currently known with that magic.” I couldn’t deny that manifesting stuff sounded like a neat power.
“Is magic what’s controlling this weather?” I asked curiously as snow started falling from the sky. The sky, open and clear seconds ago, was overtaken by clouds that released sheets of snow and darkened the horizon. One second it was calm, and the next, there was a small blizzard.
I curled closer to Roark, which wasn’t much help, considering his body was chilled. What had felt nice on a bright sunny day now felt like it could freeze my arms off. Spitting icy snow bits out of my mouth, I shoved my face into the crook of his neck, collecting the little heat there was. A shiver trembled through his arms, and goosebumps rose on his neck. He picked up his speed, and the flakes stopped flurrying around. I removed my head from its haven and glanced around to jagged rock walls surrounding us.
Roark leaned back and tightened his hold around me. “This should blow over in a couple of minutes.”
“Why is the weather like this?” I wondered aloud as I stared out at the layer of snow that had already made the ground solid white.
“The Queen of Fae,” he answered, surprising me.
My eyebrows flew up. “She has that much power?”
He scoffed. “She is powerful, but not infallible. She was the one to bind magic, so it created an imbalance in our world and caused the magic in Faerie to connect itself to her.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, confused.
“Human.” He sighed. “She bound all magic. Since she was the cause, the… life force of this world attached to her.”
“So, she’s doing this?”
“Not consciously. You see, it is so beautiful during some hours because she is actively controlling the environment and her emotions, but when it gets like this”—he nodded out to the snow—“this is when she is alone with no one to distract her, when she is asleep, or when she simply can’t control it. When night comes, it is more difficult to control one’s loneliness…” he said, staring off. He seemed to be speaking from experience.
I frowned and glanced out at the flurries. “She must be feeling some sad stuff if snow is her unconscious state,” I said, thinking aloud.
A rough laugh barked out of him. “Sad,” he spat. “No, this is who she is. A cold being that I cannot kill else it destroys Faerie. She is selfish. Thinking of her own pain and lashing out at the rest of her subjects. Especially when she is not the rightful protector of the Fae.” He must have read the confusion on my face because he continued, lost in dark thoughts. “Her mate was murdered with magic. After that, she bound all traces of it across lands. It was like losing a limb. And still, she took it.” He looked lost. “Magic has been gone now for almost two hundred and fifty years.”
He finally looked down at me with a curl to his lips. I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain around the thought that this man, who looked to be in his late twenties, had been around for decades. Long enough to be around two-hundred and fifty years ago. I blinked. How old was this guy? My brain brimmed with information, and I itched to reach up and rub my forehead. The expression on his face told me there was more to the story. To Roark it was personal.
The flurries had finally abated, and he stepped out of the cover of the wall. Snow crunched under his booted feet as he continued in the direction we’d been heading before the snow stopped us.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Why do you apologize?” There was honest curiosity in his expression, along with a heavy dose of suspicion, as if I had no place to be apologizing for something so powerful.
“It’s a sympathetic apology. Like I’m sorry you had to deal with that. The entire situation sounds awful,” I explained, still reeling from the time frame he’d mentioned. “What I’m trying to say is that I wish you hadn’t had to deal with that.”
He blinked and scowled as if he were having a hard time processing what I was saying. It was almost as if no one had ever commiserated with him. The thought caused my chest to tighten.
A word he said stuck out to me like a sore thumb. The word that had been niggling at me since it was first mentioned.
“You said mate. What does that mean to your people?”
“You only ever get one mate. It is your other half that you bind your life force to through a blood exchange. It is also called a melding. There hasn’t been one since magic was bound, because we need magic to recognize each other.”
I was stumped by something. “You said life force. Does that mean if you exchange blood with your mate and one dies so does the other?” He nodded. I cleared my throat as my mind raced.
“So then why didn’t the Queen die when her mate did?”
This aspect caught my attention, because one day, I wanted to kill Sabine, and if Roark would die along with her, I might not be able to do it. I pursed my lips, waiting for the answer. I tried forcing away the thought that Sabine and Roark were a perfect match.
At this moment, I could admit to myself that I had ulterior motives for my line of questions, but I didn’t let the guilt stop me from asking.
He sent me an appreciative glance. “The main factor to tie mates together is the blood exchange, but they never completed it. The Queen was waiting for a threat to blow over before he tied his life to hers. She was also planning a traditional melding ceremony. He’d lived in the human world, so they had only been together a short time before he was killed.” That was heart breaking. I couldn’t help but feel an inkling of sympathy for this evil Queen who took from her people. Mates sounded like a big deal and if they only got one… I could only imagine how they felt to lose them. Though the only reference I had was Roark and Sabine, and they didn’t act all lovey.
Thinking of Sabine and Roark’s relationship ate at me, and my throat tightened in response. I wracked my brain for a change of conversation. I needed the miserable feeling in my chest to go away.
“Why are you able to do magic even with the bind?”
“Much practice,” he said, and a corner of his mouth curled up. “And I’m powerful. You should have seen me, human. I c
ould have manifested or created anything you desired out of thin air for days if I were at my full capacity.” He winked. There was no rhyme or reason, but I found myself charmed by his gruff, playful exterior
I couldn’t stop the blush that heated my cheeks. Mated, mated, mated, I chanted to myself.
“Will you show me? One day.” The question flowed out of me without consent.
Almost instantly, his face reverted to blankness. Too much. I’d pushed too hard, too fast. Shit. I kept my mouth closed and relaxed into his grasp when he said nothing more. His expression clearly told me to back off. Who did I think I was anyway? Sabine was his other half, and he wasn’t going to go against her.
Not long after, I managed to ask, “Are you finally going to answer where we’re heading?”
He sighed. “You are relentless. We are headed to fetch the final human.”
I tensed in his arms. This time, I kept quiet as doubt sneaked into me. Maybe I had been wrong, and there was nothing in him that could find kindness for me, a simple human.
Considering what he’d done so far, it wasn’t making him worthy of the trust I was putting in him, but what other choice did I have?
He came to a full stop, and I looked up to see arching trees. Another portal. Not giving me time to brace myself, he stepped through, and the cold took me off guard. He put my shivering body down on the crisp grass. I shook my limbs out until I was settled on my feet.
“I will scout the area she will be in. You will stay here until I return,” he said.
“No, I won’t,” I said, taking a step closer to him. I immediately hated myself for the strike of anxiety that shot through me.
“Yes, you will,” he snarled, suddenly in my face.
I gasped and fell on my butt in surprise. Scrambling back, I hit a tree, adrenaline coursing through me. I just stared at him, not saying anything. There was no reason for it, but I didn’t fear him, even though there was every reason I should. He flicked his hands up, and rope appeared around my arms and wrapped around the tree. I pulled at it, but it held my arms locked down.
He pulled the scabbard over his shoulder and leaned the weapon against the trunk.
“Wait,” I yelled, franticly wiggling when he turned to walk away. “Roark, please.” He stuttered to a stop. His voice was too low for me to hear what he was muttering.
In the frame of a second, Roark’s shoulders bunched, and the rope fell away just as it had appeared. He turned on his heel. “Keep quiet and do as I say.”
I got to my feet and trailed behind him. I wanted to ask why he left his sword, but I figured he was dressed oddly enough, and a sword would just draw more unwanted attention. His pace was slow and steady like it had been when he matched my stride, so we were side by side. Regardless, I stayed behind him, staring at my feet as we walked.
“I will find a location for you to… eat,” he said in a low tone.
I said nothing, reeling from how quickly he’d turned deadly. I didn’t realize he had stopped until I bumped into his tall body. I bounced back, but his hand grabbed my hip. I gasped at the touch. He squeezed and released me just as quickly. Rubbing my head, I resisted the desire to look up at him and took in the civilization instead. Or what consisted of civilization, at least.
From this vantage point on the outskirts of the wooded area, there was a run-down diner. Lucy’s Diner was written in large pink letters adorning the top of the wilted brown building. A mile down, I could barely see the shape of a large barn sitting in the middle of a field. A delightful smell invaded my nose, and I looked back at the restaurant. Through a large window, I could see a server place plates in front of a man and a young girl. Hell, I could almost taste the pancakes set on the table.
My stomach decided to let him know, too. Roark looked back at me and nodded. He grabbed my arm and started me in that direction.
“Wait,” I whispered and held up my wrist. The cuff still circled, and the broken chain hung five inches from the hook. Roark reached out and gripped it with both hands. It broke apart with a screech.
“Now, can we go?” he said, tossing the metal over his shoulder. My mouth fell open, he’d made it looked like plastic. “I will take you in to eat, but if you ask for help or try to run, I will kill any and all that are in that establishment. Do we have an understanding?” I nodded with pursed lips and said nothing. He sighed exasperatedly. “Also, clean yourself up when we get in there.”
Offended, I pulled the door open with a harsh yank. The smells intensified in their deliciousness.
“Hi, y’all! Welcome to Lucy’s. Follow me, and I’ll get you seated,” a pretty young girl said as soon as we stepped in. I followed after her and she seemed to finally get a good look at me because her gaze roved me from head to toe, and a wary look entered her eyes. I must look like crap. My face burned, and I pursed my lips in embarrassment.
She sent an appreciative glance toward Roark and looked between us, confused. I tried not to feel too offended. He was the one dressed in odd clothing. She finally stopped and waved us into a booth. I slid in on one side and Roark on the other. “I’ll return in a jiff to get y’alls’ orders.”
I nodded politely. “Wait,” I said, and she paused. “Can you point me to the restroom?”
“Right over there.” She waved to the back of the little restaurant.
I was about to thank her, but she was already gone. “I’ll be back.” My words were stiff, and I didn’t look at Roark as I left.
The bathroom was old yet clean if the disinfectant smell was any indication. I locked the wooden door behind me, glad it wasn’t a communal bathroom. A gasped passed my lips when I got to the mirror. No wonder no one questioned me about the bloody cuts on my face. I was caked in dirt. I looked like a homeless lady who hadn’t been able to shower for years. My reflection reached up to where the cut from the car crash had been. The bumpy ridges were dry and dirty.
I ran the water, waiting for it to heat. As soon as it did, I cupped my hands and splashed my face, starting the diligent job of getting clean.
The edges of my sleeves were wet when I finished, but I grinned when I was able to see my face without dirt. I tenderly touched the old cut, glad the pain was mostly gone, and it was scabbed over. I shook my clothing off, my green long-sleeved shirt almost unrecognizable with the brown hue.
My gaze was drawn to the small window above the toilet, but I knew I wouldn’t try escaping. For one, I didn’t know where the hell I was. Or how I could get out of here. Plus, even though I didn’t think he would hurt anyone. He would catch me. I knew it in my bones.
Squaring my shoulders, I stepped out of the restroom and went back to the table, dragging my feet.
“Are you angry with me?” he suddenly asked. I turned to him as I slid into the booth, surprised, but said nothing. “Listen…” He scratched his head and looked genuinely pained. “I”—he coughed awkwardly—“I apologize if I scared you.”
“Was that so hard?”
“Yes,” he said, straight-faced.
“Whatever. Just don’t do that again. I have enough psycho with your mate,” I sneered, and his eyebrows met.
The waitress was suddenly there, as waitresses tend to do. “Are y’all ready for drinks?”
Roark’s face transformed, and he looked like a different person. I would have sworn he’d been possessed if it weren’t for his eyes, they stayed the same impassive way. It was eerie as hell. “I would love one of everything, darling,” he purred in an accent similar to the waitress, a thick drawl in his words.
I shot back, my mouth hanging open. The girl blushed as he turned his smile on her. A little giggle escaped her.
“Every drink we have?” she said breathlessly.
“And every meal.” He winked.
“That’s going to be mighty expensive,” she warned, a flirty smile gracing her lips.
“Don’t worry about it, darling. I can afford it.” He sprawled back invitingly. A tingle shot through me at the predatory movement. It was
so smooth it was sexual. I wiggled on the seat uncomfortably and looked away.
“Yes, sir, I’ll get right on that.” She smiled and walked away, swaying her hips extra. As soon as she was gone, Roark straightened, and he went back to his unsmiling self.
“What was that?” I snapped.
“It’s called flirting. Ever heard of it?” he said, deadpan.
My teeth clicked together, and I squinted at him. I was surprised he had.
“What, are you jealous?” he muttered under his breath.
I straightened, angry now. More so for the fact that it rang true. Even though I had no place to be.
“I have no jealousy left in me. I watched you fuck your mate. You have to work a little harder to make me jealous,” I returned coolly, surprising myself with my words. I wanted to pat myself on the back, but I thought it might ruin the effect.
He turned his head away from me without a reply, his cheek feathering as he stared out the window. Out of nowhere, he flirts? But she was human, just like me… Suspicion niggled through me.
“It’s her, isn’t it? She’s the one you had to find,” I said in revelation, my teeth already grinding together.
He didn’t say anything for a while. My shoulders tensed with each second. Finally, he turned, met my eyes, and simply said, “Yes.”
10
I set my napkin down. But before I could stand, his hand grasped mine, holding me in place. I glared at him. “Let me go.” I yanked at my hand with each word but to no success. All I managed to do was make my wrist sore.
“Sit,” he said.
I just flicked one of my eyebrows up and added a smile, aiming to piss him off. He gripped my hand tighter. Before I knew what was happening, he swept out his leg, and my legs went out from under me. A huff exploded from me as I landed on the cushioned seat. He smirked, not hiding his guilt.
