by Allie Santos
“Really,” I said, my hands fisting of their own accord, tugging harshly out of his hold that had kept me from bashing into the table. “I’m going to ruin this for you. You can’t take her. She has a life. Do you not understand that?”
He rolled his shoulders and glanced away, the smug expression wiped clean. “One must make sacrifices to get what they want,” he surprised me by answering.
“But at the risk of others? How is that okay—” I started, but the waitress’s appearance interrupted my morality rant.
“Here are some of your drinks,” she said and set cup after cup down. There were five. All varying colors—clear, dark, orange. I turned to her, mind made up. I would tell her to stay away from him. To find a crowd of people he wouldn’t dare get near for fear of exposure.
But when I opened my mouth to warn her, all that came out was air. I was too shocked for anything else to come out with one of his hand squeezing my leg under the table. I glanced at Roark. The threatening look he shot me sent fear up my spine, and my lips slammed shut. The vicious look in his eyes was the only thing that changed as he leaned forward. One hand was under the table over my leg while the other rested on the table. I’d almost let myself forget what he truly was.
“Are you all right, sweetie?” she asked.
I glared at her. I was positive I was at least two years older than her, and she was calling me sweetie? Shaking off the irritating thought, I turned my angry gaze toward Roark and the manic look in his eyes disappeared as if it had never been there.
He finally turned away from the evidently mesmerizing window. “Don’t worry about her. She’s a little off.” He leaned in her direction, mock-whispering the last part. “I found her a little out of town with a sign asking for food. So here we are.” He waved a hand around.
Understanding lit her eyes up. I wanted to vomit at the syrup Roark laid on thick. The girl blushed and smiled, obviously liking the image he was painting. Accented, wealthy, and kind. I couldn’t even hate her; she had no chance against him.
I was so pissed and, honestly, felt a little betrayed. Although I couldn’t move, I somehow managed to kick a foot out and connected with a hard surface. My worn Converse didn’t protect my toes, so a pang jolted up my ankle. At least I hadn’t done it with my bad leg. The only sign Roark showed that he felt it was in the twitch of his eyebrow. That damned false smile didn’t falter.
“That’s mighty kind of you,” she said, twirling her hair with a finger like we were in a damn movie. “I’m Luna.” She stuck her hand out. For the first time, Roark looked disconcerted as he stared at it, hesitating for only a second before reaching out, squeezing it, and quickly dropping it.
He smiled and nodded. “Jase.”
Luna was too busy staring at his face and didn’t realize his hand was clenched on the table. I shook my head at him, disgusted. He squeezed me warningly. He seemed unsettled when he touched her. It was probably because she was human. What a jerk. I had been like this girl, lost in his odd beautiful eyes. I was so stupid. He wasn’t harmless. He was a cold-blooded Fae with an agenda.
A bell rang, startling the waitress out of the dream state she’d been in.
“Luna,” a voice yelled from a distance. I turned and found a cute cowboy-looking guy round the kitchen door with an apron tied around his waist. He paused when he saw her leaning against our table and narrowed his eyes. “The orders for your table are comin’ in.”
She straightened real quick. “Ok, coming,” she chirped, ducking her head but not before I saw a guilty look on her face.
The plot thickened.
“And here I thought it was pure kindness in you bringing me to eat,” I muttered.
“It was pure luck her place of work involved food.” He shrugged and leaned back, going back to looking out the window.
I ground my molars together. “You”—I jabbed a finger toward Roark—“you are levels of messed up. Not only are you trying to kidnap her, but she’s in a relationship and you’re leading her on?”
“And?” he said shortly.
My muscles quivered from the desire to punch him. “Are you Fae just incapable of any type of normal emotion? Or is it just you that’s defective?”
I was ready to throw the towel in by this point. If Luna was stupid enough to fall for the crap some playboy threw at her while having a boyfriend, that was her fault. There was only so much stupid I could deal with. And I had my hands full lately.
Speaking of stupid.
“Here’s the first round of breakfast plates,” Luna said, setting piles of pancakes on the table, distracting me from any and all drama. There may have been drool as I inhaled the delicious smell.
I tore a fork free from its napkin prison, took a big bite, and sunk into the cushioned booth with a moan. So good, but it could be better. Grinning, I reached for the syrup and tilted it over until my blueberry pancakes were drowned.
I glanced up as I finished and met two pairs of eyes. Luna’s slightly concerned, and Roark’s fascinated. Ignoring both of them, I tore into my fluffy goodness. Roark continued to watch me like I was a bug under a microscope, his eyes following my every move. I took a couple of more bites of the pancakes and began picking at the other plates of food.
“None of this looks good to you?” I said around a mouthful. I didn’t let myself feel shame. After all, it was both his and Sabine’s fault that I’d been starving.
He pursed his lips, and I could have sworn he was hiding a smile. “Come on, try it,” I cajoled and edged one of the plates in his direction. He tilted his head, a small smile flitting around his lips.
“You must have it all to yourself. I have no doubt you will find a place for it.” He chuckled. My eyebrows flew up at the small sound. His look mirrored mine and then he had to ruin it by scowling and looking away with a squint.
I rolled my eyes and continued working on the food. Luna brought out another round of plates, all of which were picked at by yours truly.
The concerned edge to Luna’s expression never left. I wanted to snap at her that it was because I was being held hostage by Fae for God only knew how long, but that would only earn me crazy points.
By the time she brought the receipt, she lingered until Roark looked up at her. “Would you like to meet after your shift? Or whenever you have a break?”
She looked shocked at the blunt question for a second. At the obvious invitation for something physical and quick. She looked behind her toward that kitchen door and turned back to him. There was a certain look in her eyes, a look that hinted rebellion.
“I-I would. Meet me behind the diner in an hour,” she muttered. He smiled that charming smile, and she turned away blushing. The food in my stomach started feeling heavy.
Roark dropped a wad of cash onto the table, and I made out hundreds intermixed with twenties. I huffed at the sight of the money. So easy for him. He must have just manifested it out of someone’s pocket. I shook my head and squeezed out of the booth. He held the door open for me, and we walked out into the dusky twilight.
“What now?” There was a bite to my words.
“We wait.” He started walking down the road. I followed along quietly, lost in thought. He strode a good way down before he took a sharp left, and we approached the edges of the woods.
I followed his path, evading bramble, my steps heavy in comparison to his agile ones. We came to a simultaneous stop, and he leaned against a tree, tilting his head back with his eyes closed. If I didn’t know better, his posture could have been taken as exhausted and… run down.
Without a conscious decision, I found myself in front of him as my hand reached out to touch his arm. I froze before I connected. His head tilted down to watch me, and I withdrew my hand.
“Sorry, I forgot you don’t like vermin touch,” I mocked and stepped back.
“Why do you say that?” he asked and relaxed further into the tree.
“I could tell you didn’t like Luna touching you,” I said.
�
��Perceptive little thing, aren’t you,” he said, giving me a considering look. I was the furthest thing from little, but compared to his height, I guess anyone would seem minuscule. I stayed quiet and looked up at the pink-tinged sky. After a while of silence, he was the one to break it.
“I don’t like touch. From anyone, not just humans,” he admitted. I was shocked by his words, as well as astonished that he actually replied without me having to ask a million times.
What would make him not like physical touch? It was vital to well-being. It was comfort and safety. Touch could be anything to anyone, from a haven to a relief.
I shook my head. I kept thinking in terms of humans. How did I keep forgetting he wasn’t human? Maybe it wasn’t the same for Fae, but Sabine, he’d seemed fine with her touch, hadn’t he?
As if reading my mind, he continued. “There are some I tolerate. The more I am exposed to a specific touch, the easier it is to handle.”
I nodded to show I was listening when he paused to look at me. If it had been a Fae thing, why hadn’t Sabine acted repulsed by touch? I itched to ask questions. To have the mystery answered of whether it was because he was Fae or if it was him. He said nothing else, and I waited, staring at him expectantly, but gave up after he stared off for five minutes in silence.
Perching against a tree next to him, I scooted down until my butt was situated at the base. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, enjoying the breeze that caressed my face. When a nudge woke me, I realized I must have dozed off because the sky had darkened and cast a dull orange-yellow light over the horizon.
“It’s time,” Roark said, straightening.
I scurried to get on my feet as he stepped back through the trail and started back toward where we had been. I stared after him, admiring his perfect posture. He was such a mystery. So cold one second, seeming vulnerable the other, and then completely tuned out the next. Every facet intrigued me, but I couldn’t for the life of me put my finger on why I was so drawn to that vulnerable side he kept hinting at.
I sighed and almost fell, barely catching myself in time. The sky had already begun fading into darkness as the crescent moon shone more, offering white light to brighten the area. We reached the bend before the restaurant was in sight.
“You will wait for me around the entrance. Once I grab her, you will follow,” he said, coming to a full stop and rounding on me. “You will not try anything. My threats still stand.”
I nodded with a hard swallow. His eyes glinted back at me in the light, sending an eerie tingle through me.
He guided me to the side entrance and pointed without a word, signaling for me to wait there, so I stood still and saluted. He shook his head as he continued his way around the back of the restaurant.
I fulfilled the promise as I stood there, counting, and once I got to ten, I started after him. He said to wait, and I had, but he’d never said I couldn’t move after waiting. Smiling, I crept behind the corner of the building and leaned over to see if I could catch sight of him.
My eyes trained on movement in the darkness. I saw Roark with Luna. Her back rested against the brick wall as he stood in front of her, almost flush with her body. He leaned his head down, and I saw his profile as he whispered words into her ear.
Probably lies. I swallowed, my fists balling. Roark straightened, and I stepped back and squeezed between a small crack of the building. A shadow stepped past me, and I cringed back, but it didn’t pause as it made its way past me.
Thankfully, whoever it was hadn’t seen me.
11
“Evan,” Luna squeaked. “It’s not what you think.”
I scoffed from my hiding spot. Isn’t that what they always said? Hell, that’s what my asshole boyfriend had said when I walked in on him in our shared apartment, while he had Jen on top of him.
“Pops told you to stop tryin’ to go ‘round with boys, Luna. How many times will I have to pull you away? You’re like a bitch in heat,” Evan yelled, spitting on the ground.
Well, I had definitely read that dynamic wrong.
My fingers curled on the wall as I leaned forward, riveted by the drama happening in front of me. Luna took another step to the side, away from Roark, who looked bored as he leaned his shoulder against the wall.
She put her hands out, waving them to calm her… brother? The Evan guy took a few steps forward until he was within touching distance of Luna and wrapped his meaty hand around her arm.
“Get behind me, Luna.” He stepped forward and tilted his head, so he was face to face with Roark, who hadn’t straightened to his full height. “You no good piece of shit. What do you want with my sister?”
Roark tilted his head to the side, saying nothing. Evan’s face twisted, and he reached his arm out to grab Roark’s forearm. I was about to step out to intervene and plead Roark not to kill them when a hiss sounded, but not from where I expected it to come from. Roark jerked back, his lips curled into a snarl.
I looked at his arm, at the new burn there. Gasping, I turned to see a flash of metal in Evan’s hand as he whirled around and scrambled back, fishing around in his pockets.
He bumped into me and quickly shook off his surprise as he grasped my arm in a hard hold. He fumbled around, but before I could yank away from him, he managed to slap a square metal thing against my hair.
The cold discomfort from the metal shocked me, but I didn’t cringe away, glad my hair was thick enough to shield me from whatever he was pressing against my head. My arm was jerked back, and there was a click as a nub pressed hard into my head.
I froze when I registered it was a gun. I turned to look at Roark, who tensed and stilled. His gaze settled on the weapon pointed at my head.
“Let. Her. Go,” Roark bit out.
“I fuckin’ knew it,” Evan spat. “You think you’re the only monster that comes around here? With your too perfect skin and them eyes of yours. I can always tell with the eyes.” He muttered the last part.
Roark took a step forward, and the gun jammed harder into my temple, sending a sharp pain through my head. Roark’s eyes narrowed and he hissed, tilting his head down.
“E-Evan,” Luna stuttered, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between Roark and the gun. “What’re you doin’? Let her go.”
I was trying to keep my breathing even, but my chest pumped up and down as panic settled in. I rubbed my sweaty hands on my jeans.
“No,” he said and squeezed my arm so hard a shocked yip escaped. That’s when Roark made his move. Evan whipped the gun off my head and shot in Roark’s direction.
“Roark!” I yelled in warning, but thankfully, he’d already moved. He now stood behind Luna, his hands wrapped around her neck. Luna clawed at the hands but stopped struggling when he hissed warningly.
“Let ‘er go!” Evan said and spittle hit my cheek. I wanted to wipe it off, but I couldn’t on the off chance it sent him into a shooting rage. “If you don’t want to die, let my sister go, and I’ll let your slut go.”
Without a word, Roark let go of Luna’s beck, one finger at a time. Free, she fell to the jagged cement and scrambled to where Evan held me.
“Give her to me,” Roark said thinly, holding out his hand. I felt myself being pulled back.
“Get up, Luna, head to the back door of the restaurant.” She did as he said, and he pulled me back. Roark stalked one step closer with every step Evan took backward.
Light filtered out, illuminating the darkness with a sliver of golden light as Luna slipped to the other side of the door. “Come on, Evan, let her go,” Luna muttered and held the door slightly ajar.
Evan grunted in my ear and shoved me forward. I was caught in strong arms before I hit the floor. Looking up, I met Roark’s hard eyes.
“Thank you,” I muttered as he pulled me up and to him. He twisted seconds before shots rang out. The world tilted as he flashed away, tugging me up into his arms. My lids slid closed as my stomach dropped and whirled. Right when I felt like I was about to explode, the pressur
e subsided. I gagged when I opened my eyes, surprised that we stood at the entrance of the portal. He stepped through, pulling me tight to him. The cold faded away, signifying the passage over the portal. I lifted my head and saw the bright day.
“Thank God, it’s sunny—” I gasped when I noticed the purplish blood staining his shoulder. “You’re bleeding.”
The color of his blood would have thrown me off if I hadn’t already seen Sabine impaled with this same purple blood splattered all over the place. He said nothing and went on walking. His grip on me tightened, and if he were anyone else, I would have thought he was worried as he looked over me.
“Do you feel okay? I should not have run with you, but I could not chance another attack.”
“Other than wheezy, I’m fine.”
“That stifled side must protect you,” he said, talking to himself.
I didn’t listen to his words as purple blood seeped onto me. “We have to stop, you got shot.” Roark chuckled, and it sent fear to my core. “You must be dying if you’re laughing.”
Roark sighed and ignored me again. I didn’t stop nagging until he grunted and came to a stop. Setting me down, he said, “You can be quite annoying.”
I grabbed his arm’s sleeve and tried to push it up and out of the way, but it wouldn’t roll over his muscled arm. “Um, could I rip your sleeve off?” I asked.
He looked up. I took that as a sure and tried to yank it off, but it was stronger than it looked and felt almost elastic-like. After a few tries, he reached over, gave it a sharp tug, and tore half his shirt off. I cleared my throat at the sight and reached up to move the fabric from the wound, trying not to stare.
“Oh, shit, it went straight through your shoulder.” I bent in half and heaved, hugging my middle. I knew it was a good thing. It meant nothing vital got hit, but the hole in his flesh made my stomach turn.
“I’ve been injured before,” he said simply.
I gaped up at his words, but he looked away from me. “Can’t you heal yourself?”
“Technically, but that will drain the reserve of magic I’ve built,” he answered.
