Seriously? Slowly, Callie stood, something warning her against touching him even as she just resisted the urge to shove him out of her apartment.
That haughty expression of his was really starting to piss her off.
“Do you think I’m a dog?” she demanded, glass crackling under her sneaker as she firmly planted her foot. “Because I’m not just going to come when I’m called.”
For all his looming and his arrogance, she had a hunch that the most he would do was bully her to get his way. He’d never force her. So, hoping she was right, she stayed right where she was.
There was that frown again. If she didn’t know better—if she thought a fae male could be vulnerable enough to let her see any kind of weakness—she would’ve thought he looked confused.
Or maybe he forgot that he was dealing with—what did he call it? Someone with the sight.
She could see him as his eyebrows drew in; if he wasn’t such an ethereal beauty, she was sure his forehead would’ve wrinkled, too. His lush lips parted before his eyes widened in sudden understanding.
“Callie is not your true name.”
That was the last thing she expected him to say.
“You’re talking about my real name? No. It’s not. It’s a nickname.”
“Did you mean to deceive me on purpose?”
“By telling you that I’m Callie?” She shook her head. “It’s my name. You didn’t need to know what’s on my birth certificate.”
Especially since this wasn’t Callie’s first run-in with a faerie creature sneaking around the human world, sure that their glamour would fool her. She might not know many of their secrets—and that was on purpose, too, since she was a profound believer that ignorance could be bliss—but she knew very well that giving one of the fae her true name was one way to give them power over her.
“Tell me. Tell me what you’re really called.”
He had to be kidding.
“No.”
Ash was quick. With a glide so graceful it belonged on a stage, he crossed the lingering space between them, his hands hovering over her upper arms. She could sense him, but he didn’t quite make contact with her skin, and she wasn’t so sure why that was an overwhelming relief.
“You will tell me,” he cooed.
This was getting to be too much. She might’ve had her own moment of temporary insanity when she invited this capricious creature into her home, but that was easily corrected. Something told her that he would bully and he would push until she stood up for herself and only then would Ash back off.
To keep that from happening, she needed to push back first.
Hey. It was worth a try.
“No. I won’t.”
“You refuse me?”
There was something in the way he said refuse that had Callie choosing her next words carefully. “I think you should go.”
“I have plenty of time until the sun sets and I have to return to Faerie. You invited me in. I’m not going anywhere.”
Oh? Was he so sure of that?
Remembering the way he stepped into the elevator and quickly moved back out again, the sizzling sound as his hand made contact with the metal door, and how he commented with a faint sneer that her apartment was a cage of iron, Callie slowly moved back and away from Ash. Iron… how could she have forgotten the fae’s disdain for iron?
He followed her with his unblinking gaze, but he didn’t make another move. Good. That gave Callie time to lunge for the kitchen countertop and Mitch’s cast iron pan. He swore it made his steaks taste better than any of her cheap set of cookware, and because it was so big and so heavy, he just kept it stored by the stove.
For the first time ever, Callie didn’t give a shit that it was an eyesore. It was heavier than she remembered, but she was panicking a little at the way he watched her like a spider sizing up the poor fly caught in its web. Weight didn’t mean a damn thing as she used two hands to grab the handle, swinging the cast iron pan up like it was a baseball bat and she was Mark McGwire.
“Back up,” she warned Ash. “Back up or I’ll use this. I swear I will.”
One glimpse at the murderous expression that flitted across his flawless features told Callie that she was right. Ash wouldn’t push her while she was wielding the pan, but he definitely wasn’t happy about that.
Like before, though, he wrangled his expression quickly. He obviously wasn’t used to dealing with a human he couldn’t control. Her gift—her sight—made them more evenly matched since Callie knew to be on her guard. He got under her skin once. She wasn’t so sure what this fae would do if she let him do it again.
And he proved it a moment later when he scoffed and said, “You won’t escape me that easily, Callie.”
“Are you threatening me?” A waver slipped into her tone. So much for being brave, but the look on the fae’s face… it would bring even the strongest human to their knees. Were her instincts wrong? On a shaky breath, she demanded to know, “Are you going to hurt me?”
Ash stayed silent for a moment before he asked, “Why would I?”
Good question.
Callie hefted the cast iron pan as high as she possibly could. She didn’t know him. She didn’t really know what he was, what he was capable of. He was fae, but what exactly did that mean? But she did know from the way he glared at the iron pan that it was the only thing keeping him away from her at that very moment.
For some strange reason, he seemed to be fixated on her. Wrangling an invitation after he crossed into her world and skewered the little goblin things was one thing but the way he tried to order her to kick Mitch out proved that to Callie’s mind. And, sure, he had saved her from those creatures… but that didn’t mean she was going to let him walk all over her just because he was powerful enough to do so—and cocky enough to think that she would let him.
She swallowed, and though her arms were killing her, she held on tightly to the pan. “Goodbye, Ash.”
“You’re daring,” he said. “I’ll give you that. But you’re making this more difficult than it has to be. You’ve caught my attention, human. For good or for bad, you have it.”
“What if I don’t want it?”
A small quirk of his lush lips. “You should’ve thought about that before you invited me home.”
And then, before she could retort, Ash walked out of the kitchen without another word.
Callie didn’t lower the heavy pan—or take another breath—until she heard the front door open, then close.
Though she knew she was probably making a huge mistake, she lugged the cast iron pan out of the kitchen, down the hall, and over to the door. She wasn’t brave enough to open it in case Ash took it as another invitation, but she peered out through the peephole.
Then, in shock at what she saw, she fumbled with the knob before throwing her shoulder into the wood, swinging the door wide just in time to watch the last of the tower of flames dissipate.
Because that’s what she had seen. A wall of fire that stretched from the ceiling to the industrial carpet. Ash’s portal? It had to be, especially since there was no sign that it had been there except for the heat licking out at her and the scent of flowers that filled the normally musty hall.
No scorch marks.
No smoke.
No Ash.
He was gone, but Callie’s instincts told her that he wouldn’t be for long.
5
She was just sweeping up the last of the glass when Mitch let himself into the apartment.
Thinking ahead, Callie changed as many of the lightbulbs as she could before she started cleaning. She could explain away the glass shards way more easily than she could a dark kitchen so she looted the under the sink area for as many spare bulbs as she could find first, then reached for the broom second.
While she cleaned, she had some time to think. As grateful as she was that the fae male—that Ash—had crossed over to save her from the kobold thing, it all seemed so very coincidental now that he was gone and she could t
hink more clearly. He might not be able to use his glamour to trick her into believing everything he said, but his natural, glamour-free form was still so dazzling that Callie had definitely fallen under his sway a bit. Why else would she have invited him into her home? He wasn’t a vampire, so it wasn’t like he needed the invitation, but when it came to entering into bargains and contracts and agreements with the faerie folk—whether she meant to or not—she had to be careful not to give him so much an inch otherwise he’d take a mile.
It was bad enough that his rescue came with an unknown price tag. After the way she had to all but chase him off with her roommate’s cast iron pan, Callie was beginning to have serious doubts that she could pay it.
Not that she could tell Mitch any of that. By the time she heard the door opening and, peeking into the hall, saw that it was her roommate, she had pulled on her own version of glamour. The last thing she needed was Mitch letting slip to her family that she was “having trouble” again.
Twenty-two or not, her parents would insist on more therapy. Callie would rather deal with the fae on her own than have her parents think she was struggling.
So, quickly sweeping the last of the broken glass into the dustpan before dumping it in the trash, Callie offered Mitch a welcoming smile as he tossed his messenger bag on top of the couch.
Mitch was the same age as Callie, and she might have downplayed her relationship with him just a bit when Ash asked her about it. While it had never been a romantic one, mainly because it seemed weird to her to be into her brother-in-law’s brother, Callie considered Mitch her closest friend. He knew about her history with “seeing things” and never treated her any differently, even if she knew her mother and her sister quizzed him about her whenever they got a chance.
He was good-looking in his own way, she admitted. He had shaggy dark blonde hair that was perpetually in need of a haircut, and his tall, lanky body always seemed a little too big whenever his office required him to wear a suit. Most days, though, a polo and jeans were fine, and that’s what he was wearing now.
“Good day at work?” she asked him.
He groaned, rolling his head on his neck. His shoulders looked tight, and he lifted a hand to rub at it. “Long day, Cal,” he said. “And I got a longer one tomorrow. Gotta be up at the crack of dawn for a whole slate of meetings. I was thinking about ordering in, then heading right to sleep. You hungry?”
Huh. With everything that happened, Callie hadn’t had anything to eat since her early lunch. Glancing out the kitchen window, she saw that it was dark outside. Now that Mitch mentioned it, she was starving.
“I can eat.”
“Pizza?”
“You buy, I tip tonight?”
While they usually cooked for themselves, on the rare occasion that they spent money on a meal out, they were on a rotating system. Callie got the last round of take-out for them so it was Mitch’s turn.
“Sounds good. Pepperoni on your half?”
She nodded. “Get some garlic knots, too. Okay?”
Mitch nodded, pulling out his expensive Nokia cellphone. Callie hadn’t bothered getting a cell—partly because of the price, and partly because she’d never get her parents off her back—but Mitch’s job provided him with his. He was kind of pretentious with it, but at least when he wasn’t using it he let Callie play “Snake” on it, so it wasn’t so annoying.
“I’ll place the order, then hop in the shower. Here.” He reached into his front pocket, pulled out a twenty, and offered it to Callie. “In case I’m still getting ready. Nunzio’s is usually pretty quick.”
She accepted it, making a mental note to grab a couple of singles from her purse to give him as change since twenty was more than enough for food and tip. “No problem. Take your time in there,” she said, a teasing note finding its way to her voice. “You look like you need to relax a little.”
Mitch didn’t even try to deny it. With a shrug, he said, “It’s what happens when I live with a babe who doesn’t want to be friends with benefits.”
Callie stuck out her tongue.
“Hey. Don’t stick it out unless you want to use it.”
“You wish, Mitch.”
“I do, Cal. I really do.”
She rolled her eyes. Their relationship was built on mutual affection, but despite his teasing and his flirting, she knew that he only made comments like that because he knew she wouldn’t take any offense to it. Of course, if she offered to join him in the shower, he’d never say no, but it wasn’t like he was carrying a torch for her or anything and they both knew it.
Mitch chuckled at her reaction before waving his phone at her, then heading down the hall toward the bathroom.
“Don’t forget my pepperoni,” she called after him.
“I won’t,” he promised as he went inside to start the shower.
A moment later, Callie heard the water come on, then the bathroom door open again. As she set the broom to the side, she waited to see if he would call out to her. Maybe the pizzeria was out of pepperoni or something—
A towel draped around his naked waist, Mitch’s bare feet slapped against the hallway. Callie held her breath, hoping none of the glass made its way out of the kitchen as her roommate padded past her, toward the front door.
“Mitch, I don’t think the pizza could’ve gotten here yet.”
“Not the pizza,” came his reply. She heard him mutter something under his breath, the sound of something sliding across something else, and then, “Cal, did you see my watch?”
“What?”
“My watch. I forgot to grab it this morning, and I just remembered when I went to take it off for the shower. I’m pretty sure I left it over here on this table, but it’s gone.”
She joined him by their front door.
Mitch was standing next to the same side table near the couch where she’d dropped her purse and her camera bag. There were usually a few other knickknacks scattered along the top—a remote, an extra scrunchie, a pair of sunglasses—and she tried to remember if Mitch’s watch had been there earlier.
If it had been, it wasn’t now.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
Callie had a bad feeling about that.
Her purse was shoved to the side, the mouth of it open. Her camera bag was resting precariously on the edge of the table. She didn’t know if Mitch had moved it during his search, or if a sticky-fingered fae might have had a chance to go through their things on his way out of the apartment.
It had seemed like forever before he exited the apartment. But would a magical, otherworldly being snatch Mitch’s Timex watch, so cheap that it wasn’t even waterproof?
More importantly, if she dug through her purse, would anything of hers be missing?
Her heart started beating triple-time again. She didn’t know for sure, but she’d learned a long time ago to trust her senses—her instincts, her hearing, her sight—over anything else.
And her senses were telling her she had a pretty good idea where Mitch’s watch had gone.
Even so, she shrugged, and then she answered him while hoping like hell it wasn’t a lie.
“Nope. Never saw it.”
In his barracks once more, Ash went to his private quarters and, pressing his thumb to the crystal knob he’d imprinted on once he made Melisandre’s elite guard, he locked himself inside.
Up until that moment, he refused to allow himself to focus on the events of what happened in the Iron. Dwelling too closely on it would’ve ignited in Ash the desire to compel his white-haired human—his Callie—to come with him, to talk to him, to even tell him no repeatedly as she refused him if only because he was sure he’d get her to change her mind eventually.
But he had felt the pull of the shadows and he knew that it wasn’t worth fighting the darkness when his time with the human was only beginning. She’d had a fright that, he admitted, he was solely responsible for, and now that he had proved that she had the sight, he had to be far more careful in how he approac
hed her.
Because never seeing her again was not an option.
The moment he let the kobold loose, directing it to run through the veil and cross over into the human world, Ash had just wanted to know what it was about her that kept him coming back to her. Sure, Melisandre’s command had him at the post, but he went because he was interested in a human. There was no denying that.
Just like how there was no denying the way his protective instincts came roaring to life as soon as the kobold took off after her.
Nothing could have stopped him from going after the creature. It didn’t matter that he was the one who sent it after Callie. From the terror that slammed into her like a wave, reaching out to him even through the veil, to the way she stared at the kobold without trying to escape it, Ash had his answer. She could see it—she could see him—and, suddenly, he wanted to hold onto his fascination with her.
His human female had to live so the kobold had to die. He wasn’t even thinking about what it would mean to save her life until she, still stunned, pointed out that he had. And, with just those words, she unknowingly triggered a geas similar to that of Nine’s.
Ash was protective of his human, but he was still fae. He would use that life debt to get what he wanted, no matter what.
Once looked inside his personal quarters, Ash reached into the deep pockets of his pants, pulling out the contents inside. When he could store everything he could or would ever need in a faerie portal, the things he kept on his person were the most important things he owned.
Normally there was only one thing in his pants.
Today, there were three.
Nestled in the crook of his bronzed palm, he saw his pebble. A symbol of the life debt that Ninetroir owed him, Ash never went without it. The geas would still exist even if he lost the small rock, but he liked knowing he had visible evidence of it. Nine was a Dark Fae, one of the Cursed Ones. He was much younger than Ash, and he’d recently joined the queen’s guard after completing the academy at Ash’s request, but they weren’t friends.
The fae didn’t have friends.
Glamour Eyes: a Rejected Mates Fae Romance (Wanted by the Fae Book 1) Page 4
