by M. J. Haag
“Ghua will lead the group. The infected have proven themselves smart. Nancy has agreed that we must keep the group small for the safety of the humans that remain. Twelve volunteers are needed. No more.”
The gathered fey broke into groups and started talking in low voices. The fey on the porch went inside without waiting for the outcome of whatever the others discussed. My steps slowed with my uncertainty. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to interrupt with my ideas.
Tor didn’t notice my hesitation and marched right up to the door. His knock didn’t silence the gathered men, but it did bring the speaker to the door.
“Tor,” he said when the big fey saw us.
“Drav, June would like to meet Mya.”
Drav grunted and opened the door for us to enter. The smell of some kind of baked sweets hit me, and I inhaled appreciatively.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Cake,” a woman called from the kitchen. “Come in here and help me taste test it.”
I shed my jacket as I moved toward the sound of her voice.
A young woman with dark hair moved around the kitchen. The cake in question rested on the stovetop as she melted some chocolate. She glanced at me when I entered the room.
“June?” she said. At my nod, she smiled. “I’ve heard a bit about you. I was going to give you another day to settle in then come for a visit. Eden mentioned that you were at their feight club this morning.”
“Yeah. It was interesting.”
“I bet. One of these mornings, I’ll wake up early enough to check it out.”
“They go until lunch.”
She flashed a grin at me. “So no excuses for tomorrow, eh?”
I gave a small shrug, still trying to gauge what type of person Mya was. She was the gatekeeper for Tolerance. She was the reason Adam and I had gone to Tenacity in the first place. I couldn’t decide what that made her in my eyes.
“Adam left me, thanks to the beating he received in Tenacity.”
All humor left Mya. She exhaled heavily and fully faced me.
“I heard.” Her gaze flicked to something over my shoulder, and I glanced back to find both Drav and Tor standing there. “Could you two give us a few minutes for some girl talk?”
They both left without another sound.
“How’d you hear?” I asked.
“News travels fast here. The fey like to share what they learn about humans. Seeing a man give up a perfectly good female blew their minds. They don’t understand. To them, relationships are all or nothing from the start. There’s no test period. No dating, you know?”
“Yes, I’ve been getting that impression.” I moved to the table and took a seat. “The fey aren’t the problem, though. It’s the people in Tenacity. Your dad told me that you’ve been telling Matt he needs to remove the bad apples from Tenacity. Is that true?”
“Yeah. He and I have talked about it several times. It’s not simple, though. If he removes people without having cause, he’ll have a riot on his hands. Honestly, there are days I wouldn’t care if that happens. Then, I look at all the fey still without females of their own and know we need to keep trying to find a peaceful way to bring the two communities together. The fey are counting on us. They need each human that remains. They’ve been alone for too long.”
“I heard,” I said. “And I feel bad for them. But not bad enough to keep doing nothing. The hate is festering. Whether Matt does something or not, he's going to end up with a riot. The mood is volatile over there and growing more so each day due to their desperation and fear.”
She studied me for a moment.
“Matt’s a reasonable person. If you have any ideas, I’m sure he’d listen.”
I shook my head.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t. The ideas I have aren’t nice.”
Mya’s brows rose.
“Those people lived here, ransacked our supply shed, and spit on the fey. Even if Matt’s not in the mood to listen to ‘not nice,’ I am.” She joined me at the table as she spoke. “Tell me your ideas.”
“We need to profile everyone in Tenacity.”
“That’s a lot of people.”
“I know. But I have a lot of time on my hands.”
“How do you want to profile them?”
I smiled at the interest in her expression.
“I’ll need fey help. Emily and Tor told me a little about Emily’s efforts to find ways to integrate humans and fey. Her lack of volunteers says a lot. People are afraid of the fey. Why wouldn’t they be? The first time I saw two at our farm, one of them lifted a damn cow. Do you know how terrifying that show of strength was? The second time I saw the fey, they were covered in blood. Those encounters built a perception that they were dangerous. Of course, humans fear them. We need to change their perception, and in our attempt to change human perception, we’ll watch. We’ll profile.”
“That sounds great, but how.”
“You have food, and Tenacity needs it.”
Mya was already shaking her head. “We’ve tried that. Giving those asshats food only made them feel more entitled to it. We’re not going down that road again.”
“We’re not going to give it to them. We’re going to soup-kitchen it. Fey prepared and served food in a common group area where we can watch how people react and take notes.”
Mya leaned back in her chair, clearly considering the idea.
“That’s brilliant. The haters will balk at the idea of having to eat fey food. The hungry people will see fey doing something mundane and domestic.” Her smile grew. “That could work.”
“Being hateful isn’t enough to get kicked out of Tenacity, though,” I said. “Stealing food is. We build a list of the haters, then we bait them to steal until each one is gone.”
“How do we bait them?”
“The same way Adam did. I’ll move back to Tenacity and go out on supply runs. I show off what I bring back and be vocal about everyone else’s lack of initiative while eating like a queen.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s too dangerous. Look at what happened to Adam. The fey will never go for it.”
“I want the people who beat Adam to be caught and exiled. In order to do that, I need to see faces and have witnesses. The bunker had cameras all over the place. I want to do something similar. And I don’t plan on being alone. With your permission and Matt’s agreement, I’d like a fey to watch over me while I’m in Tenacity. Whoever volunteers would need to stay hidden at all times and understand he’s only there to observe. No violence under any circumstances.”
Mya was silent for a long moment.
“Every decision I’ve made has come down to a simple question. Will this help protect the people I care about?” She sighed. “The short answer is yes in this case. But the long answer is more complicated. Who are we to tell other people what to think? Don’t they have a right to their fears and biases just as we have a right to ours?”
“Everyone has a right to their own beliefs until those beliefs start harming people. If these people want to hate the fey, they can do it somewhere else. No violence.”
“Then, I agree to your plan.”
Chapter Twelve
Mya talked my plan over with Drav. He didn’t like it any more than she had. But his expression was nothing compared to Tor’s.
“No. It’s not safe,” he said fiercely.
“It will be safe. A fey presence is all the deterrent the humans will need. They aren’t stupid enough to try to attack me in front of a fey.”
“I promised Adam that I would keep you safe.”
“Think of it this way. If the troublemakers are removed, the relations between the two settlements will improve. That means more women will want to volunteer for those date nights and attend art classes.”
“And the massage sessions,” Mya added.
“There’s massages?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Mya grinned. “Angel’s been coaching Shax, and the others have been learning,
too. They need human volunteers, though. Ryan and Garrett get a massage after every supply run.”
“I might need to sign up for a few of those.”
“No sign up needed. There’s not much of a line.” She looked at Tor. “If you’re worried about her safety, you can volunteer to stay with her. I trust you’ll stay hidden and not cause any issues. And, like June said, this is going to open up some opportunities for you and your brothers in the long run. You’ll finally get your dinner date.”
Drav and Tor shared a long, doubt-filled look.
“I won’t be moving right away,” I added. “First, we’ll do the soup kitchen and take notes on how people react. We’ll learn who’s most likely to make trouble and also get a better idea of how many haters we’re dealing with. Only when we have that information will we move on to the next phase. It could take weeks.”
It could, but I knew it wouldn’t.
“We agree to the soup kitchen and learning about the troublemakers. We will talk again about you moving to Tenacity afterward,” Drav said.
“I’ll talk to Ryan and Matt,” Mya said. “Give me the rest of today to work on the logistics.”
“I’d like to stay involved,” I said.
“You will. I’ll get Matt on board. Ryan will need to push for a bigger supply run in the next day or two so we have enough food to cook for the masses. Emily will need at least a day to make sure the fey will know what’s expected of them in regard to cooking and serving the food.”
I knew Mya was thinking out loud now and listened.
“Matt’s going to need time to set up a temporary kitchen and tables.” She frowned for a moment.
“I’m betting we can find some tables at some local parks. Does anyone know the area well?” I asked.
“We do,” Drav said. “We will find tables.”
The discussion went on for another thirty minutes until we had a fairly solid plan. Tomorrow, I’d go to feight club and let Angel know what was happening so she could recruit some fey to cook and serve. Afterward, I’d go to Emily’s to help her come up with a training plan for the fey and for the food prep. Having a purpose and a goal felt good.
We left the house when the car lights already lit up the night sky. Tor was unusually quiet on the walk home.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“No. I’m worried. Are you taking risks because Adam hurt your heart?”
The insightful question made me pause. Tor was more perceptive than I’d realized. He was smarter, too.
“I’m not taking any risk that I haven’t already taken, Tor. I lived in Tenacity before coming here. And I’m going back because they hurt Adam, not because he hurt me. What those people did was wrong, and their actions are only going to get worse if someone doesn’t step in and stop them.”
“Matt can stop them.”
“He would have already if he could. He needs someone else to take the lead. Someone to be the fall guy if things go wrong, so he can maintain what little control he has.”
“I don’t like this.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for that. But this is important to me. The infected and hellhounds bring enough unrest to our lives. We shouldn’t be adding to it by fighting with each other. That needs to stop, or we’ll never have any peace.”
He opened the door for me and turned on the entry light as I hung up my jacket and slipped off my shoes.
“And having something to focus on right now is good for me. It helps keep my mind distracted from Adam.”
Tor shrugged out of his jacket and hung it beside mine.
“We could play games instead.”
“Or we could find bigger shirts for you. That can’t be comfortable,” I said, noting the way his shirt seemed glued to his chest and only slightly looser on his abs. It stopped a little shy of the waist line of his leather pants. “Where’d the shirts that fit go?”
Tor glanced down at himself and ran a hand over his chest.
“They all fit like this.”
“What? No way.” I told myself I would have noticed that. Wouldn’t I? I couldn’t unnotice it now.
Instead of heading toward the kitchen like I’d intended, I went upstairs and started rummaging through drawers. Most of his shirts were extra large. I found two double X’s.
“Try this one on,” I said, tossing it to him. He caught it and reached back with one hand to pull his shirt off from the neckline.
I stared at the rolling flex of his muscles and felt a flush rise to my cheeks as he tugged the new shirt into place. It still hugged his shoulders and chest, showing off his bulk.
Frowning, I picked up the shirt he’d worn and looked at the tag. A double X.
“This feels the same,” he said.
“Because it is. Sorry. When we go out for supplies, we’ll watch for bigger shirts.”
He grunted and tugged the new one off and made no move to put another one on.
“Mya said that we needed to wear shirts. Warmer clothes make us look more human. The shirts are not comfortable.”
He scratched at his chest and rolled his shoulders.
“This is better. Thank you.”
Crap. Had I just given him permission to walk around shirtless? My gaze swept over his torso before I hurried from the room.
“I’ll start dinner.”
“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked, following behind me.
“Sure. A movie sounds good. While I don’t mind the cartoons, maybe we could watch something a little more adult tonight?”
He grunted and went to the living room, giving me some space to collect my thoughts in the kitchen. So much had happened in the last forty-eight hours that I hadn’t really had time to process what had transpired between Tor and me.
Seeing him shirtless had brought it all back home, though. The man was built. Chiseled and buffed to perfection. Any blindness I’d had to it before was now gone, and I didn’t like that. It was safer to not see Tor and not remember how amazing he’d been when he’d—
Another wave of heat washed through me. My attempt to squash it proved futile and frustrated me to no end. I didn’t want to feel any attraction to Tor based on principle. It would be like admitting that Adam was right, which I refused to do.
Adam had been wrong to send Tor to wake me up. He was disillusioned if he thought breaking up with me would force me into Tor’s arms. I’d been fine without a man in my life before Adam came along. I’d be fine again.
“What are you in the mood for tonight?” I asked. “Ravioli sound good?”
“Is it in the red paste?”
“Is red paste bad?”
“Like sour cream and onion.”
I laughed and shuffled through the cans.
“You have a lot of ravioli for a guy who doesn’t like red paste. Which of these cans do you like?”
The sudden appearance of an arm reaching around me made me jump.
“Sorry,” he murmured, setting a hand on my other shoulder as he took a can of spam from the top shelf. “I like these.”
“Okay. I think I can work with that.”
He sat at the island and watched me dice the spam while some rice boiled.
“Do you think my plan will work?” I asked. “Will the people at Tenacity stop seeing fey as a threat if some of you serve them meals?”
“Maybe. Wearing clothes made some of the humans like us more. Giving them things made some of them pretend to like us. I like when you cook for me.”
I smiled at him, trying only to focus on his face.
“And I like that you’re so appreciative of it. Hopefully, the people in Tenacity will feel the same appreciation.”
He grunted.
“Do you want me to wake you up before Angel arrives tomorrow? She will want to know about your plan, too.”
“Sure,” I caught what I was agreeing to and quickly added, “But not in my favorite way. That was a one-time thing, okay?”
“Why only one time? I like your favorite way. It’s m
y favorite way, too.”
My insides went hot, and I turned away to find the can of peas and carrots.
“You said you liked it,” he said, hesitation filling his words.
I mentally cringed and knew I needed to handle the situation with more care.
“I did like it, Tor. But it was weird doing that with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.”
“I will be your boyfriend. Then it won’t be weird.”
Gripping the can, I faced him. He tilted his head as he studied me.
“Why are you red? Are you angry?”
“Nope. I’m embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“I feel like Adam took advantage of you by asking you to wake me up like that. I think he knew how much you’d like it, and he believed it would endear me to you enough that you’d keep me safe when he left. And in a way, I took advantage, too. I shouldn’t have let you do that when I was still with Adam. But I didn’t know it was you until at the very end.”
Tor said nothing for a long moment as his gaze held mine.
“You thought I was Adam,” he said slowly.
“I did. I’m really sorry.”
Tor looked down at the counter. The tips of his ears slowly darkened.
“I did something you didn’t want me to do.”
I shut off the stove and quickly rounded the counter. Heat radiated from his shoulder when I set my hand on him.
“Tor, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Adam asked you if you wanted me to wake you up. You said yes. I thought that was consent.”
“I know. It was a misunderstanding. I’m not mad at you, Tor. You heard the sounds I made. I liked what you did. But that’s why I’m embarrassed. I should have realized you weren’t Adam. I should have been able to tell the difference. And I’m worried that what we did together is going to give you false hope.”
He lifted his gaze to look at me.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not ready for a new boyfriend and might not be for a very long time. Or ever.”
He gently tweaked my chin.
“You don’t need to love me, June. I will still keep you safe.”
There was nothing I could say or do. He seemed to understand the situation perfectly, and he wasn’t upset or hurt even though I’d just nicely told him I had no intention of jumping into a relationship with him. Why, then, did I feel so guilty about it?
