by Amy Patrick
Now I couldn’t stop myself from thinking. Had I done the right thing today with Crystal and her family? Could I have done anything any different? I supposed I could have refused to alter their memories. Audun would have punished me, but he’d likely have had them killed before allowing the girl to testify against his profitable client. At least this way they were alive, and they were happy. I hoped ignorance would be blissful for them.
I knocked again, harder this time, worried the volume of the TV blaring inside was drowning out the sound. I hadn’t been able to reach any of my roommates by phone. After a minute, the door swung open, and Brenna’s happy-surprise face filled the space.
“Ava! You’re back in town. When did you get in?”
“Today.”
I stepped inside and glanced around. The place hadn’t changed at all since I’d left it, with its geometric printed carpet, spare, modern furniture, and narrow galley kitchen off to one side of the entryway. As always, it smelled like Chinese food in here, the one staple we could get any time of day or night, and cheaply.
“Anyone else in town?”
“Lena and Estelle—I don’t think you’ve met her yet. She’s in from Paris for a job. They’re already out for the night. My rehearsal ran late, so I just got home and changed.”
Brenna wore the kind of outfit that got you right in the door at the clubs, a sparkly gold strapless mini dress with swingy fringe at the bottom, perfect makeup, and huge hoop earrings. Her lean dancer’s legs were enhanced by sky high strappy sandals, putting her well over six feet tall.
“I was going to join them—now you can come too.” She smiled and picked up her purse from the table near the door.
I shook my head. “I can’t go out tonight. I have to pack.”
“What? Pack? Why?”
“I’m... moving in with Culley.”
“Culley Rune? Wow—that is so awesome. He is too beautiful. I heard you two were together but I haven’t seen you—I guess it’s true. So, you’re betrothed then?”
I raised my brows and blew out a breath. “Apparently so.”
She laughed. “Don’t even try to pretend you’re not totally stoked. Any one of us would give up our glamours to bond with him. So when are you moving out?”
“He’s expecting me tonight.”
“Oh my God! Wow. You are so lucky. Okay, well let me text Lena and tell them I’m not coming. I’ll stay and help you pack.”
She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. After a few seconds her face contracted in a regretful scrunch. “Ugh. There’s a Broadway producer there at the bar I’ve been dying to work with. They said they’re buying him drinks and holding him for me.” She squinted an apologetic glance at me. “I’d die to get a part in his production of Franklin. And I want to do it on my own, you know? Not because somebody swayed him into hiring me. Will you be so mad if I go meet him?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “You should go. Absolutely.”
She grinned, her dark bobbed curls bouncing as she bounded across the kitchen to hug me. “You are the best. I’ll see you around in the next day or two, right? Want to meet for lunch or something? That’s if you can stand to drag yourself out of bed.” Her eyebrows waggled and her voice put extra emphasis on bed.
I laughed at her silliness. “That sounds good. Have fun tonight. Good luck.”
As she closed the door behind her, I crossed the small living/dining space to the sofa, searching between the cushions for the TV remote. The volume of the national news program was so loud I could hardly hear myself think. Brenna must’ve had it turned up so she could hear it in her bedroom while she got dressed. For reasons I could never fathom, she’d always been a news junkie, fascinated by the drama of everyday human life and problems.
The anchor’s deep voice reverberated in my chest as I dropped to my knees to look under the sofa. “Police are baffled by the speed and severity of the new drug epidemic, and law enforcement lab technicians are working around the clock to determine the makeup of this powerful new designer drug...”
Failing to find the remote there, I went to the bedroom to look for it. Ah—there it was, on Brenna’s unmade bed. Grabbing it, I raced back into the living area and clicked off the deafening report on humankind’s latest miserable predicament. If I didn’t succeed at discovering what Audun’s latest plan was, they’d have a whole lot more to worry about than drugs and muggings—the return of fan pods, for instance, and eventually the return of Elven rule over their race.
I wondered how Lad and Ryann were doing in their quest to restore the tea production. And then I remembered my new phone. Pulling it from my purse, I dialed the number she’d given me.
“Hello?” Ryann’s voice from Mississippi sounded so clear she could’ve been next door.
“Hi. It’s Ava. I’m in New York. How are things there?”
She let out a heavy breath. “Still a mess. We couldn’t salvage much from the factory, but we’ve set up a temporary tea production operation in Altum. Should be able to get out a shipment in a couple of days. It’ll be small, but better than nothing. What are you doing in New York? I thought you and Culley were headed for California.”
“I thought so, too, but plans changed. Be careful. I saw Audun today, and he mentioned something about having spies in Altum. I’d keep a close eye on anyone you let near the tea production there.”
“Oh wow. Okay, thanks. I’ll make sure I give everyone a good thorough reading with my glamour and warn Lad, too. So, how did it go with Audun?”
“I’m still alive.” I gave a weak laugh. “So, I guess he doesn’t know about my treason. Not yet, anyway.”
“Culley didn’t tell him anything?”
“No. Actually... actually he stepped in to protect me. I don’t know. It was weird. I’m not sure what to think.”
“I think he cares about you. In fact, I know he does.”
“Um... I guess so. Well, anyway, I don’t really have anything to report to you yet. Audun didn’t say anything to indicate the Dark Council’s next move. He did confirm they plan to overthrow Nox, though. Hopefully Audun will summon me again in the next few days, and he’ll let something specific slip.”
“Do you think he still trusts you?”
“I think so. He had me do a job for him, and he’s confident of my loyalty because... well, he thinks Culley and I are bonded, so...”
There was a long pause. “Are you?”
“No,” I yelped. Then more quietly, I said, “No. Culley told his father that... but...” And that’s when it really hit me. My breaths shortened and picked up pace. “He lied. He lied to Audun. And Audun didn’t seem to know.”
“That’s interesting,” she said. “Listen, I have to get off the phone. Call Lad and tell him what you told me. Let me give you his number.”
I scribbled it down before we said good-bye then took a seat at one of the kitchen counter stools and focused on breathing normally. Culley lied to Audun. For me. But even more shocking than the fact he’d trick his father to protect me—the lie had worked.
Was Audun’s power slipping? Or was there a loophole? Maybe his son was immune. Or maybe he’d inherited his father’s gift.
What if Culley was not only able to make people see what they wanted to see, he could make them hear what they wanted to hear? Oh my. That would be an incredibly dangerous combination. Right now Culley was rather indifferent to all the political intrigue of the Dark Court. He was the king of live and let live. But if he ever got fully on board with Audun’s plans, he would be a formidable enemy.
Over the next three hours I packed up the clothes and personal items I kept in the flat. It shouldn’t have taken me that long. For one thing, I had to call Mother and explain why she wouldn’t be getting guaranteed lifetime support from Audun, thanks to my failure in Altum. Sadly, I couldn’t tell her the truth, and she wouldn’t have cared anyway. All she could think of was what she “deserved.”
For another—I dragged my feet a bit. The tru
th was, I wasn’t exactly eager to show up on Culley’s doorstep with my life in a box. He’d no doubt expect me to be grateful to him for saving my butt, and I was. But I wasn’t that grateful.
Not enough to actually bond with him, if that’s what he was expecting. I wasn’t going to do that with anyone. I was still planning to leave the Dark Court as soon as I could. Bonding with Culley would mess up all my plans for independence. It wouldn’t be fair to him anyway. He needed a bond-mate who was actually planning to stick around. He’d only get one chance, after all. He shouldn’t waste it on me.
My new phone rang, startling me with its foreign ring tone. I didn’t recognize the number but I answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Are you ready to move into your new home?”
“Oh, Culley. Yes. I just finished packing.”
“Excellent. There’s a car waiting for you downstairs. I know you have no money for a cab. I’ll instruct the driver to come up and help you bring your things down.”
“You’re not in the car?”
“No—I have some... things to do. I’ll be in late tonight. The driver knows the address. It’s apartment four on the eleventh floor. Make yourself at home. Choose any bathroom, any room you’d like to put your things.”
“Okay.” There was an awkward silence. “Thanks.”
He hesitated a moment before replying. “Sure. See you later, Angel.”
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of the driver/moving man and the beginning of my new life in New York, as short-lived as it might be.
Chapter Fourteen
Ruined
Culley’s apartment was beautiful. And spacious. So spacious, in fact, I hardly saw him for the next week.
Instead of chasing me around and demanding his “bond-mate rights” as I’d feared, he stayed gone most of the time, coming and going at all hours of the day and night with hardly a word to me. Like me, he had a few modeling jobs. But even at night when he wasn’t working, he was “out” and less than forthcoming about where “out” was. Every night since I’d moved in I went to bed alone in the apartment, unable to wait up for whenever it was he managed to make it home.
It was for the best, really. So much better than having him there all the time making provocative remarks, or worse, making me feel sorry for him. It was lonely though.
I did have lunch with Brenna once, and later in the week invited her and Lena and Estelle over for drinks at my new “home.”
“Wow, this place is incredible,” Lena said, wandering from window to window, taking in the view of Central Park. It was nearly Thanksgiving, and the trees below were gorgeous, a colorful scarf spread out right in the middle of the gray city.
“Where eese heese bedroom?” Estelle asked, her lilting Parisian accent making even that nosy question sound elegant. She had been in New York only a couple of weeks, and her English wasn’t perfect. Of course it was a hell of a lot better than my French.
“Estelle—it’s their bedroom,” Brenna chided. “He’s off the market. You know that.” She looked over at me with an apologetic glance, as if her roommate’s predatory behavior was somehow her fault.
“Sorry,” Estelle said, not sounding the least bit sorry. “Ee doesn’t act bonded. I see eem out at zee dance clubs every night, smiling at all the girls, boys too, dancing, drinking...” She slid a glance over at me. “... having conversations in dark corners.”
Though it was none of my business what Culley did every night—in plain view or in dark corners—my face heated until I felt like I’d drunk way more of my mojito than I actually had. I stepped into the kitchen and picked up the tray of appetizers I’d prepared for us all.
“Come have a seat in here,” I called, carrying the tray to a wide low table in front of the sectional sofa. This room as well had a gorgeous view.
Unfortunately, it also had a giant TV, which Brenna zeroed in on with glee. “Oh, you are so lucky. Look at this baby.” She picked up the remote and turned it on, skipping through channels until it landed on a local New York news program. Of course.
“Also breaking tonight, city hospitals are reporting another round of overdoses in what’s now being called the “S Scourge.”
The stylish newscaster had a graphic over one shoulder that looked like a pill emblazoned with the letter S. “Authorities say it’s the fastest-moving and most addictive drug epidemic they’ve ever encountered,” she said. “New York officials are moving quickly to assemble an S task force to locate the source of the drug and working together with officials up and down the East Coast to target and shut down distribution. Donald Trump has already called a press conference on the matter, blaming foreign immigrants for the influx of the powerful and incredibly popular club drug.”
“Where can I get some?” Estelle asked with a wicked grin.
“Estelle!” Lena chided. “You know Audun’s strictly forbidden us to use it.”
Estelle giggled. “You Americans are so provincial. And Audun is about as fun as your police. What about free will? If I want to do something, I should be able to. Why should the humans get all the fun? And if they want to use it, let them use it. Let them all O.D.—who cares?”
I said nothing but stared at the TV screen as if thoroughly interested. But in my mind, the girls’ conversation replayed. Audun had forbidden his subjects to use S.
So he was aware of it. Why had he not included me in this sanction? Maybe he knew I spent my time either working or home alone. Maybe he assumed I knew better than to take drugs. Maybe I was out of sight out of mind as far as he was concerned. That would have suited me very well, thank you—except that I needed to get information from him. Which meant I needed to see him. Maybe I should request a meeting, make up some concern about my mother as an excuse.
The phone rang loudly through the apartment. I hated the ringer on that thing. Not only did I have to hear it frequently—and the answering machine that went with it—but it was loud enough to be clearly audible even over the TV and our conversation in the other room.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Lena asked after several rings.
I shook my head. “No. It’s not for me. It rings all day and night. It’s always for Culley. The machine will get it.”
The girls all went quiet as Culley’s recorded voice echoed down the hall. “Hey. It’s me. But I guess you knew that. Leave a message, and I’ll try to ring you back later.”
“God I love that accent,” said Brenna.
“Shhh,” said Estelle and Lena together, both leaning toward the hallway, listening.
The beep sounded, followed by a very typical message. “Hi Culley. This is Lilly. From Marquee Nightclub? I haven’t heard from you in a while, and I just wanted to say hi. I’m available tonight if you want to stop by my place or something. Or I could meet you out somewhere. Okay then, hope to hear from you soon. Bye.”
The other girls looked at me.
“That happens all day and night?” Brenna said. “You should start answering that phone and tell those skanks to stay away from your man.”
“Absolument!” Estelle agreed. “I would not stand for theese.”
Flushing furiously, I stood and gathered the used plates and silverware. “It’s his business. It’s no big deal.”
What I couldn’t tell them was it really wasn’t my concern. I would be leaving Culley soon. It was good that he had so many other girls interested in him. Really, it was.
But late that night after the girls had left and he still wasn’t home, I had to admit to myself it did bother me. It was annoying. Especially when the phone rang at nearly midnight. This time I did march toward it, intending to pick it up and tell whichever little club girl was calling to at least have some manners about the late hour. Before I could reach it, the call went to the answering machine. It was not a sexy feminine plea but a man’s voice.
“It’s Anders. I didn’t uh... see you tonight. I don’t know if you came by already or what.” The sounds of music and voi
ces hummed in the background. The man was nearly shouting over the din, and he sounded decidedly un-sober. “I’m at Cielo. Some friends of mine are here, too, and we’re ready to ride the S train, so look for me if you stop by.”
My heart seized. The S train. Was he talking about S—the drug on the news? Was Culley doing drugs? Maybe that’s why he stayed out late every night, why he’d changed so suddenly and grown distant. Maybe he’d gotten caught up in the epidemic that was sweeping New York and apparently the entire East Coast.
I’d rarely heard of Elves doing drugs—it didn’t affect them strongly enough to be... enjoyable, or whatever drugs were supposed to be. But the news report did say this drug seemed to be different, powerful and highly addictive. Maybe some scientist had developed a super-drug that could affect even the Elven body and mind? It made me sick to think of Culley falling under the influence of something so insidious. I would talk to him about it the next time I managed to get him alone.
The sound of the front door opening caused me to jump out of my skin.
“Culley?” I called, scurrying toward the entry hall.
It was him. His back was to me as he fastened the deadbolt. His shoulders were slumped. He looked exhausted.
“Culley... where have you been? Are you okay?”
He spun around as if just hearing me. A wide grin spread across his face and he moved toward me, staggering slightly. Oh no. He is on drugs.
But when he reached me, it was the odor of alcohol that met my nose. He slid his arms around my waist and lifted me off my feet. “There’s the little wifey—still awake. Were you waiting up for me?” he slurred. Putting me down, he staggered past me toward the kitchen. “Ha—I’ll bet you missed me so much. Probably had a party.” He must have spotted the dishes and cocktail glasses on the counter because he added, “You did have a party, cheeky monkey. And I wasn’t invited. Big surprise.”
