by Jackie May
Everyone in the room except Parker and Henry gasps, but I barely notice. My gaze is locked on the man I’d remembered as my savior for the last nine years. The scared but brave boy who made the horror stop and got me help. “You thought about it all the way there. I could see what had happened in your mind, and I felt your fear that you’d be in trouble for killing them.”
Seeing his fear even now, I offer him my sincerest smile. “I would never have told anyone on you, Oliver. You saved my life that night. You were a hero.”
Oliver swallows hard and then gives me the faintest smile. When he looks away, I glance up at Nick and Director West. “He saved me. You can’t punish him for that.”
Director West gives me a gentle smile. “Oh, don’t worry. It sounds like there’s no need to look into that. We know Oliver’s character, and we know he’s got control of his magic now.”
“Of course, now we understand why he won’t use it,” Nick grumbles.
My head snaps toward Oliver. “You don’t use your magic? Because of that night? Those men were evil, Oliver. Your magic saved me. It’s a gift. And you must be powerful to have done that kind of damage accidentally at such a young age.”
“Extremely powerful,” Nick says. “There’s only one other sorcerer with as much power as him in all of the Midwest.”
“But he’s always refused to use his magic,” Director West adds. “We originally hired him hoping we could eventually teach him to trust himself. We could really use a sorcerer like him.”
He’s the most powerful sorcerer in Detroit? Suddenly, something in my mind clicks. “Wait!” Oliver’s eyes snap to mine. He knows what I’ve just figured out. “You’re SorcererX?”
He meets my eyes and gives me a crooked grin. It’s so adorable I find myself grinning back.
“Who’s SorcererX?” Nick asks.
“He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real friend. SorcererX is a guy I met in a paranormal chat room when I was desperate for answers about the underworld. Once I decided he was legit, I started asking him questions. He’s been feeding me bits of information ever since.”
“Nothing illegal,” Oliver says quickly at all the raised eyebrows. “I never outright gave up our secrets. I only ever cleared up some of her confusion when she learned something new, or corrected her misconceptions. I cautioned her about things, but I never told her anything she didn’t already know.”
I slump against my seat. My mind is so blown right now. “You’re SorcererX. The closest person I’ve ever had to a real friend is also the boy who once saved my life. I can’t even…”
Oliver lets out a long breath. “I’ve wanted to introduce myself to you for so long, but you’re so skittish.”
I cringe, remembering the way I’d blown him off when he tried to help me on the bus. “Sorry about on the bus last night. It wasn’t personal.”
Oliver shrugs. “It’s okay. I didn’t blame you. I know you’ve had a rough life. I’d be wary of strangers, too.”
I start to tell him he’s not a stranger anymore, but another question rises. “Wait. How did you know it was me online? And how did you know I had powers? Have you really been watching me all these years?”
Oliver sighs. “Your story was in the newspaper the morning after I took you to the hospital, so I learned your name. I couldn’t help keeping an eye on you after that. It was a bad neighborhood, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out your home life was rough. It also didn’t take me long to realize you knew about the underworld. I didn’t mean to stalk you or anything; I was just worried that you’d somehow remembered me using magic.
“But then I realized you were different, too. Human, but hiding a secret of your own. I knew you knew of the underworld, knew you were researching it. But you only seemed to want to know more so that you could keep yourself safe. After the system bounced you through a couple foster homes, I lost track of you, but I still worried so I reached out online. I knew the screen name and the chat room you used. Anyway.” He clears his throat again. “Sorry if that freaks you out. I swear I only ever wanted to help keep you safe.”
He’s so sweet. He’s totally forgiven for the stalking. I pat his hand and smile so that he knows I understand. “I’m sure you did. Thanks for looking out for me. Just please don’t be a stalker about it anymore, okay? Friends?”
He’s staring down at my hand covering his, but glances up when I say friends. His eyes alight with hope. He can’t believe I don’t hate him right now. He’s wanted me to know him for so long, but he was afraid I’d remember him or figure out the truth, and he was sure I’d never speak to him again. He thinks I’m an angel. Perfect.
I pull my hand away, not wanting to hear any more of his thoughts.
“You’re really not mad?” he asks.
“That you saved my life when I was thirteen and have looked out for me ever since? That you’ve been helping me navigate the underworld? That you happen to be the closest friend I have in the world, even if we only know each other online? No. I’m really not mad.”
He grins at me, eyes wide in wonderment, as if he can’t believe this is really happening. I know the feeling.
Nick breaks up the moment. “Well.” He claps his hands together loudly, startling poor Oliver out of his skin. “This little reunion has been very sweet, but unlike the vamps, I’m not nocturnal, and it’s starting to get late. “Come on, Spitfire. Let’s get you home.”
Home. Even with the possibility of Xavier lurking nearby, the idea of sleeping in my own bed away from any vampires is heavenly.
It’s not until we’re in the parking lot out front of the Agency that Henry approaches me. I give him a flat look, and Nick crosses his arms over his chest. Nick’s not nearly the size of my troll bouncer friend—he has the build more of a UFC fighter—but he’s every bit as scary. Again, I wonder what kind of underworlder he is. I bet it’s something totally badass.
Henry puffs out a breath. “Nora—”
“Do I need to get a restraining order before I leave?”
Henry ignores my threat. “Are you really going home?”
“I’m sure as hell not going back with you.”
“I understand you’re upset with me, but your home isn’t safe. Come back to the estate. At least for the night.” When I roll my eyes, he grudgingly adds, “I won’t come near you. I just want you safe.”
Yeah. Not buying that.
“Hang on,” Nick says. “He has a point. That creep still lives next door to you.”
“Yes,” Terrance adds, abandoning his own car to join our conversation. “You can’t go home.”
One look at Terrance’s face, and I know I won’t be living in my apartment anymore. I give it my best shot anyway. “Xavier is a perverted psychopath, and he’s got an obsession with me. But I’ll be fine. I’ve been dodging him for months already. He’s probably still feeling the effects of his encounter with Cecile, and I only need a day or two to pack my stuff and figure out a plan.”
Terrance’s jaw clenches. When his pupils start to dilate to all black again, Nick places a hand on his arm. “Easy, friend. We won’t let any harm come to your young one. The Agency has a few housing capabilities. We’ll figure something out for her.”
I’m as surprised by Nick’s serious-but-gentle tone as I am by his choice of words. He’s talking to Terrance as if Terrance has a claim over me. “What do you mean his young one?”
“Nothing,” Terrance says quickly. His voice is gruff, and he rubs the back of his neck as if a flush is creeping up it. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry. Trolls have…very strong protective instincts. Sometimes those instincts take over.”
I let out a relieved breath. For a moment there, I thought he was going to go all crazy like Henry and try to claim I’m his mate or something. “Right.” I force a laugh. “I could have guessed that. Hey, it’s okay. I think it’s cool that I’m friends with The Hulk.”
Terrance’s nerves disappear, and he bursts out with a huge belly laugh. “Th
e Hulk. It’s an apt comparison,” he says. “But I don’t like the idea of you going home to live next to that pervert. I have a couple spare rooms. You’re welcome to take your pick, if you’d consider bunking down at my place until you figure out where you want to go.”
Normally, I’d turn down the offer without hesitation. Stay at a single man’s place? No way in hell. But Terrance isn’t putting out any lusty vibes. He wants to protect me. It’s his troll instincts. I can’t deny I’d feel safer at his place than I would staying at home with Xavier close by. “Yeah, okay,” I say slowly, testing it out to make sure I’m really okay with it. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Terrance grins. “It’s no trouble, Trouble.”
I roll my eyes, but my smile stretches wide. “All right. Sure. That would be nice. Thank you.”
“Awesome.” Nick claps again and starts up his motorcycle. “If that’s all taken care of, I’m out. I’ll see you around, Spitfire. Take care, and try to stay out of trouble.”
After he roars out of the parking lot, Terrance opens the passenger door of his red Caddy.
It fits him perfectly. “I like your ride, T-man. Very pimp.”
“Well, I am a nightclub owner.”
“I thought you were the bouncer.” I’m teasing. I’d already figured out he owned the place.
He gives me a terrifying grin. “That’s just a hobby.”
“And that’s why I like you.”
When he waves me forward, Henry hisses.
“Are you still here?” I snap. He’s seriously grating on my last nerve.
“You refuse my offer, but you’ll go home with him?”
“Oh. In a heartbeat. And I won’t lose a wink of sleep over it. Have a nice life, Henry.”
I flip him off and climb into Terrance’s car. Driving away from him seconds later is the most satisfying feeling in the world.
Terrance and I are quiet as we leave my apartment with a few of my meager belongings. I don’t have to read his thoughts to know he’s thinking of his missing potential mate. I want to tell him everything will be okay. That we’ll find Shandra, and everything will end happily. But I can’t bring myself to promise that. I know things don’t always have happy endings. In fact, in my experience, they rarely do. Even if we do find her, chances are we’ll be too late to help her. We probably already are.
I try to lighten the mood and distract him. “I may have had a hell of a last twenty-four hours, but I got you and Oliver out of the ordeal. I’ve never had real friends before. Thank you, Terrance.”
Terrance slides me a quick glance, and answers me with a grunt and a shrug of his shoulders. Then he flips the radio on. I turn my head toward my window so that he doesn’t see me smile. Note to self: trolls don’t do sappy, sentimental stuff. At least not my troll. I grin again. My troll.
We let the peace ride for a while as we head toward downtown. It makes sense. I can see Terrance living in one of the nicer apartment towers. But when we hit the heart of the city, we keep driving, zooming past the Cobo Center and Joe Louis Arena into the westside industrial area. I might fear for my life if it were anyone but Terrance behind the wheel. But I know he’ll keep me safe, so I don’t say anything when the city center high-rises give way to dilapidated warehouses.
We’re not too far from the water’s edge, driving on a street parallel to the river, and after a few minutes, the Ambassador Bridge looms in the air above me. The Ambassador Bridge is the only bridge in the city that crosses the Detroit River connecting it with its neighbor Windsor, Canada. I’m not worried that I don’t have a passport, because Terrance isn’t getting on the bridge; he’s taking us under it. “Under the bridge?” I blurt when I get it. I can’t help my disbelief. “You actually live under a bridge?”
Terrance slides me a glance. “You’ve never heard of a troll living under a bridge?”
“Of course; in scary stories or children’s fables. But I didn’t think you guys actually lived under bridges.”
He shrugs. “Stories have to come from somewhere.”
We reach a large cement bridge support closed off by a high chain-link fence. When Terrance stops in front of the closed gate, I assume he’s going to get out and unlock it. He looks up at the bridge and smiles. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
It’s no Golden Gate, but I have to admit it’s pretty cool.
Terrance suddenly hits the gas and, without warning, drives right through the fence. I start to gasp, but I feel the tingle of magic right before we hit, and realize it’s merely a glamour to keep people away.
Terrance pulls to a stop in front of the bridge support and watches me as I force myself to relax. “You took that pretty well. You’re one brave little human.”
“It helps that I understand glamours and can feel the magic. A warning would have been nice, though.”
“You can feel the magic?”
“Sort of. A little. It’s hard to explain. Why, can’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m a magical being. All magical beings can feel magic’s presence.”
I shrug. “Well, maybe your theory of my having underworld blood in me is right. Who knows?”
“It’s definitely curious. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
After exiting the car, Terrance snatches my bag from the backseat before I can and heads for the cement structure in front of us. There’s a dimly lit steel door in the base of the bridge support with a large sign warning people to keep out and that trespassers will be prosecuted. I snort. “Nice welcome mat.”
Terrance grins at the sign. “I think so. No one’s welcome here, Trouble. ’Cept you, now.”
This startles me. “No one?”
He stops unlocking the door and glances at me with unease. “I guess, uh, if you have friends or, um, lovers, as long as they already know of the underworld, they are welcome here, too.”
He rubs the back of his neck and starts fiddling with the door lock again. His shyness is cute. Adorable, even. For such a big, formidable-looking man, I’m amazed he can accomplish such a feat. Suppressing a grin, I ask, “What about your friends and lovers?”
His discomfort finally passes, and he manages a surly grunt as he leads me inside and down a steep set of stairs. The door behind us closes, plunging us into the dark. Terrance doesn’t seem to have a problem with this. Thank heavens there’s a railing. It’s the only reason I don’t tumble down the stairs.
“Trolls don’t mingle much outside their clans,” Terrance answers as I follow him into what feels like an endless abyss. “My clan is up North.”
“Are you saying you don’t have any friends? No lovers?”
I frown when I get no vocal response from Terrance. He probably shrugged again. Not that I can tell in the dark. I’ll have to point out my human lack of night vision and invest in a good flashlight.
“None?” I press. Not that it’s such an impossible thought—I don’t have any friends or lovers, either—but Terrance doesn’t strike me as the loner type. Plus, he’s been so good to me. I don’t like the idea of him being lonely. “I find that hard to believe, T-Man. Your employees seem to like you, and you’ve been nothing but friendly with me from the moment we met.”
It takes him a minute to answer, and when he does, he grumbles as if he doesn’t like the focus of this conversation. “My temper is mild for a troll, and I’m used to being in the city around others. I also pay well and provide a good benefits package.”
He obviously wants to drop the subject, but I can’t let it go. “I suppose that explains the employees, but not why you’ve decided to take me in.”
He grunts his dissatisfaction, but answers me anyway. “You’re different.”
It’s all the answer I’m going to get, but that’s okay because I’d rather avoid that subject. I am different. Not that I know why. My inexplicable allure has always bothered me. It’s much worse with some than others. Terrance falls on the not-as-affected side. Perhaps because he’s telling the truth, and trolls generally don’t
like anyone outside of their clans.
We reach the bottom of the staircase and, thankfully, Terrance flips a light switch. He turns his head away, to hide his pink cheeks, and waves his hand around the main living area. The space is shockingly large. It has a ten-foot high ceiling at least, and the doors and hallways that break off from it are all at least double, maybe triple the width of a normal human house. I’m grateful to see painted drywall and not the carved-out dirt cavern I expected. It looks like a normal house minus any windows. A really nice house.
It’s tastefully decorated despite its clear bachelor pad/man cave feel. There’s a large television mounted on the wall that has to be seventy-two inches at least, several huge leather sectional sofas, and a couple of recliners. In the far corner there is a pool table near a large built-in wet bar that looks like a smaller scale of the bar in his club.
“There’s a bathroom over there, but each bedroom has a private bathroom as well.” Terrance points to a door on the other side of the room, then heads into a large arched entryway that brings us into a massive kitchen and dining area. The kitchen could cater to a large restaurant and the dining table could seat at least twenty. “I keep the fridge well stocked. You’re welcome to anything you can find, and if you have any special requests, just let me know.”
I’m still gawking at the kitchen when he leads me through another archway into a long hallway with a number of doors. He walks to the second door on the left and leads me into a modest bedroom. It’s nothing like the suite Henry kept me in, but it’s the largest room that I’ve ever stayed in by at least double. There’s a king-size bed, a large dresser, a walk-in closet, and a private bathroom. The room is decorated in warm browns and greens—earthy colors.
Terrance drops my bag on the large bed and can’t quite meet my eyes as he says, “My room is next door. I figured you’d want to be close. But if you don’t like this one, there are several other rooms to choose from.”
