James’ gaze slid down her body. “You’re sure about that?”
“Absolutely positive. For so many reasons.” Each one more important than the next. “See, this is why I can’t stay here. You’re not going to stop, are you?”
“Stop what?”
“Looking at me like that,” Mercy said. “Talking like you do. All of it.”
“No. I couldn’t even if I tried.” He gave a sensual laugh, his grin widening.
She balled her hands into fists and planted them on her hips. She couldn’t resist leaning forward even though she knew the move brought her closer to him, and that was the last place she needed to be. “Well, try harder.”
He leaned closer too, but there was nothing aggressive in his stance. If anything, his movements became more languid.
“It’s not just me,” he said. “There’s a way you look at me, Mercy, and it’s far from cold. The sound of your voice touches me just as deep. And, because you’ve mistaken me for a gentleman, I won’t even mention what I felt when we kissed. So, why should we deny our feelings?”
“Because they’re not real.”
“That’s not true.”
“Okay, but whatever they are, they’re not love.”
“But they could be.”
Mercy wanted to growl. She closed her eyes and deliberately slowed her breath. Her arguments weren’t getting through to him. She needed to try another way. She steeled herself with the truth before looking back up at him.
“I’m sorry, James, but that’s not going to happen,” she said. “I understand how difficult your situation is. Your life can’t go back to normal until someone falls in love with you, but I refuse to give up everything I’ve worked so hard for—my family, my community, myself—for a few burning kisses and a charming smile.”
“Give me a chance,” he tried, his voice thick with sensual promise. “I swear I could make you feel things that would erase the memory of every sacrifice you’ve ever made.”
“Damn it, James, I don’t want to forget them,” she said, not caring if his friends could hear her through the door. “They’ve made me who I am.”
“And now you have the chance to become something new.”
“You really have no idea what love is, do you?” Mercy’s brows pulled together. For the first time, she felt sorry for him. “It’s not just something you feel. It’s something you do. It’s decisions you make day after day that show what’s truly important to you.”
“You are important to me, sweetheart.”
“Sure. Right now,” Mercy said. “But how about once the curse is broken and this is over? What’s going to happen then? That’s the part you don’t get, James. I’ve fought too hard for my future to throw it away on some guy who needs me to make his dreams come true, but has no plans of sticking around for mine.”
“Mercy, I…” For a second, she thought he was going to argue with her, like he always did, but this time the words died in his throat. He just stared at her, not even blinking. Bit by bit, his confident smile slid away. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” she said honestly. “I know you were hoping for a different answer, but your friends are right. There are a lot of other women in the world. I know there’s someone perfect for you out there.”
Why did the words taste sour in her mouth?
“If you say so,” he said.
A long moment of silence passed. Neither said a word. Neither moved an inch. Mercy knew there wasn’t anything more to say, but somehow she didn’t want to go. Not yet.
But what she wanted didn’t matter. She needed to go.
“I’ll take Emily up on her offer to drive me home,” she said, trying to step around him.
He blocked her path. “No, you won’t.”
“James—”
“Your life is still in danger,” he said, wrapping his hand around her arm. She didn’t try to pull away. If anything, she resisted the urge to lean in closer. “And I am still responsible for keeping you safe.”
“But you said Flint wouldn’t be back for days.”
“I said he probably wouldn’t,” he said. “And even if he stays in the Realm, you’ve become far too important to let you out of my sight. There are too many ordinary dangers filling your streets.”
“I’m pretty sure I can handle them,” she said, dropping her voice. “God knows, I’ve made it this far on my own.”
“Things are different now.” He loosened his grip, his fingers cascading down the length of her arm as he let her go. She didn’t step away. “I’m sorry, Mercy, but your life is too important for you to take any unnecessary risks. Which means either you stay with one of the other exiles, or you stay with me. Your choice.”
His blue eyes flashed with challenge. He had to know there was only one choice. She didn’t want to spend five minutes alone with any of those guys let alone a whole night.
“Are you honestly planning on staying with me every single moment until this is over?” she asked.
“I am,” he said, his voice firmer than ever.
“Even when I go to work and school?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
Mercy shrugged. “Well, I should probably tell you I make a terrible wingman when you start hitting the bars.”
For the first time, he didn’t look even vaguely amused. “I’ll cope.”
He’d do more than cope. He’d thrive. Mercy had no doubt. All he’d have to do was flash that smile, and the women would flock to him in droves, whether she was there or not.
But she would be. She’d be there to hear and see everything. To watch as another woman batted her eyes at him. As he flirted back. As they leaned close and…
Yeah, that was enough of that. Mercy was just about to shake her head to dislodge the image when she heard a loud familiar shout from beyond the bedroom.
Emily.
Mercy threw open the door just in time.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Emily’s voice filled the entire apartment.
Emily stormed out of the kitchen, her face bright red. Fenrir was right behind her.
Mercy’s heart sank. What had she been thinking? She knew better than to leave Emily on her own with this group. What the hell had they done? A bolt of guilt shot through her gut as Emily locked eyes with her.
“I don’t know who this friend of yours thinks he is, but you’d better get him away from me right now or I won’t be responsible for my actions,” she said.
Fenrir followed right behind her, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I like this one. She has just as much spirit as your woman, Hook.”
Spirit? Oh, God no.
“We’ll see how much you like my spirit when you’re prying my shoe out of your ass,” Emily muttered. “This jerk just told me I had sturdy, childbearing hips. What the hell is that about?”
Mercy opened her mouth, but no words came out. There weren’t any to describe just how sorry she was.
“She does,” Fenrir said, throwing gasoline on a tire fire. “Think of the children she could give me. Imagine how many hard winters she could survive.”
“How many what?” The cords in Emily’s neck popped out.
“Stop talking, Fenrir,” Mercy tried.
“You’re right, Hook.” The wolf went on as if no one had said a word. “This love thing is easy. I choose this woman.”
Fenrir tried to clasp a hand around Emily’s shoulder, but she flew back so quickly, Mercy feared she might land on her butt.
“That’s it. Where do you keep your knives?” she asked once she’d regained her balance. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Maybe it would be better if you just went home, Em,” Mercy said.
“You’re right,” Emily said, shooting Fenrir one last glare. “He’s not worth having to hire a defense attorney.” She started for the front door. “You coming, Mercy?”
Mercy shook her head. “No, I guess I’m going to spend the night here.”
Emily paused, her hand w
rapped around the doorknob. “You sure?”
“I am,” Mercy said with a nod. “I’ll call you first thing tomorrow.”
Emily’s gaze narrowed as she shot one last fury-filled look around the room. “You bet your ass you will.”
Chapter Eleven
“James.”
James’ eyelids cracked open at Mercy’s soft voice. He snapped them shut the next instant as the first golden streaks of sunlight poured through his uncovered windows and into his dreams. He turned over on his side, away from the early morning rays.
It was too early to wake up without a good reason.
A second later, that good reason reached out and tapped him on the back of the head with something hard…and warm.
“Dude. Wake up.”
He reluctantly rolled back and looked up to find Mercy looming over him, two steaming mugs in her hand. Rich aroma floated over to his nose.
Coffee.
“I don’t know how you take it,” Mercy said, setting a mug on the table next to him, “so I left yours black.”
“You made coffee?”
He had no idea how he’d slept through that. He usually roused at the slightest sound. Of course, last night wasn’t a usual night.
“I figured we both needed some with the day we have planned,” she said. “Besides, it’s the least I could do after you let me have your bed.”
After Mercy’s brutal explanation, James didn’t even attempt to join her in his bed. He understood her reasons, and—even worse—deep down, he agreed with every one. So, he’d decided to give her space and sleep stretched out on the firm cushions of his couch instead.
At least that had been the plan. What he’d ended up doing was staring at the ceiling as the dark hours rolled by.
It was the first sleepless night he’d suffered through since he’d landed in this prison world. Hell, one of the first he could remember in his whole life. And definitely the only that had been brought on by an attack of conscience.
Until last night, James hadn’t been sure he even had one of those. Sure, he’d heard about them. They always seemed damned inconvenient things. Turned out, he was right.
No matter how many times he’d closed his eyes and fought for sleep, the same image kept popping up in his mind—the look in Mercy’s eyes when she’d told him that he would never truly sacrifice anything for her.
And she was right.
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not even if he wanted to. His whole life had been one long lesson in how to live for himself. How to take what he needed. How to survive. Sure, there were people that he cared about. But they existed on the periphery of his life. He never let them get too close. Never let his emotions run too deep. Never risked anything for them.
He wasn’t even sure he knew how.
Mercy was right. She was worth a hell of a lot more than he was willing to give. She was more valuable than every lousy relic he’d ever laid his hands on. She was priceless.
That was exactly why he’d tried to collect her.
And the real reason why he never would.
Mercy’s declaration wasn’t the only worry that kept him awake. It was everything in his life. As the hours ticked by his mind swirled faster and faster, keeping sleep far out of reach.
Nothing was going to plan. He’d not only screwed everything up with Mercy, he’d also endangered her life. He’d brought the exiles together only to watch them bicker and fight every time they got within a few feet of each other. He’d ruined the best chance they had at communicating with Hades. Now he had Flint to deal with.
At this rate he was never going to see the Realm again.
Unless…
Unless he found a way back for himself.
Mercy had planted the idea when she’d asked about throwing the scales back through one of Flint’s portals. She’d been right. Tossing the relic through would certainly sever the connection between her and the magic that threatened to burn her alive, but simply tossing the pin in alone would be a waste…especially if he could escort it through.
The plan wasn’t perfect. He’d have to be in just the right spot when the portal opened. He’d have to make it through the fae guards. Hell, he’d probably have to kill one of the travelers to ensure he could take their place. That part, at least, wouldn’t be too difficult. He knew the perfect guy to target.
Flint.
But even if he somehow managed all that, jumping through a portal meant landing back in the palace. He’d have to carry enough relics to shield himself from every possible attack. Not that it had helped him before. Of course, this time he’d have surprise on his side. No exile had ever tried to escape before. Why would they when they’d only spend the rest of their brief lives running from hunters?
And Oberon’s response against the rest of the exiles would be just as ruthless. He’d send the best of his warriors after them. Even if they somehow survived the onslaught, they’d be trapped on Earth with no hope of ever returning home.
But, in all honesty, they weren’t that far from that situation right now. Day by day, their chances of success were growing slimmer. James would just be grasping the only lifeline that he could see. No one could fault him for that.
No one but Mercy.
And in a way she already had. Last night, she’d proven she understood him better than anyone else.
I’ve fought too damn hard for my future to throw it away on some guy who needs me to make his dreams come true but has no plans of sticking around for mine.
No, she wouldn’t be surprised at all. But she would be safe…and he’d be home.
In the end, those were the only two things that mattered.
James had hoped after figuring all that out he’d finally be able to get some rest. No such luck. He tossed and turned for several more hours before sleep finally found him.
Now she had roused him far too early.
“What time is it?” he asked with a yawn.
“Six thirty.”
“In the morning?” He pushed his arms out to the side, stretching out the muscles of his bare chest as he sat up on the couch. “Why in the world are you awake?”
“My first class starts in an hour.” Her voice sounded strange, almost breathy. He looked over and found her gaze fixed on his naked torso. She teased her bottom lip with her teeth before quickly turning her attention to the bottom of her coffee cup.
A satisfied smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. She might never fall in love with him, but she couldn’t pretend she was indifferent. Suddenly, James wished that he’d taken his pants off before settling on the couch last night instead of just his shirt.
“You can’t be serious,” he said.
“Of course, I am,” she said. Her gaze went straight to his eyes this time. “Though if you’re no longer interested in playing bodyguard, I’m more than happy to go by myself. I have some errands to run after class, but I can always meet you along with the rest of the exiles out at the labyrinth like we planned.”
“No, no. I’m coming with you.” James made a show of rolling his shoulders back as he reached for his cup. The move earned him another heated glance. “I just didn’t expect my day to start so early.”
“Welcome to my life,” Mercy said, with a shrug. At least she looked like she’d managed to get a decent night’s sleep. Either that or she had more experience with this groggy sensation than he did.
She walked to the window and rested her arm against the pane. She took a long sip of coffee as she stared at the towering view. The city and bay spread out before her. She didn’t get that at her grandmother’s third floor apartment.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said.
She didn’t turn around. He watched her expression turn to steel in the reflection. “Yes, it does.”
“Hear me out,” he said, rising from the sofa. “I’ve acquired a great deal of wealth since coming to your world.”
“Acquired? You mean, stole.”
James shrugged as he walked
over to her side. “The point is I have more than I plan to spend in my time here. It will have to go to someone once I’ve left.”
Mercy laughed, though there wasn’t a hint of humor in the sound. “I said it the first time we met, James, and I’ll say it again. I don’t want your money.” She turned her head away. “I’m not for sale.”
“And I’m not trying to buy you,” he said, moving closer. “I’m trying to make amends for the trouble I’ve caused.”
“You want to make amends?” she asked. “Then give back all the things you stole.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Almost all the people and places I took from were well compensated for their loss.”
“Almost?” Mercy arched a brow. “That still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want your money, James.”
“What do you want?”
She turned toward him and drew in a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell under her wrinkled dress. Her loose curls, pulled into a simple ponytail, brushed lightly against the curve of her cheek—currently lit up in the most alluring shade of pink.
“Right now, what I really want is for you to put a damned shirt on,” she said with an exasperated growl. “Then I want you to take me to class, so I can get on with my life.”
True to his word, James stayed with her all day.
He’d called for a car to drive her to school and sat by her side on the way. He kept his mouth shut as she tried to smooth things over with Emily on the phone, and he kept to himself as she made her way through a full day of classes. He’d even taken her back to her apartment so she could shower and pack a bag, before they headed out to meet the rest of the exiles at Lands End.
Now, he was sitting next to her abuela’s kitchen table, pretending to sip on a cup of reheated coffee as she desperately tried to weave a believable tale about why she wouldn’t be around for the next few days.
“So, I’ll be staying over with Emily as she settles in to her apartment,” Mercy said, looking into her cup. No matter how good her intentions, she hated lying to her grandmother.
Her abuela’s eyes narrowed, but much to Mercy’s amazement, she didn’t say a word. Not at first. Her world-wise gaze flashed to James, then back to her. That’s when Mercy realized that she shouldn’t have bothered coming up with her half-assed lie. She wasn’t pulling anything over on anyone.
Hook: Exiles of the Realm Page 13
