Nilda cocked her head. “Ain’t never heard of that, dear. You sure that’s around these parts of G’alen?”
She was too quick to say, “I’m sure. I think.” When Nilda stared at her blankly, she added, “I was hoping you’d know where it is, since it seems like no one’s ever heard about it.” But, by the somewhat slack-jawed look on her face, the old woman hadn’t a clue. “Are you sure you’ve never heard of it? There isn’t like a book that gets passed on from leader to leader?”
“My title is chief,” Nilda told her, touching her necklace of claws. Faith had to avert her eyes quickly, because right under the necklace was a whole lot of sagging boob. Not that there was anything wrong with sagging boobs; she just didn’t want to see them. “And we, as a people, are illiterate. Jag only knows because he spent so much time with Sellyn growing up. We aren’t like the Elves—no offense, Light—who like to keep scrolls of our every bowel movement.”
Beside her, Jag laughed. Light’s scowl deepened as Faith smiled. The Elves did seem like the type of people who would keep record of something like that, just in case.
“There are no books, scrolls, or runes in the camp. We live off the land. And so far, it’s served my people well.” Nilda cocked her head, thoughtful. “The Elves knew nothing about this Cave of Memories?”
Jag leaned over her, saying, “We couldn’t exactly ask them. When we went back to Springsweet, Faith was wanted for murder, so we had to leave.”
Just as Faith was about to scold him for leaving out the most important part of the story, that she was innocent of the alleged crime, Nilda barked out a laugh. Her Malus fur was mostly grey, though there were a few spots around her face that remained black. Her long hair was dry and fuzzy in her braids. She definitely needed some conditioner for those thirsty ends. Faith ran a hand through her own hair. So did she.
“Murder, eh?” Nilda nodded, not questioning it at all. “Sounds fun. I hope that’s the next story you tell!” She was lost in her own laughter for a while, and as she tittered, it dawned on Faith why she liked Nilda so much after such a short time.
Nilda was just like Christine. Nilda was the Malus version of her grandma.
How did it take her this long to see it?
“But, in all seriousness, there are no caves in G’alen. Who told you to seek this place out?”
Faith was going to answer, but she hesitated. She hadn’t told the guys about the Fae woman who tried to strangle her, who then, not even five minutes later, apologized profusely and told her to find the truth at the Well in the Cave of Memories. Absentmindedly, she reached up to her neck, recalling the feeling of her tiny fingers curling around it. She was in the waterworld. Did Dracyrus know of her, too?
“Yeah, you know,” Finn said, his voice sounding worse for wear, “I don’t think you’ve ever told us who gave you the idea.” There was a hidden meaning behind the hue of his emerald gaze, and she suddenly recalled being in his arms, kissing him, and liking it far too much.
She looked away.
“Finn,” Light spoke suddenly, causing everyone in the circle to look at him. “I must speak with you.”
“Okay,” Finn said slowly, standing. He set his bowl and his water cup down, getting to his feet and walking with Light. They disappeared past some tents, and Faith couldn’t stop wondering just what the hell Light had to talk to Finn about.
Unless…
Her eyes widened. If Sellyn had seen her and Finn kissing, if she knew Faith was Light’s…
Faith tried getting to her feet, but Nilda stopped her by holding on to her wrist and saying, “Let them go. I’m dying to know more about you, Faith. How did you come to find out you’re the Harbinger?”
“Yeah,” Jag said, poking her on the side, a goofy grin on his otherwise handsome face. “Tell her how you passed out in front of the Elven Court.”
Nilda’s eyebrows rose, and Faith knew her window of following Finn and Light was lost. Fingers crossed it wasn’t about the whole kissing Finn thing. But what else would Light want to talk to him about? It wasn’t as if Faith planned on hiding it from them—she just hadn’t had a chance to tell them yet. Same with the whole connected-to-the-Dread-King thing.
She needed time to figure out how.
“I’m not sure how being awakened goes normally for Harbingers,” Faith started, not really wanting to tell the story. She wanted to find Finn and Light and make sure no one was getting into any fights. Probably a foolish thing to hope for. “But mine was…memorable. I don’t know how many other Harbingers could say they fell as hard as they could on the ground while the most important Elves watched.”
Jag replied, “Probably none.”
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Just like I’m the first girl, which everyone seems to have a hard time accepting. Like, I get it. Everyone’s used to big, strong men—but I can do anything, nearly anything, that a man can do, and I bet you any money I’d look better while doing it.”
Her matter-of-fact attitude made Nilda laugh. “Look at you. Pulling it in for us female-kind. How good of you, dear. Now, why’d you pass out?”
As Faith explained the story to her, and Jag interjected every now and then with some not-so-useful quips and not-terribly-funny jokes, her mind wandered to Finn and Light. What they had was still so new, and navigating the intricate web of their relationship wasn’t easy. She didn’t want to ruin it just because she showed momentary weakness.
Momentary. Because that’s what it was. A lapse in judgment. Nothing more. She wouldn’t—she couldn’t—do it again.
In the middle of her story, Faith saw a girl glaring at her. Okay, most of the Malus around them stared at her, but she was hardcore glaring. Shooting daggers with her golden eyes, the worst death glare a girl who had the markings of a tiger could summon. Her body was fit and toned beneath the orange and black fur, her tail flicking back and forth as her toe claws dug into the ground. Her arms were crossed, her nails nearly pricking her skin. The hair between her feline ears was mainly black with a few stripes of orange. Her face was mostly fur-free, as was her chest and stomach.
She was pretty in a way only a Malus could be, and Faith suddenly realized she had Jag hanging all over her and the tribe’s chief on her other side. Was she jealous of all the attention Faith got, or was it something else?
Was she, maybe, jealous she had Jag?
“Jag,” Faith whispered, “do you know that girl?”
“Who?” Jag made a big show of looking at every other Malus nearby besides the one glowering from fifteen feet away. “I know almost everyone here, Faith. I grew up in this tribe.”
She wasn’t impressed with his sly response. She gave him an elbow in the gut as she said, “No, that girl over there, with the stripes. She’s staring pretty hard at me, don’t you think?” Faith waited a beat, and when he said nothing, refused to even look in her direction, she added, “Do you think she likes me or something? Does she think I’m pretty? Why don’t you go ask her?”
Nilda laughed, leaning in to join the whispering discussion. “That’s Azelia. She—”
Coughing, Jag shook his head, which only made her want to know more.
“What is it?” Faith asked, pushing Jag away to lean closer to Nilda.
“Watch out for her while you’re here. I think she still has eyes for Jag,” Nilda went on, oblivious to the sharp look Jag threw at her.
That caused her back to straighten immediately. She turned to Jag, seeing his apologetic expression. Not even his cute face would get him out of this one. “What does Nilda mean, Jag? Why would Azelia still have eyes for you?”
It shouldn’t matter. Faith had no right to know, not until she told the guys she kissed Finn and didn’t exactly push him away. But…somehow it nagged at her, and she just had to know the truth. Had they…? She always thought Jag seemed more experienced when it came to intimate things, so it made sense he had some ex-girlfriends in the tribe.
That did not mean Faith wished to be face-to-face with them. Ever. I
t was one thing she did not need.
“I…she…I mean,” Jag rubbed the short hair atop his head, looking uncomfortable. He wasn’t the only one. “She might still…maybe, I mean, I don’t know for sure, but she could—it’s very possible that she…”
Wow. Jag could not spit it out, could he?
“Oh, you big baby.” Nilda grabbed his ear, tugging it harder than Faith ever did. Was that why Jag didn’t like her touching his ears, because it reminded him of being scolded like a child? “Just spit it out already.”
“All right, all right,” Jag whined. Once Nilda released his ear, he whispered, “She wanted to be my mate, but I never committed. Then I left when Light sent word for me. I didn’t exactly say goodbye…and when Light and I arrived, she may have kissed me.” He closed his eyes, wincing.
Oh, she kissed him. Was that all? Was it supposed to rile Faith up?
Funny.
Because, as hypocritical as it was, it totally did rile her up.
Chapter Sixteen
Finn didn’t necessarily want to go with Light, and he definitely didn’t want to talk to him either, but he found himself standing and following him through the haphazard placement of tents. They weren’t even in equal rows; it was like the Malus just threw the tents wherever they wanted. Total madness. It killed him. He wanted to reorganize the camp so it at least looked decent, even if it smelled questionable.
He was a fan of order. Their whole fumbling around while trying to stop the big bad thing was not something he enjoyed. Groomed by the Academy for years, and even before that, his parents made sure he was a rule-follower and a logical, critical thinker. A paper-pusher he wasn’t, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find any satisfaction as he crossed his Ts and handed in a perfectly-worded report after each successful hunt.
Would he ever hunt again? Would Finn ever make it back to Earth? Did Tullie sentence him to die here by making him stay with Faith?
Somehow, being around Faith made him realize there was some beauty in disorder. Not everything had to be perfect, though he still believed well-laid plans were the best plans. She was just awful at them, and since Finn had no experience dealing with old prophecies and bad guys who just didn’t seem to stay dead, he had no input. He didn’t know what to do because he’d never seen any examples of situations like this.
Their circumstance was completely unique.
Faith.
God, when he was around her, he was a-okay with disarray, with confusion and disorder. She was changing him, and he hated it because he always swore up and down that he was a man; he’d never change because of a woman. Women were a dime a dozen.
Then again, he also swore off girls who were younger than him years ago. Too immature. Too naive. Too expecting of presents and other things he hated. Older women were always his go-to, his thing. If a woman wasn’t at least five years older than him, he barely even looked at her.
Until Faith.
Faith was younger than him. Very immature; maybe the most immature person he’d ever met. Was she naive? About certain things, he thought so. But she didn’t stare at him with eyes that said she expected things from him; she gazed up at him with those bright, hypnotizing green eyes that made him want to give her everything, regardless of whether she wanted his everything or not.
Damn it. Finn wanted Faith, and now he was way past the point of denial. Hell, he was ready to talk to Light and the others about becoming a part of their…whatever it was. How fucked up was that?
To think: Faith started out as no one to him. Just the girl who blew up a robot-thing in his face and ruined his homecoming pictures. Having penciled-in eyebrows was beyond embarrassing for a high school boy.
He hated her for a while after that; she was the Director’s daughter, so she could basically do whatever the hell she wanted and get away with it. If any other girl had blown up something in a classroom in a regular high school, they would’ve gotten suspended at the very least. All Faith got was a slap on the wrist, a few detentions, and he hated her for it. When he found her on an unsanctioned hunt, he knew unless he did something, she’d get away with it, too.
So he wrote her up in his finely-worded report, and all that had happened, he was told, was her assignment for the field trip to the Second was changed at the last minute. What good would that do for a troublemaker like her? He had thought. It turned out, of course, he’d set her up with Light. And then, by order of President Tullie, he’d been forced to stay here and keep watch over her, watch her and Light. And Jag. And Cam.
Mostly her.
Yes, he certainly did a lot of that, didn’t he? A lot of watching her and falling into those green eyes like she was fire and he was a moth. Finn still wasn’t too happy about it, but the more he tried not to think of her, the more he ended up ruminating about her over and over. It was best not to fight it, he recently learned.
The feeling of her in his arms, her pressed against him, was nothing he could describe. Perfect. Like home. As if she was meant to be there, tucked under the folds of his arms and safe. Her mouth, soft and plump, was something he had spent a lot of time thinking about the last day or so.
Finn wanted to kiss that mouth again, along with other places on her body.
But before anything of the sort could happen, he had to have a very awkward discussion with Light and the others. He did not look forward to that at all.
Light led him to the outskirts of the camp, stopping when they were alone, surrounded only by flattened grass. His shoulders were tense and for a moment, he simply gazed out at the plains around them, silent and brooding.
Finn couldn’t help but wonder why Faith found him so attractive. Elves were too graceful; their movements seemed fake. Their ears were too long—their nickname was knife-ear for a reason. Yes, their skin was smooth and acne-free. Sure, they were tall and ethereal and model-like. But the women had no chests, no curves, and the guys with long, flowing hair could easily be mistaken for ladies.
What could he say? Elves weren’t his favorite. His favorite was Faith.
When Light remained quiet, hardly moving as he gazed at the plains, Finn was slow to ask, “You said you wanted to talk to me?” Really, Finn should be the one saying it, because he needed to talk to Light about Faith.
One thing at a time.
“How was she, the last few days?” Light finally responded.
Finn shrugged, not sure where this was headed. “Good, besides being roughed up by your mom. But what are you going to do?” He said the last bit to lighten the gloomy mood hanging over Light, the unease palpable in the air.
Tearing his gaze from the horizon to look at him, Light said, “That’s it?”
“Uh, well, yeah. She was busy trying to summon the sword on her back, but she never did.”
Light studied him, eyeing his arms like he was checking him out or something.
Finn suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “What—”
“That’s all you have to say?” The Elf took a step toward him, stare narrowed from his superior height.
Jaw tightening, Finn tilted his head. If this was about that damned kiss—one, how did he find out, and two, it wasn’t like he planned on keeping it a secret. This was all some misunderstanding thanks to the Malus or his crazy mother, he was sure.
“What more do you want me to say?” Finn baited him.
“You do nothing but jeer at us because of our relationship with Faith,” he said, hands curling to fists at his side. “And yet you chase her like she is available. Have you no honor? Have you no respect for yourself and us?”
“I don’t have to respect you, knife-ear.”
That angered him. Rage flashed behind the blueness of his eyes as he muttered, “You should respect Faith, at least. I found your ill-attempt at courting her amusing at first, but now—”
“Now you know she just might like me back, and you’ve had enough?” Finn said with a frown. “Here’s the thing, Light, I don’t give a shit about how you feel. You can be as
jealous as you want, but Faith—”
“Watch what you say next,” Light warned, “for you might not like the outcome.”
Finn laughed. He would’ve laughed right in his face if he wasn’t so tall. “I’m not scared of you, Light. I’ve seen a lot worse than you.” As he laughed, he shook his head. “What? You jealous that your girl wants me?”
That was all it took for Light to throw the first punch. His elegant fist connected to Finn’s face in a matter of seconds, eliciting stars from his vision from the impact. It wasn’t a terrible punch, but it wasn’t a good one, either. Finn hardly flinched, even though his nose ached a bit. Blood already seeped from his nostrils.
“Oh,” Finn spoke, “you shouldn’t have done that.”
Then his rage took over. His fists went to his stomach, knocking the breath right out of Light’s lungs. The Elf made a rookie move, and he’d pay for it. The face might hurt, but unless the facial blow was followed by others, it was superficial unless it was on the back of the head, a quick, cold blow to knock unconscious. Hit the stomach, hit the organs, create more internal pain than a skin injury could ever make.
Light stumbled back, clearly shaken and out of breath, but he wasn’t going to give it up. He lunged for Finn, tackling him to the ground. His fists connected to Finn’s face a few times before Finn was able to throw him off.
Finn was the stronger one here. Finn had the strength implant.
His arm muscles tensed before he collided with Light again. All rage and adrenaline and fury; it was hard for Finn to think. The fight turned into a blur, and for just the fastest of moments, Finn lost himself to it. It was the first time in years he let himself go, when he wasn’t in control of himself.
He wasn’t a bully. He wasn’t the kind of guy who could pound on someone and not care. He did care, even if he was an asshole about things sometimes.
Blood.
Blood was everywhere. On his knuckles, on his face. On Light. How long had it been? How many blows had he connected to Light’s lithe, slim body?
The Dread King: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 3) Page 12
