Forged in Light (The Forged Chronicles Book 4)

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  Most of the shops were dark, which made sense at this late hour. They were mostly clothing stores and a small cupcake bakery, but I heard some faint music further down the street. I followed it, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure I wasn’t being followed. Maybe I’d be able to laugh at this situation later. I wished the guy hadn’t known my name. Then I could have chalked it up to a random occurrence—a weird guy showing up at the wrong place. But he had known my name. He’d said it twice, and Ainsley wasn’t all that common of a name. Someone had put him up to it; I wanted to know who and why.

  Enough was enough. My life wasn’t bad compared to plenty of people’s, but it wasn’t turning out the way I wanted. If I ended up on some stupid show or a viral video, I was going to lose it. I hoped I was wrong, and it was just some stupid prank Grace cooked up. She had a lot of actor friends.

  The frosted glass door was heavier than I expected, and I had to put my full weight into it, then it suddenly became easy and flung open. I ended up stumbling into a hole-in-the-wall bar.

  Dated rock music filled the crowded room full of worn out tables, a pool table, and a bar I could barely see through the thick crowd of people surrounding it. I’d never been inside this place, and from the looks of it, I never would again. Still, the bar was perfect right now. Whoever was behind sending Elf boy wouldn’t find me here. It was so not my scene it wasn’t even funny. Of course I just had to blend in here for a little while.

  I brushed past a man in a leather jacket, and he stared at me. Maybe it was because I was on the younger side of most of the patrons, or it might have been my clothes. I looked down at my Yogurt Love t-shirt and jeans. Maybe I should have taken the time to change into the black sweater I had packed for later.

  On second thought, I stuffed the sweater back into my bag. It was way too stuffy inside to add a layer. I ignored the man who’d stared and continued to make my way over to the bar.

  I immediately noticed an attractive guy with dirty blond hair sitting at the bar. I felt I knew him in an achingly familiar way. My mind was telling me he was from my dream, but if he was in my dream that meant we had likely met before, and this was the kind of guy I would remember.

  My view of the guy was suddenly blocked by a redhead who leaned over him so far she was nearly in his lap.

  “Are you even listening to me?” She tapped her fingers on the bar top between them.

  “No.” The guy gazed at the peeling wall behind the bar rather than at her. Either he was really far gone drunk, or he was a jerk. Maybe both. I found most guys that looked like him had awful personalities.

  “I asked you if you wanted to take me home. I only live a few blocks from here.” She put her hand on his upper thigh.

  Not that I was looking at his upper thigh. I pulled my eyes away—after I flinched. Something felt wrong about the girl touching him. Either I was becoming a prude, or I was losing it.

  He looked at her. “Probably not.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell. Wow. That was harsh. But maybe not. I looked at her again. Her eyes were kind of hazy. Maybe she was the one who was drunk, and he was being a good guy?

  “I am doing you a favor.” He took a sip of his beer and set it on the bar.

  “Oh.” The girl stared at him blankly, still looking shocked.

  And then I coughed. It wasn’t a small cough, it was a loud one, and the guy turned to me.

  My breath hitched as the heat from his gaze swept over me.

  “Yogurt Love? Do you have that much of an affinity for the stuff?” His lips twisted into a smirk.

  I startled. “Excuse me?”

  “Your shirt.” He pointed to my chest. “It has been a long time since I ate any, but there was nothing about it that would make me wear a shirt declaring my love for it.”

  The girl cleared her throat. “I’m out of here.” She stumbled off her stool and further into the bar.

  “Aren’t you going to go after her?” I pointed as the red headed girl disappeared into the crowd.

  “Why?” His brow furrowed.

  “Because she’s drunk, and just because you turned her down doesn’t mean another guy won’t.”

  He leaned over the bar and at the bartender. “Look after that red head will you?” He set down a pile of coins which the bartender swooped up before I could look at them.

  “What are these?” The bartender sorted through the coins.

  “Worth plenty to pay my bill and make it worth babysitting.”

  The bartender nodded, and the guy turned back to me. “Where were we? Oh, yes. Yogurt. Is your shirt a joke?”

  “It’s my work shirt. I work at Yogurt Love. I’m not wearing it for fun. I left quickly and didn’t have time to change.”

  “Why did you leave quickly?” He turned completely on his stool so his legs were facing me.

  “What does it matter?” I was perhaps more defensive than I needed to be, but the evening wasn’t exactly going my way.

  “You shared that detail, so I have to assume it has importance.” He flipped a beer top, sending it flying down the bar.

  “Why do you care?” Normally I’d have expected some sort of pick up line, but after watching him turn down the other girl, I knew he wasn’t just hoping to get lucky.

  “Because you are gorgeous.” He stared into my eyes.

  And there I went making an assumption. Maybe the guy liked his partners sober. As much as I respected that, it didn’t mean I was going to go there. “Uh…”

  “The response you are looking for is ‘thanks’, but maybe you hear it so often you have become jaded.” He picked up his beer and took a long sip.

  I laughed dryly. “Yeah, no.” Most recently I’d been hearing a lot of ‘whoever ends up with you will be lucky’.

  “So, are you going to tell me?” He leaned on one elbow.

  “Tell you what?” I was beyond distracted. And hot. Getting out of the crowded bar and away from this guy who was confusing every single one of my senses seemed like my best option.

  “Why you left work in a hurry.” By his wry smile, I figured he was amused.

  I wasn’t going to be any one else’s amusement. “It’s not that interesting of a story.” I backed away from the stools and walked away.

  “I bet it is interesting.” He followed me.

  “Not as interesting as you think.” I stopped trying to fight my way through the crowd.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” He nodded back over at the bar.

  “You have more of those shiny coins of yours?”

  “I have plenty, but that is beside the point.”

  “Why are you wasting your time talking to me?” Sometimes calling someone out on their behavior gets them to leave you alone.

  “This is not wasting my time. I need to know the answer to my question.”

  “And which question was that again?” I was still sweating, and it wasn’t from fear or the crowd now. This guy had a physical effect on me.

  “Why did you leave work in a rush?”

  “That question?” I could almost feel my eyes widen.

  “It is a legitimate question.”

  “You don’t want to know.” I shook my head. “But I give you points for saying no to the drunk girl. Many guys would have taken her up on the offer.”

  “Taking advantage of a drunk woman is lowly.”

  “Yeah, well. There are many lowly men then.” Lowly? I hadn’t heard that word in a while.

  “Since I have proven to be better than the other men you know, does that mean you will let me buy you a drink?”

  “No thank you.”

  “How about coffee? I suppose we could find a place open for coffee still.”

  I laughed dryly. “You think I’m going to leave with you to get coffee?”

  “I am merely making a suggestion.”

  “Have a good night.” Instead of trying to continue pushing through the crowd, I headed in the opposite direction back toward the front.

  “Hey,
wait up,” he called after me.

  I ignored him and continued past the bar and toward the door. Someone was coming in, and I slipped out without waiting to see if the door closed behind me.

  3

  James

  I regretted the last beer. I had wanted a break from whisky, but the crappy lager was one drink too many to keep me at my normal level. My head was clear enough in theory, but I was slow and tired. I wanted to be on my best game. For the first time in years something other than my job had my attention.

  I hurried after the brunette beauty. She was special. I knew it the moment I saw her, yet why I had no clue. She worked at a yogurt store. That alone was odd, but her haunting blue eyes pulled at me in a way eyes never did. They reminded me of something. Someone maybe, but I couldn’t place it. She was the first girl to turn my head in longer than I could remember.

  “Was it something I said?” Rejection was something I had experienced before, but not in a bar like this. Minutes before I had been the one peeling a girl off my arm.

  She ignored me and hurried down the dark street. Her arms were wrapped around her chest. She was cold, and something inside me wasn’t okay with that. I wished I had a jacket to offer her.

  She slowed down and looked back over her shoulder. “Please don’t kill me. I have no money, so…”

  “I mean you no harm…” I quickly reassured her.

  “Ugh.” She stopped. “Ok, are you in on this too?”

  “In on what?” Was I more inebriated than I thought? Was I missing something obvious?

  “You mean me no harm? The other guy said that too.” She wrung her hands.

  “What other guy?” I repeated. I felt defensive in a way I had no real right to, but I did anyway. “Is someone bothering you?”

  “Yes. Two guys are. And you are one of them.”

  “What did I do?” I put a hand to my chest. “I asked you a question. Does that qualify as being a bother?”

  She frowned. “No, but following me does.”

  “You seem upset, and it is dark out. If I remember correctly this is not the best place to be at night.” To be fair, I would have continued trying to talk with her even if it were the middle of the day, but the dark evening made it even more urgent.

  “If you remember correctly?” She stuffed her hands in her pockets. She was not actually afraid of me if she was putting her hands in a defenseless spot. That was a start.

  “I used to live here in Charleston, but a few years have passed since then.” A few years that felt like ages. So much had changed.

  “At least they didn’t give you Elven ears.” She stepped closer. “That would have pushed it over the top. I guess you are the Aragorn of the bunch then? The human one. I guess the other guy had the right hair for Legolas.”

  “What are you talking about?” The names she was spouting vaguely reminded me of a movie maybe, but what did she mean by human of the bunch?

  “Joke’s over. Are there cameras out here too?” she sighed. “Forget it. I’m going to get the rest of my stuff and lock up.”

  She turned and headed down an alley.

  "Are you in the habit of walking down dark alleys alone at night?" I called after. She was a strange girl, but I was strange too. There was absolutely nothing wrong with being different.

  "No. Only when actors torture me."

  I caught up with her. "Wait, you think I am an actor?" That was a new one.

  "Yes. I'm not an idiot." She frowned again. Even her frown was cute.

  "I never doubted your intelligence, but an actor I am not."

  She hurried ahead. "Whatever."

  I followed out of interest, worry, and a need to set the record straight. “I am not, nor have I ever been, an actor. I have been accused of many things before, but that is a new one.”

  She did not turn around, but she slowed down. I caught up with her.

  “Please, leave,” she said so lightly I nearly missed it.

  “I am not in the habit of leaving beautiful women alone in dark alleys.”

  “What about non-beautiful women?”

  “All women are beautiful in their own way.”

  She snorted. “Oh wow. You really said that.”

  “Not all men are liars.” Although evidently she had been hurt by a man before. That much was obvious, and I found I was angry at the mystery man.

  “I never said they were.” She sighed again.

  “You did in not so many words.”

  “No I didn’t.” She gritted her teeth.

  “Do you want to stand and argue all night, or was there somewhere you were going?” I tried to lighten the situation and put her at ease. Leaving her alone in the dark was out of the question, and somehow I knew pulling her into my arms would not go over well even if the thought of touching her had my heart racing and my body aching.

  She huffed.

  I bit back my smile. There was something about her. It was something that called to me and was impossible to ignore. Truthfully I would have followed any girl to make sure she arrived at her destination safely, but this went far beyond safety. It had everything to do with a need to be close, to know more about her. We had only just met, but something about her was so familiar I couldn’t dismiss the feeling.

  She turned down another street and went right up to the glass door of a storefront. A street light lit up the front window, and I saw the wording matched her shirt.

  “There really is a place called ‘Yogurt Love,’ huh,” I thought out loud.

  “You thought I was lying?” She turned and the light fell across her face, creating an ethereal glow. Beautiful was not strong enough of a word to describe her.

  “No. But the concept seems funny. And didn’t there used to be an ice cream place here?” Now that was good stuff.

  “Frozen yogurt is a healthier alternative. And it’s popular.” She started to push open the door to the darkened store, but I blocked her entrance with my arm.

  “I will go first.”

  “No you won’t.” She scowled.

  “Yes I will.” I understood she wanted to show her bravery, but that did not mean I would let her walk into a dangerous situation.

  I slowly pushed open the door.

  In a blur a figure lunged at me, knocking me down to the concrete floor. My head hurt from the contact, but I was relieved I had insisted on stepping in first.

  I pushed the figure off and jumped to my feet, ready for what he brought next.

  Light flooded the room. “Ok, that’s enough. If you guys break anything, you pay for it.”

  I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the brighter room.

  “James!” My opponent exclaimed.

  “Uh, who the hell are you?” I tried to slow my breathing. Once again I regretted the beer. That should not have even been a contest.

  “I was not expecting you. I did not think you met until later,” he mumbled.

  “You know my name?” I studied the man and realized instantly he was who Ainsley referred to. His ears were a dead giveaway.

  “Yes.” The Elf shrugged. “Maybe I should have pretended not to, but I would prefer to stop wasting time. I will pay for each second we waste.”

  “Pretended not to know it?” I narrowed my eyes. “Who are you, and why are you here?” This night was getting stranger by the second. What were the chances I met a beauty in a bar, followed her, and ran into an Elf who knew me? None of this was random. That was for sure.

  “Yes. Please tell us that.” The girl put a hand on her hip. She was standing by the light switch looking from the Elf, back to me, and back to the Elf again. She seemed dazed, but she was still there, which was a surprise. She had been so skittish earlier I expected her to run at her earliest chance.

  “I am glad you came back, Ainsley.” He smiled at her as if finally noticing her as well.

  Ainsley. The name fit. Perfectly.

  “I came back for one reason. I need to keep this job. It’s about time I lock up, which means you h
ave to get out.” She pointed to the door. “I appreciate that you didn’t trash this place while I was gone, but It’s time to go. Cameras or not, I’m done with the game.”

  “Cameras?” I started up at the ceiling but saw nothing. “Am I missing something?”

  “I think I’m the one missing something.” She wrapped her arms over her chest again.

  “I cannot leave. We need to talk. I am here to help you.” The Elf smoothed down his tunic. “Maybe you are ready to listen now?”

  “Help her?” I asked. “Help her how?”

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” Ainsley looked between us. “I thought most actors had stunt-doubles do that kind of stuff.”

  “For the last time, I am not an actor.” I did not want to snap at her, but I was tired of being called something I was not.

  “Whatever. I’m too tired for this.” She walked back around the counter.

  I wanted to follow after, but I needed to figure out who the Elf was. “Who are you?”

  “Elron. Son of Adaline and Malton.”

  “I do not care who your parents are.”

  “You should,” Elron chided. “But that is of no matter. Right now I need your assistance.”

  “My assistance with what?” I eyed the counter. Where had Ainsley gone? I hoped there was no other way out of the store.

  “Getting Ainsley to come with me.”

  “Yeah, not happening.” This Elf was crazy.

  “Are you not a little bit curious how I know who you are?”

  “Everyone knows who I am.” And generally it was not in a good way.

  “Because you are a Guardian?” Elron glanced at the counter as well, and I assumed he was worried the same as I was.

  That was a first. “Usually because of my father, but I prefer to be known for my Guardian status.”

  “I know what it is like to have a father you wish to distance yourself from.”

  “I doubt your father is like mine.”

  “He was not corrupted by evil in the same way, but given the chance he might have been. Not all Elves are pure of heart.”

  “And you admit that.” I was surprised yet refreshed by his honesty. “Interesting.”