“Yes,” Finn remarked dryly, “because we can’t all be heroes, can we?”
God. He mocked her with every word he spoke. How she hated it. She resisted the urge to get up in his face—or at least however close to his face she could get. “Well, I can honestly tell you that you aren’t a hero, so those steroid-ridden shoulders can relax.”
His brows furrowed. “Steroid-ridden?”
Faith went on, ignoring him, “Unlike you, I’m going to fulfill my destiny or whatever I have to do without the use of any artificial implants or enhancements to my musculature.” She looked at her nails, at the chipped paint. She should’ve repainted them, or brought along a few colors.
He gave her a strange look.
“What? Don’t like me judging you? Maybe you should stop judging me and then I can return the favor.” Faith gave in; she stood and met his glare, defiant all the way. “Have something else to say to me?”
Finn’s jaw clenched. She could see the veins in his forehead pulsating, something that she always found oddly attractive. Did her veins do that when she was upset? She didn’t think so. “Say we do this—say that we win this thing through some miracle—what’s going to happen then? Tullie won’t let you stay here. You’re going to have to give them up. Your boyfriends will have to remain in the Second while you come back to Earth.”
Faith shot a quick glimpse to the others, making sure they weren’t listening in. Her voice a bare whisper, she said, “They could come back with me, if they wanted to.”
“Do you think they’d want to?” Finn asked. “Do you think they really like you, or is this thing just something they agreed to because you’re the only girl they’re going to see for a while?”
She was shocked at what he implied. Did he mean that this was an agreement out of convenience? That the guys didn’t care about her? Sure, they hadn’t known her too long, but still, thinking about it like that hurt.
Stupid feelings.
“You know what, Finn? Fuck off.” Faith glared, huffing once before stomping away. She joined Light and Jag, deciding to learn how to skin an animal instead of spending any more time arguing with Finn.
Light was right: Finn was like a fungus. He grew on you, but not in a good way.
Chapter Twenty
Well.
Maybe he shouldn’t have gone and said that last bit. It might’ve offended her a tad too much. Finn didn’t care. She could be foaming at the mouth angry and he wouldn’t give a single shit.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he watched her stalk away from him and move to Light and Jag on the other side of camp. Her hips swayed with each step, drawing his gaze to her ass, as if often did. Oh, yes. Such leadership there. A lot of direction. Muscled just enough to be a perfectly-shaped backside. What would it feel like to roam his hands along it, to—
A dark presence was beside him, cutting into his thoughts as he said cooly, “I do not understand you, Finn.”
Finn looked at Cam. The grey Elf was a few inches taller than him (okay, like six inches taller). He did not like feeling small. Then again, if anyone had the muscles here, it was him. Not Cam, not Light, and not Jag.
Steroid-ridden. Just recalling her words made him even madder. Where did she get off calling him steroid-ridden? Implants were legal since the late nineties, and they weren’t even strictly for Academy grads or I.D. employees. Cops and firefighters got them, too. Scientists got the subdermal implant that made their minds work faster. He didn’t do anything wrong by getting the implant. It gave him an edge when he was on the job. A job he truly hoped he’d get back to, after this was over.
Finn felt his lips turning into a frown. Steroid-ridden. The implant was a one-time surgical procedure, and an easy one at that. He was back to work the next day, although his muscles hadn’t filled in until a few weeks later. Before the implant, he had muscles. It wasn’t like he owed everything to it. The strength implant didn’t create muscles out of nowhere; the recipient had to have some before the surgery. It was an enhancement, not a building block, and its only negative side effect was the changing of the natural hair color.
Jesus. Her words affected him more than he’d like to admit.
He finally answered Cam, “What’s there to understand?” Truly, Finn wasn’t a deep guy. There wasn’t much to him. He liked his job, liked to end every successful day with a beer and, if he was lucky, a girl.
No, not a girl. A woman. He liked them mature, he liked them the very opposite of Faith.
Cam was quiet for a moment before muttering, “What do you know about Ulen?” As he spoke, Finn noticed the sharpness of his teeth. Like a vampire.
“Some,” Finn was sluggish in saying, speaking with a scowl. He wasn’t going to tell Cam that he’d learned all about them during his last semester at the Academy. “We learn mostly about the Elven and Fae.” The two races Humans were in contact most with. The Elven were their allies in the Second while a lot of Fae took up residence on Earth, fleeing their homeland. And the Dwarves, well, there weren’t that many of them to merit an entire class in the Academy.
“I was an Elf, once,” Cam spoke, to which Finn held back a sarcastic quip. He wasn’t blind. He could see the knife ears on the sides of his head. “But as an Ulen, I am more aware of things than others. Perhaps it’s because we are hunters—hunters in a way that you, Light and Jag are not. Our prey is—was—larger, more unpredictable than any animal.”
“And what was your prey?” Finn already knew.
“You,” Cam answered simply, slowly drawing his cloudy gaze to Faith. “Her. Them,” he referenced Jag and Light. “These teeth are not for show, but they are only a single tool we have. We are more attuned with our prey, their emotions, their fear.”
“Seems kind of stupid to let you in on this,” Finn stated, meaning the Fellowship or whatever these freaks were calling it.
“The Count and Countess entered a pact with the Elven Court. They halted all huntings of other sentient beings. I…was one of the last ones turned.” He looked back to Finn, adding, “I did not begin this talk to tell you my story. I told it to you so you would understand how I know.” He quieted, probably thinking Finn now understood it all.
He didn’t. In fact, he was getting annoyed.
“Understand what?” Finn asked.
Cam studied him silently for a few moments, eyes drawing along him like he was some specimen in a lab and he had his scientist goggles on. “You either play ignorance, or you are truly unaware. Either way, I applaud you. It’s something I could never do.” He looked across the camp to Faith as he whispered, “I wouldn’t want to.”
After that whole hunter-prey thing, Finn wasn’t sure if Cam watched Faith like a hunter or a boyfriend. Either way, he didn’t particularly like it. Not that he was jealous, because he wasn’t. There was nothing to be jealous over. “Look,” Finn spoke, “I don’t know what you think, but—”
“I don’t think,” Cam cut in, “I know. I can see it, hear it, feel it. I saw how you reacted when Faith and Light disappeared for a few minutes. You tensed, stumbled over your words a bit, and your heart—”
“That’s enough,” Finn growled.
But Cam didn’t seem to get the hint, for he carried on, “And when you spoke with her just now, the tenure of your voice changed. You stood differently, breathed differently. And that’s saying nothing of how you watch her nearly as much as the others do.”
Finn turned to him, giving him a shove on his arm. Cam barely blinked as a reaction, so he said, “I don’t care if you’re an Ulen. I don’t care if you drink blood or hunt people or whatever. I’m not afraid of you, and if you ever say anything else like that again—to me or anyone—I will beat your ass.” There was a pause before he jeered, “Do you know what that means?”
Cam ran a hand down his arm, as if to wipe away his touch. “I think I can infer. But fine. I will stop—after I tell you one last thing. Perhaps it will change your mind, or lighten your mood at the very least.”
The Victus on his neck itched. It’d been too long since he had used it. Would such a great and powerful hunter like Cam be able to escape it? Finn inwardly smirked, because he doubted it. Even the best criminals on Earth couldn’t escape it once it wrapped around them. When they did, it grew tighter. It was always best not to struggle.
Whatever this one last thing Cam wanted to tell him, Finn was ready to put it to the test. If Ulen were so awesome, as he said, surely he’d be able to free himself where no one else could?
No, he told himself. Don’t get into fights. This isn’t elementary school.
“She reacts the same way to you.”
That…wasn’t what Finn expected him to say. Not at all. Finn met Cam’s stare, and then moved it to Faith and the others, all the while thinking, No. She couldn’t possibly…could she?
Finn knew she liked him in the past, after doing a little accidental and then not-so-accidental eavesdropping on her when she was with Jag, but the mere idea that she could still possibly like him? Now, after all this time, after he went out of his way to get her in trouble? It didn’t make sense.
“No,” Finn was slow to say. “You’re wrong. You have to be.”
Cam looked bored and slightly insulted. “I am not wrong. I’m never wrong about these things.”
“But…” Finn could hardly speak, for he did not know quite what to say. The whole idea of Faith liking him was so foreign, so weird, that he was at a loss for words, and he was never at a loss for words. There were always a few words he could say, most of them swearwords.
“I’m not certain what history you guys have, but it’s clear as day that she feels something for you,” Cam added. “She tries to hide it with her sharp tongue and wit, and the others may fall for it, but I can see through it.”
Not sure whether or not he even believed Cam, Finn muttered, “Why tell me?”
Really, though. Why tell him? Wouldn’t it be better for her boy toys if Finn stayed out of the picture? As if they needed another guy around vying for Faith’s attention. Three was already two too many in his view.
“No one should hide their feelings,” Cam spoke seriously, turning away to stare at the orange fire to their left. “Life is better when everyone is honest with each other.” He gave a shrug before wandering off to stand by himself.
Finn stood in place for a while, unsure of what to do or what to think. He was, for the first time he could remember, at a loss. This was stupid, wasn’t it? It was beyond stupid, having Cam tell him things he somehow could sense with his Ulen nature. He probably couldn’t trust anything he said.
A nagging suspicion rose in his mind as Finn watched Faith laugh at something Jag said. Jag was kneeling before her, holding back the animal’s skin as Light worked to cut it off. He was like…like a furry. Like a man in a catsuit, only real. Sure, he may have a face like a Human, but his ears, his tail, the panther-like fur that lined most of his body—he was more like an animal than a man. How could Faith like something like that?
And that wasn’t even including the Elf and the Ulen. Both were too tall, skinny in ways the Elven were. Their ears were ridiculously pointed and their eyes a few sizes too big. Sure, they might have flawless skin and a natural grace Humans never seemed to have, but they weren’t exactly pretty. Finn never understood the fascination with Fae or Elven-kind. And the Ulen? Did Faith know how dangerous he was? Did she realize that his kind killed for food and sport?
Fuck. Finn shouldn’t give a shit either way. Faith could hop into bed with them all and he wouldn’t give a single shit. She didn’t like him. She couldn’t. And even if she did, it didn’t matter because he didn’t like her.
He didn’t.
He didn’t.
The rest of the night, Finn kept mostly to himself, repeating that line over and over in his head. He didn’t like her. Her body was nice—very nice—but that was it. Really, he couldn’t help himself from thinking about her body. He was a man. Any man would, right? Especially after seeing her naked and wet, Jag notwithstanding.
God, she looked great naked, too. Her breasts, her back—he really needed to stop thinking about it, otherwise bad things would happen. He closed his eyes, trying to forget the sight of her.
That’s what did it. That’s what got him: walking into her private moment. If he hadn’t done that, none of these weird feelings would be inside him. Finn was sure. Well, mostly sure. Okay, more like fifty-fifty, because even before that—when they were in the Elven garden together and he made her laugh—he hated himself for liking how her lips looked and the way her laughter sounded in his ears.
It was wrong on so many levels. First, she had blown up a robo-dog in his face, years ago, burning off his eyebrows and making a fool of him in all the pictures that ensued at the dance. Second, she was the Director’s daughter, and a rule-breaker. Finn liked the rule-breakers (they were usually kinky beyond belief in bed), but the first bit made her off-limits anyway. Third, Faith was some prophesized hero who had to battle with some dragon king. Therefore she had a lot on her plate and rekindling whatever old feelings she had for him was at the bottom of her list of things to do, probably. And, lastly but not at all in the least, she had a bunch of other guys who were all too eager to fulfill her every wish.
Yeah, Cam had to be wrong. He was wrong on all of it.
After everyone had their fill of the deer-like animal and the campfire slowly died, they readied themselves for bed. As much a bed as the ground could make. Faith slept on some furry cloak that Cam pulled out of his knapsack while Light laid beside her. When she turned onto her side, he spooned her.
God. It burned Finn’s eyes, even though he could hardly see it after the fire died.
Was he jealous? Was Cam not wrong in what he said? Did Finn want to be the one in Light’s position?
Finn sat for a while, contemplating this, annoyed at Cam for saying such things and exasperated in himself for being so damned confused about it. Until recently, Faith wasn’t even on his radar. He’d dated a lot of women and never once had he thought back to the stupid girl who burned off his eyebrows, so why was he so confused now? Why did some deep crevice inside him wonder if Cam was right?
What if he did kind of like her?
What if…what if she liked him back? Would he be okay with…for lack of a better fucking word, sharing her? Finn wasn’t the kind of guy who liked to share anything—food, blankets, affection. He probably wouldn’t be able to take it, knowing that Cam, Jag and Light were with her, too.
What the hell? In the darkness, Finn’s shoulders slumped. Why was he even thinking about that? He shouldn’t be, because he did not want to be a part of her harem of men. And that’s what it was, even if no one said it aloud. A harem.
His gaze moved upwards, to the ever dark sky. No stars in the clear sky, no moon to light up the world. Nighttime in the Second was brutal. How anyone got around was beyond him. Torches, probably. Or those little balls of light the Court Elves had following them. Or they were better at seeing in the dark.
Finn couldn’t say how long he laid there in the darkness, trying to sleep, pretending to sleep, but it was far too long. It never took him this long to fall asleep in his apartment. Then again, his mind was never this busy.
Oh, was it busy. Busy thinking about Faith in all the ways he shouldn’t. Busy thinking about all their past interactions, wondering if she was truly so awful at supposed crushes than she was at walking and not complaining simultaneously. Hint: anytime she complained, she tripped herself.
He was also busy wondering if she really did make that little robot dog, not to blow up in his face purposefully, but for another reason. And then, of course, he wondered if back then he would’ve known the truth if it would’ve changed anything. She was younger than him. Even then, Finn liked older women. The more experienced kind. Younger girls always seemed so immature, so needy and naive.
Faith was definitely immature. But was she needy and naive?
Ugh. Why the hell did it even matter w
hat she was? Finn stood, stumbling in the darkness as quietly as he could as he wandered away from the sleeping group. He was angry with himself. He was being way too angsty. It was so unlike him in the worst of ways. This was a side of himself that he did not like, not even a little.
He moved to the ashes of the campfire, a few embers still smoldering, red enough that he could at least see a little. Finn knelt beside it, heaving out a sigh as he sat there. Pouting was so unlike him. Same with the confusion and uncertainty that lingered in his mind.
And then, of course, somebody in the sleeping area stirred. Finn prayed that it wasn’t Cam. He didn’t need any more weird thoughts put in his head. Anyone but Cam.
A small figure stumbled beside him, nearly face-planting in the dim embers. Finn was awake enough to grab her—because if it wasn’t Cam, it had to be Faith, didn’t it? After stopping her from tripping forward, he pulled her back, and she fell on her ass beside him. He heard her yawning.
“What are you doing?” Faith asked, the grogginess clear in her voice. If only it was lighter out, if the fire wasn’t dead, for Finn was certain he’d get a kick out of the expression on her face.
“Can’t sleep,” he whispered.
“You’re over here thinking so damn loud,” she slurred her words a bit, ending it with another yawn, “that I can’t sleep, either.”
Finn rolled his eyes. That didn’t make any sense whatsoever. A typical thing for Faith to say. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” he said, linking his arms together over his knees. Maybe it was a good thing the embers were so low they simply hummed a deep red. She shouldn’t see him like this. It might give her the wrong idea.
No wrong ideas here.
None.
“I know you’re not happy to be here, Finn,” Faith whispered, her voice hushed so she did not wake any of the others. “But for God’s sake, do you have to act so grumpy all the time? Maybe the others would like you if you were, I don’t know, nice?”
The Fellowship: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Harbinger Book 2) Page 13
