Still.
“That’s not what I asked, Nine,” I tell him, steel in my voice.
I’m not going to let this go.
He knows it, too.
On a sigh, he admits, “I suspected it from the moment the gossips in Faerie whispered that Aislinn’s human mate was with child.”
Suspected it… What a fae way to put it. I learned that from Nine, too. The fae will never speak in absolutes unless there’s no way around it.
But I need him to be absolute.
“Nine…” I say in warning, two seconds away from losing it.
“But I knew—some part of me just knew—from the very first touch.”
Okay, then. I got my answer, didn’t I?
“When I was an infant,” I say flatly.
“Yes.”
“Is… is that why you watched over me my whole life? Because of your prophecy?”
Nine can’t lie. Once again, I bet he wishes he could.
He nods slowly. “The debt compelled me… but, yes, I would’ve done it anyway once I recognized who you were. You weren’t my ffrindau then, but if you survived Melisandre long enough, one day you might be.”
Might. Not is. Not was.
Might.
Welp. I guess that settles that.
So, yeah. I think I’m gonna need some time to deal with all of this. But since running out of the apartment again isn’t an option, I struggle to find some way to change the subject.
He can tell. Sometimes it seems like Nine knows me better than anyone does. I don’t know how I feel about that, either.
“I didn’t want to bring this up. You have bigger concerns than me, but Aislinn insisted. And he’s… he’s right. This is his home. His family. I should respect that. He thought you needed to know the truth of my past. Now you know.”
“It’s fine. Forget it. It’s not important right now.”
“Riley—”
“Forget it,” I say more firmly. “Tell me more about what you were doing in the human world before I was born. What was so important that you almost got trapped here in the sun? What exactly were you searching for?”
I can tell that he doesn’t want to discuss it, but since I’m refusing to talk about his prophecy, he has no choice if he wants to keep the conversation going. And he does. Don’t know why, but he does.
“Not what,” Nine says at last. “Who.”
“Sure,” I agree. “Who were you searching for?”
“Oberon.”
The name sounds familiar. “Who’s that?”
“The rightful king of Faerie.”
Okay. Back up.
“If he’s the rightful king, then what’s up with the Fae Queen?” You know, now that I think about it… “Hey, if everyone hates Melisandre, how did she become queen of Faerie in the first place?”
“Simple. She convinced the Seelie King that she was his ffrindau. I don’t know if that’s true or not. Only Oberon and Melisandre know if she was truly his fated soul mate, or just a consort. But, either way, he made her his queen and then...”
“Then what?”
“She overthrew him and had him banished him to Brinkburn.”
Brinkburn. Wait a sec—
I slip Gillespie’s necklace out from beneath my shirt, showing Nine the crystal. I’m careful not to get too close, just in case, as I tap it with my finger. “Isn’t that what this is?”
“It’s only a piece,” cuts in Ash. I give a start. I’d forgotten that my parents were still here. “It holds a sliver of that terrible place’s power. It’s why even a tiny stone or crystal from Brinkburn can break most spells.”
When we were planning our heist at Black Pine, Ash made it clear that a Brinkburn was the crystal hanging off of Gillespie’s necklace while Brinkburn itself was a location in England. Since going there was out of the question, I promptly forgot all about it.
Probably shouldn’t have done that.
“So what is it? The place, I mean?”
“It’s where fae get sent to die.”
Wait—
“Aren’t fae immortal? Well, except for cutting off their head because, okay, no one can survive that. But I didn’t think there was any other way to kill them.”
“There are three other ways.”
For the first time since we walked into the apartment, my mom speaks up.
Nine glances over at Ash. “You told her of our weakness?”
Ash juts his chin out defiantly. “She’s my ffrindau. I told her anything that might help her survive when Melisandre came for our child.”
I try not to wince. I still can’t get over the fact that I’m their child—and that, in their eyes, I’m supposed to be this chubby infant with rosy cheeks and a tuft of white-blonde hair sticking out of the top of my head.
No wonder my dad looked like he was ready to light Nine up. Not counting this crazy long and complicated history between them, Nine’s still a grown male who laid a claim to his daughter and none of us know how we’re supposed to deal with the overall weirdness of this strange situation.
Callie lifts her folded hand up. She extends one finger. “Iron.” She extends a second. “Either the sun or shadows, depending on if they’re an Unseelie or Seelie.” She extends a third. “Brinkburn. You bury a fae on that land and there’s no magic that’ll save them.”
“Exactly,” Nine agrees. “And that’s why it’s so important for me to go back to Faerie. Especially now. We need Oberon.”
That’s a leap.
“Why do you think he’s in Faerie?” I ask. “Maybe your instincts were right. Maybe he’s here.”
“I have to hope he isn’t.”
What?
“Why?”
“Because, when he broke free of Brinkburn, lore says that he escaped into the Iron more than two hundred years ago instead of returning to Faerie to take back his throne. He would’ve had to suffer through the industrial revolution when iron and steel ruled. It would’ve been too big a shock to one with that much Faerie blood. None of our kind could’ve survived that. Not even a king.”
Oh, great. For a second there, I actually thought I might have a little bit of hope.
Damn it.
So, in the end, I win—if I can consider Nine begrudgingly sticking around because I begged him to a victory.
Since I’d do anything—even put up with his cold behavior—to keep him from going to Faerie when I can’t risk it, I kinda do.
It’s weird, though. I thought it was bad enough when I had to share the apartment with my newfound parents. Once we throw Nine into the mix, it’s… I don’t even know how to describe it. Weird is probably the best way to put it.
Callie keeps trying to come up with ways to leave me and Nine alone together. Ash, on the other hand, might begrudgingly co-exist with Nine, but there’s still a ton of unresolved issues there. My dad still can’t get past the idea that Nine is taking advantage of me, especially now that I know the truth of his prophecy, but it’s not like that changes my feelings for him.
It… might change his feelings for me, though.
Ever since I broke the spell on him, Nine’s been keeping his distance.
At first, I barely notice. The stress of everything that’s been happening to me finally rears its ugly head. It breaks me. I mean it. The next morning, I wake up from my fitful sleep on the couch. I’m screaming. My brain throws me back to being trapped in Gillespie’s white room and it takes until I can actually focus on my surroundings—the apartment—and see that I’m safe to stop.
I’m home.
The screaming catches everyone’s attention, but I pointblank refuse to discuss what I went through to get the Brinkburn. I don’t regret it, though I can’t stop myself from thinking that Nine does. He stays, because I want him to, but I don’t think anyone’s happy about that.
Though my parents try to make up for my obvious distress by clearing out the nursery so that I have a proper place to sleep, I purposely choose to sleep on the couch. It’s where I’ve spent mo
st nights since we cleaned the place up, though that had more to do with being close to the frozen Nine than my deep-seated discomfort when it came to sleeping in the old nursery.
Now that he’s back, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Especially since Nine… he doesn’t sleep. Not really.
When I suggest it has something to do with his being a statue for long, he doesn’t deny it, though he tries to explain that, as a Dark Fae, he’s more nocturnal than not. The small amount of magic he can draw toward him is only there at night. The sunlight makes him weak so, if he starts to falter, he drifts toward a patch of shadow and nods off during the day.
At night, he watches me sleep.
The first time I catch him—the second night when I purposely asked him to sit with me because I could hardly believe he was back and, uh, I didn’t want to take up screaming alone again—he doesn’t deny it. It seems like such a natural thing for him to be doing that I wonder if this isn’t the first time he’s done it.
How many times did he watch over me while I was a child? I thought I was awake for every one of his visits before I was put into the asylum. Was I wrong?
I don’t ask.
It makes me feel a little better to think that maybe he still cares. Nine’s always been better with actions than words, and as the days crawl pass, I see him watching me even when we’re all awake.
A few days into our new reality, Ash tells me to check out the nursery. My dad is trying so hard not to take his obvious frustrations out on Nine, but I have to admit that he’s gotten so much better at not making decrees or issuing commands—he even calls me Riley now—so, when he opens the door, I peek.
It’s… not a nursery anymore.
I don’t know where they got any of this stuff from. And it’s not just Callie and Ash who’d been disappearing into that room the last few days. On my return trips from the outside—part looking for that homeless man who might have some answers, part finding an escape from my family upstairs—I see him slipping out of that room more than a couple of times.
I don’t ask about that, either.
Between the three of them, they turned it into a sanctuary for me. A place I can be safe and on my own. There’s a full-sized bed, brand new linens, and a dresser. Clothes—in a style just like I like—fill the drawers. A new pair of gloves, just waiting for me to break them in—are laid out on the top.
And when I try to tell Ash how much I appreciate the thought, he tells me almost begrudgingly that it’s Nine who I owe my gratitude to. It was his idea.
A gift just for me.
I’m stubborn. Hurt. I don’t say a word to Nine about it even as I do move into the room that night.
The bed is perfect. It feels like sleeping on a cloud.
I just wish I wasn’t sleeping in it alone.
13
I let myself into the apartment, carrying a few bags of groceries from the corner market.
We didn’t really need much—with three of us feeling comfortable enough to walk around the neighborhood now, the fridge is always stocked. But, since I needed the excuse to get some fresh air earlier, I offered to take a run down to the store knowing that Nine couldn’t come with me.
I’m beginning to think that I shouldn’t have thrown such a stink about him going back to Faerie. He’s obviously miserable here. The iron doesn’t affect him as much, and his tolerance to the sun grows with every day. I watch him stand in front of the window for hours, as if he’s forcing himself to get used to it. He wants to get stronger since he can’t go back to Faerie.
For me. He’s doing it for me.
The old familiar guilt settles in my gut as I find him standing there again. I force a smile to my face a second before he turns to welcome me back home.
“Where are my parents?” I ask as I set the groceries down.
“They… left.”
Why am I not surprised?
I don’t blame them. We’ve been forced into an incredibly close proximity these last few weeks. Of course, considering the talk I had with my mom the other day, all of their little day trip seems just a little too coincidental to me.
It isn’t lost on either of them that Nine is still hanging out in the living room while I stay in my room. Despite their giving us as much privacy as Callie can by dragging my dad out with her, it’s pointless.
Nine hasn’t touched me yet. Not even an accidental brush in the hallway. Nothing at all.
I’m still grateful for her looking out for me like this. I’m also super glad that she feels confident enough to go out and leave me behind at all.
We’ve been hiding out long enough that the inherent need to actually hide isn’t as bad as it was. Now that Callie is doing better with heading out, Ash has no problem joining her while it’s bright. The two of them are rarely without the other.
Because they’re mates and, according to Callie, that’s how it’s supposed to be with mates.
Then there’s Nine.
I’m supposed to be his mate. I let him claim me in Faerie when he pulled me close and stole my kiss. I was totally down with being Nine’s.
But what does that mean?
Even better, what does my Shadow Man think it means?
I still don’t know.
I sigh. Weeks. It’s been weeks. And maybe I’m too conditioned not to ask Nine anything from a lifetime of my Shadow Man always being the one to provide any answers for me, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to ask him a single thing anymore.
Until now.
I’m so tired. I’m so unsure.
That familiar guarded expression he wears just about pushes me past my breaking point.
My shoulders slump. I throw my hands up in the air and sigh. “Oh, Nine. I— what the hell are we doing here?”
“Riley?”
“And I don’t mean here,” I say, just in case he gets the wrong impression. “This is the only place I have until the queen hunts me down.”
His eyes flash. It’s the most emotion I’ve seen from him in ages. “I won’t let that happen.”
He might not be able to stop it, either.
I can feel that my time is running out. Every morning, I wake up and I’m surprised to find that I’m still here. That I’m still with my parents, with Nine. I keep getting this feeling like she’s getting closer and closer to finding out where I am, that as soon as she does, Melisandre will drag me kicking and screaming back to Faerie where we’ll settle this once and for all.
I know I’ll regret it forever if I leave things with Nine as they are. I’ve always been on my guard. Always careful to keep myself apart from everyone else because, well, in the end, they always leave.
Only, this time, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to be the one who leaves everything behind.
Before I go, I have to settle this. I have to let him know that my feelings haven’t changed.
“You might not have a choice. But, just in case, I want you to know that I love you. And you don’t have to say anything—”
“I love you, Riley. More than anything else in either realm. You must know that. I’ve always loved you, even if I love you… differently than before.”
I latch onto that. “Differently? Differently how?”
He clenches his jaw, almost like he’s said too much.
Oh, no. I’m not going to let him off that easy.
“Are you talking about how you claimed me?”
A muscle in his cheek jumps.
Gotcha.
Forgetting all about the groceries, I dare to cross the room, moving closer to Nine than I’ve gone since I used the Brinkburn on him.
“Are you talking about how you touched me? About how good it felt when I gave you permission and let you in?”
I want to let him all the way in.
“Riley. What are you…”
“Do it again.”
He wants to. Holy shit. I can see it in his eyes… he definitely wants to. But then he shakes his head.
Damn i
t.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Riley.”
When he touches me without my permission, it doesn’t hurt me. It hurts him. The last couple of times I let him touch me, I only felt pleasure.
I want him to feel that.
I move closer.
He steps back.
Come on, Nine.
I know exactly what this is, too. My poor Nine. It’s like when he had to use touch magic to reverse the effects of eating the faerie fruit while erasing Rys’s brand from my skin. It felt so good, I begged him to do it again, and he told me that it was simply the touch talking. That, in my right mind, I would never want to feel his skin on mine.
He’s doubting himself. He doesn’t think that I really want him.
And maybe that’s my fault, too. I certainly haven’t been giving him any “go” signs since he’s been back.
That changes now.
“I’ve got a question.” I inch closer to him. I smile, part seductive, part reassuring—and, won’t you know, this time, Nine stays put. “That alright?”
He gulps, his voice gone unusually hoarse as he rasps out, “Ask it.”
“Is there any way for you to touch me without you stealing part of my soul or you burning yourself? A way we can both feel good?”
He shudders out a breath. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Yes. I do.
Because, thanks to Callie—my matchmaking mother—I kind of already know the answer.
“Answer me. Please.”
“Once there’s nothing left to take. Once I own every part of you. Once I claim you for my own, and you take me in return. Once I brand you as mine and you just say yes.”
That’s… what I thought.
It’s like that fateful day in Faerie. When he stood up and told Melisandre’s entire throne room full of fae that I was meant to be his. He took my hand, then took my kiss, and it was different than any other fae-touch I’d ever experienced.
He hasn’t touched me since. Is it because he’s waiting for that last touch?
Only one way to find out.
He might be good with waiting. Not me.
I’ve waited long enough.
I snag Nine by the hand. It feels… natural, almost. Like we fit.
Touch (Touched by the Fae Book 3) Page 12
