I watch his face as his jaw tightens, and my heart sinks when he says, “I can’t.” He glances over his shoulder at her. “Not here.”
“Tristan, please.” She says in a small voice. “Whatever it takes. Please.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry. He drops his hands and scoops me into his arms without any effort. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment before the room around me shifts.
I’m still shivering when Tristan’s bedroom materializes, and I grip his wrists, struggling to breathe as the weight of the situation tugs at me. He peers at me and frowns, his eyes wild and his mouth set in a thin line. He cradles me in his arms and walks over to the large four-poster bed I woke up on in my dream. When he sets me on the black silk sheets, I want to close my eyes.
Yeah, this isn’t looking good.
“Do you remember what you told me when we met?” he asks.
His question surprises me, but I try to recall that day. After thinking about it, I lift my eyes to meet his and nod.
“Tell me.”
My jaw is clenched against the pain; I don’t think I can speak. If I open my mouth, I’m afraid I’ll scream again.
“Aurora,” he says. “Tell me.”
I close my eyes and force my jaw to unclench. “I told you I wasn’t going to die here,” I say, the words slow to come out.
“And you’re not.”
My eyes open at the sound of his voice. “How?” I whisper, and my voice cracks. He sounds so sure, and yet I feel as though I’m breaking apart in front of him.
He lifts his hand and brushes the hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make it better.”
I manage to nod. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats.
His expression focuses as he lifts my shirt over my head. I try not to wince, but the pain is excruciating. I suck in a sharp breath when I see my chest. Black veins run under my skin, circling my stomach and disappearing under my bra, which Tristan makes no move to take off.
He presses his palm flat against my skin above my belly button, and I hold my breath, my lips pressed together. “I need you to breathe, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
Letting out a slow breath, I watch his hand shift upward. The pain fades eventually, and so do the shivers, but the black veins running under my skin remain.
“You can close your eyes now,” Tristan says in a gentle tone as he stands. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch him leave the room and wait, eyes open, until he returns to my side.
He kneels and looks at me, his expression soft. “Close your eyes.”
I shake my head. “What are you going to do?” It comes out as more of a whisper, but he hears me.
He leans forward and lifts my chin with two fingers. “I’m going to heal you. You don’t need to watch.”
My eyes narrow. “Tristan . . .”
He huffs out a breath. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He pulls out a syringe, and my entire body stiffens. “Relax. I’m saving your life.”
I watch his every move as he shrugs off his jacket and uncaps the needle. I look away as he slips the needle into his arm and fills it with his own blood.
“Aurora.”
I force myself to look at him and notice the needle is out of his arm. He holds it in his hand, waiting.
“This will cure you of the fae poison in your blood, but there could be unforeseen side effects.”
“Like?” I whisper.
“I’m not going to list them for you right now. You need this.” His voice is firm; he isn’t giving me a choice. Given the alternative involves me dying, I can’t find the will to be annoyed by that.
I close my eyes briefly before nodding. “All right,” I breathe.
He slips his free hand up my arm and grips it near my elbow. He turns it over so my palm is facing up, and when he lowers the needle, I look away again. As it pierces my skin, I flinch, and I swear I can feel his blood entering my system.
My entire body ignites with searing heat, but before I can react, the sensation is replaced by a calming, icy chill. Everything is too bright, so I close my eyes, and I shift as he withdraws the needle from my arm. Dizziness floods in, and I force my eyes open.
“It’s okay.” He sets the needle aside and faces me. “You can sleep now. This will take some time to work through your system.” He helps me back into my shirt and pulls the blankets around me.
“You keep saving me,” I mumble.
He chuckles, but it holds no amusement.
“It’s annoying.” I take a couple of deep breaths. “I don’t want to need saving.”
“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
Closing my eyes, I curl onto my side to get comfortable. Sleep drags me under before I can feel weird about being snuggled into Tristan’s bed.
When I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside. It takes more effort than usual for me to slide into a sitting position. My entire body aches as if I ran a marathon without any preparation, but the unbearable pain in my chest is gone. Everything else I can handle.
My eyes scan the dark room as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. After flicking on a lamp, I wander the perimeter of the room, never having had the chance outside of my dream to see what it looks like. I shouldn’t care, but I’m curious. I squint and wobble over to the bookshelves lining one wall. I run my finger along the spines and glance out the windows that cover the far wall, looking out over the city from a magnificent height. Everything is neat and simple. There’s nothing else that expresses Tristan’s personality out in the open. A pang of sadness grows in my stomach. I wonder if he’s this closed-off with Max and Skylar. I hope not. Everyone needs people to share things with, even a fae leader.
Once I’ve finished exploring, I grab the blanket off the bed. Wrapping it around myself to try to keep warm, I slip out of the room. The black silk trails behind me like a train as I pad down the hallway in search of Tristan. I stop at the only other door in the hallway, and poke my head inside to find him sitting behind a desk.
He glances up the moment I open the door and watches me walk into the room. “You should be sleeping,” he says in a hushed tone.
“I woke up.” I approach his desk. He changed out of his formal attire into a black T-shirt and slacks. I rub at my temples, wanting to close my eyes against the light beside him.
Tristan rises and walks around the desk, making me turn so I continue to face him. “Are you in pain?” The concern is so clear on his face, I’m shocked. It looks like he cares. He does, a voice at the back of my mind sings.
I shrug. “A little. Nothing compared to earlier, though. I’m fine.”
“Will you let me help you?”
My forehead creases. “Okay.” Apprehension rings loud in my voice.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. No more needles.” The unease in my chest lets up.
He lifts his hand, and I find myself stepping toward him. He cups the side of my face, and my skin tingles with a familiar warmth as the aching in my body melts away under his touch. My eyes travel over his face—his soft, focused eyes; his strong jaw and the stubble that shadows it; his lips . . . My gaze gets stuck there too long. I watch the corner of his mouth twitch, and I realize he’s no longer touching my cheek.
“How’s that?” His voice makes me shift my eyes upward.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Better. Thank you.”
He nods, and the weirdest part is, I can feel the relief shimmer through him. He’s glad I’m okay. I don’t know how I know that, but—
. . . there could be unforeseen side effects . . .
My hand flies to my mouth as my wide eyes meet Tristan’s blazing gaze. He’s realized what just happened.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, my hand falling to my side.
He licks his lips. “I suppose this evens the playing field a bit,” he muses, his brows shifting closer together.
“I can feel you.”
He nods. “A gift from your fae ancestors, I’d guess. I wasn’t sure what my blood would do, but it seems to have stirred a bit of magic in you.”
“Magic? Hold the hell up. Am I fae now?” He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and I smack his arm. “Well, I don’t know!”
“You can relax. You’re not fae.”
I can still feel the light amusement coursing through him. My eyes flicker across his face as his emotions become more subdued.
His eyes narrow a fraction. “I think that’s enough for now.”
I arch a brow. “Says the guy that’s been able to read my emotions since day one. Sucks to be on the other side, doesn’t it?”
He chuckles. “If you’d like to know what I’m feeling, Aurora, I have no problem sharing that with you.”
I shake my head. “This is too weird.”
“Does the connection bother you?”
“Not right now.” I purse my lips. “How long is this going to last?”
He shrugs. “This isn’t something I’ve experienced before. A human being able to feel what I’m feeling. It’s as new to me as it is to you, I’m afraid.”
I release a breath and shoot him a smile. “Lucky us.”
He tweaks my chin. “Look at it this way. At least you’re not stuck feeling Max’s emotions. He tends to keep them locked up tight, but depending on the day, when he makes them known, it’s no fun for anyone.”
I groan. The thought of being connected to Max makes me shudder. “Ugh, I hate when you’re right.”
His laugh is a deep sound that booms throughout the room. It’s genuine. I know that with a fresh certainty I feel in my chest. This reading emotions thing could get dangerous.
I glance over at his desk. “What are you doing up so late?”
His eyes flicker across my face in the dim light. “I spoke to Allison while you were asleep. She knows you’re okay. I don’t take what happened tonight lightly. I will find out who is behind this, and there will be consequences.” The tang of anger radiating from him makes me frown. I miss the light emotions he was giving off a few minutes ago.
“You think it was one of your fae?” I ask, masking my surprise at his reaction to the situation. I’m not fae—not his to protect.
“No, I know it wasn’t.”
“Then I’m not sure why you think—”
His anger rises, but his calm and collected expression holds. If I weren’t privy to his emotions, I wouldn’t notice the shift. “They won’t get away with harming you, Aurora. Whoever ordered this action knows you’re significant. That’s why it happened.”
I swallow. “I don’t understand why.”
“Don’t be naive.” His breath tickles my cheek, a reminder of how close he is. “You know I care about you.” The worry and attraction swirling inside him become muddled, making my head spin. I need to figure out a way to turn this off.
Swallowing, I say, “I’m not naive. I knew there was something, or you would’ve figured out another way to approach the situation after you couldn’t wipe my memories.” I shrug, still pretty drowsy. “And I—” I clamp my mouth shut before I say anything. I’m not sure what I was going to say, considering my mind is still caught on the whole I care about you thing. “I understand,” I say. If I can feel his emotions right now, he can feel mine. I don’t have to to say it back.
“Good.”
I shake my head. “Not good.” My throat tingles as if I’m going to hurl. My stomach feels heavy, and my pulse is uneven. “Someone wants me dead.” The words have to fight to make it through the chattering of my teeth. Clenching my jaw to try to make it stop, I watch Tristan’s eyes focus on my face.
“Aurora, you’re okay.”
My eyes sting as I hold back tears, gripping the blanket around me tighter. It’s all too much. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat as black spots dance across my line of sight, and my ears ring. The light fae want to kill me; Tristan is acting . . . not like the Tristan I’ve come to tolerate; Allison is putting herself in danger; my brother has cancer again, and I can’t even think about school.
“Hey.” His smooth, certain voice brings me back from the edge. His hand is on my shoulder. “Breathe.”
I stare at him, and he nods.
“Take a deep breath for me, Rory.”
Rory. I say it over in my head. That’s new.
I inhale, and all I can smell is him. Fresh, warm . . . comforting.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Now again.”
I hold his gaze, standing so close I can count his eyelashes. The pressure in my chest eases, and my throat isn’t so tight I can’t breathe. My grip on the blanket loosens as I exhale again, and my pulse returns to a normal pace.
His eyes flick back and forth across my face. “Okay?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m good,” I say, placing my hand over where his still rests on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
His lips curl into the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him when he lets his hand fall back to his side. “How are you feeling now? Are you up for a late dinner?”
“What were you thinking? I don’t eat, uh, emotions.”
“Though you seem to be enjoying the fact you can sense mine.” He licks his bottom lip. “Anything you want, name it. I don’t have to feed on emotions all the time, just enough to keep me alive. I can feed once a week, and it’s plenty. That’s to say, I eat human food, too.”
I catch my lower lip between my teeth. “You never talk about it.”
“About what?”
“Feeding. Being fae.”
His forehead creases. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to hear about it.”
My cheeks heat. “I’m saying you can talk about it. It’s not going to freak me out.” I need to stop talking.
His eyes lighten as pleasant surprise flares through the new bond we share. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh-kay.” The word comes out more like two words.
He tilts his head. “You’re quite the human.”
There goes my pulse again. “Did you just meet me?”
He chuckles. “It feels like I’ve known you much longer.”
That brings an unexpected smile to my lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re not so terrible yourself.”
“All right, smart mouth. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.”
I drape the blanket over a chair and follow him out of the office.
Tonight is not going how I thought it would.
It’s been a week and a half since Tristan saved my life and showed me a different side to the fae leader I’ve been dealing with. I still think about it every day. I go to class and think about him. I sit in my room doing homework and think about him; there aren’t many times I’m not thinking about him. I have no idea what to do, so I’ve decided to avoid it—and by it, I mean Tristan. As much as possible. He’s respected me and stayed out of my dreams, but when I’m awake, I’m never sure when I’m going to see him.
As the days pass, fewer and fewer of his emotions seep through. The ones that do are a mixture of worry, anger, and uncertainty, as if maybe he’s trying to figure something out. It’s rare he feels anything light or warm. Considering the constant pressure he’s under, it’s understandable.
One day, I can’t sense his emotions at all. Part of me is relieved, but hell, it was interesting knowing I had a leg up on at least one of his fae abilities for a handful of days. Oh, well. I’ll take being human over being able to read emotions any day. Even with the absence of his emotions, I still think about him way too much.
At the hotel on Monday, I almost kiss Skylar when she tells me Tristan is out of the office all day. I don’t because I value my life, but the heavy sense of relief that pours over me is borderline embarrassing.
“Tristan wanted to talk to you about something,” she says.
I hesitate before asking, “What . . . uh, what did he want to talk to me about?”
“Westbrook Inc. hosts a charit
y gala every year, and he wants you to spearhead the planning of the event.”
“Are you serious?” Excitement bubbles through me. An event like this would look amazing on my resume.
She gives me a look.
“Wow. I mean, this is awesome. I would love to.” I make a mental note to text Allison when I get a break. We’re going out for drinks tonight to celebrate. Our friendship has been somewhat strained lately with the whole Evan thing, but there’s no one I’d rather toast to this new opportunity with.
“Great.” She feigns enthusiasm. “You’ll be working with me. Max is also on the gala committee along with several other employees, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem, right?”
“Right,” I answer, my voice more uptight than normal. “When do we start?”
“Now, and it’s going to take more than your one day a week here. Can you make that work?”
“Of course. My Friday class finishes at noon, so I’ll come here right after, and I can do some evenings and weekends, too.”
“Good,” she says before handing me a list. “This is everything we have to do.”
I scan the paper until the words blur. “Sure. When is the event?”
“A month tomorrow,” she answers.
“That’s soon.”
“You can read a calendar. Good for you. Let’s get to work.”
After a couple of hours, Skylar announces she’s leaving for the day, and Max takes her place on the other side of the table. He’s dressed in more casual attire than I’m used to seeing around here. He’s wearing a navy blue collared shirt with a loosely knotted tie and black jeans.
“You’re still alive, I see,” he says after sitting across from me.
I force a smile. “Looks like it.”
“What’s keeping you around, blondie?” he asks, raking a hand through the mop of hair on his head.
“Uh, my education,” I answer. “I need this to graduate.”
“You don’t need the dozens of extra hours this charity event will give you.”
“Maybe I enjoy doing something for a good cause. Or maybe I like working here.”
“Really?” he inquires with an amused expression.
I shrug. “Yeah. Do you hate me or something? Are you still mad you didn’t get to kill me?”
Twisted Fate Page 12
