Twisted Fate

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Twisted Fate Page 13

by Jessi Elliott


  Max laughs. “I don’t get to have a lot of fun around here, so I find entertainment in screwing with you. You’re such an easy target.”

  I stare at him, scowling. “You’re such a child. I’ve been working my ass off around here for a while now, and you’ve treated me like shit since the beginning.” I stand and walk out of the room, leaving my belongings behind. I need some air—I need to take a break so I don’t attack Max and get my ass handed to me. Stepping off the elevator into the lobby, I offer Marisa a quick wave on my way to the door.

  “Aurora, come here,” she calls after me, so I turn and walk to the reception desk.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “You look pissed. I didn’t think Mr. Westbrook was in the office today.”

  I laugh. As agitated as I am, Marisa is good at making me feel better. “Yeah, he’s not.” Which is making avoiding him a bit easier. “It’s Max.”

  “Ugh, he’s a major dick. All the time.”

  “Tell me about it.” I sigh.

  “Remember when you told me you play piano?”

  I nod.

  She glances around as if to make sure no one is overhearing our exchange. “I saw some movers bring a piano into the ballroom.” She points to a hallway off of the lobby. “The double doors at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”

  “You can’t be serious,” I say, my fingers already itching to play.

  She grins. “It’ll make you feel better.” She drops a key on the counter. “No one else is in there. Go take a break and relax.”

  “Thank you.” I grab the key and head for the ballroom before I can talk myself out of it. I hurry down the hallway as if I’m about to be caught doing something I shouldn’t.

  After unlocking the door and closing it behind me, I take in the room. It’s elegant: gold walls, high ceilings, over-the-top chandeliers. The marble floor is so smooth it makes me want to lie on it and stare at the twinkling lights. My eyes land on the piano, and I suck in a breath as I walk over to it. It’s the most amazing piano I’ve ever seen. I can see my reflection in the glossy black finish. I lift the lid that covers the keys; they look as if they’ve never been touched. I run my fingers along them without pressing any and then sit on the bench. With a breath, forcing the tension out of my system, I put my fingers to the keys again. I can lose myself in the music. That’s what convinced me to come in here. A part of me is worried I’ll get caught, but the other part doesn’t care.

  I wrote a song the last time I went home for a weekend. I don’t know where it came from, but the lyrics flew through me. As my fingers graze the keys, I sing, keeping in tune with the soft, deep key of the song that matches the lyrics.

  He’s an unstable bomb

  He makes me feel wrong

  He makes me feel right

  But that’s not for tonight

  By the middle of the song, I’m belting it out with thick emotion laced in every word.

  I hate that I wrote this damn song, but even more, I hate that it’s about him.

  He shows his soft side

  And will start to confide

  But then makes a huge mess

  Of the life I have left

  The song comes to a close. Eyes shut and my hands in my lap, I sit there, taking several deep breaths before I open them again.

  Clapping sounds behind me, shooting a wicked shiver up my spine, and I freeze.

  “Boundaries mean nothing to you, do they?” Tristan’s amused voice carries through the empty room and latches onto my heart, sending it racing.

  I scowl and turn to look at him. “You’re one to talk.”

  He approaches at the same time I stand from the bench. Leaning against the side of the piano, I try to pull off a casual stance that fails epically. Damn. I need to get better at this shit.

  “I own this hotel, Aurora, therefore nowhere is out of bounds for me.”

  I roll my eyes. “Because that’s what I meant,” I respond dryly.

  “I didn’t know you could play,” he comments, glancing at the piano.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  “Duly noted. That song you were playing, did you write it?”

  My cheeks flush, and I want to look away. By the smug grin tugging at his lips, I can tell he already knows. “Yeah.”

  “I like it.”

  I rock back on my heels, wishing I could use that fae shifting trick to get the hell out of this room, away from his gaze. “Uh, thanks.”

  “Max said you took off. What happened?”

  I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter now. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Do I need to be concerned?”

  “If there were reason to be concerned, you would know. What are you doing here? Skylar said you’d be gone all day.”

  “All right,” he concedes. “I had business to attend to this morning, but my afternoon meetings got canceled, so I came back. Care to join me for lunch?”

  I sigh, shaking my head because hell yes I want to, but I shouldn’t. “Tristan.”

  “Aurora,” he levels.

  “I’m not sure what you think you’re doing when it comes to me, but—”

  He closes the distance between us in a second, stopping just before he presses me against the piano. “Neither do I,” he says on an exhale.

  When I don’t balk, he takes another step and creates a cage with his arms. “But when we’re close, your heartbeat kicks up, your cheeks flush, and best of all, you get this look in your eyes, and I never know if you’re going to smack me or let me closer.”

  “Depends on the day,” I say without thinking.

  He chuckles. “How’s today looking?”

  My eyes narrow. “Not great.” I’ve gotten good at saying the exact opposite of what the voice in my head is screaming. She wants me to wrap myself around him and never let go, which is why I shove that voice away and force out the safe answer.

  “Is that so?” he inquires.

  I tilt my head back so I can look him in the eyes. “You want to get closer to me?”

  His eyes darken. “Hmm.”

  “Okay, then tell me what’s going on. Was that meeting this morning about the light fae?”

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, ignoring what I asked.

  I shoot him a look. “I have not. Quit evading my questions.”

  “Quit evading me,” he counters.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I look away. “I’ve been busy.”

  “You’re spiraling, Rory,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you to worry about the light fae. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  My mouth goes dry. If I could speak, I have no idea what I’d say. I’d rather know I can protect myself, but his reassurance that my safety means something makes it hard to keep convincing myself he’s the bad guy. Maybe he’s not the bad guy anymore . . .

  “During the meeting this morning, I was informed that a female by the name of Danielle was the light fae who poisoned you.”

  I have to swallow more than once before I say, “What? No. She’s in my program. We study together. Hell, she bought me—” Oh my god. The coffee. “She poisoned my coffee,” I whisper.

  He nods. “She confessed. I’m sorry.” I can’t feel his emotions anymore, but the furrow of his brows and downturn of his lips tells me enough. He’s upset that I’m upset.

  “But why?” I ask in a small voice.

  “I had Max spend some time with her to see whether he could find out. All he gathered is that she felt bitter toward you because of something her leader said. Jules is always screwing with people, so I’m not surprised.”

  “Max?” The idea of him doing something to help me—it’s almost unfathomable. “What would Jules have to say about me?”

  “We don’t know. Danielle stopped talking after she told Max about Jules, so she’s been dealt with.” I knew what that meant. I wouldn’t see Danielle in class anymore.

  Tears gather in my eyes. “Max kille
d her.” It isn’t a question.

  Tristan nods, his back straight, as if my being upset is making him uncomfortable. “Would you have liked me to spare her?”

  My whole body tenses. “I couldn’t make that call.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to. I told you—I will protect my people.”

  My eyes widen, and heat rises in my cheeks. “If your blood activated some weird magic inside of me, why didn’t the fae poison she tried to kill me with do anything like that?” I’m almost pissed at myself for not thinking about it sooner, but in my defense, I’ve been doing my best to try to forget that night.

  He presses his lips together. “You remember the black veins under your skin? From what I found out, those appeared as your body tried to fight the poison off, but because you’re human, it didn’t work.”

  I sigh. “This is so messed up. Do you think the light fae are going to come after me again?”

  “I’m handling this.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not going to let you get hurt.” His fiery gaze burns into me, making my pulse race as his words terrify me and bring me comfort at the same time. Nothing makes sense right now.

  “I told Skylar I would work on the charity gala with her and Max,” I say, looking away. “I should get back to work.” I drop my gaze to his arm, and he lets it fall to his side. Then I hurry out of the room before he can say anything else.

  I’ve been staying on campus since spending the night at Tristan’s when I was poisoned, and Allison has been looking out for me. She hasn’t mentioned seeing Evan since Danielle tried to kill me, and I haven’t asked. If she thinks seeing him in secret is safe, I have to trust her. I need my best friend.

  I use the rest of the day to work on readings and get started on a couple of assignments. I’m stuffing my face with cold pizza when someone knocks on the door. I holler at them to come in, but when the door doesn’t open, I get up and open it myself. On the other side stands a tall guy with sharp green eyes and cropped dark brown hair. He’s dressed casually in T-shirt with a black leather jacket and jeans.

  “Uh, can I help you?” I ask, holding onto the door.

  The guy wrinkles his nose as his eyes flicker across my face. “Is Allison around?”

  I offer a smile. “You must be Evan,” I say in lieu of an answer.

  He nods, pulling his hand out of his pocket and sticking it out to me. “You’re the roommate, right?”

  I glance at it, then shake it gingerly. “Aurora,” I say. “Allison isn’t here.”

  “That’s too bad.” He lets his hand fall back to his side. “Maybe I could come in and wait for her?”

  I grip the door a little tighter. “I don’t think so. I’ll let her know you stopped by. I’m sure she’ll call you.” Unease slithers its way up my spine, and considering the last interaction I had with a light fae, it’s not unwarranted. My mind goes to the bottom drawer of my desk where the iron stakes I’d picked up weeks ago are hidden. Maybe I should have one on me all the time now.

  He glances at where my knuckles have turned white. “Relax, I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

  “Forgive me for not trusting you. The last light fae I knew tried to kill me.”

  He frowns. “I wasn’t aware. I’m sorry.”

  I blink at him. “Allison’s in class,” I say, ignoring his apology. I start to close the door, but he raises his hand.

  “Can I come in?” His eyes flick between mine. “Please?”

  My pulse kicks up. “No,” I say in a firm, unwavering voice.

  “Look, I need to talk to you. There are things you need to know, and I can’t talk about them in the hallway.”

  I glare at him for a moment and then exhale harshly. “Fine.” I step back, opening the door so he can come in. Once he’s inside, I leave the door ajar.

  I turn to face him. “Speak.”

  “I care about Allison. A lot. Not all of us want to be involved in the war, Aurora.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “She is going to get in a lot more trouble if whatever the two of you are doing continues. Does that not matter to you?”

  His eyes narrow. “Of course it matters.” He shakes his head. “What am I supposed to do? Walk away from her?”

  “That would help.”

  “No. It would hurt her.”

  “Temporarily.” I sigh heavily. “The last thing I want is for my best friend to get hurt, but I’d rather she be heartbroken for a little while than have to spend god knows how long in prison for sleeping with the enemy.”

  “I’m not the enemy!” He glances to the door and frowns briefly. “I’m sorry, but I’m no threat to you, her, or Tristan.”

  “Okay, fine. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

  “You can get Tristan to meet with me,” he offers.

  I scowl. “Do you think I’m his secretary or something?”

  “No, but I know you have influence over him.”

  I press my lips together to keep from bursting into laughter. “Um, we are talking about the same fae leader here, right?”

  He arches a brow. “He’ll listen to you.”

  What has Allison told him about me? About Tristan?

  I lean against the side of my desk. “Say I could get him to agree to meet with you. Why should he want to? So you can plead your case to stay with Allison?”

  “Would that be enough for you to agree to try?” he asks.

  “If it’ll make my best friend happy, I’ll do it. But that’s me. I doubt it’ll be enough for Tristan to listen to you.”

  “But there’s a chance, so I have to try.”

  “Look, maybe the two of you should just take some time away from each other. At least until things get—”

  “Better?” he cuts in with a sharp laugh. “We’re close to war, Aurora. Things are going to get a hell of a lot worse before there’s even a chance of them getting better.”

  “What happens if Tristan says no? Are you going to stop seeing Allison, or are you going to take the chance of her getting punished?” It occurs to me that I don’t know whether Evan would get punished by Jules, or whether the light leader even cares that he’s with one of the dark fae.

  “Then we’ll figure something else out.” He meets my gaze. “Tell me you’ll try. Please.”

  I inhale slowly through my nose, and let the air out through my mouth. “I’ll try.”

  He nods. “Thank you.”

  I drop my gaze. “You should go.”

  He steps back, heading for the door. “It was lovely to meet you, Aurora. Your reputation precedes you, and I must say, it’s remarkably accurate.” His lips curve upward. “I’ll see you around,” he says and leaves.

  I stare at the back of the door, my mind reeling with what Evan said, and what I agreed to do.

  I make a point never to be late for class. I consider it practice for the real world. If I’m late for work, that says I’m not dedicated to my job. This morning would be no different except I sleep through all three of my alarms. I’ve been in a state of exhaustion since being poisoned. I don’t know whether it’s remnants of fae magic running through my veins that makes it difficult to keep my eyes open all day, but I’m sleeping more often and longer than usual.

  When I do wake up, I grab my phone to check the time. My loud groan fills the empty room. Allison didn’t wake me before she left; that’s if she slept here last night.

  Throwing my comforter off, I force myself out of bed. I pull a comb through my tangled waves and brush my teeth while trying to throw together a presentable outfit. I’m out the door with a breakfast bar and my bag in less than fifteen minutes and all but sprint across campus. I’m still half an hour late. Of course, today’s class is held in the largest lecture hall, and my professor has a guest speaker scheduled.

  As I approach the double doors, I pray for an open seat along the back row that I can sneak into without interrupting. I silence my phone and slip it into my bag before I hold my breath and open the door. I tiptoe in and scan the room. A c
ouple of heads turn when the door shuts. I hurry to an empty seat, three rows from the front of the room, which means everyone watches as I make my way to it.

  Once I’m seated and have my laptop on the small fold-out desk in front of me, I let out a slow breath.

  “Glad you could join us, Aurora,” Richard, my business finance professor says.

  “I’m so—” Words stop forming the moment my eyes shift to the guest speaker. Fuck. “Sorry.”

  Tristan stands at the podium, front and center, grinning like a cat in his usual business attire. “As I was saying . . .”

  Sliding down in my seat as if my laptop could hide me, I pray to anyone who will listen that this lecture ends early.

  It becomes apparent that no one is listening to me when over an hour passes before Richard announces a break before the second half of the presentation. I groan and whip out my phone to occupy myself. Now would be the time to gather my things and get the hell out of here, but if I leave, I’ll never hear the end of it from Tristan.

  “He’s so young looking, so attractive—it’s unfair,” the girl beside me squeals to the girl next to her.

  “Unfair? It’s inhuman. Jesus, if he was our professor, I wouldn’t miss a single lecture. In fact, I’d apply for extra credit assignments”—she pauses—“with lots of after-hours work.”

  “Mmm, me too,” the first girl gushes.

  The sudden urge to rip my hair out makes annoyance simmer in me. I sit lower in my seat and press my lips together so I don’t respond.

  “Oh my gosh, he’s looking at me,” the one beside me whispers and slaps the other girl’s arm.

  “Uh, no he’s not, babe. He’s looking at her.”

  I don’t have to look up to know the her they’re referring to is me. Keeping my head down, I stare hard at my phone screen.

  Students who left for the break file back in, and the second half of the lecture gets underway. With Tristan’s focus on the lecture and addressing the room, I use the opportunity to look at him. He’s dressed how I’m used to seeing him at the office, and today it looks like he skipped shaving. It’s a look I could get behind.

 

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