The hair along the back of my neck was still standing. “Your parents are worried about you, Elliot. Where have you been?”
“My parents?” He straightened his head and moved even closer. “Those stupid posers? Those weak wannabe humans? They’re not my parents. Not anymore.”
Uh oh.
“And I know you. You’re with the Order.” Elliot hissed like a cornered cat, a very large and very pissed-off cat, and even in the shadowy alley, I could see the sabertooth-like teeth descending from his gaping mouth.
Oh crap, Elliot was so not on Team Good Fae anymore. Not at all.
There was no chance to question why in the hell Elliot was suddenly all psychotic. Yanking at the stake, I realized too late I should’ve just engaged the cuff. Elliot launched into the air like a rocket. In one stuttered heartbeat, he was on me, his body crashing into mine. The impact knocked me off my feet and my baseball cap off my head, and I went down hard. Air punched out of my lungs.
Never let them get you on the ground.
Those words from the most basic of trainings roared through my head as my eyes opened wide.
I’d been on my back before. I knew how this ended.
Elliot crouched over me, gripping the collar of my jacket. Our gazes connected—
Something… something was wrong with his eyes. They weren’t the pale blue of the fae. They were pitch black, so dark I couldn’t even see the irises.
I’d never seen anything like that, not in person or in the many books I’d studied on the fae.
Panic sparked deep in my chest as I struggled to get my stupid hand out of my pocket. The wicked sharp edge caught on the interior of my coat, snagging and tearing the cloth. He lifted me upward as he swung a fist back. Elliot punched down, but I flung myself up and over. His fist slammed into the pavement as my forehead cracked off his.
He cursed as he jerked.
Rocking backward, I ignored the bitter taste of fear and swung my legs up, wrapping them around his narrow waist. Using my weight, I flipped Elliot off me as I rolled. On top of him, I reared back as I pulled the stake out, tearing the pocket in the process. I lifted it high, preparing to jam it straight through his chest.
Elliot’s fist connected with my stomach. The burst of pain stole my breath, but I powered through it, swinging the dagger downward.
The fae was fast, slamming his hands into my chest. I flew backward, landing on my butt. Before I could recover, Elliot shot off the ground and was on me once more. I’d held onto the dagger, gritting my teeth as his hand came down on my throat, his fingers digging into my windpipe. I swung the stake around, thinking a head shot would do the trick.
His hand suddenly left my throat and then Elliot was flipping through the air as if invisible hands had snatched him up.
Gasping for breath, I rolled onto my side, my free hand splaying across the pavement. Several strands of blonde hair had slipped free from my ponytail, blocking one eye.
Elliot was rising to his feet. He spun and then his body jerked back a step. He was frozen for a moment and then his body just caved into itself, sucking itself back into the Otherworld with a faint pop and sizzle.
“Holy smokes….” Breathing heavy, I started to sit up. Gratefulness warred with dread. Obviously an Order member had intervened, which was great, but also meant I was busted, so freaking busted.
A tall, broad shadow strolled forward. The light of the lamp sliced over an iron dagger and black gloves. Gloves? It was cold, but not that cold.
Wait.
I started to rise as I lifted my gaze. Every muscle in my body locked up. I saw who’d come to my quite unnecessary rescue and anxiety exploded like a buckshot along with a hefty amount of WTF.
Now I understood the gloves.
It wasn’t an Order member who’d intervened.
He now stood under the lamp, and I would swear the light intensified as it shone down on him, as if powered by his presence.
The Prince stood before me. “We meet yet again.”
Chapter 15
My hand tightened on the iron stake as the buzz of anticipation swept through me. No way should I be excited to see him—and the mere thought of that was so utterly confusing—but I was.
So I ignored the feeling. “You totally just stabbed Elliot.”
His brows lowered as he hooked the stake to what I assumed was some hidden sheath. “I did.”
“You do realize he was one of the missing younglings, right?”
“You do realize you were trying to stab him in the head, which would have roughly the same result as what I did?”
Okay. He had a good point.
“And you do realize he was about to choke the life out of you?”
“I completely had that handled,” I said. “Completely.”
“Is that so?” He folded his arms across his chest as he stared down his nose at me. “You looked like you had everything under control with his hands around your throat. Just like you looked like you had everything under control Monday night, when—”
“I had that fae under control and I was about to stab him in the head,” I reminded him. “Before I was rudely interrupted.”
The Prince cocked his head to the side. “Saving your life is rudely interrupting you?”
“I didn’t need my life saved, thank you very much.” Pushing to my feet, I met his stare with a glare I was rather proud of.
“That’s not the thank you I was expecting, but I’ll take it.” His lips curled into a smirk as my mouth clamped shut. “What were you doing out here, Brighton? I thought we had an understanding.”
“We did? Because I’m pretty sure that I never gave you any indication that we had an understanding.” I turned away from him and then gasped, stumbling a step back. He was in front of me. “Jesus.”
“Not quite.” His arms were at his sides.
“Ha. Ha.” I rolled my eyes as I fought a grin.
“Why are you out here, Brighton?” He was not nearly as amused as I was. “You’re not an Order member.”
“I am an Order member.” And whatever amusement I was feeling evaporated. My hand around the stake twitched and I resisted the urge to lob it at his smirking face—his very attractive, smirking face. “I was born into the Order and I am willing to give my life to fulfill my duty to the Order.”
“I stand corrected,” he demurred, dipping his chin. “However, you are not a hunter.”
“Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious.”
He stared down at me.
Exhaling roughly, I shook my head as anger and a good dose of embarrassment churned inside me. I was a real Order member. God. “Look, thanks for getting involved when you weren’t needed, but I’ve got things to do that don’t involve standing in an alley talking to you.”
“Really? What are those things you have to do? Go to Flux? The Court? Risk being seen again?”
I ran my tongue along the roof of my mouth. “Actually, no. And you know what, why are you out here? How did you just happen to be in this alley? Not exactly a place on the must-see list of New Orleans. I’m beginning to think—” I sucked in an unsteady breath. I hadn’t heard him move, but he’d shifted closer.
“Think what?” he asked.
I tossed the stake up and then caught it. “It’s just weird.”
“What?”
“How in the last week, you’ve nearly showed up everywhere I’ve been. It’s almost like you’re following me.”
“What if I was?”
I almost dropped the stake as my gaze flew to his face. His expression was unreadable and I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “Really? That’s not creepy or anything.”
His sigh was so heavy I was surprised it didn’t shake the buildings. “You shouldn’t be out here.”
“What do you want from me?” I challenged. “I mean, really? Are we going to have this conversation every five minutes?”
“What do I want from you?” An emotion flickered across his face, parting his lips. “Th
at’s a loaded question.”
I started to frown as I tossed the stake up again. “Not really.”
His hand shot out with a speed that was both unnerving and impressive, snatching the stake out of the air with gloved fingers.
“Hey!” I reached for it.
The Prince deftly avoided my grasp. “That is incredibly distracting—”
“It’s not my fault you can’t multitask,” I muttered.
“And incredibly dangerous,” he continued. “I really don’t want to see it go through your hand.”
I popped my hands onto my hips. “It wasn’t going to go through my hand.”
“Rather be safe than sorry.” He smiled tightly at me, and that just annoyed me to no end.
I started to ask for my stake back, but he spoke again. “You’re not a hunter,” he repeated, changing the subject. “Why were you out here?”
Back to that again. I sighed. “I wasn’t out here patrolling. I was seeing if I could find one of the missing younglings, which I did. However, that didn’t end well.”
“No, it did not.”
Knocking a strand of hair back from my face, I glanced at the mouth of the alley. “I thought it was a Winter fae first because he was following a woman, so I kept an eye on him—and yes, I know, I’m not a hunter, but I’m not going to walk away and leave someone to fend for themselves.”
“You should have.”
My head swung back to his. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
His eyebrow rose.
“Anyway, I saw his face and realized it was one of the missing younglings. I thought maybe I misjudged what he was doing since he broke away from the woman and walked into this alley, but he knew I was following him,” I explained, troubled by what had occurred. “It was a trap in a way. He came at me.”
“That makes no sense,” he said, head tilting slightly. “The Summer fae do not attack humans.”
“Yeah, well, he attacked me and I did nothing to instigate it either.” There was something pecking away at the fringes of my thoughts. “Wait a second. Elliot said some weird stuff. He said his parents weren’t his parents any longer and he also called them wannabe humans.”
“Did he say anything else?” he demanded.
I shook my head as I saw Elliot’s face in my mind. “But his eyes were messed up.”
“What do you mean?”
“They were pitch black, like I couldn’t even see the irises….” I trailed off as I thought about his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like that, but….”
He stepped toward me, voice low. “Are you positive that is what you saw?”
“Yes. He was this close to my face.” I put my hand within kissing distance of my face to show him. “His eyes were all black.”
The Prince’s jaw hardened as he looked away.
There was a sudden feeling where I felt like I’d seen something or a reference to eyes like that before, but I couldn’t place it. Like a word that rose to the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t quite grasp it. “Do you… do you know what could cause that?”
“I don’t—” The Prince’s head swung sharply to the left and then a curse exploded out from him. He moved toward me just as a shot rang out, echoing through the alley.
Chapter 16
The Prince crashed into me, taking me to the ground before I had a chance to see who was shooting at us. I had only a moment to prepare myself for the bone-shaking impact with the ground, but that never came.
Somehow, he shifted at the final second, taking the brunt of the fall. He hit the ground hard, my front plastered to his long length for about a heartbeat and then he rolled suddenly, shoving me under his body as the cracks of a gun firing went off again—and again. My entire body jerked in surprise as a bullet hit the ground right beside our heads, sending tiny pieces of gravel into the air.
The Prince lifted his head and those near transparent eyes locked onto mine. “Stay down,” he ordered.
“W-What?”
Launching to his feet, he spun around and then he was no longer there, moving so fast I couldn’t track him in the shadowy alley.
I flipped onto my belly, lifting my head as I kept low to the ground. I was going to stay down, because I really didn’t want to get hit. Another shot rang out and then I heard a grunt as my gaze swung to the back of the alley.
Two large forms collided. There was a flash of reddish-yellow glow coming from the hands of the Prince, a circular flash of light that reminded me of a fire ball. And then the smell of burnt metal filled the air a second before one of the bodies flew back several feet, slamming into the building opposite me.
The body fell forward into the dim light. My eyes widened as I saw that it was a fae. That… that was uncommon.
They rarely used guns, but unless a human had doused themselves in silver paint and had their ears shaved into points, that was definitely a fae.
The Prince tossed the ruined gun aside, and I knew he’d been the source of the burnt scent of metal. He’d done something to that gun.
Dear God, that kind of power….
He prowled forward like a caged animal finally unleashed, his chin dipped low, and I swore those pale eyes were glowing. “Who sent you?” he demanded, his voice a deadly growl that sent a wave of shivers through me. “Was it Aric?”
Struggling to his feet, the fae swayed as he reached into his boot. I tensed, expecting him to whip out another gun.
I was wrong.
It was an iron stake.
The fae grabbed it with his bare hand. He hissed in pain, lips peeling back in a snarl as he straightened.
The Prince shot forward. “Don’t—”
Too late.
Slamming the business end of the stake into the center of his chest, the fae ended it right then and there. Within a few short seconds the fae who’d shot at us was gone.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, raising unsteadily to my feet. “Did that just happen?”
“Yes.” The Prince was suddenly in front of me, causing me to jerk back a step. His expression was drawn and tight. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I think so.” I felt myself up, searching for holes that shouldn’t be there. “What the hell just happened?”
“I do believe we were being shot at.”
Hands stilling, I lifted my gaze back to his. “Gee. Really? Let me clarify my question. Why do you think a fae shot at us and then sent his sniper ass back to the Otherworld? That doesn’t happen every day.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. Not in my world. It happens in yours?”
“I’ve made a lot of enemies, sunshine. A lot who’d rather see me return to who I was,” he said, and my chest squeezed at the mere mention of him returning to the Prince who was an absolute nightmare. “Or see me dead.”
“That’s kind of scary—” Gasping, I jerked my hand away from my stomach. It was wet, and even in the poor lighting, I could see the dark smudges. “There’s blood on my hand.”
“You said you were okay.” One hand was suddenly wrapped around my wrist while the other was on my stomach, pressing.
“Hey!” I smacked at his hand, but he studiously ignored me. “I don’t think I’m bleeding.” When he still felt along my midsection, I caught his hand and squeezed hard. “I think it’s your blood.”
“I’m fine,” he gruffed out. “Are you sure you haven’t been hit?”
“Pretty sure I’d know if I’d been shot,” I said, squinting at him. He was wearing a dark thermal and pants, like he had the first time I’d seen him. I placed my hand on his right shoulder and felt nothing. I slid my hand down his chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice deeper, thicker.
My gaze lifted to his, and I thought I probably should pull my hand away, but I didn’t. I moved to the other pec, and it was me who sucked in air this time. Wet warmth hit my palm. “You’ve been shot.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?”
I exclaimed. He let go of my wrist, so I got both hands involved. “You’ve been shot in the shoulder, too!”
The Prince said nothing.
I didn’t know the biology of Ancients, but I figured, like the fae, they could survive mortal wounds. But a chest and shoulder wound? I stepped back, lowering my hands and wiping them over my jeans. Did the pant leg of his right thigh look darker? Shot three times? That… that was a lot.
My stomach pitched with concern I probably shouldn’t feel, but he had covered my body with his when shots rung out and he had paid for the crab cakes and crawfish.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, looking over my shoulder, to the entrance of the alley. “With that many gunshots, police will be on their way. Can you heal yourself?”
“Normally.” His voice was off. Not like it had been when I’d been feeling him up or Monday night, but there was something strained about it. “You should get out of here before the police arrive.”
Or more gun toting fae showed up since this was apparently an everyday occurrence to him. “What do you mean by normally?”
“Do you always ask this many questions?” he demanded.
“Yes. Is it annoying?”
“Yes,” he growled.
“Sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with it,” I shot back.
He’d moved back into the shadows, but I could practically feel his glare. “You know that the fae can heal from virtually any wound if they feed,” he said.
And rather quickly too. That’s what made fighting them so dangerous. You didn’t have a lot of time for what they’d consider flesh wounds.
“I know that, so you should….” Understanding dawned. “You… you need to feed?”
He let out a dry, racking laugh. “Something like that.”
“When was the last time you… you fed?” Those words sickened me, and a part of me didn’t want to know the answer.
“A while.”
I stared at him for what felt like a whole minute. “What exactly does ‘a while’ mean? A couple of days? A week?”
“Try longer than that.”
A frown pulled at my lips. “Longer than a couple of weeks?”
The Summer King Bundle: 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 12