That didn’t make sense to me, especially with him being at a place like The Court where humans were happily on the menu.
He said nothing.
“A month? A couple of months?” I whispered. Knowing what I did about the fae, they had to feed on a regular basis to slow down the aging process and give them their preternatural abilities. The Prince might look like he was in his mid to late twenties, but he had to be hundreds of years old, if not older. The fae metabolism was much like ours. They might not need three square human meals a day, but from the Order’s research, they had to feed at least once every other day.
“You need to go,” he said as the faint sound of sirens could be heard.
“And leave you here to bleed all over yourself, the alley, and perhaps even on police officers?”
“Do you really care what happens to me?”
My fingers twitched. “No.”
“Then go.” He started to back up.
I should go. I should leave his ass here to bleed out like a stuck pig. He was an Ancient, and even if he hadn’t fed in a few months….
Holy crap.
It struck me then. “You haven’t fed this whole time, have you? Not since the spell was broken.”
He tossed a glare at me over his shoulder through thin slits. “Aren’t you leaving?”
“What does that mean then if you haven’t fed in like two years? Can these wounds—”
“Kill me unless it’s treated or I feed? Probably not, but it’ll take a while to heal.” Grunting, he pushed against the hole in his shoulder. “I just need to get out of this alley.”
“You can’t go to the hospital.” Having a very human doctor discover that fae were a real thing was not exactly on the to-do list for tonight.
“No shit,” he grumbled.
I ignored that. “I can—I can get you back to Hotel Good—”
“No,” he interrupted, and I thought that he might’ve swayed a little. “You will not contact them.”
Confusion filled me. “What? Why?”
“Can you just accept an answer without following up with another damn question?” He let out another curse. “God, you’re infuriating.”
I lifted an eyebrow at that. “You know, if I am so infuriating, then you probably shouldn’t have stalked me into the alley.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” he grumbled. “And if I hadn’t been then you’d have ended up dead.”
I threw up my hands. “First off, you just admitted to stalking me after saying you didn’t, and we’ll address that, but most importantly? I’m not the one bleeding all over myself, now am I?”
He didn’t respond to that, at least not vocally, but I had a feeling he was mentally cursing me out.
“I’m fine. I just… I just need to get to my place,” he said, and he sounded like those words pained him.
The sirens were getting closer, and I needed to make up my mind. He needed help, whether he wanted it or not.
Taking a deep breath, I walked over to where he stood and decided. “Like it or not, I’m going to help you.”
* * * *
There weren’t a lot of moments in my life where I had to stop and ask myself what in the fuck I was doing.
For the most part, I lived a practical, boring existence—well, outside of my plan to hunt down the fae who’d attacked my mother and me. Other than that, I was like a bowl of white rice without any soy sauce.
But here I was, waiting for the Prince—the Prince—to unlock the door to what appeared to be one of the many old warehouses that had been converted into upscale condos.
Luckily he hadn’t argued with me when I’d led him out of the alley, and I was leading him. By the time we reached Royal Street, in the opposite direction of the sirens, his steps had slowed to a near crawl. I was able to flag down a cab and thank God, as far as I knew, he didn’t bleed all over the backseat.
The Prince didn’t speak beyond giving the cabbie his address. Not again after the ride. Not as I helped him get to the elevator and we went to the tenth floor, the top floor, and not as I stood beside him, shouldering what felt like the weight of a Volkswagen Bug.
The door finally opened and warm air rushed out as the Prince stumbled inside. A light came on, revealing a massive open floor design that… that didn’t even look lived in.
The walls were exposed brick and the living area faced floor to ceiling windows. There were two doors. One near the entrance that I figured was some kind of closet and the other on the other side of the living room. There was a TV and a large black, sectional couch, but beyond that, there was nothing else. At all.
“You can leave now.” He walked forward, stopping to place his hand on the white marble countertops that edged out the gourmet level kitchen that looked like it never once saw a meal cooked in it.
Because I was apparently making a series of bad life choices tonight, I followed him inside, closing the door behind me.
“Are you going to be okay?” I toyed with the button on my peacoat.
Lowering his head, he let out a long, shuddering breath. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” I inched closer to him, and I could smell it now. It mingled with that summer scent of his. I saw it on his hand, the bluish-red tint of fae blood. “Is there someone I can call? Your brother—”
“Do not call my brother,” he bit out, his fingers curling into a fist on the marble. “Do not call anyone.”
Exasperated, I looked around the condo before my eyes settled on him. “Obviously you’re not okay. You haven’t fed and you’re bleeding all over your nice wood floors. And I have no idea why you haven’t fed in two years—not that I don’t think that’s great and all, but your brother says he uses human volunteers—”
“You say that like you don’t believe it, but yes, my brother does not take from those who are not willing.”
“And you couldn’t find any volunteers?”
“There you go again, with the questions.” He shook his head slowly. “You need to leave.”
“But—”
“I do not think you understand.” He lifted his head again, and yep, those eyes were definitely starting to glow. He stared at me like… like he was hungry. Starved, really. “You need to leave now.”
A wave of shivers rolled over my skin as an innate sense forced me to take a step back from him. The atmosphere around us seemed to thin and charge with static.
The Prince turned, tracking my movements with a near predatory glint to those glowing faint blue eyes. “I won’t tell you again. If you don’t leave, you won’t have the choice to.”
Chapter 17
He didn’t have to tell me again.
I got out of that condo as fast as my two legs would carry me and I made it down the long hall, to the steel elevator doors before I stopped and looked behind me.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, knowing I should just hit the elevator button and go. He wasn’t my responsibility and just because I could appreciate his hotness didn’t mean I liked him.
Because I didn’t.
I stared at the elevator button.
Plus I had to figure out what the hell I was going to tell Tanner and Faye about Elliot and his weird as hell eyes. It would take Faye no leap of logic to jump to the conclusion that if Elliot had gone all evil fae, there was a good chance her cousin had too.
Turning from the elevator, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. “Damn it,” I muttered, folding one arm across my stomach as I called Tink.
He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Lite Bright, I was getting worried.”
“I’m okay, but there is a problem.” I glanced up the hall. “I’m with the Prince.”
There was a pause and then, “Like the Prince?”
“Yes.”
“As in Fabian’s brother?”
“Yes, Tink, unless there are other Princes I’m unaware of.”
“Why are you with him?” Tink demanded. “Oh my God, did you really have a dat
e tonight and then lied about looking for younglings? Oh, my God, you hussy.”
“Tink—”
“Hussy Brighton got good taste, though. Hold on, I need popcorn for this conversation.”
“Tink,” I snapped. “Come on, I’m not on a date with him and you don’t need popcorn for this conversation. I was out looking for the youngling and I ran into the Prince.” I figured I’d leave the whole Elliot part out at the moment. “He was shot multiple times.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yeah, and he’s in pretty bad shape. He didn’t want me to call his brother or anyone from Hotel Good Fae.”
“You just called me,” he pointed out.
“I know that.” Exasperated, I closed my eyes and kept my voice low. “I called because he’s in bad shape and he hasn’t fed.”
“He should still be okay. Probably needs to sleep it off—”
“He hasn’t fed in two years,” I cut him off.
“What?” Tink shrieked. “Are you serious right now? I need to call Fabian—”
“Don’t call him. He asked me not to.” I had no idea why I was following his orders. “Look, is he going to be okay or not?”
“No, Lite Bright, he is not going to be okay!” Tink yelled, and my stomach sunk. “If he hasn’t fed in two years, he’s basically mortal except it’s just going to take him longer to die!”
“Crap,” I muttered, turning back toward the Prince’s door. “Well, this sucks, because he’s alone at his place, and I’m not sure I can lure a human back for him to snack on.”
“You can feed him.”
“What?” I almost dropped the phone. “Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s not a big deal. Trust me. You’ll probably like it.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Brighton, he can’t die. Do you understand me? If he doesn’t feed, he will die and if he dies….”
“He’ll be dead?” Screw this. “Go ahead and call his brother. I don’t care if he gets pissed at me. I’m—”
“There’s no time to call Fabian. He’ll be dead by the time Fabian can get to him. You either need to offer yourself up as an all you can eat buffet of Brighton or you need to go kidnap some person and serve him up a dish of unwilling human.”
I had no words.
“And considering his background and all the terrible shit he knows he’s done while under the Queen’s spell, I’m sure he’ll be down for that,” Tink continued on.
There was another pitch to my stomach. “That sucks, but this isn’t my problem.”
“You called me, so obviously you think it’s your problem.”
He had me there.
“He can’t die,” Tink said into the phone, his voice more serious than I’d ever heard him before. “If he dies, then the entire Summer Court will be weakened.”
I started to say that also wasn’t my problem, but it kind of was. When the Queen came back, because she would, the Order and the world would need the Summer Court at full power.
“And if he dies, then Fabian becomes King and he… he can’t be King, Brighton.” Tink’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “If you can’t help him, then I will.”
“You helping him means you’re going to kidnap someone.” I turned, dragging my hand over my head. Crap! I hated my life. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Will you?” Tink asked. “Because like the entire Court and the world rests on you taking care of this.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you not at all worried he’s going to suck me dry?”
“No.” He was so quick to answer that I frowned so hard it was no wonder it didn’t break my face. “He would never hurt you, Brighton. Never.”
My face smoothed out as surprise rippled through me. It took me a second to even formulate a decent response. “Why would you even say that? You don’t know that.”
“I do know, because it’s true.” Tink took a big enough breath that I could hear it through the phone. “The Prince wouldn’t hurt you. Not when he already saved your life once before.”
“What?” I laughed. “What are you even talking about, Tink?”
“You said I saved your life the night you were attacked, but I didn’t save your life, Brighton. I just found you,” he said. “But it was the Prince who saved your life in the hospital.”
The memory of seeing the Prince suddenly resurfaced as I clutched the phone. I saw him there, but I thought… I thought it had just been some weird trauma or drug induced hallucination.
“You were going to die, Brighton. Too much damage had been done, but he did something. Do you understand?” Tink asked. “He saved your life and now you must save his.”
Chapter 18
How does one come to grips with the unexpected knowledge that someone they barely knew, someone who wasn’t even human and just happened to be the Prince, had not only saved their life but did God knows what to do it?
Part of me couldn’t even believe it because as far as I knew, the fae couldn’t heal humans. Unless it was something only Ancients could do. But if so, that was yet another thing I was unaware of, and I was supposed to be the leading authority on all things fae.
Apparently I didn’t know jack.
After promising Tink we were so going to have a conversation about all of this when I got home—if I got home—I found myself back at the Prince’s front door.
I couldn’t even let myself think about what I was doing as I reached out and turned the knob. It was still unlocked.
Saying a quick prayer that, all things considered, would probably go unanswered, I walked back into the quiet condo, closing the door behind me while hoping I was going to walk back out of there.
He saved your life and now you must save his.
This was insane.
What Tink had said was just unbelievable, but I kept walking.
The kitchen was empty and I stopped by the counter, spying a reddish-blue blotch of blood. That was probably going to stain the marble.
I don’t know what I was thinking when I walked around to the kitchen sink, picked up a towel and wiped up the blood. Probably because I wasn’t thinking at all.
There was no sight or sound of the Prince.
What if he was already dead?
He saved your life….
“Uh… hello?” I called out, tossing the towel into the sink. I eyed the door I figured led to a bedroom. “Uh, Prince? It’s me, Brighton?”
Silence.
Concern wiggled around in the pit of my stomach like a nest of vipers. I started toward the bedroom, seeing that the door was ajar. Lifting a trembling hand, I pushed it open. I’d been correct. It was a bedroom and it was as personable as the living room. In other words, it didn’t look remotely lived in. Just a super large bed in the middle of the room with deep blue sheets and comforter. There was a nightstand and a dresser. That was all.
Now you must save his….
Light spilled out from a room off from the bedroom and tiny tremors rattled my legs as I stepped farther inside. “Are you in here? Like alive?”
Several beats of silence passed and then, “I told you to leave.”
The guttural voice caused my breath to catch in my throat, and I froze.
“And you left.” There was another pause. “You should not have come back.”
The entire world with the exception of Tink would agree with that statement.
But I was here.
“I know… I know you’re not okay.” I forced my legs to move, and it was like walking in quicksand. I neared the swath of light. “I know that you’re going to be really not okay because you haven’t fed.”
There was no response.
Wanting to turn and run in the other direction, I did the opposite and stepped into the light.
And I saw him.
“Holy….”
The Prince was… he was shirtless, and while I’d seen a decent number of shirtless men in my life, I’d never seen one like him.
And that had nothing to
do with the trails of blood running down his back and stomach, as terrible as that was to admit. My priorities were so, so wrong, because I wasn’t checking out the ragged holes in his shoulder or chest. He was….
He was beautiful, even covered in blood.
All that golden, hard skin. Defined pecs. Abs tightly coiled and a dusting of golden hair that traveled below his navel to the band—
Oh, sweet Jesus, his pants were undone and hanging low enough that I could tell the man went commando underneath.
I should look away.
I couldn’t look away.
Not when my gaze got hung on those interesting indentions on either side of his hips. How in the world did someone get muscles there? I’d never seen that on someone in real life. Only in photographs or on TV. I was beginning to think those kind of muscles were fake news, but he had them and then some. Actually, his body was absolutely freaking glorious, and it was clear that I needed to obtain sexual gratification from anything other than my trusty vibrator, because I was staring at him like I’d never seen a man before and—
“Do you like what you see?” he asked.
Jerking my gaze to his, I felt heat blast my face as I blurted out the stupidest thing possible. “You’re bleeding.”
The Prince tilted his head to the side as he held a bloodied towel in his hand. “I was completely… unaware of this.”
A thousand smartass responses traveled to the tip of my tongue and died there, because he turned to the gray and black tiled shower stall. Muscles flexed and contracted as he tossed the towel into the stall.
“You have to know why I told you… to leave,” he was saying, twisting at the waist and gripping the basin of the sink so tightly his knuckles bleached white. “I will be fine.”
He saved my life? How?
He had to have, because why would Tink lie? And I knew I should’ve died that night. The pain and all that blood and the scars… the scars no one but those doctors have seen.
The Prince saved my life.
And not only that, he understood why I had to do what I had to do. He didn’t like it. He made it more than clear he didn’t want me to do it and now a lot of what he’d said made sense, but he still understood.
The Summer King Bundle: 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 13