“He hasn’t forgotten.” Tink’s voice was soft. “I don’t think you understand why he’s done what he’s done.”
Oh, I thought I understood perfectly. I was nothing to him, and whatever we did have had just been a mistake in his eyes. After all, he was not only a fae, he was the King, and I was just…Brighton, a thirty-year-old who had helped his brother once when injured. The King claimed that wasn’t the reason he’d healed me after the attack, but I believed differently. He felt like he owed me.
“I don’t care enough to understand his motivations,” I said. “I know why he doesn’t want me out there.”
The King didn’t want me to stand down just because it wasn’t safe. And while I at least hoped he didn’t want to see me dead, I didn’t think he was losing any sleep over the possibility.
No, the real reason was that the King was also looking for Aric. Back in the Otherworld, the Ancient had been one of his Knights. Aric had betrayed him to Queen Morgana, stabbing him through the chest and weakening him so that he was susceptible to the batshit crazy Queen and her magic. So, yeah, he had valid reasons for going after him.
But so did I.
If the King found Aric first, he’d kill him, and I would never get the chance to carry out my vengeance against the creature responsible for killing my mom. And, well, that was…that was all I had.
* * * *
The rapid thump of music from the overhead speakers matched my mood as I swayed in the shadows of Flux’s dance floor, a club that catered to the fae. This was where I’d found and killed Tobias, one of the fae who’d joined Aric in the attack against my mother and me.
I wasn’t worried about being recognized in the mass of twisting human flesh that churned alongside and against the fae in the place. Most of those that frequented Flux were of the Winter Court—the bad Court that actively hunted humans to feed on so the fae did not age. The very same Court that belonged to Queen Morgana. Every so often a Summer fae was spotted, but those sightings were few and far between.
I saw no fae at all tonight.
Questing hands slipped from my waist and slid down to my hips again. Frustration made me grab What’s His Name’s wrists harder than I intended. I’d honestly rather be scrubbing my lady bits with a brillo pad than dancing with an obvious first-timer to New Orleans, one who wore so much cologne, he could star in an Axe body spray commercial. However, lurking alone in a club like this was suspicious. Not when everyone came here to hook up.
“Damn, girl, you got a hell of a grip on you,” he murmured into my ear. “That’s hot.”
I rolled my eyes as I placed his hands back on my waist.
“So, you come here a lot?” He squeezed my hipbones.
“No,” I said, focusing on the dance floor near the stairs that led to the private second level, where the fae normally chilled in-between glamouring humans and feeding on them.
“Then I guess it’s my lucky night, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to tell him to not only talk less but also wear less cologne, when I felt a tight shiver of awareness. The kind of feeling you got when it felt as if someone were—
The man behind me shouted in surprise. His hands left my hips as I spun around. The dark-haired tourist stumbled, catching his balance on a nearby table. He shoved off it, puffing out his chest, but drew up short a second before broad shoulders and a tapered waist clad in a black shirt blocked my view. The guy’s blond hair was secured in a short ponytail, and the scent of summer rain replaced the overpowering musk of cologne.
I sucked in a sharp breath of disbelief as I saw What’s His Name dart to my left, intelligently wanting nothing to do with what stood in front of me.
I could not believe it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited. I didn’t have to wait long. He decided to grace me with a full-frontal of what had to be—unfortunately—the most beautiful male face I’d ever seen.
The King was here.
Chapter 2
The sense of deja vu was too strong to ignore. It felt like an eternity ago that I’d come face to face with him inside this very club, and the last time we’d met in here, I’d tried to spin-kick him.
I had a feeling that history might repeat itself.
Cad—the King, I corrected myself. The King was stunning. Cheekbones as sharp as a blade, nose straight and aristocratic, and a jaw that could’ve been carved out of marble. He had the kind of face you found yourself staring at and wondering how it could be real. And now, those full, expressive lips were tilted in a smirk.
Seeing him so unexpectedly seemed to short-circuit my brain because I wasn’t thinking about how he’d hurt me. All I could think about was how good he’d made me feel. Not in the physical sense, though that had been amazing too, even though we hadn’t had sex. But it was the important stuff. I…I missed that.
“You can do better than that, sunshine,” the King of the Summer Court drawled.
My stupid, stupid heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d told me that he called me that because I reminded him of the sun.
Such BS.
Pulling the anger around me like a favorite sweater, I walled up my heart, protecting it from its own stupidity. I lifted my gaze, ignoring how the amber color of the King’s eyes both frightened and tantalized me. “Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you wish.” He stepped forward, and my eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you can imagine my utter lack of surprise at discovering you here.”
“And I’m sure you can imagine my utter lack of surprise realizing that you’re stalking me again.”
He arched a brow. “Well, who else is there to keep you from getting yourself killed?”
My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. “I don’t need anyone to do that other than myself. And I especially do not need you.”
“That’s your opinion,” he stated as if it were the stupidest belief in history. “I know why you’re here. You’ve learned that Neal was seen.”
No point in lying. “And if you’re here now, there’s no way he’s going to show up.”
The King’s smile was real, stealing a little of my next breath. “Exactly.”
My hands curled into fists as the realization that tonight had been an utter waste slammed into me. The only thing I got out of it was being groped. If the King was here, Neal would be nowhere near.
“You’re a jerk,” I spat, spinning around and stalking off.
I didn’t look back to see if he followed as I cut around the dance floor and made my way toward the exit.
I hadn’t seen the King the entire week and a half I’d been out here looking for Neal or Aric—or any fae who may know where they were. A few times, I’d felt the creepy sensation of being watched, but if that had been him, he’d never revealed himself. Until now.
Shaking my head, I slammed my hands on the door and stepped out into the cool evening air, letting it wash over my sticky skin. Goosebumps rose, but I didn’t care. In a few weeks, it would be as humid and horrible as Satan’s balls.
Part of me wasn’t surprised that the King had found me so easily in the club. Like I’d admitted while I was getting ready, he always knew it was me, no matter how drastically I altered my appearance.
How bizarre was that?
And I also wasn’t surprised when I heard his voice behind me. “You should be home.”
“You should mind your own business.” A horn blew from somewhere along the packed Warehouse District streets. Ever since developers had decided to reclaim a lot of the empty industrial buildings and turn them into expensive apartment complexes, clubs, and bars, the traffic was getting as bad as it was over in the Quarter. I shot him a glare over my shoulder. “And you better not be talking to Tink about me. That’s not cool.”
“I’m not,” he answered, and then his brow creased. “But he did tell me about something to do with tuna and a possible food illness.”
My mouth gaped. “Tink told you about that?”
The King nodded.
I was going to kill that damn brownie with my bare hands. I picked up my pace.
The King easily caught up to me, walking on the side of the traffic. “What you’re doing is my business. You’re my business.”
I shot him a look. “Yeah, no, I’m not.”
“You’re out here hunting a fae—”
“That you want to kill yourself. Cool story.” I stopped at the street sign, tugging down the hem of my skirt. Power walking in spandex was not advised.
“That’s not why. It’s not safe.”
“I can defend myself.” The moment the little green man appeared on the light, I hurried across the street, toes cramped in the narrow boots.
The King was right beside me, his long-legged pace easily matching mine. “I do not doubt that.”
“You don’t?” I forced out another laugh.
“No, I don’t, but this is different. You’re looking for a Knight. A skilled warrior who has killed indiscriminately in the past. If you thought the Order had a right to fear me when I was under the control of the Queen, they should be even more worried about him.”
That made me stumble. When the King had been under the spell of Queen Morgana, he’d been a psychotic killing machine. But I already knew that Aric was just as bad. I had the scars all over me to prove it.
But in reality, I knew very little about the Ancient. There was nothing in my mother’s journals or on file with the Order. I’d checked. And it wasn’t like the King and I had been on speaking terms beyond trading death glares.
I stopped, ignoring the muttered curses of the guy behind me. “Tell me about him. I want to know everything.”
The King looked away, jaw tight. “He was my Knight, and he betrayed me, stabbing me through the chest while I fought.”
“I know that. Tell me what he’s like. What makes him tick. What—?”
“Why? Why do you think this information is important? So you can build a profile on him?” Fiery amber eyes met mine. “Nothing I tell you will help you fight him and survive. You,” he said, stepping into me, “you are just…”
“What?” I challenged. “I’m just a human?”
“You’re just Brighton,” he said. “You cannot defeat him.”
Just Brighton? What the hell was that supposed to mean? I didn’t think I wanted to know. “Look, I don’t care what you think. I’m going to find Aric, one way or another. You can’t stop me, and frankly, I’m done talking to you. Goodnight.”
I started walking again, getting halfway down the street before I realized that I was going in the wrong direction.
Damn it.
Not like I was going to turn around now. No way. Nothing screamed “skilled badass” like going in the wrong direction in the damn city you had grown up in.
“What’s your plan, sunshine? Find Neal? Then what?” He caught my arm, stopping me at the mouth of a dimly lit alley. “How do you plan to make him talk? To bring you to Aric? You plan to use your feminine wiles?”
“Feminine wiles? Buddy, it’s not the fifteenth century any longer.” I tugged on my arm, but he held on. “And I plan to use an iron blade in his throat. That’s how.”
“Really?” The King’s grip was hard, but his palm felt like fire on my skin. “Neal may not be much of a fighter, but he is still an Ancient, capable of throwing you across the street without even touching you.”
“I will have the element of surprise.”
“That’s a godforsaken terrible plan.”
My face flushed under the layers of foundation. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“You should ask someone.” His eyes widened with surprise. “Anyone. They’d tell you the same thing.”
“I have a plan,” I seethed, pulling on my arm. And I did. Kind of. Not that I was going to share it with him. “Why do you even care?”
His eyes flashed a stunning tawny color, and somehow, he was even closer, and we were no longer on the sidewalk but in the alley. Each breath I took was filled with his fresh scent. “Because if you do happen to find Neal and force him to bring you to Aric, he will kill you, and it will be slow and painful.”
The image of Aric formed in my mind. Short, with light brown hair and a scar that cut through his upper lip. Coldly, cruelly handsome. He had the most…malicious laugh I’d ever heard.
“I already lost someone—” He cut himself off, and I frowned. “You have no idea what you’re up against and the type of cruelty he is capable of. He already knows we’re connected. You do not need to be on his radar any more than you already are. You’re…” He trailed off, but my mind decided to fill in the blank with something he’d once said to me.
You are a treasure, Brighton.
Yeah, what he’d told me before had obviously been a lie. What had he said about us? Not like I’d forget that anytime soon. He’d said it was a mistake—a stupid mistake.
It hadn’t been for me. God, it had been the opposite. I had opened myself up for the first time since the attack, feeling comfortable enough to talk about how I needed retribution and about that night. Because I had believed…I believed that he understood. I’d let him in.
I pushed all of that aside. “Let go of me. There’s nothing I want to talk to you about.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Agree to let this need for revenge go, and I will.”
“How about you agree to do the same thing? Oh, wait, we’ve had this conversation. You think it’s different because it’s you.”
The King’s eyes swept over my face. “You want to know about Aric. I think you’re being this way because of us.”
“There’s no us,” I shot back.
“You’re right.”
The sharp slice of pain returned, cutting through me as if he’d jammed a knife into my chest.
His nostrils flared, and he took a step toward me. “Shit.”
Damn it, he was sensing what I was feeling. There were a lot of things that annoyed me when it came to Caden, but this was probably in the top three.
The King looked away, jaw hard. “I’m—”
“Don’t.”
He ignored me. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.”
“But you do.”
“And that’s the problem, right? You know, I do have something to say to you. You led me on. But for what reason? That’s what I don’t get. What did you have to gain by pretending you…wanted me? Were you just bored and decided to mess with my head?”
His gaze snapped back to mine. “That was not it.”
“Then, what? You felt like you owed me because I let you feed on me when you were dying?” I demanded. “Or were you just slumming it with the thirty-year-old human?”
The King’s eyes widened, and when he spoke, his voice was so low that I almost didn’t hear him. “Why do you view yourself so poorly?”
“What?” I gasped, skin flashing hot and then cold.
He shook his head. “You have to. It’s the only reason you’d believe that was my motivation.”
His words stunned me, and the little voice in the back of my head that whispered that there was some truth to what he stated propelled me into action. I yanked on my arm and, this time, he let me go. Unprepared for the shift, I stumbled backward, and my damn boots were no help.
The King sprang forward, catching me. A startled heartbeat later, I was in his arms, and my hands were on his chest.
Holy crap.
This was as close as we’d been since he kissed me, and I seemed to have forgotten how incredibly warm he was. His body heat chased the chill from the air. Standing this close to him was like sunbathing. My skin turned shivery as a deep, aching pulse took root.
Space. I needed space. Like a different time zone’s worth of space.
But I didn’t move.
Slowly, I lifted my head. Our gazes connected.
There was hotness to his stare. A thick, predatory gleam to his eyes, and a challenge to the way his lips parted. A wild thought occurred to me. He
wanted me to push him away, and he wanted to chase.
A deep, hidden part of me wanted to be hunted by him.
And that was so wrong.
The King’s gaze drifted over my face once, then moved lower. I felt my chest swell against his.
“I hate when you look like this,” he said, his voice thick. “Not the dress. I love the dress. And the shoes. But the hair? Makeup? I hate it.”
It took nothing for me to remember him telling me that before. The fact that he preferred me, the real me, was one of the reasons I…
Why I had started to fall for him.
His chin lowered. “You should burn all these wigs and throw away the makeup.”
My heart pounded. “Not going to happen.” I sounded way too breathless. Way too affected.
“That’s a shame.” His head tilted, and then his lips were inches from mine. When he spoke, I felt his breath. “I would pay any amount of money for that.”
I considered that. “How much? Tink is an expensive roommate.”
“I can imagine.” His eyes took on a heavy-lidded quality, and I felt the softest, barely-there brush of his mouth.
I gasped.
The King jerked away. This time, he didn’t spring forward when I stumbled. I caught myself as he moved back several steps until he wasn’t even within arm’s reach of me. Breathing heavily, I didn’t know if I should feel relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t kissed me. Well, the problem was, I knew I should feel relieved. And I didn’t. Disappointment crashed through me as we stared at each other in the soft glow of the street lamps.
“Go home,” he said after a few moments. “There’s nothing here for you.”
I flinched at the double meaning. His words stung, but a wave of prickly heat soothed the hurt. I latched on to it. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m not.” He folded his arms. “I’m giving you a choice.”
“Really?” I laughed as I mimicked his stance, crossing my arms. “Sure doesn’t sound like it.”
“Oh, but it is. I’m telling you to go home, and I’m giving you the choice to do so all by yourself. Or, I could pick you up, put you in my car, and drive you there.”
The Summer King Bundle: 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 20