Torn

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I halted, my breath catching. “Does the door lock?”

  Tink cocked his head to the side. “You can lock it. When you’re in here or when you leave, but you don’t have to.”

  Swallowing hard, I said, “Oh, okay.”

  He stared at me a moment, and with a rare show of seriousness, he said, “You’re not being kept captive here, Ivy.”

  I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose. Then I nodded and made myself go into the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I walked over to the small shower stall and turned the water on. My thoughts raced a million miles a minute as I stripped off the ruined gown and stepped under the hot water. I focused on the stings and aches as I showered, getting all the dirt and blood off me. Then I turned off the water, dried off, and found the robe. Tink was right. This fluffy gray robe was much nicer than mine.

  I didn’t look at myself in the large mirror as I left the bathroom.

  Tink wasn’t back yet. I went to the bed and sat down. There was a mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. I looked around as I slid my hands along the robe. This room was nothing like the one at Drake’s, but my stomach churned.

  “I’m not there,” I whispered.

  I kept repeating that over and over as I scooted back against the pillows. Yes, I was in another house full of fae, and in another bedroom, but this wasn’t the same. It was nothing at all like that, and I—

  There was a knock on the door and then it cracked open. Tink came in, carrying one of the weekender bags I rarely used. He walked it over to the dresser and placed it on top. He also had what looked like iron daggers and stakes in his hands, but I wasn’t paying attention to either of those things.

  Tink had on some kind of sling, like the kind mothers carry their newborn babies around in. What in the world . . .

  “I brought you some weapons, but don’t let the other fae see them.” He arranged them on the dresser like I had them at home, and I thought I saw the sling wiggle. “Iron kind of wigs them out.”

  “Understandable,” I murmured, squinting. “Tink—”

  “I grabbed some of your jeans and sweaters, and yeah, I kind of had to grab the unmentionables, so I sort of rifled through your underwear”—something made a sound from the sling, a tiny, tinny sound—“and honey child boo-boo, you should buy some thongs, because really, the boy shorts are so yesteryear.”

  My lips pursed. “Um, Tink, what’s up with the sling?”

  “Oh, this?” He smiled nervously as he ran his hand through his hair. White-blond strands stood straight up. “Well, do you remember before you got all kidnapped by the prince of the Otherworld? I left a message about it, but you probably don’t remember.”

  Left a message?

  “I’m not even sure you got the message.” He crept toward the bed, and I heard the sound again. Something small in the sling squirmed, and Tink stopped beside me. “I didn’t get it from Amazon. Well, I got this sling from Amazon, but not Dixon.” He reached inside the sling and took out this tiny little ball of gray fur. Holding it up, he said, “Dixon, meet Ivy.”

  It meowed pitifully.

  My mouth dropped open.

  Tink held a kitten—an extraordinarily adorable kitten. A kitten that I had told him not to get, but he had it and he was carrying it around in a sling. Tink sat down and placed the little fur ball on the bed.

  It meowed again, prancing up the bed, then clawed its way up my robe-covered leg, continuing until it was in my lap. The kitten was all gray except for the tip of its tail, which looked like it had been dipped in white paint.

  “I needed a pet,” he reasoned. “And I haven’t accidentally killed it yet, so win.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered, picking it up and lifting it so it was eye-level with me. It gave another admittedly cute meow, and I was lost in the kitten’s brilliant blue eyes.

  “Are you mad, Ivy? I know you said no, but well, I don’t have a real excuse. I kind of just did what I wanted.”

  I brought the kitten close to my face, smiling when it stretched out a tiny leg and planted its paw on my nose. “I’m not mad. Honestly.” I sat the kitten down on the bed and it waddled off to investigate Tink’s fingers. “Dixon? Named after a certain Walking Dead character?”

  “Of course.” Tink jerked his thumbs at his shirt. “Proud Daryl lover over here.”I laughed, and it sounded strange and hoarse to my own ears. I couldn’t remember the last time I genuinely laughed. I took a shaky breath. “What happened?”

  Tink wiggled his fingers for the kitten. “Maybe you should tell Tink what happened to you.”

  Biting my lip, I shook my head. “I . . . I . . . Can you just tell me first?”

  For a moment, I thought he was going to protest. “You left Wednesday morning and that was it. Then, about a week later, Ren showed up. He told me that you’d been taken by the prince. He didn’t know how to get back to you. He said he barely remembered his time at the house where you two were kept, and he had no idea how to find it.”

  God, I hoped that was the case. I really did. It would be a blessing, a true gift, to have no memories.

  “Then a fae showed up at your place. Not a good one. We took care of that. Together.” He paused, grinning proudly. “The fae was totally gunning for Ren. Said he was going to take Ren’s body back to the prince, and he would be awarded something creepy like humans for dinner for life, but that obviously didn’t happen.”

  My hands curled into fists. Son of a bitch. I knew it. The prince couldn’t touch Ren, but I knew the other fae would be going after him to gain some kind of favor from their leader.

  “We talked about going to the Order, but he knew that wouldn’t be smart, because of what you are. You told him.”

  I opened my mouth.

  “Can’t get pissed at you for that, because it’s kind of a moot point considering he got captured and would’ve found out anyway. But you lied to me. When you were upset and said you two had a fight, it was because you told him the truth. Actually, that doesn’t even matter now.” As he talked, the kitten grew tired of trying to jump on his fingers and moseyed on up my legs, plopping down in my lap. “Anyway, it was only like a day after the fae attack when Kalen showed up. Or maybe Dane? I don’t know. They all look alike.”

  My brows inched up my forehead as I scratched Dixon behind the ear.

  “Dane or possibly Kalen said that he could help us get you back. Of course, Ren tried to kill him. It was kind of dramatic, but finally Dane slash possibly Kalen mentioned this Merle person, who by the way, is pretty cool but a bit of an odd bird. And Ren started listening to him. Dane slash possibly Kalen said that they had someone on the inside who would get in contact when they thought they could help you get out,” he continued. “We tried to look for you first. I left the house with him. It was loud. I forgot how loud the world is, but we didn’t know where to look.”

  “You worked with Ren?” I asked. At least now I knew how they came to be with these fae. Not all my questions were answered, but things were starting to fall into place. “I’m surprised.”

  He raised a shoulder. “I had to find my Ivy-Divy.”

  I smiled as the kitten stretched out his tiny legs. Tink leaving the house and pairing up with Ren was a big deal even if he didn’t say it. “Thank you,” I told him, drawing a shaky breath. My skin felt too raw as he lifted his gaze to mine. “Thank you for looking for me and—”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” Tink said. “It’s what friends do. And we’re the very best friends.”

  My smile returned.

  “And it’s what boyfriends do, right? I wouldn’t know. Don’t currently have a boyfriend or a girlfriend,” he added, and then rolled his eyes. “Ren wasn’t going to stop until he got you back.”

  Air caught in my throat. Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Oh God, pressure clamped down on my chest and my throat burned. It had nothing to do with Valor’s earlier death grip. “I don’t know if Ren is my . . . I think he was just doing his duty, Tink. He knew I couldn’t b
e left there.”

  Tink frowned. “I don’t think it’s just his duty. He wanted to storm that house from the moment Dane slash possibly Kalen told him he had someone on the inside. The Order hasn’t been involved in any of this.”

  I continued petting Dixon, liking how his little body rumbled like a tiny engine. There was no way that things were the same as before. No way.

  “As much as it hurts my soul to say this, and yes, I believe I have a soul full of glitter and rainbows, I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit,” he said, and if I wasn’t already sitting down, I would’ve fallen down. “I don’t know exactly what happened between you two or what came afterward for both of you, but he . . . he barely slept or ate during this time. He . . . he missed you, Ivy. He worried.”

  I watched Dixon’s paw twitch as he slept, thinking about what Tink was saying. I could think of a lot of reasons why Ren would have had problems eating or sleeping even if he didn’t remember exactly what had happened to him. And of course he would have worried. My womb was a ticking time bomb.

  “What happened to you?” Tink asked quietly.

  I met his gaze, words rising to the tip of my tongue. I could tell him, but I didn’t want to dump this on him. And I wasn’t sure what I could even say. My head was a mess of thoughts, and that darkness in me was everywhere, infiltrating my every cell. I felt cold. “A lot,” I said.

  “You aren’t . . .” He lowered his chin, and I knew what he was going to say. I wasn’t the same. I wasn’t. “I know . . . how the fae can be. I know they can be cruel.” His eyes closed, and I tensed. “I know what they are capable of, but I know . . . I know you are strong. You will be okay.”

  The breath I took got stuck in my throat, and I suddenly wanted to climb out of my skin and become someone else. But that wasn’t possible. Even if I could have, I never got the chance. A knock on the door woke Dixon, and Tink rose, walking to answer it.

  I held my breath, hoping that it was who I thought it was but praying that it wasn’t at the same time. But it was. It was Ren. He looked like he’d showered and changed. The gray Henley he wore hugged the lean lines of his body, and the sweats hung low on his hips. He was barefoot.

  Ren’s gaze swung right to the bed. He stopped just inside the door, not moving, and he didn’t look away.

  “I’m sleepy,” Tink announced suddenly. He rose before I could say a word, then scooped up the sleeping kitten. He leaned over, kissing my cheek. “See you in the morning.”

  Tink was surprisingly quiet as he exited the room, not saying anything to Ren as he closed the door behind him. There was no doubt in my mind that he was a bit worried about my mental state, not that I could blame him.

  I was a bit worried myself.

  Sitting up against the stack of pillows, I clenched the comforter as Ren approached the bed, his steps slowing.

  He sat down on the edge, and those eyes, so green and so warm, so human, met mine. I had to ask myself once again how I could have ever mistaken the prince for him. The eyes had been the same color, but that was it. When I’d seen him in that horrible place, his face had been battered. Now, there was no sign of those bruises or cuts, but he was haunted. I saw it in his eyes.

  It struck me then that this was the first time Ren and I were together, both of us in a stable and safe environment, no one tied up or chained, since I’d told him I loved him and that I was the halfling.

  So many things had happened since then.

  Too many things.

  And neither of us was the same.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ren exhaled slowly as his gaze roamed over my face. I had no idea what I looked like, and it was only then that I realized I was still in the robe that was now covered with tiny, gray cat hairs. My jaw ached, and I knew it was probably bruised, and my hair was a wet, curly mess.

  “Your eye,” he said quietly. I didn’t get what he was saying at first. “It looks like a vessel burst in your left eye.”

  “Oh.” I blinked, having no idea that had happened. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  He tilted his head to the side and then his gaze flicked to my neck. “I should’ve gotten there sooner. There was a damn accident on US 11, and it slowed us down.”

  “It’s not your fault.” I crossed my arms, staring at the paisley design on the bedspread. “And you did get there in time. You stopped him.”

  “It’s my fault.”

  My gaze lifted, and I found him staring at me. “What?” I said.

  “All of this.” He gestured with his arm. “It’s my fault. I handled things wrong. I got caught up in my head and wasn’t paying attention. Walked right into a damn trap. And because of me, that bastard was able to get his hands on you.”

  The tightening around my chest increased. I couldn’t believe he was blaming himself. “Ren, you can’t hold yourself responsible for any of this.”

  “Yeah, I can. I left you that night when you told me what you were. My head was fucked up. I should’ve known better than to go after the fae when I did. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind, and I got myself captured.”

  I looked away, drawing in a shallow breath. “Then isn’t it really my fault? I blindsided you, and I didn’t even tell you about the prince. I . . . I kept that from you. If I had warned you about him being around, you would have been better prepared.”

  “I didn’t give you a chance to tell me about him,” he said, and paused. “I wish you hadn’t waited to tell me. I get why you did—why you felt you couldn’t. I’m a member of the Elite—was a member, anyway.”

  “Was?” I whispered.

  “Not officially an ex member, but I’ve been MIA for weeks. That’s not going to go over well with those in charge.”

  “No,” I agreed. He was right. “Doubt it’s going to go over well for either of us.”

  Ren turned his body toward me. Our gazes met for a moment, and then I focused my eyes on the bedspread again. Deep inside, my chest ached as if it had been cracked wide open. A moment passed. “I really don’t care about any of that right now,” he said. “Maybe that’s the wrong thing to be thinking, but I don’t give two fucks about the Order. I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about us.”

  My heart turned over. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this conversation, because I knew what was coming. I bent my knees, tugging the edges of the robe over them. “I’m kind of sleepy. I mean, it’s been a really long night and I just want—”

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice so soft that I had to look at him, and I lost the ability to look away. “Don’t shut me out, Ivy. I know I deserve it if you do, but please don’t.”

  “You deserve it?” My voice cracked. What in the world was he talking about? I didn’t get it. How could he really think all of this was his fault? Words tumbled out in a rush. “He pretended to be you.”

  Ren drew back, his shoulders stiffening.

  “Did you know that?” I asked, but went on before he could answer. “After you left Monday night, no one knew where you were Tuesday. Then you—or I thought it was you—showed up on Wednesday, and you said it didn’t matter what I was. That you still wanted to be with me, and I was . . . I was just so desperate to believe that, that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. He pretended to be you—looked like you, sort of sounded like you, but he wasn’t you. I should’ve realized immediately that it wasn’t you, but I didn’t until later that day. I should’ve known immediately.”

  “I know he pretended to be me,” Ren stated. “Or at least that was what I was told the first day at that damn house. He told me what he was going to do. I remember him feeding on me, and then he fucking turned into me. I tried to get out of there, but fuck, I was chained to the goddamn wall.”

  My stomach clenched. “How much of your time there do you remember?”

  His chest rose with a deep breath. “Not a whole lot after the first day, but enough to have a to-kill list a mile long.”

  “Do you . . . do you remember a Breena?”
I asked, and then winced, because maybe I shouldn’t have asked about her.

  His eyes narrowed. “She’s number two on my to-kill list. The prince is number one. She was a fucking parasite who had serious boundary issues.”

  I flinched, knowing what he meant. I wanted to ask him if what Breena claimed was true, if they did things—if she did things to him—but the words died on my tongue. I could be honest with myself. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally ready to hear all of that. So all I said was, “I gouged her eyes out. Well, I tried.”

  One side of his mouth curled up. “You did?”

  I nodded. “I really did not like her.”

  His grin faded as he studied me. Maybe he knew why I’d done it. “What did you—?” He stopped himself with a shake of his head. “You’re being too hard on yourself. That bastard didn’t even make it a day pretending to be me.”

  “I should have known.”

  Grief settled into the striking lines of his face. “Ivy—”