And that’s not even counting the fact that she has it shadowed and hidden on purpose.
Jim doesn’t argue with my refusal. Considering I’ve gotten on the wrong bus before and ended up in an entirely different part of downtown than I meant to, making him leave his dad’s garage to come rescue me, he accepts my answer easily. Doesn’t stop me from wishing I could tell him otherwise.
I expect Rys to point out that we don’t have time to make a pitstop anyway. I’m the one who was all aboard the “let’s get this over with as soon as possible” train, so going out of our way and—most likely—getting terribly lost in the process isn’t the world’s best idea.
Which is why I’m surprised when Rys speaks up.
He edges near, closing the small gap he’s purposely kept between the rest of us. “If it pleases you, I could lead us to your friend.”
He can? Really? “What?” My forehead wrinkles in confusion—or maybe it’s skepticism. It’s… it’s probably skepticism. “How? Have you been there before?”
He hesitates for a moment before shaking his head.
Hm. Being skeptical was a good call, huh?
Something about his hesitation warns me against pushing the subject. I should just be glad that Rys can do it. What’s the point in asking why?
Too bad that doesn’t stop me.
“Then how do you know where to go to find Morgan’s cottage?”
“I wouldn’t be looking for her cottage.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I think I understand,” Riley cuts in. “It’s a fae thing. If he touched you, he can find you anywhere. If the trail is recent enough, he could pick up on it. I mean, I can’t, but, like I said, I’m only half. Nine can do it. Rys probably can, too. Right?”
Because it’s Riley asking him a direct question and not me, Rys answers in that strangely, bravado-filled way that I’m not quite used to yet. He even offers a mocking bow that has me frowning. “Right you are, Shadow. Since Elle has visited her friend a few times, I should be able to follow her trace.”
You know, I think I get it now. How could I forget? It’s just like how Rys figured out where I lived with Jim in the city, and how he managed to send Saxon to our apartment to snag him. Ever since he first touched me, he’s left his trace on my skin—his brand—and, because of that, he can follow me anywhere even after it faded some.
I’m so excited at the idea of seeing Morgan again that I’m not even thinking as I blurt out, “That’s right! Since you’ve touched me, you can follow your brand anywhere. You can show us how I used to get to Morgan’s cottage!”
The good feeling lasts for, oh, five seconds? Because, about six seconds after I say that out loud, I hear Jim’s confused, “He… touched you?,” and I immediately regret saying anything at all.
My hand flies up, covering my mouth, but it’s too little too late.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I say that?
Jim faces me. “You told me not to let any of the fae touch me. You made me promise. And you let him touch you?”
Jim says “touch”. I understand it as “fuck”.
And… both of them are pretty accurate.
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“Did he force you?”
Rys draws in a breath. Before he can say anything, I cut in with a quick, “No. I gave him permission.”
I can just about see the cogs turning inside of Jim’s skull. All of this time since he’s been in Faerie—since he’s been watching how notably strained things are between me and Rys—and, oblivious as ever, he never once suspected a thing. Probably because I did everything I could to keep him from guessing. I didn’t want to hurt him.
He looks pretty hurt right now.
“You? And… and him? Tell me you’re kidding. Tell me what I’m thinking right now is wrong.”
I wish I could.
7
Why is this happening? Why did I ever think it wouldn’t happen?
“Jim, it’s not what you think—”
Rys shifts his weight, moving a few steps away from me. From beneath the hood of his cloak, I can feel the heat of his unblinking stare as he murmurs, “Isn’t it?”
The fact that we’re standing in a triangle, Jim to my right and Rys to my left, with my standing point… it’s not lost on me. Neither is Rys’s barely whispered comment. Seriously? How is that supposed to help me right now?
Simple. I don’t think it’s supposed to.
Maybe that’s my fault. I know damn well that Rys didn’t want Jim tagging along on this trip—he didn’t want me here, either, can’t forget that—and if I thought being stuck in the middle was bad, it must be hell for Rys. Every time he looks at me and Jim, he sees what he gave up and his choice to throw my old boyfriend at me. Now that Jim’s here, he’s stuck with him. Thanks to Oberon insisting that we all go together, he’s stuck with me, too.
But Jim… I’ve spent the last week trying to figure out what I was supposed to do now that he’s here. It’s definitely my fault for wimping out; telling Jim that I’ve been through a lot, that I needed my space was one thing. Did I end things? Not really. Did I mention that I fell for my scarred Seelie since I’ve been trapped in Faerie?
That’s a big, honking nope.
Jim trusted me. I never gave him a reason not to before, and I’m going to have to tell him the truth sooner or later before my silence leads him on any further. Just because Rys thought he was giving me a gift by bringing Jim into Faerie, that doesn’t change things. Not really. While I love Jim and probably always will, I haven’t been in love with him for much longer than I care to admit. I’ve been fooling myself for a while, and it would be cruel to let him go on believing that I still want to be with him.
Does that mean that this is the right time for this conversation? Probably not.
I glance from Rys to Jim again. Both guys are watching me closely, waiting for me to answer Rys’s whisper. I can’t pretend to have missed it. The Shadow Realm is so eerily quiet, every sound carries. Even now I can pick up Jim’s strained and heavy breathing and my nervous boot tap-tap-tapping against the packed dirt.
Whoops. I stop that.
Jim crosses his arms over his chest, almost as if he’s holding himself together.
Rys is silent. Still. No sign of the charming, flirty Seelie that likes to needle Riley and Nine. Nope. I feel like I’m back in Siúcra again, facing off against my guarded cellmate.
I have this crazy urge to grab him. To… to shake him. And not because I still haven’t kicked my addiction to his touch. I want to ask him what’s his deal, what’s he playing at? He made it perfectly clear that, no matter what existed between us before, he wants me to go back to Jim. But not really, huh? Because, if he really meant it, he wouldn’t be watching me as if everything depended on me admitting that, yes, there really is a “him and me”.
I can’t do this. At least, not right this second.
I shake my head. “This isn’t the time.” No shit. “We’re here to bring a message to the Winter Queen, whoever that is. We need to be focusing on that. Not… not anything else.” I try to put as much meaning into my words as I can. “Especially not the past.”
“The past,” murmurs Rys. “In a place where time flows differently than you expect, what past are you referring to?”
“All of it,” I say firmly.
Rys doesn’t have an answer for that one.
Jim’s gaze slants toward Rys, a frown tugging on his lips. Wonderful. If he didn’t already guess that there was more to my relationship with Rys than I initially let on, Rys’s cryptic comments and my short reply will only make him more suspicious.
And, honestly, I have no one to blame but myself.
Jim’s frown slips into a scowl as the quiet drags on. “You know, you don’t have to protect me, babe. I’ve been doing just fine.”
If only that’s what I was doing. Fate or no fate, whether I was meant to be with Rys or not, that doesn’t change the f
act that all I’ve been doing is covering my own ass. A lie by omission is still a freaking lie, and I’m fucking awful.
“Jim, I know that. It’s just—”
He cuts me off. “I know you’re in some kind of trouble. You already told me that you think you’re stuck here. That’s fine. I’m with you now. We can go somewhere else together. Go visit your friend on our own, maybe see if she knows something about the queen we’re looking for. You don’t have to stay with him.”
Hang on—
Him, I notice. Not them.
Uh-oh.
A sinking suspicion fills my gut; either that, or I’m just looking for an excuse to look away from his earnest expression. Shifting slightly, I dare a glance behind me.
Riley and Nine are notably missing.
Honestly, I don’t blame the mated couple one bit. They probably slipped away to give us some privacy as soon as the subject of the touch came up.
I wish I could do the same.
“She has to stay with me,” Rys tells Jim, dragging my attention back to them. “The Summer King commanded it.”
“The Summer King can kiss my ass,” retorts Jim. I wince. He probably should be more careful cursing Oberon. The king of the Seelie Court might tolerate humans more than most fae, but he’s still a capricious and dangerous fae ruler. “He’s your king. Not mine. Not ours. Right, Hel?”
Oof. Another wince. I might be able to pass “Hel” off as “Elle”, but what if Jim gets worked up enough to forget his promise? My true name is the only thing I have left—the only thing that’s completely mine—and I can’t bear to lose it. Especially since—despite Jim’s assurance that we’ll figure out how to leave together—I know that I’m never leaving Faerie again.
That’s the truth of it. Regardless of what I want or Jim wants or even Rys, the magic in this place has made it so. Between my sacrifice and the way I’m a slave to the faerie fruit, this is my home now—which makes it even more crucial that I don’t let a squabble between these two land me at the mercy of the Summer King.
I shake my head. “I can’t… I can’t do that.”
“You can. I know you can.”
Rys let out a scoffing sound.
Jim glares over at him. “You stay out of this.”
“I tried. I really did. Now I’ve decided that… hmm. I just don’t care to continue trying.”
I blink. What’s that supposed to mean?
“Well, good thing I don’t give a crap what you think. This is between my girl and me.”
“Your girl?” echoes Rys. “She’s meant to be my ffrindau.”
I flinch this time. I don’t know what’s worse: the way Rys says “meant to be” like that when we both know that he gave up his chance at claiming his soul mate, or how much it twists my stomach to wish that I could still be his ffrindau.
It twists even more when Jim shrugs off Rys’s words. “I don’t know what that is, but it doesn’t matter. I’m glad you watched out for her while she was lost. Thanks—”
Rys jerks. “Don’t thank me.”
“—but I think I’ve got a handle on it now,” Jim adds, continuing as if he didn’t even notice Rys’s interruption—or reaction. “You said you could follow your… your touch to find Hel’s friend. You don’t need her anymore.” He turns to look at me again. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Anywhere else.”
What?
Okay. I’m nervous and I’m guilty, but I’m also starting to get a little annoyed that he’s just not understanding me when I at least did try to impress upon him how important this mission is. “Jim, stop it. You don’t really get what’s going on. Let me—”
“Later. I want to go. Come with me. Now, Hel.”
I dig in my heels. If he thinks I’m just going to come trotting after him like some kind of puppy, he’s got another think coming. I don’t care who it is. Veron. Rys. Jim. If there’s one thing I learned since I’ve been in Faerie it’s that I refuse to be someone’s pet.
And it’s not just being in Faerie. For a second, I feel like I’m back at our apartment. How many times did we have a scene just like this? With Jim leaning up against the doorway to our bedroom, me scowling and pacing and wondering why just this freaking once won’t he listen to me?
Too, too many.
This, I tell myself. This is precisely why there’s no going back. I might not be able to be with Rys the way I want to, but this is why I can’t just be Jim’s girlfriend again. I’ve grown over the last two and a half months and I’m not going to take being dismissed like this because he’s sure he knows best. And, okay, maybe it’s because he honestly believes that he’s looking out for me. I get that. For more than a decade, Jim’s always been there.
It was only once he wasn’t that I finally started to understand who Helen Andrews really was. And she’s not about to let any man tell her what she’s going to do, whether he’s human or fae.
“No.”
“Hel.”
“I said no, Jim. I’m finishing what I said I would do. I gave my word. I told you this. It’s not just about us. Stopping a war between the Summer and Winter Courts means saving any other humans who cross over from the Iron. I’m doing this.”
“Is it because of him?” Jim asks quietly.
We all know who the “him” is that he’s asking about.
I can’t answer that. Either it would be a lie or it wouldn’t be fair to Jim. He insisted on coming on this trip with us and, now that we’ve crossed into the Shadow Realm, it’s not like we can separate. It would be suicide, and no matter how conflicted I’m feeling at this moment, I know that I can’t let anything happen to Jim. If I broke down and told him the truth about everything, he’d leave. It’s backward and I’m totally trying to justify my deceptions, but I’m actually trying to protect him for once.
So, instead of answering him, I just say, “I can’t do this right now.”
I’m an idiot. I’ve forgotten that a relationship goes two ways: I’ve been with Jim since I was sixteen, but he’s been with me just as long. He knows me better than I know myself. Even if he’s just as responsible for the wall that’s been built up between us these last few years, that doesn’t mean he can’t see through my bullshit.
In the dark of the Shadow Realms, he’s finally seeing everything I’ve been struggling to hide since his unexpected arrival.
He points at me. “Choose.”
“What did you say?”
“Him or me. Choose.”
Choose.
The word echoes in my mind, triggering a memory that I immediately push back against.
Choose.
I start to stutter. Can’t help it. The suffocating feeling of déjà vu is crashing over me, the experience that this exact scene has played out in the same way before, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. How can Jim expect me to choose? No matter how I try to deny it, I’m still drawn to Rys. The idea of walking away from him has me ready to hyperventilate.
But Jim… if it wasn’t for me, he’d still be safe in the city. He wouldn’t know anything about Faerie or the fae, and he’d be down at the garage, happy and content and… and Jim. He came after me, though, following Saxon into a whole other world based only on the Seelie’s promise that I needed him.
And now he needs me.
I can’t let him go. I barely managed to survive my time in Faerie. Especially now that it’s open season on humans, he could be a sitting duck for the first faerie folk that stumble upon him. Only the protection provided by Nine, Rys, and Riley’s shadowy cloak will keep him untouchable.
I have to make him understand.
Before I gather my thoughts together and can make enough sense of them to explain, Rys calls out to me.
“Leannán.”
And, oh boy, Jim does not like that.
“That’s not her name,” he snaps. “It’s—”
No!
“Jim.”
He clenches his jaw, his da
rk eyes locked on me as he goes silent, cutting off my name.
Exhaling roughly, I look past him. Sudden fear that he was going to reveal my true name has cut through the swirl of worries and concerns in my thoughts. Now? I can’t even look at him. I’ve seen that expression before. The hurt, the confusion, and the mild defeat that flares up on the rare times that I raised my voice with him. It wasn’t often. A born people-pleaser who hates confrontation, I’d rather walk away from a fight than push for one. Sure, it’s not healthy, but it’s my defense mechanism. I can’t skip out on Jim—not like I did the morning I disappeared into Faerie—but I can’t face him.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m a coward.
I know that both Rys and Jim are watching me closely. I look for any excuse to avoid their stares—and, to my surprise, I find one.
The shadows surrounding us have thickened while we’ve been standing out in the open. You’d think that wasn’t possible, considering how dark it is in these woods, but there’s a difference between “dark” and “black”. The shadows are dark, but there’s a pitch-black patch swooping in toward us, rolling over the ground like a dirty oil slick.
What the—
Caw!
My head bobs up at the screeching caw that splits the air. A black spot against the deep purple sky, starting out small and getting bigger as the raven comes soaring toward us.
No. Not us.
The shadows.
At the sound of the raven’s cry, the strange shadows react. They rear up, twisting and stretching as they turn into a… a cyclone. Tornado?
Something like that.
Whatever it is, it goes from deadly silent to almost deafening in a heartbeat, the whistling of the air being drawn into the darkness almost as piercing as the caw.
Over it, I hear Rys saying something in the lilting language of the fae. Though he’s been careful to ration his Seelie magic since we’ve been in the Shadow Realm, I guess facing off against a shadow storm counts as an emergency. A flicker of faerie fire peeks out from beneath his cloak.
Freed: A Supernatural Prison Romance (Imprisoned by the Fae Book 3) Page 7