“What I asked you earlier about . . . about communities of fae that might not be . . . bad? Were you telling the truth then?” I asked.
“Yes.” He nodded for extra emphasis. It was hard holding his stare right now, because Tink was . . . he was hot and that just made me feel kind of gross. I had never thought of him that way before. It never once had crossed my mind. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. They may be out there, but I honestly don’t know. And I really haven’t left here,” he said, his brows knitted together. “It was overwhelming when I came through the gate. Everything was so loud and . . . and yeah, I haven’t gone back out.”
Was Tink actually afraid of going out into the world? That could explain his obsession with Amazon. I’d always thought it was because, well, he was tiny and it was kind of hard to blend in when you were only a foot or so tall and had wings. Obviously, he could’ve switched into this form at any time when I wasn’t around and left this apartment to party it up on Bourbon Street.
“You’ve really haven’t gotten back out there?” I asked.
Tink shook his head. “I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t taken this form since I came to this side.” He glanced down at himself. “It’s weird. Being this size, that is.” Drawing in a deep breath, he lifted his gaze to mine and said, “It’s easier being smaller here. There’s none of my kind. No one. It’s just easier for me.”
I suddenly felt pretty bad for Tink, and I didn’t want to, because he’d lied to me so many times. Harboring anger was easier than forgiveness and understanding. He had valid reasons for his lies, but they still stung. I set the dustpan on the coffee table.
“Are you still mad?” Tink ventured closer to the couch. “I can stop ordering from Amazon. Okay, well, I can cut back on ordering from Amazon. Like maybe down to three orders a—”
“You don’t need to stop ordering from Amazon.” I clutched the broom as my gaze drifted to the door.
Ren was stopping at the Walmart about ten minutes down the road to pick up a new lock. It was going to be a long night, and even with the lock changed, how safe was it to be here now?
“We never had to worry about the fae searching us out before,” I said. “This . . . I don’t even know what to think of this.”
Tink said nothing, because what could be said?
Ren and I were going to have to talk to David about what had happened. There was no way around that. This was too important, too dangerous.
I thought about the prince and how the knight had behaved. My fingers trembled around the broom, so I propped it against the couch. “I saw the prince earlier.”
“What?” Tink’s response was sharp and high.
I repeated myself. “I saw him when I left here. I went to get beignets and he walked up behind me.”
“And you just now say something?” Tink vaulted over the couch. Like, jumped up and cleared the back and landed, standing on the center cushion.
I gaped at him. “How in the world did your towel stay on for that when I can’t even get one to stay wrapped around me when I get out of the shower?”
“Magic,” he replied. “Seriously. What the hell, Ivy? What happened?”
“If you get off the couch, I’ll tell you.”
Tink pouted, but stepped off the couch. He sat down, folding his hands in his lap all proper like. “Waiting.”
I sat down on the edge of the coffee table—not the same part his man-parts had been all up on. I told him everything, finishing with the part about the prince just walking off, ambling down the street. “He didn’t try to take me or anything. He—”
“He was wooing you. Like I said.” Tink reached across the space and tapped the tip of my nose. And that was just weird as all hell now. I drew back, shooting him a look of warning. He ignored it. “Or he could just be trying to understand you so he can figure out what his next step is.”
“I think we know what his next step is,” I said, folding my arms loosely in my lap. “The prince knows about Ren, and the knight had no intention of fighting me. He kept pushing me out of the way. Didn’t even bruise me. He was, like Ren said, completely focused on him. I think he was here . . .” Biting down on my lip, I couldn’t finish that thought.
Understanding flared in Tink’s gaze. “The knight was sent here to kill Ren. To take out the competition.”
Chapter Eleven
As expected, the night was long. Ren was quiet as he set about replacing the lock, and I didn’t ask him what he’d done with the knight’s body. I was just grateful that his truck was here and he hadn’t had to attempt hauling a body around in the back of a Ducati. It was near four in the morning when we retired to the bedroom, locking the door behind us.
And we really didn’t talk then either other than me asking if he was okay and vice versa. Then he circled an arm around my waist, tugged me to his chest, and shoved his leg between mine.
It was hard to fall asleep knowing that a knight had found me—found us—but the weariness that had settled into both our bodies allowed sleep to drag us under. We slept with an iron dagger under our pillows, and it wasn’t until late Monday morning that Ren and I untangled ourselves from one another and hit the shower. Sadly, the shower thing was separate. We both had gotten texts from David. There was a meeting this afternoon.
When I shuffled out to the bedroom while Ren was doing his thing, I saw that the fae blood had been cleaned from the floors, and then I was dealt a surprise when I entered the kitchen.
Tink had returned to, well, the Tink size I was used to, wings and all. He was sitting on the counter, eating the cereal he’d dumped next to him while watching an episode of Supernatural on my laptop.
“You know what I was thinking?” he said as I went to the cabinet and grabbed the coffee. “I never thought I could pick between Sam, Dean, Castiel, or Crowley, but I think I can.”
“Uh-huh?” I murmured, dumping about ten scoops of coffee into the maker.
“Yeah. I would have to go with Crowley.”
I closed the lid and blinked. That was unexpected. Turning the coffee pot on, I turned around and leaned against the counter. “You picked the king of hell?”
He nodded his little chin, and seeing him this small again wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be. “I have my reasons. One of them is that he has a great English accent.”
I raised a brow as I turned to grab a mug, loading it with coffee and sugar.
“And I like his boy crush on Dean,” Tink continued. “Who wouldn’t have a crush on Dean? If you didn’t, I couldn’t believe that you were real.”
“Uh-huh,” I repeated, taking a sip. I was not nearly awake enough to process this conversation.
Tink pointed at the screen. “Just look at those baby blue eyes. That grin of his is what heaven looks like.”
I left the conversation at that point, switching places with Ren. I hoped he didn’t kill Tink while I showered and got ready. I was pleased to see that I had to use less concealer around my eye and jaw today.
When I came out of the bathroom, I found Ren sitting on my bed, suited up for work, my coffee cup dangling from his fingertips—my obviously empty coffee cup.
His grin was sheepish. “Sorry. I went out to the kitchen, lasted about five seconds and then came back in here. Saw your coffee. It was too sweet to pass up.”
“Did Tink try to talk to you about someone named Crowley?”
“Yes.” He leaned over and placed the cup on the nightstand. “I have no idea what he’s talking about, and I don’t want to know.”
I walked over to him, smiling when he put his hands on my hips and tugged me between his legs. Ren’s gaze slid up the tank top I wore. “Glad we had some time together last night before the shit hit the fan.”
“Me too.” I warmed as I clearly remembered the time we had carved out for ourselves. Our eyes met. “What do you think about Tink?” I asked.
“I’m going to be real honest with you,” he said, squeezing my hips. “The fact that the asshole isn
’t the size of my boot bothers me. I don’t care that he’s back to that size, eating cereal on your counter like a damn pet rat.”
My brows lifted.
“I’m not saying you should kick him out. I’m not asking that, even though I would one hundred percent support that decision,” he continued with a wry grin. “Just letting you know that I’m not too fond of the whole thing.”
“Duly noted.” I bent over and kissed him, loving the way his lips curved into a smile under mine. We had to head to the Order soon, and we only had a couple of minutes, so I kissed him again and spent the short time making out with him.
It turned out that wasn’t exactly the brightest idea, because I wanted more minutes than we had, and based on what I felt under me, so did Ren.
He made this deep growly sound that had me wiggling in his lap as his lips coasted up my cheek, toward my ear. “Tonight, when we get done working, it’s going to be all you and me, and I don’t care what kind of shit we’ve got to deal with or think about or plan for. As soon as we’re done, I’m going to get you naked.”
My fingers dug into his shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”
“I bet you do, but I’m not done.” His tongue flicked over the lobe of my ear a second before his teeth caught the fleshy part, eliciting a sharp gasp from me. “After I get you naked, I’m going to spend some one-on-one time with various parts of your body, and then I’m going to get you under me, then on me again, because that was fucking hot, and then in front of me. I’m going to fuck you. Hard.”
“Oh God,” I moaned, my hands flexing on his shoulders. I liked that. A lot.
He kissed me on my neck. “Got a really bad pick-up line for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. Heard it not too long ago and I’ve been saving it for just the right moment.”
I grinned. “Waiting.”
“You’re a work of art.” He paused. “I’d like to nail you to the wall.”
“Oh my God.” I laughed loudly. “That is so terrible. Holy crap.”
Ren chuckled. “I know. Now get off me so the hard-on of the century goes away.”
I laughed again and then rose from his lap, but I didn’t go too easy on him. Reaching down, I found that hard-on of the century and squeezed him. His harsh groan echoed in the room.
“You hussy,” he muttered.
Grinning, I let go and backed away. “Whatever.”
Ren closed his eyes and appeared to count under his breath. “It’s not really warm outside. Heads up,” he said.
“Thanks for the weather update.” I turned to the closet and grabbed a black thermal, pulling it on. Then I grabbed my weapons and secured the thorn stake to my calf, hidden under the leg of my pants.
Ren was walking a little stiffly as we left the bedroom, and when he stopped at the door, his eyes narrowed on my smile.
“Be right back,” I told him, then walked into the kitchen. Tink was nowhere to be found, and my laptop was missing. Cereal crumbs remained on the counter. Some things never changed. I rapped my knuckles on his door. “Tink?”
“Yo,” he yelled back, and it sounded like normal Tink, not full-sized Tink.
“We’re heading to work,” I told him, shifting my weight from one foot to the next. “I just wanted—”
The door suddenly opened, and Tink appeared, his wings moving lazily. “You’re letting me know? That’s different. Typically you just leave without saying anything.”
I frowned at him as I noticed he was wearing a pair of doll gym shorts, and they were tiny, like disco-dancing tiny. And they were satiny and silver. Wow. “I’ve told you—”
“You’re worried about me because of what happened with the knight. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” Floating forward, he flicked the tip of my nose. “Be careful, and tell Ren he is more than welcome to stay at his own place tonight.” Then he closed the door in my face.
I was so not telling Ren that.
“Everything okay?” he asked when I joined him.
“Yeah, I was just checking on Tink.” I paused as I grabbed my bag and draped the strap over my shoulder. “I’ll admit,” I said in a low voice, “I’m a little worried about leaving him here. He doesn’t have the thorn stake like last time.”
Ren opened his mouth, seemed to think carefully about what he was going to say, and then closed it. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
“Uh huh.”
He smiled crookedly and opened the door. We headed down the staircase and out across the courtyard. It was chilly outside, cooler than normal, but I wasn’t complaining. Not too long ago I was wishing for a polar vortex to make New Orleans its bitch, but it was unseasonable for this time of year.
The drive into the Quarter wasn’t too bad as it was a pretty decent time in the afternoon. I swore I saw someone in a T-Rex costume mowing grass, though.
Somehow, by some kind of magical happening, Ren nabbed a parking spot in the garage the Order used, which was closer than usual since there was no parking on Phillips. Typically there weren’t spots available, because locals had figured out you could park there without having to give your keys and car over to someone, but Ren was obviously super special.
“You ready to have this talk with David after the meeting?” Ren asked as we started toward headquarters. “We’re going to be dumping some crap on him.”
That was the understatement of the decade. On the way into the Quarter, we’d decided to hold off on mentioning the unproven community of good fae. We would talk to Jerome first, get a read on him, and see what we could get out of him before going to David.
“He’s not going to be happy that we didn’t call him last night, but at least we can butter him up with the good news of one of the knights being gone.”
“That won’t go a long way.”
I nodded and scanned the streets. Ren did the same. He was looking for fae, but I was keeping an eye out for the prince. So far, we weren’t seeing anything other than a whole lot of tourists underdressed for the cold snap. A block from the headquarters, he reached over and tugged on a curl of mine. I looked at him.
He winked. “I just can’t stop myself from playing with them.”
I knocked his hand away and shook my head. “Save that for later.”
“I don’t know about that.” He reached over, sliding a hand down my back. “Gonna be playing with other things then.”
Oh dear.
The building came into view, and I shook it off while Ren chuckled. One of the newer recruits stood guard outside. Mama Lousy was still closed, which meant we were most likely going to have to visit Jerome at his place. It was probably better that way since the gift shop was wired with video.
I smiled at the new guy, and he nodded in my direction.
“Hey Glenn, what’s going on?” Ren asked as he opened the door.
“Nothing much,” he replied. Glenn was tall and dark-skinned, his head bald and smooth. Sunglasses shielded his eyes and he gave off a great “don’t screw with me” vibe. “Got some new people upstairs.”
“Not surprised about that,” Ren said as I headed into the stairwell.
“Yeah, but these guys are different.”
I exchanged a look with Ren, and he shrugged. As we reached the door, it opened for us. Rachel Adams was on the other side. The tall and slender Order member was in her early thirties. I didn’t know her well, and like most members, she kept to herself. Beyond her, I could tell that the room was pretty full.
“Glad to see you’re back up and moving around,” she said, stepping aside.
“Thanks. Glad to see you’re not dead.” My eyes widened as I realized how that sounded. “I meant that you didn’t die in the battle, not that I’m glad anyone else died, but yeah . . .”
She stared at me and arched a brow.
“Nice,” Ren murmured under his breath, and I casually jabbed my elbow out, catching him in the side. He grinned, and the dimple on his left cheek began to appear. I was thinking about hitting
him again when David suddenly appeared in front of us.
I hadn’t seen David since I left the hospital, and for a man who usually seemed so ageless, he didn’t right now. The salt and pepper sprinkled at his temples had expanded up the sides of his head. Deeper wrinkles had formed at the corners of his dark skin, around his eyes. He looked tired.
And pissed.
But he always kind of looked pissed.
David nodded at Ren and then looked down at me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Good to see you finally walking back through that door.”
I blinked once, twice, and then murmured, “Ditto.”
He stepped back, and I felt like I could’ve fallen over, because that was actually nice coming from David, from the man I always felt like I was letting down and who never really seemed to be overly happy with anything I did or said.
I almost wanted to do a little jig.
I looked around the room but didn’t see Miles. Feeling antsy, I glanced over at Ren. That’s when I noticed Ren’s grin starting to fade. Two men I’d never seen before had joined David. One was tall, had dark hair, and was probably in his mid to late forties. The other was shorter with pale, pale skin, and had red hair brighter than mine, and that was saying something. Ren stiffened as the dark-haired man approached him.
“Ren,” the man said, extending a hand. “It’s been a while. Good to see you’re doing well.”
“Likewise.” Ren shook the man’s hand, but there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in his voice. “What are you doing here, Kyle?”
My eyes widened. Kyle? That Kyle? The one who killed Ren’s best friend because he turned out to be a halfling? Holy shitballs.
“Here because we’re needed.” Kyle turned to me. He extended his hand in my direction. “You must be Ivy. David was telling me about you.”
“Nice to meet you,” I lied—lied straight through my teeth as I shook his hand.
“Same to you.” His gaze flickered over my face. “Fought the prince of the Otherworld and lived to tell the story. Amazing.”
Torn (A Wicked Trilogy Book 2) Page 10