Wicked

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Wicked Page 11

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  "That you do." He pushed off the wall, turning to me as he pulled his hands out of his pockets. "I like your hair like that."

  Tilting my head back, I frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

  "You have it pulled up." Reaching out, he caught the end of a stray curl along my temple. "It's cute, but when it's down? Fucking hot."

  "Um . . ." I snapped my mouth shut, and for a moment I stared at him. "Thanks?"

  He chuckled as he tugged on the curl until it was straight, and then let go, watching it bounce back into place. "I could play with it all day."

  I blinked slowly. "Wow. You don't get out much, do you?"

  Ren grinned. "So you have a game plan in mind for tonight?

  "Not really." I started walking down the already congested sidewalk.

  Not surprisingly, he caught right up and fell in step alongside me. "Why not?"

  Keeping an eye on the cluster of people at the corner of Bourbon, I stepped around a young woman with a bright green drink container. She was eyeing Ren like she'd rather be slurping him up through a straw. "Saturday nights are usually crazy. You can make all the plans you want and it's all going to go to hell in a matter of seconds."

  Ren didn't respond.

  I glanced at him quickly. His gaze was trained ahead also, but that grin had faded like a ghost. "You have a problem with that?"

  "Nope," he replied, surprising me. "But I think we might have a problem up ahead."

  The crowd had grown in the last couple of seconds. You saw a lot of strange things on Bourbon. People wore wings. Some people walked around in nothing but body paint and tiny shorts. Others dressed like vampires that crawled out of an Anne Rice novel. If you were naive enough to try and snap a picture of them, they expected you to pay. Then there were the tourists who couldn't handle all the decadent indulgence and passed out wherever they stood. There was also the sad, random violence that infested the city and had nothing to do with the fae—simply humans hurting other humans for no real reason. So as we neared the group of people, a mixture of tourists and locals, it really was anyone's guess.

  Stepping off the curb, I walked around a parked truck attempting to unload full kegs for a nearby bar. Ren followed me as I made my way onto a street so packed with people it was almost impossible for a car to make it down a block in a timely manner . . . or without clipping a few pedestrians.

  I edged around the horde of bystanders, aware of the strained laughter of some and the growing sense of unease that seemed to be hopping from one person to another. Something was most definitely going down at the corner of Bourbon and Phillip.

  Over the drifty jazz music spilling out from the bars, a shrill sound erupted from whatever the crowd was blocking from our view, sending chills down my spine. A cross between a shriek of pain and one of rage, it was an inhuman scream.

  "That's doesn't sound normal," murmured Ren, his hand closest to me moving to his side.

  Pushing through the crowd, I ignored the sharp looks directed at me. Ren was right beside me, clearing a much larger path. A guy in front of us stepped to the side, and I caught a glimpse of disheveled brown hair and a hunched over, broken form, and then the man was shaking his head as he turned.

  "Man, crack is a powerful drug," he muttered, scratching at the black beard along his chin. "Bitch done lost her—"

  The eerie howl drowned out whatever he was saying. All I saw was the brown hair, matted and greasy, charging forward. The thing leaped like a damn cat from several feet behind the man. It landed on his back, screaming that horrible sound as it wrapped scrawny, dirt-covered arms around his shoulders. The legs were the same, filthy and scuffed, poking out from a torn skirt. It was a female—a rabid female.

  And I had a sick suspicion she wasn't on drugs.

  The woman threw her head back and howled as the man grabbed her arms, staggering to the side. People scattered, giving them a wide berth as the man struggled to get the woman off his back. Someone shouted for the police.

  Heart pounding, I launched myself forward as Ren did the same. My stomach sunk when I realized there was no reaching them in time. The woman dived for the man's exposed neck, her mouth wide open.

  Shit.

  The man's pain-filled screams blasted us as her blunt teeth tore into the side of his neck. Other shouts joined in as the crowd realized what was happening. People started running in all directions, dispersing like dropped marbles. Deep crimson sprayed out from his neck as the man stumbled, falling onto one knee. He couldn't shake the woman, and she was still gnawing at him like some kind of freaking Resident Evil zombie.

  I reached them first.

  Grabbing a handful of tangled hair with one hand, I reached under her head with my other hand and gripped her jaw. I pressed with my fingers until she let go, then hauled her crazy ass back.

  Blood spurted once and then twice before pouring down the front of the man's shirt as he fell forward onto his side. Ren was right there, dropping to the ground beside the fallen man, placing his hands tightly over his torn neck. He didn't hesitate for a second, didn't even check to see if I could get the woman under control. He trusted that I would.

  "You're going to be okay, man. Just hang in there," Ren said, lifting his chin toward the shocked cluster of people. "Someone better be on the phone with 911."

  The woman was going nuts, arms flailing and fingers clawing at the air. Red smeared her mouth and her chin. She was a gory mess, and I knew the minute I let her go, she was going to come after me.

  I did just that.

  Releasing her nasty hair, I backed away as she spun on me. She let out another scream that hurt my ears before she lurched forward.

  I stepped into her attack, planting one hand on her shoulder as I cut her under the chin with the other, snapping her head back. She went down like a bag of rocks, alive but out cold.

  Sirens whirled in the distance as I drew in a ragged breath and checked out Ren. He still had his hands on the man's neck, but the poor guy was turning a ghastly shade under his dark skin, and the entire length of his shirt was covered in blood. He wasn't looking good.

  Suddenly Val was there, pushing through the crowd, her eyes flicking from Ren to me and then the woman sprawled on the street. "What in the hell?"

  "She took a bite out of that guy," I said, swallowing hard as Ren kept talking to the man who now appeared unresponsive.

  Val's teal green skirt billowed out around her as she kneeled next to the woman. "Good God," she said, reaching out and gripping the woman's shirt. The green and yellow bangles circling Val's arm jangled as she tugged the collar down. "Damn it."

  There it was, proof that this was no case of drug use gone really bad.

  Across the woman's chest, the veins leading to her heart looked as if they were infused with black ink. When a fae fed off a human for an extended period of time, it poisoned their blood and polluted their mind.

  And apparently made them want to bite people.

  Val let go of her shirt. "Such a waste."

  The woman was past the point of no return. Once the veins turned, that was it. There was no coming back from it. She would die, probably by tonight or tomorrow, and those darkened veins would fade quickly afterwards, leaving no oddities on the body. Toxicology reports would show no drugs, and death would usually be ruled as some sort of heart failure.

  "Shit." Ren's golden skin was a shade lighter as he leaned back, withdrawing his hands. My gaze moved to the man. His chest was still and his eyes wide and unseeing. Heaviness surrounded my heart. He was gone.

  Ren's shoulders rose as he looked over and our eyes met. Shadows crept into them, dulling the green hue. Rising fluidly, he turned and walked toward those standing near the curb. People parted and he disappeared behind them.

  I started toward him then stopped, turning back to Val. "You didn't go on your date," I said.

  She raised her chin and a weak smile formed. "Couldn't find anyone else to cover, but there's always later tonight." She glanced in the direction Ren
had gone. "You need to track down the new hottie?"

  "Yeah," I said, stepping around the prone woman. "You got this?"

  Val nodded. "Don't forget, we need to talk."

  "I haven't." Wiggling my fingers, I went after Ren, aware of the curious looks. It was a good thing to disappear before the police showed because of all the questions. Val would do the same once they had the woman secured. It worried me that she would be in police custody, dangerous until her body gave out, but there was nothing I could do once they carted her away unless I put the woman out of her misery.

  And I couldn't do that—some could, but not me.

  David once told me that it was a weakness, one that I needed to work on overcoming. He hadn't been a total jerk about it, just matter of fact.

  Over the top of the crowd moving both ways on the uneven sidewalk, I saw Ren's coffee colored waves, and then he appeared to vanish. What the hell? I picked up my pace, breaking into a jog. I passed a bar then saw him.

  He was in a narrow alley, kneeling by an outdoor spigot, washing the blood from his hands. It pooled on the dirtied ground in a murky puddle.

  He didn't look up as I approached him. "It doesn't get easier," he said, rubbing his hands together. "You'd think eventually that it would, but it doesn't."

  I didn't respond because there was nothing to say. Not being able to save someone and watching them die? Yeah, it never got easier.

  Sighing heavily, he turned off the spigot and stood, wiping his hands along the front of his jeans. A wavy lock fell across his forehead and into his eyes. "That man back there? When he got up this morning, he probably thought he was coming home tonight."

  "Probably," I whispered, not even sure he heard me over the partygoers on the street and sidewalk.

  Ren lifted his chin to the small balconies above. "He had no idea."

  "No."

  Shoulders tensing, he lowered his chin and met my gaze. Several moments passed and neither of us said anything. The world outside the alley washed away, all the noise retreating to a distant hum. The sorrow in his expression was palpable, and I knew he felt the stranger's death in a way most Order members didn't. Not that they didn't care about a human loss, but when you were surrounded by so much death, you not only expected it but became a part of it.

  Without giving myself time to really think about what I was doing, I stepped forward and reached out, wrapping my hand around his damp one. His eyes flared back to life with surprise. Feeling warmth in my cheeks, I squeezed his hand then let go.

  His gaze traveled over my face then flicked up. He grabbed me by the shoulders, jolting me. I gasped out of shock as he pulled me against his chest and turned, pressing me toward the building.

  Not even a second later, a blue and white moped flew down the alley, moving so quickly the force created a sharp burst of wind. Eyes wide, I watched it breach the entrance on the other side, hanging a sharp right.

  "Oh my God, I . . . I almost got run over by a moped," I said, turning my bewildered stare back on Ren. "That would've been so embarrassing to be taken out by one of them."

  His lips twitched as his striking features softened. "Good thing you have me around, saving you from reckless moped drivers."

  "You're a hero," I replied.

  Ren laughed, and I felt a measure of satisfaction at hearing the sound. Although I'd only known him for a short period of time, I hadn't liked the burden etched into his features. It didn't seem right on him.

  He drew in a deep breath, and mine caught. In that moment, I realized we were chest-to-chest, so close I thought I could feel his pounding heart, but it might've been mine. Probably was mine, but there wasn't an inch of space between our bodies, and unlike the last time we were like this, I was so not feeling anger.

  His arms draped loosely around my waist, and a heady warmth trilled through my veins. I stared at the vee of skin exposed above the collar of his shirt and realized dimly that my hands were on his chest. I had no idea how they got there. They had a mind of their own. That headiness dropped low in my belly, tightening muscles that had been on vacation for a fairly long amount of time.

  Holy crap, I was actually experiencing a case of insta-lust. Sure, I'd noticed guys since Shaun, but nothing more than a passing interest that lasted all of ten seconds and was easily forgettable, but this . . . this was like basking in the sun.

  Good news? My lady bits still worked—oh yeah, they were really working, like, overtime. The tips of my breasts tingled where they touched his chest. A blade of desire pierced me sharply, and it was the first time in three years I'd felt this level of attraction.

  And Val, who had a healthy obsession with the functionality of my lady bits, would be thrilled to know they still worked.

  Bad news? I wasn't sure exactly what was bad about any of this yet, but I was sure I'd come up with a few things as soon as there was some kind of space between us and my brain started working again.

  "You okay?" Ren asked, voice deeper and rougher. "Your stomach?"

  Don't look up. Don't look up. My gaze roamed up his neck, over lips that really were way too nicely formed, along a nose I realized must've been broken at some point due to the slight hook in its structure, then I was staring into eyes surrounded by thick black lashes. Dammit, I had looked up.

  But gosh, his eyes were really beautiful.

  One side of his mouth curled up. "Ivy?"

  I blinked. "Yeah, my stomach is fine. I actually ran this morning, and it didn't bother me at all."

  "That's good." The tilt of his lips spread into a full smile, and oh me, oh my, those dimples came out and those muscles low in my stomach tightened even more. "Ivy?" he said my name again.

  "Yeah?" I was proud of the fact that I didn't take forever to answer, but the breathless quality of my voice sounded strange to my ears, because even with . . .

  I didn't want to finish that thought.

  He dipped his chin, and my heart jumped. "You going to let go of my shirt? I mean, you don't have to, but you keep tugging on my shirt like that, I'm going to get all kinds of naughty ideas that I will, without a doubt, act on."

  At first I didn't get it. What the hell was he rambling on about? Parts of my body got hung up on the naughty ideas he'd act on and got all kinds of happy about that. My gaze dropped and I saw my hands were fisting his shirt, and . . . his arms weren't around me anymore.

  Oh my God, I was groping him—his shirt. Could you grope a shirt? I was pretty sure I was groping his shirt.

  Dropping my hands, I took a step back and bounced into the brick wall. Total stealth move right there. I wanted to kick myself.

  Ren's eyes glimmered in the fading sunlight filtering between the buildings. He didn't speak for a moment, just holding my stare with his and then, "We should probably clear out of the area."

  Good idea. Great idea. Witnesses could have given our description, and those we had on the force might not be around to play interference. Drawing in a deep breath, I reined in my newly discovered active lady bits as he stepped aside gracefully. For such a large guy, he moved as if he was made of air. Actually everything about the way he moved was fascinating to watch.

  Or I really, seriously, just needed to get laid.

  I sighed.

  Then the worst possible thing in the history of mankind and beyond burst out of my mouth. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

  Holy shit balls on Sunday, I did not just ask that. Ren looked over his shoulder at me, one eyebrow arched. I did ask that. Those words really did come out of my mouth and I wanted to maim myself, but I waited to hear his answer.

  Ren's grin was like dark chocolate, smooth and rich. "Not yet."

  Chapter Eight

  The rest of our shift was pretty uneventful compared to what happened at the start of it. I tried not thinking about that poor woman and the innocent man, the life that was lost in a matter of minutes, the life that would be lost, and all the other lives that would be impacted. Not thinking about it, as callous as that sounded¸ was the on
ly way we could continue hunting. And I tried not to think about the tension-filled moment Ren and I had shared or the absolutely stupid question I had asked or his mysterious response. That was the only way I could still walk beside him without wanting to pitch myself in front of a moving vehicle.

  We found three fae—normal fae—during our patrol. As much as it killed me to stand aside and let Ren handle them since I'd been ordered to not engage, I was already tired of arguing, at least for the night. Both of us would be off on Sunday, and I was thinking by Monday I'd be able to fight without risking much damage to the stitches.

  When it was time for our shift to end at one, I wasn't entirely surprised when he attempted to escort me home. "I'm going to get a cab," I told him. "It's too far of a walk, even in the day."

 

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