Wicked

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  and that . . . that one word cycled over and over in my scattered thoughts as someone hit the ground next to me. The voices increased, and I thought that maybe it was Ren beside me, that maybe he was the one touching me so carefully, but all I could hear was that one word the prince had whispered.

  Halfling.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Time . . . time moved strangely for me. I had no real concept of it. All I became aware of at some point was that I'd been moved from the rough carpet and placed on something much softer. A bed maybe? Then I'd eventually heard a low beeping that was persistent, ticking away in the background—a heart monitor. Once I managed to open my eyes—my one eye actually—through my blurred vision I was able to make out the off-white drop ceiling and low lights. There was a distinct antiseptic scent permeating the air. Dumbly, I realized I must've been in a hospital, and if I was here instead of headquarters, then things were serious, but I was too tired to chase that thought.

  I had no idea how much time passed like that, when I would become aware of my surroundings for a few moments here and there. Once I thought I felt Ren near me. Another time I thought I heard Val's laughter, but that thought didn't make sense to my addled mind. There were reasons why I hadn't heard Val's laughter. And then there were other moments when I woke up and the only thing I could think about was what the prince had said to me.

  Halfling.

  This time, though, as I crawled through the darkness, I was about to pry one of my eyes open, and when I blinked, bringing the ceiling back into focus, I didn't fade away immediately.

  I drew in a deep breath and winced as dull pain radiated up and down my sides. I tried to swallow, but my throat felt raw like I swallowed a mouthful of nails. The more moments that danced on by, the more pain I became aware of. My face hurt. Hurt like I'd run face first into a brick wall then motor-boated it. My jaw ached, so did my left eyeball—like my entire eyeball. A steady throbbing emanated from my right wrist. A fire burned bright in my ribs.

  Waking up sucked. God.

  I wiggled my fingers, relieved to find that they worked. Next, I would attempt my toes, but before I could do the system check, there was movement in the room.

  The bed dipped slightly, and then I saw the most beautiful green eyes, two emerald jewels plucked out of a mine and placed behind thick lashes, shining out from a striking set of features that I'd come to . . . love. My heart started racing, and the beeping matched the pace. I loved him. I did. Somehow it had happened in the mix of all of this.

  "Hey," he said softly, staring at me like a man who never thought he'd be holding this conversation. "There you are sleepy-butt. You gonna stay with me this time?"

  I focused on him with my one eye as emotion built in my throat. What put me here, in this bed, lingered in the back of my mind, not forgotten, but just . . . there. "Hey," I managed to croak.

  A relieved smile appeared on his face, softening the dark shadows under his eyes. His hair looked like he'd run his hand through it many times. He stared at me a moment then reached for the stand next to the bed. "You thirsty?"

  I started to nod but realized that wasn't a smart idea. "Yeah."

  Ren poured water from a pitcher into a plastic cup. "Okay. Just a little." He slipped one hand carefully under my head and lifted, bringing the cup to my lips. The cool water stung my mouth and throat, but it was like swallowing heaven. He pulled back before I could chug it like a college drinking game. I glared at him with one eye.

  "Slowly." He laughed, his eyes lightening. "I don't want you to get sick on top . . ." His jaw flexed as he thrust those fingers through his hair again. "On top of everything else."

  Everything else—my aching face, battered ribs, but I was alive and that shocked me, because I'd felt something serious break inside me. Something really bad. My brows pinched.

  "God, Ivy . . ." Clearing his throat, he leaned down and kissed me gently on the tip of my nose. "I haven't spent one moment not freaking the fuck out. I thought . . . when I saw you in that room . . ."

  The raw pain in his voice hurt to hear. "I'm okay, I think."

  "You think?" He laughed outright at that, his laugh deep and throaty. When he lifted his head, I thought there was a sheen to his eyes. "You're in the hospital near your house—Kindred Hospital. We couldn't keep you at headquarters."

  After another slow drink of water, I managed to get my tongue working. "How . . . what's happened?"

  "Ivy." He carefully brushed back a wayward curl as a look of deep pain sliced through his features. "Do you not remember?"

  "I . . . remember." I settled back against the pillows, strangely exhausted despite the fact I had a feeling I'd been playing Sleeping Beauty for a while. "What day is it?"

  He didn't look like he wanted to answer at first. "Saturday night."

  "What?" I started to sit up, panic exploding like buckshot, but he gently pressed down on my shoulders.

  "It's okay. You need to stay in this bed. Just for a little longer. You were hurt pretty badly, Ivy." His hands lingered.

  "But . . ." I glanced around the room, seeing that we were alone. "But the knights—the prince, they got out."

  He shook his head. "Strangely, it wasn't the giant apocalypse that we thought it would be. The Order—what's left of the Order—has been on patrol every night since then. We haven't seen a single knight or that motherfucker. David and a few are heading to Flux tonight, but I have a feeling they aren't going to find anything there."

  My thoughts were sluggish, trying to follow what he was saying. "That doesn't make sense."

  "No, not really, but wherever they are, whatever they're doing, they are in hiding." He smiled at me, but the act didn't reach his green eyes. "We were able to get the gate closed again."

  I let that sink in, but what stayed at the forefront of my thoughts was what he'd said. What's left of the Order. "How many did we lose?"

  Ren cast his gaze to the side, the muscle along his jaw working. "Sixteen."

  Oh my God, I couldn't even . . . I squeezed my good eye shut. The rising sorrow nearly made me wish I was still swimming in that darkness. "Have you all found her . . . Val?" It hurt even saying her name.

  "No. No one has seen her either, not even her family."

  God, what had she done? My thoughts roamed back to seeing her at headquarters. "She was carrying something, Ren. She went there for a reason. She had something covered in black."

  Ren nodded slowly. "I know. Remember Merle mentioning some kind of crystal? David had one stored in a room on the third floor, among other weird shit. I don't know what the importance of the crystal is." He looked away, his shoulders rising with a deep breath. "David hasn't said what the hell it is, and I have no idea."

  I thought about the room that David never allowed anyone in, but how had Val known it was there? To be honest, I'd forgotten about the crystal the moment I learned about halflings.

  "I figured Merle might know, but I haven't . . . well, to be honest, I haven't really cared about that right now. I've only cared about you," he said, and my gaze drifted over him. His brows furrowed as he wrapped his hand around my left one and squeezed gently. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I want to kill her for doing that."

  Yeah, I didn't want to hear that.

  "You could've died and I—" He cut himself off, and when I reopened my eye, he was staring at the space near me, at the monitor. "I wouldn't know what to do."

  My breath hitched. "I'm . . . I'm here." It sounded lame, but it was all I could say.

  His gaze flicked to mine. "You are, but you should have never had to face the prince—any of that. What were you thinking?" He swallowed. "Going after him was like putting a loaded gun to your head."

  "It was my duty."

  He shook his head slowly. "It was suicidal. You're incredibly brave, Ivy. You're strong and courageous, but that was insane, and I wish you never had to face that."

  I wished that too. My thoughts floated back to headquarters, and I wondered if
I'd ever be able to walk in there again and not think about fighting the prince or what he said.

  Halfling.

  A shudder rolled through me. Did the prince think I was a halfling? There was no way—no way. An ancient had been near me when I bled before, but . . . but the prince had been right on me when he sensed it.

  He'd tasted my blood.

  "Hey, let's not talk about any of this." Ren brushed his lips across my temple. "Okay?"

  But I had to ask. "Do you think she was compelled? Val?"

  "I don't know, Ivy. It's possible, but . . ."

  I suddenly wanted to cry. The likelihood of her being compelled was slim. Compulsions didn't last forever unless they were feeding on her, and if that was the case, she was probably already too far gone.

  She was already gone.

  Without asking, I knew orders to bring Val in had been placed by the Order, and it would be a dead or alive sort of thing. Mostly dead. Because other Order members would be gunning for her ass. Her betrayal hurt just as badly as the prince opening a can of whoop ass on me.

  Ren swept his thumb over my hand, and I forced a smile even though it wasn't the most pleasant of all feelings. "How bad do I look?" I asked.

  "You never looked better."

  "You're such a liar. I can feel how much of a hot mess I am right now."

  He raised my hand to his lips and kissed the center of my palm. "You're here. I don't care how you look. Not when I thought I'd lost you."

  My heart expanded in my chest, and I almost—almost—said those three little words. Our gazes collided and held. "Did you think you'd get rid of me that easily?"

  Ren smiled, showing off his dimples. "Honey, that's the last thing I ever want."

  ~

  Sunday evening I was discharged from the hospital and was immediately whisked away to my apartment where I discovered that while I'd been out like a burnt out light bulb, Ren had actually checked in with Tink.

  That alone almost sent me back to the hospital.

  According to the hyped up brownie, Ren had stopped by daily, giving him updates and had not once been 'naked' or tried to kill him. When I looked at Ren, he'd actually looked embarrassed as if he'd been caught fraternizing with the enemy.

  While my injuries could've been worse—should've been worse—I was exhausted and ended up spending most of Sunday through Tuesday in bed with both Ren and Tink catering to my every need, which was interesting to see those two sort of working together.

  I had no idea how I was going to make up all the time I missed in class. Talking to my advisor was on my immediate to-do list once I didn't look like I shoved my face through a meat grinder.

  Tuesday evening I'd migrated out to the living room. Ren sat at the end of the couch, and I was tucked between his legs, resting against his chest. I'd finally upgraded from soup to real food, which meant I'd devoured half a box of pralines while Tink forced us through a marathon of Harry Potter movies.

  "Do you need to repeat every single line from the movie?" Ren asked at one point.

  Tink huffed. "It increases the enjoyment of the film."

  "Maybe for you, but not for the rest of the world," Ren muttered, and I smiled.

  I ended up falling asleep there with Tink sitting on the other arm of the couch, and Ren with his arms looped carefully around me. Every night since I got out of the hospital Ren had stayed with me, and he'd been there when I woke up in the middle of the night, a scream echoing in my ears. And he'd been there to ease the terrors that plagued me in my sleep. I had no idea what I was dreaming about. Each time I woke, there were no images.

  On Wednesday, Ren headed back to work, and tomorrow, if I was feeling up to it, I would head into the Quarter to see David. With us losing so many members, I needed to get back out there. Not that anyone was pressuring me, but I needed to.

  I needed to find Val.

  That was going to be priority number one, and while I knew David and the Order members were looking for her, no one knew her better than I did. No one. I didn't plan on telling Ren, since I knew he'd flip, but I had to try and find her.

  Shuffling into the bathroom, I cringed as I got a good look at myself. My left eye was now opened to a thin slit. The entire left side of my face looked like someone had smacked me with grape and strawberry jam. My lower lip was swollen and torn in the middle. I looked like road kill with greasy, limp curls. Hot.

  I heard the front door open then Tink shouted, "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

  "You're not my keeper," was Ren's response.

  Curious why he was here as it was only seven in the evening, I ambled out to the bedroom just as he filled the doorway. Concern immediately blossomed in the pit of my stomach. "Is everything okay?"

  He grinned as he strode toward me, one arm behind his back. Over his shoulder, I saw Tink hovering in the air. "I just wanted to stop by real quick. Make sure you're okay."

  "You could've texted me . . . wait." I sniffed the air. "What is that I smell?"

  He stopped in front of me, moving his hand out from behind him. He was holding a bag from Café Du Monde.

  Tink squealed like a fifteen-year-old girl at a One Direction concert. Zooming into the room, he snatched the bag from Ren's hand and flew out. Ren turned, frowning. "Save one for her, you little ass!" He turned back to me, narrowing his eyes. "I really don't like that thing."

  "I'm sure the feeling is mutual, but thank you for the beignets."

  "It was really just an excuse to see you." Reaching out, he started to unbutton my cardigan. "I hate the idea of leaving you alone right now."

  I watched him as he lined up the buttons with the correct holes since I'd haphazardly clasped it together. "I'm not alone."

  "That little freak doesn't count."

  "Hey. He's my freak."

  Ren shook his head then cupped my unmarred cheek. "Are you sure you're okay? I can talk to—"

  "I'm okay. I swear. I plan on taking a shower, then crashing on the couch, and hopefully, if Tink doesn't devour all of them, eat sugary goodness until I pass out."

  "Okay." Dipping his head, he gently kissed the corner of my lips. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

  Home? Here? Here was home to him? Oh my God, my heart swelled to the point I thought I'd float up to the ceiling. I don't even know what I said to him when he left, but I was still standing in the middle of my bedroom like a doofus.

  Oh God, I was head over heels, drowning underwater, in love with Ren—with Renald Owens. I was in love with a dude whose real name was Renald. This wasn't the first moment I realized that, but each time I thought it, it shocked me straight to my core.

  Shaking my head, I turned to head back into the bathroom when my gaze danced over the dresser. I stopped, my heart feeling like someone had taken a tack to a balloon.

  Ren had retrieved the thorn stake I'd dropped during my fight with the prince. Right now, it was on my dresser, lined up with my iron stakes.

  Halfling.

  I shut my eyes. It didn't make sense. The prince was just being . . . creepily weird. But that didn't explain what he'd done before Ren and the others showed up. He'd . . . put his hand on my chest and I felt this warmth inside me. I think he'd healed me. I know he did. That was the only reason why I was standing right now and not in an urn. But there was no way. I took a step toward the dresser, then another.

  There was one way to find out. I knew what would happen if I cut myself with the stake. Either I would bleed normally and end up feeling stupid—ridiculously stupid but happy. Or it would . . .

  I reached out, picking up the stake. I shook my head again and started to put it back on the dresser, but I cursed under my breath and opened my left hand, palm up.

  "What are you doing?"

  I gasped, turning around to see Tink in the doorway. Powdery sugar covered the front of his doll shirt. I started to say nothing, but the words tumbled out of my mouth. I hadn't told him anything of what had happened beyond what Ren told him. "When I fought the princ
e, he said something to me—I think he did something to me. You see, I was . . . I was really hurt. Worse than this." I gestured at my face with my free hand. I think he healed me. Is