Twisted Fate

by Jessi Elliott

  “Observant. Well done,” I shoot back, my hands clenching into fists. Don’t show him weakness, I chant to myself as my fists shake.

  “You’ve got a mouth on you, blondie.” He walks closer, leaving the door open as he pulls on heavy gloves. He yanks the chains off the chair and forces me into a standing position, leaving my arms chained together.

  I glance past him, but all there is to see beyond the doorway is a long, dimly lit hallway. “Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here?”

  Max rolls his eyes. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat, blinking back hot tears. “What the hell do you expect?” Each word is laced with a combination of fear and anger, making my tone sharp and lower than normal.

  He ignores what I said and inhales as he did at the party, grinning in a twisted way that turns my stomach. “Your fear . . . it’s delicious.”

  My lip curls in disgust. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m hungry.” He sighs. “There’s never much to eat around here. Nothing I’m allowed to, anyway.”

  “I suggest a McDonald’s drive thru,” I remark, bitterness heavy in my tone.

  He laughs. “You’re funny, too. Good to know.” He reaches out and grasps my chin in his gloved hand.

  Panic floods through me, and I react without thinking, kneeing him in the stomach.

  He reels back a step, growling, and his eyes darken. “You stupid girl.”

  “I like my personal space,” I say in a defensive tone.

  Without a word, his hand shoots forward, and his fingers wrap around my throat. “Forgive me,” he mutters with fake sincerity. “I tend to get a bit irritable”—he pauses and tightens his grip on my neck—“when I’m hungry.”

  Black dots dance across my vision, my heart slamming against my chest as I struggle to breathe. My eyes roll back, but Max scoffs and releases his grip on my throat before I pass out. When I cough and wheeze, he takes a step back, his face contorted with disgust. I suck in a breath, greedily filling my lungs with air as he removes the chains from my wrists.

  “Please,” I force out as the chains hit the floor. “I want to go home.” I fold my arms over my chest, staring at the wall to avoid looking at my captor.

  “What? No ‘thank you’?” he bites back. Max throws the gloves off and places a hand on my collarbone, backing me against the wall before shoving his leg between my thighs.

  I scream at the top of my lungs, aiming my knee a little lower this time to catch him hard in the groin. When he doubles over, clutching himself, I bolt for the door.

  The hallway beyond the door is longer than I thought. I make it to the end, my flat shoes slapping against the marble floor as I run, too afraid to look behind me. As I round the corner, I’m grabbed from behind by impossibly strong arms and thrown against the wall. My head throbs, and I reach up and touch my forehead with a shaky hand. I’m unsurprised to find blood when I pull it away. A trail of warmth trickles down my face, dripping blood onto the floor at my feet.

  “I’ve decided that I don’t like you,” Max hisses in my ear, and I shudder. “I did a nice thing for you, taking the chains off, and this is how you thank me?” He barks out a laugh and grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. “Your fear . . .” He slams me back into the wall again, and I cry out. “It’s stronger now. Lucky me.” He grins, but all I can focus on is the darkness in his eyes as he leans in.

  “Seriously?” A sharp, female voice says. “You can’t follow the simplest directions, can you?”

  Max scowls, turning his face to look at the tall Asian woman approaching us with brows raised. She stops off to the side, radiating elegance in a dark purple dress. The woman is wearing heels, but I didn’t hear her approach. Her black hair falls almost to her waist.

  “Back off, Sky, this has nothing to do with you.”

  She rolls her eyes, sparing me a brief glance. “I’m looking out for you, asshat.”

  Max pulls his hand away from my face, shifting his body away from mine to face the woman. “What would you have me do? Let her go?”

  “That’s not your call,” she says.

  I flick my eyes back and forth between them, and then I bolt again. I have no idea where I am or where I’m going, but when an elevator comes into view, I sprint toward it, slamming my fist against the button.

  “You’re going to let her get away?” Max hollers, making the panic in my chest dig its claws deeper.

  “Let her try.” The woman seems uninterested whether I escape or not.

  The elevator slides open, and I throw myself forward—right into a solid wall of muscle. The force knocks the air out of my lungs, but I still open my mouth to scream. I reel back as my eyes snap upward to meet a pair of brilliant lapis lazuli irises.They’re like the darkest parts of the ocean woven with lighter, softer hues, and surrounded by dark, thick lashes.

  Max grabs me again, pulling me away from the new arrival as he steps off the elevator.

  “Max,” Blue Eyes says in a calm, measured voice. “Remove your hands from the girl. Now.”

  My kidnapper hesitates, growling low in his throat before he lets go. My face stings like a bitch where blood continues to trickle from the gash on my forehead. I touch it again and wince at the sharp pain that follows.

  The stranger in front of me is tall—at least a foot taller than I am—and built. I think he’s a bit older than me, considering the expensive-looking dark gray suit he’s wearing.

  His eyes stare into mine as he waves a hand to dismiss Max. “Leave us.”

  Max nods once and takes off down another hallway with his head hung low.

  The man blocks the elevator, which is the only way out of here—the only one I can see, anyway. He cocks his head to the side.

  “Move,” I demand, surprising myself by the harsh tone of my voice.

  The man raises his brows; I’ve surprised him, too. “Where are you off to?” He sounds curious.

  “I’m not going to die here,” I say, my determination clear.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” His jaw is sharp and shadowed with stubble. He steps forward, bringing his hand toward my face, and huffs in annoyance when I flinch.

  “Hands off! Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter right now. Allow me? It will help.” He lifts his hand to my face again and gently holds me in place while his fingers brush along my jaw. The throbbing from before fades, leaving a warm, tingling sensation.

  My eyes widen, and I turn my face away from his hand. “What the hell was that?” My heart is beating fast, but I try not to let the shock show on my face.

  “You’re welcome,” he says dryly.

  “Who are you?” I repeat.

  “You may call me—”

  “Tristan, there are more important things to deal with right now.” The woman from before is back with an armful of file folders.

  He arches a brow at her. “I’ll deal with what I decide needs to be dealt with, Skylar.”

  “Or you could let me out of here,” I suggest. “No need to deal with me at all.”

  “The human makes an excellent suggestion, and that’s coming from me.”

  Human?

  Tristan makes a sound of frustration, a deep rumble in his throat, and then, with a subtle flick of his wrist, Skylar vanishes. She was standing no more than four feet from me, and now she’s gone.

  My hand flies to my mouth, my mind reeling. “You . . .” I can’t form words. “What just . . . ?” The ability to finish a sentence escapes me. My eyes fill with tears, and I start shaking.

  “Yes?” he murmurs.

  I jerk my fingers through my hair, pressing them into my scalp, urging myself to wake up. “I’m going insane,” I groan. When Tristan steps forward, I reel back, my body springing into a defensive stance, my hands clenched into fists, ready to swing. “Did you kill her?” My voice cracks.

  He chuckles. “I didn’t kill her. I simply shifted her back to her office. Aurora, I need you to li
sten to me,” he says in a calm voice. How does he know my name?

  I shake my head adamantly. “You stay away from me!”

  “I’m afraid that’s not going to work.”

  In an instant, I lose it. I try to push him away, slamming my hands against his solid chest, but he doesn’t move an inch. “What the hell are you?” I demand through chattering teeth, fighting to keep tears back.

  His eyes flicker across my face, and he sighs. “Calm down,” he says. “Take a deep breath.” He waits until I exhale before he continues. “I’m the leader of the fae, Aurora. I imagine that means nothing to you.” My brows rise, and he says, “I thought not.”

  “Why am I here?” I ask and force myself to hold his steely gaze.

  “That is the eternal question, isn’t it?”

  “You said you’re the leader of the fae?” I’m no expert, but I did take a mythology class last year to boost my average. Tristan doesn’t look like what I think he should if my textbook is to hold any merit. No physical traits one might associate with a supposed supernatural being. He doesn’t have pointy ears or sharp teeth.

  He’s lying. He must be. But then, how else could I explain his ability to heal my injuries? His ability to make that woman disappear?

  He nods. “Precisely. However, I’m sure your idea of what we are is purely fictional.”

  I shrug, weary of his proximity. As much as I want to deny everything, what I saw with my own eyes is making it difficult to discredit. It’s possible I’m suffering from some wicked hallucinations, or maybe Max did drug me at the party and again after he brought me here.

  “I’m curious.” He cocks his head to the side, his light brown, almost blond hair, falling into his face. “What is it you believe you know about my kind? Care to offer any theories?”

  I press my lips together. If I’m to believe what Tristan says—though I’m not sure what to think right now—maybe I can use this opportunity to get some information. Or at least play along until I figure out an escape plan. “I’ll tell you what I believe if you tell me why I’m here.”

  “You wish to trade information? This could be amusing. Please, go ahead.”

  “You’re immortal,” I say, recalling the basics of most inhuman creatures.

  He offers a charming grin. “For the most part.”

  “You can’t lie.”

  The grin remains. “True, though we are masters at evading.”

  “Iron is poisonous to you.”

  The grin slips a bit. “Yes.”

  “Why am I here?” I finally ask.

  He looks at me, a thoughtful expression painting his features. “You don’t wish to know more about me?”

  “I think I know enough. Your name is Tristan. If I’m to take what you’ve told me as the truth, you’re the leader of the fae. You made your girlfriend disappear—which I’m sure all guys would love to be able to do occasionally—and that other guy was trying to eat my emotions. How am I doing?”

  His laugh is a deeply sensual, caressing sound, making my eyes widen. “Skylar is of no romantic significance to me. As for Max, you’re right about that. It’s one of the ways we feed.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “On emotions?”

  “On human emotions,” he corrects. “And energy. The two are closely related. We feed by contact, or, if we’re in a large crowd of humans, we can absorb it without touching. So long as we don’t take too much energy, the only effect on the human is exhaustion.”

  “Right . . .” I feel like my head is pretty damn close to exploding.

  “It’s how the immortal stay immortal, Aurora.”

  Immortality. This can’t be real. “I’m here—to be fed off of? Are you . . . ?” My voice trails off as my stomach churns.

  Tristan shakes his head. “I’m not going to feed from you. That’s not why you’re here. Though I have to agree with your statement about Max. He gets carried away. I will speak with him.” He checks his watch and looks annoyed. “Later.”

  “Lovely.” I sigh, tipping my head back against the wall. “If I wasn’t brought here to be a human vending machine, why am I here?” I’m still in denial, but the words tumble out of my mouth as if I believe what he’s been saying.

  “It was an honest mistake.”

  “Of course it was. You can’t lie,” I remark dryly.

  He smirks. “It was a case of mistaken identity,” he explains. “Max was sent out to retrieve someone, and he mistook you for her.”

  “When he discovered I wasn’t who he thought, he kidnapped me anyway?”

  Tristan nods. “Yes, well, Max doesn’t always pay as much attention to detail as he should.”

  “If I’m not who you want, then why am I still here? And how did you know my name?”

  “A mistake was made, and you were involved. There is certain protocol to be followed when something like this happens. Keeping you wasn’t a decision Max made. I did. However, you weren’t meant to be handled the way you were. Max wasn’t supposed to go into the room. As for your name, I had one of my guys run your prints.”

  My eyes widen. This guy is certifiably insane—they all are. “I have a family, you know. And the last time I checked, kidnapping is a crime.”

  “You’ll find that your laws mean nothing to us. We have our own laws—our own moral code.” He seems to believe what he’s telling me. Or he’s a damn good actor. “As for the family you mentioned . . .” He rubs his jaw as if he’s deciding what to say. “It seems they are partly to blame for the unfortunate mix-up.”

  I lick the dryness from my lips and shake my head. “You’re insane.”

  “Max can be a little unfocused at times, especially under the circumstances last night.” He huffs out an agitated sigh. “He wasn’t exactly sober, but I can understand how he mistook you for the intended target.”

  This keeps getting crazier. “What are you talking about?”

  His eyes take on a curious light as they flicker across my face. “You truly have no idea, do you?”

  I glare at him. “No, I don’t.”

  “You have fae ancestors. I’d guess hundreds of years back, and considering your surname, they’d be on your father’s side. None related closely enough to make you fae, but close enough that a small remnant of their magic lies dormant within you. That’s why Max thought you were the one he was assigned to collect.”

  I burst out laughing. “I’m not sure where you’re getting this shit from. I don’t think you understand how crazy you sound.” The throbbing behind my eyes returns, but more from the stress and how fast my head is spinning than from Max’s assault.

  The corner of his mouth quirks. “You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question.

  “I just met you,” I say in a quiet voice. “I don’t believe anything.” He’s trying to use my family to make me buy his story.

  He steps closer and places a finger under my chin, gently tilting it upward, as if he’s concerned he’ll hurt me.

  I freeze as his eyes dance across my face, as though he’s studying every inch meticulously.

  He slowly traces the line of my jaw, brushing my hair back and tucking it behind my ear. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, his voice soft.

  I swallow and shake my head. “No.”

  “Aurora.”

  “Tristan,” I level.

  He smiles. “You’re not afraid of me.”

  I consider what he says and decide he’s right. As much as I probably should fear him—the alleged leader of the fae—I don’t.

  “You silly, silly human,” he says, shaking his head in exasperation, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “It’s a good thing you aren’t going to remember any of this.”

  His fingers warm against my skin, and his eyes capture mine in a gaze that goes on too long. Then, his eyebrows rise, and he adjusts his hand, squinting slightly as he peers into my eyes.

  I blink at him. “What are you doing?”

  He drops his hand and lets loose a surprised lau
gh. “This is going to be a problem.”

  “Hold on. What did you mean by you aren’t going to remember any of this? Holy shit, were you trying to give me some freaky ass fae amnesia?”

  His lips twitch. “It would seem my manipulation doesn’t work on you.”

  Despite the pounding of my heart, I smile. He can’t control me.

  Tristan seems civilized for a fae, not that I’ve come across any before today. I’m finding it hard to wrap my head around the possible existence of them. He looks deceptively human, aside from his vivid eyes. It makes my head spin, more so when I consider there’s a tiny chance he’s being truthful. I could be living among the fae without any knowledge. I could have family ties to the fae.

  I scan the undecorated hallway outside the elevator, searching for a sign of hidden cameras, but find nothing. I’m cold, disconnected from my body, as if someone is going to jump out and tell me this whole thing is a prank. Or I’ll wake up any second, lying in my dorm room in a cold sweat, shivering from this nightmare.

  Tristan asks me to follow him, and I concede, figuring I have a better chance at escaping if I’m somewhere with a window or a door. We step into the small elevator, and I put as much distance between us as possible. Tristan’s lips twitch in amusement, but I ignore him.

  He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “You’ll have to forgive me for Max’s behavior.”

  I press my lips into a tight line and keep my eyes forward. “I don’t blame you for his behavior,” I say in a low voice. “I blame you for the fact that I’m still here.”

  He nods. “I see.”

  I lean against the wall and cross my arms. “You can’t keep me here.” My voice is quieter than I want. It lacks assurance, and I hate that.

  “Have I said anything to lead you to believe I’m keeping you here?” he asks.

  “Actions speak louder,” I retort. “I was chained to a fucking chair.”

  He shifts his gaze over to me, but I refuse to meet it. “I had no plans to keep you here once I adjusted your memory. I don’t particularly enjoy keeping the company of someone who does not wish to keep mine.”