Twisted Fate

by Jessi Elliott

  When the cab pulls up out front, I exit in a hurry after handing the driver some money. I burst through the front doors and speed-walk to the reception desk where an older looking man checks my ID.

  “Aurora Marshall, you’re the last student to arrive. Please follow me.”

  I almost scowl. Of course, I’m the last one here, did my frantic entrance not tip him off?

  We walk down a wide hallway that opens into another lobby where a man sits behind a table.

  “Register here, and you’re all set,” the receptionist says and walks away before I can thank him.

  I step forward. “I’m Aurora Marshall.”

  “Degree program?” the man asks without looking up from the stack of papers he’s looking through.

  “Business,” I say.

  He lifts his gaze and hands me a lanyard with a visitor pass attached. “Your interview will be held in conference room E.” He stands and points down the hallway. “Last door on your right.”

  “Great, thank you.” I rush toward the room, but when I reach the door, my hand freezes halfway to the doorknob. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I’ve got this. Straightening, I knock before walking into the conference room.

  We all have moments in our lives where we reflect on every bad thing we’ve done in an attempt to comprehend why a terrible thing is happening to us. To determine why we deserve something so awful. As I approach the conference room table and lock eyes with Tristan Westbrook, I’m sucked into one of those moments. What did I do to deserve this?

  He rises from his seat at the head of the table and buttons his black suit jacket. “Good morning, Miss Marshall,” he says, and I stand there, screaming profanities in my head.

  There’s no one else in the room, no one to defuse the tangible tension or to look to for help.

  “This isn’t . . . you can’t . . . what the hell are you doing here?”

  His lips twitch. “An interesting way to introduce yourself to a potential boss.”

  My jaw clenches. “I’d sooner work under the manager of a Taco Bell,” I seethe. “This is not happening.” I move back a few steps. “There must be some mistake. I’ll interview for someone—anyone—else.”

  “I figured you might say that. Unfortunately for you, I’m the last mentor available. You see, that’s what happens when you sleep in and arrive late for an interview.”

  “My apologies. I haven’t exactly been sleeping well.”

  “That’s concerning to hear,” he says, but the look on his face tells me he’s far from concerned. If anything, he’s amused. Bastard.

  I stand there in silence for several beats before sighing. “This is my only option. Of freaking course.” I approach the table that separates us. “This is serious. My education is the most important thing to me. I don’t know why god hates me so much as to drop this in my lap, but here I am—and here you are.”

  He nods, remaining silent.

  “For the duration of this interview, you are not you. You’re a successful business owner and mentor that I’m meant to learn from, and I’m, well, I get to be me.”

  He presses his lips together against a smile, and I scowl.

  “Quit it,” I snap.

  He arches a brow. “What am I doing?”

  “You’re looking at me like this is funny, and it’s not. This is my future, and I’m pissed that you’re screwing with it, so I’m telling you how this is going to go.”

  “Are you?” he asks. “Please continue.”

  “You ask questions, and I answer them. You’re impressed with my answers, and then I leave. Simple as that. Got it?”

  “I thought I was supposed to ask the questions.”

  “Tristan!” I shout without thinking. It’s unprofessional, sure, but nothing about this situation is normal, and he has been nothing close to professional either.

  “Relax, Aurora. Why don’t we start?”

  I huff out a breath and force a nod. “Fine.”

  He sticks his hand out. “Good morning. I’m Tristan Westbrook.”

  I hesitate but place my hand in his and shake it. “Aurora Marshall.”

  “Come on. You can do better than that. Do I make you that nervous?” His eyes dance with amusement.

  I snatch my hand back. “No.” My response is a bit too quick. “Let’s just do this.”

  “Very well.” He gestures to the chair across from him where I’m standing. “Please,” he says before he returns to his seat.

  I sit and pull my portfolio out of my bag. Opening it, I slide my resume out and set it on the table. I flick a glance up to find him watching me, and I push the paper toward him.

  He picks it up and reads it over before setting it back down. “Your volunteer work is impressive.”

  “Thank you.”

  He meets my gaze. “What are you hoping to gain from this work placement?”

  I take a deep breath. “Experience, of course. That’s what anyone in my position would say. This isn’t for me to get a taste of what my career might be to see whether I like it. I’m in my fourth and final year of this program. I don’t have time to change my mind. Before walking into this interview, I would’ve said this might lead to full-time employment after I impressed my mentor, but alas, circumstances shape my answers. I’m going to go ahead and say experience—that’s the safest answer.”

  “You choose to play it safe?”

  “It depends,” I say.

  “On?” he counters.

  “Circumstances.” My voice has a bit of an edge to it.

  “Have you been in positions of power in the past?”

  “Yes. As listed under my volunteer experience, I led several teams during school events, and over the past few years, I’ve been one of the head members of the student union during the winter semester.”

  “Do you seek out these positions of power?”

  “If you’re asking me whether I like control, I think you—” I stop. “Yes, I do.”

  “You seem like a driven young woman.”

  “I like to think so,” I say. “I know what I want, and I plan to do whatever it takes to achieve that.”

  He clicks the pen in his hand. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Any more questions?”

  “Do you have a copy of your class schedule?”

  I nod and hand it to him from my portfolio, cringing at the way my hand shakes. I knew this interview would make me nervous, regardless of the mentor, but Tristan sitting across from me is heightening that tenfold. I just need to get through this. I fold my hands in my lap and sit straighter, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth to try to calm my uneven pulse.

  “Excellent. So you have Mondays off?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “That works for me. You’ll start this coming Monday, nine o’clock sharp.”

  My stomach flips at the burst of anxious excitement in my chest. “I . . . wait, hold on. That’s it?”

  He leans back in his chair. “That’s it.”

  “What if I don’t want to work under you?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman say that to me,” he says with a twist of his lips.

  “First of all, gross. Off to a great start with the sexual harassment.” I shoot him a sarcastic thumbs up.

  “Like I said, I’m the last mentor available, so it’s me or nothing. Your choice. But as I recall, you need this to graduate. Like you said, your education is the most important thing to you.”

  “You did this,” I accuse in a low voice as I stand, Allison’s warning running through my mind. He isn’t finished with you.

  He shrugs. “That doesn’t change anything.”

  “I’m going to—”

  “What? Tell your program coordinator that the leader of the fae manipulated her mind to ensure that you were placed with his company?”

  “You can’t—”

  “Yet I did,” he says, an arrogant quality to his voice.

 
I step away from the table, turning my back on this fucked-up interview, and head for the door. I’m reaching for the handle when I make a snap decision. I turn around quickly, only to find myself face to chest with Tristan. His presence overwhelms me all at once. Heat radiates from him, warming my cheeks as I fight to not inhale his scent. I need to keep my thoughts clear, sharp. I can’t have my head spinning right now.

  “What?” I breathe.

  He steals my gaze. “You turned around,” he says, a challenge in his tone.

  “You were following me,” I counter, unable to force my eyes away from his.

  “And soon you’ll be the one following me.” He flashes a grin. “Lighten up, Aurora. Your negative energy is ruining this moment. Try to see it as a unique learning opportunity.”

  I glare at him. “Are you kidding me?”

  He raises a brow. “What would you like me to say?” He tips his face closer sightly, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “You’re not making this little situation of ours any easier.”

  “You’re the one who waltzed into my life all tall, dark, and . . . you.” I want to kick myself for letting his proximity cloud my head for even a second. Damn him and his distracting blue eyes and crisp, alluring scent. Fucking hell, I need to get out of here.

  He leans forward, and I step back until I’m against the door. “I’m almost glad my manipulation doesn’t work on you,” he says in a voice so quiet I barely catch it. “I think that would eliminate all the fun we have.”

  I shove him back, and he concedes a few inches with a nod, because there’s no way my actual shove did anything. “What part of this do you think is fun for me?” I bark out a laugh. “You think I go home at the end of the day laughing to myself at how much fun I’ve had dealing with an arrogant, egocentric, fae leader who could ruin my entire life if he chooses?” My hands are still pressed against his chest. Why are my hands still pressed against his chest?

  Tristan tilts his head to the side, watching me with interest. My chest swirls with nervous energy as my eyes flick across his face.

  “I’m not afraid of you, as stupid as that is. I’m concerned as to why you’re paying me so much attention. Max was right.” I pause. “You better not tell him I said that. If only you could make me forget. Then I wouldn’t have the knowledge of your race, regardless of whatever creepy connection my family has to the fae.”

  Tristan seems to consider this for a moment before he says, “If it were possible, would you really want me to make you forget?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” I mutter, finally finding the will to pull my hands away and let them fall to my sides.

  “I realize that. I’m asking you.”

  “I don’t see that it matters now,” I say.

  “Answer the question.”

  “Why?” I snap.

  He’s quick in sliding a finger under my chin and tilting it up until our eyes meet, and my heart slams against my chest. His eyes flit back and forth across my face as I stand there, frozen. The wildness of his irises calms for a moment. There’s a shift, almost too insignificant to notice, but I catch it. For a split second, a pained expression darkens his features. It’s gone before I can understand what it means, and he steps away, giving me room to breathe.

  His hands fall to his sides. “I think that answers my question.”

  My throat is too dry to speak; my voice will crack if I try, so I stay silent. This interview is over. I reach for the door and step into the hallway, feeling Tristan’s gaze on my back. My feet carry me toward the lobby, but my mind is elsewhere. I’m almost far enough away to let myself relax when I hear his send-off.

  “Good to meet you, Miss Marshall. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Allison jumps when I return to our room and slam the door shut, throwing my bag onto my bed. My mind is still going a million miles an hour with no end in sight.

  “We have to talk about the fae. Now.” I need answers, or I’m going to unhinge. My life has been uprooted and flipped upside down, but knowing there’s so much I don’t know is making my anxiety dig its claws in deep.

  She sits up on her bed and turns her attention to me.

  “Especially since I went for my interview . . .” She nods along, but she has no idea where I’m going with this. “Tristan is my mentor.”

  She stiffens. “What the hell? How?”

  “How? He screwed with my program coordinator’s head, Al. He made her put me with his company, and now my life is ruined.” It sounds melodramatic, but it’s true.

  “We’ll figure this out, Aurora. I promise.”

  “There’s nothing we can do. I’m stuck with this. I need a placement to graduate, so I’m going to have to bite the bullet and show up on Monday.” It’s days away, but I’m already wound up tight, my mind running through the possible ways it could go.

  “Are you sure there isn’t a way to get a new mentor?”

  If I weren’t so freaked, I’d hug her. Allison always tries to come up with a positive solution. Her suggestion might’ve worked, except Tristan was the last mentor available. “I don’t have a choice.” Damn that arrogant fae for screwing with me like this.

  “I wish there was something I could do,” she says, her voice filled with worry.

  “I know,” I say. “You know him better than I do. What can you tell me?”

  She sighs. “You’re sure you want me to tell you about him?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” There’s something about him, something that tells me he won’t hurt me. He’s had plenty of opportunities to and hasn’t yet. There’s a chance my fae lineage—as insane as that whole story is—will keep me safe when it comes to Tristan. That doesn’t mean I trust him, far from it, but if I’m going to deal with him to complete this part of my degree, I’m going to need every piece of information Allison can give me.

  She pats the spot beside her, and I walk over and sit. “I’ll tell you what I’ve heard. First off, Tristan is a man of his word. This can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the situation. He’s big into respect—”

  I laugh, cutting her off. “I find that a little hard to believe.”

  She frowns. “He has a small circle of people he trusts.”

  “He doesn’t have many friends. Shocking,” I remark dryly.

  “Aurora, this is serious. You could be in danger every moment you’re at that hotel. Other fae might not accept his decision to let you go.”

  “That’s comforting. Thank you.” I’m fidgeting with my hands in my lap. The more we talk about Tristan, the more I want to hop on a train and get the hell out of Dodge.

  “I’m telling you what you need to know. Stay quiet. Don’t be witty or smart or—”

  “Or me?” I shake my head. “I’m not going to cower in the corner and be his bitch. He’s screwing with my life, so I’m going to make this a living hell for him.”

  “Aurora.” She clasps her hands together in front of her as if she’s about to pray. A girl who’s never set foot in a church or said grace in the years I’ve known her. “Please don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

  I roll my eyes. “Relax. I’m not going to be stupid.”

  She eyes me with a look of concern. “Tristan can be very charming, and he’s a good leader. As much as the guy freaks me out, I can’t deny that. Do what you can to stay on his good side. He already seems to like you, which is odd for him. It’s either going to help keep you safe or put a target on your back.”

  “Awesome. Like there was a target on your back? I still don’t know why,” I say, prompting her to explain it to me.

  She scratches the back of her neck. “I broke one of his rules. Fae living in the human world are required to follow certain rules. One of which has to do with who we associate with romantically.”

  My forehead creases. “Are you kidding me? Fae aren’t allowed to be with humans? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard since I found out about the fae.”

  “Tristan is kind of—
”

  “A complete sociopath,” I offer. He went after Allison because of her relationship with Oliver? The leader of the fae had nothing more important to do than track one fae who’s dating a human? It doesn’t make sense. I remind myself that not much about Tristan does.

  She cringes. “You should be careful how you speak about him, or to him for that matter.”

  “I’m not going to walk on eggshells around him.”

  “I’m just saying, the guy can be intense. And he’s fae—the leader—which makes him incredibly powerful. Like, more powerful than the average fae.”

  I sigh. Of course he is. “Why’s that?”

  “Generations of magic passed down to him. We all have the same abilities he does, but his are magnified because he’s the leader. The power from each of his ancestors now lives inside him, making him stronger than me or Max, for example.”

  I blow out a breath. “Thanks for the info. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind the next time he does something to piss me off.” I’d bet good money that’ll be sooner rather than later.

  “Tristan has taken an interest in you,” she says.

  A faint flutter in my stomach makes the tops of my ears burn. “Why do you say that? Because he’s stuck? Because I was kidnapped by mistake, and now I’m an obligation?”

  She presses her lips together. “He doesn’t usually pay attention to humans outside of his business.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better. I don’t want his attention.” The slight shift in my pulse tries to make a liar out of me.

  “I know that, and I understand. My advice is to lie low and keep your head down as much as possible.”

  I arch a brow at her. “Does that sound like me?”

  “Aurora, I’m serious. This is for your own safety.”

  “You think he’s going to hurt me?” A faint voice in my head says no. It holds no merit, and yet, I want to believe it.

  She hesitates. “No, I don’t, but he’s not who I’m worried about. Tristan has enemies, Aurora.”

  “Now that I believe.”

  “You stumbled into this world at potentially the worst possible moment.”