Torn
Page 30

 Jennifer L. Armentrout

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“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.