Wicked
Page 13

"It takes talent," I replied, eyeing the little dude. A moment passed while he danced around. "Do you know anything about ancients being here?"
He stopped and looked up at me. "No."
"What about why an ancient would suddenly make his presence known?"
A shake of the head. "I have no clue."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Tink?"
"No." He grinned. "You have Amazon Prime."
I snorted. "Good to know how I can secure your loyalty." I pushed off the counter and headed toward my bag. "By the way, while you were passed out, there were deliveries for you. I put them on the chair by the door."
"Ah!" He flew up in the air. "Why did you wait until now to tell me?" Heading toward the living room, he stopped beside me. "But you're okay, right? You're not going to die on me while you sleep? No one knows about me, so no one will know to come looking for me, and I already ate all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms."
Laughing softly, I shook my head. No one knew about Tink, not even Val. Whenever anyone came over, Tink knew to hide. "I'm fine. Just a little sore, but they gave me some stuff for that. I'm going to take a shower then probably sleep."
"It's only four in the afternoon."
"You were passed out when I came in, so I don't want to hear it." Grabbing the bottle of pills out of the front zippered pocket of my backpack, I scooped one out and chased it down with a root beer I fished out of the fridge.
"Don't get addicted to those. I don't want to be roomies with a junkie because then you'll move on to harder shit and end up doing bath salts and eating my face off."  Then he flew out of the room.
Tink . . . Tink was weird.
I'd made it to my bedroom door when he flew past me, clutching a tie-dyed troll doll. He collected them, and I honestly really didn't want to know what he did with them.
Once inside my bedroom, I placed my drink on the nightstand, and flipped on the bedside light. Although I kept the room dark, everything inside of it was bright—the fuchsia pillowcases and deep purple chenille bedspread, the blue and pink paisley bench at the foot of my bed. Even the two dressers and the nightstand were painted a bright blue.
Since I couldn't wear colors like Val did, I lived knee-deep in them.
I got undressed, leaving my clothes in a pile by the door to the en suite bathroom. I was lucky to have two, especially since Tink liked to turn the hallway bathtub into a swimming pool. This bathroom was simple and gorgeous, and I loved the old claw-foot tub with the shower rod.
I cranked the water on to as hot as I could stand it and made sure the bandage covering my stitches was secured before I stepped under the steaming stream. The moment the water hit my skin, I let out a sound of pure bliss. It felt like I hadn't showered in days.
The water ran a deep pink until the basin of the tub cleared and all the dried blood was washed away. I cleaned my hair twice, and as I stood under the pounding stream, I let the events of last night finally catch up to me.
I slapped my hands over my face, but the tide of emotion rose up swiftly, settling in the back of my throat. My eyes burned fiercely as I squeezed them shut, refusing to let the tears fall.
I hadn't cried since the night my adopted parents were slaughtered, the same night Shaun was killed, and I had cried so many tears back then I think there was a good chance I'd soaked up a lifetime's worth of heartache. Getting shot was like pricking open old wounds with a butter knife. I wasn't sure why exactly, other than the flash of mortality, but I saw Holly and Adrian's lifeless stares as if I were standing over them again. Then I saw Shaun, him paling as . . .
Running my fingers over the Freedom symbol inked into my skin next to my left hip, I turned my back to the shower and forced myself to take steady, deep breaths until the knot in my throat lessened and the images of that dark night retreated.
The ache in my stomach had started to fade by the time I stepped out of the shower and dried off, but the antsy feeling that always accompanied thoughts of what happened that night had surfaced and was going strong. So was the feeling of unease as I walked into my cool bedroom. There could be an ancient out there right now, doing God knows what, and I was going to bed?
It wasn't even six in the evening, but the bed did look super appealing. Glancing at my dresser, my gaze skipped over the daggers lined up neatly. They were only slightly different from a stake. The blade was thinner and the handle made them easier to use.
Curling my fingers around the edges of my towel, I blew out an annoyed breath. I knew what I wanted to do, but David would have my ass in a sling since he told me to take off until Wednesday.
But he didn't tell me I had to stay home.
A grin pulled at my lips as I started toward my closet. Technically I wouldn't be working. I'd just be out for an evening walk, and if I happened to come across any fae, even a possible ancient or whatever, then it wouldn't be my fault.
With that thought circling around, I changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt Tink had ordered for me a few months back. It was black with a drunken fairy on it. Leave it to Tink to find that shirt online . . . and buy it with my money.
I strapped a dagger inside my boot and tugged the hem of my jeans down. I twisted my hair into a knot, securing it with a thick bobby pin. Tink was nowhere to be found when I entered the kitchen and pulled my textbooks out of my bag, making the backpack lighter.
I headed to the closed bedroom door and rapped my knuckles on it. "Tink?"