Wicked
Page 28

"You are so full of threats." He dipped his head so that his cheek almost touched mine. He pointed with his other hand. "Look. Watch this car."
My heart pounded fast as I tracked where he was pointing. A black Town Car with tinted windows slowed and pulled up against the curb. Within seconds, a valet appeared out from underneath the awning, striding toward the back door.
"That better be Theo James or Jensen Ackles getting out of that car," I muttered.
Ren chuckled. "I have a feeling you're going to be disappointed."
"Figures." As long as I'd lived in New Orleans, I'd never seen a damn celebrity. It was like I wore anti-celebrity spray. "And why do you have to be so grabby? Jesus."
"I like the way you feel against me," he said.
"Ugh." I rolled my eyes, but there was a part of me, a teeny tiny part of me, that liked the way he felt.
The valet opened the back passenger door and a man stepped out. A tall man dressed in a suit that looked like it cost as much as my monthly rent. He had light brown hair and a face that would've been perfectly pieced together if it weren't for the pale, cold blue eyes.
My pulse moved faster.
The man had that deep olive complexion and high, angular cheekbones. The air around him seemed to sizzle with electricity as he buttoned the front of his jacket closed.
"He's . . .?" I couldn't bring myself to say it.
Ren's arm tightened below my breasts, and I felt his thumb swipe over my ribs. I shivered, unable to suppress it. "He's an ancient," he spoke low in my ear. "Looks like a high-powered businessman, huh?"
The dude looked as if he stepped out of GQ.
He took one step forward, his pale gaze swinging up and down the sidewalk, not stopping on us. But it stopped on a woman who was standing with a man—her boyfriend or husband I guessed based on the way her arm was wrapped around his waist. I held my breath as a scented breeze rolled down the street, way too . . . appealing for a natural aroma. It smelled like an island would smell—fruity, heavy, and sensual. The breeze was warm, teasing the senses. I'd never smelled anything like it before. I started to squirm but stopped when I realized how close Ren and I were.
The breeze picked up the woman's blonde waves, tossing them lightly. She tensed, and my breath caught as she looked over her shoulder.
I started to step forward the moment the woman's gaze landed on the ancient, but Ren held me back. "Don't," he murmured.
It went against every part of my being. I wanted to intervene, needed to, as the woman stepped away from the man she'd been with and approached the ancient as if she was walking in a daze. Sickness rolled through me as the ancient fae smiled.
I gripped his forearm. "We have to do something, Ren."
The woman was almost at the ancient's side when Ren shifted, moving in front of me and blocking what was happening. I started to step to the side, but he caught my chin, forcing my gaze to his. "I know how hard it is to stand here and let that happen, but there is nothing we can do right now. You think he would hesitate to put you down right here on the street in front of these people? He wouldn't."
"But—"
"He'll glamour everyone into thinking someone else killed you. I've seen it happen, Ivy. I've lost many of those I considered friends because they thought they could treat an ancient as a normal fae. I cannot stress enough how dangerous they are, and I don't mean this as an insult, but you are not ready to fight one of them."
Closing my eyes, I willed the anger and frustration firing up inside me to slow its roll. Ren was right. I knew that, but that didn't make it any easier. I spoke once I was sure I wasn't going to drop a bunch of F-bombs. "How did you know he would be here?"
He dropped his hand from my chin. "I've been in town for about a week, and before that suspicious look on your face grows into a lets-stab-Ren look, I checked in with David the moment my ass—my fine ass, I might add—stepped foot in the city. I spent every night hunting and found that bastard last night."
"Then you don't need someone showing you around town," I pointed out, not even bothering to hide the accusation in my tone.
"David doesn't know that, and he doesn't need to. As far as he knows, I've been hanging out. He can't know why I'm really here, Ivy."
My spine straightened as I met his hardened gaze. "Why? Why does it have to be so secretive?"
A muscle thrummed along his jaw. "Why does the Order remain a secret?"
The answer was easy. The general public would not believe us. People had to see things to truly believe in them, but that wasn't the same with us. We knew fae existed. We knew that ancients had walked this realm at one time. If enough members came forward, everyone would believe.
"Anyway," Ren continued. "Did some research on the bastard. He's registered in this hotel as a Marlon St. Cyers. Living in one of those semi-permanent suites while his new home is being built."
I frowned. "Wait. That name—he's some kind of huge developer in the city, I think."
Ren nodded. "Yeah, he is."
"Holy shit," I whispered. The fae masqueraded as humans all the time, but never one in such a public position. The fae aged much more slowly than mortals did. To us, they would appear immortal. Marlon looked like he was in his mid-thirties, but he had to be several hundred, if not more, years old. They could glamour people into thinking whatever they wanted, but with the Internet and everyone having a camera phone, and the ability to post anything to any website, technology wasn't like it was even twenty years ago. Someone would find pictures of people who didn't age. Fae existing in the public eye was risky for them.