Wicked
Page 32

 Jennifer L. Armentrout

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Across the woman's chest, the veins leading to her heart looked as if they were infused with black ink. When a fae fed off a human for an extended period of time, it poisoned their blood and polluted their mind.
And apparently made them want to bite people.
Val let go of her shirt. "Such a waste."
The woman was past the point of no return. Once the veins turned, that was it. There was no coming back from it. She would die, probably by tonight or tomorrow, and those darkened veins would fade quickly afterwards, leaving no oddities on the body. Toxicology reports would show no drugs, and death would usually be ruled as some sort of heart failure.
"Shit." Ren's golden skin was a shade lighter as he leaned back, withdrawing his hands. My gaze moved to the man. His chest was still and his eyes wide and unseeing. Heaviness surrounded my heart. He was gone.
Ren's shoulders rose as he looked over and our eyes met. Shadows crept into them, dulling the green hue. Rising fluidly, he turned and walked toward those standing near the curb. People parted and he disappeared behind them.
I started toward him then stopped, turning back to Val. "You didn't go on your date," I said.
She raised her chin and a weak smile formed. "Couldn't find anyone else to cover, but there's always later tonight." She glanced in the direction Ren had gone. "You need to track down the new hottie?"
"Yeah," I said, stepping around the prone woman. "You got this?"
Val nodded. "Don't forget, we need to talk."
"I haven't." Wiggling my fingers, I went after Ren, aware of the curious looks. It was a good thing to disappear before the police showed because of all the questions. Val would do the same once they had the woman secured. It worried me that she would be in police custody, dangerous until her body gave out, but there was nothing I could do once they carted her away unless I put the woman out of her misery.
And I couldn't do that—some could, but not me.
David once told me that it was a weakness, one that I needed to work on overcoming. He hadn't been a total jerk about it, just matter of fact.
Over the top of the crowd moving both ways on the uneven sidewalk, I saw Ren's coffee colored waves, and then he appeared to vanish. What the hell? I picked up my pace, breaking into a jog. I passed a bar then saw him.
He was in a narrow alley, kneeling by an outdoor spigot, washing the blood from his hands. It pooled on the dirtied ground in a murky puddle.
He didn't look up as I approached him. "It doesn't get easier," he said, rubbing his hands together. "You'd think eventually that it would, but it doesn't."
I didn't respond because there was nothing to say. Not being able to save someone and watching them die? Yeah, it never got easier.
Sighing heavily, he turned off the spigot and stood, wiping his hands along the front of his jeans. A wavy lock fell across his forehead and into his eyes. "That man back there? When he got up this morning, he probably thought he was coming home tonight."
"Probably," I whispered, not even sure he heard me over the partygoers on the street and sidewalk.
Ren lifted his chin to the small balconies above. "He had no idea."
"No."
Shoulders tensing, he lowered his chin and met my gaze. Several moments passed and neither of us said anything. The world outside the alley washed away, all the noise retreating to a distant hum. The sorrow in his expression was palpable, and I knew he felt the stranger's death in a way most Order members didn't. Not that they didn't care about a human loss, but when you were surrounded by so much death, you not only expected it but became a part of it. 
Without giving myself time to really think about what I was doing, I stepped forward and reached out, wrapping my hand around his damp one. His eyes flared back to life with surprise. Feeling warmth in my cheeks, I squeezed his hand then let go.
His gaze traveled over my face then flicked up. He grabbed me by the shoulders, jolting me. I gasped out of shock as he pulled me against his chest and turned, pressing me toward the building.
Not even a second later, a blue and white moped flew down the alley, moving so quickly the force created a sharp burst of wind. Eyes wide, I watched it breach the entrance on the other side, hanging a sharp right.
"Oh my God, I . . . I almost got run over by a moped," I said, turning my bewildered stare back on Ren. "That would've been so embarrassing to be taken out by one of them."
His lips twitched as his striking features softened. "Good thing you have me around, saving you from reckless moped drivers."
"You're a hero," I replied.
Ren laughed, and I felt a measure of satisfaction at hearing the sound. Although I'd only known him for a short period of time, I hadn't liked the burden etched into his features. It didn't seem right on him.
He drew in a deep breath, and mine caught. In that moment, I realized we were chest-to-chest, so close I thought I could feel his pounding heart, but it might've been mine. Probably was mine, but there wasn't an inch of space between our bodies, and unlike the last time we were like this, I was so not feeling anger.
His arms draped loosely around my waist, and a heady warmth trilled through my veins. I stared at the vee of skin exposed above the collar of his shirt and realized dimly that my hands were on his chest. I had no idea how they got there. They had a mind of their own. That headiness dropped low in my belly, tightening muscles that had been on vacation for a fairly long amount of time.