Torn
Page 23
Did he know there were fae that were . . . good? How could he not have brought that up at some point? I squeezed my eyes shut as I dropped my hand. He was a part of the Elite, and they probably had access to all kinds of information we normal and not so cool members didn’t. And could I get mad at him for not telling me? All things considered, probably not.
Good fae? I laughed under my breath and opened my eyes. How could that theory be so surprising? I lived with a creature of the Otherworld—a brownie. Tink was annoying. He was expensive, and he had this horrible habit of not being exactly forthcoming with information, but he wasn’t evil. Before I met him, I’d assumed that all creatures from the Otherworld were bad. Obviously I had been wrong. So it could be possible that there were fae who were like . . . like humans.
I had so many questions though. Without feeding, how did they use glamour to hide their appearance? From what we knew of the fae, they had to feed to use their magic. Were we fed false information?
I’d asked Tink about good fae when I got home. He’d been busy on my computer, creating If Daryl Dies We Riot memes. He’d genuinely appeared confused by my line of questioning. According to my pint-sized roommate, all fae were bad. There was no such thing as a good fae.
Something had occurred to me while I’d watched him concentrate, the white glare from my computer lighting up his face. “Do you ever leave this house, Tink? Go anywhere?”
He’d frowned up at me like I’d asked him why I should watch The Walking Dead. “Why would I leave? This place has everything I need, and if it doesn’t, I can order it from Amazon.” He’d paused. “Though, on second thought, we could use a live-in chef, because you can’t cook for shit.”
I’d left the conversation at that point.
So there was a good chance, if Tink was being honest, that he hadn’t been out to possibly figure out that there were good fae. I thought about the day I’d stopped over at Brighton and Merle’s looking for them and saw what I’d first believed was another brownie. I’d caught a glimpse of translucent wings. I’d chalked it up to me seeing things, but now I wasn’t so sure.
I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
But what changed with the Order? And why was it buried so effectively, that a few decades later, no one even knew about it with the exception of the older members?
All this thinking was giving me a headache.
Flopping onto my back, I flung my arms out to the side and lay there until I heard a key turning in the front door. I didn’t move an inch. My bedroom door was halfway open, so I knew he spotted me the moment he entered. Or spotted half of me.
A few seconds later, my bedroom door creaked open and I heard a low, sexy rumble of a chuckle. “What in the world are you doing?”
I threw my hands up in the universal I-have-no-clue gesture. His footsteps approached the bed and then he came into view. His wavy hair was wet and the shoulders of his shirt were damp. It must have started raining at some point.
“You look weirdly adorable right now.” He put his right knee on the bed and planted his left hand beside my head. “Though I have a question.”
“About what?”
“Why are you wearing shorts and knee socks?” He leaned over, caging me in. “Why not just wear pants?”
I arched a brow. “First off, I’m not really wearing shorts, shorts. I’m wearing sleep shorts.”
“And there’s a difference how?” he asked as he lowered his head and kissed my cheek.
“There’s a difference.” I waited as he kissed my other cheek. “Secondly, the socks are comfortable and they’re fuzzy, which makes them better than pants.”
“Okay.” He chuckled again, kissing my forehead.
“And finally, it’s the perfect combination. I’m not too hot or too cold,” I explained.
“Whatever you say.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “All I know is that I’m going to love pulling them off you later. With my teeth.”
My eyes widened and my stomach dipped, the muscles there tightening. My body really loved the sound of that. His mouth was now aiming for mine, and I knew if I let him kiss me, he would be taking all my clothes off with his teeth, and unfortunately for my libido, I couldn’t let any of that happen. Yet.
I placed my hands on his chest, and when I spoke, my lips brushed his. “There’s something we need to talk about first.”
“Okay.” His tongue flicked out, tracing my bottom lip and causing me to suck in an unsteady breath. “Are we going to talk about how your breasts feel abandoned? Because I’ve been planning all day to rectify that.” He cupped my left breast and his thumb swiped over my nipple. “No bra? Perfect.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, I called on every ounce of willpower I had and said, “Merle is missing.”
His mouth hovered over mine. “What?”
“And she left all these journals and paperwork behind, some dating back several decades.”
“Uh-huh.” His thumb made another pass.
My toes curled. “And in those journals she lists names of the previous sect leaders and—” I gasped when he plucked the hard nub through the thin cotton of my shirt. “And she detailed how the Order used to work alongside the fae.”
Ren’s hand stilled, and I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad about that. Slowly he rose up a little so I could see his face. “Come again?” he said.
Good fae? I laughed under my breath and opened my eyes. How could that theory be so surprising? I lived with a creature of the Otherworld—a brownie. Tink was annoying. He was expensive, and he had this horrible habit of not being exactly forthcoming with information, but he wasn’t evil. Before I met him, I’d assumed that all creatures from the Otherworld were bad. Obviously I had been wrong. So it could be possible that there were fae who were like . . . like humans.
I had so many questions though. Without feeding, how did they use glamour to hide their appearance? From what we knew of the fae, they had to feed to use their magic. Were we fed false information?
I’d asked Tink about good fae when I got home. He’d been busy on my computer, creating If Daryl Dies We Riot memes. He’d genuinely appeared confused by my line of questioning. According to my pint-sized roommate, all fae were bad. There was no such thing as a good fae.
Something had occurred to me while I’d watched him concentrate, the white glare from my computer lighting up his face. “Do you ever leave this house, Tink? Go anywhere?”
He’d frowned up at me like I’d asked him why I should watch The Walking Dead. “Why would I leave? This place has everything I need, and if it doesn’t, I can order it from Amazon.” He’d paused. “Though, on second thought, we could use a live-in chef, because you can’t cook for shit.”
I’d left the conversation at that point.
So there was a good chance, if Tink was being honest, that he hadn’t been out to possibly figure out that there were good fae. I thought about the day I’d stopped over at Brighton and Merle’s looking for them and saw what I’d first believed was another brownie. I’d caught a glimpse of translucent wings. I’d chalked it up to me seeing things, but now I wasn’t so sure.
I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
But what changed with the Order? And why was it buried so effectively, that a few decades later, no one even knew about it with the exception of the older members?
All this thinking was giving me a headache.
Flopping onto my back, I flung my arms out to the side and lay there until I heard a key turning in the front door. I didn’t move an inch. My bedroom door was halfway open, so I knew he spotted me the moment he entered. Or spotted half of me.
A few seconds later, my bedroom door creaked open and I heard a low, sexy rumble of a chuckle. “What in the world are you doing?”
I threw my hands up in the universal I-have-no-clue gesture. His footsteps approached the bed and then he came into view. His wavy hair was wet and the shoulders of his shirt were damp. It must have started raining at some point.
“You look weirdly adorable right now.” He put his right knee on the bed and planted his left hand beside my head. “Though I have a question.”
“About what?”
“Why are you wearing shorts and knee socks?” He leaned over, caging me in. “Why not just wear pants?”
I arched a brow. “First off, I’m not really wearing shorts, shorts. I’m wearing sleep shorts.”
“And there’s a difference how?” he asked as he lowered his head and kissed my cheek.
“There’s a difference.” I waited as he kissed my other cheek. “Secondly, the socks are comfortable and they’re fuzzy, which makes them better than pants.”
“Okay.” He chuckled again, kissing my forehead.
“And finally, it’s the perfect combination. I’m not too hot or too cold,” I explained.
“Whatever you say.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “All I know is that I’m going to love pulling them off you later. With my teeth.”
My eyes widened and my stomach dipped, the muscles there tightening. My body really loved the sound of that. His mouth was now aiming for mine, and I knew if I let him kiss me, he would be taking all my clothes off with his teeth, and unfortunately for my libido, I couldn’t let any of that happen. Yet.
I placed my hands on his chest, and when I spoke, my lips brushed his. “There’s something we need to talk about first.”
“Okay.” His tongue flicked out, tracing my bottom lip and causing me to suck in an unsteady breath. “Are we going to talk about how your breasts feel abandoned? Because I’ve been planning all day to rectify that.” He cupped my left breast and his thumb swiped over my nipple. “No bra? Perfect.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, I called on every ounce of willpower I had and said, “Merle is missing.”
His mouth hovered over mine. “What?”
“And she left all these journals and paperwork behind, some dating back several decades.”
“Uh-huh.” His thumb made another pass.
My toes curled. “And in those journals she lists names of the previous sect leaders and—” I gasped when he plucked the hard nub through the thin cotton of my shirt. “And she detailed how the Order used to work alongside the fae.”
Ren’s hand stilled, and I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad about that. Slowly he rose up a little so I could see his face. “Come again?” he said.
