Bloody damned women. Why the hell can’t she just leave me be? She sure as hell expected me to leave her alone, didn’t she?
And now, even though I asked her to leave, I can feel her out there, the ink on my arms reacting to her nearness. It’s a soul bond I’ve heard very little about and one I never wanted to experience.
I tug on some sweats and a t-shirt then head out into my living room where she waits, her gorgeous body looking entirely too fucking delicious on the dark cushions of my couch.
“Still here, then? Who’s stalking who now?” I head into the kitchen and purposely only retrieve one bottle of water. Then I return to the living room and sit down on the opposite side of my sectional.
“You’ve decided to stick with the whole asshole thing, then?”
“Why change what works? What the hell do you want, Rachel? You made it pretty damned clear you want nothing to do with me.”
“That was before—” she starts but trails off, closing her eyes tightly as though she’s struggling to form the words.
Her beauty—never in my life have I ever met a woman who pulls at every part of me. Her beauty, strength, shit—the proverbial balls on this woman—she’s the complete package, and it takes all of my self-restraint not to slide to my knees and beg her to give me a chance.
That’s not who I am, though. I do not beg. I will not beg.
“Before what?”
Her eyes open, and I suck in a breath. The connection between us is as volatile as dynamite, that’s for damn sure. “Bronywyn told me that you had to pay a price to bring me back.”
Fucking witches. Always meddling where they shouldn’t be. “I did.”
“What was it?”
“You’re not stupid.”
Her cheeks flush red, and I wish I could go back and say it again just to watch the color show for the first time. “No. I’m not. But I don’t know enough about this—” She gestures between us. “—to be able to answer that question for myself.”
I know she’s right, but on top of being arrogant, I’m sadistic as fuck, and seeing her pissed off at me is easier than the look of pity she was giving me a moment ago. “The Veil took a piece of my soul,” I explain, not bothering to pull punches. Better she knows exactly what she’s getting into.
Rachel’s mouth falls slack and she gapes at me. “Your soul?”
“Yes. And to compensate, they linked us together. Permanently. For me, anyway. I’m pretty sure you can still do whatever the hell you want.”
“The ink.” She gestures to the tattoos on her creamy skin and then to the ones on my arms.
“Yes. We are soul-marked. Your soul recognizes mine because it’s literally what’s keeping me alive.”
“Wait a damned minute.” She shuts her eyes tightly and shakes her head. “Keeping you alive like Bronywyn’s link to Tarnley?”
“Exactly like that. Though, our bond cannot be broken with a redirect spell.” Because I’m so damned uncomfortable with the fact that I am practically telling her she owns me, I push to my feet. “Water?”
“Sure. Thanks.” She remains silent, sitting on my couch as she stares blankly ahead at the fireplace in the corner.
Shock? Awe? I’m pretty sure my revelation brought both to the table.
After grabbing another bottle of water, I turn and head back to the living room and offer it to her. I try not to hate the fact that she doesn’t look at me when she takes it.
Minutes tick by in complete silence. Every part of me yearns to close the distance between us and show her just how good we can be, but I don’t dare move. I may be an asshole, but I know the changes she’s facing right now require some massive processing.
“So I was right then?” She whispers it, the words barely audible.
“About what?”
When she turns toward me and I see the unshed tears in her eyes, I want to rip my own heart out and offer it to her on a silver fucking platter. Hers to keep, hers to destroy. “I lost all choice in my future. I have no control over anything. Again.” Rachel covers her face with both hands as her shoulders shake.
Because I literally—even after however the fuck long I’ve been alive—I still cannot tolerate a woman crying, I let go of my pride and kneel before her. “You lost control of nothing,” I promise.
“I did. We’re tied to each other, Ridley. Permanently. Forever.”
“No.”
She looks up at me now, eyes glistening.
“I am tied to you,” I confirm. “Not the other way around.”
“That means—”
“It means nothing. I’m fine. Just don’t die, and neither will I.” Hoping it will calm her down, I flash a smile, but because I can’t help myself, I also reach up and tuck stray strands of hair behind her ears.
She freezes at my touch, mouth falling slack, gaze bearing straight through me. “I don’t know you.”
“I know that.”
“And to be honest, your first impression sucked.”
“Well, since we’re being honest, you caught me off guard,” I tell her. “Never, in a million years, did I think my magic would bond with anyone, especially not some puny human.” I grin again, hoping she’ll recognize the joke in my words.
And thankfully, she does. “Well, I didn’t ever think I’d cross paths with an arrogant fairy bastard, so I guess we were both wrong.”
“Again, not a fairy. As I said, note the lack of glitter.”
“And I was not a puny human. Note the ability to drop three vampires.” She returns my smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. Then, finally, she takes a deep breath. “Okay. Enough pity party for me. I am what I am now, and I am grateful that you brought me back.”
The lump in my throat grows substantially. “You’re welcome.”
“So I’m a fae.”
“Yes.”
“Can you teach me what I can do?”
Her innocence in that moment, her openness, it soothes a part of me I hadn’t realized was damaged. “Absolutely.”
The joy in her smile is blinding. She holds out a hand. “Friends?”
I take it instantly, knowing it might be the only contact I get from her, while also realizing being nothing more than her friend will likely torture me until the end of time. “Friends.” Our gazes hold, and my heart hammers in my chest. This physical reaction, it’s new to me. Sure, I’ve lusted before, hell, I’ve even loved. Lucy was the closest I came—before I realized how crazy she was—to having genuine affection for anyone but Flora.
What I feel for Rachel, though, it surpasses anything I have ever felt for anyone else. “When do you have to go back to work?” I ask as I pull my hand back.
“I don’t actually know. Thanks for telling them I was sick, by the way.”
“You’re welcome. I had to glamour myself and answer a Facetime call, by the way.”
She blinks rapidly. “You did what?”
“Serena Facetimed you, and I answered it—as you. A few days before I found you in New York. I just wanted to make sure you knew in case she said something.”
She looks genuinely stunned, and it’s so damned adorable I have to get up off the floor and put some distance between us. “Thanks,” she says.
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, Ridley?”
I turn back toward her. “What?”
“Where is Faerie?”
I smile, feeling like finally, my life might actually start making sense. “I’ll show it to you when you’re ready.” When you care for me as much as I do you, I’ll take you there and show you where I come from, mate.
The moment the world around me comes into view, I grin wildly at Fearghas. He offers me a nod then continues sipping coffee in the booth he frequents at Eira’s. It’s ridiculous, the amount of time he spends here, but I get it now.
Because I want to be around Rachel all the damned time, even if she only wants to see me occasionally.
“What has you all chipper this morning?” he asks as I slide into the booth across from him.
“Rachel and I had a nice chat.”
“Oh?”
“I’m going to train her to use her abilities.”
“Nice.”
“I think it will be, and it will give my master plan time to work.”
“What master plan is that?”
“I am going to make her fall in love with me.”
That gets his attention. He sits up straighter and grips his coffee mug. “Fall in love with you? Really? That’s your big plan?”
“It is. Unlike you, I don’t want to spend eternity alone.”
“And you think I do? Shit, I’m trying over here.”
“Your subtly is an art, my friend. But it’s not going to get the girl.”
“Subtle? Really? My intentions couldn’t be more apparent if I hired an orchestra and sung my feelings to Eira.”
I snort, the mental image bringing me a shit ton of joy. “That would be a sight.”
“One day,” he says wistfully. “When the time is right, she’ll see.”
To be honest, I’m not an overly soft person. But seeing the pain in my friend’s eyes, it hurts me a bit. Of course, I won’t fucking admit it to anyone. The last thing I need is people discovering I have actual real feelings about shit. Then they’ll want to talk about them, and it will be a whole big snowball effect I’d much rather avoid.
“I agree with you,” I tell him. “Now. Where should I start with Rachel?”
“You’re coming to me to ask for advice? Really?”
“Who the hell else am I going to ask?”
He stares at me for a moment. “Literally anyone else. Rainey, Delaney, Elijah, Cole, Tarnley, Bronywyn—they all have better track records.”
“Perhaps. But you’re the only other fae around. You know as well as I do things are a bit different for us.”
“I guess.”
We fall into companionable silence as Fearghas stares blankly ahead. I know he’s looking for her, searching for the one who his magic has claimed. “By the way, have you told anyone?”
“Fuck, no,” he replies, knowing exactly what I’m referring to. “That’s the last damn thing I need getting out. Everyone already looks at me like I’m a sad puppy begging for scraps.”
“I mean—if the shoe fits.”
He glares at me. “You want my help, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Good. Ask Bronywyn.”
“That’s your advice?”
“She knows Rachel better than anyone. You want to win the doctor over? I’d start with her friends.”
“Good point.” I clap my hands together. “Isn’t this exciting? I’ve never done this before.”
“What?”
“Tried to woo a woman. It always just happened naturally.”
Fearghas rolls his eyes. “You might want to turn that shit down before I lose my breakfast all over this table.”
I grin at him. “Don’t be jealous, brother. Your time will come.”
“Sometimes, I very much doubt that,” he adds with a sigh as Eira walks out from the back. Their gazes meet, and for a heartbeat, I feel like an obtrusive third wheel.
But seconds later, she’s turning away, and Fearghas is redirecting his attention on the coffee mug in front of him.