An grá. Love. I’d looked it up the second he left. Thank you, Google Translate. Love? Really? Love?
He doesn’t even know me. And yet, I haven’t been able to get his words out of my head. Even now, as I should be preparing for my shift, he’s all I can think about.
“Freaking men,” I growl as I finish filling my mug with coffee.
“Something on your mind?”
I glance up from coffee and meet the light brown eyes of my boss. “No, sorry, just annoyed. That’s all.”
He chuckles as he fills his mug. “I get that. Poor sucker probably doesn’t realize just who he pissed off.” Leaning back against the table, he faces me.
“Huh?”
“You said ‘freaking men,’” he reminds me. “Therefore, I’m assuming it was one of my gender who pissed you off.”
“Oh, yes.” I laugh. “Sorry. A friend of mine was being an asshole.”
“Not a boyfriend, then. Good to know.”
His words catch me off guard, and I nearly choke on my coffee. I sputter, what was in my mouth either scorching my throat or coming out of my nose. In his defense, my boss doesn’t laugh. He simply hands me a napkin and watches, eyes glittering with amusement as I attempt to regain control of my faculties.
“Sorry. I—”
“I caught you off guard, I understand. I never would have said anything except, well, I’ve always found you intriguing, and now that you know what I am—” He trails off, expression falling to something close to sadness. “Let’s just say it’s rather difficult for someone like me to find anything even mildly close to romance.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
He shrugs. “Just lonely. There are very few of my kind here in Billings, and as you can imagine, not being able to explain why I don’t age is not a fun conversation.” His defeated tone makes me incredibly sad for him.
Without thinking, I reach out and touch his arm. “I can’t imagine.”
He stares down at my hand then redirects his attention up at me before swallowing hard. “Thank you. All of this is just one massive pathetic way of pitying you into dinner.”
I do belong to you. Ridley’s words choose that exact moment to pop into my head, and it’s all I can do to keep my magic from taking me to where it wants to go—wherever the hell he is. But I can’t. And I won’t.
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Not a relationship,” he replies quickly. “Just friendship? A companionable dinner? Conversation with someone other than my house cat? And yes, I know that’s weird. And, oh shit, I’m rambling.” He sets his mug down and shakes his head. “It’s just been a long time since I was able to have an honest conversation with someone.”
I don’t know whether it is because I’m so damned pissed off at Ridley or because I also could use a friendly dinner with no strings attached, but I nod. “That would be fine. As friends.”
His expression completely morphs from mild sadness to complete joy. “Great, thanks. Tonight?”
“I get off at—”
“Eight. I know.” His cheeks flush, and while it’s mildly creepy that he knew my schedule already, it is also kind of adorable.
“Eight it is,” I say with a smile.
“Great. I can’t wait.” His phone buzzes in his pocket, so he withdraws it and, after checking the screen, mutters a curse. “Shit, I have to take this. See you tonight.”
Then, he leaves me standing in the break room, knowing I likely just made a huge mistake.
The rest of my shift went by smoothly, so by eight-fifteen, I’m standing outside of the hospital—and thanks to my new ability—I managed to go home, change, and be back within five minutes. Handy little bit of magic, to be sure.
“Is it safe to approach?”
His words wash over me, and it takes a hell of a lot of willpower to not lean back into him as he comes to a stop behind me. But then I remember his words and the way his eyes watch me, and I manage to remain standing straight.
I will not be owned. And whether he wants to admit it or not, Ridley believes his magic has some kind of claim to me. Soul-bound or not, my life does not belong to anyone but me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Coming to get you so we can practice your power.”
“I don’t need your help tonight.”
“No?”
I turn to face him. “No. I have a date.”
He steps back, eyes widening, nostrils flaring. “A date.”
“Yes. With a man.”
“Any particular person I know?”
“You ready?” Max chooses that exact moment to make his presence known.
Ridley turns. “Shifter.”
Max’s eyes widen. “How do you—”
“I’m a fae, you dumbass.” He turns to me. “Really? You’re going out with a shifter?”
“Yes.” I stand my ground. He wants to keep secrets from me that have to do with my safety, then I’ll keep shit from him. It’s only fair, isn’t it?
Ridley glares at me then turns to Max. “Hurt her and I’ll fucking kill you.” He disappears.
“I didn’t realize you were so close with the fae.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Do you still want to go?”
Max’s shoulders relax. “Definitely. My car is over here.”
I follow him over to a white sedan parked in the Chief of Medicine’s spot, smiling kindly as he opens the passenger side door for me. After climbing inside, I take a few steadying deep breaths to try to calm my racing heart.
By the time Max is sliding in behind the wheel, I’ve managed to put a perfectly calm exterior in place. “So, how long have you been in Billings?” I ask as he turns on the car.
“About twelve years,” he replies. “I transferred from another hospital a few states away, tweaked my paperwork a little bit to appear younger, and, well, here we are.” He guides the car out onto the street.
“How long do you stay in one place?”
“It depends on the threat level. For obvious reasons, I avoid areas with heavy hunter traffic, so when they start piling in, I take off.”
“Not all hunters are bad though. I’ve met some good ones.”
“Trust me, they’re all bad. Varying levels, sure, but for a supernatural like me, they spell trouble.”
“Rainey’s all right.”
“For now. But mark my words, the second she thinks I’ve stepped out of line—whether I have or not—she’s coming for me.”
I don’t agree with him, though based on everything I know, I can understand why he would think that. After all, hunters are there to keep supernaturals in check. Their job is to literally put them down when they are harming humans.
“What about you?” he questions. “How did you get pulled into this world?”
“I saved a witch a few years back,” I tell him honestly. “Since then, I’ve been helping supernaturals behind the scenes, aiding in whatever medical ailments their healing abilities cannot help.”
He chuckles. “That’s a big job.”
“It is,” I agree.
“What type of ailments? I’m curious what abilities cannot heal.”
“Really, just silver-related ones. For example, I’ve removed silver arrow heads from vampires, shifters, and witches alike, and stitched up life-threatening wounds to help aid the healing process. I’ve stitched up a lot of bite wounds on witches in particular.”
His laughter grows. “I could see that; witches can be a bitchy bunch.”
“Not all of them,” I tell him, my thoughts drifting to Bronywyn and Delaney.
“Not all of them,” he agrees. “But I’ve crossed paths with more than a handful of witches who’d just as soon put me down than let me cross their path.”
“Fair enough,” I reply with an easy smile.
“Must have been a shock for you, though, to be pulled into this world at such a high capacity.”
“It was, but I’m doing good, and that’s all I care about.”
“And the fae?”
What part of I don’t want to talk about it don’t you understand? “He’s a bit more complicated.”
Max’s grin fades. “I can see that. Are you two in a relationship?”
“He thinks we are. Apparently, they can have only one mate, and he thinks that’s me,” Should I be telling Max all of this? Probably not, but he’s never been anything but kind to me ever since I came to work for the hospital and he was just a co-worker. “Anyway, as I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship.”
He lets out a low whistle. “That is a complication. Shaking a light fae, that’s not going to be easy.”
The way he says it—the tone, the wording—it bothers me. I can’t begin to explain it, but the warning bells in my brain are deafening. Especially, as something between us grows, the air charges, making my stomach churn.
What the hell is happening?
“Oh, hang on, I have something for you.” As he’s driving with one hand, he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a shiny object he cradles in his palm. Then, he reaches across and touches it to the bare skin of my hand.
The moment it touches me, pain singes my hand. It climbs up my arm, my shoulders, down my chest, back, and finally—legs. Every part of me is on fire as I arch into the seat, sweat already beading on my skin. Panic sends my mind spiraling, my stomach twisting, and I fumble for the door handle. It doesn’t budge, though.
I think of Ridley.
Of Bronywyn.
Of Rainey.
Anyone who I could dematerialize to, but nothing happens.
“Don’t bother trying to dematerialize,” Max tells me, though—it’s no longer Max.
Somehow, I manage to turn my head despite it feeling like lead. Where a handsome man once sat, there is now a black-haired woman. She turns toward me and grins widely.
“I cannot wait to play with you. We are going to have so much fun.” She reaches forward and cranks up the radio. A heavy metal band comes on as tears prick the corners of my eyes, and I regret every damned decision that brought me here.
In the hands of a dark fae, I realize my biggest mistake.