Torn

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Brighton wet her lips then swallowed hard. Her knuckles on the hand holding her glass were bleached white. “She hasn’t been sleeping a lot since the gate was opened. Maybe an hour a night, and I would wake and hear her pacing in her bedroom, murmuring to herself about how it wasn’t safe here anymore. At first, I wasn’t too concerned. It may not be safe for anyone since the knights and the prince came through the gate, but three days ago it changed. She started talking about these places where the fair folk lived.”

  My brows rose. Fair folk was another name for fae, one not commonly used outside of people who believed in fairy tales. “Was she talking about the Otherworld?”

  “That’s what I thought at first, but she started talking about communities, and I realized she was talking about here, in our world.”

  I frowned, not following the importance of that. The fae that had crossed over into our realms lived among humans. Hell, there could be one living a block from here.

  “I know what you’re thinking, and I thought the same thing. That she was just talking about the fae.” Brighton coughed out a stressed, hoarse laugh. “Then this morning she came downstairs with all these papers and told me that it was no longer safe for her or me to be here. I tried to calm her down, but nothing was working. She was in a fit.” Lifting the glass to her mouth, she downed the contents in one impressive gulp. “She was saying that the Order couldn’t stop the knights and the prince. That only the fae could, and the Order knew that.”

  I watched Brighton walk to the other side of the table. “I should’ve followed her immediately when she went outside, but I didn’t. Maybe five minutes passed, and when I went to check, she wasn’t in the courtyard. I searched all the nearby streets. It’s been decades since she’s gotten in a cab. She was just . . . gone. You know she couldn’t have gotten that far, but she was gone, Ivy.”

  Okay. Unless Merle called an Uber, which was unlikely, that was very weird.

  “When I came back in, I saw these journals, and once I picked them up and started reading them, I couldn’t stop. If you look at them, you’ll understand why.” She placed her glass down on the table then reached over, picking up a leather-bound journal. “You need to read this.”

  I reached over the table and took the journal from her. The thing was old, the leather worn and soft, and the paper had a faint yellow tint. I turned it around and started reading as Brighton started walking back and forth.

  At first, none of it really made sense. It was like picking up a book and starting it in the middle, but as I turned the pages and kept reading, things started to piece together.

  Disbelief flooded me as I really started to make sense of what I was reading. “My God,” I whispered, staring at the journal. “This can’t be . . .”

  Brighton stopped pacing and crossed her arms. “That’s what I thought too, but my mom’s not that crazy. They’re not the rantings of a lunatic.”

  “I know she’s not, but this is . . . it would be insane.” I reread the lines again, recognizing names of past Sect leaders—names connected with other names I didn’t recognize, but attached to dates of when they’d either crossed over into our world or had been born into ours. I sat down in the chair before I fell down. “No, not insane but unheard of.”

  “But not impossible,” Brighton said, dropping into the seat across from me. “You know nothing is really impossible.”

  She was right about that, but this . . . this was beyond something any of us had ever imagined. If what was in this journal was true, then my world had just been blown to bits all over again.

  Because what I was reading stated that there were fae who lived in our world—fae that did not feed on humans.

  Fae that had worked alongside the Order in the past.

  Chapter Eight

  I sat back in the chair. I was currently knee-deep in a stunned daze as I flipped back a couple of pages to where the names of past Sect leaders were listed. It stopped about two decades ago, on Lafayette Burgos. The other names listed beside the Sect leaders I assumed were fae, based on the bizarre nature of some of the names.

  “There are good fae,” Brighton said, and my gaze shot to her pale face. “I’m almost too frightened to even suggest that. As if an Order member will appear out of nowhere and accuse me of treason against my own kind.” She laughed again as she glanced up at the ceiling. “But if you keep reading, that’s what you’ll see. Fae who came into our world, but decided not to feed off humans. They lived normal lifespans, much like our own. They worked alongside Order members in the past.”

  My thoughts were wheeling as I started flipping through the journal. Entries were meticulously dated, detailing investigations, searches, and even kills. Many of the entries included the names of Order members and the fae they worked alongside.

  Brighton reached across the table and picked up a deep blue journal, a much thinner one than the journal I’d been looking at. “My mother took detailed accounts of everything. I’m not even exaggerating. I had no idea she had all of this hidden away. This book lists all the members of the Order, up until when she . . . when she left.” She placed it on the table. “I got curious and checked on some of the names associated with the fae. Some of them are still alive but have moved out of the city. But there is one still around. Jerome.”

  “Holy . . .” I couldn’t even begin to picture Jerome working with a fae. It went against everything I knew about him. “If this is true, why has this been hidden—erased from history?” I asked. “Why wouldn’t this be something known?”

  “I don’t know.” She gestured at a dozen or so journals and a stack of loose sheets of paper scattered across the table. “There’s a good chance that there’s some sort of explanation in there, but as of right now, I have no idea.”

  I sat forward, resting my elbows on the table as I dragged both hands through my hair, holding the curls back from my face. I opened my mouth but had no idea what to say.

  A sympathetic look pinched Brighton’s features. “I know you’re already dealing with a lot, but I didn’t know who else to go to. You’ve always been so patient and understanding with my mom. She trusts you. I trust you.”

  I nodded and drew in a deep breath. Neither of them would trust me if they knew the truth, but that was neither here nor there. I scanned the table as I collected my thoughts. Okay. First things first. “Do you have any idea where she could’ve gone?”

  “Before she left, she told me it wasn’t safe any longer and that she was going to them. I didn’t know what she meant at first,” Brighton explained. “But I think she was going to them—to these fae who don’t feed on humans.”

  Other than how absolutely crazy that sounded, I wondered why Merle would leave Brighton behind if she felt things were no longer safe. That didn’t sound like Merle at all. No matter what kind of mental state she was in, her daughter was always a priority. There was more to this than we knew.

  A hell of a lot more, I thought as I stared at all the journals. “So do we have any idea of where these . . . good fae could be living?”

  “Maybe.” Brighton reached over, choosing a longer and wider journal. “This one has maps of the city, places marked where hunts have been carried out and locations of kills. I’m hoping there’s something in there. It’s just going to take a little bit to search through it. Not like I can skip a page.”

  “Are there anymore like that?”

  “Not that I’ve found.” She placed the journal in front of her, then pressed her fingers to her mouth. “There was something else she said before she left.”

  At this point, I had no idea what to expect. “What?”

  Her cornflower-blue eyes met mine. “Before she left, she told me to contact that young man Ivy brought with her. Ren? She said Ren would know what to do.”

  ~

  Ren would know what to do.

  Back at my apartment, I sat cross-legged on my bed and stared at the journal Brighton had allowed me to take. I’d
spent the last couple of hours reading through it, and if any of this was fake, it was an extremely well put together hoax, spanning decades.

  “It’s not a hoax,” I whispered, reaching up and tucking a stray curl behind my ear. I was convinced that this crap was true or that Merle believed it to be true, and she had believed that for years, well before she was captured by the fae.

  Closing the journal, I glanced at the clock as I rubbed the back of my neck. It was a little before one in the morning. Ren would be here soon. I’d texted him when I got back to my place, but I hadn’t mentioned anything about Brighton or Merle. I figured that would be a conversation to have in person.

  Ren would know what to do.

  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.

  “And talks about how there are actually . . . good fae—fae that don’t feed on humans.”

  He blinked slowly. “Are you high?”

  “I wish,” I muttered, hoping his reaction was genuine. “But if you let go of my boob I can show you.”

  Ren hesitated. “Do I really need to let go of your boob?”

  I stared at him.

  A dimple appeared in his right cheek and he slowly, finger by finger, removed his hand. “Okay. What exactly are you talking about?”

  “It’s all in the journal that’s about an inch from your knee.”

  His gaze flickered over my face and then he tilted his head to the side. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  Frowning, Ren leaned over and snatched up the journal. He sat beside me, book in hand. “You said Merle is missing?”

  I sat up. “Yeah, Brighton called me after we had dinner. She said that her mom hadn’t been acting right since the gate was opened, more so than normal, and this morning she must’ve come downstairs with all these journals and stuff.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “She told Brighton it was no longer safe for her and then left. When Brighton went to look for her about five minutes later, Merle was just gone. She checked several of the surrounding blocks and there was no sign of her.”

  “Is it possible she hailed—”

  “It’s possible, but not likely. Anyway, when Brighton came back inside, she started looking at all the stuff—including the journal—and that’s when she called me. I skimmed through it then brought it home. I’ve been reading the stuff for hours, and Ren . . . I think it’s real.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “Ivy, there aren’t fae who don’t feed off humans.”

  “According to that book, there are.”

  His brows knitted together. “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but Merle struggles—”
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  “Yes, she struggles, but this stuff has been chronicled for decades, Ren, before she was caught by the fae.” I scooted onto my knees and reached around him, taking the book from his hands. “Trust me, I didn’t believe it at first—couldn’t believe it, but look at this.” I opened the book to an entry made in the seventies and turned it over. “Read this and pay attention to the date.”

  His gaze held mine for a few beats and then he looked down at the book. I knew which part he was reading. It was a joint mission between the Order and the fae, where they helped locate several teenage humans who’d been kidnapped by other fae. I remembered the good fae’s names—Handoc, Alena, and Phineas. Of course, the last name made me think of Phineas and Ferb. Ha.

  Ren’s mouth opened and snapped shut. He gave a little shake of his head. “I . . .”

  Smirking, I reached over and flipped the pages to the list of names. “Take a look at this. List of Order members who apparently co-hunted with fae.”

  He scanned the page. “I . . .”