Desert Tales: A Wicked Lovely Companion Novel

Rika, however, could see the faeries watching; several were now sitting in postures akin to gargoyles. They perched and watched her. She knew that their irritation was a result of Keenan’s meddling in the desert, but she had no idea what to do about it. Later, she’d talk to Sionnach, but for now, all she could do was get away from the mortals, draw the surly faeries’ attention away from them.

Jayce frowned. “It felt like a gust or . . . maybe the edge gave . . .” He shook his head and proceeded to do what mortals typically did when confronted with the impossible: he created plausible explanations. Then, he added, “It doesn’t matter.”

One of the faeries waved at Rika, and she tensed. Jayce’s back was to them; all of his attention was fixed on her. There had been days during which she was invisibly at his side and wanted this very thing, but now that he was looking so intently at her, she wanted to flee. Behind him, the faeries watched too attentively, not actively threatening her or the humans but observing everything so carefully. It had been selfish of her to let on that she cared for the mortals; she saw that now.

And it was selfish of Keenan to come here.

It didn’t matter though. Solitary faeries could not strike a king, but they could strike her or the humans. As calmly as she was able, she told Jayce, “I’m not angry; I’m not hurt. I just need to go.”

“Let me give you a ride. We can get you checked out. . . . I fell on you.” Jayce was trying to comfort her, even though he was the one bleeding and injured. Much like he cared for meandering tortoises or wounded birds, he tried to nurture her too. “Please wait?” he asked.

The gentle tone in his voice made it impossible to resist. He was injured because of her attention, and even though she feared that her presence there beside him would make it worse, she couldn’t refuse the plea in his voice. She took a step toward him, but almost faltered when he smiled at her. Seeing that smile actually directed at her was more heart-stopping than she could’ve imagined.

Quickly, she forced her gaze downward, but then blanched at the sight of his injury. He was ignoring it because he was more concerned with her well-being, but she couldn’t tell him that she was completely uninjured, that it would take far more than catching a falling boy to hurt her. Instead she said, “I’ll wait if you bind that. Sit down.”

“What’s your name?” He was still standing, as if he was unsure whether she’d dart away or not. “I’m Jayce.”

“Rika,” she said as she walked over to collect the rucksack that Del had tossed down.

Several of the fairies on the cliff scrabbled down; others stayed at the edge, kicking their feet in the air. Maili had apparently joined them on the cliff while Rika’s attention was on Jayce.

“What do you think he’d do if he saw us?” Maili taunted. “What if he knew what you were?”

A few of the faeries pelted Rika with rocks, mostly small, but a few larger stones were tossed at her.

Rika didn’t back away from them despite the sudden rock shower. The rocks hurt, but not enough that it made her react. After years of carrying snow and ice inside a body not created for such things, it took far more than rocks to cause her to wince.

Jayce, however, couldn’t see the faeries. All he saw were rocks falling. He called out from the ground where he was now kneeling, “Be careful.”

“I’m fine.” She scowled pointedly up at Maili. “It’s a little unstable up there. Maybe it needs to be knocked down.”

“Do you really think you can ‘knock down’ all of us, Rika?” Maili’s smile grew wide with glee, no doubt thrilled to finally get Rika’s temper stirred. “I’d love for you to try. . . .”

Undaunted, Rika smiled at her just as she’d smiled at Keenan earlier; today, she wouldn’t object to a challenge.

Maili stilled, unaccustomed to seeing Rika ready to fight, but she didn’t move toward Rika. As she had so many times, the solitary faery postured and antagonized, but she never actually started the competition she seemed to want.

Rika mouthed, “You’d lose.”

“C’mon, Rika. What’s say we have at it? Just us . . . and you,” Maili said.

If she were truly strong enough to challenge Rika, she wouldn’t need to surround herself with faeries who toadied for her approval. A true contender for Alpha should be able to act as an individual, should be strong enough to be truly solitary. Maili only played at being a legitimate challenger.

“Rika? Do you see something up there?” Jayce asked from behind her.

Rika held Maili’s gaze and said levelly, “Nothing important.”

Then she turned her back to Maili and the rest of the faeries.

“You’re making a mistake,” Maili called. Rocks and a fine cloud of sand showered down around Rika.

Rika ignored the faery and the debris, looking instead at Jayce, who had taken off his bloodied shirt, baring a well-defined chest and sculpted abs. The shirt he’d had on was balled up in his lap, and she forced herself to look at the bloody clothing instead of at his bare skin. She had to remind herself that he’d already bled because she was interested in him. She’d caused that. No good came of faeries wooing mortals. When she’d been mortal, a faery’s attention had cost her everything. Now, she’d already cost Jayce pain.

She kept her expression blank as she calmly walked to Jayce’s side and handed him the rucksack.

He looked at the sand in her hair and on her skin and shook his head. “You’re a strange girl, Rika.”

She sat down near him, but not too closely. It was silly to react so strongly to the bare skin he’d exposed. She’d lived among faeries for longer than he’d lived, but she was still shy. She’d never surrendered the mortal sensibility she’d had forever ago—or maybe it was simply that she liked him. He’d certainly stripped off his shirt where she could see him before, but every other time, she’d been invisible to him. It was harder to hide her appreciative glances when he could actually see her. If he did notice, though, he didn’t remark on it.

“When cliffs start tumbling on you, you might want to move away from the falling sand and rocks,” he said in a light tone.

He leaned over and brushed sand off of her shoulder and biceps. It wasn’t in any way affectionate, but she tensed. She swallowed, watching his hand intently as it touched her skin. She wasn’t sure she could recall the last time anyone had touched her so casually. Keenan’s touches were never casual, nor were Sionnach’s very rare moments of contact. There was always intent, meaning, so much that was hidden under what was meant to be casual but never truly was. Jayce, however, was only being kind.

When he withdrew his hand, she was trembling as if she were the human girl she appeared to be. Her voice came out very softly and tentatively when she said, “I . . . I wasn’t in danger. It was just a few rocks.”

He paused, almost imperceptibly, but she’d studied him often enough that she noticed. After a breath, he said, “Feeling invincible? A good scare will do that, won’t it?”

Rika made an agreeing noise.

Jayce pulled a wipe out of the rucksack and wiped the blood and sand from his arm. “But rocks falling like that can mean a bigger one is coming down too.”

She ignored the topic at hand. She wanted to talk to him, but the faery inability to lie was making her feel tongue-tied. The age-old tradition among faeries was to use omission and misdirection when avoiding truths, as Keenan had done, but she’d spoken so often to Jayce when he was unaware of her presence that she’d rather skip any topic altogether than misdirect.

“Do you need help?” she blurted.

“I’m good.” He bound his arm, wrapping the bandage around it tightly. “I was up there for a while. You’d think I’d have seen you down here, but it was like you just appeared out of empty air. . . .” His words trailed off as he stared at her as if he was looking at her as her, not a girl he fell on. He smiled at her again like she’d dreamed he one day would.

The temptation was too much: she gave in and touched his arm, not a caress, but contact. “Don’t stand so close to the edge next time, okay? Please.”

He said nothing. Her hand was on his skin, and they were both motionless, staring at each other.

“But I wasn’t too close—” He glanced at her hand, and then back at her. “I know this might sound crazy after I fell and just about crushed you, but do you want to do something later?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The last time anyone had shown romantic interest in her