Desert Tales: A Wicked Lovely Companion Novel

The faery who’d carried the report to him was bright enough to know that there was an answer Sionnach sought and that he hadn’t delivered that answer. Still he tried. “They sit on a bench, and they sort of speak to each other.”

“Bo-ring. She’s been watching him for months, and she’s still—” Sionnach cut his own word off with a sigh. He despaired of her sometimes. After all his patience, Rika continued to thwart his plans. He needed her to come out of hiding. He’d set the bait out, all but delivered the boy to her, and still she resisted.

Mortals passed by as he pondered what to do next. There was an answer, and he’d find it. He was as clever as the fox that he resembled, and perhaps also as unscrupulous. Not quite. If he were, he’d have been even less honest with Rika. As it was, he skirted the border of lies in encouraging her interest in the boy.

As he rolled the quandary around in his mind, a mortal caught his attention. She looked a bit like Rika: short hair and a tiny frame, fierce in her posture despite her diminutive size. Unlike Rika, the mortal girl was all wrapped up in jeans and a low-cut top designed to flaunt her body. Perhaps that was what he needed to clear his mind, a mortal who looked like Rika but wasn’t likely to act like her. A flirtation would at least distract him. For all the talk of fey and mortals not mixing, there was something strangely appealing about time with mortals. Regent and solitary alike, faeries tended to be intrigued by mortals. Sionnach himself had dalliance after dalliance with them, none serious, all fleeting, but they fascinated him for long moments.

The girl paused as she noticed his attention. She smiled and then ducked her head.

Sionnach waited, watching as her gaze lifted to see if he watched her. Yes. She’ll do nicely. He didn’t look away from the new mortal as he instructed his spy, “Go threaten the boy. I’ll be along momentarily.”

The faery who’d brought the message loped off across the street, and Sionnach went to meet his newest mortal fascination.

“Carissa,” she said by way of greeting. “And you are?”

“Shy.”

“Really?” She offered him a smile that transformed her face, making her look less like Rika, but still lovely. “You don’t seem very shy.”

He ducked his head, feigning bashfulness for a moment, and was rewarded by her laughter. “It’s a pet name for that very reason,” he admitted. “I’m woefully bold, I’m afraid.”

Carissa stepped closer. “Prove it.”

This was why he appreciated mortal girls. He’d confessed that same thing to so many girls, fey and mortal alike, and he never knew what to expect of the mortals. Faeries were more predictable. In the world at large, he had only to look at their court to know how they’d respond, and here in the desert, he was their Alpha, so they wouldn’t refuse his interest—which was precisely why he didn’t woo any of them. There was no challenge if there was no risk of rejection, a stance some faeries didn’t seem to understand.

The mortal girl was staring at him boldly, so he pulled her near, lowered his lips to hers, closed his eyes, and kissed her until she was unsteady on her feet. When she pulled back several moments later, her arms were twined around his neck, and her breathy words of approval were whispers against his skin. She was happy, and he wouldn’t tell her that he pictured someone else when he closed his eyes. He’d only slipped and admitted that once.

For a moment, he stood with his eyes still closed and enjoyed the illusion, but he didn’t have the luxury of spending his evening standing in the shadows kissing a stranger. He had plans to tend. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and looked at Carissa. She really was quite pretty in her own right.

“I have to go,” he began.

She pulled a phone out of her jeans pocket. “Number?”

Sionnach shook his head and patted his empty pockets. “No phone.”

“Really?”

“Truly.”

Carissa looked at him like he’d just confessed to living a life lacking electricity, automobiles, and internet. He smiled. None of those were a part of his life, but they were easy to hide. The lack of a mobile phone stood out though.

She looked around the street. It was mostly empty. A few older mortals pushed a baby carriage nearby; a weathered man scowled at something he’d heard on his headphones. There were, however, some girls sipping their drinks and laughing. After a moment, she took his hand and tugged him toward them. Amused, he followed.

“Do any of you have a pen?” she said when they reached the girls.

Two of them stared at her silently, but a third girl searched in her purse. What she pulled out of the bag, though, was an eyeliner pencil. She held it out. “This is the best I’ve got.”

Carrisa—who still hadn’t released his hand—took it, used her thumb and finger to slide the cap off and into her palm, and then caught Sionnach’s gaze. “Pull up your sleeve.”

He obeyed.

“This”—she scrawled digits on his skin—“is my number.” She blew on the skin as if the makeup needed to dry. Then she started to write again. “And my name. Call me.”

Sionnach glanced at the numbers and back at her eyes. “I’ll see you again,” he promised. He wasn’t sure about the calling her part, but he would see her. He leaned in and kissed her again, gently this time, and then walked away still smiling. He didn’t think mortals and faeries had anything but ultimate sorrow in their lives if they tried to spend eternity together—mortals died far too quickly and easily for that—but he wasn’t looking for forever. He already had plans for his forever.

As he stepped into the shadows, he faded from visibility again and began to run back to Silver Ridge. If he could get the final pieces in place, the day would be a victory. He’d hoped to be away from the town today, to stay out of the way so his feelings didn’t sway him from his plans, but that hadn’t worked. Now, he had to go meddle in Rika’s life and hope he didn’t lose sight of the goal. 

CHAPTER 6

The area near the tracks in Silver Ridge wasn’t somewhere Rika usually lingered, and she wasn’t sure how long she could stay there. Now that they sat on a bench, the tracks weren’t near enough to cause her pain, but being near Jayce like this hurt. She’d grown so accustomed to being near him without his knowledge that she struggled with trying to figure out how close she could be now that he could see her.

They sat on the bench, very carefully not touching—in sharp contrast to Del and Kayley, who were standing a short distance away, so caught up in each other that they were seemingly oblivious to the world around them. But Rika was careful to keep a distance between her and Jayce. She told herself that it was to protect him, as if not touching would somehow trick the desert fey who watched, as if they didn’t already know that she was half in love with the mortal boy.

Although Rika could hear a group of faeries approaching her, she didn’t react. The town and the desert were filled with fey things. Many were harmless. She hoped that these were such faeries—until she saw them. They were some of the faeries who’d been on the edge of the cliff, and they were headed straight toward the bench where she sat with Jayce.

“She can’t stop us.”

“We ought to be allowed to play.”

“Keenan probably told her to spy on us.” Maili’s voice stood out from the rest, and Rika knew that if Maili came near, she would force the confrontation she’d wanted earlier. She probably wouldn’t don a glamour to appear human, so Rika would be left looking like she was swatting at empty air—or she’d have to endure an attack without reacting. Neither option sounded appealing.

Rika grabbed Jayce’s hands. “Can we go inside?”

“Inside where?”

Her gaze darted around. The only place nearby was a multilevel, tile-roofed, yellow-walled building where