I needed space to deal with my riotous emotions.
But, knowing that she was safe from harm, alive and well, gave me a tiny sliver of peace.
My head throbbed.
What the hell happened to me last night?
I racked my mind, but came up short. Cracking my eyes open, I took in my surroundings and then shot up straight. My fingers tightened around the soft blanket spread over me as my heartbeat leaped into a frenzy. I blinked away the stars that burst across my vision and scanned the room. Nothing was familiar. My chest clenched and I stilled, inhaling tentatively. I recognized the scent that flooded my senses—like the earth after a rainfall. Like . . .
Tarik.
My shoulders loosened. I was in Tarik’s apartment, a simple studio-style space without much adornment. A small lip on one wall caught my eye, laden with ceramic pots. Brightly colored flowers spilled out of them and filled the space with soft fragrance. Littered on the floor beneath them . . . toys? Small, makeshift wooden cars and a stack of uneven blocks—Benji’s? I whipped my head around, searching for either of them. The room spun out of focus. Laying back, I groaned; my entire body ached. I took a breath and tried to focus, tried to remember.
The fight was fairly vivid, until a point. I had been utterly overwhelmed and, thinking back, I grew increasingly agitated that Alec hadn’t stepped in. Where had he been? Clearly not on his patrol, or if he was, his eyes hadn’t been on The Pit where they should have been. Or maybe . . . maybe he had simply left me to my fate? The thought didn’t sit well. Did Mordecai tell him to leave me, to teach me a lesson for helping Tarik?
Maybe Mordecai really did want me dead.
A few details were stronger than others. Muscles along either side of my back groaned in protest as I stretched and lifted my arm, examining the smooth, intact limb with narrowed eyes. I could remember the bone relenting with perfect clarity; the snap, the pain. A shudder raced the length of my spine. How—? Could Tarik set bones? Even so, I would have needed a sling or cast. My thoughts were too fogged, I couldn’t connect the dots. I had to be missing something.
Wait. Tarik.
Where is Tarik?
I shot up again and searched the apartment, like he would materialize in front of me. Other than his curious gray and white cat, there was no movement. Nausea roiled in my stomach and I took a deep breath. What had he said last night?
Think.
The roof. He mentioned the roof.
I stumbled to my feet, jumping for the windowsill I had seen him go through the night before. Dizziness overwhelmed me and I paused to breathe, but only for a moment. Time wasn’t a luxury I had to spare. I huffed in pain as I dragged myself onto the fire escape, my bruised limbs protesting the climb.
Plants grew on every rooftop as far as I could see, and the sky was a brilliant patchwork of glowing clouds and early sun. Despite the beautiful view, dread settled in my stomach. Please tell me he didn’t go to work. I climbed back down into Tarik’s apartment, hissing softly when my legs balked under my weight. Slipping out the front door and onto the street, I tried to ignore the limp that jarred my steps. My aching muscles screamed in anger with every small movement.
I tried to refocus, make a plan, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Tarik. Despite the cruel things he’d done, he had saved me. The rage in my chest quelled at the thought, at the memory of pain in his eyes when he said he had almost watched me die. My anger faded further—not completely buried by my gratitude, but certainly lessened. Every thought of him wasn’t wrapped in fury. I needed a clear mind—I had too much to do, too much at stake.
I couldn’t let him suffer the fate I knew Mordecai had planned for him. Not merely for his sake, or even for the other Fae I absolutely intended to save with him. No, I wanted to save him for me. Because I wanted Tarik to live. I didn’t recognize the selfish thought—such a foreign idea, wanting to save a Fae for my own purposes. But I couldn’t help feeling like the world would be a little darker without that fiery temper causing hell for me and everyone else in it.
The thought renewed the vigor in my steps. Nevaeh was right. I couldn’t walk away when I’d helped put him on this path. At least not until I knew he was safe, especially after what he had done for me only hours ago.
A large shadow blotted out the sun.
I glanced up as a taloned foot scooped me into the air.
Alec.
Oh, perfect timing . . .
His grip tightened and I groaned. All of the cuts and bruises that still littered my skin reacted with fury at each flap of his wings. The rough pads of his foot scraped against my bare skin.
Absolute agony.
Alec flew toward the mansion. When the house loomed on the horizon, my heartbeat sped up. I didn’t want to deal with Mordecai right now.
I wasn’t going to have a choice.
Options swam before my eyes. Confronting him about the Fae outright was the most tempting of them all. But if I did, he might kill Tarik. Or me.
Or both.
And I had few to no allies. Nevaeh was the only one—if I didn’t count Tarik. After what he had done for me, I could count him as an ally, right? Did he save me from some strange sense of obligation? Or were his motivations a little selfish, like my own?
Damnit, I wish I knew.
In front of the mansion doors, Alec loosened his grip, lowering me to my feet before he shifted. No humor lit his eyes when he grasped my shoulders and said, “I’m so glad you’re alive.
