I stared at her, stunned into silence. She met my eyes for a moment and whatever she saw there made her sigh. Her fingers never stopped moving, braiding my hair, strand over strand, despite my protesting swats. Then there were footsteps and Rebel Leader peered over her shoulder, shaking his head in amusement at the braids.
All he said, though, was, “Table, please.”
Nevaeh’s hand slid to my arm, dragging me along to a chair and pushing me toward it before dropping into the one alongside. That golden-skinned Fae fell into place on her other side. I shot him a glance and he offered a small smile, his eyes landing on the galaxy tattoo that swirled up my arm.
“Akeno,” he said, extending his hand behind Nevaeh.
I shook it. “Reagan.”
“Oh, we’re doing introductions? Hi.” That large, dark skinned Fae dropped into the seat beside me, dark locs streaked with amber tumbling over his shoulder. “I’m Caspar.”
My smile was genuine this time, surprised that the massive Fae studied me with warmth in his amber eyes; a softness and kindness that was so at odds with his intimidating frame.
“We have a lot to discuss,” Rebel Leader said, gesturing for the other men in the room to join us.
I sat on the edge of my chair, trying to hide my nerves, but a Fae dropped into the seat across from me with a thump and a glare. He shared Nevaeh’s light brown skin, his hair rich and sandy blond, close-cropped to his head. His eyes were unwavering, lasered onto mine.
“Don’t mind Flynn. He enjoys being a complete creep. We think he’s overcompensating for something.” Caspar chuckled, leaning across the table to slug Flynn’s shoulder. The man didn’t break eye contact with me, stiff as stone.
Rebel Leader waited patiently while the others settled. He opened his mouth to speak, but was abruptly cut off.
“I’m starved. Can we eat while we talk? Listening to you all yammer always makes me hungry.” The Fae near the end of the table clapped his hands together twice. “Sebastian, fetch us some food.”
The long-haired Fae who had been watching me before pinned a glare on the disruptor, but tipped his chair back and left the room anyway.
“My apologies,” Rebel Leader said, looking to me. “My twins have apparently decided to act like beasts today.”
“And everyday,” Akeno said.
Rebel Leader sighed. “Reagan, this is Elias.” He gestured to the Fae with the burnt nose and glasses. “The knuckleheads at the end are Malachi and Micah.” He pointed to the twins, but I knew in a glance I would never be able to tell them apart. They grinned at me in unison, like they knew.
“And the one who—” I pointed toward the door.
A different sort of smile passed Rebel Leader’s lips. “My second in command, and the eldest of my four sons, Sebastian.”
I didn’t know how I had missed the resemblances. The blond hair and blue eyes matched in each of the five faces. But I nodded, and murmured a soft greeting. Both of the twins leaned forward to speak, but Rebel Leader shook his head.
“Focus boys, this is important.” At the twins grumbled consent he continued, studying me intently as he spoke. “I wanted you here specifically because you’ve been seen on more than one occasion with a mutual interest of ours. Do you know whom I speak of?”
I squirmed under the circle of eyes pinned to my face. The room was suddenly very warm. “I’m assuming Tarik?”
He nodded. “Yes. If you don’t mind the intrusion, we were all curious what he is to you, exactly?”
Heat flushed my cheeks. How was I supposed to answer him? I was a glorified stalker, but beyond that? My eyes flew to Nevaeh who smirked and shrugged. Traitor. I nervously scanned the faces around me, watching the various flickers of amusement and impatience. Clearing my throat, I said, “Um. I haven’t known Tarik all that long. Not . . . not personally, in any case. He’s a friend, I guess. And I really don’t care to see him hurt.”
My fingers gripped the seat of my chair. I secretly prayed the floor would crack open and swallow me whole, especially when Caspar snickered quietly.
Rebel Leader seemed impervious though as he rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers to contemplate. “I see. The thing is, you seem to matter a great deal to him. Last night, we were told he had made plans to pay us a visit. But our sources say that before he could, he was . . . distracted. Now, if you know Tarik even a little bit, you know he doesn’t like shifters.” One of the twins—maybe Malachi—burst out laughing, but one look at his father’s stern face shut him up.
With a sigh, Rebel Leader continued. “As I was saying, Tarik would never rescue a shifter, even one being beaten to death. So the fact that he saved you, especially given who you are, says a lot. Simply put, his actions tell us we can trust you. And so, if you’re making plans to rescue him, we are at your service.”
They were mistaken. The moment he had said I mattered to Tarik, my mind filled with images of that kiss—the angry way he had pulled me from him, the harshness of his words. My rage dwindled at the reminder that he had saved me, though. And before leaving me to climb to the roof, he had paused, an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes—one I still couldn’t identify.
My chest grew heavy as that memory faded. I lowered my eyes to the table. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “It would seem we have something in common. Can’t say I’ve ever said that to a shifter before, but there’s a first time for everything.” Nevaeh huffed. He glanced at her.
