EIGHTEEN
I simply can’t stop thinking about the utter strangeness of my situation. Here I am strolling down the regular old streets of Wales, yet a member of The Depraved is at my side.
How in the worlds did this happen?
We have basically spent the equivalent of a movie together. But unlike a get-to-know-you-super-slowly type date like that, we have walked around town sharing our life stories, actuallyreallytruly getting to know each other. On a scary deep level.
I received my chance to ask him his age, fairly soon after he asked my name—which still cracks me up. He is almost twenty, so a bit older but nothing gross. I know tons of people in high school who date college guys. And besides, I don’t think faery ages work the same way. I’m not sure how they work, but after seeing Bonnie I definitely have some questions about it. Ones I will ask later, when all of this crap is over. For now I am going to concentrate on this amazing, gorgeous, spectacular guy walking next to me, holding my hand.
We have run out of the basics (things that might make its way into conversation in the third or fourth month of a so-called normal relationship), so we move on to options for taking care of our shared problem―Donovan.
I know I am lucky that Sloane knows Donovan so well, and I have complete faith that Zoë and Landon are coming up with the perfect solution—be it a weapon or a spell or something I’ve never heard of—to defeat Donovan. So Sloane is rather lucky himself, having bumped into me. Or at least I’d like to think so.
Sloane and I confide all that we know about Donovan and the situation I am in. We walk quietly for a few, absorbing the information. Once we do speak, me starting—which seems to be the pattern with us—we decide not to plan anything without talking to the others first. But of course we are both scheming in our heads. How can we not?!
So now we have the opportunity to enjoy each other’s company with no distractions. At least not any that we will let get in the way. We both know things will end up just fine. There is no better group of people than me, Sloane, my mother, Hollie, and Landon and Zoë to make this prophecy come true and to knock Donovan down off of his pedestal.
But like I said, there is no more thinking of that. Not right now. So I concentrate on how Sloane and I feel truly secure in each other’s company—strangely so. I have, or have had, people in my life who make me feel safe, but nothing of this caliber. And safety is not security. The security I feel with Sloane makes me trust that nothing can go wrong, but if that manages to happen, it will end up all right.
Neither of us are speak, but I know what Sloane’s mind is on the second I turn my focus to him – which automatically sends my thoughts in the same direction. Thoughts we should not be thinking; we just met each other.
But now that it has started, we can’t seem to stop. And Sloane isn’t blocking me out, so he wants me to know…
During the short time we have known each other, we quickly learned to sense and read each other. It wasn’t easy at first, but once Sloane dropped his guard, I did the same and it’s been fast-paced since then. Each minute we spend together feels like a day, as far as the intensity level and our closeness. At this point, it already feels like we have spent years and years together.
And we even have the matching skin to pretend that we have.
That is one thing we haven’t discovered, though—why our skin is the same. The most we can chalk it up to is that we were meant to meet because of the prophecy, so it basically acted as a calling card and a catalyst for that. But also, we are meant to be together so, once this mess is over, we’ll have a head start on our relationship.
A relationship that isn’t only about Donovan, even though he is still out there wreaking havoc. We already have more on an intimate level regarding our emotions, but our minds are leading to a different kind of intimacy. Neither of us speak this fact aloud, though.
At an attempt to ease this physical tension because it might go on for a while, I come up with something absolutely astounding to say.
“So, do you wanna grab a bite to eat before we go meet up with my friends?”
What?!?? How about, ‘Let’s go get a hotel room. Or a park bench. Or hell, this garbage can here on the corner would easily support my weight.’
Right now I am immensely grateful that I’m stronger than Sloane. I can block him out of my mind if I really try. And you’d better believe I’m keeping him out now.
“If you’re hungry, of course. Arthur’s is only a few blocks away.” Sloane glances at his watch. “Their salad bar should still be up.”
“Sounds good. I could go for that.”
Or something more. Your call. Whatever.
The silence returns but at least we arrive at Arthur’s quickly. Sloane opens the door for me (What a gentleman!) and we step up to the hostess’ stand.
Luck has graced us. An empty booth sits in the back corner. It isn’t all that busy, either, so we are basically alone.
Is this good or bad? I can’t decide. Where is Hols when I need her? Heck, I’d even take Bonnie’s advice right now.
“So are you actually hungry, or just tired of walking around the dark streets?” Sloane asks me once we are seated.
“I’m hungry. I think. Hell, I don’t know. Everything is so weird lately, I can’t even tell about something as simple as that.”
“It is all pretty crazy, isn’t it?”
“Um, yeah.” Just a tad… Even though I thought we were done with this subject for now, I can’t help myself.“So I have to ask, aren’t you worried about slipping up once we get a plan together? I mean, won’t Donovan have you, like, torn to shreds or something? He’s been up to some sick stuff lately … I wouldn’t trust him for anything.”
“I don’t trust him, but he trusts me and that is what counts. Besides, he is probably out trying to feed off all the ladies tonight. I’m sure that is why he’s not around. So, he doesn’t have the slightest clue I am with you—not that he would ever think I am anyway.
I tilt my head and nod, realizing what Sloane just said is true.
“He is a fiend. And quite the jerk. But he has skills when it comes to women, though, you must admit.” Sloane tries to hide his admiration, but I catch a glimpse of it before it’s safely tucked away. It doesn’t surprise me, though. Guys are guys are guys. Of course Donovan’s skills would impress Sloane. They would most likely impress my grandpa and my great-uncle Bob, too.
“Yeah, we all thought he was gorgeous before—even though I hated him, so I know he can pick ’em up easily. I’m just glad I can see him for what he is. Which is the epitome of evil, in case you aren’t aware.” I smile and give Sloane a wink so he knows I’m joking with him, although he should already know because I am leaving myself open.
“And Donovan in his true form … oh man, is he beyond hideous! I still don’t see how you can you stand to be around him. Or allow him to take from those poor girls.”
But then I pause, giving the vibe that ‘I’m not done yet so don’t worry about preparing your defensive answer.’ “Oh, right. You’re evil, too. Since you are such a big part of The Depraved and all…” I can’t help but smirk slyly.
From all I have learned, sensed, and seen, Sloane is about as evil as a little baby bunny. I haven’t a clue how he has played the game for so many decades—especially considering he is unable to lie to Donovan. Although I found it pretty simple to get around lying…
Right now is definitely a situation where I am wishing I could lie for real. I hope to the goddesses Sloane won’t trap me into saying something foolish.
He slits his eyes at me, trying to act mean and angry. “You think you’re just so funny… Listen, you know I want to stop this destruction as badly as you do, but we won’t be able to without some strong faeries by our side. The two you have gathered so far should be a big help but we probably need more. I also think it is best that your halfling friend stay away.”
“Why? Hols isn’t a threat. She’s staying in this realm for the most part a
nyway. But if she decides to help it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“You know it is in our nature. You can feel it, can’t you?” Sloane leans across the small diner table and lowers his voice. “We always have to push the envelope. We have to see how much people, and other fae, can take. Donovan is us at our worst. He thrives off of others’ pain.”
Sloane sits up suddenly, startling me. But I can sense that the waitress is standing next to me and I understand. We aren’t exactly talking about things other people should hear.
“Do you two know what you want?” The server is acting just the same as the one at the bar. I obviously don’t exist. Sloane is the only one who matters.
At least he looks at me to ask if I am ready. I’m not even hungry, but I feel like I should get something since we’re here, so I look straight at the waitress and clear my throat.
The girl refuses to stop staring at Sloane as he stares at me.
“Excuse me. I’m ready to order.”
Slowly, and not happily, the waitress turns toward me and glares. “Yeah, what do you want?”
“Well first, I would have liked for you to acknowledge my existence without me having to get your attention. But I know that’s a hard task. Trust me, I don’t like to take my eyes off him either.” I wink at her and give a half-smile. “As far as food, though, I think I’d like a strawberry milkshake. With about four cherries on top. Oh, and lots of whipped cream. Thanks, sweetie.”
My smile grows into a large, full one and the waitress rolls her eyes while chomping on her gum. She basically just grunts and then turns back to Sloane, her entire demeanor changing as she twists those few inches.
“And for you, gorgeous?” She smiles and twirls her pen in between her fingers.
“All I want is for my girl to be happy. And if that includes you acting properly, then I suggest you do so. And don’t you dare think about spitting in her shake or sticking her spoon down those pants that are entirely too tight for your ass … or anything of the sort. You have no clue who I am and who I know here—I will find out if you pull any crap.”
The smile falls right off the girl’s face onto the greasy laminate floor. She stammers out, “Uh, uh—OK. No, that’s fine. I wouldn’t even think… Her shake will be perfect.” She looks over at me and smiles and nods.
I take the opportunity to ask for a glass of water with my shake.
“Of course. Sure. No problem.” The waitress turns back to Sloane and I swear I can smell her fear. “Do you want water as well?”
“Yes please. I think I would like one. But no food. I’m not really hungry.”
“All right, I’ll be right back with your waters and the shake—extra cherries—it shouldn’t take long.” The poor girl is stuck between wanting to be a perky, diner server and wanting to run away and hide in humiliation.
She walks away and I can’t help but begin cracking up. I do feel a twinge of guilt but not even close to enough to keep me from laughing. Sloane leans back and smiles, clearly amused with himself, and me. After all, that chick started it with her rudeness.
Between laughs and hard-to-breathe gulps of air, I ask, “Is that what you were talking about?”
“Yes. Pretty much. It came naturally to you, didn’t it?”
“It did. That was awesome. I need to watch myself, I guess. Ever since Covetina baptized me…”
I sit and mull over what just happened. I don’t even glance at the waitress when she comes back and sets down our water glasses.
“Yeah, I’m definitely wanting to mess with people big time now.” After the last word leaves my mouth, my thoughts turn a one-eighty faster than I can comprehend.
Especially you, sexy! Why is he so freaking fine? I’m going crazy here. Seriously!
My bold thoughts practically surprise the piss out of me since I’m normally nothing like this – except for on the walk here, and I was caught off guard then, too. But other things were on my mind.
Right now, I have nothing but tap water in a glass to distract me. I attempt to figure out what each individual floaty thing from the pipes might be but it doesn’t work all that long.
Giving my head a shake back and forth, I reallyreallyreally try to focus. Again, I find that I am thrilled I can hide things from Sloane. But not talking will probably tip him off.
I glance up at him and smile and my body heats up, forcing my thoughts to race once more in the direction they were told not to: Thoughts of Sloane with his shirt off. Of Sloane kissing me. Of Sloane throwing me down on the bed. Of Sloane taking my shirt off. Of Sloane—
OK—Stop! I can’t think like this. I have a job to do and lives to save. I need to get my head on straight. Once this is all over … maybe then… But not now.
After a few deep breaths, I remember how strong I am. I rearrange my thoughts (I swear there are hands in my head physically doing so), shoving sex to the back of my brain and putting anything to do with the task at hand front and center.
Looking deep into Sloane’s eyes so he will know how serious I am after my outburst of playing with the waitress, I tell him, “You know I’ve seen Donovan’s destruction, or at least his attempt at it, firsthand. It’s scary to know where it comes from. That we’re all capable…”
But damn it if no matter how much I try to focus, I am finding it more than extremely difficult to stay on subject while looking at Sloane. I can almost feel the thoughts that I so carefully arranged switching places and completely defying me.
My shake is plunked down in front of me and I faintly hear the waitress ask if we need anything else.
I shake my head ‘no’ and give a nod up to the gods because the waitress didn’t lie about the shake. It only took about four or five minutes, if that. I take advantage of its height, pulling it toward me almost as a shield. Offering Sloane a cherry first (the innuendo is not lost on me, although I truly just mean to be polite), he tells me that I specifically ordered four so I must want them all. And that he can wait.
What?! Wait? At least it isn’t just me dealing with this right now.
The strawberry and whipped cream deliciousness are what I choose to pay attention to and to enjoy as much as possible.
The last minute or so since I have had my shake seemed to happen in slow motion, but based on Sloane’s next words, it has obviously only been a few seconds because he is still on topic.
“Yes, but we are strong enough to fight it. We don’t have to give in unless it is for a bit of fun like we just had. There is no need to worry. I promise. You will be fine.” He pauses before continuing, “I must ask something, though.”
I nod, telling him it is fine to continue.
“Do you really feel that much different now? I have obviously never been human, so I can’t fathom not being this way. Is it more exciting?”
Licking the whipped cream off my straw, I think for a second. “Well… I feel like―I guess like me. I finally feel comfortable in my skin. Now that I know what my skin really looks like.” I giggle like a silly schoolgirl and then admit, “Yeah, it is a bit more exciting. Walking around before I went to the bar tonight, I realized humans can be kind of boring. Of course not all of them are, but the majority I noticed were. That sounds mean, but…”
I shrug. It’s the truth. I am only speaking it—it isn’t my fault or anything. I put the straw back in the glass and take a long drink of my hard-earned shake.
After swallowing, I continue. “I actually feel like a totally different person, or faery, or whatever. I’m still me, but I’m the me I’ve always known I was, and now I can be that way in public. I just hope I don’t end up in any trouble now that my ‘filter’ is gone.” I make air quotes at the end of my response.
“Well good. You deserve to feel happy about yourself. And don’t worry about causing trouble. Your mind will be on other stuff for a while. Once this is all figured out and you get some aggression out of your system, you should be a bit tamer.”
“Hell, I hope so. I don’t see how we’re ever gonna pu
ll this off.” I look at Sloane with concern and his eyes send back a look of reassurance.
“I honestly don’t have a clue. We will have to combine our knowledge and come up with a plan to trick Donovan, or at least trap the creature―release him from D.”
I feel secure enough with Sloane to share everything – including Zoë and Landon’s theory about Donovan, the evil creature thing, me, and the children’s rhyme. I debated with myself at first, earlier when we were walking and sharing, but ultimately felt it necessary to tell him since I believe it to be true, and he deserves to decide for himself.
Knowing Donovan for so long and being aware of the fable, Sloane agrees with the others that whatever killed my mother is alive and well inside The Depraved’s leader—and his supposed best friend. Sloane believing makes it all the more real for me.
“There has to be a way to bring D down. I have thought of many scenarios over the years and, now that you are here and I have a good idea of what’s going on, I know it is finally possible.” Sloane shakes his head. “No, not just possible—it will happen. He will be brought down.”
“You really have that much confidence in me?” I feel my face radiating light as I reach out my hand to touch Sloane. But I already know the answer. Still fascinated that he has skin exactly like my own, all I want to do is stare at him forever.
Yeah right, like I could only stare and not touch him.
Annnnd, this is beautiful. The thoughts are back, damn it.
“You should know I do. You should know everything I am thinking, Kellyn. And besides, it is foretold. Your mother and Covetina told you this was your destiny—to bring down this evil. You have more power than you give yourself credit for.”
I nod reluctantly, unable to look away from our hands. I am hesitant to see what is in Sloane’s crisp, blue eyes. And what my mind will decide to do with what I see.
He turns his palm up and laces his fingers through mine from underneath. The electricity we both still feel is undeniable. I have been waiting to have something this with someone and now I know why it never happened before. Sure, there was a connection with Blake, and one guy before him, but nothing even comparable to this. This is just … it. I keep thinking this thought because things keep occurring to remind me of its truth.
“Yeah, probably. I hope you know how much it means that you have faith in me.”
With a deep breath, I draw on the strength Sloane just mentioned and I look up at his eyes. I find myself lost in them—in a much different way than when it happened with Blake. With him, a power took over me—one I couldn’t control, probably because it came from Donovan—and yeah, it felt great – but with Sloane…
With Sloane, a power is definitely at play, but I am in charge. I want to become lost in his eyes and his soul. Not only do my knees weaken from the look in his eyes, but my entire body feels like pudding. And all I want is for him to lick me up.
“Is that so?” Sloane asks with the wickedest grin a good guy can manage. And manage it well, he does.
His words startle me out of my thoughts. “What? Did I say something?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
Shit. Did I say all that out loud?
“No, not out loud. But I was privy to some of your thoughts for a moment there.”
I am mortified, but I also feel more turned on than I have ever been before—ever. Hell, I don’t even care if he hears me now.
“I want to do ungodly things to you,” I tell him silently.
“Check, please,” Sloane says as the waitress walks by.