Neva stepped closer to me, but I put a hand up. “How about you go get Black Widow?”
Her jaw dropped. “You want me to drive Black Widow?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. I just need to check on one last thing before we can go home.” Or possibly kill one last thing if I didn’t have a choice, but that was a detail she didn’t need to know.
Her eyes scanned the area, and even though Neva was resourceful and good at assisting, she wasn’t created to be a predator like I was. She wouldn’t sense the fae. Not unless he wanted her to.
“Okay, so I’ll pull the car back here after I get the keys, then?” she asked for confirmation, and I nodded.
Hopefully, I could handle whatever the fae wanted quickly and then be done with him. I hadn’t had an interaction with another of my kind in years. I preferred it that way, too. Ever since the king turned on me—for saving his life, no less—I’d chosen my own path.
When I’d worked for the king, I was a guard and went on missions whenever told. Sure, I’d punished people then, but it was different. I was young and naïve. I’d considered anything the king said to be truth and bowed before him without question.
Now? Now, I knew better. I still got the bad guys for others too lazy to do it themselves, like Beatrix, but it was more for my benefit than anyone else’s. I needed the release like I needed the air to breathe. I needed the redemption for the person the king had turned me into. The tasks I did on Earth were the only things that kept me from completely losing my shit and storming Fae Islands to demand vengeance.
There had been days, though… some dark fucking days when I plotted King Zephyr’s death over and over again like a true psychopath.
Once Neva was gone from the alleyway, I shook the dark thoughts away, and the fae stepped from the shadows enough that I could see his silhouette under the flickering light. Though, not enough to make out the details of his face.
My wings stretched further, and their hardened tips glinted under the dim light. I wanted him to know exactly who he was dealing with before he even got the chance to speak.
“What do you want?” I asked, hands ready for a fight at my sides. This one I didn’t have to leave alive, but I’d try, merely to avoid any drama his death could cause.
“I need a favor.” His voice was husky and strained, as if asking for help was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
“Why would I help you?” I countered, curious about his stiff composure.
He inched forward. “You wouldn’t. It’s not me I’m here for. It’s my sister. I’ve heard it’s what you do. That you’re the best at freeing people from adverse situations.”
Instead of responding, I took a moment to appraise him, trying to read between the lines and figure out what he wasn’t saying.
He was tall, likely close to seven feet, given the height he had on my nearly six-foot frame. His muscles stood out beneath the tight white shirt that clung to his skin, and I was surprised he didn’t have his wings out.
Maybe his were the gossamer kind and he was embarrassed. I smirked as I visualized him looking more like a fairy than the fae warrior his muscles hinted at, muscles that made my tongue dart out to wet my lips.
His silver eyes flashed with unfiltered rage. “What’s funny?”
“Just my imagination. Now, what is it that you think I can help your sister with?”
“She needs to have a spell removed from her,” he replied through gritted teeth.
My head cocked to the side. There was something about this fae that was causing the inner turmoil in me to hit new heights. Without meaning to, I inched closer to him and had a strong desire to reach out and run my fingers through his dark blonde hair. Instead, I internally gave myself a hard smack, putting all parts of me in place, and focused back on the conversation.
“It's really aggravating you to be here, isn't it? Why me?” I asked, avoiding his request, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t actually help. I might be powerful, but I didn’t mess with spells. That wasn’t my specialty, and there was a difference between witch and fae magic. But before I told him that, I needed to know why he’d sought me out and who had told him how to find me.
His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know who you are. I know what you do. I've seen you in action before. I just need you to stop the king from killing my sister.”
His words gave me pause. The king? As in King Zephyr? No way in hell. I'd been done with Fae Islands for a long time, and I refused to go back. I didn’t care if it was my only weakness. I’d moved on from my past... or so I told myself frequently.
“I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You need a witch for undoing a spell. Good luck.” Uncaring about needing answers any longer, I turned to walk away before I did something stupid, like try to fight him until we ended up at my apartment to really take some aggressions out. Instead of letting me walk away, he grabbed on to my left arm, forcing me back to him.
Our bodies collided, and I sucked in a breath at the feel of his hard lines pressing against me. My skin shivered as my heartbeat sped up, a reaction I certainly wasn’t prepared for. Gods, I really needed to let off some steam, but even I knew doing so with a fae wasn’t the best idea.
I arched a brow at him, telling myself that I needed to kick his ass and move on, but I couldn’t force my actions to match my thoughts for some reason. “Remove your hand or I’ll show you why I was kicked out of Fae Islands in the first place.”
He didn’t move. In fact, his head inched closer, and beneath the ire he was emitting, I relished in the fact he was battling something within as well.
“I'm not leaving without your agreement to help.” His voice was still strained.
“Why is this so hard for you?” I asked—again, ignoring his pleading—and focused on the tension set in his wide shoulders and the creases around his eyes.
“Because you are everything I hate about our world, but I'm desperate and hoping you're not the monster you used to be. So, here I am, at your mercy, begging for help, because I'm not enough to free my sister from the mess she's gotten herself into. Now, will you come with me to Fae Islands, or are you still the heartless punisher I remember?”
Chapter 4
Fae Islands. The one place I had sworn I’d never return to. A harsh rejection sat at the edge of my tongue, but this unknown fae was piquing my curiosity for some reason. I wasn’t ready to dismiss him just yet.
Get away from him. If you won’t kill him, then move on before he ruins you.
My inner being was taking on too many opinions. Maybe I was more off than I was even aware of. Clearly, none of my earlier pondering had done me any good.
“What’s your name?” I asked while taking a step back. I needed my wits about me to concentrate if his problem concerned my old home. I wouldn’t be weak enough to allow sexual tension or whatever was going on inside me to be a distraction.
“Finn Barlow, from North Island.”
Ahh, his contempt for me made more sense. I recalled one particular time when I’d drawn quite the crowd on North Island. It was shortly after King Zephyr had destroyed my doll and I’d needed to show him I was worthy of his love, or so he’d said.