Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(60)

I wonder how Kieran would look with his hair on fire. I bet he wouldn’t be so eager to trap me in an alley after that.

For tonight, Faelan will be with me. And Marius. It kills me that I have to depend on any guy. I’ve always just depended on myself. But it’s sort of life and death at this point; whatever Aelia says about an accident, I’m not sure I buy it. I just have to hope the freak won’t try anything in front of the rest of them.





TWENTY-FOUR

FAELAN

After Sage left to get ready, I didn’t have the balls to call Marius and tell him what’s coming tonight when she’s asked who she chooses for her protector—how it’s probably not going to be me. How it might even be bloody Kieran at this point for all I know. Because I fucked it up.

Instead I went for a swim and showered, reciting Beowulf to quiet the commotion in my head. I’m in an extremely pissy mood by the time I’m ready. I can’t stop thinking about how I grabbed her—what the hell was that? And after what Kieran did to her . . . dick move. I know too little about practicing patience. I was never the right one for this task—I’m not sure what Marius was thinking.

I can hear Aelia’s coven out by the pool, and I don’t want to leave my cottage. So I sit in the greenhouse and wait for the sound of Sage’s door opening across the walkway.

Time passes slowly. As it becomes obvious we’re going to be late, I consider walking over and banging on Sage’s door. But the less time I spend with her right now, the better.

My head is too big of a mess.

But it’ll be over now, if she’s decided against me. And that should be a relief. I’ll just go into retirement like I planned—if Marius doesn’t have me sanctioned for my failure in handling this. Somehow, the rocky shores of Erin don’t sound as tempting as they did a few days ago, though. Not when I have this bloody compulsion to help her, to be there watching. I need to get my shit together.

I hear her door click open. When I step out on the front porch I spot them, Aelia and Sage, and—my thoughts go still, every part of me focusing on the redhead walking across the patio toward me. She’s stunning. Not beautiful in a typical sense: her edges are sharp and something about her clothes doesn’t quite match her personality. But she’s arresting. Everything in me wants to touch her.

I clench my hands into fists and step back.

“What’s wrong, Faelan?” Aelia asks with a smirk. “Don’t you think Sage looks nice?”

“Her dress is too short,” I say.

“Wow, that face,” Victoria says. “You look completely repulsed, hunter.” And she giggles, like she’s pleased with the idea. “You should’ve seen her an hour ago.”

I didn’t mean to feed the sharks. I glare at her before I turn to Sage, ready to apologize. But when I see Sage’s expression, my words evaporate. I swallow hard. She’s not looking at me, but there are threads of embarrassment and discomfort filtering from her shoulders. It makes me want to tear into the vapid Victoria, and tell her that her lipstick and caked-on eye makeup make her look like one of the trollops who used to stroll around outside the pub in my old village.

Instead I say, “You look nice, Sage.” When her eyes move to mine in surprise, I feel the need to add, “You’re very put together.” And then I clear my throat, because it’s either that or I keep digging the hole.

“You did a fabulous job, Aelia,” Freya says. “She’s amazingly less gross.”

“Pretty,” Rayane says.

“We need to go,” I say a bit too harshly.

“Sage should walk in with us, I think,” Aelia says. “They need to know she has more of us than just my father behind her.”

I look over at the four girls, Aelia and her coven, and wonder what she thinks they’ll prove, walking in with Sage. My guess is she thinks Sage’s future status will help raise her own clout. I don’t like the idea of Sage being used as a prop by Aelia.

“She comes in with me,” I say, “and you can follow.”

Aelia gives me an irritated look, but she doesn’t argue. “Fine, but only because I think that’s what Daddy would want, not because you said so.”

“Whatever, woman.” I motion for Sage to follow me. “Come on.”

Aelia moves into my space, more than irritated now. “Don’t call me woman in that condescending tone! Male.” She whooshes past, her hair flicking my arm, saying over her shoulder, “You could’ve put more effort into that outfit, you know. Off-brand slims, seriously? Should’ve worn the Calvins I got you. At least leave your hair down for a change.”

Her entourage follows her, Freya glancing back at me with a wink. “I think you look yummy,” she whispers. “That sweater is super touchable.” And then they all flitter away on their designer heels, long hair flowing behind them, leaving Sage and me alone.

Sage watches them go like she wishes she could follow.

“Would you rather go with them?” I ask.

She turns back and gives me a wide-eyed look. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You seem to be getting along with Aelia. It’s odd. You’re such . . . polar opposites.”

She studies me for a second like she’s trying to decide if I’m complimenting her, then she relaxes a little, more herself again. “The girl is crazy and exasperating. But she’s actually pretty informative.” She considers and then adds, “She’s explained loads more than you have.”