Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(35)

“I don’t need your help.” The scratchy tone in my voice, the result of a parched throat and too much exposure to the elements, belied my words.

Looking around momentarily, he leaned forward and placed his lips next to my ear. His action should have caused me some unease, but the sunbird forced me to remain still. “I know what you are.”

There was only one logical explanation I could think of for someone having that knowledge.

The Rain had found me.

Smiling at the inevitability of it all, I held my arms open wide. “Do your worst then. I’m ready. More than ready.”

Tilting his head to the side and raising his scarred brow, he stood silent for a moment. Then he grabbed my hand and tugged me toward him. “Come with me then.”

Pulling me onto the street, he walked quickly and with a sense of purpose. I stumbled along beside him, wondering whether I should try to fight him off or just accept my fate. Honestly, acceptance just seemed that much easier. It said something of how far into the abyss I’d sunk that even the thought of never seeing Clay again wasn’t enough to make me fight—part of me was certain I’d never again lay eyes on him again regardless of how long I lived.

We walked a block and a half before Aiden directed me into a tiny deli. As I entered the building, I tugged at the ends of my jacket to ensure that it was closed tightly around me. He pulled me into a back room and pointed at a long wooden table already set with cutlery and an assortment of crockery.

“Come, sit,” he said, leading me to a chair.

Almost instantly, three other people appeared, each one placing a tray full of food in front of me before withdrawing again. My eyes widened at the selection: roast meat and vegetables, bread rolls, chicken noodle soup, lasagna, and at least three different types of cake. Helping himself to a plate, Aiden sat in a chair to my left. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply of the amazing scents wafting from the food.

I was reluctant to open my eyes again, believing that I was once again deep within a dream. If I was, it didn’t provide me any comfort. The best, brightest dream could become the darkest nightmare.

“Eat,” Aiden prompted.

Opening my eyes again, I looked at him skeptically. People didn’t just feed other people, not without an ulterior motive. If he was one of the Rain, why wouldn’t he once and for all end the charade by killing me? If not, I didn’t understand what he was doing by bringing me here.

Playing with the ends of my sleeves, I asked, “What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He tilted his head in question. “I don’t want anything. Well, I guess that’s not technically true, is it?” He seemed to ask himself more than me.

My uncertainty over the situation grew in my stomach again, overpowering the wondrous scents. I was nauseated rather than hungry.

“I want to help you, nothing more.”

“But, why?”

“Because that is what I do—my family and I. We find people that are down on their luck, and we help them to get back on their feet.”

The way he emphasized the word told me he meant anything but “people.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted. “What are you?”

He grinned widely, his lips stretching proudly over a set of pristinely white teeth. “Fae.”

“Fae?” I repeated. The word sounded at once familiar and yet unknown.

“Yes, that’s right—fae.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted.

“Please do not make me use the other word,” he said, before dropping his voice to a whisper. “It is absolutely demeaning.”

Lost like Alice stumbling too far down the rabbit’s hole, I waited for a moment for him to elaborate. To say something—anything—that made sense.

“Fine, if you must force me to say it,” he grunted. “Fairy,” he whispered in a disgusted tone.

“What?”

“Please, do not make me repeat myself.” His lips set into a grimace.

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed. “That is what I am.”

“A fairy?” I asked. The image that immediately popped into my head was of a tiny woman with wings buzzing around like an insect. I was sure my face showed my confusion over his use of the word to describe himself.

“Do you see!” he whined. “It is a simply disgraceful term to apply to a male of my stature.”

An involuntary giggle slipped past my lips, and his grin stretched wider in response to the sound. Finally, the knot of concern was beginning to unravel enough that the promise of food seemed almost too much to resist.

“That is a much better look,” he said, victorious. “Now, eat up. I promise it is not poisoned.”

Staring at the food in front of me again, my stomach growled loudly.

“If you’d poisoned it, you wouldn’t exactly say you had though, would you?” I asked.

“Ah, but if I had poisoned it, I would not tell you that it was not either because now you have it in your mind that it might be and will become more cautious with every bite, never certain whether you will first be full in the belly or lying flat on your back in eternal rest.”

“I’m lost,” I admitted.

“That is precisely why you should never enter a battle of wits with a fae. Much better to enter their homes and enjoy their hospitality.” He winked at me before leaning across the table and filling a bowl with soup. He held it out for me like it was a precious gift. “Now, eat.”