Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)(24)

A few seconds later, my bedroom door creaked open and I heard a low, sexy rumble of a chuckle. “What in the world are you doing?”

I threw my hands up in the universal I-have-no-clue gesture. His footsteps approached the bed and then he came into view. His wavy hair was wet and the shoulders of his shirt were damp. It must have started raining at some point.

“You look weirdly adorable right now.” He put his right knee on the bed and planted his left hand beside my head. “Though I have a question.”

“About what?”

“Why are you wearing shorts and knee socks?” He leaned over, caging me in. “Why not just wear pants?”

I arched a brow. “First off, I’m not really wearing shorts, shorts. I’m wearing sleep shorts.”

“And there’s a difference how?” he asked as he lowered his head and kissed my cheek.

“There’s a difference.” I waited as he kissed my other cheek. “Secondly, the socks are comfortable and they’re fuzzy, which makes them better than pants.”

“Okay.” He chuckled again, kissing my forehead.

“And finally, it’s the perfect combination. I’m not too hot or too cold,” I explained.

“Whatever you say.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “All I know is that I’m going to love pulling them off you later. With my teeth.”

My eyes widened and my stomach dipped, the muscles there tightening. My body really loved the sound of that. His mouth was now aiming for mine, and I knew if I let him kiss me, he would be taking all my clothes off with his teeth, and unfortunately for my libido, I couldn’t let any of that happen. Yet.

I placed my hands on his chest, and when I spoke, my lips brushed his. “There’s something we need to talk about first.”

“Okay.” His tongue flicked out, tracing my bottom lip and causing me to suck in an unsteady breath. “Are we going to talk about how your breasts feel abandoned? Because I’ve been planning all day to rectify that.” He cupped my left breast and his thumb swiped over my nipple. “No bra? Perfect.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I called on every ounce of willpower I had and said, “Merle is missing.”

His mouth hovered over mine. “What?”

“And she left all these journals and paperwork behind, some dating back several decades.”

“Uh-huh.” His thumb made another pass.

My toes curled. “And in those journals she lists names of the previous sect leaders and—” I gasped when he plucked the hard nub through the thin cotton of my shirt. “And she detailed how the Order used to work alongside the fae.”

Ren’s hand stilled, and I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad about that. Slowly he rose up a little so I could see his face. “Come again?” he said.

“And talks about how there are actually . . . good fae—fae that don’t feed on humans.”

He blinked slowly. “Are you high?”

“I wish,” I muttered, hoping his reaction was genuine. “But if you let go of my boob I can show you.”

Ren hesitated. “Do I really need to let go of your boob?”

I stared at him.

A dimple appeared in his right cheek and he slowly, finger by finger, removed his hand. “Okay. What exactly are you talking about?”

“It’s all in the journal that’s about an inch from your knee.”

His gaze flickered over my face and then he tilted his head to the side. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Frowning, Ren leaned over and snatched up the journal. He sat beside me, book in hand. “You said Merle is missing?”

I sat up. “Yeah, Brighton called me after we had dinner. She said that her mom hadn’t been acting right since the gate was opened, more so than normal, and this morning she must’ve come downstairs with all these journals and stuff.”

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“She told Brighton it was no longer safe for her and then left. When Brighton went to look for her about five minutes later, Merle was just gone. She checked several of the surrounding blocks and there was no sign of her.”

“Is it possible she hailed—”

“It’s possible, but not likely. Anyway, when Brighton came back inside, she started looking at all the stuff—including the journal—and that’s when she called me. I skimmed through it then brought it home. I’ve been reading the stuff for hours, and Ren . . . I think it’s real.”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “Ivy, there aren’t fae who don’t feed off humans.”

“According to that book, there are.”

His brows knitted together. “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but Merle struggles—”

“Yes, she struggles, but this stuff has been chronicled for decades, Ren, before she was caught by the fae.” I scooted onto my knees and reached around him, taking the book from his hands. “Trust me, I didn’t believe it at first—couldn’t believe it, but look at this.” I opened the book to an entry made in the seventies and turned it over. “Read this and pay attention to the date.”

His gaze held mine for a few beats and then he looked down at the book. I knew which part he was reading. It was a joint mission between the Order and the fae, where they helped locate several teenage humans who’d been kidnapped by other fae. I remembered the good fae’s names—Handoc, Alena, and Phineas. Of course, the last name made me think of Phineas and Ferb. Ha.