Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)(46)

I had to act fast. Cocking my arm back, I threw the dagger. It spun through the air, hitting the fae in the chest, sinking deep. A startled look crossed the fae's face, and then he too disappeared in a flash of light. The legs dropped to the ground, inches from impaling Ren.

He stared at them for a moment and then turned to me. His head cocked to the side. A sudden burst of bright yellow light lit up the darkened alley.

"In the car!" Ren shouted.

Oh crap. Two headlights blinded me for a moment. The engine roared to life and the Benz lurched forward. My heart lodged in my throat as I launched myself to the side. I hit the ground and rolled, the motion uneven with my backpack. I hoped to God my poor rose was okay. I kind of wanted to keep it.

The Benz came so close I could feel the heat blowing off of it. The brakes squealed and burnt rubber filled the air. Leaping to my feet, I threw my head back as Ren ran up behind the Benz. He jumped, landing on the trunk. The car shook, and the driver's door flew open. The fae stepped out, raising his hand.

A trashcan to my left rattled, lifting off the ground and flying straight for me. I dove for the ground, but the trashcan changed course, slamming into my side. It hit the spot where I'd been shot, and a sharp pain flared. Gritting my teeth, I kicked the can off of me and pushed up.

Ren slid across the roof of the Benz, grabbing the fae. Yanking his head back by the mane of black hair, Ren shoved the stake into the back of the fae, right between his shoulder blades.

Light pulsed and then Ren wasn't holding on to anything other than a stake that looked as if it had been dipped in blue ink.

Rocking back onto my heels, I drew in a deep breath as Ren straightened on top of the Benz. "Well, that was fun."

He wiped the stake on his dark jeans and secured it under his shirt. Then he leveled an intense, angry stare on me. "I thought I told you I had this handled."

"You can take out two fae with a third in a car? All by yourself?" I snorted. "You may be all kinds of special, but come on."

He jumped from the Benz, landing in a nimble crouch he immediately rose from. "I had it. I planned on keeping at least one of them alive to, you know, question it."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have taken out the one in the car then, huh?" I snapped.

"You were supposed to stay back. Last time I checked, you were not to engage until David clears you."

I rolled my eyes. "He's cleared me for Wednesday. That's less than two days from now. I'm fine."

"I don't care if it's tomorrow. If you were told not to risk it, then—"

"Oh, shut up. Geez. I'm okay." I stood up and pain flickered through my side. "Let's—whoa."

Ren was suddenly right in front of me. "I saw that."

"Saw what?"

"You flinched when you stood. You hurt yourself." He grabbed a hold of the hem of my shirt and started pulling it up. "Let me—"

"I'm fine." I grabbed my shirt.

His jaw was set in a firm line as he flicked his gaze to mine. "Let me see, Ivy."

"Jesus!" I all but shouted as I wrestled with the edge of my shirt. "How would you like it if I just went around and started pulling up your shirt?"

He paused, raising both brows. "I'd f*cking love it."

"Ugh!" I wanted to stomp my foot.

Chuckling lightly, he almost had my shirt up to where the bullet had hit when his brows pinched in concentration. Without saying a word, he reached out and ran the tips of his fingers along my lower stomach. Gasping, I jerked back, but didn't get very far because he still had a hold of my shirt.

"Your mark," he whispered, and I shivered as his fingers made another pass.

My jeans had slipped low during the fight, exposing just the top of the interlocking circles. The muscles in my belly and much lower tensed, and a heady, pulse-quickening sense of yearning rose. The air around us charged as if a storm was about to move in.

"Stop," I said.

He removed his hand, and I didn't understand the strange sense of disappointment. His gaze was locked with mine, and what felt like an infinite amount of seconds passed while neither of us spoke. I didn't know what he was thinking. I didn't even know what I was thinking, but a sweet heaviness poured into my chest and slipped down, way down.

My phone beeped, breaking up our epic stare down, and then Ren's also dinged. My stomach clenched for a different reason, and a real sense of foreboding rose. He let go of my shirt and I stepped back, pulling my phone out of the back of my jeans. I clicked on the screen, and my breath caught when I saw the text.

Code Red.

"Oh no," I whispered, looking up at Ren. A somber, hard expression had seeped into his features.

Code red could mean only one thing. A member of the Order had been killed.





Chapter Eleven





The ride back to St. Philip was tense. As soon as I got the message, I tried calling Val. When there had been no answer, my stomach twisted into messy knots. As terrible as it sounded, the only thing I could think on the way to headquarters was for it not to be her. I didn't want it to be anyone, but I couldn't bear it if it was Val.

Ren and I didn't talk as we climbed the stairs and waited to be let in. It was Harris who opened the door? and honestly, I'd wanted to punch him in the face since I found out that he ran his mouth, but right then I didn't care.