Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)(86)

My body heated even as my chest ached. I'd never felt like that before, never so out of control and turned on, but those feelings stirred up this morning had run deeper than lust. And maybe I could've handled it if it was just about getting off, as crude as that sounded, but it was more than that.

More. Hadn't I wanted more out of life? If so, this was like taking a class on stupid and excelling at it.

I sat at the edge of the bed and placed my head in my hands. Okay, I couldn't go back and change anything that had happened between us. I just had to deal with it, and I had to be stronger. I had a job to do and I needed to focus.

I'd done what I needed to do, right?

There was no answer, only the droning of The Cure. I got up and strapped the iron stake into one boot and the thorn stake into the other. Picking up my phone, I tapped the screen. There were no texts or missed calls from Ren—not that I expected any to be there. Not after telling him that the morning was a mistake. I slid my phone into my back pocket and hooked my keys to the loop on my jeans, starting toward the front door, but I stopped. Turning around, I faced the hall that led into the kitchen and Tink's bedroom. I started toward his room, but I still had no idea what to say or do with him. I wasn't even sure if I was angry anymore or just disappointed.

I left my apartment without saying anything to him.

With a couple of hours to waste before the meeting David had called, I took a cab to Canal then slowly made my way toward Royal. Skies were overcast, the clouds fat with rain that would soon fall, and the streets weren't nearly as congested as they normally were. I ended up in front of the nondescript brick building.

Based on what Merle had said about the spirits, did that mean the ghosts of the mansion beside it had traveled into this house? Or maybe it was the gate that affected the area; after all, the gate would've been here before any of the houses were built.

I lingered under the painted green iron balcony of the house next door. I wasn't sure about ghosts. I'd never seen one, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. I mean, fae were real and so were halflings, so why not ghosts?

There were iron bars on the windows and the door, and to the untrained eye, that might look like the custom of the houses in the Quarter, but those bars were made out of iron for a reason. I hadn't even noticed the little old house before. God, how many times had I hobbled up and down Royal Street, walking right past this gate? The same with the church?

I would fail as a detective.

Who was in the house right now? Would they answer the door? Probably not. There was no space between the buildings, and the only way to get to the back of the house was through the home itself.

I lingered around Royal until it was time to head to headquarters, my stomach in knots knowing I was going to have to face Ren. As I passed the front of the gift shop, I saw that Jerome was behind the counter, flipping through a magazine. I hurried by in case he caught sight of me. I really owed him a cake.

Upstairs, the second floor was packed with Order members, most in groups of two or three. I lingered on the fringes, away from the door as I kept an eye out for Ren. Avoiding him would be pointless since we had to work together tonight, but I was in total delay mode.

David and Miles were at the front of the large open space, both conferring with each other quietly, and I slinked over to a window, leaning against the ledge until I caught sight of Val walking out from one of the rooms, her chin down and her curly hair falling forward, but that didn't hide the dark purplish bruise circling her right eye.

"Oh my God." I pushed off the window. "What happened?"

Val reached up, touching the skin under her eye. "I was going for a new look. What do you think?"

I gaped at her as I grabbed her arm, pulling her aside. I dropped it the moment she winced, and I realized there might be more bruises, ones I couldn't see. "Seriously. What the hell happened, Val?"

She sighed as she folded her arms across her fuchsia colored shirt. "I ran into a fae last night that didn't want to go down easy."

"When you were with Dylan?"

"No. It was after my shift. It's not a biggie, though." She smiled, but it sort of looked painful. "I'd say you should see the bitch, but there's nothing left of her to see."

"God. Do you need anything?"

"Nope," she said, then her gaze drifted over my shoulder. Her features were pinched. "Odd."

"What?"

One dark brow rose. "Yesterday you and Ren were locking lips, and today he's standing over there, against the wall, looking like he wants to put his fist through said wall."

My stomach dropped, and I almost looked over my shoulder. Val's gaze moved back to mine, and I sighed. "It's a long story. I called you earlier."

"Yeah. Sorry." She patted my arm. "We can talk later?"

I nodded. David clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention. I was surprised to see his wife was here, standing at the front of the group. Compared to his grumpy ass, she looked serene.

"We have a potential emergency situation," he began, and then he launched into a rather blunt breakdown of what could happen tomorrow night. Basically a Fae Apocalypse for Dummies sort of explanation, leaving out any discussion about halflings, which was understandable. At this point, that wasn't relevant.

Needless to say, the proverbial poo hit the fan. The Order members knew all about the ancients, and apparently some had even believed that the almost fabled form of fae had been hanging around, but none of them seemed prepared for the idea that there were several in the city that could be gunning for the gate Wednesday. Neither David nor Miles mentioned the clubs, and keeping that on the down low made sense. If someone among us was working with the fae, we didn't want them to discover that we were on to them.