Smoke and Fire (17 page)

But it was powerful, familiar arms that wrapped around her, yanking her up before she could hit the ground.

Kinsey's heart was beating double time. She lifted her face to thank Ryder, but words deserted her. His mouth was mere breaths from hers.

Her hands were splayed on his chest where she could feel his heart beneath her right palm. Without meaning to, she swayed against him.

One large hand was pressed against her back, right above her butt. The other held the back of her head. His wide lips were parted, and his gaze refused to release her.

She knew what it felt like to be kissed by Ryder. How with just a touch he could make the world fade away, how he could fill her mind with just one thought—him.

No one had kissed her like him since he'd left. And she had looked for such a man.

Just one more kiss. What could that hurt?

“Are you all right?” Henry asked as he reached them.

Kinsey hastily stepped out of Ryder's arms. She felt him hesitate, as if he wanted to keep her there, but he released her.

Damn that was close. She was really going to have to watch herself, because to give in just a little to Ryder's magnetism was to give him all of her again.

“Yes, thank you,” she told Henry before she turned and walked out the door.

Behind her, she heard Henry ask Ryder, “Did I interrupt something?”

She wasn't able to hear Ryder's response. A pity. She would've liked to know what he was thinking. Not that it mattered. She was over him.

Keep telling yourself that, honey. It might be true when you're dead.

Kinsey felt like screaming. That hole in her chest that threatened to swallow her was back, as if she hadn't spent the last three years doing her damnedest to fill it in.

The tragic and appalling part was that she really thought she had.

It only took being next to him again to remind Kinsey that she'd allowed herself to believe she was moving on when she hadn't been.

Suddenly she was engulfed by depression and misery. She wasn't the strong individual she'd thought. She was weak and exposed. And so tired of pretending.

Why did it take coming face-to-face with the man who'd torn her world apart to reveal the truth? She'd told the lie of being fine so many times that even she believed it.

But she wasn't okay. She was torn, bloodied, and still bleeding. The wound was a trickle now, but it had yet to heal. Kinsey feared it never would.

Then to be tempted by what she couldn't have was the worst sort of anguish. What had she done to deserve such torment?

The biting wind cut through her sweater, but Kinsey barely felt it. She was too caught up in her own misery and the bleak outlook for her future to care.

Something heavy and warm was placed over her shoulders. She instinctively reached up and felt the flannel inside the coat. Henry gave her a nod after he settled the coat on her shoulders and walked beside her.

“You look like the rug just got yanked from underneath you.”

She didn't want to talk, but she couldn't be rude either. “It did.”

“I'm an arse, Kinsey. I apologize for interrupting what was clearly something intimate,” he said.

With a shake of her head she said, “I'm glad you did. What we had is over.”

“Are you sure? Because it didn't look that way to me. In fact, it looked quite the opposite.”

Kinsey followed Ryder with her eyes as he joined Con ahead of her. “It is. He made sure of it when he left.”

“Perhaps he left for a reason.”

“He already explained his side,” she said. “It still doesn't make up for the three years he let pass. At any time he could've returned or called. Hell, even a text would've been nice.”

Henry looked at her with a sad smile. “Did you ever stop to think that perhaps Ryder assumed you'd moved on and wanted to give you a nice life?”

“No. With how easily he finds and tracks people, he knows I didn't have anyone serious in my life.”

“Right,” Henry said, searching for something else to say.

Kinsey stopped and touched his arm. “I know about Rhi.”

“Don't,” he stated in a voice laced with anger. “I don't want to hear you tell me to walk away like the others have.”

“I won't. I know how it feels to love someone I can't have.”

Henry's face relaxed as he blew out a breath. “I think you could have Ryder. If you wanted him.”

“That look you wear? The one that says you're on the brink of shattering, the one that tries to hide the agony within you? I know it all too well. I've lived it for years. Time doesn't heal all wounds. It serves only to keep the wound festering. A constant reminder of what we'll never have. It doesn't allow us to move on or forget.

“It teases us with the hope that we might get past such suffering, but in an ironic twist of fate, we're reminded by inconsequential, mundane things that the pain is as much a part of us as the organs that keep us alive.”

Kinsey turned her head to look at Ryder. His short blond hair was ruffled in the wind as snow flurries hung seemingly in midair. He stood as unaffected by the weather as he did the passage of time.

She huddled deeper into the coat. “Ryder and I are worlds apart, and it's never been more clear than at this moment. That bitterness that takes up more and more space where our hearts used to be is going to smother everything else. I'm living proof of that.”

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

Austin, Texas

Rhi cruised the hills of Austin. The sun was shining bright and the temperature was only in the mid-forties. She adjusted her sunglasses before she glanced at the seat beside her.

Her watcher was there. It made her smile when she teleported to the storage unit where she kept the Lamborghini parked.

She almost asked if he wanted to go for a ride with her, then decided against it at the last minute. If he wasn't going to respond to her, then she wouldn't talk to him.

It wasn't until after she got into the sports car and started it up, the engine rumbling deeply, that she felt his presence beside her. How else was he supposed to keep up with her unless he rode beside her?

Rhi bit back a laugh when she tried to imagine what he would do if someone else had been with her. Would her watcher cling to the top of the car? Or run alongside her?

Driving was one of the few human experiences that she truly enjoyed—besides shopping and getting her nails done. Though she could teleport anywhere she wanted, as well as use the Fae doorways to go to other realms, there was something calming about driving around.

But her awesome car definitely had something to do with it.

She pressed the accelerator, revving the engine as she zoomed through the traffic, weaving in and out of the cars. The Lamborghini responded lightning quick. It was the epitome of a sports car, and she truly loved being behind the wheel of such a machine.

Rhi laughed out loud when she zoomed around a bright red Ferrari. The man in his late fifties watched her as she hauled ass past him.

“Tell me that wasn't fun, sweet cheeks?” she asked her watcher. Then she rolled her eyes as she recalled she wasn't supposed to talk to him.

But she could almost feel his smile. Whoever he was, he was having fun.

“Doesn't it get old not talking? I know it does for me,” Rhi said. “I told myself I wasn't going to talk to you, because I hate that I get silence in return.”

She looked his way, trying to imagine his face. He would have black hair for sure, but was there silver in it? She didn't get the vibe that he was a Dark Fae. So no silver, but was his hair long or short?

Long. Definitely long.

“And more silence,” she stated grumpily. “One day I'm going to discover who you are and why you've been following me. For your sake, I really hope it isn't on Usaeil's orders.”

The Queen of the Light wasn't thrilled about Rhi walking out on her duties as Queen's Guard, but it was something Rhi had had to do.

“Usaeil has forgotten what it means to lead our people. And with the rumors of the arrival of the Reapers, she's needed more than ever.”

Rhi could feel her watcher's gaze on her.

“Why are the Reapers back now?” she asked. “It might have something to do with that missing bit of text that Balladyn couldn't find. The Reapers have the entire race of Fae on pins and needles.”

She slowed the car as she exited the highway and drove under a bridge to make her way back. Rhi was silent for a long time as she thought over all Balladyn had shared with her about the Reapers.

Wasn't it those in charge who should take the arrival of the Reapers seriously? Usaeil would rather talk about her next movie or magazine cover than a valid threat.

The more Rhi thought about Usaeil's dismissal of the Reapers, the angrier she became. It didn't matter that no one—not the lowest Fae or a king or queen—could stand against the Reapers. Usaeil should at least be comforting the Light, assuring them with knowledge.

By the time she returned to the storage unit, Rhi knew she had to see the text that Balladyn found with her own eyes. She parked the Lamborghini and shut off the engine, but she didn't exit the car.

Then something occurred to her that left her cold inside. The Reapers were judge, jury, and executioner for the Fae. No one knew how the Reapers were chosen or where they went, but without a doubt, every Fae knew the Reapers put balance back into the world.

Her watcher had shown up near the same time as whispers of the Reapers reached her. She also hadn't made such great decisions lately. Could she be targeted by them?

Rhi turned her head to look at the empty space her watcher occupied. Her blood was chilled at the thought of dying, but there was also a small voice that said she might actually find peace. “Are you a Reaper? If so and you've come to kill me, then get on with it. Drawing this out is just wrong.”

Silence. Always silence.

She closed her eyes and faced forward. There was one time she'd wished for death—when her Dragon King lover left her. Rhi had even ventured into an area that guaranteed her death. And yet she'd somehow lived.

Her grief had been so profound that she wondered if she'd dreamed it all, because when she woke she was back at her cottage in Italy.

A hand covered hers.

Rhi looked down at her right hand. She couldn't see her watcher, but she could feel him. He was comforting her in the only way he could. And she had a feeling he wasn't supposed to be doing even that.

It wasn't the touch of someone about to end her life. She breathed a little easier, even as she contemplated some of her latest decisions.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His fingers tightened around hers for a moment, and then his touch was gone.

She opened the car door and climbed out. As she straightened, movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. “Ulrik,” she said when she found him leaning a shoulder against the side of the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest.

He wore dark denim and a long-sleeved goldish taupe Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His long black hair was pulled back in a queue showing off his chiseled features.

“Hello, beautiful.”

The fact he was there caused her to be leery. She shut the car door and faced him. “How did you find me?”

“The same way I knew of your cottage in Italy. I pity you deserted it, by the way. The place suited you.”

“I need privacy. The fact you knew about it made it pointless,” she retorted.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his gold eyes. “There's no need to get upset. You've paid me plenty of visits lately.”

“True. So what do you want?”

“To talk.”

She leaned her hip against the black Lamborghini. “Try again. You blasted me with dragon and Dark magic the last time we met.”

“Did I? My apologies. You know I'd never intentionally harm you.”

Oddly enough, Rhi believed him. “You look … different.”

Rhi blinked, shocked to her very core when she saw a true smile from Ulrik. It filled his eyes, and that's when she saw a contentment about him she hadn't seen before.

But as quick as it came, it vanished.

“You look different as well.” He tilted his head to the side as he studied her. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you've been well and truly bedded.”

Rhi held his gaze, determined not to look away. Her love life—as well as who she took as a lover—was no one's business. Especially anyone, even remotely, connected to Dreagan.

“I'll be damned,” Ulrik murmured with a grin. “Did you give in to Balladyn?”

She looked down at her Christian Louboutin black booties as if bored. “This is where you tell me why you're here.”

“All right. You doona want to talk about Balladyn, then we willna. Let's talk about Dreagan.”

“We won't be discussing that place either, because I know why you want to talk about it.”

His black brows rose. “Do you?”

“Stop,” she said harshly. “I'm tired of the games. All games. I'm tired of everyone wanting something from me, and more than anything I'm beyond exhausted with everyone wanting to talk about that asshole. I'm done with him, with whatever it was we had. It's been over for thousands of years, and I've finally accepted that. So do me a favor and never mention him again. Or I won't be responsible for what I do to you.”

For the second time in minutes, Ulrik gave her a rare—and brief—smile. “That's what I wanted to know.”

“What?”

“I wanted to see if you've let him go. You have.”

Rhi pushed away from her car and hooked her thumb in the front pocket of her jeans. “Why do you care?”

“Oh, you know exactly why.”

She swallowed hard. “Keep your revenge to the one who deserves it.”

“Con will get his. Of that you doona need to fear.”