Torn (A Wicked Trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

He always answered like that. What. Not a question but a demand. For some reason, hearing something so familiar settled the tight knots building in my stomach. “It’s Ivy.”

“Sort of figured that out when the caller ID showed your name,” he replied dryly. “What’s going on?”

An older woman noticed me, and her face pinched with concern. I wiped my sleeve under my nose, forgetting it was bloodied. “Val’s dead.”

There was a sharp expletive that blasted my ears. “I need a little more detail, like about five seconds ago.”

“I saw her on Bourbon, and she ran. I chased her up to the roof of one of the hotels on Canal,” I explained, keeping my voice low as I made my way toward the street. “She was down here doing something, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. We fought, and she . . .” My breath caught because I couldn’t tell the complete truth, and what did that make me? I’d have to unpack all that mess later. “She fell off the roof.”

“Shit,” muttered David.

I took a breath that seemed to get stuck. “I didn’t kill her.” David didn’t reply, and I don’t even know why I continued speaking. “I asked her why she did this, why she betrayed us. She—”

“It doesn’t matter, Ivy. The why does not matter. She did what she did. She made that choice,” David replied with a heavy sigh. “She still out on Canal?”

My stomach turned. “Yeah.”

“I’ll send someone out. Call Robby. Let them know she’s one of ours.” There was a pause. “You’re off for the rest of the night.”

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Someone knocked into me, and I shot the woman a look that warned her not to say one word. “Why? I’m fine. I can—”

“You were close to her. You just saw her die. I don’t care what you say you are, you’re off for the rest of the night. Get your ass off the streets or you’ll find yourself off tomorrow too,” David advised. “I’m being serious. It’s an order.”

Starting to walk again, I gritted my teeth and immediately regretted it, because my jaw ached. “All right.”

“I’m gonna need you to come down tomorrow and fill out a report,” he said. “Don’t forget.”

I was so not looking forward to that. I hung up and walked about four steps before my phone rang again. It was Ren. I answered. “Hey.”

“Just heard about Val. Where are you?” he asked.

“Um . . .” I looked around. “On Bourbon. Across from Galatoire’s.”

“Hang out there, and I’ll meet in you in a couple of minutes.”

“Ren,” I whispered, my heart flipping all over the place. I really wanted to cry. “You’re busy doing special Elite stuff, and you don’t need to come to me.”

“You need me and that’s where I need to be,” he replied. “I’ll be right there. Okay?”

Ren hung up before I could respond, and I had to breathe deeply so I didn’t break down. I looked around, and not finding any place to sit, leaned against the mustard-colored wall and waited while this horrible burning sensation churned in my stomach, slowly crawling up my throat.

Val had betrayed the Order. She had nearly gotten me killed, but . . . she’d been my best friend, and now she was gone. Dead on the street because of the choices she’d made, the trusts she’d broken and horribly misplaced in others. I didn’t understand how I could feel so much pain for a person who’d done one of the worst things, but I did and the heartbreak wasn’t any less because of her actions.

It was more.

~

Ren showed up about twenty minutes later, shaving off about five minutes of that walk, which was rather impressive. He didn’t say anything when he spotted me leaning against the wall, and neither did I. Partly because I was just so . . . relieved to see him—that wonderfully messy, wavy hair of his, those bright, warm green eyes, and everything that was alive about him.

He walked up to me, and a second later, I was in his arms, and he was holding me so tight and so close. I didn’t care what we must look like to others on the street. I wrapped my arms around him and held on. One of his hands slid up and down my back, and we stood there like that for what felt like eternity.

“You okay?” Ren leaned back and brushed his lips over my forehead. “Looks like your jaw is a little red.”

“I’m fine.” My voice was hoarse.

He circled his arm back around my shoulders, dragging me in against his chest once more. “I’m sorry, sweetness.”

My fingers dug into his shirt. “I didn’t kill her, Ren. It—”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” he said, but it did. There was so much I was hiding. “You facing her down was the last thing I wanted for you. That’s too heavy,” he said. “I know what you’re feeling.”

My eyes slowly opened. Ren did know. Kind of. His best friend hadn’t betrayed him, because he hadn’t known he was the halfling, but Ren had been standing on the other side when it came to someone he cared about.

And he was doing it again now, but had no idea.

My mind raced back to earlier in the evening. I’d been seconds away from telling Ren the truth, but I’d stopped. Henry’s appearance and what had just happened with Val didn’t change anything else. I pulled back, clearing my throat. “So, what did Kyle want?”

Ren’s gaze moved over my face as he tucked back a few loose curls. “He wanted to talk about the halfling and plans to try to ferret out some of the fae. See if we could capture one of them and get them to point us in the right direction, but with Val . . .”

My heart was pumping again. I had no idea how many fae knew what I was, but there was a good chance a lot did. There was no escaping any of this. If what just happened with Val had taught me anything, it had taught me that. “She wasn’t the halfling, Ren.”

His brows knitted. “I know Kyle thinks—”

“I’m the halfling,” I whispered.

Chapter Fourteen

Oh my God.

There. I’d said it. I’d told the truth—an earth-shattering truth while standing in front of some building that was most likely a bar.

Ren’s brows were raised and his full lips were parted. Several seconds passed while my heart thundered in my chest. “What?” he said finally. “Ivy—”

“It’s me.” My voice was shaking as were my hands. “I didn’t know until about a week after I fought the prince. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” he said, holding up his hands. “I don’t know why you think that. I don’t care what Kyle said in there. Val was the halfling. That makes sense.”

“No. No, it doesn’t.” I took a step back, swallowing hard. Tears clogged the back of my throat, but I needed to pull it together. I breathed through the burn. “What Kyle said earlier is the truth. If Val had been the halfling, they wouldn’t have risked her that night to open the gate. She wouldn’t have been out here tonight. They’d do everything to keep her safe so she’d be available to the . . . to the prince. It’s not her.”

“Okay. All right.” He thrust a hand through his messy hair. “I can see why you’d believe that, and you’ve been under a ton of stress, but—”

“It’s not stress, Ren. You’re not hearing me. It’s not some whacked-out theory I’ve come up with. I don’t even understand how myself. You said my parents were in love and there was no evidence of one of them being with someone else. Maybe it was like your friend. I don’t know, but it’s me.” I closed my hands into fists. “It’s
me
.”

He stared at me, his chest rising sharply. “That’s impossible.”

Exhaling roughly, I grabbed his hand and pulled him past several buildings and into a well-lit alley that fed into a courtyard. The alley smelled faintly of mold and questionable bodily fluids, but it was the closest semi-private place.

I looked toward the mouth of the alley and saw people passing by, oblivious to what was happening a handful of feet from them. “I know I should’ve told you the moment I found out, but I . . . I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. That I would never have to tell anyone, and I know that’s wrong, but I . . .” My gaze shifted back to him. He was staring at me. “I can’t lie to you anymore. Not when they’re here. I can’t do that to you. I don’t want you to be caught off-guard by it.”

His lips parted as he took another deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You must be so disgusted with me.”

Ren slowly shook his head. “Disgusted? I could never be disgusted with you.”

Hope sparked alive. Was he saying that he still accepted me, even knowing what I was? He wouldn’t turn me in and we’d—

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but we can figure this out.” He stepped closer, lifting a hand. “Try to get to the bottom of why you think this about you.”

Disappointment washed away the hope. He didn’t believe me. God. “I’ll show you,” I said.

His brows knitted together as concern slashed over his handsome face. “Sweetness, you don’t have to show me anything.”

An ache lit up my chest as I reached down and yanked the thorn stake out of my pant leg. I straightened and angled my body so what I was doing was hidden from the people on the sidewalk. Ren’s eyes widened and he shot toward me, but he was too late. I sliced my palm, over the same spot I’d sliced before. Air hissed between my teeth as I glanced up, watching Ren, because I already knew what my blood was going to do. It would bubble and fizz, and even in the poor light of the alley, he’d see it, and that shit wasn’t normal to say the least.

Ren jerked back. Stumbled. And I imagined he rarely ever lost his step like that. He paled and his mouth moved without sound.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I closed my hand as I lowered the thorn stake. “I’m the halfling, Ren.”

His stark gaze rose to mine. Those beautiful green eyes were full of horror and a raw emotion I couldn’t quite place.

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I just couldn’t lie. Not with them here. I’m not asking you to lie for me or to do anything or not to do anything,” I rambled on. “I hate to do this to you, because I love you—” I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh no. Those three words totally came out of my mouth. Terror filled me. “Ren . . .”

“You what?” he whispered.

Now my heart was lodged in my throat. I couldn’t repeat it. I couldn’t say those words again.

His expression changed, and he looked stricken as his gaze moved from my face to my hand. “You tell me that you are this—this thing, and then you tell me that you love me?”

Oh my God.

“How is this . . . ? How have I missed this?” he asked. I didn’t know what to say as I folded my arms. The thorn stake pressed against my side, a heavy reminder. His gaze drifted over me as he shook his head. “You . . .”

I couldn’t breathe right. Only tiny puffs of air were getting through, and that was doing nothing for me. There was this tearing feeling in my chest I’d felt once before. “Ren, that’s not—”

“I just can’t.” He held up his hand, silencing me. “I can’t even process this right now.”

Tears filled my eyes.

“I . . . I still need to go talk to David,” he said, and my heart stopped. I swear to God my heart stopped in my chest. When he spoke, his voice was rough and abrasive. “He needs to know about what happened with the knight.”

I blinked slowly as what he said sunk in. “You’re not—”

“I just can’t.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t do this right now.”

The ripping feeling increased, gouging open a hole I knew would never be filled. I said nothing as he walked away, leaving me in the alley.

~

I didn’t go home immediately. I don’t know why. I just roamed around for the next several hours, expecting Kyle or other Order members to spring out from the horse-drawn carriages rolling up and down the narrow streets, or from the insides of the dark, tinted vehicles, and snatch me up as I patrolled the Quarter.

It didn’t happen.

I just didn’t want them to come to my apartment and take me in, not with Tink there. Maybe that was why I didn’t go straight home. But finally I wore myself out, and knowing I was supposed to go home hours before, I called it a night.

I’d crossed paths once with Dylan and then with Jackie, another member, but neither of them hissed “Halfling” and then proceeded to try and kill me. Ren hadn’t told anyone yet, or if he had, they weren’t making their move. I didn’t even care if Dylan and Jackie told David that I was still out. That was the least of my problems.

Every time I heard tires squeal, or someone walked up behind me too fast or too close, I tensed. That wasn’t good. I was a mess as I alternated between anger and sorrow throughout the evening. There were no fae to take out my aggression on, which was a damn shame, so I wanted to punch random, innocent people on the streets. Like drive-by throat punches. The messy, violent swelling of emotion was almost too much. And then when I realized how terrible it would be to just run around punching people in the throats, I felt horrible, which was worse.

Then I thought about Val and the pain increased.

And then I thought about Ren.

My heart broke all over again. I loved him—I was in love with him, and he . . . God, he had to hate me now. I kept checking my phone as I roamed the streets, and I didn’t even know why. Only a tiny part of me believed I would get a text or a missed call from Ren, a very small, dumb part of me. Of course, every time I checked my phone, there was nothing. But that small part destroyed the rest of me.

It took everything for me to keep walking, to keep looking for fae and not break down in the middle of Orleans Avenue, to not sit on the curb and just sob. I’d never been more relieved when my shift was over and yet reluctant at the same time, because I’d grown so accustomed to Ren coming home with me.

But not tonight.

Probably never again.

I was in a daze during the cab ride back to Coliseum, and when I walked into my apartment the lamp by the door had been turned on. Tink had also kicked the ancient furnace on, so the apartment wasn’t freezing, but the whole place smelled of burnt hair and dust.

I lifted the strap of my purse over my head and dropped it on the chair by the door. I looked down the hall and saw that Tink’s door was closed. There was no light peeking through the cracks. I walked to my bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me. I placed my phone on the nightstand. I didn’t really undress. All I did was toe off my boots and strip off my weapons, placing them on the dresser with the exception of one. I took my pants off, leaving them in the middle of the floor. I brought the thorn stake with me and climbed into bed, placing it next to my pillow.