“It doesn't have to be. When Romiel defeats your elf, there are still many good things you can do. Things I’d like to help you do.” Jake fancies himself a helper, does he? This is the first time he’s tried to ‘help’ with anything as far as I know. And how in the world did he get the elf thing?

  “I didn’t realize you want to be proactive in our little community here. I was told you haven't shown interest in helping,” I say.

  In fact, Jameson said Jake goes out of his way to avoid doing anything other than annoying people. He refuses to work with the rest at any job. He refuses to go out and help bring people in. Other than sleeping all day in the crappy room the Sidhe provided for him. He doesn’t do much that could be considered productive.

  Now he’s pestering me, but this is the first time he’s gotten the balls up to speak to me directly. The lust thing Phobe mentioned is a bit beyond me. How can you want someone you know nothing about?

  “Well, I figured I’m working more from the sidelines. Kael promised me a small ranch outside of town for helping him. You can stay there with me while they take care of the others,” he says, smiling. My eyes narrow. Do what? Did he just blatantly admit his betrayal so openly and then invite me to be his girlfriend at the same time?

  Is it attack-of-the-stupid-day?

  He caresses my face, which is something he should be smart enough not to do. I don’t exactly exude the cuddle vibe. If I didn’t need information from him, I’d rip his arm off and beat him to death with it. This time I ignore the desire to hurt him. I need more information. The way Phobe explained his ability works is that he needs the idiot here thinking about the subject matter to get it.

  Jake touches me again, and it makes me shiver in repulsion. I’m not surprised when he takes it to mean something else; men like him always do.

  “What do you mean? Take care of the others?” I ask, pushing down the urge to puke in his face, or rip it off and stomp on it. Either would make me happy.

  “Give them to the Schoth king as a gift for negotiating. They’re wanted traitors. Kael said it will be enough to secure the treaties.” It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to eviscerate him.

  Every ounce.

  “Have you and Kael been friends for a while then, Jake?” I say through gritted teeth. He nods as he kisses my cheek.

  Slowly I wipe the kiss germs off my face. I sincerely regret making the joke about him kissing me. ‘Phobe, you better be getting a lot of info right now.’

  “We’ve been acquaintances for years. He’s told me all about your illness. He said that when you have episodes, we can chain you, and it will help with the transition—”

  I can’t handle anything else coming out of his mouth. I interrupt, “Are there more of your friends hanging around?”

  He’s frowning at me now and starting to see through the transparent ruse. “You have no interest in me at all, do you?” I raise an eyebrow at his question. Duh. At no point in time since I came here did I show any sign of interest in him or anyone else. He came up with that all on his own.

  “Nope. Especially considering how you betrayed us all for a house. While idiotically believing that Kael will stick to any deal with you, which demonstrates how bad a case of the stupid you have.”

  “Betrayed you? I want to survive this. Someone like you should understand that. You’re not going to succeed, and I don’t want to die along with the rest of them.” Maybe we won’t succeed, but it won’t be him that stops us.

  My patience at an end, I mumble, “Please kill him before I do.”

  Jake’s frown deepens as, abruptly, a large clawed hand digs itself into his brown hair and pulls him away from me. I watch Jake’s face and try to find pity for the shifter, but I can’t. He speaks of the others as if they’re insignificant, thinking only of himself.

  “I told you it would be slower if he kissed you.” Phobe’s voice is a hiss in the darkness, gathering around the shifter he holds in an unbreakable grasp. They both disappear.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Iza, can I talk to you a minute?” At the sound of Ruthie’s voice, I pause while toweling dry my hair to look at her. I wave towards the bed. With a look of dejection on her face, she flops onto my bed. “I need advice.”

  “I’m flattered you’re asking me, but I’m horrible at it,” I tease while being truthful at the same time. Tossing the towel over the drying rack, I sit next to her, leaning against the headboard. I suspect that the advice she is looking for is of the romantic kind and I’m certainly not good with that, but I’ll still listen.

  “See, I kinda sort of—” She twists her fingers around each other nervously.

  “Have a crush on Michael? Yes, we all know. So what’s the problem?”

  She rolls her eyes at my question. I warned her I’m not the best person for this. “What if he doesn’t like me back the same way?” Her big brown eyes look at me, imploring and cutely pitiful.

  I laugh. I can’t help it. This is hilarious. “Why in the world would you think that?”

  “Well, when I try to talk to him, he turns all red and stares at the floor.” At her answer, I laugh harder. “What’s so funny about that?”

  Laughing for another solid minute, I wait until I can breathe right before I say, “Does he bring you meat in butcher paper?” She frowns and nods her head.

  “Does he also give you weeds that sort of look like flowers?” She nods again.

  “Did he take you on a picnic and pee on a tree?” When she nods this time, I start laughing all over again. Now I know where that internet search on romancing a werewolf came from on Jameson’s computer. Here I thought I would have something to tease Jameson about.

  Instead, I have something to tease Michael about.

  “Ruthie, tell him that you like him. Maybe he’ll stop peeing on trees,” I say, giggling in between words.

  “What if—”

  I cut her off. “Ruthie, he’s peeing on trees because he thinks that’s how the internet told him that you court a werewolf.” Her mouth falls open, and she blinks a couple of times. Then she giggles and giggles again. Within a few seconds she’s laughing so hard she’s holding her sides.

  Suddenly she hugs me and hops off the bed.

  “I’m going to get cleaned up and then tell him.” She leans over, hugging me again, and kisses my cheek. “Love you, Iza,” she calls as she runs out the door.

  “Love you, too,” I whisper, knowing it to be the truth. I’d die for these kids in a hot minute.

  Shaking my head, I stand and head towards the closet to look for some shoes. A chime of music in my head from the Sidhe brings my gaze around to the door.

  I’ll be damned.

  “Iza, I need to talk to you,” Michael says from my doorway.

  Turning towards him, I smile and ask, “Does it have to do with you peeing on trees?” The look on his face makes me break into laughter again.

  “How do you know about that?” he demands in a fierce whisper as he shuts the door behind him.

  “Something I have learned about the internet is that it isn’t always honest. Why in the world would you search on there for ways to romance a shifter?” I ask, sitting back down on the bed.

  “I’unno,” he mumbles.

  Lifting his chin with my finger, I look into his blue eyes and say, “Just tell her, Michael. Sometimes the most direct way is the best way to deal with these kinds of things. Saves you all kinds of anxiety and teenage angst.”

  He blushes and smirks. “I am irresistible.” Well, that escalated quickly.

  “Yeah, not trying to crush your dreams of stardom or anything but no you’re not. However, you might be to her. Now shoo. Go talk to her.” Leaning forward he, too, kisses my cheek and practically skips from the room. I handled that better than expected. Maybe this advice thing isn’t so bad?

  My stomach growls.

  Now it’s time to deal with other things. Heading towards my closet, I pause at the door for a few seconds in case any more romantically inclined people want advice. I’m on a roll. When no one comes, I grab my shoes and head towards the kitchen, stopping to put them on while on the way there.

  The sound of heated voices raised in an argument stops me in my tracks outside of the kitchen. Nika and Jameson. Stepping closer to the door, I wait to see what it’s all about.

  “I can’t believe you were talking to the new imps in their bathing chambers!” Nika says in a rather shrill voice.

  “Oh my god! You singed my hair! What’s the big deal? They’re nice, and I figured this was all right since I spent four fucking hours washing dishes.” Wow, he sounds mad. Washing dishes for four hours would make me mad too. I think Nika is taking advantage of Jameson’s reformation.

  I like it.

  “You should be out there raking leaves,” Nika says with that haughty tone to her voice that I hate.

  “Raking seems pointless because they keep falling. Why not turn into your fat dragon form and use your meaty, man hands to shake the leaves out of the tree?” Oh, he totally went there. I’m surprised she didn’t smack him. Meaty man hands. I giggle, unable to help myself.

  “Get out there and rake right now before I toast you like a kabob,” she threatens.

  The door swings open, and I step aside into the shadows. Jameson is so mad as he stomps past he doesn’t see me. Nika, slower to exit, does.

  “When are you going to admit you want to do him and stop being a jealous twit?” I ask as I brush past her into the kitchen. I agree that Jameson needs to prove himself, but I don’t agree with her being mean to him because she’s petty. This is something she needs to stop doing before I stop it. Jameson doesn’t deserve it.

  “My lady, I am—”

  “So jealous it’s turning you bitter. Jameson loves women, and if you’d stop being a bitch, you might have a chance with him,” I say as I start searching the cabinets for food.

  “Jameson is not the type of mate I would seek out.”

  “We both know that the destined mate shit is crap. That’s only in books. Dragons can mate with whomever they want to. My mom proved that.”

  “And look at what happened.”

  Her words stop me dead in my tracks. Turning slowly to face her, I squeeze the can of fruit in my hand until it pops. It’s the only thing that stops me from doing that to her head.

  “You know, I think for the most part you’re a sweet, kind person. Other times you’re a self-righteous bitch, and it makes me want to make a pair of boots out of your lizard ass. Stop being an asshole to Jameson. Either tell him you like him or stop liking him. It’s that damn simple. Now, is there anything else?” Her green eyes hold mine, and two spots of red are on her cheeks. She inclines her head and leaves the kitchen.

  Shrugging, I toss the destroyed can and keep looking for food. I spoke only the truth, and she knows it. Hopefully, it gets through to her. She and Jameson actually kind of fit. He’d remove the stick in her ass, and she’ll keep him from trying to stick things up every other woman’s ass.

  Looks like a good match to me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My nightmares are no longer just my own. They are quickly becoming the nightmares of others. The ones suffering. The ones in pain. The ones who will not make it here. I see it all.

  They’re in many different worlds, all different ages, and races. Some are trying in vain to get here because they won’t make it. Some died while I slept. There aren’t enough people to send after them. The fiends are limited in what they can do, and they can’t talk to people. They can only witness.

  Fuck.

  Holding my face in my hands, my heart weeps for them. I feel every second of their pain. There isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it. So many live their lives in poverty and abuse hiding from the Schoth, from themselves. Feyrie have become insignificant to everyone.

  They’re in even more danger now because I called them. Did I make things better or worse for them? That question now haunts me and, if you throw in the anger and crap about my mother, sleep is not my friend. Not that we’ve ever been friends.

  “You are troubled by things you cannot control.” I shouldn’t be surprised by his voice in the room, but I am. Since when did he start lurking in my bedroom at night? Oh, wait. This isn’t a new thing.

  Yesterday, I spent the entire evening building up my mental shields to keep snoopy pants out. I check them and see they’re still intact, so how does he know? Oh, there’s that thing he said about learning, too. How obnoxious of him.

  “This lady gig is shit.” Rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands, I swing my feet to rest on the cold floor.

  “You seem to be doing a good job with it.”

  “I didn’t peg you as a self-esteem coach,” I snap out.

  “I’m not, but I am your... friend?” My lips twitch. He sounds so uncomfortable using that word.

  The weight of him sitting on the bed next to me brings my body up against his. I rest my elbows on my knees and look over at him. His eyes are bright in the dimness as they stare at me. The feeling of his body heat soaking through my shirt gives me a strange sort of comfort.

  “I feel it all and part of me doesn’t want to,” I say into the silence.

  “Stop being a pussy.” At his no-nonsense tone, a surprised chuckle barks out of me, and just like that, some of the grief fades away. At least for now.

  “Don’t let yourself fall victim to guilt that’s not yours to carry, Iza. You can understand their suffering, and that’s something meant to be, but you don’t have to live it. You’ve already lived enough of your own.” He sounds all logical and Phobe-like. I can’t argue with it.

  Still, I don’t like it.

  “Fucking prophecy,” I mutter. At the mention of it, he shifts a little in his seat. Is Phobe uncomfortable? The idea of that completely amuses me and makes me suspicious at the same time.

  “Iza, has anyone told you more than your specific part of the prophecy?” Frowning, I stare at him and think about it. No. I can’t say they have. “You need to know the entire thing.”

  “Okay, since you know how it goes, enlighten me, oh great one,” I tease.

  He starts to speak, and as he does, my smile fades.

  “The prophecy is about the Shepherd’s death. The entire point is to piss the king off enough to kill all the enemies without killing everyone.” Son of a bitch, that really simplifies the entire thing. “It’s a way for the king to be forced to act whether he wants to or not, it’s a bunch of bullshit the One-God came up with.” After he gets done talking, I sit there a moment and digest everything. It’s a lot to take in, and I feel like I’ve been deceived my entire life. Well, I was, but now it’s worse.

  “So the version I’ve heard my entire life is the wrong version?” He nods at my question. “How does everyone know the prophecy anyhow? They teach it in school or something?”

  “Actually, yes.” That’s stupid. Why would you teach your kids something ridiculous like that? “Because they believe in it, Iza.”

  “Why did the dark king never sit on a throne, Phobe?”

  He stares at me for a while before answering, “The true king doesn’t need a throne. He is the throne.”

  “So, I can sit on him?” I ask, only half-joking. I need to talk about something else besides that stupid prophecy. The smile that breaks out on his too-pretty face makes me smile in return. Those damn dimples. Which makes me think of another face with a dimple. “Is Knox acting strange to you?” The smile instantly fades, and I almost regret asking. Almost.

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “I dunno. Something is off with him. I just can’t figure out what. Have you picked anything out of his brain?”

  “Iza, I can’t read Knox.”

  “Say what?”

  “Sometimes, creatures possess natural shields that keep me out. Unless I want to hurt them to get in.” He pauses. “I assumed you did not want me hurting Knox to read his mind.”

  “No, no, I don’t. Did you get anything off him?”

  Phobe shakes his head. “Iza, I will watch him and see.”

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I nod. I’m also going to take my own advice. I’m going to ask him. I stand up, and the digital clock on the wall reminds me that it’s three o’clock in the morning. Tomorrow. I’ll ask him tomorrow.

  Plopping back down on the bed I come to rest against Phobe once again. When his arm slides around my back, and he rests his hand against my side, I say nothing. It feels too damn good to mess it up. Resting my head against his shoulder, I sit there and let him hold me.

  Chapter Twenty

  I’m unsure why talking about the prophecy with Iza makes me feel this emotion she calls ‘uncomfortable.’ Her ignorance of it left a bad taste in my mouth. The entire situation does. Iza was kept in the dark about her place in things. I, too, kept her in the dark—but no longer. I made sure to break it down into Iza-speak too. Armed with the knowledge of the entire prophecy, she will eventually figure it out. There’s no hurry for her to do so, at least for tonight. I like sitting here holding her. If her relaxed state is any indication, she likes it, too.

  “So basically, no matter what I do—war and death are coming?” I nod, agreeing to part of it while watching her face and thoughts—those that I can see. She built her shields up again, and I can’t see everything in her mind, only bits and pieces of it.

  These shields are better than before. I don’t like them. I’ll remove them, but it will take time. Suspicion burns in my gut; I don’t believe that’s the only conclusion she came to. Iza is full of shit.

  Jake gave me some insight after I ate him. He had a ‘crush’ on her, an unhealthy one, but there were other people he genuinely cared about. I looked closely at a few of these feelings because it’s been so long since I ate a creature that cared for anything besides themselves, it’s enlightening.

  “Cool. Want some ice cream?” Her abrupt topic change can mean many things and, although we’re deeply bonded, I can’t easily discover this. Something I’ll remedy. As I stand up and walk towards the door, in the back of my mind, I go to work on her shields again. Iza should know I’ll always get in. I’ve warned her about it enough.

 

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