Ink Exchange (Wicked Lovely 2)

“I’d rather go to the club.” Niall didn’t even glance at Seth. Instead he watched her with a pensive look, as if he were studying her. She liked it far too much.

“I need to bail,” she said. She didn’t wait for an answer but simply turned and left.

But Niall was standing in front of her before she’d gone more than a half dozen steps. “Please? I’d really like you to join us.”

“Why?”

“I like being near you.”

And she felt a surge of the confidence she’d been filled with in fleeting moments since she’d been tattooed.

“Come with me?” he prompted.

She didn’t want to leave. She was tired of running every time she felt afraid. That fearful girl wasn’t the person she’d been before; that wasn’t who she wanted to be. She let go of the fear but couldn’t answer.

He held her gaze as he lowered his head toward her. He didn’t kiss her, though—just leaned kissably close and asked, “Will you let me take you in my arms…for a dance, Leslie?”

She shivered, confidence swirling with a surge of longing for the peace she could almost taste, peace she was suddenly sure she’d feel if she slipped into Niall’s arms. She nodded. “Yes.”

CHAPTER 11

Niall knew better. He knew not to allow himself so very close to temptation. He was to keep the queen’s mortals safe while Keenan and Aislinn sought out the Dark King. Protecting Seth was easy: the mortal was the closest thing to a brother Niall had ever had. Leslie was more difficult: Niall knew he shouldn’t even be considering seducing a mortal he was to protect.

This is work, just like any other day. Think about the court. Think about vows.

But it was hard to think about the Summer Court—or the Dark Court, for that matter. Niall had been a confidant to both kings, and now he was relegated to caretaker of the Summer Queen’s mortals. Everything had changed when Keenan found Aislinn, the mortal who’d been meant to be his queen, and despite the fact that Niall was happy for his king, his friend, there was a sudden absence in his life. After centuries of advising Keenan, Niall was without purpose. He needed direction. Without it he became…not of the sunlight. It frightened him, these too-frequent flashes of the memory of what he had been before he’d been taken into the Summer Court.

Being around Leslie had become a reward—and punishment. His unexpectedly intense longing to be near her the past week or so was complicating an already unstable situation. He was staring at her again, and Seth noticed.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Seth glanced pointedly at Leslie.

Niall kept his expression carefully neutral; Seth knew him too well. “No, I don’t suppose it would be.”

Leslie seemed oblivious, lost in her own thoughts, and Niall wished she would share them with him. He had no one he could truly share such things with. Until he’d seen Aislinn and Seth, he hadn’t realized—admitted—how he longed for that. Even Aislinn and Keenan had a beautiful bond, while Niall was increasingly disconnected from everyone. If Niall kissed Leslie, pulled her into his arms and let himself lower his guard, they’d be far from disconnected. She’d be his, willing to press her body against his, willing to follow him anywhere.

It was both the temptation and the trouble with mortals. The caresses of some faeries, Gancanaghs like him and like Irial once was, were addictive to mortals. Irial’s nature had been altered long before Niall ever drew breath. Becoming the Dark King had changed him, made him able to control the impact of his touch. Niall had no such recourse: he was left with memories of mortals who’d withered and died for lack of his embrace. For centuries, those memories were reminder enough to restrain himself.

Until Leslie.

Niall could hardly look at her as they walked. If Seth weren’t with them…Niall felt his pulse race at the images in his mind, at the thought of Leslie in his arms. Not for the first time, he was glad he had Seth’s company. The mortal’s calm seemed to help Niall remember himself. Usually.

Niall stepped a little farther away from Leslie, hoping—irrationally perhaps—that distance would bolster his self-control.

Keenan had been suggesting Niall pursue a relationship of his own now th

at the court was strong—growing stronger by the day—but Niall didn’t imagine he’d be permitted to do so with a mortal, especially one Aislinn wanted sheltered. His king wouldn’t ask him to disobey their queen.

Would he?

And Niall had no intention of betraying his king or queen’s trust, not willingly. They’d asked him to keep the mortals safe, and so he would. He could resist the temptation.

But he still had to fold his hand into a fist at his side. The urge to lay his skin against hers was a compulsion he hadn’t felt so strongly in centuries. He stared at her, looking for some clue as to why her, why now.

Leslie realized that Niall was staring at her again. “That’s sort of creepy, you know?”

He looked amused, the corner of his scar wrinkling as he smiled ever so slightly. “Did I offend you?”

“No. But it’s weird. If you have something to say, speak.”