Wicked (A Wicked Trilogy 1)

"Yeah," he replied. "Everyone could use a kiss on the cheek once in a while. Plus, the expression you make when you're confused is fucking adorable."

I started to reach up to touch my cheek but stopped myself before I ende

d up looking like a complete idiot. "You are bizarre."

"I think you kind of like my bizarreness."

I shifted my weight. "I don't know you well enough to like anything about you."

"Now you know that's not true. You know I'm from Colorado. I use a lot of sugar in my coffee. I steal bacon." He dropped his voice. "And you know I hand out cheek kisses to those in need of them."

"I . . ." What the heck did I say to that?

Ren stepped to the side, and my gaze landed on the man the woman had been with. Angry shouts erupted as he pushed the valet, trying to get inside the hotel.

The devilish smile slipped off of Ren's face as he glanced from the altercation to the entrance of the hotel. His hands curled into fists as his jaw locked down. As I studied him, I thought of Merle again. If anyone knew where the gates were, it would be her.

Chapter Seven

Ren and I made plans to meet up after the meeting on Friday. I didn't tell him that I thought I might know someone who'd have info on the gateway. I wasn't about throwing names out there, and he hadn't pushed it. Instead, he insisted on seeing me home, which was ridiculous considering I roamed the streets at all hours of the night due to my schedule, and he hadn't done so the night before.

Unless he had followed me home Thursday night and lied about checking my file just for the contact info, but if he hadn't done that, making sure I didn't get abducted on the way home or something was kind of sweet. Barely. However, the whole scaling the wall outside and letting himself into my apartment uninvited totally canceled out the sweetness.

Tink was passed out on the throw pillow when I locked the door behind me a little before three in the morning. His war paint was faded on his face and smeared across the fabric. I couldn't even begin to know how to get that out without it staining. Could you wash pillows? Ugh, Tink was going to owe me for this.

He must've been exhausted, because when I scooped him up and carried him into his bedroom, he remained asleep. I placed him on the small dog pillow he'd fashioned into a mammoth-sized bed.

Most of the time I avoided going into his bedroom, and as I backed out of it, I quickly realized that had been a good idea. He had an army of troll dolls lining the built-in bookcases that covered the length of the wall opposite his bed.

"Ahhh," I murmured as at least three hundred glassy black eyes seemed to be sizing me up. "So creepy."

I closed the door behind me and grabbed a Capri Sun pouch out of the fridge. Then I checked the French doors that led to the balcony off the living room. Pulling back the soft blue curtains, I found that the door was locked. Had to be Ren, because I doubted Tink would lock them.

After drinking my fruit punch, I poured myself into bed, and this time when I fell asleep I wasn't woken up hours later with some random dude sitting next to me. Close to ten in the morning, I forced myself to put on my running sneakers and not go into the kitchen and overdose on sweet tea or some other form of caffeine. That would be my reward if I made it back to my apartment alive.

Being a part of the Order required that I stay in shape, so I made myself run at least three miles four times a week. Combining that with the various mixed martial arts training we did with other members was the only reason why I didn't weigh a billion pounds since I ate pretty much everything and anything in front of me.

I needed to run since I hadn't done anything truly physical for any length of time since Wednesday morning. Couldn't fight the fae if I was winded easily.

Luckily the temps remained cool as I hit the outside stairs and the courtyard below, and I hoped that meant the cold season was coming sooner rather than later. Putting my earbuds in, I powered up the music app on my cellphone then opened the gate. I straightened the band on my nylon shorts and then started off, heading toward Kindred Hospital at a slow jog.

As always, my thoughts wandered when I ran, and not surprisingly, they drifted right to Ren. I still couldn't believe he actually kissed my cheek. Did he go around doing that randomly? For some reason, I wouldn't be shocked if that was the case. Ren was definitely a huge flirt, something a lot of the men in the Order were. Maybe it had to do with how dangerous our lives were, and they were all seize the moment kind of guys. So were the ladies. Except I liked to think we were a little more inconspicuous about it.

Ren was stupid hot, as in the kind of hotness that made you want to do stupid, fun things you'd most likely regret later, but that didn't mean I trusted him a hundred percent. He was a stranger, but all the Order members were strangers at some point, each one a complete unknown. When I came to New Orleans, I immediately had to put my life in the hands of people I'd only just been introduced to. If I needed backup, I had to believe that one of them would answer the call, and they had to trust that I'd do the same for them. We had to go welcome and join others without the fear of betrayal. Under the Order, we were one cohesive unit. We had been since its creation.

But that still didn't make it easy to trust newcomers. Ren had been up front with me about the Elite. Sharing that kind of information should've caused me to trust him more, but in a way, it only made me more wary. Why was he so willing to trust me with such old, secretive information? Then again, he knew that David hadn't taken my claims seriously and that half the Order probably thought I was riding the crazy-pants train. But if Ren was up to something shady, I couldn't fathom what it would be. What did he have to gain by making up the existence of the Elite or by lying in general? Still, I was uneasy about the whole thing.

I needed to talk to someone, but David was a no go at this point. I knew I could trust Val with the info, and I would, but I needed to know more before I opened my mouth. As I successfully crossed Foucher Street without getting plowed by an ambulance, I thought about Brighton's mom Merle. If anyone knew where the gate was, and if there was one in New Orleans, it would be her.

But did I really want to bring Ren to her?

That was the question that plagued me the rest of the run and throughout the afternoon. It was one thing for me to make risky choices, but to put others in the path of what could lead to disaster wasn't something I planned on ever doing again. I had to trust Ren before I introduced him to Merle.

I just didn't know if I could get to that point.

I made a plan to visit Brighton's house tomorrow. From previous experience, I knew Merle was usually up and out in their garden in the afternoon, and Sundays were usually . . . good days for her. I didn't need Ren there to ask the questions I needed to ask. The only thing I had to do was get through tonight.

Which I had a feeling was going to turn into a really long, really annoying night.

~

Five minutes late to meet up with Ren, I wasn't surprised when I neared Mama Lousy and saw him waiting for me outside the gift shop, leaning against the building. Dressed in dark denim jeans and a loose shirt that hid the weapons I knew were most likely attached to the sides of his waist and under his shirt, he looked almost like any regular hot dude hanging out in the shade. He wasn't looking at me, and all I got was the strong line of his jaw, but I could tell a half grin teased his lips. My stomach dipped as my steps slowed.

Ren had a certain aura of danger surrounding him, an impression of coiled and barely restrained power. He might have look relaxed with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his legs crossed at the ankles, but anyone who walked by him knew he could strike at any given moment.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show," Ren drawled without looking at me.

I frowned. He must have one hell of a peripheral vision. "Traffic sucks." I stopped beside him, quickly glancing at the tattoo on his arm. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with you today since you know your way around the city."

Tipping his head back against the wall, he exposed the masculine length of his neck. I never thought a guy's neck could be sexy before, but I realized just then that it really could be. His eyes were closed, and the long fringes of his lashes fanned out, dark and spiky. The soft grin continued t

o play along his lips. "I'm sure there are places you can show me."

The tips of my ears burned. For some reason, with that smile and that deep voice, his words held a different meaning. I shifted, smoothing my hands over my jeans as a gaggle of older women teetering on heels stumbled passed us. "Louis Armstrong Park is a great place to hunt at night."

He looked at me then, eyes narrowed. "I think you're trying to get me killed."

I cracked a smile. The park could be a wee bit on the dangerous side, which was a damn shame, because it was beautiful as were all the sculptures inside it. "You could feed the ducks."

Ren laughed then, and I liked the sound. It was deep and infectious. "Next you'll suggest I head out to the Lower Ninth Ward and wander aimlessly while holding several hundred dollar bills."

"Make sure you head east of Frenchmen Street while you're at it. Check out north of Rampart also."

"You're terrible," he murmured, shaking his head. "You know, New Orleans is really no different than any other large city. It has its good and bad parts."

"True," I agreed, watching the group of ladies cross the street. Two young guys were tailing them. I hoped those women kept a close hand on their purses. "Except we have a lot more fae here."