Torn (A Wicked Trilogy 2)

to the entire world—”

“Why would I out what you are? Your kind, your Order, would kill you before you took your next breath. No one who wishes to not incite my wrath will betray you.”

Well, that was . . . kind of good to know. At least I could mark that one thing to freak out over off the list. “Anyway, you can make me do a lot of things, but you cannot make me do that. Ever.”

His head cocked to the side. “Is it because you’re in love with the human male?”

I blinked, jerking back. He said the word love like he was utterly unfamiliar with the term. “What?”

“The man who rushed to your side when you were injured. The one who has been spending every night at your place.”

Oh no. I started to stand but my legs were weak.

The smile reappeared. “How much do you value his—?”

“Don’t,” I warned, voice barely audible. “Don’t threaten him.”

He chuckled then, and it almost sounded real.

“Loving someone else has nothing to do with it. Even if I were single, I wouldn’t have sex with you.”

“I would,” a man said as he stopped in front of the bench. He grinned at the prince. “Just saying.”

The prince winked in return.

I waited until the other man had roamed off before I continued. I made sure my voice was low. “I am not having your child and ensuring that your kind takes over the world. Sorry. That’s not going to happen.”

“Are you a wagering type, little bird?”

I stared at him a moment. “This is insane. You nearly killed me. You’re a fae that wants to take over the human realm. There is literally nothing you can say or do that will—”

The prince moved fast, too fast for me to track. He was suddenly directly in my space and his cool hand was curved around the nape of my neck, smashing my curls. I tried to pull back, but yep, I was getting nowhere without breaking my own neck.

“Let go of me,” I ordered, moving my hand to my left side. If I had to stab him, even if the only thing it did was piss him off, I would.

“You can fight this all you want, but I know the game and the rules,” he said, and my stomach roiled as his icy breath coasted over my cheek. “I know how this ends, little bird. And trust me, you will be consenting sooner than you realize.”

Chapter Six

The prince just got up and walked away. Walked on down Decatur like he was out sightseeing wearing leather pants in seventy-degree weather. I think he might’ve walked into Jackson Square. Maybe he was going to check out the statue of Andrew Jackson? Or maybe he’d cross the street again and try some beignets or coffee mixed with chicory?

And I just sat there, sort of stunned and kind of wanting to laugh. Not the good kind of laugh. I was back to the slightly crazed kind.

What had just happened?

I was trying to comprehend the entire conversation, but the prince getting up and walking away was perhaps the most unexpected part. He didn’t try to force me to go with him. Oh God, was Tink right? Was the prince going to attempt to woo me? Nausea hit me in the stomach, and I might’ve puked a little in my mouth. Was that why he had only creeped me out but didn’t try anything else?

I knew I needed to say something. It was my duty to inform David that the prince was out and about.

Pushing up from the bench, I drew in a deep breath and slid my sunglasses back onto my face. What could I say though? How could I explain to anyone that I’d seen the prince but he hadn’t attempted to harm me? It might be believable if I was any other Order member and not the one who’d chased the prince down and spent one-on-one time with him, getting my ass handed to me. I could say that the prince hadn’t seen me. That wasn’t entirely impossible.

Nervous energy filled me as I waited for the traffic to clear on Decatur. The best thing for me to do was keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. I had to warn other members that the prince was out and moving around the city. It was a safety concern. But it was more than that. It was my duty—a duty ingrained in me since birth and I couldn’t deny it.

The Ivy before the whole halfling business would’ve done the right thing, and I was still her.

As I crossed the street, I thought about texting Ren, but I didn’t. Not yet. There was something I needed to take care of first, the reason why I was out in the first place, and that had nothing to do with getting beignets.

I headed northeast on Decatur then turned left on St. Phillips, making my way toward the headquarters of the New Orleans branch of the Order. The twenty minute walk helped slow down my heart rate, but it did nothing to ease the anxiety building within me.

When Mama Lousy’s gift shop came into view, I noticed right off the bat that things had changed. The shop was closed, and since it was Sunday, that was unheard of. The gift shop was really just a front for the Order, selling fake voodoo stuff and yummy pralines. Jerome, a grouchy retired Order member, usually ran the place. I hoped nothing had happened to him. He could be a real dick, but he was kind of a lovable dick.

Dylan was standing outside, leaning against the deep burgundy wall next to the door that led upstairs. To the average passerby, he looked like some strange dude loitering, which meant he blended right in with his dark denim jeans and gray Henley shoved up to his elbows. He was wearing sunglasses and his built arms were crossed over his chest.

My steps slowed as he turned his head in my direction and said, “Oh look, she is alive.”

I arched an eyebrow as I stopped in front of him. Order members weren’t exactly a warm and friendly bunch. Probably had a lot to do with our high turnover rate. Most of us died before you could even get to know someone. Val had been different, though. From the first moment I’d met her, she’d welcomed me while everyone else was standoffish. Another reason why her betrayal cut so deep.

Ren had been different, too.

He was friendly and warm, but he also had wanted to get in my pants from the moment he saw me, and that was straight from the horse’s mouth, so . . .

“Why is the gift shop closed?” I asked.

“Jerome came down with a cold and David didn’t see the point of bringing anyone down for this,” Dylan explained. That made sense. There weren’t a lot of retired Order members around these parts who would want to come in and deal with the public.

“Glad to hear he’s otherwise okay.” I glanced into the dim shop. A few fake skulls sat on a stack of praline boxes.

“You were worried about that old coot?” Dylan laughed. “He’s going to outlive a nuclear war.”

My lips twitched. “Probably. So, what are you doing out here?”

“Fae know our location now since that bitch led the prince here.” Dylan propped a booted foot against the wall. “The door has to be guarded.”

I wanted to point out that one Order member probably wouldn’t be able to stop an ancient, but figured that wouldn’t win me any friends. “Makes sense,” I murmured, reaching for the door.

“Hey.” Dylan stopped me halfway in. “Glad you’re doing okay.”

Surprised, I looked over my shoulder at him. All I saw was my reflection in his sunglasses.

“And sorry about that shit with Val,” he continued. “I know you were close to her. That isn’t easy to deal with.”

My fingers tightened on the handle. “No, it’s not,” I admitted, angling my body toward him. “Did you suspect something?”

“Not until David had me watching her, but I didn’t see shit that would’ve made me suspect anything.”

And David had put Dylan on Val-duty because Ren told him that he suspected she was the halfling.

“Strange thing is, Ivy, I saw her kill fae.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Like, how fucked up is that? She was working for them and still killing them?”

“She had to keep up appearances, I guess.” Saddened by that fact, I turned back to the stairwell. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yep,” he said.

I pushed my sungl

asses up onto my head and started climbing the steps—steps that I had almost bled out on when an ancient had shot me with a gun he’d manifested out of thin air. An ancient that David had refused to believe was around.

The stairwell always smelled like sugar and feet, a gross combination. I hesitated on the second-floor landing. Irrational dread formed like a lead ball in my gut. The last time I’d stepped through this doorway, I’d found Doc Harris dead on the floor, his gaze blank and fixed on the ceiling.

Taking a deep breath, I hit the buzzer and looked up at the small camera. I had no idea who was monitoring the door. If there wasn’t anyone, I had a key and could—

The door opened suddenly. Ren stood there. I so was not expecting to see him already. “Uh . . .”