Torn (A Wicked Trilogy 2)

over shortly. Just hang tight, okay?”

Brighton hesitated and then sighed. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” I started to hang up and then stopped. “I talked to Jerome. He knows something, but he warned me to not poke around about these fae.” I kept my voice low as people passed me. “You haven’t mentioned this to anyone else, right?”

“Who else would I tell?” She laughed, and it sounded forced. “Everyone already thinks my mom and I are crazy. No reason to give them further ammo.”

She had a point. “Okay. I’ll be over soon.” As soon as I disconnected the call, the phone rang again. This time it was my home number. I answered. “Tink?”

“How’d you know it was me?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Who else would be calling me from inside my apartment?”

“I don’t know. People. Ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” I turned, walking back toward Canal.

“Maybe they can use phones. You don’t know.”

“I’m pretty sure ghosts can’t use the phone,” I replied dryly. “Is there a reason for you calling me?”

He huffed. “I have a reason. I was calling to tell you I set up the answering machine for you.”

I’d forgotten all about that. “Thanks.”

“And I also might’ve ordered something else. Okay, I definitely ordered something else. But not from Amazon. You can’t get these from Amazon.”

“Okay.” I picked up my pace, knowing more cabs would be on Canal. “What did you order?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Oh no. “Tink, I don’t like your surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.”

“Doubtful. What is it?”

“You’ll see when you come home. Bye!” Tink hung up on me.

I glanced down at my phone, half-tempted to call him back, but figured I didn’t have the brain space to deal with whatever he was up to. Catching a cab on Canal, I gave him the South Peters address, which earned me a puzzled look. Whatever. I’m sure the cabbie had driven people to weirder places.

As I stared out the window, I remembered the crack of Henry’s neck and winced. What was I going to do about that? I knew I had no intentions of going to David or law enforcement, and I knew that didn’t say great things about me. What I needed was more information from Ren about what he knew that led him to believe there was now such a risk.

Traffic was a pain, and it took about twenty-five minutes to get over to the old power plant. The moment I stepped out of the cab, the man tore out of there like an army of bats was chasing him. Guess I was going to have to Uber it back out.

I eyed the sprawling brick building that was several stories high and had many broken windows. I approached one that looked like a basketball had been thrown through the glass, and peered inside.

“Yikes,” I murmured, seeing overturned, broken workbenches and chairs. I really couldn’t see more than that through the window I was peering into. The place was incredibly dark.

Stepping away, I made my way to the end of the building and down the side. A tall metal fence enclosed the back and obscured most of the rear of the building, but there was no mansion inside. A trailer could fit back here and be hidden. Maybe a single-story home, but definitely no mansion. I walked the length of the fence, looking for a possible opening and not finding one as the scent of the nearby river grew stronger. A narrow alley appeared, and it looked as abandoned as the power plant.

There was nothing here.

Shows a totally different city.

I was going to have to get in front of Brighton and see whatever she was looking at to figure it out. Pivoting around, I hurried back up the side of the building, toward the front as my phone went off again. This time it was Ren. My stomach dropped, a mixture of excitement and unease. “Hey,” I answered.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Um.” I glanced inside one of the broken-out windows and saw a flutter of wings. A pigeon. “Nowhere. Where are you?”

“At the apartment. It’s been taken care of.”

I wrapped my arm around myself, glancing up at the thick clouds as a shudder worked its way through me. That was extraordinarily quick. “Ren . . .”

“What?”

I swallowed hard as I looked around. There was some kind of industrial business across from the old power plant. There were a ton of white utility trucks, but no one was moving about. “We need to talk about what happened.”

He didn’t respond.

I lowered my chin as I worried the inside of my lip. I needed to go to Brighton’s, but I had to take care of this first. “I’ll meet you back over at your place, okay?”

There was another gap of silence and then he said, “I’ll be waiting.”

I hung up the phone and started walking again. I’d taken a handful of steps when I caught a sweet, minty scent that reminded me of Ren’s earlier kisses.

I turned and looked over my shoulder. I don’t know what I expected to see, but there was no one here, and nothing that could be responsible for the scent. Weird.

It took no time to get to Ren’s since the power plant was close to his place. I shifted from one foot to the next the entire ride up the elevator. He opened the door as soon as I knocked, appearing the same as when I’d left, tall and beautiful, and I wasn’t sure why I was looking for something different. Like he’d have the words “I killed someone for you” stamped across his forehead.

Ren stepped aside, and I walked in. The scent of coffee was strong in the air. My stomach turned. He’d snapped Henry’s neck, got rid of the body, and returned home to make coffee.

So cold.

I stared at him as he closed the door, and the unease in the pit of my stomach doubled. Turning away, I lifted the strap of my bag off my shoulders and placed it on the arm of the couch. I didn’t look at the spot on the floor where Henry had fallen.

Ren brushed past me, walking into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No.” I followed, keeping my arms at my sides. “What did you do with Henry?”

“You probably don’t want to know.” He picked up his cup of coffee and took a drink. “No one is going to find him, though.”

My gaze flitted to his and then I looked away, shaken by his blasé attitude. “Who are you?” I blurted out.

Ren slowly lowered the cup. “Excuse me?”

“You’re freaking me out a little. Okay, a lot,” I admitted, placing my hands on the kitchen island. “You straight-up murdered Henry and you’re acting like today is just any normal Wednesday.”

“I did not straight-up murder someone. He was going to hurt you. So will Kyle. I cannot allow that to happen.” He stepped back, crossing his arms. “I am protecting you.”

I stared at him. “I get that you were protecting me, but Henry didn’t even try anything. I wasn’t in immediate danger.”

“You would’ve been. You still are,” he reasoned. “And if you’re wondering if I will do the same to Kyle, the answer is yes.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Why are you so surprised? They will kill you, Ivy. Just because they haven’t tried anything yet doesn’t mean they won’t once they realize they can’t easily use you to trap the prince.”

He had a point, but it was the method in which he had carried it out. And it was more than that, too. This wasn’t like Ren. Not at all. Frustrated, I reached across the counter and picked up his coffee mug. “May I?”

“Have at it.” He gestured with one arm.

I took a drink and immediately recoiled at the bitter taste. “Whoa.” I placed the coffee cup down as I stuck out my tongue. “Holy crap, that is some strong, black coffee.”

“It’s the way I like it,” he stated.