Sandy Williams - The Sharpest Blade

The serum and the research should have been destroyed when we burned down the vigilantes’ compound in Boulder. The lab was there. So was a network of computers. But, apparently, Nakano was smart enough to back up the research and store some of the serum off-site.

I run my hands over my face. A minute ago, I was blissfully relaxed in Aren’s arms, but now, the stress and tension I’ve been living with for the past several months slowly seep back into my body.

“What time is it?” I ask reluctantly.

“A few hours from morning,” he says with a shrug. That was a stupid question to ask him. The days and nights in the Realm and on Earth don’t match up, so he can’t tell me the exact time. Even in the Realm, fae usually speak in terms of hours or half hours before dawn, noon, dusk, and midnight—the real midpoint of the night. Time isn’t as important to them as it is to humans.

“I contacted the vigilantes yesterday around noon,” I say, reaching for the laptop on the table beside the couch. “They might have replied.”

It’s a sign of how tired I am that I don’t realize what I’m doing until I open the laptop and press the power button.

“Torture, nalkin-shom ?” Aren asks at the same time that I say, “Shit. Sorry.”

I start to get up, but he laughs and pulls me back against him. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely,” he says. “Nick still has the power off, and you’ve chased away my headache.” He slides his hand, the one that’s under the blanket, over my hip, then down my leg.

“What does it say?” he whispers, letting his lips brush against my ear.

“Mmm.” I move my finger across the laptop’s touch pad, trying to concentrate on what I’m doing, not on what he’s doing. “I, um, need to log in.”

“Okay,” he says, letting his fingers skim lightly up and down my inner thigh.

I manage to get into my e-mail. I read the one new message that downloads to my in-box.

“The seller’s responded already,” I say. “He wants to know how long it will take me to get to Boulder.”

Aren’s hand stops moving. “Boulder, again?”

“Apparently, the vigilantes didn’t flee the city.”

We were there just over a month ago. That’s where Naito’s father set up his compound inside a closed-down ski resort. Naito and I and a few rebels went there to destroy the Sight serum. Normally, fae go out of their way to avoid human deaths, but the vigilantes are ruthless and cruel, and they’re a threat to the fae. We left the compound in ashes, and more than a dozen humans died. The Boulder police are calling it a cult suicide. The first part isn’t far from the truth, but the second? Aren and the rebels—and probably the remnants who eventually showed up, too—killed the vigilantes, who were waiting to spring a trap on us. Most of them were slain with swords, but Nakano wasn’t. Naito shot him twice before Trev used his magic to burn down the compound. Since it’s obvious the fae learned where the vigilantes’ base of operations was, I’m surprised any of them decided to remain in the city.

I start typing a reply.

“What are you writing?” Aren asks.

“I’m telling him I live only a few hours away and can meet him at six tonight. You can fissure me there?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. I click SEND, then look at him.

“Yeah,” he says, a warm smile on his lips.

“What?” I ask.

“You didn’t think twice about being the person who meets with them.”

I set the laptop aside. “Who else would do it? They would recognize Naito and Lee, and you can’t do it. They’d kill any fae who showed up.”

“They’d try to kill any fae who showed up,” he says. “My point is, you get hurt so often—”

“That’s not my fault. People keep trying to kill me.”

“I know,” he says with a laugh. “I know, but any normal human would say they’re done with this. They’d leave us to fight our own war. You don’t. You always pick yourself up and put your life at risk again and again.”

I tilt my head. “Are you calling me an adrenaline junky?”

His arms tighten around me. “I’m calling you brave.”

I return his smile, shifting a little in his arms. Then I rest my cheek on his chest.

“McKenzie?”

“Hmm?” I respond. His heartbeat is comforting. It could lull me to sleep.

His hand moves along my inner thigh again. “I think my headache is coming back.”

I open my eyes, grin up at him. “Is it?”

His chaos lusters, which have been on a pleasant, simmering after-buzz from our previous lovemaking, suddenly strike hotly across my skin.

“Oh, yes,” he says, pulling me higher on top of him. “It’s definitely back.”

SEVERAL hours after the sun rises, Aren and I finally tear ourselves away from each other. We need to get to Boulder, so we make plans to meet at the Vegas gate. Naito and Lee will be coming with us as well. They’ll recognize the vigilantes, and it doesn’t hurt to have a little human backup.

The wind whistles through my broken window as I pull to a stop in front of a hotel on the outskirts of town. I vacuumed out the broken glass at a gas station, but I think I might have missed a few shards in the back. Lee curses as he climbs into the car.

“Sorry,” I mutter when I look into the rearview mirror and see his reflection staring down at his palm. He plucks the glass from his hand without another word.

Naito doesn’t say anything either. Not even a hello to his brother. He hasn’t said much since we left Nick’s, and as soon as I hit the road again, the silence stretches between us. He’s not the same person he was before Kelia’s death, and even though I know it’s unreasonable, I can’t help feeling a little guilty after last night. Aren and I had what he lost, and our human-fae relationship is a reminder of what he’ll never have again. I don’t know if he’ll ever love someone like he loved Kelia.

Naito’s the one who told me that once I’d been with a fae, I’d never want to be with a human again. After last night, I believe him. I don’t have anything to compare it to, but being in Aren’s arms, feeling him move against me, then feeling the lightning strike between us . . .

The memory brings a rush of heat to my cheeks. That was definitely worth waiting for. It felt earth-shattering. Literally. I’m surprised there weren’t burn marks on the walls from the explosion of the edarratae . We reached the point where they coalesced into a disc of light four times during the night—a feat Aren insisted wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for me and my humanness—and I thought I saw a black scorch line on the walls long after the light disappeared.

I shake the images from my head, not just because Naito’s sitting next to me, but because Kyol’s picking up on my emotions. He’s training with his swordsmen right now, trying to reinforce his mental walls. Problem is, those walls keep his feelings from me more than they keep mine from him, and last night, I was incapable of building a barrier between us.

I feel like I’ve stabbed Kyol in the back. But I wasn’t naïve. I knew Kyol would know when Aren and I were together. I knew I’d have to deal with the pain of hurting him. I guess I just hoped I wouldn’t hurt him so much.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I need to focus on something besides Kyol and Aren.

“You going to tell him the plan?” I ask Naito.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but after I turn onto the rural road that’ll take us to the gate, he gives Lee a quick rundown of what we’re going to do in Boulder. The vigilante who responded to my e-mails didn’t give a name. I think whoever it is has watched a few too many espionage movies because he wants me to wear a red scarf and meet him at a bar.