2 Hungry, Hungry Hoodoo (8 page)

Jaron’s presence filled the small area and saturated me. Everything about him was so familiar. It felt like if I looked at him long enough, everything would come back. I licked my lips. “Why did you follow me to the club?”

“I need you . . .” his jaw clenched, “to remember your obligations. If your plan has failed, it’s time to start mine.”

I reached up without thinking, about to run my hand along his tight jaw, but he dodged me. “How do you know I can’t remember?”

His eyes flamed as he looked down. “Have a seat, Selene. It’s going to be a long night.”

“I’d rather stand.” I had too much energy. I couldn’t sit still.

“Do I make you nervous?” His voice was low and soft.

My heartbeat quickened, and a smug smile tilted his mouth. I mentally pushed back against his aura and squared my shoulders. He was not going to intimidate me. “Should I be?”

He raised a thick eyebrow. “Fear isn’t weakness. Sometimes it’s smart.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then you underestimate me.” Something less than friendly glinted in his eyes. “Sit down. I may be helping you, but we’re doing it on my terms this time. You need me more than I need you. Never forget that.”

I sat and crossed my legs. He folded himself into the armchair that almost was too small, his legs spread wide. “Did you enjoy your memory?”

My cheeks burned. I did enjoy the damn memory. It had felt real. I wasn’t disconnected from myself in it. I could still feel his stubble scratching my face and the heat of his body. I shook off the thought and focused. “I’m with Cheney. Stop.”

“Oh, I’m only just beginning.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Would you like another one?”

I nodded, telling myself I was only interested to see if he could do it again.

“Come closer.” I moved down the couch toward his chair until our knees were almost touching. He leaned forward and waited for me to do the same. I swallowed my worry and rested my elbows on my knees. I could feel the heat from his skin. He hooked a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer until our noses touched.

I pushed against his chest, breaking his hold. “What do you think you’re doing?” My heart pounded and blood rushed through my veins. I couldn’t want to kiss him, but I did. I was with Cheney. I ached for Cheney.

A languid smile spread over his lips. “These are your rules, not mine.”

I shook my head. “What do you mean rules? You just touched my lips last time. No kissing was involved.”

“You cast this spell. You set the parameters of it. I am just following them. If you want more than snippets, if you want your life back, you have no choice.” He raised an eyebrow and waited.

I swallowed and chewed the inside of my cheek. I needed to remember. This wasn’t cheating—it was what I had to do. I closed my eyes and nodded, as if not seeing myself give in would make it like it never happened.

“This isn’t going to hurt.” His velvet voice almost made me forget the ache in my chest and the worry in my stomach. His lips crushed into mine, igniting a fire inside of me that burned all thoughts away until one memory took center stage.

I finished putting the last ornament in the elaborate twists in the back of my hair—a perfect buttercup flower. I scoured every inch of myself for flaws. The soft lemon colored silk dress hung just right. The empire waist and capped sleeves were lined with a luscious chocolate satin. I pinched my cheeks and pressed my lips together hard to enhance the color. My dressing room door opened and Jaron walked through with long strides.

He kissed my cheek and stood behind me with his hands barely on my shoulders, looking at us in the mirror. He was always so careful when he touched me, like I might shatter into a million pieces. I didn’t wait for a compliment—Jaron wasn’t the type and that was one of my favorite things about him. Too many men wasted poems and sonnets on me. I didn’t need pretty words; I needed strength and wisdom. Jaron had plenty of both. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

I flashed my most confident smile. “Perfectly.”

Meeting my father for the first time was equal parts terrifying and thrilling. My human mother died with my birth, a far too common story amongst half-elves. Father did not want to raise a half-breed child, so he gave me to his exiled sister, Aunt Lorelei. She had fallen in love with a human, refused to give him up, and was exiled from the fae. She had a son near to me in age, Sy, and took me into her warm heart. Father never came to see us, even once.

“He’s an important and influential man, Selene,” she would tell me. “He has duties far greater than us.”

But I was of age now, a woman by elven standards, and I intended to meet my father. The Erlking was hosting a feast in celebration of another successful hunt. Jaron procured us invitations; he was good at procuring things. And I was on a mission.

I walked into the glittering white castle, head high and eyes wide. I never dreamed of anything quite like this. It was utterly amazing. I glanced at Jaron and he didn’t look impressed—he rarely ever was. Jaron was older than me, worldly, but we fit together perfectly from the first moment I met him. If I was a spider, he was my web. We skirted along the edges, listening for Father’s name, Tahlik of Maern. When I was about to give up hope, Jaron pulled me to a stop and gave the smallest nod toward a man with smooth shimmering skin and eyes the color of melted gold. His nearly black hair was slicked back from his young face.

“How do you know that’s him?” I whispered.

“I made a point to find out what he looked like before we came tonight,” Jaron said.

I squeezed his arm. Then I released him and glided through the beautiful people to stop beside the man. He turned to me with a pleasant smile, but his face froze when he met my eyes. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. His hand crept toward my face. “You look just like Elizabeth,” he whispered.

“Hello, Father,” I said just as quietly.

Tears filled his beguiling eyes—and mine.

“I—”

“Hello, Tahlik. Who do we have here?” a voice came from behind him.

My heart stopped. The Erlking. My head snapped toward the floor and I curtsied but never looked up. The Erlking didn’t approve of mixing races, never had. I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to study the marble floor.

“She’s, well…” I watched my father’s feet shift uncomfortably. “No one. She’s nothing. A half-elf.”

The king snapped his fingers. I wasn’t certain what I should do. I began to explain and a hand took my arm. I looked back through the tears expecting to see Jaron, but two of the king’s guards blocked my view.

“Father,” I said. “If you would just talk to me—”

Neither the king nor my father acknowledged my words. The guards lifted me from the ground and carried me outside by my arms, tossing me unceremoniously into the night. I crumpled to the ground, ruining my new dress.

Strong arms lifted me up and crushed me in a hug. I sobbed on Jaron’s shoulder and he held me tighter, but still so carefully. “I’m sorry, my love,” he said, running a soothing hand over my back.

I opened my eyes, and Jaron sat back in his chair, watching me. I stayed in stunned silence. I did remember that. I never tried to speak to my father again after that night and he never contacted me. Jaron told me I didn’t need a father. I had Aunt Lorelei, Sy, and him, but I was angry and I couldn’t let it go. The anger built and built until I couldn’t contain it anymore. That was when I started losing control and destroying anything in my wake.

“Your lips taste different,” he said quietly.

“You’ve always been with me.” I didn’t comprehend his words. My mind was still spinning and blood was rushing through my veins as early memories poured back into me. It was like he broke the dam.

He looked down at his hands. “Why do you taste different, Selene?” The cold softness in his voice startled me back to reality. I tried to ignore the dizziness and talk to him.

“So this whole thing is about revenge because my father wouldn’t accept me? Am I really that petty?”

Jaron grabbed my hand and squeezed it until I was worried he might crack the bones. I tried to pull away, but he held on. “This incident opened your eyes to the world we lived in. Half-elves—and any fae who stooped to associate with us—lived in fear and exile. We were barely tolerated as servants. You endeavored to change that. You made the Abyss take notice of us. We are not inferior. Your rebellion wasn’t petty. It was revolutionary.” Those smoldering eyes drilled into mine. “Now tell me. Why do you taste different?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He licked his lips and looked suspicious, but I had no idea why. Finally he dropped my hand.

“How did you give me that memory? Why didn’t it hurt?”

Jaron’s eye twitched and his fists were clenched, but his voice was calm. “All things in time.”

“I need answers. Did you burn down my studio? Do you know where Michael is?”

He frowned. “I was only at your studio after it burned because I knew you would eventually come. I don’t know who this Michael person is. Do you care to elaborate?”

“Michael was a human friend of mine, and he was apparently taken. It wasn’t by the rebels?”

A bitter laugh came from Jaron. “We would no sooner raise a finger against you than you would against your cousin.”

I nodded.

He studied me for a long moment. “I can bring you back, Selene, but is that what you want?”

I bit my lip. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. “How do you have my memories?”

“You gave them to me. You were the changeling, and I was the key.”

“You said I had a plan. What was it?”

“To win the prince and take the throne.”

“How?”

“You have to kill him.”

I nearly choked. “What’s your plan?” I said between coughs.

“If you have become too attached to kill him, then I will do it for you. I’ll finish what you started. Pull our race from the gutters.”

I shook my head. “I can’t let that happen.”

He sneered. “Why am I not surprised? When I saw you with him at the coronation, looking at him so adoringly…” The knuckles on his fists turned white and he stood up so fast I jumped. “I have to go.”

“Jaron…” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name, distracting me from whatever I was going to say. The fine lines at the corners begged to be traced, such a contrast to Cheney’s flawless skin. The clenched muscles in his arms began to relax.

“Say my name again.” The low rumble of his voice sent chills down my spine.

I bit my lip, and my heart fluttered. “Jaron.”

He grimaced and opened his eyes, all emotion gone. “Tomorrow, same time and place.” He walked out without looking back.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the couch.

“So?” Sy asked, appearing in the doorway with Kat looking over his shoulder.

“I’m more confused than ever.” I looked over at them. “Is it possible I was in love with both of them?”

Sy thought about it for a moment. “Anything is possible, but I honestly never bought the idea you were in love with Cheney, no matter how much you paraded around with him. He stood for everything you were against your whole life. Jaron? Well, he was the perfect fit with the Selene I knew then.”

Nothing was better for getting my mind off of everything than hanging out with my friends and pretending everything was normal. Katrina had somehow managed to get everyone to the castle again, and she swore she didn’t tell them a thing about what was going on. She said Devin hadn’t been sleeping. Her dreams had been strange and filled with blood, so all the girls had been on edge. We were in one of the more comfortable, less formal rooms in the castle, lounging around. I listened to them gab and tried not to think about why I hadn’t heard anything from Femi, Baker, Olivia, or Holden. The wait was murder.

“Oh my gosh, Selene, you haven’t told us about the vampires,” Katrina said, clasping her hands in front of her. “Are they more
Fright Night
or
Vampire Diaries
? Not that it really matters. They’re all hot.”