Atone: A Fairytale (Fairytale Trilogy) (11 page)

She could see the surprise in his eyes before he turned away from her, letting out a small gruff sound that she was pretty sure was a laugh.

“Well, you don’t need to continue this hunger strike. I can get food for you.”

Nicholas’s only answer was a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Unless,” she continued slowly, “you’re starving yourself on purpose. Seems like a painful, drawn-out way to go.”

He didn’t look back at her, and Becca knew she was on to something. “Do you want me to admit I’m too cowardly to end it any other way? Fine. I’ve said it. Happy now?”

“No,” she said softly. “That doesn’t make me happy at all. I’d rather see you fighting.”

He turned then. “Fighting what? How?” His voice was sardonic, but his eyes were resigned. “I’d rather die on my terms, even if they are more cowardly than one would hope.”

Becca felt suddenly irritated. Whether with Nicholas for giving up, or with herself for actually caring so much whether he gave up. And with the irritation came a kind of relief. She was used to being irritated with him. She knew how to respond to that. All of this empathy and guilt made her feel unbalanced and out of control. Anger was safe.

“Yeah, poor you,” she said sarcastically. She saw the annoyance at her tone flicker in his eyes. “You said yourself that you were angry and out for revenge—revenge on me and my friends! And yet here I am trying to help you. If all you want to do is play martyr and go slinking off to curl up and die…what a waste of my time.”

Becca pushed past him and marched toward the door. She could hear him growling behind her, but she was too incensed to care. “I’m going to get you food. Whether you eat it or not is up to you, but I’m certainly not having your starvation on my conscience.”

~

Driving down the hill to the nearest Costco gave Becca time to cool off a bit. Also, the further away from Nicholas she got, the more under control the seething power inside of her became. At some point she should probably spend some time considering why her fae power was asserting itself so strongly since she'd found Nicholas. Right now she was content to chock it up to frustration.

As she stared at the aisles, she realized she had no idea what to feed him. Based on the very carnivorous look of his teeth, meat seemed like the most obvious choice. Nicholas had always been health-conscious and fit. She would have hated to admit it to Alex or anyone else, but there was a reason women fell all over themselves for him, and it wasn't just his pretty face.

After filling her cart with red meat, she swung through the produce department and added some vegetables to the mix. She tossed a few frozen dinners for herself in the cart before checking out. As she watched the total ring up, she said a small prayer of thanks for the healthy credit limit on her card.

"Wow, that's a lot of steak,” commented the cashier.

“Family barbecue,” she replied shortly as she mentally calculated how long this much food should last Nicholas. He was nothing if not large. She was really just taking a stab in the dark as to the amount of food it would require to maintain that body mass.

"Must have a big family."

"Huge."

"I love barbecue." The cashier grinned at her as he slid another package of steak over the scanner.

Becca stared at him blankly for a moment.
Is he flirting with me?
She reassessed the cashier. He was near her in age. He was attractive enough, with light brown hair, dark eyes, and a very nice smile, although she could have done without the earring.

She honestly hadn't even noticed him. Her mind hadn't even strayed far enough from Nicholas to notice an attractive, age—and species—appropriate man who was potentially interested in her.

Becca managed what she hoped was a polite smile. "Everyone likes barbecue," she forced out through her gritted teeth.

What is wrong with me?
She castigated herself as she loaded her bags into the trunk of her Jetta.
Why am I even comparing him with Nicholas? I'm not even interested in Nicholas as anything other than what he is...

And what is he?
A little voice inside her asked as she got behind the wheel.

"Currently enchanted. Too old. Frustrating as hell. We're not even friends."

Becca turned the radio up loud enough to drown out that little voice before it could ask any more questions.

It took Becca several trips from her car into the house to carry in her groceries. Luckily the fridge was oversized, so she was able to shove the meat and vegetables into it.

Becca knew Nicholas had to be extremely hungry, but she also knew if he ate too much on such an empty stomach, he’d make himself sick.

“Why I should care, I really don’t know,” she muttered under her breath as she turned the oven on to preheat. But she did as evidenced by the sad fact that she was about to cook nearly fifteen pounds of steak. She was entirely sure that Nicholas would have no physical issue eating it raw, but she was worried about his emotional response.

“Yes,” Becca addressed the oven as she slid a huge roasting pan full of meat into it. “I’m now so far removed from reality, I’m worrying about Nicholas Hunt’s feelings. I should have my head examined.”

She left the tray of cooked steaks in front of the fake cabinet wall that separated Nicholas’s domain from the rest of the house. She didn’t bother to knock on the door or call out to him. She knew he could hear her moving around the kitchen, had probably smelled the meat as soon as she’d brought it into the house. The fact that he hadn’t come straight upstairs and eaten it right away was testament to how strongly he was controlling himself. Not that Becca cared. She was still angry at his giving up in the first place. He was probably still mad at her, too. Which was completely fine with her.

More than fine.
Becca headed up the winding stair case.
I don't need to sympathize with him to help him. What I need to do is stop worrying about Nicholas and his feelings and deal with the actual magic.

She flicked the light in her room on and stared at the bedside table in shock. The flash drive that she’d left, forgotten, in the media room was sitting on the nightstand. She picked the flash drive up and closed her fist around it.

He was reminding her she could go. She could leave and he wouldn’t threaten her or her friends again. She’d been telling him the truth when she’d said he didn’t deserve to be cursed like this; that she felt guilty.

Becca shook her head. Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was the thought of him being here alone…

Besides, how long would it be until someone finds him? At some point someone in his family will come looking for him and I can’t have them finding the mirror.

An image of their reflection in the mirror flashed into her mind and she swallowed uncomfortably against the thought that she wasn’t being entirely honest with herself. She set the flash drive back down on the night table.

~ Chapter Eight ~

B
ECCA ROLLED OVER
and stared at the ceiling. Her dreams had been filled with images of a beast. Except this beast didn’t have Nicholas’s all too human eyes, but dangerous, darkly golden irises that spoke of a power she couldn’t understand. She could remember the claws—wickedly curved and gleaming—reaching out for her. And the flash of burning purple-gold fire that had poured out of her in response. Then she’d woken up.

It’s not that she was scared to go back to sleep…it’s just that every time she closed her eyes she saw that fire against her lids. Even though she’d been awake for over thirty minutes, she could still feel the magic in her chest seething like it had been when she’d first awakened. Like it had been consistently around Nicholas—around the mirror. As if the power inside her was waiting to break something into a thousand pieces. Becca took another deep, calming breath, praying it wouldn’t be herself that her power decided to break.

There was a quiet sound, like a sigh, from across the hallway. Becca glanced up toward her closed door and realized her magic wasn’t still responding to the dream.

Giving up on sleep, she rolled out of bed and quietly opened the door, walking almost silently on her bare feet down the hallway. The “mirror room,” as she’d started referring to it, was dark, but a soft orange glow filtered through the floor to ceiling windows lining one wall to illuminate Nicholas’s large, shaggy figure sitting at one end of the room, as far away from the mirror as he could be and still be looking out the large windows. His back was to her as he stared out the windows. He was almost motionless, but after a moment Becca saw his shoulders heave in another great sigh.

“That’s an amazing view,” she said softly. The windows faced southwest. Beyond the line of trees separating the estate from its neighbors the city stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was almost like looking at an inverted sky. Only a few stars were visible as the glow from the city lights blocked out all but the strongest, but lights from the city twinkled like a million brilliant stars.

Nicholas didn’t turn around, but she could see him tense. “Yes.”

“Do you ever go out at night?”

“No.”

“Why? It’s so dark up here, no one would see you. You could just stay on your grounds.”

“It’s not being seen I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” Becca asked, confused.

Nicholas let out a low growl. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone.”

Becca blinked in shock. She hadn’t even considered that. Maybe it was his reaction to her suggestion that he hunt for food. If he couldn’t bring himself to kill an animal, it hadn’t even occurred to her that he might not trust himself around people. “Do you…have a desire to hurt someone?”

“Mostly just you.” His voice was gruff around the edges with what sounded suspiciously like laughter. Becca narrowed her eyes at his back.

“But that’s hardly a new impulse, is it?”

This time Nicholas actually did laugh, the rough sound rumbling in his chest. “No, I can’t say that it is.”

“I didn’t think so.” She grinned as she leaned against the wall and folded her arms. She didn’t want to move up closer to the window—closer to him; it seemed like it would shatter the moment. They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking down at the lights. It’s almost mesmerizing, Becca thought. The magic fire burning in her chest and settled down to a warm flame. The feeling of being in control of it gave her a sense of relief and she almost sagged against the wall. She hadn’t realized how much trying to keep it under control had been taking a toll on her body.

“I wasn’t sure at first…I mean, when I first started…changing.” Nicholas finally broke the silence.

Becca’s eyelids flew open. They’d started to drift shut during the long silence. She stared at Nicholas’s broad back. His head hung forward in a kind of defeat. “That’s why you have the handcuffs.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” he finally admitted. “I thought…I guess I thought if I started thinking and feeling things I didn’t want to, that I’d handcuff myself to something.”

“And just, what? Stay there forever until you died?” Her voice was harsher than she’d meant for it to be.

He shrugged. “Yeah. In reality I think could’ve easily broken them.”

Becca raised an eyebrow. Those handcuffs were made of steel. But she’d felt some of his power and she suspected he’d been keeping a leash on it even when he was angriest with her, so she didn’t doubt him.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he added.

“For? Oh, for handcuffing me? Yeah, not cool.”

“I was desperate, but that’s not an excuse.”

“You certainly didn’t want me here,” Becca half-agreed. The thought that her presence had driven Nicholas to anything that could be described as desperation irked her.

“No. I didn’t.”

Becca didn’t ask if his position had changed. She’d wondered if giving her the flash drive had been an attempt to get her to leave. She’d told him she would try to help break the spell on him, even if they had all the information he’d had on Lilia. Having this much magic sitting in the middle of the Southland wasn’t really an acceptable situation. “Seriously, what’s up with this house? There’s no way anyone could afford this on a museum staff person’s salary. Are you independently wealthy, Nicholas?”

“Actually, I am.”

Becca almost choked on her own laughter at his tone. “You don’t sound as happy about it as one would expect.”

“My grandmother passed away a year ago and left me the house and some money.”

Becca immediately regretted her teasing tone. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Were you close?”

“Yes. Closer to her than to my parents. They actually live about a mile from here. I haven’t seen them in five years.”

Becca had no idea how to respond to that. She and her parents had their ups and downs, and her parents had each made some spectacularly bad choices in life and love, but she’d never once doubted that they loved her. She could tell from the almost disinterested tone in Nicholas’s voice that love was not something he associated with his parents. And she could tell that the last thing he’d want from her was sympathy. “So what did your grandmother do? She was obviously pretty successful at it, whatever it was.”