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I just nod before looking back at him. “I’ve heard tales of humans that are immune to bitten fey. They’re rare, but they do exist. It doesn’t explain why your blood healed her though. Then again, with the world being so unpredictable now, it could be an anomaly that has formed in your blood. We’ll study it tomorrow to see what we can come up with. In the meantime, I’m stealing Zee. He needs to be working out his magic.”
Zee mutters something about psychopaths training killers, but I’m not really paying him much attention.
As Zee and Drackus leave the room, Chaz comes over to the side. “I’ll dust her memories until we know for sure what’s going on.”
He lifts his hand, but I grab his wrist, halting him. It almost burns to touch him as his eyes try to shift to flakes of gold, but immediately the burning dies down just before I remove my hand. Apparently the fairy has a few defensive tricks.
“No. Hell no. She knows we exist now, and she stepped in front of me even though I know my eyes were showing their true color. I’m fairly sure my fangs and dropped, too,” I protest. “Yet she stepped in front of me. I don’t want her forgetting it, because I need to talk to her about who she really is. She has to be fey, but she may not know it.”
Karma quickly interrupts Chaz before he can speak. “She’s human. I told you that. She’s not fey.”
“You’re wrong. We don’t even understand your power yet.”
Karma is glaring at me when I look over my shoulder. “She’s good at that part of her power,” Chaz says, forcing me to turn my head again. “If she says the girl is human, then she’s human.”
Fuck this.
I pick her up, cradling her to my chest, and walk out without standing around to listen to more. Her white sundress is splattered and drenched in drying blood. It looks like I’m taking back a victim instead of a sleeping girl. Then again, I suppose she’s both.
Gage appears at my side once I reach the shadows that have been cast by the woods, and before I can object, he’s dematerializing us both. I really hate the fucking weightless sensation that is involved with my molecules being rearranged, but as we cross through the planes and suddenly end up in my house, I shrug off the lingering twitches.
He says something I can’t hear, but I probably can’t hear it because I’m too busy concentrating on my girl. I strip her out of her bloody dress, tossing it in the trashcan next to the door. But suddenly the dress is back on her, and it’s like brand new.
“Damn it, Gage,” I groan. “She’s going to be confused if she wakes up in a shiny dress that should be stained with blood.”
I turn to see him leaning against the doorjamb, seriousness
etching every feature of his face. “Sorry, but I think it’s best if she doesn’t remember. At least not until we do our own research.”
Immediately, I think back to him mumbling as soon as we got here, and I curse.
“You already dusted her memories, didn’t you?”
He gives a slow nod of his head, and I fight back the desire to rip his arms off and beat him with them. The only thing that finally stops me is Roslyn whispering my name in her sleep.
Gage disappears from the room, not giving me a chance to change my mind. Now I’ll have to wake up and act like nothing ever went wrong whenever Roslyn decides to come around. I don’t want to pretend. I wanted honesty between us—well, a much honesty as possible.
Roslyn tucks herself against my side as I settle in beside her, and I stare at the ceiling while running gentle patterns down her back.
What if she’s not fey? What if she’s immune to venom?
What if I can’t keep her?
Figures I finally find something I want for myself, only to find out it’s not mine to keep. I suppose it’d be a fitting punishment for the years I spent being the sort of monster I hunt now.
Chapter 12
ROSLYN
Warm arms are wrapped around me, and a gentle breath blows against the back of my neck. My eyes dart down to Thad’s hand that is cupping my breast in his sleep, and I smile until the night rushes back to me.
Memories and images assault me in incoherent bursts, and I suck in a deep breath as a tremble wracks my body.
I was seconds away from blacking out as fear and fury battled within me, trying to stop the psychopath in my living room from stabbing Thad…
My eyes dart down to my white dress, and my hand comes up to my stomach. Nothing. The dress is perfect, crisp, and white. There’s no wound. There’s no damage. There’s not even any pain.
I look around, realizing I’m in Thad’s room, on his incredibly soft bed, and definitely in his arms.
