Page 19 of Twisted Fate

I stifle my laugh and arch a brow instead. “You want me to fear you? Too bad. I don’t. As for the respect? That’s earned. You don’t magically get it because you’re some supernatural leader.”

“How do you think I became a leader?” he challenges.

“I’m guessing some seriously dodgy politics.”

His laugh is a deep, rich sound that makes him seem dangerously human.

“I’m not going to stand here and pretend I understand anything about your world, Tristan, but I will say this: Allison is twenty years old. Fae or not, she’s young. Whatever she did, allow her a chance to make up for it, and she will.”

He regards me with an odd, almost confused look. “I don’t understand.”

I nod. “That’s two of us.”

“You’re so protective of someone who—”

“Could have killed me. I get it. But she didn’t, and she’s my best friend. I’d do anything for her. She’s probably scared out of her damn mind right now. All I’m asking is that you consider that when you deal with her.”

He tips his head back slightly. “What makes you think that matters to me?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

“I don’t care that she’s your friend, nor do I care how she feels. Our deal has reached its completion. You’re free to leave. Unless you’d like to take me up on that dinner I proposed? It’s not quite dinnertime, but I’d be willing to dine early this evening.”

My jaw clenches, and I fight the urge to punch him, knowing it won’t do any good. “You’re a real ass.”

“I believe you established that already,” he says without interest.

“Thought I’d repeat it,” I mutter.

He chuckles. “Anything else I can do for you, Aurora?”

I scowl. “So, I’m assuming you wiped Oliver’s memory, and that’s why he doesn’t think he went out last night.”

“He was a loose end.” He shrugs. “I could’ve killed him instead.” He lowers his face, and his eyes meet mine. “You’re welcome.”

“So you made him forget last night altogether?”

“Precisely.” He smirks. “You look nervous, Aurora.”

I stand straighter. I keep a neutral face as my heart pounds crazily; I’m sure he can hear it. My confidence might be a false bravado, but I’m holding on to it with everything I have.

“I’m not nervous,” I snap.

“Keep fighting it. It makes for wonderful entertainment,” Tristan quips. “So, dinner?”

“Are you kidding?”

He regards me with an amused expression. “You’re not hungry?”

“I’m not having dinner with you, Tristan.”

“Perhaps another time.”

I smile sweetly. “Yeah, perhaps not.” With that, I head for the door. Nothing about this situation is ideal, especially my lack of control. Allison means the world to me, but it’s clear there’s nothing I can do right now. I need another plan.

When I get back to campus, I spend an hour moving from one spot to another—from my bed to my desk chair and then to Allison’s bed and back to mine. Not knowing what she’s going through at the hands of Tristan Westbrook is making it impossible to sit still. My hair is a tangled mess from swiping my fingers through it so many times, so I pull it back into a bun. Every time I try to think of a plan to get Allison back, the rational part of my brain shoots the idea down, knowing it won’t work. The fae are too new to me. I don’t have a chance at besting them. Not yet.

I make the mistake of searching fae lore online. After combing through so many different legends, I doubt any of them will do me much good. One piece of information I read multiple times is one that Tristan confirmed himself: iron is poisonous to fae. I tuck that away for future reference because if I’m going to fight Tristan again, I want to be prepared. Nothing else I come across gives me a better idea of what I’m up against. I also make several notes on things to look through the next time I have an opportunity to go home. Family photo albums, heirlooms, anything that has a chance of tying any of my ancestors to the fae.

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