Page 58 of Twisted Fate

“Yeah, okay,” I say. “Before we go, why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?”

“And miss the look on your face when you saw me? No way.”

I narrow my eyes. “For an all-powerful fae leader, you sure can act like a twelve-year-old.”

He chuckles, arching a brow. “All-powerful, huh?”

I push him back a few steps and slide off the desk. “Why are you here? You wouldn’t waste your time teaching humans without your own agenda. You won’t teach me.”

“You must be upset about that, considering this isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned it,” he points out with an arrogant smirk.

“Whatever. Stop avoiding my question.”

“I was here to monitor a situation.”

“A light fae situation?”

“I want to make sure you’re safe.” His eyes meet mine and soften. “I don’t want you targeted because of me.”

“Screw that. Who I spend my time with is no freaking concern of the light fae.”

Tristan smiles as if he’s trying not to laugh.

“What?” I snap.

“Nothing. Just you.” His tone is confusing.

“Yeah, go ahead, laugh at the human who can’t protect herself from the supernatural. I’m hilarious.” I roll my eyes. “Mark my words, if I catch wind of more light fae targeting me, you can bet your ass I’m going to cut a bitch.”

“Take a breath, sweetheart. It won’t come to that.”

“Danielle tried to kill me. What makes you think someone else won’t try?”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he vows in a deep voice.

I glance away before nodding. “We should go.”

Never did I think I’d be walking out of class with Tristan beside me. While I’ve gotten used to his presence, I’m not used to the eyes that follow us the entire way to the parking lot.

Tristan goes through the Starbucks drive-thru on the way back to the hotel and orders himself a coffee. As I’m about to tell him what I want, he orders my usual iced caramel macchiato and drives to the window. He’s paid attention to the coffee I drink at the office. Something so minimal shouldn’t stick out to me so much, but it does.

Max pulls Tristan into a meeting the minute we get back to the office, so I drop my stuff and find Skylar in the conference room, poring over a stack of papers.

“Hey,” I say.

“You’re late,” she snaps.

“By three minutes,” I toss back, ignoring her defensive tone, and sit across from her. “What are you working on?”

“I’m going over the donors for the event. We’ve got more than enough, and I’m still waiting on a few companies to get back to me.”

“That’s great. Is the guest list finalized?”

Skylar pushes a sheet of paper across the table, and I scan it. “This looks good to me,” I offer.

“I don’t care what it looks like to you, human. I need you to take it to Tristan and get his approval.” She doesn’t spare me a glance.

I bite back my retort. It won’t do me any good. Pushing the rolling chair away from the table to stand, I grab the guest list and head for Tristan’s office. I knock and wait this time, knowing he was pulled into a meeting. One of his employees answers, and I hold out the list. “I need Mr. Westbrook to sign off on this.”

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