Page 3 of Twisted Gift

Her eyes widen. “I... okay, let’s do this.”

Heads turn the moment we walk inside, making it clear which of the patrons are fae. I suppose the good news is that the place is also filled with humans, making it easier for me to walk across the room without being ambushed by angry fae. Looking at some of their faces makes me want to hightail it out of here and never come back. To be fair, they don’talllook like they’d enjoy seeing my head on a stick—just most of them.

The place looks the same—not that it should look different. The old wood floor could still use a good buffing, and some of the upholstered booths along the wall of windows need replacing. I suppose the important thing is that the bar at the back of the room is fully stocked. On the other side of the room, the stage is empty, a microphone stand near the front of the raised platform.

Allison walks ahead, stopping at the bar. The lone bartender turns around to face us. This guy is rocking some epic stubble, and his dark brown hair falls across his forehead as if he’s gotten tired of pushing it out of his face.

“Can we get a couple of beers? Whatever you have on tap is fine.”

“Sure thing.” His eyes slide to mine, and the grin fades. “Aurora Marshall,” he says in a deep voice. “I suppose it’s good to meet you.”

I sort of chuckle. “Thanks, I think.”

Allison jerks her thumb toward me. “My girl here owns this place now. You should be nice.”

He pours us each a beer and slides them across the bar top. “On the house.” He pauses. “Well, consideringyouown the house now, the drinks are yours as well.”

I smile and take a small sip, hoping my stomach won’t reject it. “Thank you.”

He nods at us before we head for a hallway with several doors. I stop at the first one, trying the handle out of curiosity. When it turns, I peek back at Allison, who shrugs. Opening the door wider, I reach inside for the light. It flickers to life, humming over our heads, and we step into the room. It’s an office—nothing fancy—not like the one we came from. There are filing cabinets lining one wall. A large desk sits against the other. It could use some organizing, but that’s pretty close to the bottom of my list of priorities at the moment.

Allison perches on the corner of the desk, taking a sip of her beer before thumbing through a stack of papers that looks as if it hasn’t been touched in a while.

“I want to ask how you’re doing,” Allison says in a quiet voice almost as if she’s hoping I won’t hear it.

I set my beer on top of one of the filing cabinets and turn to her. “So ask.”

“You don’t want to talk about it. I can tell by the look on your face, but it’s been weeks since it happened, and I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m not,” I say. “I’m not sleeping well. I can’t stomach food. I’m tired and dizzy all the time, and I have no idea how to deal with everything.”

She takes a deep breath. “You know most of those issues will be resolved once you feed. I’m surprised you’re still on your feet at this point. The last time I went that long without feeding,” she shudders, “it wasn’t good.”

I arch a brow at her. “You make it sound like I’m going to be an emotionless monster.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m saying you need to feed.”

I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head in response.

“You do,” she insists. “After we leave here, I'm taking you to a feeder unit. No more arguments.”

Blinking at her a few times, I sigh and shake my head. I’m still getting over the fact that there are places where well-paid humans are willing to feed us.

Shuddering, I say, “A feeder unit just sounds . . . dirty. Wrong. But I guess it’s less wrong than feeding on the unsuspecting. Text me the address, okay? I’ll go, I promise. Just in my own time.”

She nods, her eyes scanning me briefly. “Your emotions are all over the place, Aurora.”

I groan. “Awesome.” Glancing over at her, I say, “I can’t see yours. I need you to show me how to block mine.” This doesn’t feel like a great place to start working on my fae abilities, but we’re here, and I need to figure this out—now, preferably. The sooner I can block my emotions, the better I’ll feel in front of the other fae.

“Okay,” Allison says with hesitation.

“I don’t need the fae knowing my insecurities, and if I run into Tristan, I don’t want—I mean, it would be easier if—please just show me.”

She nods. “You know I’ll do anything to help you, Aurora.”

I manage a touch of a smile. “Thanks, Al.”

“You betcha. All right, you ready to do this now?”

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