Page 12 of Taken By the Fae

I’ve only seen them a handful of times over the few years I’ve known Allison, but come to think of it, they struck me as impossibly attractive when we met the day Al and I moved into the dorm.

“How old is Tristan?”

“I’m not sure exactly, but it’s under a hundred.”

“Oh-kay.” My voice is low, and panic creeps into the tone.

“We can also shift into dreams,” she adds. “Though most fae call it dream walking.”

My breath hitches, and I rake my fingers through my hair, pressing them against my scalp as my mind races. “Have you ever done it?”

“A few times, just to see what it was like,” she admits.

“Have you ever done it tome?” The question tumbles from my lips, though I’m not convinced I really want the answer.

She shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’d never do anything to risk you finding out about me.”

That eases a bit of the tension in my muscles, and I sigh wearily.

“Listen, I know this is a lot. I can’t imagine what you must be thinking and feeling right now, but we really need to get out of here.”

I’m officially overloaded with information. All I can do is follow Allison out of the dorm toward the campus bus stop.

* * *

Sweaty, dancing bodies fill the club, and it’s so loud the building is vibrating. It’s also about ten degrees too warm to be comfortable, but that comes with the crowd.

Allison pulls me closer and says into my ear, “Wait here. I’m going to find Theo, then we can go somewhere quiet and talk, okay?”

I don’t know what else to do but nod. In the time I take to blink, she’s gone, weaving through the dancing bodies faster than my gaze can follow.

I wait a few minutes, then make my way through the crowd to the bar and order a ginger ale. It likely won’t settle the unease in my stomach, but it doesn’t hurt to try.

When Allison isn’t back by the time I finish my drink, I scan the crowd, squinting at the darkness and flashing lights. I lean back over the bar, catching the bartender’s attention. “Where can I find Theo?” I shout over the music.

She points in the direction Allison went before returning to the patrons waiting for drinks. I can barely make out a hallway across the room, but I make my way toward it, squeezing through the crowd as I hold my breath against the heavy smell of liquor and body odor mixed with cologne and perfume. I try not to shove anyone; it’s difficult with all the flailing arms and grinding hips everywhere. The front of the hall is congested with people waiting to use the bathrooms, but I break through it and find the rest of the hall empty. The fluorescent lights flicker and there’s a door at the end of the hall marked EMERGENCY EXIT. There are a few doors before it, and I start toward the first one.

Before I can reach for the handle, an arm wraps around my waist and hauls me toward the other side of the hall. It happens too fast for me to react until I’m in another room, pressed against the closed door.

I try to scream, but a firm hand covers my mouth and muffles the sound. My pulse surges, and when the single lightbulb in the middle of the small room flicks on, I recognize my captor immediately, and annoyance ripples through me. I try to shove him away, but he pushes back, grabbing my wrists in his other hand and pinning them against the door above my head with ease.

There’s a moment when his eyes narrow that tells me he’s noticed I’m not wearing the bracelet.

My chest heaves as I fight with every ounce of strength I have to break free from his grasp. I make a sound faintly resembling a growl against his palm when he doesn’t budge a damn inch. Those dark blue eyes flash with amusement as Tristan finally moves his hand away from my mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I seethe, quickly taking in what appears to be a storage room behind him. It’s a dark, windowless space that clearly isn’t meant to be one people spend much time in. It’s tidy enough, but the air is stale. Three out of four walls are lined with metal shelves that are filled with boxes and bottles of liquor. The fourth wall has the only way out of here—the one I’m currently trapped against.

“I could ask you the same question,” Tristan says, and his proximity paired with his scent—an inviting combination of sandalwood and citrus—makes it difficult to think clearly. And the curve of his lips makes me think he fucking knows it.

The music from the club is much quieter in here, but the bass still vibrates the shelves of liquor enough they clink together. If I could just break free of Tristan’s grasp, I could grab one of them and smash it against his head. That’s if I could move fast enough, which the pit in my stomach says is unlikely.

I try to pull my wrists free again and fail. “Did you follow me?” I ask as my eyes travel across his face and drop to his chest, where a landscape of hard muscle pulls at his black T-shirt. It hits me then that if Tristan followedme, he followed Allison and knows where she is. I should’ve thought of that sooner, but I’m struggling to keep my head on straight as it is.

“An interesting idea, but no. I was informed that the fae I’m looking for is here.”

“That’s weird,” I mutter. “I don’t remember calling you.” I see no point in telling him my phone is gone. Even if it’s at his hotel, I don’t expect to get it back, and I’m sure as hell not going there to get it.

A hint of a smile plays on Tristan’s lips, and he finally releases my wrists. “The man who owns this club contacted me,” he says.

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