Page 15 of Taken By the Fae

ChapterFive

There are jackhammers in my head, chipping away at my temples. I blink several times before I realize I’m squinting at the familiar ceiling above my bed. I’m back in my dorm and I’m alone.How the hell did I get here?

Visions of yesterday fill my head. The club, trying to find Allison’s cousin, Tristan showing up… being fae food. Nausea rolls through me, and I sit up in a flash, wincing at the lingering dizziness. What I wouldn’t give to forget that whole scenario. I shudder at the memory that refuses to dissipate and struggle to shove it away.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I use the nightstand to stay upright. I’m surprised to find my phone sitting on top, and I snatch it up, immediately calling Allison. My stomach sinks as it goes straight to voicemail. Next, my finger hovers over Oliver’s number. If he doesn’t know about Allison, calling him about her being missing might not be the best course of action. Unless… What if Oliver is fae too? If Allison kept it from me, surely Oliver could too. The pressure building behind my eyes makes me squeeze them shut for a minute. I can’t think about this right now. One impossible problem at a time.

I blow out a harsh breath, because fucking hell, I have approximately zero other options here. Walking across the room, I grab yesterday’s shorts out of my hamper, shoving my hand into the pocket and pulling out the business card. I grit my teeth as I flip the card over and dial the number on the back. My pulse ticks faster with each ring, and I pace the small space between my bed and desk.

“Tristan Westbrook.” His voice is clipped, professional.

“You lied,” I say.

His response is a brief chuckle and then: “We both know that isn’t true.”

“You’re telling me Allison isn’t with you?”

“I’m telling you I didn’t lie.” The amusement in his voice has me balling my free hand into a fist and hitting it against my thigh so I don’t scream through the phone. Having him in my ear like this does weird things to my stomach, and I hate that I don’t hate it.

“You lost our deal, Tristan.”

“Hmm,” he hums.

“What?”

“I enjoy when you say my name, even when your voice is dripping with venom.”

I ignore that, mainly because I have no clue how to respond to it. “I found her before you did.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not playing this game with you,” I shoot back.

“No?” he challenges, his voice annoyingly arrogant. “What exactlyareyou going to do then, Aurora?”

I bite back a string of expletives, my face burning as I grip the phone so tightly my fingers spasm and I nearly drop it. “You sent me to find her to prove you could trust me. What about my trust in you?” I’m not sure this is the best angle to play, but I’m out of ideas.

Tristan chuckles. “As much as I’d like to continue this conversation, I’m walking into a meeting, so we’ll have to put a pin in it for now. Oh, and you’re welcome for returning your phone. Max brought it to me yesterday—figured you’d want it back.”

“Wait—”

“Always a pleasure, Aurora.”

The line disconnects before I can respond, and I throw my phone onto the bed, my entire body flushing with heat as I stomp toward the door.

* * *

I’m on my way to the Westbrook Hotel before I can talk myself out of it.

I charge up the marble stairs that lead to the building and fly through the open door. My footsteps echo on the ornate lobby floor as I approach the reception desk, where I slam my fist against the dark wood counter.

“I need to see Tristan,” I demand.

The young blond receptionist offers a polite smile. “My apologies, Mr. Westbrook isn’t in his office at the moment. Would you like to wait?”

“No,” I snap. “I need to see him now.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not possible.”

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