Page 9 of Riot of Autumn

The bird makes another noise, almost like it’s cooing. I drop my shirt and look over at it with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you just catcall me? Or would it be a bird call? That’s pretty bold and a little inappropriate.”

“I thought you liked all sorts of inappropriate things.” A man’s voice has me snapping my head around to the doors of the shed.

Mother fucker.

Colton Zima is standing in the entryway, grinning at me like we’re buddies or something. The crow gets pissed, its wings flapping as it screeches. For whatever reason, I don’t want it to leave, so I try to get Colton’s attention back on me.

“You can leave. ’Kay, thanks.”

Colton makes my skin crawl and gets my hackles up. He’s tall, but at least a few inches shorter than Ezra. His skin is pale and his hair a light brown that is constantly flopping in his face. Hair tosses should be reserved for shampoo commercials and Lizzo. Not prissy Fae fucks who think the world should kiss their feet. Some people consider him handsome, but I’m notsome people. I think he looks punchable.

He’s got the innocent and harmless look down pat, but I know better. He nearly choked the life out of me with a simple touch once. I don’t want to be anywhere near him.

“But I just got here.”

Colton strolls into my studio like I rolled out a red carpet. I fight the instinct to take a step back. I’d rather get a cavity search than be alone with him, but I don’t want him to know that.

The crow caws, and I roll my eyes at him in commiseration. I don’t want the idiot here anymore than the bird does, apparently. Except the bird can fly away. If Colton decides to hurt me again, I’m screwed.

“Aren’t you just so…creative.” Colton smirks down at my paintings.

I cross my arms, my paintbrush still in my hand. I plaster on my tough face, clenching my teeth, as I do my best to let his words roll right off me. I don’t share my art with many people. If no one sees it, then they can’t judge you. It doesn’t matter if I value Colton’s opinion as much as a used tissue on a nightstand. It still stings and reaffirms that my art is shit. Rhys begged me for some of my paintings when he moved into his place. The sneaky bastard got me drunk and pleaded. I caved in a moment of weakness. No one else has any of them, though. The rest are here, propped against the walls, taking up space, and collecting dust.

“I see why you hide them all here.” Colton wrinkles his nose.

I’m gripping the paintbrush in my hand so hard I hear the thing creek. God, I want to start something with him so badly, but I am outranked in this situation. I don’t know exactly what Colton’s powers are, but I’ve seen enough to be worried he could badly hurt me. As far as we can tell, none of these Fae assholes will kill us because they want us to form the Axis for whatever fucked-up reason. But there are a lot of levels of pain before death comes, and I’m not interested in visiting any of them.

“Why are you here? I’m not really in the mood for company.”

“I want to get to know you better, Ruby. I think we could be great friends.” He trails a finger over a painting, snagging off some paint with his nail as he does.

“Sorry, I phrased that wrong. I’m not in the mood foryourcompany. Go away.” I turn back to my canvas as though I don’t give two shits about him. Big mistake.

Why do I let my mouth rule me? I fucking know better!

Colton moves so quickly I don’t have time to react before he’s behind me, his hand wrapped around my neck. He yanks my head back to his chest and looks down at me with an evil delight sparkling in his eyes. I’m so stunned I don’t immediately react. As soon as he opens his mouth, likely to spout some bullshit, I stomp down on his foot and try to stab him in the eye with my paintbrush.

I fail at both.

My heart hammers, and fear tries to take over my body and shut me down. I hold tight to my misplaced courage, but it’s fading fast. He won’t kill me, right? Fuck. Maybe he will. The hand around my throat squeezes. I pull at his wrist to yank it away, but he’s too damn strong.

“Not so mouthy right now, are you? I have other ways of shutting that mouth up, but we can do that later.” His fingers flex against my throat, a grin stretching over his face. “And here I was, coming to thank you for bringing down the veil on Lughnasadh.”

Before I choke out a reply, Colton’s hold is gone. I stumble to the ground, my knees scraping against the cement floor as I gasp for breath.

“Fucking. Piece. Of. Shit.”

I hear Ezra before I see him. Where did he come from? I gulp in oxygen, my shaking hand hovering over my bruised throat.

Colton and Ezra are near the door, locked in a fight. Colton’s back is on the ground, and he’s fending off the rage of Ezra’s fists. The fury radiating off Ezra is stunning, and I can’t tear my eyes away while he beats the shit out of the Fae.

He’s also buck naked.

What in the ever-loving Jack Skellington is going on? This is the second time in a week that I’ve seen Ezra’s naked body. Granted, all I’m catching right now is his incredibly sculpted ass and the unbelievable ripple of muscle in his back and shoulders as he pummels Colton. But where the hell are his clothes? Was he wandering around the woods naked? Or did he consciously take his clothes off to fight?

I’m contemplating if I should try to stop Ezra before he kills Colton when he freezes. He cocks his fist back like he’s ready to deliver the blow. Only he doesn’t. What’s worse, Colton flips Ezra over and starts laying into him. Punches land on Ezra’s face, his stomach, his sides, the sound making me sick.

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