Echo (Bound to the Fae Book 2) Page 3

  “What the hell?” She tries to push herself upright, squirming, and I bring a palm down on her ass, just enough to sting and wake her up some more.

  “We’ve got shit to do, little fae, so moping around is going to have to wait.” I walk into the bathroom and put her down so I can turn on the shower.

  She glares at me while I simply smirk. I’ll gladly take any anger she throws my way just to see that spark come back to her, even just a flicker. This girl has too much fire in her; it would be a tragedy to see that light snuffed out. So if that means I need to take the brunt of her lashing out, so be it.

  “I’m not moping, I’m conserving energy,” she argues.

  Rolling my eyes, I motion for her to strip. “Don’t get all modest on me now.”

  “You trying to say I stink?” She gasps in mock indignation, a tiny bit of teasing bleeding into her tone.

  I shrug a single shoulder. “You said it, not me. But if we’re going to be spending the day together, I’d like to enjoy the company.”

  Cambria whips her shirt at my face and I pull it away with a grin. She’s standing there flipping me off, fighting a small smile of her own. “You’re kind of a dick.” Stepping out of her underwear, she gets into the shower, yelping when she feels how cold it is, because she’s right; I can be a dick sometimes.

  “I thought you liked dicks?” I argue, leaning against the counter.

  She scoffs, turning up the heat until steam clouds the room. “You trying to pick a fight? After some make up sex?”

  “Depends. Is it working?” I head into her bedroom long enough to grab a change of clothes.

  She exhales a humored breath. “Yet to be decided.”

  When she finishes up her shower, I’m there passing her a towel. Ten minutes later, I get her into the kitchen where Dorian’s just finishing putting breakfast on the table, eyes widening when he sees Cambria finally joining us and hurrying to grab another plate.

  No one comments on it or makes things weird, not even Lucien when he emerges. The three of us make idle small talk to keep the room from falling into awkward silence, and I see Luce hesitate as he glances at the clock on the wall.

  I narrow my eyes at him in warning, because so help me god if he just dismisses her and makes her feel like second fiddle, I will punch him in the kidney. On second thought, that might legitimately get me killed, but I’ll put gum on his chair or something.

  “See you tonight,” she offers, sensing the rising tension and finishing up her breakfast without meeting his gaze

  “Maybe I should switch and take today off instead,” he murmurs, speaking more to himself than the rest of the room.

  Cambria rolls her eyes. “I’m not made of glass, Lucien. I’m perfectly capable of existing without you hovering. Go to work. Make somebody their millions, or whatever it is you do on a Thursday. Trust me, I’m okay.” She heads to the kitchen to wash her dishes, and the three of us share a nervous look.

  No woman actually means it when they say they’re okay.

  Lucien grinds his teeth before sighing, heading over to the kitchen and wrapping his arms around her. He leans in to kiss her cheek, so much more free with affection than I ever would have imagined the man capable.

  “Come by the office for lunch?” he asks hopefully.

  Of all of us, he’s seen her the least since the Rickon development and her starting to fall into a depression was eating away at him, no idea how to help. This of course just meant he spent that much more time at work trying to get ahead of stuff so he could be free when we needed to cross back over, which just exacerbated the problem.

  She leans back into him, closing her eyes briefly. “Can’t; I have plans. Have your people call my people and we’ll set something up.”

  He chuckles, kissing her once more before pulling away to go grab his keys. “What sort of plans?”

  Her eyes twinkle in amusement, a bit more of herself starting to resurface under his attention. “Terrible ones, really. I don’t want to spoil anything, but there may or may not be an axe involved.”

  He smiles at her warmly. “Be safe.”

  She snorts. “Never.”

  ***

  Three hours later, we’re thirty miles outside of town, traipsing around in the wilderness. I hold the branch back for them to pass by me, letting Cambria resume the lead. Honestly, without her, I doubt we’d ever find another fairy ring. It was only by following her that we stumbled across one in the first place, and I doubt we’d get that lucky twice; if you can even call getting caught up with the fae, luck.

  She bends down and runs her fingers through the grass, practically humming her pleasure. Nearly an hour later she abruptly stops, changes course, and starts sprinting. Cursing, Dorian and I follow, nearly crashing into her back when we clear a thicket of overgrown foliage.

  “That doesn’t look healthy” Dorian starts to get a closer look, but Cambria grabs his wrist to stop him, looking nervous.

  Where there’s usually a charred ring scattered with forget-me-nots and mushrooms, this is just...desolate. The scorched ring is at least ten times wider and the flowers are wilted. There’s a green sort of moss inside instead of grass, and it sets off at least a dozen different red flags.

  “It’s not,” she confirms, voice strong and sure. “This one’s rotted from lack of use.”

  I turn to her in confusion. “That’s a thing?”

  She nods, already turning to leave. “Like anything, it can be forgotten,” she whispers, thoughts of the shadow court no doubt on her mind. “Nature reclaims everything eventually; we’ll just need to find a new one.”

  Dejected and disappointed, we start heading back to the car. At this rate, we’re going to have to risk using our usual ring to cross and hope for the best. In our case, the best is just not getting killed, and I’d like the bar to be a little higher than that.

  “What would happen if we used it?” Dorian asks as we pick our way out of the dense underbrush.

  She grimaces. “It’ll spit you out somewhere random. Trust me, I made that mistake once, and it’s not a smooth transition. It’s actually how I found this city in the first place, but it’s painful to cross through a defective portal. Ten out of ten would not recommend.”

  I reach out and steal her hand, glad she’s beginning to perk up. There’s still a somber air clinging to her, but she’s trying. And really, isn’t that all I can ask for? I don’t expect her to be skipping around while people are hunting her, but I’m a selfish bastard; I want the woman I love to be happy as much as possible. It helps ease my guilt that we unintentionally bound ourselves to her.

  We start driving home, Cambria deflating a bit more the longer we sit in silence. I know we need to find another way to cross over, but taking care of each other is just as important. We can fight our way to the ring if we have to one more time, but the farther we let her fall, the harder it will be to get her back up.

  I head towards the rougher side of town, parking and locking the car as the other two climb out in confusion. “What are we doing here?” Dorian eyes The Landing sign suspiciously, that wariness bleeding into his tone.

  From out here, you would assume it’s just another dive bar, but it’s so much more. And right now, I think it’s exactly where we need to be. Knowing how Cambria likes to slip into personas and don roles to forget herself, even if just for a little while, I rummage around in the trunk until I find a flannel button up, helping her into it. She rolls up the sleeves and leaves the top few buttons undone, furrowing her brow, but not questioning me yet.

  “So, Miss Lark, care to make a wager?”

  Her silver eyes light up, and I refuse to feel guilty about exploiting her nature. I’ve watched her for weeks, and it’s clear that she thrives on chaos; she just lost her hold as its master. Someone needs to help her find the reins again, to guide her into taking back that control instead of being consumed and overwhelmed by it. So I’ll be an asshole if I have to, because taking it easy hasn’t done anyone any
favors. I’ll play on her weaknesses if it means reminding her that she’s a badass that has survived so much and it will take more than the latest revelations to break her.

  She licks her lips. “Terms?”

  I scratch the dark scruff on my jaw. “Loser has to do a strip tease for the other.”

  She bursts out laughing. “But you have to do it in the living room after dinner for everyone. What’s the challenge?”

  I tsk my tongue, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “If you’re that sure I’ll lose, does it matter? Wouldn’t you like a nice surprise for once?” She shivers against me and I pull back grinning, waiting for her answer.

  She narrows her eyes, sizing me up, before extending her hand. “You, Atlas Donovan, have got yourself a deal.”

  Now that I know to look for it, I catch the way her eyes flash as the agreement settles into place, binding her to it. Thank fuck she has to accept the terms for it to take hold, but if she’s not hypervigilant of the wording, she could end up royally screwed over.

  We head inside and she instantly bursts out a thrilled whoop, looking like the girl I first met that robbed my ass. Between the combination of the thrill she gets from taking the risk to bind herself to a bet and the promise of violence, her color has completely returned. I’m ashamed I didn’t think of it sooner.

  She skips to the bar, getting drinks for all of us while Dorian and I handle signing up for a single lane to share. The target is at the far end, each row separated by thick, chained walls like a cage, as well as a solid one behind us.

  I have to do a double take as Cambria carefully sets all of our drinks on the table, along with a plate. “Where did you even get pie?”

  She blinks up at me, stealing a quick bite before coming to join us. “Raquel over at the bar understands the importance of the finer things in life. Weapons, booze, and sweets. Besides; who doesn’t like pie?”

  “I’m not a huge fan, honestly.”

  You’d think I’d told her the Easter Bunny wasn’t real.

  “It’s like I don’t even know you. Next you’re going to tell me you don’t appreciate classic cars.” She steals another bite and a swig of her drink as I roll my eyes and we join Dorian.

  A burly man hands him the axe and directs us to a lane, going over the rules. “We don’t fuck around here; one strike is all you get before you’re kicked out.”

  Dorian lines himself up, triple checking no one is behind him in case he loses his grip, and throws it with all of his might. It sinks nearly dead center and I do a double take, sharing a surprised look with Cambria.

  “Damn, D, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  He blushes, but shrugs, trying to play it off. “Beginners luck.” I keep a closer eye on him after that, noting the ease with which he’s handling the axe, his solid footing, and have to wonder.

  After we each get our practice shots in, the real game begins as we keep track of points, pushing ourselves until even my arms are screaming. I take a minute to sit at the table and take a drink, recording a quick video for Lucien’s sake. It was a spur of the moment decision, but after her claims this morning, it’s too poetic not to. I send it before going back to the game and we all agree that when our arms feel like jello, it’s time to call it.

  We sit down and tally the points, Cambria knocking her chair over in her haste of jumping back to her feet. “Second place!” she shouts with enthusiasm, a heavy buzz going on.

  I glare at those two stupid points; I was so fucking close. And I never once assumed Dorian would put both of our asses to shame and be some kind of lumberjack savant.

  “Shit.”

  She picks up her chair and grins at me, waggling her eyebrows. “Make sure you shower when we get home; I hear rumor this crowd can get pretty handsy.”

  I snort, finishing off my water since I had to be the designated driver. “You want to head home or walk around for a bit?”

  She thinks about it and the corner of her mouth twists into a wry smile. “Might as well enjoy my freedom while I still can. After this concealment hocus pocus wears off, I’m pretty much stuck on house arrest.”

  Dorian leans forward, stealing a lock of her silken hair and rubbing it between his fingers, always obsessed with touching it. “What about glamouring yourself like you did the first day at Lucien’s office?”

  She arches into his touch, her smile turning into a soft, genuine one. “It just works with what’s already there; it doesn’t turn me into a completely different person. I can change my hair and eye color as well as how old I appear, but it leaves an air of magic over me like a second skin. There are far too many fae that have the ability to see that; it’s not rare.”

  He scrunches up his face and pauses. “Then why did you actually dye your hair blonde for our, um, escapades?” he stutters out, still embarrassed over the leaked sex tape.

  She leans forward, kissing him sweetly before sitting back down. “Because I promised you guys I wouldn’t use my abilities to influence you. I’ve pretended for most of my life; I want what’s between the four of us to be genuine.”

  Stealing her hand as we leave, I kiss the back of it. “You’re a good person, Cambria.”

  She balks at the idea, gaping at me in horror. “You take that back! Or I’m going to have to go fuck some shit up before you get the wrong idea and start expecting things from me.”

  I flick her arm as she chuckles, the three of us falling into step beside each other on the sidewalk. People are still openly gawking at us with interest, the sex tape released not quite a week ago. Between her sleeping with Dorian, kissing me, and how close she was to Luce, the rumors have been flying. It doesn’t matter that we got it pulled due to the bullshit witness protection excuse; once it’s let loose on the internet, it’s out there forever.

  “So I’m going to ask something, but I don’t mean it in an asshole way. I’m just honestly curious.”

  She gives me a skeptical look, but gestures for me to proceed. I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves and hoping I don’t undo an entire day of work making her feel better just to sate my curiosity.

  “All of the comments the fae make, which are utter bullshit I’d like to note, always get to you. But this,” I gesture to the humans whispering their snide remarks without being subtle. “It’s like it doesn’t even faze you. What’s the difference?”

  She looks around like she hadn’t even noticed they were there before shrugging. “They have no idea who I am, so they don’t hate me on a personal level. They’re just brought up thinking you’re only capable of loving one person, so anything else must be wrong. Yet some people go around sleeping with a different person every night of the week and it’s fine so long as they don’t actually like more than one of them? It’s dumb.”

  Grabbing Dorian’s hand with her free one, she makes it abundantly clear she’s with both of us just to prove a point. “We’re all on the same page, and that’s all that matters. I’m not in a relationship with them, so they don’t get to weigh in on what I do or don’t do. And if you noticed, the fae never gave me a hard time about who I slept with. They just hate me for breathing, despise when I draw attention to myself and remind them I exist. It makes it personal and hurts a hell of a lot more than just some random humans that are jealous of all the dick I’m getting.”

  Dorian stops walking and since we’re both holding her hands, it sets off a chain reaction of arm jerks. “Why do you have to keep being more amazing than the day before? How am I supposed to compete with that?”

  She preens, soaking up the praise as he looks at her like she’s the only thing in this life worth seeing. “I see what you did there, and I wholeheartedly approve,” she teases, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before we resume walking.

  I slip my phone out of my pocket to check Lucien’s response, snickering the more I read.

  You actually gave her an axe?

  I thought she was joking.

  Why would you give her a weapon? She can set water on fire an
d it’s worse when she’s bored.

  How many people did she maim? Do I need to make another call to the lawyer?

  Shit. You’re not answering. Did she get hurt? Are you at the hospital?

  WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING YOUR PHONE!?

  I pass it over to the others who promptly pull theirs out and start scrolling through their messages because we all switched them to silent so as not to distract an axe thrower.

  “To reply or not to reply, that is the question,” Dorian dramatically states, thumb hovering above the keyboard. “I’m going with not.” He tucks it back in his pocket and I grin.

  He’s been handling Lucien’s moods far longer than I have and he’s well aware he needs a slap of reality. He’s falling back into old habits, and while I know his work is important and it’s hard enough taking all of the time off we need to cross over, he forgets that life passes him by while he’s locked in that office. Even if he has to work, he could have at least let her come to help out around the place so that he could spend time with her.

  Cambria waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “He’s going to come home all sorts of worked up.” She turns to me and winks. “Good thing we’ve already arranged for entertainment.” There’s an ear splitting screech that makes us all promptly release each other in favor of covering our ears, cringing. “What in the ever-loving-fuck was that?”

  I scan the street, not seeing anything out of place, when it happens again.

  Dorian points at the building just ahead of us on the right. “Must be in the middle of some kid’s lesson.”

  Shuddering, I rub my temple. “They should pay that poor teacher double to be subjected to that horror daily.”

  Cambria looks like she might actually throw up when it happens again. “Nope, not standing for this travesty.” She marches ahead purposefully, right inside the studio door without knocking.

  We follow behind, the horrendous screeching even more obnoxious now. It’s just one giant room, a piano off to the side out of the way, with various replacement parts and instruments hanging on the walls. A few chairs for parents are pushed off to the side and in the center, a pretty blonde I’d peg for being in her thirties is wincing. The little girl across from her can’t be more than ten and she’s sawing away at that violin like she wants to slice its neck clean off.