Aren doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure he’s even paying attention. He’s looking behind Paige more than at her, scanning the wedding guests, searching for Kyol and Lena, I presume. It’s a waste of effort. If Kyol was alone, he might come in here looking for me, but not with Lena, who I’m sure will probably freak out when she sees the tiny lights lining the garden’s walks.
“We were just going to tell your sister congratulations, then step outside for a while.”
Paige rolls her eyes. “Amy’s on the dance floor. Still. She’s been on my case to dance all night.” She focuses on Aren, who I just so brilliantly labeled only an acquaintance, not a love interest or even a friend. “Do you want to dance? It’ll spare you having to meet Bridezilla.”
He’ll have to take his hands out of his pockets to do that, and one touch between human and fae will send his edarratae into her. Paige won’t see the lightning, but she’ll feel it. She’ll assume the electric tingle is evidence of their chemistry, and since she isn’t anything close to a virgin, she wouldn’t hesitate long before finding a place where they could be alone.
“He’s germophobic,” I blurt out.
Paige raises an eyebrow and I wince. That’s what I told her when she and Kyol first met and he refused to shake her hand.
“Jesus, McKenzie. What do you do, raid OCD support groups or something?”
This is why people think I’m crazy.
“It’s just a coincidence,” I say lamely.
Beside me, Aren relaxes. It’s an odd thing for him to do in the midst of humans and tech. I glance at him, see his expression is just as unstressed as his posture, almost lazy even.
“He’s here,” he says.
My gut clenches when I follow his line of sight and see Kyol, dressed in a suit, holding Lena’s hand just inside the open glass doors leading out to the garden. I’m momentarily startled because they look good together. They look like a couple. I never thought that when he stood next to Jacia. Maybe that’s why I never suspected there was something between them. Only a fae as beautiful as Lena can be a match for him, not someone like me, someone who’s plain and human.
Stop it, McKenzie. He’s here for you.
Kyol has to be aware I’m standing beside Aren, but his eyes don’t leave the rebel. He’s wearing what I’ve always referred to as his soldier’s face. It’s hard as stone and impossible for most people to read. I can tell he’s uncomfortable, though, being so near to the ballroom’s tech. But he keeps his shoulders straight, his posture confident, almost aggressive. He’d walk through an electronics store without a hitch to his stride if I stood at the opposite end.
That thought brings a small smile to my lips. A familiar, peaceful warmth settles over me.
Something unspoken passes between Kyol and Aren before Kyol turns and leads Lena from the ballroom.
“Who’s the chick?” Paige asks. She’s staring at the departing fae, too.
“She’s just a girl. I need to talk to them. I’ll be back in a minute. I—” I almost said, “I promise,” but with the way my life’s been going lately, there’s no need to make commitments I might not be able to keep.
Paige sighs. “I still think you’re better off without him, McKenzie.”
For the first time, Aren seems to really notice Paige. He gives her one of his sexy, lopsided grins. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Paige raises her eyebrows, giving me a look that says she approves of him. Yeah, well, she doesn’t know a thing about him.
“We’ll be back.” Aren takes my arm and leads me through the crowd. By the time we step outside, his edarratae are spiraling up my arm.
Kyol’s not happy about that. He knows how it feels to touch me and how I feel when I’m touched by fae. He’s waiting with Lena at the edge of the lower terrace, a rare scowl breaking through his usually impenetrable expression.
Aren notices his reaction, too. He stops before we descend the stairs, leans down close to my ear, and whispers, “This could be an interesting evening.”
I manage not to shiver. “Don’t provoke him.” Aren would lose in a one-on-one match against the sword-master. I’m sure of it.
He responds with a chuckle.
My descent down the stone steps would be clumsy and awkward in these heels if Aren wasn’t keeping me steady. I manage to make it all the way down with something resembling grace. We wait for a pair of humans to pass before we walk toward Kyol and Lena. Aren stops me about ten paces away.
“Are you okay?” Aren asks Lena. She doesn’t look injured, but she doesn’t look good either. She’s not comfortable being around tech, even tech as simple as a string of lights. Of course, part of that discomfort might be because she’s wearing a dress. It’s a pretty dress, low-cut and . . . Wait a second.
I take a closer look at the familiar chiffon fabric, the soft, pale violet that falls over her slender frame, stopping just an inch above the ground.
I gape at Kyol. “You gave her my dress.”
As a hello, my statement lacks much, but it’s my dress and she’s Lena.
Kyol’s eyes shift to me, soften, and then turn to steel when he looks back at Aren.
Aren doesn’t hold back, though. He laughs out loud. “I’m going to miss you, my nalkin-shom.”
The night grows quiet as the music from the ballroom suddenly ends. Someone, a drunk cousin of the bride or groom most likely, takes over the microphone, calling for a toast. The humans in the gardens start to make their way inside. Only one couple lingers. They’re sitting on the fountain lost in deep kisses.
“Let’s do this,” Kyol says, unlocking a bracelet of silver from around Lena’s wrist.
Aren squeezes my arm. At first, I don’t think he’s going to let go. I contemplate trying to struggle free, but the couple at the fountain stands. I don’t want to draw their attention.
“Walk to him,” he says finally.
I keep an eye on Lena as we start toward each other. She does the same, her expression much more hate-filled than mine. She’s not wearing any shoes. Lucky. I wish I weren’t.
A woman giggles. I glance toward the fountain in time to see the couple run deeper into the garden instead of to the ballroom. They disappear around a high hedge, leaving me and the three fae alone.
“Go,” Aren says the moment they’re out of sight.
Lena opens a fissure and winks out of this world. Then, suddenly, Aren is back at my side, his arm around my waist.
“Jorreb,” Kyol growls out. His hand goes to his hip, where, if he were armed, his sword would be hanging.
“Relax, Taltrayn. If I was going to back out of our deal, I’d have my people take her at the gate. We agreed on a midnight exchange. It’s not yet midnight, and McKenzie has a wedding to attend.”
Technically, it’s a reception and, technically, Aren has no freaking idea what time it is. The days and nights are longer in the Realm than they are here, and he’s certainly not wearing a watch. It could be after twelve now.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“I’m being selfish.”
He’s brave as hell, turning his back on Kyol like this. I peer over my shoulder as Aren leads me toward the mansion. Kyol is right behind us, a predator one second away from springing on his prey.