Beyond impatient, I followed him out of headquarters and onto the sidewalk. "What's going on, Ren?"
He reached down between us, wrapping his hand around mine as we started down Phillip, toward Royal. My step stumbled, and he squeezed my hand gently. I looked up at him and he lifted a brow. "Holding hands is something that people do when they like one another."
"I didn't know we were at the stage where we hold hands," I replied, trying to get my bearings as Ren led me around a group of tourists. The panic was still clawing its way through me, dragging me down as my past threatened to meet my present.
It took everything in me but I managed to shove all of that back, locking it up, and forced myself to forget what Miles had alluded to. I had to do that. It was the only way I could focus on the now.
"I'm pretty sure that everything we did yesterday is a good indication that we like one another, Ivy."
I pursed my lips. "I don't think liking one another is necessary for all of that."
"It is for me." He passed me a quick, meaningful look. "You feel me on that, right?"
Oddly flustered by that statement, I quickly looked away. "Why are we even talking about this right now?"
"Because you seemed so shocked by the act of holding hands, it distracted me, and I needed to make sure you and I are on the same page."
"Ren . . ."
Squeezing my hand again, we turned onto Royal. "David wants to take down Flux Saturday. He's talking to Miles, and they're going to round up a group of members they trust. But we're going to have to get past Wednesday night first. He will have the gates guarded, but not just one. Both of them. He doesn't believe that one isn't working, and he's not willing to risk leaving one completely unguarded during the equinox."
I almost got down on my knees and kissed the street out of thanks, but then that would be entirely gross considering the kind of stuff that went down on these streets. "So he believes us?"
"I'm not entirely sure what he believes, but he does know about the Elite. He doesn't know anything about what we do, but since he knows the only way I could know about the Elite is because I'm a part of it, he's willing to listen to me."
"Well, that's just nice," I said snidely.
"Hey, at least he's freaking listening to us. Like us, he knows there's someone in the Order that is working with the fae. That's why he wanted you and Val out of the room. I don't think he suspects you, but . . ."
Cold air hit the back of my neck. "I think . . . I think he does."
"Wouldn't make a damn bit of sense if he did. You were shot by one of them. He can't ignore that."
I wasn't sure. Why else would he make me leave the room? A sick feeling of betrayal twisted up my insides.
"He does know about the ancients, but since they've never been active, he and Miles have kept them quiet. They apparently feared that the fae would be going for the gate, and David was already pulling in extras to cover them, but I don't think they realized until tonight the seriousness of what is happening. I don't even know why he is giving you so much shit about it."
Probably because I have a vagina, and that was just flat out bullshit. This whole thing was bullshit.
"Either way, he wants us at the gates." Tugging me to the side and out of the path of foot traffic, his gaze found mine. "Where did you hear about the other gate not working?"
My stomach roiled even further. This is where I had to lie. I hated it, but I couldn't tell him the truth, and I loathed that I was about to bring my friends into this. "I talked to Merle this morning. She said that the gate in the church no longer worked—that all the gates had been destroyed except the second one." As I spoke, I could feel anti-karma points stacking up. "I figured that if she's been right about everything else, she'd be right about this too."
"All the gates have been destroyed?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I guess that's not something the Elite knows then?"
"No. Never heard that in my life." He dropped my hand, thrusting his fingers through his now dry hair. "How does she know this?"
"I don't know," I said quietly. "But if it's true, then . . . what if the fae know that?"
He shook his head. "I hate to say this, but I don't know, Ivy. That doesn't make sense. Not at all."
How could I convince him without telling him about Tink? There was no way around it. "Did he tell you where the second gate is?"
Ren nodded. "We're standing right in front of it."
I jerked, looking around. "What?" My gaze fell to the gray, three-story building. Understanding sunk in. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Wasn't this one of the houses that TV show used on their horror show?" Ren asked.
I stared up at the famous haunted house on Royal Street, reputedly the most haunted house in New Orleans. A place that harbored a terrible, brutal history. What Merle had said came back to me. The second gate was located in a place where no humans or spirits could rest.
In other words, a haunted house, but ninety percent of New Orleans was rumored to be haunted. "Is this the…?"
Ren shook his head then placed two fingers under my chin, turning my gaze to the brick building beside the grandiose home. "That's where the gate is."
Chapter Eighteen
Monday night was dead. Not a single fae was roaming the streets of the Quarter or hanging out in the club in the warehouse district. Instead of that being a thing of relief, it brought forth a great sense of foreboding. Monday nights weren't hopping by any means, but not a single fae? Something was very wrong with that.
As our shift drew to a close, we ended up back in the Quarter, on Phillip Street, where Ren had stowed his bike. My head was in a thousand different places—the location of the second gate, the possible traitor, what would happen on Wednesday—when Ren asked, "Come home with me."
Standing on the corner of the street, under the faint flickering glow of the streetlamp, I frowned. "What?"
Ren smiled faintly. "Come home with me tonight, Ivy."
I shifted my feet, taking a step back. The request thrilled me . . . and frightened the holy hell out of me. With everything that happened today, I hadn't had much time to think about what Ren and I were doing, even with the panty-dropping hot kiss he unloaded on me at headquarters or the way he held my hand as we walked to the old brick home on Royal Street.
My heart kicked around in my chest as I stared at his shadowed face. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
"It's a great idea. Possibly the best idea I ever had."
Off in the distance, someone howled with laughter. "I don't think—"
"Stop thinking." Ren took my wrist, gently unfolding my arms. "You do that too much."
"I don't think you can possibly think too much," I reasoned as my gaze dipped to where he held my wrist between us. Truth was, I didn't want to go home yet. Since I had no idea what to do with Tink, my apartment above the lovely courtyard was a very lonely place to be.
Ren sighed as he smoothed his thumb along the inside of my wrist. "I'm not going to take you to my place and ravish you, Ivy."
My mind was full of images of him stripping my clothes off, holding me down and doing whatever he wanted to me, and parts of my body got really excited about that prospect.
"Unless you want me to, then I'm all for it," he continued, his tone light. "I'll do whatever you want, just . . . come home with me."
I lifted my gaze to his, and his stare was unflinching, open and honest. The laughter was drawing closer. "If you don't want that from me, why do you want me to come home with you?"
A look of confusion flashed across his face and then he gave me a half grin. "First off, Ivy, I do want that from you. Always. Hell, it's what I've been thinking about since the first time you took a swing at me."
"That's . . . kind of demented."