“Okay,” he said slowly.
“She told Brighton it was no longer safe for her and then left. When Brighton went to look for her about five minutes later, Merle was just gone. She checked several of the surrounding blocks and there was no sign of her.”
“Is it possible she hailed—”
“It’s possible, but not likely. Anyway, when Brighton came back inside, she started looking at all the stuff—including the journal—and that’s when she called me. I skimmed through it then brought it home. I’ve been reading the stuff for hours, and Ren . . . I think it’s real.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Ivy, there aren’t fae who don’t feed off humans.”
“According to that book, there are.”
His brows knitted together. “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but Merle struggles—”
“Yes, she struggles, but this stuff has been chronicled for decades, Ren, before she was caught by the fae.” I scooted onto my knees and reached around him, taking the book from his hands. “Trust me, I didn’t believe it at first—couldn’t believe it, but look at this.” I opened the book to an entry made in the seventies and turned it over. “Read this and pay attention to the date.”
His gaze held mine for a few beats and then he looked down at the book. I knew which part he was reading. It was a joint mission between the Order and the fae, where they helped locate several teenage humans who’d been kidnapped by other fae. I remembered the good fae’s names—Handoc, Alena, and Phineas. Of course, the last name made me think of Phineas and Ferb. Ha.
Ren’s mouth opened and snapped shut. He gave a little shake of his head. “I . . .”
Smirking, I reached over and flipped the pages to the list of names. “Take a look at this. List of Order members who apparently co-hunted with fae.”
He scanned the page. “I . . .”
“And there’s more. Seriously. You could spend all night reading this. There’s no way these are all some wild delusions that spanned decades.”
I let Ren read for a few minutes. He stopped every so often, as if he was reading things more than once. When he finally looked up at me, his expression was adorably confounded.
“Most of the Order members from that time have retired and moved out of the city or didn’t make it to retirement age,” I said. “But there is one who is still kicking and is accessible. Jerome.”
Ren’s brows flew up.
“But there’s something else.” I pushed off the bed and stood. “Before Merle left, she told Brighton to contact you. That you would know what to do.”
“What?” His response was immediate.
“That’s what she was told.” I folded my arms. “To contact you.”
He shook his head as he looked down at the book. “I have no idea what to say.”
“So you didn’t know about this? That there could be fae that were . . . good?”
“I have honestly never heard of this, and as a member of the Elite, we know everything. That’s why this is impossible.”
“You know nothing is impossible,” I said, repeating what Brighton had said earlier. “If it’s true, the Order and the Elite hide it well, practically erasing all evidence, and those who are still alive obviously don’t speak of it.”
He turned back to the journal. “This . . . I honestly don’t know what to think or believe, but I’m telling you for real, I have no idea why Merle would tell her daughter to come to me. No idea whatsoever, because I’ve never heard of this before.”
Staring at him, I knew, just knew, that he was telling me the truth. Unlike me, who was lying.
“If this is true . . .” His gaze flicked up to mine again. “Then we need to find one of these good-natured, non-human-eating fae, and we need to do it quickly.”
“Yeah.” I watched him skim the pages. “You make that sound like it’s something easy.”
“Hell.” He laughed dryly. “I think we’ve learned nothing is easy.”
“So true,” I murmured.
I tugged my socks off and stretched out, dipping my feet under the covers while Ren was nose-deep in the journals. I kept quiet, knowing his head had to be spinning much like mine had been when I first read them. Hell, my head was still whirling around.
Surprisingly, I fell asleep while he read, stirring awake sometime after he’d climbed under the covers. Something about his warm, hard body must’ve reached deep into the recesses of slumber, because I was wide awake. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was curled against his side and he was on his back. He’d left the nightstand lamp on, and as my gaze traveled over the surface, I saw one of the journals lying on the edge of the bed. He’d fallen asleep reading, and for some reason I found that incredibly adorable.
And sexy.