Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)

“No.”


There was a moment of silence. “I think I have a rather attractive form when I am small and tall. I also think that most women and a lot of men would be more than happy to see me naked.”

I closed my eyes.

“You should be happy,” he continued.

I grimaced.

“Because I’m quite attractive,” Tink added. “Just in case—”

“I get it, Tink.”

“Goody gum drops.” Another pause. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

I didn’t answer.

Tink nudged my leg with his hand, which felt weird because he was people-sized. “Are you and Ren still fighting? If so, there’s a chance you might want to see my junk.”

I pried one eye open. “I don’t want to see your junk again, Tink.”

“Huh,” he said.

Several seconds passed and then I said in a scratchy voice, “A whole bunch of people were killed last night. They were fed on until they died, and some of their bodies were hung from the ceiling.”

“Whoa,” Tink said. “That’s a buzzkill.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, sucking in a deep breath. “And Ren is missing.”

“What?” Tink shrieked, startling me. I sat up and he jumped—all six and a half feet of him—onto the coffee table. He crouched there, on the edge in a feat of anti-gravity. “What do you mean he’s missing?”

I broke it down for Tink, skipping the whole “telling Ren what I was” part and ending with, “I don’t know what to do.”

Tink hopped down and sat on the coffee table. “I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, who knows? Maybe he’s off licking his man wounds? Or maybe the prince has captured him. Both make sense. Ren’s his competition.”

My heart flopped over in my chest as I rose, unable to sit or be in the apartment any longer. My muscles ached from sleeping in a cramped position. “That’s not helping,” I said.

“Sorry?” He stood. “I’m really not good at saying sorry and sounding like I mean it, but I do mean it.”

I walked around the couch and stopped by the bedroom door. “I get it.”

Tink followed behind me. “Would now be a bad time to talk about getting that kitten you—”

Shutting the door behind me, I walked into the bathroom. I showered and changed in record time, gathering up my wet hair and securing it in a knot. I grabbed my weapons and walked back out.

Tink popped up from the couch. “You’re leaving already? It’s like nine in the morning.”

“I know.” I walked to my purse. “I just can’t sit in the house. I need to be out there.”

“Doing what?”

That was a good question and something I’d thought about while I showered. We had some intel at headquarters on possible locations of fae cells—homes where we had evidence fae lived. Places we kept an eye on, but hadn’t raided because we weren’t a hundred percent positive fae actually lived there. I was this close to knocking on their doors.

“You’re going to do something dumb, aren’t you?”

“No.” I picked up my bag and draped it over my shoulder. “I’m just going to go out.”

Tink leaned over the back of the couch. “I can go with you.”

I raised an eyebrow as I picked up my keys.

“Not like this. I haven’t gotten around to buying a shirt yet, but I can make myself small and you can put me in your purse,” he offered.

“I am not putting you in my purse.”

Tink folded his extremely well-muscled arms over an extremely well-defined chest. “It could work. I can help you look for Ren.”

I walked to the door. “Maybe next time.” I stopped, thinking of something I should’ve done a long time ago. “Order a new phone from Amazon for me, one that comes with an answering machine.”

Tink wrinkled his nose. “Why? I don’t use the house phone.”

I exhaled noisily through my nose. “I know, but I can call it and leave you messages. Like if I’m running late or if there’s a problem.”

“Oh.” His gaze roamed to the ceiling. “Good idea. I bet I can one-hour that shiz. Let me see.” He started toward the kitchen, and I couldn’t, God help me, couldn’t help but notice how low his jeans hung and that he really had a—oh God, no! I blinked tightly as Tink itched at his scalp. “I just realized I’ve never used the home phone to call you before. I could have kept tabs on you. How have I not thought of that?”

“Guess my luck with that just wore off,” I muttered. “Order it, please.”

I left before Tink could convince me to bring him with me, which wouldn’t be hard, because there was a part of me that kind of wanted to stash him in my purse. With the way things were going down, he was a good ace to have up my sleeve.

I caught an Uber into the Quarter and got dropped off on Decatur. I walked past Cafe Du Monde and crossed the street, entering the park.