Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)

And I did.

It was strange. One minute I was outside, skin chilled from the cold air, and the next I was in that room. There were different people in here now. The woman was gone, and I wondered what had happened to her. Then I was sitting next to an older man I didn’t know. He had silver hair at his temples, and then after a few whispered words, I was . . . feeding, and then I was upstairs, slipping into a deep sleep.

I was shaken awake, a demanding hand biting into my shoulder. I woke to a dark room and a pale, silvery face.

Faye.

I leaned away from her, rolling onto my side. My thoughts were full of cobwebs, and I couldn’t quite recall the last several hours. All I knew was that I wasn’t supposed to be awake yet. I needed more time. My eyelids started to drift shut.

“You need to wake up,” she said, grabbing my arm and squeezing hard.

Confused, I resisted when she tugged on me. “I . . .”

“There’s no time to explain. You must get up now,” Faye said. “It’s your only chance if you want to escape.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight


“W-what?” I whispered.

Faye leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. Soft light flooded the room. “You must get up, Ivy. The prince is not here and this will be your only chance.”

Her words tumbled through my brain like tumbleweeds rolling down a vacant street. I was slow to make sense of them, but I didn’t close my eyes again. I pushed myself up into a sitting position. Nausea hit me, clearing enough of the cobwebs for me to realize that was different from when I woke normally after . . . after feeding.

Feeding.

My gaze lifted to Faye’s. “I fed again.”

Frustration pinched her features as she reached toward me, unlocking the band around my neck. She tossed it onto the bed. “I know. And if you keep feeding, you’re going to get addicted. You probably already are.”

“Addicted?” I repeated dumbly. That was the first I’d ever heard of that. “What do you—?”

“Ivy.” She clutched my shoulders and shook me until my head snapped back. “You need to focus. We have to go now. Do you understand me? This will be your only chance before your time is up and the prince will be in this bed, creating a child that will open all the gates to the Otherworld.”

Creating a baby . . .

Holy shit. I tossed my hair back from my face as the remaining tendrils of sleep cleared and the fogginess left my thoughts. “The prince isn’t here?”

“No.” She pushed off the bed and stood. “He left about thirty minutes ago, taking three of the ancients with him. It was a planned trip, but we don’t have a lot of time. There’s only a small window of opportunity.”

Pushing off the bed, I moaned as a wave of dizziness hit me. I fought through it, straightening. “Sorry,” I gasped out. “I’m not feeling too well.”

“Of course not. You have to sleep off the more unpleasant effects until you get used to them.” She walked over to the door, pressing the side of her face against the wood. “Fae don’t necessarily experience the adverse reactions, and only the younglings, when they first start feeding, experience the euphoria and following sleepiness, but for halflings . . . it can be different. But that’s not important right now.”

I raised a brow as I tucked the bushy mass of hair behind my ears. I had a feeling what she was saying was going to be important later, but right now, it wasn’t a priority. Later, I was going to have so many questions for her. “So you’re going to help me escape?”

She nodded. “And before you ask why, all you need to know right now is that the Order is not the only ones who want to prevent the gates from opening.”

I stared at her carefully. Trusting her was risky, but then again, why would this be a trap? And if it was, could the consequences be any worse than what I was already facing?

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

“I couldn’t get a thorn stake.” She reached around to the back of her jeans and pulled out an iron dagger. She pressed the handle into my hand. “But this will do.”

My fingers curled around the handle of the weapon I was oh so familiar with. It felt like ages since I had held one, and I welcomed the weight in my hand. “It will do,” I said as she reached for the door. I thought about something. “Wait.”

She looked at me.

Grabbing a handful of the dress, I lifted the skirt part and used the dagger to cut a slit halfway up my leg to allow for more movement. “Ready,” I said.

Faye grabbed the doorknob but paused. “I won’t kill any of them,” she warned me. “I will incapacitate, but I will not kill.”

I thought about that for a second. “Okay. I’m probably going to kill them, though.”