When I open my eyes, I find Tristan leaning in the doorway with a faint grin, and my cheeks flare with heat.
“Long day?” he asks, pushing off the wall to walk into the room.
“Yes. Not that I expected anything less.”
He perches on the edge of the table a few feet away from me. “Did you learn anything?”
“Yes,” I repeat.
He nods. “My job is done.”
I laugh. “Your job? You didn’t do anything.”
“Are you disappointed you didn’t get to spend the day with me, Aurora?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh man, was I that obvious?” I shoot back.
He chuckles, tilting his head to the side.
“You’re being creepy,” I say. “Speaking of, why was Max at my place?”
His back stiffens. “I wasn’t aware that he had been. When was this?”
“While I was home for the weekend.”
His mouth is set in a tight line. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Good. I don’t want him coming around. Ever.” I put as much force behind my words as possible. “And speaking of that, what the hell was that dream invasion thing you pulled the other night?”
His lips pull up. “It gets a bit boring around here on the weekend.”
My jaw locks. For once, I consider my response before I open my mouth. “Don’t do it again,” I say, forcing my gaze to hold his.
“Did it bother you?”
It didn’t bother me as much as it should’ve, but I’m not about to tell him that. “It’s unnecessary. You want to talk to me, pick up the phone.”
“Are you asking me to call you?” The twinkle of amusement in his eyes makes my eyes narrow. “Aurora, you’re so forward.”
“Seriously?” I want to throw my pen at him. “Stay out of my dreams.” I decide not to tell him about what I experienced after he left my dream. I can’t see him reacting well to the idea of me seeing him like that. Vulnerable.
He inclines his face in acknowledgment and stands. “How was your trip home? You must be concerned about your brother.”
I try to keep the shock off my face. The last thing I expected was for him to ask about Adam. “Yeah,” I say. “He’s the strongest person I know, but no one should have to fight a battle like that.” Or like the one from your dream. I quickly push the thought away.
“If he’s anything like his sister, I have a feeling he’s good at putting up a strong front.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “He is.”
Tristan steps closer. “And the rest of your time away from the city? Was it enlightening?”
Shooting him a look, I say, “I couldn’t come out and ask my parents if they knew of any relatives that had freaky powers and never aged.”
He licks his lips. “That would’ve been amusing to watch.”
I struggle to hold back an eye roll. “The day we met, you said I wasn’t fae. So why do you care?”
“Consider it a mild interest.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ve not come across a human like you with such ties to my kind.”
“I’m not some thing for you to ogle or study. I refuse to allow this to affect my life anymore, so unless you’re going to give me some answers, don’t bring it up again.”
“I’m not sure what answers you’d like me to give you.”
I massage my temples with my fingers, squeezing my eyes shut for a brief moment. “Anything that would help me make sense of this.”
“Whatever fae ran in the Marshall line were alive before my time, Aurora. The extent of my knowledge ends with knowing that fae magic touches you and where it comes from.”
I sigh. “That’s it? You’re the leader of the fae. You should know more.”
His eyes glimmer with amusement. “My apologies. I didn’t expect I’d have an outspoken human to answer to when it came to the history of my kind in relation to her family.”
So much for answers.
“I can see you’re disappointed. For what it’s worth, I’ll look into it and see what information I can find that might put you at ease. Quite frankly, it might help my people feel more comfortable with your knowledge of them if they can hear about your connection from one of your fae relatives.”
My gaze lifts to meet his. “Really?” The optimism in my voice makes me cringe. I shouldn’t be asking him for anything, but there’s no one else I can ask.
He nods curtly. “You should get going. Not all my employees are human, and not all of them will be as tolerant as Skylar was today.”
I collect my things and stand, heading toward the door. I pause in front of Tristan. “Why do you all hate humans so much? Your kind are the ones who chose to live with us. I don’t care that you’re fae, Tristan. That doesn’t make you more or less of an ass—which you are—I’m saying that I don’t think it’s fair that you all look upon us as some lesser race because we aren’t like you. Evidently, your kind aren’t fans of diversity.” I remember what Allison told me—about the fae being jealous of the humans—I guess I thought there was more to it.
His gaze is unwavering as he says, “I don’t hate humans. I wouldn’t own a business that interacts so closely with them on a daily basis if I hated them.”
“I’m not talking about you, specifically. Not everything is about you. Shocking, I know.”
His lips twitch, but his eyes look tired. “You’re brave.”
“I’m sharing my opinion. If you think that’s brave—if you think I should be intimidated by you—you think too highly of yourself.” I lift my bag onto my shoulder and step around him. “Goodnight, Mr. Westbrook. I’ll see you next Monday.”
A few weeks pass, and the semester picks up, ensuring I have plenty to keep my mind busy. I’ve gone home each weekend since I found out Adam’s cancer came back. They moved him into a hospital room shortly after I left, which made me want to turn around and go back, but Mom and Dad insisted he was doing fine. During my last visit, I sat with him during treatment. It was hard on me, so I can’t imagine how Adam felt. He’s been so strong through all of this. He seems to be responding well, according to Dr. Collins. I’m not sure whether it was the strange way we met that threw me off with her, but when I was in the room with Adam, I kept feeling her eyes on me. It made the skin at the back of my neck tingle. I tried to ignore it the best I could; I knew she was there to help Adam, but the unease stuck around after she left.
Back on campus at the end of another week, I’m sitting in the uncomfortable plastic seat, rereading the chapter for today’s class.
Grant sets up the lecture for the professor and takes the seat next to me again, tossing me an easy smile. “Hey, how was your week?” He pulls out his textbook and clicks his pen against the desk.
I smile. If he only knew. “Busy,” I say. “Never a dull moment.”
“How’s your research paper going?”
I purse my lips. “Not bad. Want to read it over for me?” I’d managed to get a rough draft of it done on the train ride from Mapleville.
“Sure, if you’ll read mine.”
Laughing, I say, “Sure thing. Hand it over.”
We swap papers and read through them, marking suggested edits on each other’s work. I hand his back before the lecture starts and peek at the notes he made on mine.
“You’re officially my editor,” he teases.