“If I’m not who you want, then why am I still here? And how did you know my name?”
“A mistake was made, and you were involved. There is certain protocol to be followed when something like this happens. Keeping you wasn’t a decision Max made. I did. However, you weren’t meant to be handled the way you were. Max wasn’t supposed to go into the room. As for your name, I had one of my guys run your prints.”
My eyes widen. This guy is certifiably insane—they all are. “I have a family, you know. And the last time I checked, kidnapping is a crime.”
“You’ll find that your laws mean nothing to us. We have our own laws—our own moral code.” He seems to believe what he’s telling me. Or he’s a damn good actor. “As for the family you mentioned . . .” He rubs his jaw as if he’s deciding what to say. “It seems they are partly to blame for the unfortunate mix-up.”
I lick the dryness from my lips and shake my head. “You’re insane.”
“Max can be a little unfocused at times, especially under the circumstances last night.” He huffs out an agitated sigh. “He wasn’t exactly sober, but I can understand how he mistook you for the intended target.”
This keeps getting crazier. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes take on a curious light as they flicker across my face. “You truly have no idea, do you?”
I glare at him. “No, I don’t.”
“You have fae ancestors. I’d guess hundreds of years back, and considering your surname, they’d be on your father’s side. None related closely enough to make you fae, but close enough that a small remnant of their magic lies dormant within you. That’s why Max thought you were the one he was assigned to collect.”
I burst out laughing. “I’m not sure where you’re getting this shit from. I don’t think you understand how crazy you sound.” The throbbing behind my eyes returns, but more from the stress and how fast my head is spinning than from Max’s assault.
The corner of his mouth quirks. “You don’t believe me.” It’s not a question.
“I just met you,” I say in a quiet voice. “I don’t believe anything.” He’s trying to use my family to make me buy his story.
He steps closer and places a finger under my chin, gently tilting it upward, as if he’s concerned he’ll hurt me.
I freeze as his eyes dance across my face, as though he’s studying every inch meticulously.
He slowly traces the line of my jaw, brushing my hair back and tucking it behind my ear. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, his voice soft.
I swallow and shake my head. “No.”
“Aurora.”
“Tristan,” I level.
He smiles. “You’re not afraid of me.”
I consider what he says and decide he’s right. As much as I probably should fear him—the alleged leader of the fae—I don’t.
“You silly, silly human,” he says, shaking his head in exasperation, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “It’s a good thing you aren’t going to remember any of this.”
His fingers warm against my skin, and his eyes capture mine in a gaze that goes on too long. Then, his eyebrows rise, and he adjusts his hand, squinting slightly as he peers into my eyes.
I blink at him. “What are you doing?”
He drops his hand and lets loose a surprised laugh. “This is going to be a problem.”
“Hold on. What did you mean by you aren’t going to remember any of this? Holy shit, were you trying to give me some freaky ass fae amnesia?”
His lips twitch. “It would seem my manipulation doesn’t work on you.”
Despite the pounding of my heart, I smile. He can’t control me.
Tristan seems civilized for a fae, not that I’ve come across any before today. I’m finding it hard to wrap my head around the possible existence of them. He looks deceptively human, aside from his vivid eyes. It makes my head spin, more so when I consider there’s a tiny chance he’s being truthful. I could be living among the fae without any knowledge. I could have family ties to the fae.
I scan the undecorated hallway outside the elevator, searching for a sign of hidden cameras, but find nothing. I’m cold, disconnected from my body, as if someone is going to jump out and tell me this whole thing is a prank. Or I’ll wake up any second, lying in my dorm room in a cold sweat, shivering from this nightmare.
Tristan asks me to follow him, and I concede, figuring I have a better chance at escaping if I’m somewhere with a window or a door. We step into the small elevator, and I put as much distance between us as possible. Tristan’s lips twitch in amusement, but I ignore him.
He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “You’ll have to forgive me for Max’s behavior.”
I press my lips into a tight line and keep my eyes forward. “I don’t blame you for his behavior,” I say in a low voice. “I blame you for the fact that I’m still here.”
He nods. “I see.”
I lean against the wall and cross my arms. “You can’t keep me here.” My voice is quieter than I want. It lacks assurance, and I hate that.
“Have I said anything to lead you to believe I’m keeping you here?” he asks.
“Actions speak louder,” I retort. “I was chained to a fucking chair.”
He shifts his gaze over to me, but I refuse to meet it. “I had no plans to keep you here once I adjusted your memory. I don’t particularly enjoy keeping the company of someone who does not wish to keep mine.”
“Right, so then where does that leave us?”
He scratches along his jaw. “I can’t let you go yet. Not knowing what you do.”
I scowl. “How the hell is that my fault? I didn’t ask for this!”
“I understand that,” he says, his voice strained.
I shake my head, “Listen, I won’t tell anyone about what happened. About you, okay? You don’t have to be concerned about me.”
Tristan’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath. “This isn’t an ideal situation for either side. I put my people above all else.”
“That’s cool. Really. But I can’t stay here. You’ve got to find some way to convince your ‘people’ that I’m not a threat.”
His expression remains impassive. “Aren’t you?”
“Tristan, you kidnapped me. I don’t exactly have the upper hand here.”
His brows tug closer. “Let me offer you a deal.”
My eyes widen. “A deal?”
“There’s a female fae on your campus. I need her located.”
“Why?” I ask without thinking, as if I’ve accepted the existence of fae.
“That’s not your concern. You locate the girl and contact me to collect her.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To show me I can trust you. It’s simple enough.” Simple. How can he use a word like that in this situation? Nothing about this is simple. He’s acting as if I’ll go home, and this will no longer affect me, but no matter what happens when I leave, this—meeting him—will impact my future. I have a million questions I’m too scared to ask. There are so many possibilities I’m not allowing myself to entertain. All because of him.
A flash of anger lights up my entire body. “And if I refuse?”
“Don’t refuse,” he advises.