The Prince crashed into me, taking me to the ground before I had a chance to see who was shooting at us. I had only a moment to prepare myself for the bone-shaking impact with the ground, but that never came.
Somehow, he shifted at the final second, taking the brunt of the fall. He hit the ground hard, my front plastered to his long length for about a heartbeat and then he rolled suddenly, shoving me under his body as the cracks of a gun firing went off again—and again. My entire body jerked in surprise as a bullet hit the ground right beside our heads, sending tiny pieces of gravel into the air.
The Prince lifted his head and those near transparent eyes locked onto mine. “Stay down,” he ordered.
“W-What?”
Launching to his feet, he spun around and then he was no longer there, moving so fast I couldn’t track him in the shadowy alley.
I flipped onto my belly, lifting my head as I kept low to the ground. I was going to stay down, because I really didn’t want to get hit. Another shot rang out and then I heard a grunt as my gaze swung to the back of the alley.
Two large forms collided. There was a flash of reddish-yellow glow coming from the hands of the Prince, a circular flash of light that reminded me of a fire ball. And then the smell of burnt metal filled the air a second before one of the bodies flew back several feet, slamming into the building opposite me.
The body fell forward into the dim light. My eyes widened as I saw that it was a fae. That… that was uncommon.
They rarely used guns, but unless a human had doused themselves in silver paint and had their ears shaved into points, that was definitely a fae.
The Prince tossed the ruined gun aside, and I knew he’d been the source of the burnt scent of metal. He’d done something to that gun.
Dear God, that kind of power….
He prowled forward like a caged animal finally unleashed, his chin dipped low, and I swore those pale eyes were glowing. “Who sent you?” he demanded, his voice a deadly growl that sent a wave of shivers through me. “Was it Aric?”
Struggling to his feet, the fae swayed as he reached into his boot. I tensed, expecting him to whip out another gun.
I was wrong.
It was an iron stake.
The fae grabbed it with his bare hand. He hissed in pain, lips peeling back in a snarl as he straightened.
The Prince shot forward. “Don’t—”
Too late.
Slamming the business end of the stake into the center of his chest, the fae ended it right then and there. Within a few short seconds the fae who’d shot at us was gone.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, raising unsteadily to my feet. “Did that just happen?”
“Yes.” The Prince was suddenly in front of me, causing me to jerk back a step. His expression was drawn and tight. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I think so.” I felt myself up, searching for holes that shouldn’t be there. “What the hell just happened?”
“I do believe we were being shot at.”
Hands stilling, I lifted my gaze back to his. “Gee. Really? Let me clarify my question. Why do you think a fae shot at us and then sent his sniper ass back to the Otherworld? That doesn’t happen every day.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. Not in my world. It happens in yours?”
“I’ve made a lot of enemies, sunshine. A lot who’d rather see me return to who I was,” he said, and my chest squeezed at the mere mention of him returning to the Prince who was an absolute nightmare. “Or see me dead.”
“That’s kind of scary—” Gasping, I jerked my hand away from my stomach. It was wet, and even in the poor lighting, I could see the dark smudges. “There’s blood on my hand.”
“You said you were okay.” One hand was suddenly wrapped around my wrist while the other was on my stomach, pressing.
“Hey!” I smacked at his hand, but he studiously ignored me. “I don’t think I’m bleeding.” When he still felt along my midsection, I caught his hand and squeezed hard. “I think it’s your blood.”
“I’m fine,” he gruffed out. “Are you sure you haven’t been hit?”
“Pretty sure I’d know if I’d been shot,” I said, squinting at him. He was wearing a dark thermal and pants, like he had the first time I’d seen him. I placed my hand on his right shoulder and felt nothing. I slid my hand down his chest, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice deeper, thicker.
My gaze lifted to his, and I thought I probably should pull my hand away, but I didn’t. I moved to the other pec, and it was me who sucked in air this time. Wet warmth hit my palm. “You’ve been shot.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” I exclaimed. He let go of my wrist, so I got both hands involved. “You’ve been shot in the shoulder, too!”
The Prince said nothing.
I didn’t know the biology of Ancients, but I figured, like the fae, they could survive mortal wounds. But a chest and shoulder wound? I stepped back, lowering my hands and wiping them over my jeans. Did the pant leg of his right thigh look darker? Shot three times? That… that was a lot.
My stomach pitched with concern I probably shouldn’t feel, but he had covered my body with his when shots rung out and he had paid for the crab cakes and crawfish.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, looking over my shoulder, to the entrance of the alley. “With that many gunshots, police will be on their way. Can you heal yourself?”
“Normally.” His voice was off. Not like it had been when I’d been feeling him up or Monday night, but there was something strained about it. “You should get out of here before the police arrive.”
Or more gun toting fae showed up since this was apparently an everyday occurrence to him. “What do you mean by normally?”
“Do you always ask this many questions?” he demanded.
“Yes. Is it annoying?”
“Yes,” he growled.
“Sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with it,” I shot back.
He’d moved back into the shadows, but I could practically feel his glare. “You know that the fae can heal from virtually any wound if they feed,” he said.
And rather quickly too. That’s what made fighting them so dangerous. You didn’t have a lot of time for what they’d consider flesh wounds.
“I know that, so you should….” Understanding dawned. “You… you need to feed?”
He let out a dry, racking laugh. “Something like that.”
“When was the last time you… you fed?” Those words sickened me, and a part of me didn’t want to know the answer.
“A while.”
I stared at him for what felt like a whole minute. “What exactly does ‘a while’ mean? A couple of days? A week?”
“Try longer than that.”
A frown pulled at my lips. “Longer than a couple of weeks?”
That didn’t make sense to me, especially with him being at a place like The Court where humans were happily on the menu.
He said nothing.
“A month? A couple of months?” I whispered. Knowing what I did about the fae, they had to feed on a regular basis to slow down the aging process and give them their preternatural abilities. The Prince might look like he was in his mid to late twenties, but he had to be hundreds of years old, if not older. The fae metabolism was much like ours. They might not need three square human meals a day, but from the Order’s research, they had to feed at least once every other day.
“You need to go,” he said as the faint sound of sirens could be heard.
“And leave you here to bleed all over yourself, the alley, and perhaps even on police officers?”
“Do you really care what happens to me?”
My fingers twitched. “No.”
“Then go.” He started to back up.
I should go. I should leave his ass here to bleed out like a stuck pig. He was an Ancient, and even if he hadn’t fed in a few months….
Holy crap.
It struck me then. “You haven’t fed this whole time, have you? Not since the spell was broken.”
He tossed a glare at me over his shoulder through thin slits. “Aren’t you leaving?”
“What does that mean then if you haven’t fed in like two years? Can these wounds—”
“Kill me unless it’s treated or I feed? Probably not, but it’ll take a while to heal.” Grunting, he pushed against the hole in his shoulder. “I just need to get out of this alley.”
“You can’t go to the hospital.” Having a very human doctor discover that fae were a real thing was not exactly on the to-do list for tonight.
“No shit,” he grumbled.
I ignored that. “I can—I can get you back to Hotel Good—”
“No,” he interrupted, and I thought that he might’ve swayed a little. “You will not contact them.”
Confusion filled me. “What? Why?”
“Can you just accept an answer without following up with another damn question?” He let out another curse. “God, you’re infuriating.”
I lifted an eyebrow at that. “You know, if I am so infuriating, then you probably shouldn’t have stalked me into the alley.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” he grumbled. “And if I hadn’t been then you’d have ended up dead.”
I threw up my hands. “First off, you just admitted to stalking me after saying you didn’t, and we’ll address that, but most importantly? I’m not the one bleeding all over myself, now am I?”
He didn’t respond to that, at least not vocally, but I had a feeling he was mentally cursing me out.
“I’m fine. I just… I just need to get to my place,” he said, and he sounded like those words pained him.
The sirens were getting closer, and I needed to make up my mind. He needed help, whether he wanted it or not.
Taking a deep breath, I walked over to where he stood and decided. “Like it or not, I’m going to help you.”
* * * *
There weren’t a lot of moments in my life where I had to stop and ask myself what in the fuck I was doing.
For the most part, I lived a practical, boring existence—well, outside of my plan to hunt down the fae who’d attacked my mother and me. Other than that, I was like a bowl of white rice without any soy sauce.
But here I was, waiting for the Prince—the Prince—to unlock the door to what appeared to be one of the many old warehouses that had been converted into upscale condos.
Luckily he hadn’t argued with me when I’d led him out of the alley, and I was leading him. By the time we reached Royal Street, in the opposite direction of the sirens, his steps had slowed to a near crawl. I was able to flag down a cab and thank God, as far as I knew, he didn’t bleed all over the backseat.
The Prince didn’t speak beyond giving the cabbie his address. Not again after the ride. Not as I helped him get to the elevator and we went to the tenth floor, the top floor, and not as I stood beside him, shouldering what felt like the weight of a Volkswagen Bug.
The door finally opened and warm air rushed out as the Prince stumbled inside. A light came on, revealing a massive open floor design that… that didn’t even look lived in.
The walls were exposed brick and the living area faced floor to ceiling windows. There were two doors. One near the entrance that I figured was some kind of closet and the other on the other side of the living room. There was a TV and a large black, sectional couch, but beyond that, there was nothing else. At all.
“You can leave now.” He walked forward, stopping to place his hand on the white marble countertops that edged out the gourmet level kitchen that looked like it never once saw a meal cooked in it.
Because I was apparently making a series of bad life choices tonight, I followed him inside, closing the door behind me.
“Are you going to be okay?” I toyed with the button on my peacoat.
Lowering his head, he let out a long, shuddering breath. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” I inched closer to him, and I could smell it now. It mingled with that summer scent of his. I saw it on his hand, the bluish-red tint of fae blood. “Is there someone I can call? Your brother—”
“Do not call my brother,” he bit out, his fingers curling into a fist on the marble. “Do not call anyone.”
Exasperated, I looked around the condo before my eyes settled on him. “Obviously you’re not okay. You haven’t fed and you’re bleeding all over your nice wood floors. And I have no idea why you haven’t fed in two years—not that I don’t think that’s great and all, but your brother says he uses human volunteers—”
“You say that like you don’t believe it, but yes, my brother does not take from those who are not willing.”
“And you couldn’t find any volunteers?”
“There you go again, with the questions.” He shook his head slowly. “You need to leave.”
“But—”
“I do not think you understand.” He lifted his head again, and yep, those eyes were definitely starting to glow. He stared at me like… like he was hungry. Starved, really. “You need to leave now.”
A wave of shivers rolled over my skin as an innate sense forced me to take a step back from him. The atmosphere around us seemed to thin and charge with static.
The Prince turned, tracking my movements with a near predatory glint to those glowing faint blue eyes. “I won’t tell you again. If you don’t leave, you won’t have the choice to.”