Fates Divided: Halven Rising

Elena couldn’t deny the things she’d done and witnessed the last two days. Or that the Fae’s story provided an explanation for her mother’s absence, if not a highly unusual one. But how did they expect her to cure them of a deadly Fae disease?

The atmosphere in the strange classroom had been charged from the moment Elena was thrust inside. With so much going on, she couldn’t dissect what the Fae had told her in a rational manner. Their question about her helping them had been more of an order than a request.

“I’d like to go home before I answer,” she said.

Portia shot her another tight smile. “You have one hour.”

How would she figure anything out in an hour?

Elena turned unsteadily. A little time was better than no time. She needed to process everything that had happened—needed the comfort of her apartment and Reese to figure out what was real and what wasn’t.

She walked toward the door that led to the physics auditorium, her limbs heavy. Keen allowed her to pass, but she sensed him behind her while she exited the building.

Elena glanced back. “You don’t need to follow me.”

He stared straight ahead. “I am your guard while you work on the antidote. Until the disease is contained, I will ensure your safety.”

She stopped in mid-stride. “I haven’t agreed to help.” Nor did she think she could help, even if she was considering it. Abilities or not, how the heck did they expect an undergrad to create an antidote to a virus? “And Portia didn’t say anything about me being in danger.”

Keen shrugged. “Whoever created the virus targeted our people. If you try to help us, they’ll want you dead.”

That was the craziest thing she’d heard so far. In the span of two days, she’d transformed from a bookworm to a magic wielder in mortal danger?

“This is madness, you know,” she said, and continued walking.

“For you, perhaps.” Keen’s long stride equaled two of hers. “For us, battle is a part of our existence.”

“Well, I’m not sure I want to know my ‘other culture’ if that’s the case.”

“We do not choose our family, Elena.”

His face remained expressionless. She suspected there was a story there, but since she had bigger issues to worry about, she left it alone.

Keen insisted on driving her home, though she lived only a short distance from campus. Elena probably should have refused, but her abductor had lost his dangerous edge once he’d started talking about not being able to choose family and how he was ordered to protect her.

She idly ran a finger along the leather seat of his sleek black sedan. It somehow appeared sporty, but she supposed real sports cars didn’t come in jumbo size for seven-foot Fae. Between their turn-of-the-century classroom and modern cars, these people were old-school thrown into modern times. “You and Portia said a person created the virus. What did you mean by that? People don’t create viruses, unless they’re of the computer variety.”

Keen looked for oncoming traffic and turned a corner. “Human viruses do not affect us. This is no ordinary affliction. Someone created a disease designed to destroy our healing capability.”

“Right. Your healing capability.” Whatever that meant.

He glanced over, taking in the skeptical expression she didn’t bother to hide. “You are fresh into your abilities. You may not have experienced it yet.” A small knife flashed in his hand.

“What the hell?” Elena pressed her shoulder to the door. Why had she thought for one second that she was safe with this guy?

He ran the blade over his steering arm where the sleeve of his shirt didn’t cover his wrist. Blood dripped onto his black pants. He continued driving with the bloodied wrist and flicked on the blinker to turn another corner.

Okay, so he wasn’t going to kill her, but…“What are you doing?” Elena glanced out the window. They were only a couple of blocks from her apartment, nowhere near the urgent care. “We have to go to the hospital. You need stitches for that.”

“Not necessary.” Keen reached across her and popped the glove compartment. Pens and a tire gauge clattered around as he unearthed a stack of napkins. He used them to wipe the blood off his arm. “We heal.”

His flesh was smooth and unblemished where the blade had slashed.

Oh hell. What had she gotten herself into?

They were immortal, Portia had said. With the exception of this virus that was killing them, they were immune to disease. And apparently that meant they healed from injuries in seconds.

Elena sank in her seat. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that what you’re telling me is true,” she said shakily. “And I’m in danger from—from certain people. How do I protect myself?”

“What I say is always true, as you will find of all Fae. As to the other, I will protect you.” A languid smile spread across his face, one hand splaying down his body, as if to show off the package that was Keen.

The gesture was so arrogant and male she snorted—before she realized what she was doing. Keen wasn’t a man. Not in the sense she knew.

“Do not worry,” he said. “If all goes as planned, a cure will soon be devised and no one will know of your involvement.”

His words didn’t reassure.

Keen pulled to a stop in front of Elena’s complex, and she yanked the car door open, desperate to get away from the madness. “Thanks for the ride.”

She hurried up the cement path, but before she could reach the door, Keen came out of nowhere. He swept past, lightly bumping into her, but his body was massive and his little nudge sent her stumbling off the path and onto the lawn between her building and her neighbor’s house.

She straightened and caught a blur across the yard in front of Derek’s door. Or was that her vision doing weird things again? Keen grabbed the keys dangling from her fingers while she was distracted.

“Hey.” Elena scrambled onto the pavement. “What are you doing?”

He unlocked the front door of the building, then the door to her apartment on the first floor. He stepped inside.

How had Keen known which apartment was hers?

Because they’d been following her; how else would they know the things they did? Awesome.

Elena skittered after him as he opened bedrooms and peered inside closets. “Stop!”

At least Reese wasn’t home. Explaining why there was a seven-foot Fae barging into her room would have been a challenge.

“Get out of my apartment, Keen. I agreed to you taking me home, not making yourself at home.”

Ignoring her, he walked down the hall and into her bedroom.

She rushed after him and peered around the doorjamb. He stood in the center of her room and regarded it for a moment before fluidly ducking his head beneath her bed. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw—or didn’t see—he rose and strode to the closet.

She’d met Portia and the others less than an hour ago. There shouldn’t be danger lurking around. Should there? “Is this really necessary?”

Keen reached inside the closet, and his arm reappeared with a lacy blue bra dangling from his cigar-sized finger. He grinned.

“What the—let go of that!” She stalked across the room and tore the unmentionable from him. “You’re taking this too far. This wasn’t a part of the bargain.”

Keen’s eyes lost their glint. “You don’t know what you bargained for.”

“Bargain?” The question came from behind them.

Elena swiveled to find Derek standing in the doorway, his gaze piercing Keen.

She threw the bra behind her. What was he doing here?

Keen’s chest rose and fell on a sigh. “I’ll be outside when you wish to leave. For all our sakes, make your decision quickly. Things will go better that way.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

But of course Keen didn’t answer. He moved toward the door, only Derek was blocking the exit. A second passed as the two stared each other down.

For the love of God… “Let him pass, Derek.” Just what she needed, a pissing war.

Derek didn’t take his eyes off Keen, but he stepped aside and Keen walked out.

“He’ll be here when you wish to leave?” Derek’s tone was casual, but his jaw clenched as he glared at the doorway. “Charming guy. Sounds like a jail warden.”

Elena sank onto her bed and flopped back. She closed her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Uh-uh, tell me what’s going on.” His footsteps grew closer, and the heat of his large body brushed her side. “First, you almost blow up my lab, and now this…person is in your house talking about bargains? I have a right to know what’s happening.”

She blinked her eyes open. “Why? What does Keen have to do with you?”

“Maybe nothing. But if he’s why you needed the lab last night, I want to know. Some of your compound got on my hands, and now I’m seeing things.”

Okay, so he lied.

Derek wasn’t seeing things. He was worried about her, that was all. Last night in the lab, Elena had been unsteady on her feet after the explosion. He’d followed her home to make sure she returned safely, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she was keeping something from him. And considering what he’d hidden the last couple of years, he knew a little about secrets.

Elena sat up. “This is so not what I need right now.” She wagged her head, then her eyes narrowed. “How did you get in, anyway? The front door to the building is always locked, and I never told you which apartment I live in.”

“I walked in as someone was leaving. And the front door to your apartment was cracked open. I heard voices and recognized yours.” Derek omitted that he’d already known which apartment was hers. Had known for months. He kept track of all his neighbors.

The blond girl Elena lived with burst into the bedroom, holding up two cards. “Check out our kick-ass fake…” Her voice trailed off, and she eyed Derek. “Hey.” She smiled and turned to Elena. “Did another guy just leave?”

Elena waved toward him absently. “Reese, this is Derek, one of our druggie neighbors. Derek, this is my roommate.”

Druggie neighbor? Good. Let her think he was like his roommates. He’d chosen them because they were too busy getting high to notice anything odd.

Elena glanced at the cards in her roommate’s hand. “What’s up, Reese?”

Reese smiled and rushed over to sit beside Elena on the bed. She handed her one of the cards. “It only took three weeks of heavy flirting with the computer nerd in advanced calculus, but I got them.” She bounced up and down.

Elena held the card up to the light. “This ID looks real.”

“Of course it does. The guy has connections.” She nudged Elena in the shoulder. “What d’ya say, Phyllis Downs?”

Derek coughed into his palm, stifling a laugh, and Elena glared.

She pressed her fingers to her temple and sighed. “That’s the worst name ever, Reese. It sounds like a porn star.” Her shoulders were slumped, her body filled with tension.

Her reaction to the fake IDs was heavier than he thought the situation warranted.

Reese’s mouth parted. “Whatever. My name’s Mona Pratt. They were the computer nerd’s suggestion. He was doing me a favor. I didn’t complain.” She nudged Elena again. “Come on, Phyllis, let’s get our drink on. Big Billy’s has twenty-five-cent beers until five. If we leave now, we can make it in time.” She stood and looked at Derek. “You should join us.”

Elena hadn’t smiled once during the exchange with Reese. Something was up, and Derek suspected it had to do with the giant blond ninja who’d left. What had the guy done to her?

“I’m changing,” Reese chirped, and whirled from the room. “Be ready in a few minutes, Elena. This will make up for last night’s lame birthday celebration.”

Derek’s brow quirked. “Birthday?”

“Yesterday. I turned eighteen,” Elena said absently.

A prickle of unease jogged down Derek’s spine. His eighteenth birthday had been memorable, and not for good reasons.

But that couldn’t be what was wrong with Elena. As far as Derek knew, no one experienced the kind of birthday surprise he had.

Elena stared emotionlessly at the license in her hand as though she wasn’t even seeing it. A grayish tinge replaced the tan and rose in her cheeks.

“You okay?” he asked.

Her gaze drifted to him, filled with an emotion that looked an awful lot like panic.

Shit. He walked over and crouched, his shoulders level with hers. Her body shook, her breath coming out in spits and spurts. She wasn’t crying, was she? “What’s wrong?”

Her throat bobbed in a swallow, but she didn’t respond.

Derek sat on the bed beside her. “Was it the ninja? He didn’t do anything before I got here, did he?” Anger filled him. He knew he didn’t like that guy. If he’d hurt her…

“The ninja…? You mean Keen. No, he didn’t do anything. Not the way you’re thinking.” She buried her face in her hands.

What was that supposed to mean? The guy had either hurt her or he hadn’t, and it sounded like he had.

Derek stood, unsure whether to hunt the guy down, remain with Elena, or stay out of it entirely. He didn’t need this shit.

Elena fisted a handful of his T-shirt in her small palm. “Don’t go.”

Her stormy hazel eyes were his undoing.

Elena came across as independent and strong, though some of that armor had cracked last night. To see her this upset meant whatever was bothering her was big.

Derek could be a cold SOB, but he couldn’t turn his back on a weeping woman. He was from the Midwest, his mother a born-and-bred Southerner.

That was the only reason he sat back down and pulled her into his arms. It had nothing to do with the spasm in his chest at the sight of her crying.

After a moment, Elena reached for a tissue on the side table, one arm still clamped around his waist. A strand of dark, wavy hair brushed his chin, leaving a wake of fruity, Elena-scented air behind.

His head automatically dipped closer.

She dabbed her eyes, then pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “All this—this trying to fit in and have fun—it’s impossible. My world will never be the same after today.”