Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Ten

I bolted awake but relaxed as my tiny bedroom greeted me. My clothes were still strewn on the dresser alongside stacks of books with no homes. Maybe it had all been a dream…

My fingers fumbled to find the chain around my neck, the pendant solid and real, and I moaned, “No.”

Not a dream at all. I had been at the Nether Court. I had made a bargain with a fae prince. And even though I felt the heart pounding in my chest, it was no longer my own. I was the property of Lachlan Gage. At least according to some magically binding contract.

Forcing myself from the bed’s warm cocoon, I gritted my teeth and yanked off yesterday’s dress to find something warmer to wear. That wasn’t a problem I was used to having in New Orleans, thanks to my landlord being too shitty to fix my AC. I glared at the working window unit blowing icy air across my skin, knowing it had to be Gage.

It took a fair amount of digging to find my robe in a pile of unfolded laundry that had probably been sitting in the basket since last fall. In the bathroom, I couldn’t avoid the proof of what I’d done. My eyes were dry and scratchy from lying awake trying to puzzle out the cryptic and confusing challenge he’d set. I didn’t remember falling asleep or how the necklace’s magic had worked.

The pendant taunted me from the reflection as I brushed my teeth, catching the light and winking at me like the arrogant fae asshole who had given it to me. I wanted to take it off, to drop it down the drain, but since Gage had warned me he would know, I did not. If I didn’t return to uphold my end of the bargain, Channing wouldn’t be safe.

And I owed my brother more than I’d ever been able to give him.

It wasn’t until Gran took me in that I found somewhere I belonged. But that hadn’t happened overnight. Even after she’d convinced me to put on my ring, I didn’t trust her. Despite the dresser she’d given me, it had taken months before I’d stopped keeping my few personal belongings in a trash bag, ready to move at a moment’s notice. When Channing had come along a year later, I’d decided I would be someone he could count on, too. Gran’s house was the first place I allowed myself to think about life, about my future. She’d encouraged me to apply for college, even driven me to a few local schools to go on tour. And when she had gotten sick, she’d held on just long enough to see me graduate. To make me promise to watch over Channing.

If there was a heaven, she was probably up there shaking her head over how badly I’d screwed that up. She had warned us about Gage, and I had let Channing get mixed up with him. That was on me. I twisted the emerald around my finger to hide the stone, as if she was watching me with it. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t around to see my colossal failure.

Still, part of me was relieved that the gun hadn’t been loaded.

That I hadn’t killed Gage.

I might have failed Channing, but what would Gran think if I had become a murderer?

I found my purse and clothing on the nightstand like I’d been dropped off and tucked into bed instead of whisked away by a magic necklace. Because a working air conditioner wasn’t creepy enough—and proof that Gage was paying attention to every word that I said. My phone had died, because the Otherworld might have fantastic fucking food but no power outlets. I went to find a charger while I contemplated the medieval torture of it. How was I supposed to vanish every night and put up with shit like that?

Not that I was living in luxury here.

My house was a small rental with only two bedrooms and one large room that served as a kitchen, dining room, and living room all rolled into one. Everything inside was worn and dated, from the kitchen cabinets to the cheap, beige carpeting that was so old it felt like sandpaper on my bare feet. I’d filled it with secondhand furniture from local thrift stores. Library books covered the water rings on the coffee table. A blanket was thrown over the couch’s thin upholstery to cover its sags and creases. Everything was utilitarian. There to serve a purpose, not look pretty.

The only decor I’d bothered with was a collection of pictures on the fridge. I’d snipped them from magazines so long ago that their edges were curled and yellowing. Paris. Venice. London. Hong Kong. Prague. Places I had never been that I wanted to remind myself existed—places outside of New Orleans. The closest I’d ever gotten to any of them was in the pages of a book.

When I finally got my phone plugged in, it powered on to show a dozen missed calls and texts—all from the hospital.

I dialed Haley directly, because if they’d been calling to upgrade my suspension to a full-blown termination, I’d rather hear it from her. She didn’t answer, and she still hadn’t called back by the time I was out of the shower. Channing’s phone went straight to voicemail. I threw on some clothes and decided I couldn’t avoid the real world any longer. But I was dragging ass by the time I turned the radio up in my Volvo, ignored the engine warning light for the thousandth time in a row, and headed a few blocks to the hospital.

The waiting room was already full. A quick visual sweep told me it was the usual mix: overly cautious parents with sick kids, a woman doubled over with what was probably food poisoning, and a man holding a bloodied rag to his head. It took effort not to check on them. But the only thing worse than kissing Garcia’s ass to get my suspension lifted would be doing it if he found out I’d been treating patients in his waiting room.

Pausing at the desk, I flashed my badge to Barb, who grimaced.

“I know you’re suspended.” She peered over the thick rim of her glasses. “But I might have forgotten to turn off your badge. Are you sure you want to go back there?”

I screwed up my face. “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

“Good luck,” she called as I swiped my badge. The door buzzed open with an ominous, echoing click.

Haley caught sight of me as soon as I was on the other side and beelined my direction, her long braids swaying with each step. As she reached me, she grabbed my arm, her brown eyes wide. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I was dealing with something.” Not a lie, exactly.

She frowned, her fingers digging into me as she dragged me into an empty triage room. “You went to see the Gages, didn’t you?” she asked in a low voice even though we were alone. “You think I don’t know what you were up to when you left the other night? Christ, I’ve been losing my mind. Tell me you didn’t do anything reckless.”

Define reckless. I bit the words back. “More reckless than getting suspended?” I fingered my badge before sliding it into the back pocket of my jeans. “Or am I fired?”

“No clue. Garcia has been dealing with the police.” Her eyes widened with accusation, like I needed a reminder of who had involved law enforcement.

“A crime was committed.” Now that I knew the truth, I questioned that call, but I wasn’t about to admit that.

“Well, Channing hasn’t been very cooperative. They sent some rookie down here, and he’s making Garcia jump through hoops, trying to get statements from all of us. He even stationed someone outside Channing’s door.”

I sighed. “So, I’m in deep shit all around?”

“I don’t think you’re getting employee of the month.” She shook her head and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Maybe bring Garcia some of the beignets from that place on Canal?”

She was probably right, but even though Dr. Garcia held my career’s future in his hands, he wasn’t the reason I was here. “How is Channing?”

Haley released me, a bemused smile flashing across her face. “Not speaking to anyone. The only time he says anything is to ask for pain meds or food.”

My jaw clenched on a few choice words, frustration bubbling inside me. He could be mad at me all he wanted. He was the one who had gotten shot, and if I did regret getting the police involved, it was only because I now realized how truly powerless they were against Gage. Though none of that was a good enough reason to be rude to the people who were helping him. “Is that so? Let me see him.”

Haley swept a hand toward the door. “Be my guest. I need to get back out there. We’re short-staffed.”

I winced, her words lodging directly in my gut. The hospital’s staffing issues were only worse with me gone. I drew a deep breath as I followed her into the organized chaos of the emergency room. Weaving my way through the white coats and scrubs, I made my way to the nurse’s station to check his room number before heading upstairs.

A uniformed police officer greeted me at Channing’s room with a gruff, “No visitors.” He looked back at his phone.

“I’m not a visitor. I’m a nurse.” I showed him my badge. “He came through my department the other night. I wanted—”

“Whatever.” He waved me inside, either sensing the lie or not caring enough to argue. I shuffled past him with an overly sweet thank-you.

Despite spending most of my adult life in a hospital, I wasn’t prepared for the sight that waited for me. I’d been too freaked out to absorb what had happened the other night. But now?

Tubes snaked from Channing’s arms and his chest, connecting him to IV bags and monitors. He was as pale as the sheets tucked around his body. But his chest rose and fell peacefully as he slept. He looked small again, like he had when he was a kid. That wasn’t what stopped me in my tracks, though. It was the handcuffs.

His eyes fluttered open, blinking in sleepy confusion as he spotted me. I smiled, and his confusion shifted to cold anger.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I work here.”

He angled his head. “Do you?”

“Good news travels fast,” I muttered as I approached the bed. “I came to check in on you.”

“Why? Wanted to see if you could fuck up my life a little more?”

I flinched slightly, covering my reaction by reaching for his chart. I flipped through it, reassured to see that he was truly stable. “You’ll be released from here soon,” I told him as I hung it back up.

“To a waiting cell?” he asked bitterly.

This was going well. “Better than a coffin.” I glared down at him from the end of the bed. “What did you expect me to do?”

“You called the police!” A monitor beeped loudly as his heart rate shot up. “They won’t leave me the fuck alone. They have me on illegal possession of a firearm, thanks to you!”

“The other guy died!” I reminded him. “It could be worse. You’ll get probation.”

He shook his head. “They think I’m going to turn on the Gages.”

Fear opened a pit in my stomach. What would happen if he did tell them about Gage? Would the bargain I’d made for my soul be enough if trouble showed up on the Avalon’s doorstep? I doubted it would matter. Gage probably had plenty of people in the police force in his pocket, but he might resent cleaning up another mess for me. “I’m sure nothing will happen,” I lied smoothly, but I felt anything but certain. “Gage can buy his way out.”

“You don’t know him,” he said darkly.

I swallowed. If Channing knew what I’d done, he would lose it. That’s why it was better if he spent a little time incarcerated while I found the answer to ending the bargain. “I know how the world works. Or at least how New Orleans works. I wouldn’t worry about Lachlan.”

“Lachlan?” he repeated.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Why had I called Gage that? “That’s the asshole’s name, right?”

“Cate.” Channing scooted up a little, studying me carefully. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Home.” Blood roared in my ears, my heart racing even as my face betrayed nothing. One of the few life skills being a foster kid taught me was how to lie. The trouble with that was Channing had the exact same skill set. It was a lot harder to lie to him. “I was suspended, remember? Where else would I be?”

“I tried to call.” Suspicion colored his voice. “You—”

“You aren’t the only one allowed to be angry,” I cut him off, crossing my arms. I couldn’t let him find out about the bargain, and there was one sure way to keep him from puzzling this out. “I called the police because you broke your word. If you won’t stay away from Gage, I will keep you away from him.”

He muttered something that sent my eyebrows shooting up. I waited for him to explode again, but he simply slumped into the bed. “Yeah, thanks for your help.”

I waited for a minute, torn between trying to reason with him and giving in to my own anger. In the end, I opted for the latter. “You’re welcome.”

Silence sat heavy between us. How had it come to this? My chest tightened. Channing was the one person I could count on to always have my back, and now we were keeping secrets from each other. But I didn’t know what he would do if I told him the truth. It was better to keep him away while I found a way out of this mess for the both of us.

Eventually, I said I was leaving, and he didn’t try to stop me. By the time I reached my car, my hands were shaking with the effort not to give in and cry. But crying wouldn’t help anyone, least of all me.

Climbing into my ancient Volvo, I turned the key, and the engine sputtered, followed by a thunk. I closed my eyes and tried again, opening them to discover smoke billowing from the hood.

“No!” I jumped out of the car, but before I could hit the latch button to open it up and see what the problem was, I saw the first flame. “Nooo!”

My car was on fire. Of course it was, because my life was hell—a flame’s natural habitat.

I tried to stay calm as I bent to rummage in my purse for my phone. The pendant fell into my line of sight, and I shoved it out of the way. Spotting my phone on the front seat, I silently cursed and prayed to the gods for help as I opened the door to grab it.

But a god didn’t answer.