~ Chapter Eleven ~
After several moments, Lutin spoke, “Please don’t be alarmed at this.
” He waved a hand over himself as his glamor completely faded.
Instead of beautiful flowing gray-silver hair, his hair lay knotted and caked in what appeared to be dirt or blood.
His light skin was battered and bruised in a multitude of angry blues, oranges, and purples.
Lutin’s left pointed ear had a chunk taken out of it and some of his right antler was missing.
All his Fae beauty was now hidden behind battle scars Regan wasn’t sure would ever heal.
“Oh my God!” With the revelation of Lutin’s full injuries, Regan rushed forward and sat next to Lutin. “Who did this to you? What happened? Can I get you something? Should we go to the doctor? Hospital?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll heal.” Lutin shifted with a grunt. “Give me a moment.”
Regan stood and rushed to the bathroom to pull peroxide and cotton balls. He ran a hand towel under the warm water of the sink. When he returned, Lutin was adjusted on the sofa with his eyes closed.
“Lutin,” Regan said. “Here, let’s get you cleaned up.
” Regan went to work on the cuts and the wounds, most of which were healing or scabbed over.
Still, he wanted to check Lutin out for himself.
“Let me help you.” He gently adjusted Lutin and pulled off his torn shirt, revealing more bruising and another cut on his chest, this one appearing deeper. “Fuck.”
“I’ll be?—”
“Hush.” Regan continued to clean up Lutin’s scars and cuts as best he could.
The peroxide did its job as Lutin winced every time Regan tended to his wounds.
After Regan was satisfied with getting Lutin’s wounds cleaned, he rushed to the kitchen and pulled out a cup for tea.
He used his instant hot tap and filled two cups before putting them in the microwave to heat the water further.
While the water heated, he pulled down the tea that he typically had for guests.
Once the microwave dinged, he pulled out the cups and added the tea bags.
He returned to the living room and offered Lutin a cup. “Here, this should help some.”
“Regan, I’ll be fine.” Lutin winced as he sat up, appearing always mindful of where his antlers were. “I need to rest. You don’t need to fuss.”
“You come to my home, looking like some vigilante that got the shit pummeled out of him—you’re not fine.” Regan pushed the hot cup in front of Lutin to take.
Lutin took the cup and held it between his hands. “Thank you.”
Regan sat again and pulled a coaster over to rest his hot cup. “What happened to you?”
Lutin sighed. “There was an attack. Nothing major, but Blaise showed up while you were training on Saturday and needed my help.”
“But I… there was nothing in the news. What attack?” Regan would have heard something… wouldn’t he?
“A group of Trolls were causing trouble in D.C.—”
“Trolls? In Washington D.C.?”
Lutin nodded. “You don’t honestly think all the politicians there are human, do you?”
Regan frowned. Given how many of the politicians were, that would explain a lot. “What happened?”
“The Witch council out of Salem needed some backup and we went to help.” Lutin pulled out the tea bag with his finger and set it on the used towel laying on the coffee table.
“Sorry.” Regan shook his head at the mess on the coffee table. “I… never mind. So what happened?”
“They were a little harder to deal with than we thought, but by late Sunday we got things sorted. They won’t be causing trouble again.
” Lutin cringed as he shifted, his antlers missing the painting behind him with ease.
“That’s why I missed dinner on Saturday.
I tried to pop back Saturday night, but?—”
“That was you knocking?” Regan asked. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.
“I left you a note.” Lutin reached for his torn shirt and pulled the folded piece of paper from the still-intact pocket. “It must have fallen from the door. Sorry, I was in a rush and couldn’t stay.” He handed over the note.
Regan unfolded the paper. The writing appeared to be water-damaged but dry and the paper had seen better days. If he’s lying, he went through a lot of work to make up the lie.
Regan read the note:
Regan,
Sorry about dinner tonight—there’s a situation happening in Washington D.C. I’ll be back in a day or two and fill you in. Raincheck on dinner?
Lutin.
Regan folded the note and placed it on the table. He cleared his throat. “I thought?—”
“I know. The Twins told me.” Lutin nodded, his eyes squeezing shut to fight off what Regan assumed to be more twinges of pain. “That’s why I’m here. I didn’t think things could wait a few more days.”
“You rushed here in this state to… God, I’m an asshole,” Regan moaned.
“No. Hey… I wanted to see you.” Lutin smiled. “I’ve been alone for so long I didn’t want to wait. Once events back east were sorted and I was okay to travel, I wanted to come here and see you… I couldn’t… I didn’t…” He sipped his hot drink. “This is good.”
Regan laughed.
“What?”
“I can’t believe I thought you bailed on me.
On our dinner. I mean, I thought all these things and you’re off saving the world from Trolls.
God, I’m…” He shook his head. “I treated the Twins so badly they grounded me. They took away my connection to their elements. Corcess was so angry I thought they were going to kill me. But Volrent stopped them.”
“They told you their names?”
“Well, sort of.” Regan waved off the comment. “They let them slip when—well, before they grounded me.”
“That’s impressive.” Lutin sat up higher on the couch. “They must trust you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. I think it was more a matter of my safety.”
Lutin nodded, cringing again.
“Are you really okay?” Regan scanned Lutin up and down. He had been so beat up even his lopsided antlers seemed to quiver with pain.
“I’ll be fine. I need some time to heal and I’ll be okay… really.” Lutin reached out and rested a hand on Regan’s leg.
“What about your ear and your antler?”
“The ear will heal up in a couple of days and you won’t even notice. As for my antler, that’s going to take some time, at least a season or two. The fucking Troll grabbed my antler and snapped a chunk right off. I’m so not happy about that. Bastard—but he got his.” He huffed out a laugh.
“So now what?” Regan asked. “What else can I do?”
“Well, if you haven’t eaten, we could do dinner?”
“You want to go out like this?” Regan waved a hand in Lutin’s direction. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No, probably not.” He wheezed out a huff as he shifted his weight. “We could order in. If you’re interested. I know the dinner won’t be what you planned, but I’m game if you are.”
“There’s a good pizza place not too far from here and they deliver.”
“I think we can do better than pizza.” Lutin put down his tea and held out his hand. “May I use your phone?”
Regan nodded and handed Lutin his phone. Lutin made a call, speaking in a language Regan didn’t recognize and, in a few moments, he handed the phone back to Regan. “What was that?”
“A surprise and an apology for standing you up. Fae have a reputation for being flighty. That isn’t me. I desperately looked forward to our dinner on Saturday. So, I want to make it up to you, as best I can.”
“I read something about the Fae’s reputation,” Regan admitted, his gaze dropping to the sofa and his hands clenching.
“We aren’t always the things people believe we are.” Lutin picked up his tea and took a sip. “Or write about us. Just like not all Trolls are bad—there are some good Trolls. You’ll learn that.”
“I hope none that I voted for.”
Lutin laughed. “As I said, they aren’t all bad. And really does it matter? I mean, humans get way too hung up on what people are, or how beings want to identify.” He shook his head.
How does he not hit anything with his antlers? It must be like everything else—as you grow up, you learn how to work your body.
Regan unclenched his fists. “How’s Blaise, I forgot to ask? You mentioned he went with you? Were there others?”
“No, only the two of us. About the same as me, maybe less so. We should have asked some of the additional Fae in the area… Stupid.”
“But he’ll be alright?” Regan bit at his lower lip.
“Him, yep, definitely. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t getting ready to go to the club tonight.” He sat down his tea as a smile bloomed across his face.
“Really? Given your state, I thought… well, I assumed he’d need to rest up as well.”
Lutin’s brows raised. “Oh yeah.” He chuckled, resting his head back against the sofa’s pillow.
Regan picked up his tea and took several sips of the warm liquid. The silence was nice. Hearing Lutin’s steady breath here on the couch definitely helped him relax.
By the time the doorbell rang, Regan had cleaned up all the first aid materials and treated the towel with a pre-treatment so it wouldn’t have stains.
He had provided Lutin with a t-shirt since his shirt was tattered.
Much to his surprise, Lutin looked a bit better, not so beat up and his bruises seemed to have faded ever so slightly.
Before Regan could answer the door, Lutin stood at the door, taking several bags from the delivery driver.
There was an aura around the driver that Regan didn’t recognize.
“Who were they?” Regan asked, taking the offered bags.
Lutin closed the door. “She’s a fairy. Did you notice her aura?”
“I did but I’m not overly familiar with all the different auras yet.” Regan walked to the kitchen with the bags. A few weeks ago, he would have freaked out at the mention of a fairy delivery person, but now, the revelation was another Monday. After all, he was having dinner with a Fae.
Lutin shifted back into his Fae form. “I really hope you don’t mind; the glamor takes a lot of mental and physical energy and I’d rather focus on my healing.”