Melissa Marr - Stopping Time, Part 1: A Wicked Lovely Story

Part 1

Unlike some faeries, he didnt bother with a glamour. He sat on a bench across from the tables outside the coffee shop. Their silent late-afternoon meetings had become a routine of sorts the last few months, and each week, the temptation to speak to him grew greaterwhich was why shed invited a study group to meet with her this week. Their presence was to be incentive to keep her from talking to him.

It didnt help. These together-but-not times were the closest thing shed had to a date in months. She looked forward to seeing him, thought about it throughout the week, wondering what hed be wearing, what hed be reading, if this week hed approach her.

He wouldnt. Hed promised her choices, and he wouldnt take them from her. If she spoke to him, it would be because she approached him. If she went to him, it would be of her own volition. If she wanted to stop seeing him, she could stop arriving here every week. That, too, was her choice. So far, she resisted approaching him and speaking to him. She did not, however, stop coming to the precise spot each week at the same time. They had a routine: he read whatever his book of the week was, and she studied.

And tried not to stareor go to himor speak to him.

She couldnt see the cover of his current book at first. His taste was eclectic in genre, but consistent in quality. She glanced at the book several times, trying for subtle, but he noticed.

He still notices everything.

With a grin, he lifted the bookone called American Gods this timehigher, hiding his face as a result. The extra benefit of that move was that she could look at him unabashedly while they both pretended he didnt realize she was admiring him. He appeared happier of late, far more so than when shed left Huntsdale. Ruling the Dark Court had suited him, but advising the new Dark King seemed to suit him better. He hadnt lost his taste for indulgent clothes, though. A silk tee and tailored linen trousers flattered him without being ostentatious. The silver razor blade hed worn before was accompanied by a small black glass vial. Without asking, she knew it was the same ink that she had in her tattoo.

Maudlin or romantic? She wasnt sure. Both maybe.

He lowered the book, taking away her unobserved access, and stared at her for several heartbeats. Often, he stayed invisible when he came to sit near her. This week he was very visible, though. She saw him either way, but when he was visible to others, it was extra difficult to keep her gaze off him. His visibility was an invitation of sorts, an extra temptation to approach him.

It means I could walk over and start talking to him.

Hes got it bad, one of her study partners commented.

Beside her, Michael was silent.

Leslie tore her gaze from Irial and looked at her companions. Hes an old friend.

The curiosity on their faces was obvious. She shouldnt have met them here.

A friend you dont talk to? Jills voice held the doubt that the others were too polite to voice. What kind of friend is that?

One whod move the earth for me, butLeslie glanced back at Irialnot one who brings out my better side.

His mouth quirked in a just-restrained laugh.

Got to love faery hearing. Leslie watched the girls check him outas he preened for them. It wasnt overt, but she knew him. His tendency to arrange himself to his best advantage was reflex more than choice.

Well if you dont want himmaybe I should go say hello. Jill flashed her teeth in what passed for a smile.

Leslie shrugged.

Of course, I want him. Everyone who looks at him wants him.

Anger rose up inside of her as Jill stood and started across the grassy lawn that separated the coffee shop and the bench where Irial waited. Worse still, it embarrassed her to admit that she felt a familiar possessive pang. Irial was hers . That hadnt changed, wouldnt change.

Except that it did.

When she left his world their world shed made it change. He still watched her, not in a predatory way, or even in an intrusive way, but shed see him around campus. While Irial watched, Niall respected her requests not to visit; instead, he sent Hounds to guard her. Occasionally Aislinns rowan-people or the Winter Queens lupine fey looked in on her too. Leslie was safer than shed ever been, guarded by the denizens of three faery courts, and pretending not to notice any of them.

That was an implicit understanding: she mostly pretended they werent there, and they pretended she wasnt ignoring their presence. Sometimes ignoring the fey made her feel a kinship with Aislinn. When Aislinn was mortal, shed had to pretend not to see them. They hadnt known she had the Sight. Leslie, however, didnt need to pretend.

Except for myselfand for him.

She smiled at Irial, letting the illusion slip for a momentand immediately regretted it. He lowered his book and leaned forward. The question in his expression made her heart ache. She didnt belong in his world, not even now that he was no longer the Dark King. Talking to him was dangerous. Being alone with him was dangerous. It was a line she couldnt crossnot and still retain her distance. If she were to be honest with herself, it was the other reason shed invited her study group this week. She could speak to them, say things she wanted him to know without admitting she was speaking to him.

Faery logic.

He stood.

She shook her head and turned away. There were moments when she failed, when she talked to the fey, but not to Irial.

Never to him.

Jill was beside him now, and he spoke to her. No doubt he said something charming but dismissive.

Leslie stared at the page, her notes blurring as she tried to look anywhere but at Irial. Resolutely, she read over the words in her notebook. School was the one thing that helped her focus; it was how she had kept it together when she lived in Huntsdale, and it was how she had continued to hold on the past few months. Shed rather hurt and keep trying than hide from her feelings. Irial had helped her see that.

Seeing anyone else near him hurt. Seeing him hurt. Not seeing him hurts more. That was the challenge, the dilemma she couldnt resolve: his nearness made her feel safe, made her feel loved and valued, but it reminded her of what she couldnt have. Two faeries, arguably the two most tempting faeries in the world, loved her, and she couldnt be with either of themnot without sacrificing too much. She couldnt be a good person and be in their world. Maybe if they were part of any other faery court or if she were a different sort of person, she could build a life with them, but the future shed have in the Dark Court wasnt a future that she could accept. Monsters dont become house pets, and she didnt want to become a monster.

WellJill plopped down in her seat againthat was interesting.

What? Leslies heart sped. She might have the Sight, but that didnt give her faery hearing or reflexes.

He saidand I quoteTell Leslie that I send my love or anything else she might need. Jill folded her arms over her chest, leaned back, and studied Leslies expression. Gorgeous guy, apparently loves you, and you

Drop it. Leslies calm faltered then. Her hand started shaking as she gathered up her notes. Seriously. Hesa part of my past. Hes why I moved here. To be away from him.

Michael put a hand on Leslies arm. Is he threatening

No. He isnt here to hurt me. Hehed protect me at his own risk. Our situation is justshe looked in Irials direction and caught his gazecomplicated. I needed space.

She didnt look back at her study group. No one spoke, and she couldnt think of anything else to say. The awkwardness of the situation was more than she wanted to deal with. How do I say that I love and am loved byDark Kings? Faeries? Monsters? There werent words to explainand the only one there who deserved her explanation already knew it.