Home > Torn (A Wicked Saga #2)(83)

Torn (A Wicked Saga #2)(83)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

“I’m going to punch you,” Ren cut in. “And it will hurt.”

Tink was already out of the car when I spoke to Faye. “I won’t say anything. Tink’s telling the truth. I never told anyone about him until Ren . . . um, accidentally discovered him.”

Another second passed and then she nodded. “Okay.”

Tink opened my door from the outside as I heard Dane whisper to Kalen, “Naked?” I was glad Ren was out of the SUV.

I climbed out, wincing as my feet hit the ground. The pain registered now, and it sucked. Each step I took felt like I was walking on fire.

Dane walked over to the gate while Kalen got into the driver’s seat of the SUV. He took off, going somewhere, as Dane placed his hand on the building. The metal shook and began to slide to the side.

“The glamour will fade in a few seconds,” Ren said, coming to stand beside me. “Once you’re inside, you’ll see what’s really here.”

Having no idea what to expect, I waited until Dane had created an opening large enough for us to walk through. He went in first, followed by Tink, who stopped just inside, waiting for me.

“Can you walk?” Ren asked.

I really didn’t want to, but I nodded. I got my legs moving, feeling Ren right behind me. Faye was the last to come in, closing the metal wall behind us. At first, I just saw murky darkness—possibly a scrap yard, but then the air shimmered like a thousand fireflies had taken flight. A veil of dizzying sparks suddenly dropped, revealing what truly existed.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

We were in a beautiful courtyard—a garden straight out of a fairytale. Tall trees rose up to the night sky. Paper lanterns hung from the limbs, illuminating the way. There were vines and plants everywhere, virtually untouched by the cold. It did seem warmer here, at least by ten or so degrees. The place carried a magical, almost surreal feeling.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Ren said, his voice low. “When I first saw it, I couldn’t believe my eyes. That this has been here the whole time.” He looked down at me. “What Merle wrote in her books was true, Ivy. They’ve been here a long time, and this place—places hidden like this—are everywhere.”

“You make it sound so creepy,” Faye said. “We aren’t really everywhere. I mean, we’re hidden in a lot of places, but we do it because of safety.”

“That’s just Ren, being all ominous.” Tink walked ahead, his arms swinging at his sides. “He’s not really what you’d call a people person. I think he’s socially awkward. Or maybe just intellectually stunted.”

Ren sighed and appeared to be counting numbers under his breath.

Wrapping my arms around my waist, I followed them down the grassy pathway toward a pavilion that butted up to the back of a building that was—wow—no longer an abandoned factory.

Nothing was dilapidated. There were no missing bricks or busted windows. One whole section was nothing but a glass wall. A set of large French doors were open, and I could see that the insides were brightly lit.

Tink was inside by the time I crossed the pavilion, walking past numerous thick-cushioned, comfy-looking chairs. Warm air heavy with the scent of coffee and vanilla tickled my nose as I stepped into what only could be described as something similar to a hotel lobby.

Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and the building had to be bigger than it appeared outside, because the ceiling alone was two stories high. Chairs were everywhere, some spaced around fireplaces, others in front of large TVs that were currently turned off.

Further in, I saw that there was an honest to goodness coffee shop. My mouth was probably hanging open.

“You hanging in there?” Ren asked quietly. He was by my side. Had been the whole way in here. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up now, and I saw the tattoo on his arm.

Drake had the same tattoo when he was pretending to be Ren, but for some reason it looked different now. More real. More Ren.

“Ivy?”

Realizing he’d been waiting for me to answer, I forced a nod even though I really wasn’t okay. This was a lot to process. Everything was a lot to process. I felt like I had fallen down a rabbit hole, and a cat was going to appear out of nowhere and start talking to me like I was on some kind of acid trip.

“What is . . . what is this place?” I asked, hearing how shaky my voice was.

Faye faced me, not a strand of her long silvery hair out of place. “It’s a safe haven of sorts, but on any given day, there are about a hundred fae who live here.”

My lips parted on a sharp inhale as my arms fell to my sides. “A hundred fae . . . ?”

“We can house more. We have a store down at the end of that hall.” She gestured to my left, pointing to somewhere beyond the coffee shop. “And we have a cafeteria.”

I started to ask if it served humans or food, but luckily and wisely stopped the dumb, needlessly smartass comment. I wanted to ask, though.

“Ivy needs to shower and rest.” Tink grabbed my hand suddenly. “What room can she stay in? I think she would like the one that overlooks the garden. And it’s not super far up, only on the eighth floor.”

There were how many floors? Then again, this place could house over a hundred fae. Holy fae overload, this place was under some powerful-ass glamour.

Faye’s brow furrowed while she thought about it. “The garden room is fine.”

“Okay.” Tink started dragging me to my right. “We’ll head up. See you guys later.”

I looked over my shoulder at Ren. He was standing next to Faye, his arms crossed and jaw hard, but the look etched onto his face, in his bright green eyes, was a wealth of sadness that was hard to look upon. With a knot in my throat, I turned away and let Tink lead me to the elevators.

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