deep, even breath. My face felt crusty. That was gross, maybe even a little bit pathetic. Not that crying made you weak or pitiful. Once upon a time, I used to think that, and then I grew up.
But I had gotten the tears out. Even though my chest felt like I’d driven a stake through it and all I wanted to do was plant my face in the pillow, I couldn’t.
I was hurt. I was grieving Val. I was heartbroken, but I couldn’t wallow in any of it.
There was too much to do, and I didn’t know how much time I’d have. At any moment, the prince—Drake—could reappear, and while I was convinced of my badass ninja skills, I knew I wouldn’t win a battle against him. Not yet at least, especially with how easily he . . . he had taken care of Val last night. I hadn’t even seen him move. If he came to take me, I’d be gone.
And who knew if I would be turned over to the Order or the Elite by Ren? They could come for me at any second, even if . . . even if Ren didn’t turn me in. This Kyle guy could figure it out all on his own, because he knew the halfling hadn’t been Val. So there wasn’t time to waste.
I needed to check in with Brighton to see if she had discovered anything about the supposed communities of good fae. I needed to fill out a stupid report even though going to the headquarters felt like I’d be walking into the lion’s den with meat hanging around my neck. Paying a visit to Jerome was also on the list.
I also needed to go withdraw from classes.
Time to get moving.
With a low groan, I rolled over onto my side and swung my legs off the bed. My thoughts started to drift toward Ren as I undressed the rest of the way, but I pulled the brakes on that car crash of a thought process. Then Val’s face popped into my head, and I had to hold my breath until I felt dizzy. Nope. Nope. A thousand nopes. I was not going to spend a single second thinking about him, Val, or how I felt when I had work to do. Later, when I had time, I’d let myself have those moments again, but until then, I had to keep my shit together.
After showering, I started to walk out to the kitchen in my old, tattered robe, but stopped at the bedroom door. The thing was practically see-through in certain areas, and Tink wasn’t this asexual little brownie anymore.
My cheeks heated as I recalled every time he’d gotten an eyeful. No need to repeat that. Pivoting around, I changed into a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved thermal.
Hair half dried, I twisted it up in a knot and secured it as I walked into the kitchen. Tink was standing by the sink, peering down into it. He didn’t look up as I walked to the fridge. “You came home alone last night,” he said.
I ignored the question as I opened the fridge door and grabbed a Coke.
“And he’s not here now,” Tink continued. I turned around and realized he had a little stick-looking thing in his hand with a fine thread dangling off the end of it, disappearing into the sink. “Not that I’m complaining. I needed a break from him.”
I popped the tab off the Coke and took a drink. Tink had filled the sink up with water. I had no idea what he—
Tink cocked his arm back and moved the stick—no, it was a pole—forward. My eyes widened.
I shot forward, almost dropping the soda. “What the fuck? Tink! Are you fishing in my sink?”
He looked up. “Yeah,” he said, drawing the word out.
Sitting the Coke on the counter, I slowly approached the sink. “If there are fish in my sink, I swear to God, I’m flushing you down a toilet.”
Tink shot me a bored look. “As if I’d fit down a toilet.”
“Tink!”
He sighed. “Relax. They’re not real fish.” Dropping to his knees, he reached into the water and pulled out a small, red plastic fish. “I tried to order real ones from Amazon, but alas, they do not sell them.”
I fell back against the counter, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank God for the small things in life.
“So where is Renny Tin Tin?”
Knowing that Tink wasn’t going to drop it until I answered the question, I decided to go with the partial truth since I wasn’t exactly feeling ready to discuss what had truly happened. “We had a fight yesterday.”
“Really?” He sounded way too happy about this as he dropped his fishing pole into the water.
I nodded as I picked up my Coke and took a huge drink that burned my throat. “I don’t think he’ll be around for a while.”
“That big of a fight?” Tink cocked his head to the side. “You . . . you didn’t tell him, did you? About what you are?”
There wasn’t a moment where I considered telling him that I had, because there was no point in freaking him out. “I didn’t tell him.”
He studied me for a moment. “Then why did you fight?”
“It’s not something I really want to talk about.” I finished off the Coke and dumped the can in the trash. I looked over at where he stood as something occurred to me. “Why are you this size now?”
“Why not?” he said, hopping along the edge of the counter.
“Because I know you’re not really this size,” I pointed out. “So why are you staying small?”
He shrugged. No answer.
As I watched him hop back along the counter, going in the opposite direction, I thought of something else. “What would you do if I died?”
He stopped, one leg raised. His head turned slowly in my direction. “Why would you even be thinking about that?”
It was my turn to shrug. “I’ve thought about it before, but just . . . you know, with everything going on, there’s a chance. There’s always been a chance, Tink. What would you do?”
Tink opened his mouth and then closed it. His wings drooped. “I don’t know what I’d do,” he said. “I guess I’d have to go find someone else who has Amazon Prime.”
“Nice,” I said, shaking my head. “Seriously. You’d have to leave here eventually, you know? Take on your . . . um, bigger form. Granted, you won’t necessarily blend in that way, but you wouldn’t be the size of a doll with wings.”
Tink was surprisingly serious when he answered, “I know what I’d have to do, Ivy. You don’t need to worry about me.”
A weird sense of relief hit me, and I nodded. I started toward the hall and then stopped again. I turned back to him. “Do you want fish? Like, as a pet? Not to fish for in my sink.”
His eyes widened into little saucers. “You’d get me some if I said yes?”
“Yeah,” I replied, deciding that I would. “I can start you off small. Like with a beta or a goldfish—”
“Can I have a ferret?” he interrupted.
I blinked. “What? No. No ferret.”
Tink pouted as he flew over to the table by the window. “What about a cat? Sometimes I see cats out in the courtyard. I watch videos of them on the YouTube. They seem to be . . . sort of mean, and I kind of like that about them.”
“Tink, a cat would probably eat you if you stay that size.” I paused. “And it would definitely tear one of your wings.”
“Nah.” He planted his hands on his hips. “I think a cat would love me, especially if you get me a kitten and I raise it.”
“Obviously you’ve never been around a cat,” I said dryly. “It doesn’t matter if you’ve raised it—the cat will try to kill you at some point.”
His brows knitted together. “I refuse to believe that.”
I sighed. “How about a tortoise?”
He rolled his eyes. “What would I do with a tortoise?”
“I don’t know.” I threw my hands up. “What would you do with a cat or ferret?”
“Pet it. Hug it. You can’t do that with a damn tortoise.”
“I think you can pet it,” I reasoned.
He rose into the air. “I want something fluffy.”
I shook my head and turned around. “You know, forget I said anything about this—”
“Nope. Not ever going to forget.” He followed after me as I walked down the hall. “I will never forget this. Ever.”
I rolled my eyes as I picked
up my purse and then went into the bedroom, dropping my phone into my bag and then weaponing up. “Look, if you had a cat, you’d have to take care of it.”