My vision begins to clear, so I blink rapidly until Sullivan comes into view. “When did you get here?” I manage, though my voice is far too hoarse.
“A few hours ago. Your friend left.” He sets the cloth down and takes a seat in a chair beside my bed.
“Frien—Wally,” I recall. “He said I was found outside. In the parking lot.”
“Can’t exactly have anyone spotting me with you. I have a reputation to protect.” He winks, but the humor is wrong—it doesn’t match his eyes.
“What is it?” I’ve been given enough bad news that I can see he’s holding back.
He takes a step back. “How long have you known him? Wally.”
My brows furrow in confusion. What the hell does Wally have to do with anything?
“A little while. He was the doorman at my apartment building. Found me in a puddle of my own blood a time or two. Why?”
“Curiosity,” he says, though his answering smile is forced.
Energy waning, I close my eyes again, but the moment I do, Rafferty’s death scene plays out once more. A vice around my heart tightens, and I open my eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears.
“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.
“I don’t remember.”
“Listen, Ember, if we’re going to help you, I need honesty.”
“Help me? I thought you were here for my soul?”
Sullivan shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure why I was drawn to you, but I’m determined to find out.” He lifts his feet to the side of my bed and folds them at the ankles. “Now, tell me about what happened to you. Why were you with a fae who was trying to rape you?”
Just jumping right in then.
“After our date, I got sick. When I went out for fresh air, I ended up stumbling into some sort of portal. I was drawn to it, pulled toward it without understanding where I was going. When I arrived, people were dying. There’s a war.”
“Yes. I know that.”
I shake my head. “Of course you do. Probably something that went out in Supernatural News Weekly.”
He snorts. “Shelving that epic idea for a newspaper, I want to understand how you ended up in Faerie and then back here in the clutches of a high-ranking officer.”
“As it turns out, you really missed out. Apparently, I have a magical vagina.”
Sullivan doesn’t speak.
And when I turn to look at him, I cannot help but laugh. Mouth open, he’s staring at me like I just grew a second head. “A magical vagina? Seriously?”
Chuckling, I continue, “It seems they believe I’m part of some kind of prophecy. They believe I am going to make the one true king.”
“With your magic vagina.”
I peer at him with a raised brow. “You are enjoying saying that, aren’t you?”
“Who wouldn’t? I may be a reaper, but I am a man. And the idea of a magical vagina? I find it fascinating.” The smile he flashes me is genuine and handsome, though it doesn’t warm my blood. Not like Rafferty.
“The current king, Taranus, he—” I close my eyes against the onslaught of horrible memories. Exhausted as I am, recalling the death and mutilation I witnessed at his hand takes its toll on me. “He imprisoned me and forced me into a bonding ceremony. Before it could be completed, though, Rafferty saved me.”
“Rafferty? As in the leader of the Rebellion?” Sullivan drops his legs back to the ground and sits up to get closer.
An involuntary smile plays at my lips. “Yes. A wonderful, tortured man,” I reply. “Before the marriage, Taranus—” I swallow hard. “Inspected me. As I was leaving, I relieved Conary—the man you saved me from—of the key to Rafferty’s cell before giving it to a maid so she could free him.”