Page 15 of Wooing the Wiccan (Elf Magic #1)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Jared

There’s a split second when he considers telling me I might have been drugged—I can see it in his face. Then he squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head.

I don’t know what upsets me more: The fuckery that’s been going on without me noticing, or the fact that he’s been lying to me all night and considered doing it again.

Has he been lying to me all along?

“What is this?” I whisper. I don’t know what else to say. What to do. The people surrounding us have all gone oddly silent, and they’re watching me. Did they all know? Oh, goddess—are they all…

What are they?

“We should go,” Raeulfr says quietly. “This isn’t the place to talk. I’ll tell you everything, but not here.”

As if to punctuate his words, the siren goes for the end of the second period. Around us, people start making their way up the stairs to go to the bathroom or visit concessions, and our odd little group that I didn’t even know was a group gets a few curious looks.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” It’s not like I’d be able to enjoy the third period—and the Glaives are going to win anyway. The Warhammers might be a bigger team, but they mostly suck.

A semi-hysterical laugh escapes me. I can’t believe I’m thinking about the quality of a hockey team right now.

“It’s going to be okay,” one of the guys from the row in front of us says earnestly, and I just gape at him. He doesn’t have horns—does that mean he’s a werewolf?

Goddess, is Raeulfr a werewolf?

“He’s right,” the woman on Raeulfr’s other side adds. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t asking for a mint earlier. “It’s a shock now, but you’ll see. Don’t worry.”

I don’t know what to say, but thankfully Raeulfr handles it. Which he should , since he’s the one who put me in this position to begin with.

“Thank you all so much for your help,” he’s saying, and I wonder if the god and goddess would understand if I kicked him. That’s not really doing harm, is it? “If you call the DEA offices tomorrow and give the receptionist your names, he’ll arrange tickets for you to the next game.”

“You work for the Drug Enforcement Administration ?” I blurt. Has he been drugging me after all? Is the government using drugs to turn people into werewolves and… whatever those horned people are?

Raeulfr sighs. “No.”

“Wrong DEA, honey,” the woman says, and my poor brain tries to think what else it could stand for.

“Sir?”

I look up toward the new voice. It belongs to a tall man with a serious face whose gaze is locked on Raeulfr.

“We’re going,” replies my… I don’t know what he is anymore, and the man nods, stepping back and blocking passersby so we have room to leave the row.

I lead the way, mostly because I have no idea what else to do, but it’s loud and chaotic in here, I’m surrounded by people I’m not even sure are people, and if I want answers—or even just to put this whole experience behind me and convince myself it was a crazy dream—I need to leave this place.

So I walk up the stairs and through the lounge, pushing through the crowd without my usual manners.

At one point someone shouts, “Hey!” but nothing comes of it.

I wonder if he just let it go or if Raeulfr intervened.

I wonder if Raeulfr and the other guy are even following me.

Maybe I’ve lost them, and now I’ll never get answers. Maybe he let me go.

I don’t know which pisses me off more.

When I finally step outside, I stop and take a deep breath. The cold night air stings my throat and makes my lungs ache, but in a good way. It reminds me that I’m real. That I’m awake. That whatever the fuck happened in there, the world is still the place I know it to be.

“You left your sweater,” Raeulfr says, coming up beside me with said sweater over his arm. He holds it out to me, and I stare at it. If he’s got that, then what am I?—

The fucking jersey.

I rip it over my head and throw it on the pavement as viciously as I can. It’s fabric, so it doesn’t have the impact I need. I want a crash , damn it. I stomp on it, hard, but even that doesn’t satisfy the anger in me.

I haven’t been this angry for so long. Not since I rebuilt my life.

And that makes me want to cry—the jersey makes me want to cry, because less than two hours ago, I was so happy.

I was making plans to get involved in a fucking “local” hockey league, because I thought it was important to Raeulfr.

That jersey stood for a new phase of my life where I was part of his life.

The people in that stadium? People I thought were just like me, hockey fans with regular lives who wanted to get involved with a sport they loved? I was going to join their community.

Now I don’t even know what they are. What he is.

Snatching the sweater from Raeulfr, I yank it on, then turn on him. “What are you?”

He glances around. There’s nobody nearby except the guy who called him Sir, standing five paces away and pretending not to listen. “It’s cold out here, Jared. Let’s go back to your house, and I’ll explain everything.”

“You think I’ll let you in my house?” I ask incredulously, and his whole body jerks like I’ve struck him. Guilt tries to rise, but I push it back down. I’m not sure how deep the lies run, but he has been lying to me, hiding things. I don’t know what to trust anymore.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” he rasps. “We… we can’t talk about this in public, though, and I thought you’d prefer to go to your house than mine.”

It’s a fresh stab at my battered sense of self. In all the time we’ve been together, he’s never invited me to his home, even when I hinted about it. That’s his right, of course, but it hurts that I’m suddenly welcome there now that my happiness is shattered.

“You got that right,” I manage. “I’m not going to your house. Am I even safe alone with you?”

He sucks in a breath, and this time guilt wins. I open my mouth to apologize?—

“Yeah, okay, we’re done with this part of the night,” the other guy says, striding forward.

“Mr. Veddy, my name is Eoin, and I’m the head of Raeulfr’s security team.

I understand that you’re pissed off and probably embarrassed right now, but if you want answers, you need to tell us where we can all go. Out here is not an option.”

The apology dies in my throat. “Fuck. You.” I turn and walk away.

A hissed conversation takes place behind me as I try to work out what to do. I got a rideshare here, figuring Raeulfr would be coming back to my place after. I need to find a car to take me home.

“Jared?” Footsteps chase after me, and I sigh. “Jared, please. I’ll tell you everything, but?—”

I turn around, then stumble back. I knew he was close, but I didn’t realize he was that close.

“Please,” he repeats, but it’s the wrecked expression on his face that convinces me. Whatever he’s guilty of, deliberately trying to hurt me isn’t it.

“My house,” I declare. “I’ll meet you there in half an hour.” That should give me time to find a car, get home, and prepare myself.

“We can drive you,” he begins, but I shake my head.

“I’m not ready to get in a car with you yet, and I’m definitely not getting in a car with him.” I nod past his shoulder to where the other guy—Eoin—is hovering a few feet back.

“How are you getting home, then?”

I glance around and spot the pickup zone. “Rideshare.”

Raeulfr winces. “At least let us wait with you until you’re in a car.”

That doesn’t seem unreasonable. I hate that he’s not being unreasonable. Hate that he’s showing concern for me. Hate that I’m so angry right now.

“Fine.”

We turn in that direction, and I pull out my phone and open the app as we walk silently over.

It’s too early for any cars to be waiting, too early even for the arena staff who manage the lines to be out here, so we stand in silence in the cold night, just the three of us, waiting the six minutes for my driver to arrive.

“He’s not welcome in my house, by the way,” I announce. Partly because it’s true, and partly because the need to cause trouble is riding me hard.

“He’s not that bad,” Raeulfr begins, but Eoin interrupts.

“That’s fine.” He stares me down. “I’ll just wait in the same place we’ve been waiting every time he’s visited.”

My skin crawls, and I slowly turn to glare at Raeulfr. “What?”

“I’m telling Dáithí about this,” he snaps at Eoin, then grimaces apologetically at me. “I have security. They… don’t like it when I’m far from them. I set boundaries, but they’ve still been close.”

There were people outside my house, watching my house, while Raeulfr and I were inside? While we were cooking together and watching TV and practicing magic? While we were having sex ?

“How close?” I practically shout the question, and Raeulfr rushes to appease me.

“Not that close. Boundaries. But they were there.”

I shudder, and then, just as my car pulls up, another thought strikes. “That woman at the bookstore on our second date,” I whisper.

Raeulfr’s face says it all.

“That was Niamh,” Eoin says helpfully, and suddenly do no harm seems like a stupid edict to live my life by. “She likes you more now that she’s seen your cat.”

Eyes sliding shut, Raeulfr slowly shakes his head.

“Is that a threat?” I demand, ready to throw away over a decade of peaceful practice to defend Margie.

Eoin looks confused. “No. I’m just saying?—”

“Is one of you Jared?”

We all swing around to look at the guy half out of the car in front of us, and I pull myself together.

“I am. Sorry. I’m ready.”

“Half an hour?” Raeulfr asks desperately, and I nod, not willing to risk speaking right now. Instead, I get into the car and close the door.

“You okay?” my driver questions, eyeing me in the rearview mirror, and I try to remember what his name is.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

He waits a beat, as if to see if I’m going to say anything else, then says, “Still going to the address in the app?”

“Yes, please.”

“’Kay. Traffic looks good, so we should be there in fifteen.”

“Thank you.” I make a mental note to tip him extra, and as the car pulls out of the pickup zone, I lean back against the seat, exhausted.

My mind is spinning, but I know one thing: If I want to hear the truth, the sniping has to stop… or at least be scaled back. I have to listen. I have to come up with a list of questions that need to be answered. And boy, do I have questions.

Too bad I’m scared of what the answers might be.

Which brings me to the big question. Do I actually want to hear the truth? I have a feeling that once I do, there’s no going back. Would it be easier to just lock the door and forget I ever met Raeulfr?

Or do I want to try to salvage what I thought we had between us?