Wicked(57)

Okay. It kind of felt like I was prepping for a date. It really did because I remembered going through these motions when I knew Shaun was coming over. The all too familiar pang in my chest throbbed, though a bit more faintly this time.

Sighing, I dropped my arms. My blue eyes looked way too big for my face at the moment, my mouth wider and fuller with the red lipstick.

This was not a date.

I left the bathroom, and Tink let out a low whistle. "If you were a foot tall, I'd be all over you."

Giggling at the absurdity of that statement, I gave him a very half-assed curtsy. "So I don't look like I'm going to end up with an STD later?"

"You still kind of do, but one that goes away with treatment. Not the gift that keeps on giving kind of STD," he clarified.

"Gee, thanks."

Tink flew off the dresser and followed me into the kitchen. "Are you sure this is smart?"

No. Heading into the club was wildly dangerous. "I'll be okay."

"If there are ancients there, Ivy . . ." Tink landed on the counter and stared up at me earnestly. "You shouldn't be near them."

Confiding in Tink about our plans to infiltrate the club hadn't been an easy decision, but he hated the fae just as much as I did. Still, being that he was a creature from the Otherworld, there was always that small fear he wasn't what he appeared to be.

"We have to get in there, Tink. It's the best chance we have of finding out what they're up to." I walked around the counter and grabbed the soda I'd been nursing.

Tink cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. "I do not like this Ren."

I arched a brow at him. "You've only seen him once."

"There are a lot of people I've never seen that I don't like," he pointed out, storming down the length of the counter. "He's just one of many."

"Tink." I sighed.

"Whatever. I think you should just get some action from him and kick his ass to the curb."

My mouth dropped open. "Okay. That is the most bizarre string of advice I have ever heard. You don't like him, but you think I should have sex with him and then get rid of him? And obviously I can't because he's a member of the Order." That was the one thing I didn't tell Tink—what Ren truly was. "You make no sense."

"I make perfect sense. In my world, you don't even have to like another to have sex with them. It's all about the natural urges to get it on and . . ."

As Tink ranted on about the peculiars of his species' particular mating preferences, I picked up the sugar canister and dumped a small pile of sugar on the counter.

"You just need to let those animalistic—holy brownie balls!" Tink dropped to his knees in front of the pile of sugar. He started moving the tiny granules to another pile, counting softly. "One, two, three, four, five, six . . ." Pausing, he glanced up with a frown. "Where did you learn that?"

I shrugged as I bit down on my lower lip. "Saw it on an episode of Supernatural."

Tink gaped at me.

"What?" I giggled, gesturing at the two piles of sugar on the counter. "I didn't think it would actually work."

"I've been fooled by a Winchester wannabe." He clasped his hands over his chest and swayed before toppling over onto his side. "There is no way to save face. I shall off myself now."

Laughing at the sight of him, I leaned over and poked his leg. He threw up an arm, flipping me off, and then he sat up, starting to count all over again. "I hate you," he muttered. "Look at me. I'm like a crack fiend. I just need to know how many are here. There could be hundreds, or maybe even thousands. I have to know the exact—"

The doorbell rang, and my stomach jolted unsteadily as I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was a little past nine, so it had to be Ren. My gaze shot to the hallway and then to where Tink was meticulously counting sugar. "You need to go to your room."

He looked up, his eyes wide. "But—"

"Forget about the sugar. Ren is here and he can't see you."

Tink scowled. "I'm not afraid of him."

"I didn't say you were afraid of him." Exasperated, I placed my hands on my hips. "You know he can't see you."

The knock came again, and I grabbed Tink by the waist. "Hey!" he shouted, gripping my fingers with his hand. "Careful, Godzilla-sized woman. You're squishing my insides."

"I'm not going to squish your insides, and stop beating my hand with your damn wings. It feels weird." Carrying him around the counter, I headed toward his bedroom as he glared at me. "Stay in there."

His eyes narrowed. "You don't own me."

I rolled my eyes. "Behave, Tink." Opening the door, I tossed him inside. His wings spread and arced as he spun around and gripped the edge of the door. "Tink," I seethed. "Get in there."