23. Demon in Gentleman's Clothes

**Tyra**

My hands clutched his shirt, heart beating frantically where our chests were pressed against each other. "I want to stay downstairs."

"You don't get to stay downstairs if you're going to be nasty to Ember," Jett replied curtly, gaze ahead as he climbed the stairs.

Again, that flash of shame. But there was something else beneath it this time, something that tasted bitter on my dry tongue. "You like her," I said accusingly.

"She's a good person," he replied.

I glared at his faintly condescending tone. "And I'm not?"

He kicked open a door, stepped inside and kicked it back closed. It looked like the same room I'd woken up in but I wasn't completely certain. I hadn't gotten the chance to give it a close look- too busy screaming in pain and all. Now that I was in my right mind again I could see that the place was classy but comfy, there was even a sitting area in the middle of the room- although my eyes couldn't help but wander over to the bed a few feet away.

"You haven't been acting like you're a good person," Jett said, the leather on the seat creaking as he settled us onto one of the sofas.

It took me a moment to remember that he was responding to my question, I'd been absorbed by the pull of his eyes again. They were beautiful in an intense way and it'd be a shame not to admire them- no matter how closed off they appeared. The rest of his face was handsome in a classical way, but his good looks were given a dark edge by the jagged claw mark on the right side of his face and the silver piercings on his nose, lips and ears sent a fierce message of warning that matched the look in his eyes. He didn't seem like a man you'd willingly mess with. I doubted even the sneaky lower fae who went after anyone with money or power would try approaching him with their sneaky bargains.

And I was in his arms.

"Do they treat you right?" I asked, tracing his scar with a finger. "Despite the fact that you're a halfling?"

He ran his hands up and down my sides, sending an involuntary shiver up my spine. "The fae treated you horribly because of what you are."

It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway, letting my hand fall back into my lap. "Unfortunately racism isn't just a human thing."

"You were afraid Ember would be the same," he said.

I nodded.

His hand stilled on my lower back and I felt the touch of his hand like a brand, the warmth of it spreading to my tense muscles and whispering for me to melt against him. I clenched my teeth against the attraction. He's been perfectly calm since we met and if that meant he wasn't as affected by me then there was no way in hell I was revealing my own weakness towards him.

"They're not like that," Jett said, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Most of the people in our pack aren't that way. If they were, I wouldn't be here."

That made perfect sense. And it also made me a perfect jerk for the way I'd treated Ember.

Jett saw the regret on my face. "You can make it up to her by apologizing and getting better."

I gestured between us. "How long do you think this will last?"

"If we slept together it would be gone quicker."

"The only problem with that plan is I'm not sleepy," I said, stretching out my legs on the couch.

"My plan had nothing to do with sleep," he said dryly.

Oh snap. I couldn't stop my mouth from twisting into a grin. He'd finally admitted that I wasn't alone in my attraction and it made me giddy with happiness- until I remembered that I wasn't supposed to be giddy. I had no intention of staying in this stinky human world and the stupidest thing I could do was let myself get tangled up with a human who was supposedly my soul mate. Someone who lived in the same stinky human world I hated so much and wouldn't hesitate to tie me to it if I gave him a reason to. "No thanks."

Jett canted his head, rested his chin on his palm. It brought our faces closer and I could see the sudden faint glow of his eyes, a faint red in one eye and yellow in the other. It also provided me with a close look at the moment when his expression shifted, the wall falling and revealing a desire that would've made my knees weak if I'd been standing. "You don't want to?" he asked quietly.

The question caught me off guard. He was asking it after making himself vulnerable, giving me a chance to choose despite the risk of rejection. Another situation I wasn't familiar with, the few wealthy fae men I'd encountered- Prince Thorne included- always assumed a lowly performer, a freak show and an outsider like myself should be honored to receive any sort of attention from them. Their hands roamed without permission, demanding ownership of the body they thought could be bought by their shiny coins. But Jett wasn't demanding I give myself over to him, he was offering himself to me. Meanwhile his hands stayed on my back, unmoving while he waited heatedly- but patiently- for my reply.

And why the hell should I refuse? I could be wrong about him stopping me from moving back to Faerie when the time came, a man who was polite enough to ask if I wanted to sleep with him couldn't do something as rude as forcing me to live where I didn't want to stay. There was no reason to restrain myself. No reason at all.

"I want to," I said, gripping the front of his shirt and scooting closer to him. I tilted my head up to his, letting him see the entirety of the feelings I've been hiding. "Let's do it."

He leaned back, the wall shooting back up. "No."

My hands dropped. "What?"

He shook his head once, as firm as his answer. "No."

I took back my words about him being polite, he was just a demon in gentleman's clothes. "Why the hell not?" I demanded.

"You can have me when you decide to give up your addiction for good," he replied, patting me on the head. "Until then you can look but you can't touch."

Unbelievable! "I'm not addicted," I lied.

"Admitting you have a problem is the first step in finding a solution, looks like you have a long way to go."

I gawked at him, but he was dead serious. He was refusing me, refusing the body so many others had coveted and spent millions for the chance to watch. "Do you think sleeping with you is such an honor I'd do anything for it?"

"I'd do it if our roles were reversed," Jett said calmly. "I'd do anything."

That took the fight out of me.

"I used to be an addict too," he went on. "I know how painful it is."

Him? An addict? It was hard to envision this strong, determined man reduced to that kind of state.

"Why were you an addict?" I asked.

"A very stupid person thought it would be easier to control me if I relied on them for something only they could give me."

My brows lifted. That description sounded identical to my almost-arrangement with Thorne. Maybe that's why his threat had been especially violent…

I crossed my legs at the ankles, eyes riveted on him. On the scary, sexy man who I suddenly wanted to know more about. "Who was this stupid person who thought he could control the big bad wolf?"

He smiled faintly. "Big bad wolf?"

"Were you a hapless puppy then?"

Still smiling, "No."

I nodded. "So who was the stupid person who tried controlling the big bad wolf?"

"My father."

That was sick. I remembered the betrayal on Dad's face when he'd found out what I was doing, he was probably blaming himself this very second for my own failings. How could a parent willingly push their kid into such a dark place?

"Why did he do it?" I asked.

Jett let go of my back, unfurling the hands I hadn't known I'd been clenching. "I'll answer all your questions when you admit you have a problem and promise me you'll overcome it."

Promise me you'll overcome it, not promise to try and get better. Spoken like a true hard-ass. He wanted me in 100%, wanted me to be as strong as him because he thought we were similar. But he'd just admitted that he hadn't started his addiction on his own, how would someone like that understand the reason for my own constant plunge into darkness? Because no matter how much love and attention my parents gave me I still lived with the constant- irrational- fear that they'd eventually grow tired of me and cast me aside like my previous foster parents. I was already tiring them out: they were always worried some crazy fae would set their sights on me and wouldn't be discouraged by the threat of my dad's fists. They were also always making threats and examples out of those who stepped out of line, and of course there was no forgetting the job I'd cost them. The nobleman had made sure to blacklist us after the incident, my parents had been unable to find work anywhere until I started dancing for a living.

It's why I was able to get away with eating so much fruit for so long despite the toll it took on my body. It was also how I'd gotten away with those spurts of highs, when I could dance without a care in the world, for once feeling untouchable, more beautiful than the beautiful fae. During those times I was truly happy and nothing else could give me that feeling except the fruit.

It was cowardly and irresponsible, destructive and would end up killing me someday but I couldn't stop.

I shook my head. I couldn't let him see how weak I truly was, soul mate or not he'd drop me like a hot potato and run for the hills if he found out.

"Tyra?"

I folded my arms over my chest, leaned into him and closed my eyes. "I'm going to sleep, don't talk to me anymore."

He wrapped his arms around me, rested his chin atop my head. "I'll wait however long you want."

The perfect line. Spoken like a true soul mate, the only problem was the imperfect girl in his arms.