Ren brushed past me, walking into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No.” I followed, keeping my arms at my sides. “What did you do with Henry?”
“You probably don’t want to know.” He picked up his cup of coffee and took a drink. “No one is going to find him, though.”
My gaze flitted to his and then I looked away, shaken by his blasé attitude. “Who are you?” I blurted out.
Ren slowly lowered the cup. “Excuse me?”
“You’re freaking me out a little. Okay, a lot,” I admitted, placing my hands on the kitchen island. “You straight-up murdered Henry and you’re acting like today is just any normal Wednesday.”
“I did not straight-up murder someone. He was going to hurt you. So will Kyle. I cannot allow that to happen.” He stepped back, crossing his arms. “I am protecting you.”
I stared at him. “I get that you were protecting me, but Henry didn’t even try anything. I wasn’t in immediate danger.”
“You would’ve been. You still are,” he reasoned. “And if you’re wondering if I will do the same to Kyle, the answer is yes.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Why are you so surprised? They will kill you, Ivy. Just because they haven’t tried anything yet doesn’t mean they won’t once they realize they can’t easily use you to trap the prince.”
He had a point, but it was the method in which he had carried it out. And it was more than that, too. This wasn’t like Ren. Not at all. Frustrated, I reached across the counter and picked up his coffee mug. “May I?”
“Have at it.” He gestured with one arm.
I took a drink and immediately recoiled at the bitter taste. “Whoa.” I placed the coffee cup down as I stuck out my tongue. “Holy crap, that is some strong, black coffee.”
“It’s the way I like it,” he stated.
My brows furrowed together. “No, it’s not.”
Ren cocked his head to the side.
“You like sugar in your coffee, like me. Actually, you usually put, like, six or more packets of sugar in your coffee. You don’t drink it black.”
His lips parted. “I like it both ways.”
“No one likes coffee both ways.” Okay, maybe someone out in the world enjoyed coffee both ways, but I’d never met one in real life.
He raised one shoulder. “It’s just coffee.”
It wasn’t just coffee. Something occurred to me then. He’d thrown away the beignets this morning, claiming they tasted bad. I was eating out of the same batch, and mine were fine. Once Ren had been introduced to beignets, he loved them like all people with good taste in fried pastries did. It’s like he’d developed a sudden allergy to sugar. And what he’d done to Henry? That wasn’t like Ren either. Not the Ren who enjoyed sugar in his coffee and on his pastries, but the Ren who viewed all human life as something precious.
A biting chill slammed into my chest as I took a step back. Deep in my heart of hearts, I already knew. I knew, and I was seriously going to be sick. “What was I studying in college?”
Ren blinked those cool green eyes at me. “What?”
My heart started pounding in my chest. “What was I studying at Loyola?”
He laughed quietly under his breath. “Why are you asking that, Ivy? Are you feeling well?”
No. I was not feeling well at all. “Just answer the question, Ren.”
The half-smile disappeared, and the iciness spread in my chest. “What did you call me the first time we met?”
A muscle flexed along Ren’s jaw as he slowly unfurled his arms. He didn’t answer, because I knew he couldn’t. There was no way, because this . . . this wasn’t Ren.
Chapter Twenty
Heart thundering in my chest, I placed my right hand on my hip, just below where the iron dagger was secured. His gaze flicked to my hand and back up to my eyes. He didn’t miss the movement.
Of course not.
Horror rose swiftly as full realization kicked in. This . . . this thing standing in front of me wasn’t Ren. It hadn’t been him in Jackson Square. It hadn’t been Ren kissing and touching me on that couch. My hand shook with revulsion. It looked like him, but it wasn’t him, and that meant the real Ren . . .
Oh God.
Pain lanced my chest. “Where is Ren?”
The thing in front of me raised its brows. “What are you talking about? I’m right in front of you.”
“You aren’t him.” I slipped my hand under my shirt and wrapped my fingers around the handle of the dagger.
“Okay.” It lifted its hands. “I do not know what’s going on in your head, but we can work this out together.”
Oh my God, even its speech patterns were different. This thing spoke too formally. How had I not noticed that until now? I unhooked the dagger and braced myself. “Where is the real Ren?”
It stepped out from behind the island, and I tensed. “Ivy—”
“Don’t say my name,” I ordered, fingers tightening around the dagger. Oh God, how long had it not been Ren? My stomach twisted like a cold knife had been thrust into it. No. It had to have been him the evening the knight showed up. We made love. I would’ve known if it was him, and I couldn’t focus on that right now. “Tell me where Ren is, or I am seriously going to make this hurt for you before I kill you, whatever you are.”
The only creature this thing could be was a changeling, but as far as we knew, none of them had come through the gates since the last time they’d been closed. We’d never caught one before, and according to lore, for a changeling to be in our world, the human they’d taken over was typically in the Otherworld. And that wasn’t possible. The gates were closed.