《Grave Secret (Secret McQueen #5)》


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    Chapter One


    They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.


    I don¡¯t know if the fool¡¯s errand I was on counted as good intentions, but I was pretty sure there was a chance it might take me straight to hell. Handbasket included.


    It had been almost six months since Holden had made me promise I¡¯d spend the night with him. Six months for me to pretend I¡¯d never sworn to it and to ignore the reason for his request. Half a year for him to prod and tease and constantly remind me he was still there.


    That he was still waiting.


    He wanted a night to prove there was more between us than just friendship or a wildly unprofessional work relationship. Neither of us knew what that was, but he was bound and determined to find out.


    I, on the other hand, wanted to keep disregarding the chemistry because I didn¡¯t think there was room in my life for another man. Not with two werewolf soul mates. My love life had been complicated enough without throwing a vampire into the mix.


    That was then.


    Now I was a werewolf queen, but I no longer had any soul mates. One had stood me up at the altar on our wedding day, and the other couldn¡¯t bear to look at me anymore.


    Lucas publicly abandoning me had hurt like hell. Desmond looking at me like I¡¯d betrayed him¡­that ripped my heart to shreds in a way I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever be able to heal. I¡¯d always known I loved Desmond more than Lucas, but since Lucas was a werewolf king, he claimed to need me more. And being the sucker I was, I believed him.


    He¡¯d needed me when it was convenient.


    Then I stopped being convenient, and he chose to fight over territory instead of being there for me when I needed him.


    I was out two wolves and standing in the open-concept loft of a vampire who¡¯d never been shy about letting it be known he wanted to be with me.


    And I was lost.


    Holden stared at me, and I took a good look at him for the first time since I¡¯d awkwardly barged into his apartment. He wore perfectly tailored jeans and a white dress shirt with all the buttons undone, exposing a sculpted plane of pale, muscular abdomen.


    I swallowed hard, and it didn¡¯t escape my attention that his gaze drifted to my throat. He had a hard time hiding the fact he found my pulse appealing. I wondered¡ªnow that I was here¡ªif he was planning to bite me the same way he had in countless dreams.


    ¡°I¡­¡± My voice trailed off as I tore my focus away from him and let myself take in the room. I hadn¡¯t been to Holden¡¯s apartment for a long time, and I was often impressed by the stark, minimalistic cleanliness of the place.


    Hardwood covered the floors, and against the far wall was a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. I¡¯d never asked what he covered them with during the day, or if he left them bare and hid from the light behind the Japanese paper-screen walls at the back of the apartment.


    ¡°Secret.¡± My name sounded different than it ever had before, at least from his lips. There was no exasperation, no teasing or sarcasm. The way he said it made the small hairs on my arms rise.


    It proved to be harder not to look at him directly because my wandering gaze found the mostly nude Mapplethorpe portrait of Holden on the far wall, female hands strategically placed to hide the goods. I felt my cheeks flush, and when I turned away from it, he was still there, in person, more attractive than any portrait.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing here,¡± I confessed.


    He took a step closer, and the hunter¡¯s instinct in me told me to back away, but I didn¡¯t listen.


    ¡°Sure you do.¡±


    Shaking my head, I added, ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    ¡°But you are.¡± The obvious having been stated, Holden took the final step to close the space between us. A moment earlier I¡¯d been sure there were miles of floor to keep him at a nice, safe distance. Now his hands were tentatively reaching for mine, and when his fingers twined with my own, I let out a shuddery breath I hadn¡¯t known I was holding.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I whispered.


    His grip tightened, and he pulled me towards him so my body was up against his. I didn¡¯t usually run hot, and Holden was room temperature on a good day, yet somehow my skin was burning up the closer I got to him.


    ¡°What do you need?¡± he asked.


    What did I need? What kind of question was that? I tugged my fingers free of his, and my focus locked on the pearl-colored buttons of his shirt. He might not be able to enthrall me with his gaze, but I still couldn¡¯t look at him. I played with one of the buttons, rolling it between my thumb and index finger.


    I could think of a dozen things I needed, none of which Holden could give to me. But I¡¯d been drawn to him because I knew, deep down, that I might never have the things I once did. I¡¯d made a mistake, agreeing to marry Lucas, and I was paying the price for it.


    And if Desmond really was gone¡ªwhich I was starting to believe he was¡ªI needed to forget what it meant to love him. Which would be impossible. So the next best thing would be to feel something else.


    Anything else.


    ¡°I need a distraction,¡± I said.


    Holden placed his hand under my chin and gently lifted my face so I was looking at him. ¡°A distraction?¡± The smirk playing on his lips did funny, wobbly things to my insides. He was almost painfully beautiful this close up. ¡°That wasn¡¯t our deal.¡±


    ¡°You said I had to spend a night with you. Here I am.¡±


    He trailed strong fingers over my cheek and raked them through my hair, tangling himself in my curls. ¡°Should I be grateful?¡±


    The small hairs on my arms and the back of my neck bristled. The way he spoke was brusque and slightly predatory. He wasn¡¯t exactly angry, but there was a new charge in the air that had little to do with seduction.


    ¡°You wanted this.¡±


    ¡°I wanted you. I made no secret of that¡­no pun intended.¡± Holden¡¯s eyes were dark and held a hungry gleam. But hungry for what, I wasn¡¯t sure.


    ¡°If you wanted me, here I am.¡±


    ¡°I want Secret McQueen, not some sniffling, mopey, pathetic schoolgirl who can barely get out of bed because she¡¯s sad.¡± The last word was heavy with insult.


    My stomach clenched. ¡°What did you just say to me?¡±


    ¡°I said I don¡¯t want you like this.¡± His grip on my hair tightened, and he jerked my face close to his, close enough our noses touched.


    I¡¯d come here expecting to give myself to him, but now that he had me locked in his grip and was looking at me like a victim, I was having a huge change of heart.


    ¡°Let me go,¡± I demanded.


    ¡°You¡¯re the big, bad vampire hunter,¡± he said, his gaze narrowing. ¡°Why don¡¯t you make me?¡±


    Chapter Two


    Bracing both of my palms against his chest, I tried to push Holden off me, but he wouldn¡¯t budge. Moments like this functioned as a stark and frightening reminder that full-blooded vampires were stronger than I was. Holden had never flaunted his physical advantages before, but now he was acting like my resistance wasn¡¯t impacting him at all.


    ¡°I command you to let me go.¡± If he wasn¡¯t going to yield to my strength, maybe he¡¯d smart up and listen to my power.


    ¡°The Tribunal isn¡¯t here. The council isn¡¯t here. It¡¯s just you and me.¡± He ducked his head, and his teeth grazed my throat. I convulsed.


    ¡°Let me go, Holden.¡±


    Pointy fangs scratched the smooth surface of my skin. I balled my hands in his dress shirt because my knees were suddenly wobbly. I didn¡¯t want to admit that in spite of my rage, I didn¡¯t hate what he was doing to me.


    Part of me wanted him to bite me.


    A bigger part of me wanted to show him that I wasn¡¯t going to let a goddamn sentry vampire get the best of me.


    I grabbed his throat and shoved his head away from my neck, my fingers tightening as I continued to move him backwards across the room. The hungry gleam in his eyes was still there, but this time he wasn¡¯t fighting me. I pushed him as far as the apartment¡¯s main wall, where I shoved him hard into the brick.


    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± I demanded.


    ¡°So you are still in there.¡±


    I released him and put a few steps between us. ¡°You know, if this is how you treat the women you bring to your apartment, it¡¯s no small wonder you¡¯re single.¡±


    Holden smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t usually bring such sad cases home with me.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°The girls you normally bring home are sad for entirely different reasons.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­what was that? Was that a joke?¡±


    ¡°At your expense,¡± I reminded him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it. So long as you don¡¯t start crying. You know how I feel about women who cry.¡±


    ¡°God, you¡¯re charming.¡±


    ¡°And you came here to fuck me, so there¡¯s no accounting for taste.¡± He rubbed his throat and smiled at me.


    Heaven help me, I smiled back. I was so out of practice, my cheeks hurt to make the gesture.


    ¡°Do you have anything to drink?¡± I asked.


    ¡°If you¡¯re hoping for blood, you came to the wrong place. I like¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fresh from the tap. I know. You¡¯ve used that line maybe eight million times since we first met.¡±


    Holden smirked unapologetically.


    ¡°How about something a little harder?¡± I regretted my choice of words immediately when he lowered his gaze and his grin broadened. ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re incorrigible. Truly.¡±


    ¡°You love it.¡±


    He brushed past me and into the miniscule kitchen that made my own closet-sized one look downright palatial. Vampires, by and large, had no use for kitchens. If a girl was hoping for a home-cooked meal from her vampire boyfriend, she might want to reconsider her dating pool.


    What he lacked in culinary trappings he made up for in a booze cupboard. Turning towards me, he held Jameson whiskey in one hand and Glenlivet scotch in the other.


    ¡°My island nation sends greetings. Would you prefer the luck o¡¯ the Irish or the kick in the teeth of Scotland?¡±


    I walked to the small counter that divided his kitchen from the main living space. ¡°Don¡¯t kid a kidder, Chancery. We both know you¡¯re English.¡±

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    ¡°Aye.¡± Holden had no discernible English accent in spite of spending his entire human life there. Turns out when someone spends damn near two hundred years in America, they tend to lose their accent over time. But he could switch it on as easily as twisting a faucet, and sometimes he let a Britishism slip into his speech. Right now he was doing it intentionally. ¡°And all those damned Scots and Irish are good for is booze, so take your pick.¡± He jostled the bottles at me again.


    ¡°And what if I was craving some love from Mother Russia?¡±


    He snorted. ¡°Does it look like I have a freezer?¡±


    I pointed to the scotch. Recently I¡¯d tried to drown myself under my own weight in Jameson, and I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to stomach the stuff for a while. Better to be safe than sorry. He pulled out two lowball glasses and plunked them on the counter, filling each with two fingers of scotch. I didn¡¯t bother asking for ice given his recent proclamation of having no icebox. This felt like a straight-up scotch kind of night, anyway.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. I¡¯m just getting you drunk so I can take advantage of you.¡±


    ¡°How do you know I¡¯m not a weepy drunk? Wouldn¡¯t that throw a wrench in your seduction plans.¡±


    He made a face, distorting his handsome features in an ugly and comical way.


    ¡°Besides,¡± I continued. ¡°I came here offering myself to you on a silver platter and you got all high and mighty. You refused me. That¡¯s a first. My ego is feeling a little bruised.¡± I swallowed the scotch in two big gulps and slammed the glass down on the counter.


    ¡°I stand by that move. Do I look like sloppy seconds to you?¡± He indicated his toned abs and the generally unbearable hotness of himself.


    The unbearable hotness of himself?


    I stared into the empty glass. ¡°Did you roofie me?¡±


    Holden rolled his eyes. ¡°Again, I draw your attention to exhibit A.¡± He pointed to his face. ¡°Do I look like I need date-rape drugs to get women?¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re a vampire. The walking date-rape drug.¡± I clapped my hand over my mouth, my eyes widening with horror.


    Holden looked dumbfounded for a moment before he cracked a smile. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be damned. I know you told me before how much of a lightweight you are, but I thought you were exaggerating.¡±


    Refusing to move my hand from my mouth for fear of what might come out next, I shook my head. I was sort of pathetic when it came to alcohol. I could take a beating like nobody¡¯s business, but give me a little booze and that was all it took. My heightened metabolism took me from sober to drunk in record time, as I was currently demonstrating to Holden. I had hoped my week of post-Desmond-break-up wallowing might have given me some heightened resistance to alcohol.


    No such luck.


    Holden reached across the island and pulled my hand away from my mouth. ¡°Now would be a pretty stupid time to start censoring yourself, Secret.¡±


    ¡°I might say something horrible.¡±


    ¡°That never stopped you from saying them when sober.¡± He winked.


    Damn, he had a point. I had said some wildly cruel things to him while under no influence except my own stubborn bitchiness.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°No you¡¯re not.¡± He topped off my drink and slid the refilled glass back towards me. ¡°Now drink that and tell me why you really came.¡±


    Chapter Three


    I came for sex; I stayed for drunk therapy.


    Nursing my second glass of scotch, I leaned against the counter and fixed Holden with a serious stare. ¡°What do you think I came for?¡±


    ¡°Honestly?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever been anything but?¡±


    He took a sip straight from the bottle and observed me with casual interest. ¡°I think you did come to get laid. But I also think you would have felt bad about it when you woke up later.¡±


    I rolled my eyes and took another sip of the drink, my head swimming. ¡°Shows what you know.¡±


    ¡°Think about it for a second and then deny it.¡±


    I did as I was told. Was I here to sleep with Holden because I wanted to sleep with him, or was I here because there was an empty space torn out where my heart used to be, and I was willing to fill it with anything if I could just make it stop hurting?


    I finished off my drink and made no attempt to tell him he was wrong.


    ¡°Wanna do it anyway?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No.¡± Holden screwed the top back on the bottle and returned it to its place in the cupboard. ¡°But you are spending the night here.¡±


    Outside, the night was starting to fade into early dawn, and the yellow of the city lights was turning the color of a fading bruise. It was the purple-gold sign I needed to be far away from sunlight. I¡¯d never make it home in time, and we both knew it.


    ¡°Normally I¡¯d think this was an excuse for you to get me into bed.¡±


    ¡°Secret.¡± He took the glass out of my hand and cupped my chin. His gaze bore into mine with an intensity that made me shiver. ¡°When I get you into my bed for real, we¡¯re going to need a lot longer than ten minutes if I¡¯m going to make love to you the way I¡¯ve been planning to all these years. Understand?¡±


    I swallowed hard and nodded. His words had the weight of a threat, but they had me wound tight and panting for him to follow through.


    If the sunrise wasn¡¯t a few minutes away from knocking me out completely, I was going to ask for a cold shower before going to his bedroom. As it was, I¡¯d fall asleep next to him with my mind spinning.


    I opened my eyes to find Lucas staring at me.


    Oh good, I thought. I¡¯m drinking and dreaming.


    ¡°This is why you¡¯ve been too busy to answer my calls?¡±


    Holden was still asleep, his arm wrapped around my waist a dead weight. I shoved him off me and sat up, my head clear. I rarely got hangovers in real life, so why should my dreams be any different?


    The vampire¡¯s bed was as basic as the rest of his apartment, just a mattress and box spring on a low maple bedframe with no head or footboard.


    Continuing to ignore Lucas, I looked around on the rug for my socks. I was wearing the rest of my clothes from the night before, so dream-Lucas was up on his high horse for no good reason. Unless I¡¯d started having sex fully clothed, I was innocent of whatever he was trying to imply.


    ¡°Secret¡­¡±


    ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    Dream-Lucas crossed his arms and sighed. He was a high-and-mighty asshole even in my dreams. Maybe I should have taken that as a sign before I¡¯d agreed to marry him.


    ¡°Look, I came here¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, Lucas, you don¡¯t get to tell me what to do. This is my dream, and you¡¯re not welcome here.¡±


    He skirted the bed so he was standing in front of me. I ignored him the best I could and continued to search the floor for my missing socks. Dream or no dream, my boots would be uncomfortable without them, and I needed any excuse to not look at the werewolf king.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a dream.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s a nightmare because you won¡¯t fuck off.¡±


    He grabbed my arm, and for the first time I started doubting my dream theory. His grip was hard and painful and very, very real. I¡¯d had lucid dreams before, but this had none of the strange, hazy quality of one of those.


    This was happening.


    I recoiled from his touch, clambering up on the bed and stumbling over Holden¡¯s body. This finally roused the sleeping vampire who caught me just before I fell off the mattress. My attention was all for Lucas. Real, living, breathing Lucas.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I shouted, trying to keep my voice full of anger and not hysteria.


    ¡°I need your help.¡±


    Holden set me on the floor and got to his feet, standing between me and my ex-fianc¨¦. ¡°Before I unleash the hellcat to give you a well-deserved shit-kicking, do you mind explaining why you¡¯re in my apartment?¡±


    ¡°I need her help,¡± Lucas repeated.


    ¡°How did you know she was here?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re married. I can find her anywhere.¡±


    ¡°We are not married,¡± I screamed, a bit of the hysteria I¡¯d hoped to avoid creeping up on me. ¡°You made damned sure of that.¡±


    ¡°Like it or not, Secret, you completed the ceremony. We¡¯re married.¡±


    Holden caught me before I could dive across the mattress at Lucas. God knows what I would have done if I¡¯d been allowed to get my hands on him. The vampire clamped me against his chest and held me tightly as I struggled to get at the werewolf.


    ¡°I think she¡¯s choosing the or not option,¡± Holden said smoothly, as if he weren¡¯t holding my writhing body prisoner.


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± I snarled and kicked out, making contact with Lucas¡¯s stomach.


    The attack somehow caught him by surprise, in spite of my obvious intention to do him harm. He doubled over, bracing himself against the bed while he caught his breath. I tried to kick him in the head, but Holden saw my plan before I could follow through and tugged me backwards, keeping me out of assault distance.


    ¡°Not to question your methods, but perhaps you might want to stop insisting you¡¯re married to the woman you stood up at the altar.¡± Holden set me down but pushed me behind him, his body tensed to catch me should I attempt another attack.


    ¡°The human ceremony was inconsequential.¡± Lucas righted himself. ¡°Secret, I¡¯ve tried to apologize for the unfortunate¡ª¡±


    ¡°You humiliated me. Not to mention leaving me exposed to Morgan. Desmond almost died because of you.¡±


    Lucas glared at me, the darkness of his expression evident from across the pitch-black room, which was kept safe from light by thick velvet curtains and the surprisingly dense Japanese screens. ¡°Desmond. It¡¯s always about Desmond. Well, before you fall off your high horse, you should acknowledge that Desmond was only there for you.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t try to blame this on me. He came to tell me you weren¡¯t coming. Your best friend almost died, and his blood is all on your hands.¡±

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    ¡°Let¡¯s get real, here. He hasn¡¯t been my best friend in a long time. Not since we met you.¡±


    A cold chill rocked me. ¡°Get out,¡± I demanded, clinging to Holden¡¯s arm to keep my composure. ¡°You have no right coming here.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here either,¡± he said coolly.


    ¡°Why? It¡¯s not like I have anyone else in my life anymore.¡±


    Lucas moved suddenly, grabbing Holden¡¯s nightstand and flinging it across the room where it shattered against the brick wall. ¡°You are my wife. Don¡¯t you forget that.¡±


    Holden stiffened, waiting for my reaction. I sucked in a breath through my nose and looked at the person I¡¯d once loved. I tried to feel something, tried to remember what he¡¯d meant to me. But all I saw was a villain who¡¯d broken my heart and taken away the man I loved.


    In spite of the connection through our mate bond, the one that told me he was blind with rage and desperate for me to listen to him, I felt no love. There was no sense of hatred either, though, in spite of how much I tried to will the hot, bitter taste of it up. I wanted to hate him almost as badly as I¡¯d once wanted to truly love him.


    All I felt was contempt and sadness.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I asked, choosing not to quibble with him about our marital status. I¡¯d have time later to find out the finer points of getting a werewolf divorce. We couldn¡¯t be unbonded metaphysically¡ªone of the less-fun aspects of a supernatural love match¡ªbut I¡¯d be damned if I was going to stay his were-wife forever.


    ¡°Can we speak alone?¡±


    To answer his question, I parked my ass on the rumpled sheets of Holden¡¯s bed and pulled the vampire down next to me. ¡°He¡¯d hear us anyway. Not to mention it¡¯s his apartment you broke into. He gets to stay.¡±


    The typical Lucas response would have been to insist we speak alone, but what he had to say must have been pretty important if he¡¯d barged into a vampire¡¯s loft at nightfall to haul me out of bed. He pretended as if Holden weren¡¯t in the room with us.


    ¡°It¡¯s Kellen.¡±


    My blood ran cold. It was as if my whole body had been submerged in ice water, and all the sarcasm and loathing seeped out of me, replaced with sharp, urgent fear.


    ¡°Did someone hurt her?¡±


    Lucas shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The three words sounded heavy and defeated coming from his mouth. This was a man who didn¡¯t understand what it meant to fail, and he was talking about his younger sister like he¡¯d already lost her. My fear ratcheted up ten notches.


    Obviously able to sense my discomfort, or just showing a rare sign of being a gentleman, Holden slid his hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. I didn¡¯t push him away, accepting the kindness without a word.


    Looked like we were all going to pretend to be grownups for once.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said. ¡°Where is she?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± This time the anger he¡¯d been unable to mask before when shouting at me was more subdued, but I didn¡¯t miss it. ¡°Have you¡­? Has she talked to you at all?¡±


    I took a brief mental inventory of when I¡¯d last spoken to Kellen. She and my vampire prot¨¦g¨¦e Brigit had been practically glued to my side for the week following Lucas¡¯s¡­mistake. I¡¯d seen more of Kellen than I had of my own half-sister Eugenia in that time. Not that I blamed Genie. She had responsibilities of her own to deal with in Louisiana, and Kellen¡¯s only responsibilities were what parties she was meant to attend on any given night.


    But after a week of heavy girl-bonding, I¡¯d needed to be alone. I¡¯d spoken to her on the phone, but not for several days.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, maybe Sunday?¡± It was now Wednesday.


    Lucas began to pace the small open area at the foot of the bed. I noticed for the first time how disheveled he looked. His normally tidy blond hair was a mess, and he had a good two days¡¯ worth of stubble on his jaw. The clothes he wore were designer, but considering he was a billionaire, that was a default rather than a fashion-conscious decision. His shirt was wrinkled and buttoned improperly, and there was a coffee stain on the upper thigh of his jeans.


    This wasn¡¯t the Lucas I knew.


    My Lucas was strong, levelheaded and hardly ever showed a sign of weakness. The man in front of me was frantic and letting it show. I wanted to stage a Moonstruck-style intervention and smack him across the face, hollering, ¡°Snap out of it!¡± But he looked too far gone for that to help.


    He was more than worried. He thought she was already dead.


    ¡°How long has it been since someone talked to her?¡± I asked.


    If he heard me, he made no sign of acknowledging it. He continued to pace the floor until Holden finally chimed in. ¡°Hey, Fido. The lady asked you a question.¡±


    Normally Holden¡¯s dog jokes rankled Lucas in the worst way. Tonight he merely stopped his caged-animal back-and-forthing and stared at us both as if he¡¯d forgotten where he was. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°How long has it been since someone spoke to Kellen?¡± I repeated.


    ¡°Jackson was with her last, and that was Monday. None of her friends have talked to her since then. No one in the pack has heard from her either.¡± This wasn¡¯t entirely surprising since Kellen was not a werewolf, but it was interesting she hadn¡¯t talked to her human friends either.


    I immediately shifted gears from worried-friend mode to PI mode. ¡°Where was she when Jackson saw her?¡±


    ¡°He dropped her off in Chinatown on Monday night. He was supposed to pick her up later that night, but she texted to say she wouldn¡¯t be needing him. That was it.¡±


    Chinatown? What was Kellen doing in Chinatown? I could understand her blowing off Jackson, one of Lucas¡¯s young werewolf lackeys, especially if she thought another plan would be more fun. Kellen was constantly in search of the better party. I was no stranger to getting a text-message blow off from her at the last minute. But text messages were also easy to fake. And if someone knew her habits, they¡¯d know a text wouldn¡¯t be questioned by anyone familiar with Kellen¡¯s laissez-faire attitude when it came to polite behavior.


    I pursed my lips together, mulling over what little information he¡¯d given me.


    ¡°You could have called me to ask this.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I would have if you¡¯d answer my goddamn calls,¡± he retorted. There was the bristling anger I was more familiar with from him. Good, I needed him angry. Just like Holden couldn¡¯t handle me being a simpering wussy, Lucas was useless to me¡ªand more importantly to his pack¡ªas an unstable, worried brother.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably nothing.¡± Once again I ignored his rage. Point two for me. Aside from the huge coolness deduction I¡¯d lost when I kicked him, I was definitely looking like the more emotionally stable of the two of us. Perish the thought.


    ¡°She has never, never ignored my calls, Secret. Not since¡­not since our parents died.¡±


    So even the media-darling wild child still had a responsible side when it came to family. I loved Kellen and thought of her like a sister¡ªbefore I¡¯d known I had one of my own¡ªbut I never stopped learning things about her that surprised me. I assumed she¡¯d be flighty and unreliable, especially with Lucas. This new tidbit was making my It¡¯s cool, don¡¯t worry argument harder to stand behind.


    ¡°There are a dozen reasons she might not have called. You know how Kellen is.¡± It didn¡¯t take any wild stretches of imagination to come up with a plausible story to explain her absence. ¡°She could have gone on a last-minute vacation, probably to Cozumel or something. Her phone got wet, she hasn¡¯t realized she¡¯s missed any calls, so she doesn¡¯t even know you¡¯re worried. It¡¯s only been forty-eight hours. It¡¯s hardly time to send out the National Guard.¡± I held my hands open in front of me and raised both eyebrows, trying to convey a certainty that said, See, see how easy this is to believe?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Hearing him say those words so often in such a short span of time was making me both nervous and annoyed. My desire to slap some sense into him made my fingers burn.


    ¡°We both know her,¡± I reminded him. ¡°She is a sweet, well-meaning girl, Lucas, but she isn¡¯t always the most¡­considerate of how her actions impact others.¡±


    He nodded, and I could see I was getting somewhere. Which was good, because the sooner he accepted the wisdom of my words, the sooner I could get him the hell out of Holden¡¯s apartment.


    ¡°I¡¯m worried,¡± he said. ¡°I have so many enemies. And if they can¡¯t get to me or to you¡­ I¡¯m worried someone might have done something to her. Something bad.¡±


    The stupid part of me that once loved him wanted to go to him. I wanted to hold him and tell him everything would be okay.


    Instead I internally Moonstruck-ed myself.


    ¡°Would it make you feel better if I looked into it? Keaty and I have contacts. I can ask around, make sure nothing bad has happened to her. I¡¯ll get Mercedes to run the usual checks, and we¡¯ll put your mind at ease.¡± My friend Mercedes was an NYPD detective, and one of these days she was going to get sick of doing under-the-table favors for me. I wouldn¡¯t blame her, either, considering how many times her life had been put in danger because of her friendship with me. But for now, at least, I knew running some checks wouldn¡¯t kick me out of her good books just yet.


    Another bonus of being the jilted bride was people were willing to be extra nice to you.


    Being a woman scorned and almost killed at a wedding covered by the international press meant I also got a lot of cool free designer stuff mailed to me. But that was beside the point. My new Hermes bag wasn¡¯t going to make Lucas feel better about his maybe-but-probably-not missing sister.


    ¡°You¡¯d do that for me?¡±


    Holden huffed out a disgusted grunt but said nothing.


    ¡°No. I¡¯d do it for Kellen. For you I¡¯m going to say go take a shower and shave. Don¡¯t let any of your pack, or God forbid my uncle¡¯s pack, see you looking like a homeless grad student. You¡¯re a king, for fuck¡¯s sake. Start acting like one.¡±

 Page 4

    He bristled visibly. ¡°What did you just say to me?¡±


    ¡°I said suck it up, buttercup. You can¡¯t be worried about a human if your pack is in such a fragile state that you can¡¯t show up to your own wedding. You have bigger fish to fry.¡±


    ¡°Secret¡­¡± Ah, the familiar, impatient, warning sound. He¡¯d loved to scold me like I was a naughty child, and not in a kinky way. But he didn¡¯t get to talk down to me anymore.


    ¡°You said we¡¯re married, right? That I¡¯m your wife?¡±


    He didn¡¯t speak, but I could tell from the way his eyes narrowed he knew he wouldn¡¯t like what I had to say next.


    ¡°Then that makes me Queen of the Eastern pack. It makes all your problems my problems. And you looking like a lost, pathetic puppy is putting every single wolf in your pack at risk. Go home. Brush your hair. Put on a suit. I¡¯ll take care of this like I always take care of the stuff you don¡¯t know how to deal with.¡±


    I looked at Holden beside me, and his brown eyes were wide. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was impressed with me or appalled. Admittedly, I was a bit of both. Lucas had told me he was fearful for someone he loved, and I¡¯d basically told him not to get his royal panties in a twist.


    I¡¯d also called myself the wolf queen, so really I was on a roll as far as talking out my ass went.


    Looking down at his rumpled shirt, then back to me, Lucas remained silent for a long time before he said, ¡°Okay.¡±


    When he walked out of the room, I stared with open amazement at the dark space he¡¯d occupied a second earlier.


    Holden, not wanting to let the moment go unacknowledged, said, ¡°All hail Secret, Queen of the Bitches.¡±


    Chapter Four


    My apartment didn¡¯t feel like home without Desmond in it.


    It was also an ever-increasing disaster area since he wasn¡¯t there to pick things up or guilt me into not being a slob. When I¡¯d lived alone, the mess had never bothered me, but since living with him I saw everything through a Desmond Alvarez-hued filter.


    When I stepped through my apartment door after walking home from Holden¡¯s place, it wasn¡¯t exactly like stepping into the streets of Beirut, but my living room would have served as an excellent before in juxtaposition to Holden¡¯s sleek, spotless after, if a magazine wanted to showcase New York apartments.


    I didn¡¯t eat, so there were no dirty plates or food wrappers anywhere in sight. What was littered over every piece of furniture, however, was clothing. When I¡¯m unhappy, I don¡¯t like the way anything looks. When I¡¯m depressed, as it turns out, it is an absolute requirement that I try on¡ªand hate¡ªevery single item of clothing I own.


    I¡¯d been in a three-week cycle of repeating this process. It had gotten to the point where there wasn¡¯t any clothing left in my closet. Everything was scattered throughout the apartment, waiting for the next time I would hunt it down, put it on, then hurl it somewhere else in disgust.


    Desmond would have had it hung, folded and sorted by color in the span of twenty minutes. He was an architect and had a natural flair for order, whereas my only natural skill was destruction.


    Rio, a wiry snake of fur and attitude, stretched out on top of the rumpled pile of T-shirts she¡¯d been sleeping on and padded across the living room floor, plunking her bony feline ass down in front of me and casting her lime-green gaze upwards.


    ¡°Brreeeeow?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Nope, sorry, kitten, just me. Always just me.¡±


    She butted her furry head against my shin and purred. ¡°Mrow.¡±


    ¡°Ugh, fine.¡± I plucked her off the floor, and the purring reached epic proportions as she bashed her tiny skull into my chin. I could pretend to hate her as much as I wanted. The damned cat knew better.


    Sidestepping a tangled pair of jeans that still held the shape of my legs, I carried Rio back to my small yellow loveseat and curled up with the cat in my arms, petting her absentmindedly as I stared at the black television screen.


    And Desmond¡¯s stupid Xbox.


    In three weeks the desire to play Halo had not proven stronger than his aversion to seeing me. I felt like I was keeping the damned thing hostage, waiting for him to yield and come back to the apartment because he really needed to indulge in a first-person shooter.


    I didn¡¯t want to admit a grown man with a six-figure income might go out and buy himself a new game console instead of facing the woman who¡¯d almost gotten him killed.


    Rio nipped at my finger when I stopped petting her. I gave her a scolding tap on the nose then continued to indulge her whims. At least one female in this apartment might as well be happy. I couldn¡¯t even get laid by a vampire I had a one-night-stand pact with. Secret McQueen, spinster for life.


    This was why I¡¯d tried to be happy being single.


    Men screwed everything up. And the more men I added to the equation, the messier things got. Menage-a-trois romance novels lied. There was no way to have a happily ever after with more than one partner. I¡¯d tried to juggle too many balls¡ªno pun intended¡ªand I¡¯d ended up empty-handed.


    So now began the Crazy Cat Lady chapter of my life.


    Fine.


    I could at least be a Crazy Cat Lady who could track down wayward socialites. Kellen couldn¡¯t have gotten far, but she could have gotten into a lot of trouble. I might have told Lucas she was fine, but I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I believed it myself. I didn¡¯t think she was kidnapped or dead. Unfortunately, her being arrested or turned into an accidental drug mule still wasn¡¯t out of the question.


    I dialed my cell.


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± came a cheerful, teasing male voice. ¡°I hear you¡¯re the Big Bad Wolf now?¡±


    Dominick Alvarez, Desmond¡¯s younger brother and Lucas¡¯s live-in bodyguard, was possibly the kindest, funniest, most charming man I¡¯d ever met. If he wasn¡¯t also the only gay werewolf I knew, I¡¯d probably marry him, save myself a mountain of drama and live in a white-picket-fence neighborhood in suburbia.


    Since he was an Alvarez, he¡¯d probably make me clean up after myself too, though.


    ¡°He made it back okay, then?¡±


    ¡°Yes. If you¡¯re calling to see if he¡¯s following your instructions, I¡¯m pleased to tell you he has indeed showered and shaved. As the one person who has to spend all day in close proximity to him, I thank you profusely for mandating soap.¡±


    Clearly Dominick wasn¡¯t too worked up over the whole Kellen situation. The Alvarez family had known the Rains their whole lives. If anyone could be cavalier about Kellen¡¯s behavior, it would be Dominick, since he¡¯d been exposed to it since childhood.


    ¡°How long has he been like that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hedge. Just spit out your question.¡±


    Damn him. He knew what I wanted to ask, but he¡¯d never let me be coy about it. ¡°Did he start acting weird because of Kellen or was it¡­sooner? Like¡­after the wedding?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, kid. This is new.¡±


    I chewed on my lip briefly. It was the answer I¡¯d expected, but at the same time I¡¯d hoped maybe Lucas had felt at least a little bad for what he¡¯d done to me. Apparently not.


    ¡°Keep an eye on him for me,¡± I said.


    ¡°I keep both eyes on him. Always.¡±


    ¡°Then can you do me a favor?¡±


    A pause. ¡°That depends.¡±


    ¡°If he starts drifting again, let me know. I may not be with him, but as he so crassly reminded me tonight, I¡¯m still bonded to him. And even if I weren¡¯t, I¡¯m still pack protector. He¡¯s putting everyone at risk if he¡¯s running around like a stinky vagabond.¡±


    Dominick made a sound like he was stifling a laugh. ¡°I¡¯ll do it, on one condition.¡±


    Oh God how I hated the words on one condition.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to have sex with you,¡± I replied jokingly.


    ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a hard thing to manage.¡±


    ¡°Ouch.¡± Okay, I deserved that. ¡°What¡¯d you have in mind?¡±


    ¡°Go see Des.¡±


    My heart sank, feeling like a stone in my chest. ¡°Dominick, I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my condition.¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to see me.¡± And who could blame him?


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°Has he said anything to make you think different?¡±


    A pause. ¡°Not to me.¡±


    ¡°To anyone?¡± A glimmer of hope began to burn inside me, and hope was the most dangerous and unrepentantly naggy of all human emotions. Hope was something I didn¡¯t have the time to deal with.


    ¡°Penny.¡±


    ¡°He told Penny what exactly?¡± Penny was Dominick and Desmond¡¯s little sister, and considering she was thirteen years old, I didn¡¯t know if I could put much stock in anything she was saying.


    ¡°He told her he misses you.¡±


    I sighed and blinked a few times. When did this room get so dusty? ¡°Desmond would want to make it easier on her. Who wants to explain it to a teenager?¡±


    ¡°He does miss you, Secret.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± I conceded. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t mean he wants me back.¡±


    ¡°Go see him. Say you will and I¡¯ll tell you everything Lucas does.¡±


    ¡°Now you¡¯re making me sound like a creepy stalker.¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re being a good queen.¡±


    There it was, my royal title for the second time that night. ¡°So if you acknowledge I¡¯m the queen, why won¡¯t you take my orders?¡±


    ¡°Well, for starters, Your Majesty, my boss outranks you.¡± I could practically feel Dominick wink.


    ¡°Damn. I call for a favor from the one werewolf who is a royalist loyalist.¡±


    ¡°Just doing my job.¡±


    I forced a smile, which was pointless because he couldn¡¯t see me. ¡°So am I.¡±


    Chapter Five


    I didn¡¯t call Desmond.


    It wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t want to, because it was the only thing I wanted to do. All night long from when I woke at dusk to the repellent moment sunrise forced me out of the world, I itched to call him. To see him. I sometimes would go a mile out of my way to walk by his apartment in the off chance I might accidentally bump into him. My use of the word stalker had been a joke when I¡¯d used it in reference to Lucas, but I was towing a line when it came to Desmond.

 Page 5

    I knew it was wrong, but instead of calling him I was walking through the financial district towards his office. It was late, well after nine by now, but I suspected he might still be there. I had no intention of talking to him, but hearing Dominick say I should see Desmond made a need take light in me.


    I had to see him.


    Desmond was a fix I couldn¡¯t make it through the rest of my night without indulging in.


    The Rain Industries Tower was on Bank St. in spite of the fact it had nothing to do with banking. As I traversed the nearly empty sidewalk, watching a few late workers move towards the subway stations or waiting town cars, I started to think about what a terrible plan this was.


    I shouldn¡¯t be here, but bad ideas seemed to be the only ones I was capable of having lately.


    I climbed between the metal paws of a lion statue in front of a bank on the opposite side of the street and sank into the shadowy cradle of its legs. The Rain business center looked out of sorts with its surroundings, too glossy, metallic and modern next to the old skyscrapers it was nestled between. The lobby was white, all the furniture and art¡ªa Jackson Pollack series¡ªwere done in a variety of shades of the color.


    Shades of white were something I¡¯d never understood. Was there really a difference between linen and cotton flower? They¡¯d tried to convince me white came in shades when I¡¯d tried on wedding dresses, but I still had trouble accepting it.


    Instead I thought about what a bitch it would be to clean up blood in that lobby.


    Desmond was a stark contrast to the whiteness of the space as he walked through it. He wore a charcoal-gray suit with the blazer slung over one arm and his pale green tie loosened. With the sleeves rolled up and his top two buttons undone I could see the dark hair on his arms and chest. Desire stirred in me.


    When he stopped to talk to the desk man, I was afforded a view of one of my favorite parts of Desmond¡¯s body, his tight, firm butt, which well-tailored pants made the most of. My leather jacket was suddenly much too hot. He and the older man laughed at a joke, and my throat constricted, lust fading into the painful reminder he was no longer mine to lust after. With a final wave he left the building and jogged down the steps.


    Go to him, my brain commanded.


    I shifted but didn¡¯t move from my perch.


    Desmond stopped abruptly at the bottom of the steps, and his eyes widened slightly. He sniffed the air. Oh goddammit, of course he sniffed the air. Why was I constantly forgetting about the natural abilities of werewolves in their human form? I hadn¡¯t been this close to him, hadn¡¯t seen him in the three weeks since he¡¯d taken a bullet meant for me.


    I¡¯d spoken to him, though.


    Damn, I had spoken to him just the night before. I¡¯d stayed on the line and listened to him breathe after he¡¯d fallen asleep in the middle of our conversation. I had it bad.


    Now he seemed to be looking right at me, but human-form werewolf vision was only good at night if the wolf had time to adjust. He¡¯d just come out of a bright lobby, and there shouldn¡¯t have been time for him to spot me in the shadows.


    I tried to push myself farther under the lion without drawing more of his attention.


    Go to him.


    My brain had a one-track mind.


    ¡°Secret?¡± He was whispering, his tone uncertain like he wasn¡¯t quite sure he could trust what he was smelling. Hearing my name from his lips was so painful I wanted to run across the street and put my arms around him.


    I didn¡¯t move.


    He raked a hand through his short black hair and scratched the dark stubble on his jaw. After a final sniff and a small shake of his head, Desmond sighed and walked off down the street. When he vanished, I slipped out from my hiding place and watched the space where I¡¯d last seen him. If I ran, I could catch him.


    Instead I turned and walked the opposite way.


    Chapter Six


    The next night, shortly after moonrise, I slipped through the front door of a brownstone with Keats & McQueen¡ªPrivate Pest Control etched on the glass. I¡¯d lived with Keaty a mere three years, but that was all it had taken for this place to feel like home to me.


    Though Keaty himself hadn¡¯t quite felt like family.


    I loved him dearly, but in the way you love a pet snake. He was important to me, and without him I¡¯d have never learned to survive in this city, but Keaty didn¡¯t love things. If pressed, I might admit Keaty was very likely a sociopath. Only he didn¡¯t try to fake emotion, he was just a blank slate.


    The blank slate in question called to me from the open door of his office.


    ¡°The prodigal daughter has returned,¡± he said, his tone unreadable.


    As I often did in the office, I kicked my shoes off at the door and made myself comfortable. I padded barefoot into Keaty¡¯s space and slid backwards over the arm of one of his high wingback chairs, letting my legs dangle off the side.


    ¡°Oh, yes, do make yourself at home.¡± The man himself sat in a leather chair behind his big wooden desk. He was probably north of forty, but he didn¡¯t look it. His dark blond hair hadn¡¯t begun to show signs of gray, but he had firm frown lines permanently etched around his mouth. Still, though, he was in excellent physical condition for a man of any age.


    For the first time in years something else sat on the desk in front of him, and be still my heart it was a laptop.


    ¡°You own a computer?¡±


    ¡°In spite of your opinion of me, I am perfectly aware it is not 1943 and I am also not Phillip Marlowe.¡±


    ¡°Sam Spade,¡± I teased.


    He grunted. ¡°I always preferred Chandler to Hammett, myself.¡±


    ¡°You read books?¡± I asked with mock surprise. In for a penny, in for a pound. If I was going to poke a sleeping bear, it might as well be a sociopath who killed monsters for fun.


    Monsters like me.


    ¡°I used to have this marvelous thing known as spare time. Then I met a sassy, bothersome teenaged vampire hunter, and what do you know? My time disappeared.¡±


    ¡°You love me.¡± I picked up a paperweight on his desk, a crystal rose, and turned it over gently in my hands. Last time I¡¯d taken something off his desk it had supposedly contained the soul of a big bad shaman or something. Ever since then I¡¯d been careful not to handle things, but I was feeling fidgety and it was shiny.


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± he replied. I set the flower down and stared at him. In seven years it was the closest thing I¡¯d ever gotten from Keaty that resembled an admission of emotional attachment.


    Given some of the training methods he¡¯d had for me as a teenager were borderline torture¡ªpsychological and physical alike¡ªI¡¯d never thought I¡¯d hear him say he was proud of me, let alone that he loved me. He was the ultimate hard-to-please parent figure, and I thought the best I¡¯d ever do was Well, you¡¯re still alive.


    ¡°Are you dying?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid.¡± As though his mortality couldn¡¯t possibly be in question.


    ¡°You always told me to rely on my natural gifts.¡±


    ¡°Only you would think stupidity was a gift.¡±


    I grinned at him. ¡°Dumb luck. I am the master of it.¡±


    ¡°To what do I owe the great, rare presence of your royal wolfish, vampire Tribunal-leading self in my office? Aren¡¯t you otherwise occupied with running the underworld?¡±


    Ah, was that bitterness I smelled? It was hard to tell with all his subtlety.


    Looked like it was also going to be call-Secret-on-her-shit day. Nice. Kick a girl when she was down.


    Except in this case I sort of felt like I deserved all the kicks I was getting.


    ¡°I need¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± he interrupted me, leaning back in his chair and loosening the blood-red tie he wore. ¡°Please tell me what you need.¡± His tone wasn¡¯t outright mean, but I got the point. I¡¯d been asking a lot of favors, and a partnership was supposed to be give and take. Instead it had been take, take, take, and I¡¯d been the one doing all the demanding.


    I sucked. Thanks, everyone. Point taken.


    I bit my lip and swallowed the snarky reply I wanted to make. Hard to be high and mighty about your hurt pride when people are making completely valid points. My hurt expression must have shown because Keaty softened slightly.


    ¡°You understand why I¡¯m¡­unhappy with you, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯ve been a shitty partner.¡±


    Keaty nodded. ¡°I would have said ungrateful, but shitty is accurate too.¡±


    ¡°I have been taking cases.¡±


    ¡°How marvelous. Those two extra cases every month were such a burden. Thanks for getting those off my mind.¡± Oh good, sarcasm. Probably a sign I shouldn¡¯t be defending myself right now.


    ¡°Look, I do need your help with something.¡±


    ¡°Fancy that, because I need yours.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯d like to save mine until the end. What do you need?¡±


    ¡°Kellen Rain is AWOL.¡±


    ¡°Ransom demand?¡± He slid forward in his chair, and I recognized the change in his expression. It was the same shift I¡¯d had the previous night with Lucas when I went from bitter ex to professional private investigator in order to find Kellen.


    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s been kidnapped.¡±


    ¡°What does Rain think?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure he thinks she¡¯s dead.¡±


    Keaty threaded his fingers together and rested his chin on them, looking thoughtful. ¡°No, death doesn¡¯t seem right, does it? Does he have a reason for thinking that? Any specific enemies who might make a target of someone he loves?¡± He arched an eyebrow at me. First I thought he was implying I might be responsible for Kellen¡¯s disappearance, until it dawned on me he meant something else entirely.


    ¡°You think I might be at risk?¡±


    ¡°If someone is targeting those close to the king, you¡¯d be an obvious liability.¡±


    This time I snorted. ¡°You¡¯re getting rusty, Spade. It made the national news when Lucas stood me up. It¡¯s a fact universally acknowledged, to quote Jane Austen, that he doesn¡¯t give a single flying fuck about me.¡±

 Page 6

    ¡°I don¡¯t think Jane Austen ever said flying fuck.¡±


    ¡°The point. You¡¯re missing it.¡±


    ¡°I never miss the point, Secret. You tend to ignore it.¡±


    ¡°Keaty, I think you just put the ouch in touch¨¦.¡±


    He rolled his eyes. ¡°Where do you think the girl is?¡±


    ¡°Working on her tan and ignoring her phone. My dream holiday.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s not out of the realm of possibility for a girl with her¡­reputation, to vanish without word.¡± He was trying to politely say, Slutty party girls aren¡¯t known for being bastions of responsibility.


    ¡°Lucas says it¡¯s the first time she¡¯s run off without answering his calls.¡±


    ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but was she not, um, Team Secret after the wedding debacle?¡± He made air quotes around Team Secret, and I fought the urge to laugh in his face. I was trying to build bridges here, when I was naturally predisposed to burn them down.


    ¡°Yes, she was on my side.¡±


    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s ignoring his calls to punish him.¡±


    Well, damn. Why hadn¡¯t I thought of that? Hadn¡¯t it been precisely what I¡¯d done?


    ¡°She isn¡¯t answering any calls, though.¡±


    ¡°Have you tried?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Of course I hadn¡¯t yet tried the most obvious thing.


    ¡°Give me your phone, please.¡±


    I obliged and handed my cell to him. He dialed Kellen¡¯s number from my phone book and turned on the speakerphone. We stared at each other across the desk as it rang three, four, five times with no answer and then a click. ¡°Hey, bitches, you¡¯ve reached Kellen. Leave me a message, or better yet, why aren¡¯t you at this party?¡± Her voicemail message ended with a girlish giggle.


    Keaty and I continued to watch each other, both our faces impassive. His attention was heavy as I said, ¡°Hey, Kel, it¡¯s Secret. Call me back, please. Your pain-in-the-ass brother is looking for you.¡±


    My partner hit the end button and slid the phone back across the desk to me. ¡°Are you worried?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I lied.


    ¡°Then back to my first question. Does he have any enemies?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a werewolf king, a billionaire and an asshole. Of course he has enemies.¡±


    Keaty turned to the laptop in front of him and deftly typed something, his fingers flying over the keyboard with an alarming speed for a man I¡¯d thought hated all technology. ¡°I don¡¯t see any hostile takeovers, bad business dealings or anything that would suggest this is corporate. Could it be Callum?¡±


    My uncle, Werewolf King of the South, hadn¡¯t been a big fan of my marriage to Lucas, nor did he think the younger king could handle the territory he had. This had been made abundantly clear when he¡¯d tried to steal some of our land and people. That territory dispute was what Lucas had been dealing with instead of showing up to our wedding.


    Callum had also been the one to force our hands and push us into the werewolf marriage ceremony. My uncle wasn¡¯t my favorite person by far, but I did believe he cared about me in his own weird, twisted way. He also wasn¡¯t the type to mix humans up with werewolf business if he could avoid it.


    ¡°Kellen isn¡¯t a werewolf. Callum wouldn¡¯t touch her. It would be bad for his image.¡±


    Keaty nodded, trusting my assessment of my uncle¡¯s motivation. ¡°So there aren¡¯t any obvious suspects, none that would make kidnapping appear likely. And without a ransom request, I think you¡¯re correct. She¡¯s probably on vacation.¡±


    ¡°All the same, I¡¯d like to use some of your less seemly contacts to make sure no one has seen her around or heard anything differently about her well-being. Just so I can put Lucas at ease.¡±


    ¡°Why do you care how he feels?¡±


    I looked at my hands, rubbing my damp palms on my jeans before I spoke again. ¡°I don¡¯t care how Lucas feels. But I can¡¯t change my ties to the pack. And he isn¡¯t¡­right. I need him to get right so he can take care of his people. Otherwise it¡¯s my job to make sure men like my uncle, and like Marcus Sullivan, don¡¯t try to take advantage of a perceived weakness.¡±


    I¡¯d killed a would-be usurper to Lucas¡¯s throne once, over a year earlier, and it had given me the illustrious and unwanted title of pack protector. Supernatural job titles were like Pokemon to me, apparently. Gotta catch them all.


    I didn¡¯t want to be queen, but I¡¯d earned the pack-protector position in a legitimate way, and I took the role seriously. And with only a week until the next full moon, I wanted to be on good terms with the pack. When I¡¯d been in Louisiana, I¡¯d shifted form for the first time in my adult life. I didn¡¯t know if the same thing would happen this month, but my ability to resist the change had been compromised. If becoming a werewolf was going to be a new monthly trend, I didn¡¯t want to do it alone. I¡¯d had a difficult time controlling my inner wolf, and the pack would be able to help me if things went badly.


    I needed them, so I couldn¡¯t simply dismiss them now that Lucas and I weren¡¯t together.


    That meant I needed to live up to my perceived duties.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Keaty said. ¡°I¡¯ll ask about the girl. Now do you want to know what I need you for?¡±


    I¡¯d almost forgotten this was a quid pro quo situation. ¡°Sure.¡±


    He tapped something into his computer and spun it around.


    A glassy-eyed corpse stared back at me.


    Chapter Seven


    ¡°Whoa,¡± I cried. ¡°A little warning next time.¡±


    The body was hardly the scariest I¡¯d ever seen. My line of work meant I was constantly being shown the grim and bloody handiwork of any number of creatures, and I¡¯d encountered everything from dismembered human corpses to rotting, dead vampires. But when you¡¯re not expecting it, death has a habit of smacking you in the face.


    On Keaty¡¯s laptop was a color photo of a dead teenaged boy. His skin had the telltale gray pallor of death a few days¡¯ old, and his eyes had a milky-white hue, the pupil having faded into an almost imperceptible blue. My eyes roved over the photo, ensuring there were no bite marks on his neck. It didn¡¯t mean there wouldn¡¯t be marks anywhere else, but the neck was the best, easiest place to drain someone.


    This didn¡¯t look like a vampire kill.


    I slid the laptop closer, seeing that this was only the first in a full gallery of photos, and clicked through the rest of them. The boy wore a Papa John¡¯s pizza uniform with a small plastic nametag telling me his name was Petey.


    Petey.


    Sickness flooded my belly. This kid shouldn¡¯t be dead, no matter what had killed him. If he was so young he hadn¡¯t outgrown a nickname like Petey, he hadn¡¯t been old enough to die. It might not be my first time seeing a dead teenager, but seeing death take someone before they¡¯d reached their prime tended to strike a chord with me.


    My teenaged years had been spent fighting for my life and learning how to survive in a world filled with monsters and all forms of despicable evil. I hadn¡¯t gotten to participate in the innocence of youth. Petey had been killed by those monsters, and I felt guilty for it.


    There was no blood on him, and no signs of violent death, but he was dead and the case was in Keaty¡¯s hands. I did the math, and weird potential murder plus my boss almost always added up to supernatural killer.


    ¡°What did it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. The coroner ruled it a heart attack, but his parents aren¡¯t buying it. Someone said I was the right person to find out what had killed their beloved son. That¡¯s what they said. What, not who.¡±


    ¡°And what do you need my help for?¡±


    ¡°Funny thing about his last delivery the night of his death.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°It went to a Starbucks three blocks from your apartment.¡±


    In a roundabout way, Keaty was suggesting Marilyn Monroe had killed a pizza delivery boy.


    I had, during my time associated with the vampire council, gotten to know a truly unusual creature known as the Oracle. To me she was just Calliope, but she was the only one of her kind I¡¯d ever met, and Keaty wasn¡¯t out of line pointing his investigation in her direction.


    Calliope, a half-fairy/half-god, had a bad habit of needing to feed off a life essence other than blood¡ªthough she was also a fan of the red stuff. She preferred to eat aura energy. Specifically the aura energy of young male virgins.


    I wasn¡¯t implying that Petey hadn¡¯t been a sex stud in his living years, but the sixteen-year-old didn¡¯t strike me as a pussy magnet. However, he would have been Calliope¡¯s type.


    Calliope had been many things in her timeless life: muse, model, destroyer of lives and worlds, lover of vampires, and for a few brief decades, one of the most famous movie stars in the world. It wasn¡¯t that I thought her killing people was outside the realm of possibility. In fact, I¡¯d have been shocked to learn the Oracle hadn¡¯t killed anyone. She didn¡¯t have the same reverence for human life as, say, a vampire who had once had their own mortality.


    Calliope was immortal. Scarily, genuinely immortal.


    So what was the life of a sixteen-year-old to her?


    Logic told me why Keaty believed it was her. But personal experience told me he had to be wrong. I¡¯d seen her victims after she¡¯d fed off them, either their blood or aura. They were often dazed and a little woozy, but they always walked out alive after the fact. And usually with one hell of a big tip. She had thousands of years to hone her control, so no, I didn¡¯t believe she¡¯d had a slipup and accidentally killed someone.


    But if I thought she was innocent, why wasn¡¯t I going to see her to ask her point-blank?


    For starters, I wasn¡¯t a hundred percent sure she was innocent. The evidence was stacked against her, and I didn¡¯t want to run into her house demanding she explain herself if there was another way. And that brought up another problem.


    Calliope wasn¡¯t called the Oracle for no reason.


    She could see the future.


    So if I was planning to barge in and start accusing her of murder, she¡¯d see it coming. And if she was guilty, it would mean she¡¯d be ready for me. To be perfectly honest, I didn¡¯t want to go head-to-head with an immortal being who was older than recorded time if she knew to expect me.

 Page 7

    For the time being, I was stuck in old-school PI-research mode. I had to find Kellen, and I had to prove Calliope hadn¡¯t killed the pizza boy. Without supernatural help.


    All before the full moon next week, if I could.


    No big deal.


    I started with the murder investigation, trusting Keaty would stay true to his word and ask about Kellen with his sources. Nothing says serious detective like showing up at a Papa John¡¯s at eleven o¡¯clock at night on a Thursday.


    ¡°What can I get you?¡± A bored-looking teenage girl snapped her bubble gum and stared through me like I was invisible.


    ¡°Did you know Peter Giambi?¡±


    Now I had her attention. ¡°Petey?¡± Her expression fell, and genuine sadness replaced her ennui. She¡¯d liked him. ¡°What do you want?¡± she demanded, her tone suspicious.


    ¡°I¡¯m a private investigator working with his parents.¡±


    ¡°You have a badge or something?¡± Man alive, when did teenagers stop being blindly trusting? I pulled out my PI license and showed it to her, not bothering to hide the holstered gun under my jacket.


    ¡°Did Peter have any regular runs? Places he delivered to all the time?¡±


    ¡°Sure, we have a few regulars. People who order two or three times a week. It¡¯s New York, lady, no one cooks anymore.¡±


    Sad, but true. A lot of people in the city viewed their ovens as a wildly unnecessary waste of good bookshelf or closet space. My own kitchen was about the size of a shoebox.


    ¡°Did anyone request him by name?¡±


    The girl¡ªher nametag said Becca¡ªshook her head. ¡°No, ma¡¯am. We have a real serious policy about that. If a customer requests a specific delivery driver, we send the manager instead. It¡¯s a safety thing.¡±


    I was impressed. They took care of their staff here. Too bad it hadn¡¯t helped Petey.


    A man was standing behind me now, the smell of him woodsy, like pine and dirt. I bristled. He was a werewolf, and I didn¡¯t need to turn around to know he wasn¡¯t part of Lucas¡¯s pack. I slipped a card out of my jacket pocket and handed it to the girl.


    ¡°If you could make a list of any locations in the Hell¡¯s Kitchen area Petey delivered to on a regular basis, that would be helpful to me.¡±


    She took my card and gave an enthusiastic nod. I could tell the idea of helping in the investigation of Petey¡¯s death was important to her.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you get to your other customers,¡± I said.


    ¡°What other customers?¡± Becca replied.


    When I turned around, the werewolf who had been standing behind me was gone.


    Chapter Eight


    Stepping into the cool night, I was on edge.


    I was also expecting the attack.


    Expectation didn¡¯t make the punch across my face hurt any less.


    The werewolf had at least been smart enough to wait until I was away from the small line of businesses and had crossed the street towards a darker area where nothing was open. I¡¯d smelled dirt before he hit me, but the punch landed square on my jaw, knocking my head to the side and making me see stars.


    This bugger was strong.


    I staggered and regained my footing, but he was already on the move. I tried to get a fix on his scent. Having met all the wolves in both Lucas¡¯s and Callum¡¯s packs, I was certain I¡¯d be able to tell if he belonged to one or the other. He smelled completely foreign.


    Ducking, I avoided the next swing and darted a fist into the meat of his belly. He swore and stumbled backwards. I reached for my gun, but he¡¯d righted himself and dove at me, knocking me back into the wall, smacking my skull against the brick.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I demanded before head-butting him.


    He took two steps back, and I unholstered my weapon, training the armed gun on him in lightning speed before he decided to make another jump at me.


    ¡°Answer my question or lose the top of your head.¡±


    He laughed. Well, this brought back memories. It had been a long time since someone had laughed while they were fighting me. ¡°I don¡¯t need to answer to you,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Mr. SIG P226 would like to suggest otherwise.¡±


    The werewolf chuckled again, but between the two of us, I had a gun and he had a bloody nose.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to ask one more time, and I¡¯d really appreciate if we could bypass the whole I¡¯m a scary werewolf and you¡¯re Little Red Riding Hood bullshit, okay? Who are you?¡±


    ¡°A loyalist.¡±


    ¡°Loyal to what?¡±


    ¡°The true queen.¡±


    In spite of the general warmth of the night air, I was suddenly freezing. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°The true queen.¡± This time he spit at the ground in front of my feet.


    I¡¯d heard this before, the delusional ramblings about rightful queens. A lot of people didn¡¯t believe I deserved to wear a werewolf crown, and I wasn¡¯t disagreeing with them. But two had gone to great lengths to see me lose my head rather than have it be the one wearing a tiara. One of them was in Siberia.


    Morgan Scott wasn¡¯t the werewolf I was worried about when faced with this wild-eyed stranger.


    ¡°Do you mean Mercy McQueen?¡±


    ¡°The queen,¡± he corrected.


    Oh sweet merciful crap. As if I didn¡¯t have enough on my plate right now.


    ¡°My mother sent you?¡±


    That stopped his laughter. ¡°Your mother?¡± He must not have been too bright if he hadn¡¯t sorted the connection out on his own.


    ¡°Secret,¡± I replied, pointing to myself. ¡°McQueen.¡±


    ¡°The pretender.¡±


    ¡°Oh for the love of God,¡± I groaned.


    The wolf advanced, trying to punch me again. His strike glanced off my shoulder, and I replied by cold-cocking him with the gun. ¡°Stop that.¡±


    He was slumped against the brick wall, glaring up at me. His expression said, When I stop being concussed, I¡¯m going to get you really good.


    ¡°What bullshit line is she feeding you now to make you believe she¡¯s the rightful queen of anything?¡±


    ¡°Ian, don¡¯t answer her.¡± A few feet away a trio of men had arrived to join our party. Awesome, so Mercy had more than one lackey believing her lies now. And me with only the one gun. The three new wolves drew closer, and much to my chagrin I recognized one of them. The scrawny, racist asshole I¡¯d met in Callum¡¯s compound the previous month. I¡¯d enjoyed meeting him so much I¡¯d introduced him to my fist.


    ¡°Hank,¡± I growled.


    ¡°Princess.¡±


    ¡°You in charge of this charade?¡±


    The man in the middle of the group, whose dark hair was pulled into a ponytail and looked like he hadn¡¯t shaved in days, laughed at my question. ¡°We answer to the queen.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no expert in werewolf politics, boys, but I know whose territory you¡¯re in, and the only queen here is not the one giving you orders.¡± None of these wolves had been part of Marcus¡¯s hostile takeover attempts, so where were they getting this queen garbage from?


    ¡°Our queen has been misplaced from her territory,¡± Pony-boy replied, casting a glance to Hank. ¡°So she¡¯s looking for a new throne. Yours.¡±


    ¡°Mine isn¡¯t currently available.¡±


    ¡°That can be changed.¡± Ian, the werewolf I¡¯d knocked to the ground, made a grab for my ankle, and I kicked him in the head.


    ¡°Do you understand the hell you¡¯ve just invited on yourselves?¡± My tone wasn¡¯t threatening, it didn¡¯t need to be. Given my history, they should have known it would take more than a few rogue wolves to get me out of Mercy¡¯s way.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±


    Between Callum and Lucas, they¡¯d signed their own death warrants. The implication, as I understood it, was that Mercy believed she was the rightful heir to the Southern kingdom. And if Callum wouldn¡¯t give it up to her¡ªwhich he wouldn¡¯t¡ªshe was going to come east and try to lay claim to my pack.


    To Lucas¡¯s pack.


    And she was doing it right when he was at his weakest.


    Which meant if Kellen wasn¡¯t sunning herself on a beach somewhere, my mother might be behind her disappearance. The thought that Kellen might be in trouble because of me made me sick. I couldn¡¯t bring this kind of darkness on the people in my life anymore.


    At least I knew now what Mercy had been up to since the last time she¡¯d tried to kill me: building her own little werewolf cult.


    ¡°She should have told you it wouldn¡¯t be that easy to get rid of me.¡±


    Pony-boy gave me a wry smile. ¡°She did.¡±


    ¡°You should have listened.¡±


    Another figure melted out of the darkness, and I was momentarily worried I might be badly outnumbered until I saw it was Holden. He chose a rather fruitful moment to start taking his job as my bodyguard seriously. ¡°You know dogs, Secret. They never listen to instructions unless you give them a treat.¡±


    Hank snarled. ¡°Vampire.¡±


    ¡°Oh, this one speaks,¡± Holden said, delight painting his words in bright, cheery tones that were sorely out of place in the current circumstances. ¡°Have a cookie.¡± He threw a quarter at Hank. The werewolf growled, a purely animal sound.


    The last time Holden and I had been outnumbered by werewolves it hadn¡¯t gone well. But this was two on two, and I¡¯d already taken one of them out. I liked our odds here better than I had in Deliverance country.


    ¡°They were just leaving,¡± I said, my weapon trained on Pony-boy.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see you again,¡± he promised.


    ¡°I look forward to it. I¡¯ll dress up for the occasion, since it¡¯ll be the last thing you idiots ever see.¡±


    I backed away from Ian¡¯s slumped form and let them reclaim their fallen comrade before they slinked off with their tails between their legs.


    ¡°You¡¯re having a productive evening,¡± Holden observed.


    ¡°Never a dull moment.¡±


    Chapter Nine


    My productive evening took me to Mercedes¡¯s police station where Holden and I spent several uneventful¡ªand somewhat tense¡ªhours going through police records to see if any of Kellen¡¯s friends had problematic histories or had recently been arrested.

 Page 8

    Coming up with nothing but dead ends, we left the station with Cedes promising to keep us posted if she came across anything, but I wasn¡¯t holding out too much hope. I rarely found my answers by human means.


    When I walked into my apartment to see Lucas in my living room, I was both relieved and oddly guilt-stricken to still have Holden with me. It was now the second time in as many nights Lucas had seen me with the vampire, and I knew what it looked like. I didn¡¯t know what it was, but I knew what it looked like.


    Lucas appeared a lot better than he had when he barged into Holden¡¯s apartment the night before. He¡¯d shaved and was wearing a clean blue polo shirt and stain-free jeans. He smelled spicy, like all werewolves, but different somehow. I used to love how unique his smell was. Now I wanted it out of my house.


    ¡°Are you out of your mind?¡± I demanded, bypassing all polite forms of greeting. ¡°You¡¯re breaking into people¡¯s apartments on a regular basis now?¡±


    ¡°I had a key.¡±


    ¡°Whose key?¡± I¡¯d given him one once, but I¡¯d made damned sure I got it back.


    ¡°Desmond¡¯s,¡± he confessed. The way he said it made me believe Desmond wasn¡¯t aware his key had been borrowed. Lucas tried to look sheepish, but I wasn¡¯t buying it. He did all sorts of unacceptable bullshit and tried to act apologetic after, but he never stopped doing the wrong thing. He hadn¡¯t learned a single damn lesson. His policy remained¡ªbegging forgiveness is easier than asking permission.


    I was all out of forgiveness.


    ¡°Give me the key.¡±


    Lucas didn¡¯t argue and put the key ring into my outstretched palm. ¡°What, you¡¯re not going to hand it over to him?¡± He angled his chin at Holden.


    My eyes narrowed, and my rage was hot and unstoppable when my lips parted. ¡°He already has one, and he uses it frequently.¡± If my implications had been too subtle for him, I grabbed Holden¡¯s belt and tugged his body close to mine, looping a possessive arm around his torso and giving Lucas a glare that invited him to protest.


    Bless Holden¡¯s perverted soul, he didn¡¯t dispute my territorial claim on him. The problem with what I¡¯d done was that Holden was a shark, and I¡¯d just dumped a bucket of chum in front of him. He hated Lucas and he wanted me, he¡¯d said as much himself. I¡¯d given him the perfect opening for the ultimate fuck you to the wolf king.


    I knew I¡¯d made a mistake the moment I put my hand on his belt, but there was no going back.


    ¡°Oh yes,¡± Holden said with a hot, mischievous grin that made my heart feel a bit wobbly. ¡°Secret loves it when I slip through her back door late at night.¡±


    I fought against the snort trying to escape me and gave him a warning smile. It worked about as well as showing a yellow traffic light to a Ferrari driver. With eyes only for Lucas, Holden jerked me hard against him, and when I started to say something, he merely put my open mouth to good use.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d kissed Holden, and unfortunately it showed.


    When the vampire claimed my mouth with a bruising, eager, too-showy kiss, I returned the embrace. I molded against him, fisting my fingers in his soft shirt and letting a small, telling moan rumble through my throat. Maybe Holden wasn¡¯t the only one being unnecessarily theatrical. He tangled his fingers in my hair and placed a possessive hand on my hip, slipping it low to cup my bottom. When I opened my eyes, his pupils were an oil-colored black, and he dragged his exposed fangs over my swollen lips.


    ¡°Apologies,¡± Holden said, sounding ever so pleased with himself. He grinned, flashing his fangs at Lucas. ¡°I completely forgot you were here.¡±


    I looked at my ex-fianc¨¦ and tried not to appear the least bit guilty about what I¡¯d just done. It was a cruel way to stick the point home, but he had to understand I wasn¡¯t his anymore. Not only that, but I¡¯d never be his again. If he had to believe I was screwing around with Holden to make him get the message, then so be it. I¡¯d do anything short of letting the vampire mount me to keep Lucas from coming around again.


    I still felt sleazy.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I asked, when the bristling silence had stretched into the realm of uncomfortable. Lucas glared at us, his skin red with bottled frustration, blue eyes shiny.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see how far you¡¯d come in looking for Kellen.¡±


    ¡°Since yesterday?¡± It had been only a day since he¡¯d rudely woken me up, and he was already asking for a status report.


    ¡°I wanted to be sure you were taking my request seriously. Obviously I was right to check.¡±


    Now it was my turn to be mad again. ¡°Thank you,¡± I snapped.


    He didn¡¯t know what to do with that. ¡°Thank you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Thank you. For a split fucking second I almost felt like you could be redeemed. That I could forgive you for ruining my life.¡± I spat each word at him, inching closer with every inhalation until I was out of Holden¡¯s grip and in Lucas¡¯s personal bubble. ¡°But you¡¯re doing a bang-up job of reminding me how goddamn easy it is to hate you, you stupid, selfish, son of a bitch.¡±


    Lucas didn¡¯t reply, but our faces were barely an inch apart, and we were both breathing hard, glaring at each other.


    ¡°For your information,¡± I continued, ¡°I have been looking for Kellen, and I have Keaty looking for her too. The reason I¡¯m with him¡­¡± I wheeled around to point at Holden, as if I could mean anyone else, ¡°¡­is because I was attacked by four werewolves on my way home.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Now Lucas¡¯s rage was for someone other than me. I was right to think the rogue wolves were going to be in a heap of trouble when the two kings got hold of them.


    I took a step backwards, out of his space now that the initial anger had simmered down.


    ¡°They claim to be loyalists. To Mercy.¡±


    ¡°Mercy McQueen?¡± Lucas looked as taken aback by this development as I had been. ¡°What claim could your mother possibly have to my throne?¡±


    ¡°From what I gather, she believes she cannot reclaim her rightful place in the south. We both know Callum would sooner eat a pound of his own flesh than to let someone steal his crown. So she¡¯s come looking for someone else¡¯s. That¡¯s the party line, at least.¡±


    The wolf king frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t believe it.¡±


    I shook my head and settled into the space on the loveseat where I¡¯d cuddled with Rio the night before. I was ready for this day to end and climb into my own bed, preferably alone.


    ¡°Mercy can only have one reason to be here. The throne is a way for her to get muscle. Tell people she has rights to being queen¡ªshe has the right name, after all¡ªand promise them power when she gets her crown? Power is the easiest way to motivate someone. It has more appeal than sex. More importance than love.¡± I made sure he was looking at me when I said the last sentence.


    Lucas managed to ignore it. I¡¯d thrown enough jabs at him since he¡¯d been here, what was one more? ¡°You think she¡¯s here for you.¡±


    ¡°I know she¡¯s here for me.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s trying to stake a claim on my throne.¡±


    Holden slipped out of the room, leaving me with the wolf king. There weren¡¯t a lot of places he could hide in the apartment, which meant he was probably in my bedroom. After that showy kiss, I wondered if I¡¯d be spending the night alone after all.


    ¡°We¡¯re constantly trying to prove you¡¯re not a weak king, but since Tuesday you¡¯ve been rolling over and showing your belly all because you¡¯re worried about a human.¡± I wasn¡¯t trying to be cruel now, and we both knew I didn¡¯t think of Kellen as just a human, but he had to see what he was doing. ¡°If ever there was a time outside sources would think your throne was theirs for the taking, it¡¯s now.¡±


    Lucas sat, not next to me, but in the armchair nearby. He looked as worn down and tired as I felt. I didn¡¯t want to empathize with him, but our bond made it impossible to ignore his emotional state. The worse he felt, my emotions mirrored his misery. Awesome.


    ¡°Do you think they took Kellen?¡±


    ¡°It crossed my mind, but it doesn¡¯t feel right.¡±


    ¡°Your mother is batshit crazy. I once watched her try to shred your face with her bare hands. Do you think what¡¯s right applies here?¡±


    My head slumped back, and I propped my feet up on the coffee table. From this point I could see my sword collection mounted above the fireplace. A medieval broadsword; my go-to katana; and recently added, the silver katana I¡¯d kept as a grim reminder of how often I was at the wrong end of a sword. For a while I¡¯d kept the second sword stashed in my closet, but after Desmond left, I decided to put it up.


    Actually, I¡¯d had my friend Nolan hang it since I couldn¡¯t touch silver.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t think Kellen is missing the way you think she is. I wouldn¡¯t put anything past Mercy, but kidnapping isn¡¯t her style. If she wanted to make a point of using Kellen, she¡¯d have cut off assorted body parts and had them delivered to you. She doesn¡¯t do anything half-assed. In my experience, anyway.¡±


    I might not be an expert on my mother, but she had never been what I would call wishy-washy, and kidnapping was a lazy villain¡¯s game. Mercy didn¡¯t take the easy route for anything.


    ¡°Let me worry about Kellen,¡± I said when he didn¡¯t speak again. ¡°You need to talk to Callum and figure out what to do about Mercy. One of her little henchmen was that bigoted asshole, Hank, who we met in St. Francisville.¡±


    ¡°Did you recognize any of the others?¡±


    ¡°No, they weren¡¯t ours.¡± That was what he really wanted to know.


    After another long silence where we neither spoke nor acknowledged each other¡¯s presence, Lucas got to his feet and moved to the door. Before he left, he turned and stared at me until the weight of it forced me to meet his rapt gaze.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I need you to understand how important it is to me that you find her,¡± he said.

 Page 9

    ¡°I get it. You don¡¯t need to remind me eight million times. She¡¯s my friend. I care about her too.¡±


    His hand tightened on the doorknob, making the metal creak. ¡°Finding Kellen is the only priority in your life right now. Is that clear?¡±


    That got me out of my seat like a fire was lit under my ass. ¡°You don¡¯t get to make those decisions. You never got to.¡±


    Lucas opened the door, and when I was sure he was about to leave without trying for the last word, he turned around again. ¡°You can pretend all you want with the vampire, but you and I both know who matters most to you. If my sister isn¡¯t back within a week, Secret, I¡¯ll have Desmond transferred to our office in Los Angeles. Permanently.¡±


    The door closed behind him with a final click.


    As if I¡¯d needed another reason to hate him.


    Chapter Ten


    Inside my bedroom, Holden had been busy.


    Upon seeing what he¡¯d done, I wished I¡¯d kicked him out before Lucas and I went head-to-head. The worst-case scenario I¡¯d imagined was coming in and finding him naked on my comforter, waiting with a leering grin. This was worse.


    He was fully clothed and cleaning.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Holden held up a rumpled silk top and shook it at me accusingly. ¡°This is Cynthia Rowley. What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    To me it was a purple shirt. I understood brand names, even respected their appeal. I¡¯d wondered at women who paid two hundred dollars for a shirt until I owned my first one. Better made, better tailored, just all around better. Having a no-limit credit card didn¡¯t hurt, either. I¡¯d started taking for granted that I owned the finer things in life.


    They were just things.


    Whether my shirt was from Cynthia Rowley or Forever 21 ultimately wasn¡¯t making my life any better or worse, so the shirt was on the floor with everything else I owned.


    When I didn¡¯t reply, Holden shook his head with a disgusted sneer and continued hanging things in the closet. In an order I couldn¡¯t make sense of. I hadn¡¯t even seen him grab some of the clothes from the living room. Damned speedy vampire.


    ¡°I sort of assumed when someone did this, they¡¯d hang them in color order,¡± I observed.


    ¡°Too obvious, and really doesn¡¯t help much.¡± He pointed to the left side of the closet. ¡°Normally, this would go day to evening. For you I had to tweak it since, well¡­no day.¡± Holden smiled at me. I stuck my tongue out in return. ¡°So we went casual to formal. Basically the same idea anyway.¡±


    Sure enough, on the left side were all my nice T-shirts, cropped jackets and jeans, and progressing towards the right came my skirts, dresses and fancy Tribunal duds.


    ¡°Well damn,¡± I said. ¡°Looks good.¡±


    ¡°Of course it looks good.¡±


    I loved seeing these glimpses into the anal-retentive fashion history of Holden Chancery. His job at GQ had ended two decades earlier, and I¡¯d thought his interest in clothing was only a lark, a passing phase as opposed to a life-long dedication. But he obviously cared about this stuff a great deal.


    It was a fantastic distraction from Lucas¡¯s looming ultimatum too.


    As if reading my mind, Holden said, ¡°Your wolf has free will.¡±


    ¡°Free will to send others away on a whim¡ª¡±


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t who I meant when I said your wolf.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Holden sat on the edge of my bed once the last article of clothing had been properly assigned its order and my closet looked amazing. I sat next to him, and he looped a chummy arm around my shoulder. ¡°I know you¡¯re worried, but remember, Desmond can say no.¡±


    I shook my head and nestled into the crook of his neck. ¡°Desmond can say no to Lucas about as much as you can say no to Sig.¡±


    His chuckle vibrated against my cheek. ¡°I can say no to Sig. I just choose not to because I¡¯m fond of the current arrangement of my limbs.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°Then I suppose we had better find the girl.¡±


    ¡°Is that you offering to help?¡±


    Holden kissed my forehead. ¡°I think we both know if I didn¡¯t offer, you¡¯d just force me to do it anyway. I¡¯ve gotten wise to you, love.¡±


    ¡°Since you¡¯re being so helpful, do you want to do my laundry too?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you want me hand washing these?¡± He brought an extended forefinger into my line of sight, and dangling from it was a pair of violet-colored lace panties. I snatched them away from him. ¡°Now don¡¯t be modest, I¡¯ve seen you wearing far less.¡±


    When he reached to grab them back, I wriggled free of his arm and ended up facedown on the mattress, trying to squirm away from his attack. He retaliated by climbing over me so he was straddling my lower back and keeping me pinned to the mattress. I managed to turn underneath him, so at least I was looking up at him instead of away.


    I¡¯d thought it was a game, but now I was wondering what kind of game we were playing.


    He retrieved the underwear from my outstretched hand, his chest against mine and his face so close I could have licked his smooth jaw. Once he¡¯d won the game of keep away, he let my nice La Perla undies slip onto the floor but remained pressed to me. My heart was hammering, and there was no way it was escaping his notice.


    He sniffed my throat, and a shiver thrilled through me. ¡°Holden¡­¡±


    With him on top of me, I didn¡¯t have to question whether or not he wanted me. I knew.


    His thumb traced my lower lip, bringing back a reminder of the kiss we¡¯d recently shared. One more time he lowered his mouth towards mine, but this kiss was soft and delicate. Too sweet to suggest anything else. He withdrew, placing one last kiss at the corner of my lips, then rolled off me.


    ¡°Sunrise,¡± he whispered huskily.


    Had he really been cleaning that long? I let out a wobbly breath I hadn¡¯t known I was holding. Who knew the sun would be the ultimate cock-blocker?


    I awoke with something hard digging into my ribs.


    When I rolled over to lessen the pressure, my head smacked against Holden¡¯s with a comical hollow thonk. I don¡¯t know which of us had the empty brain basket, but the noise was loud enough to imply it was probably both.


    ¡°Guh,¡± Holden said, jerking awake.


    Meanwhile I had discovered the culprit behind the pain in my ribs, and unfortunately there were no Is that a gun poking in my ribs or are you just happy to see me jokes to be made. It was my gun. I¡¯d worn my holster to bed. As often as I¡¯d cursed myself for going somewhere unarmed, perhaps sleeping with a loaded weapon was a bit much.


    My alarm clock said it was pushing nine, meaning we¡¯d slept through sunset and right into night. It meant Friday was almost spent, and I was running out of time to live up to Lucas¡¯s selfish, one-sided threat.


    ¡°I have to see Desmond,¡± I announced.


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily meant for Holden, but he was the only other person in bed with me, so he took it as an invitation to respond. ¡°And tell him what, exactly? ¡®Even though you broke up with me, my other ex is using your life to leverage threats against me¡¯?¡±


    ¡°You make it sound like Lucas is threatening to kill him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s making threats about the future of someone he once claimed to be best mates with. How far off can a death threat be?¡±


    That made a chilly lump form in my belly. Surely Lucas wouldn¡¯t put Desmond¡¯s life in danger.


    Oh, fuck it. What did I really know about what Lucas would and wouldn¡¯t do? I¡¯d thought he was a good man making hard choices. Maybe he had been, once. Now? They say heavy is the head that wears the crown. Lucas¡¯s head was plenty heavy, and it had turned his spine into Jell-O. His big, bloated, ego-saturated head.


    ¡°I have to go,¡± I repeated.


    ¡°Do you want me to come with you?¡±


    ¡°As hilarious as I imagine that conversation would be, I think I¡¯m better off going alone.¡±


    Holden propped himself on his elbows and grinned at me. ¡°Are you sure? I¡¯m really good with dogs.¡±


    I whacked him in the face with one of my big, fluffy pillows.


    ¡°Negative conditioning doesn¡¯t reinforce positive behavior,¡± he remarked through the cotton.


    ¡°Keep it up and I¡¯ll show you real negative conditioning.¡±


    I pulled the pillow away, and he was still smirking like an idiot. ¡°I think I¡¯d like that.¡±


    ¡°You would too.¡±


    Chapter Eleven


    Holden left me to take care of my business, giving me time for my much-needed cold shower.


    By the time I¡¯d washed my hair and changed it was after ten. It would have taken less time, but Holden would have killed me if I¡¯d undone his amazing closet organization less than twenty-four hours after he¡¯d fixed it. I settled on clothes from the middle of the closet, pairing a low-cut short-sleeved red shirt with my dressiest jeans¡ªthe ones with cute nautical button details on the front.


    Not exactly the fiercest ass-kicking ensemble if another pack of werewolves came after me, but I was still armed. My New Year¡¯s resolution had been to not put myself needlessly in danger anymore. It was proving harder to live up to than I¡¯d hoped¡ªwho could account for bayou swamp wolves, really?¡ªbut I was doing my part.


    My part involved wildly expensive silver bullets and lots of them.


    Since my shoulder holster would have shown in stark contrast to the red top, I threw on my leather jacket, dulling the femininity of the outfit about three notches. Oh well. The jacket had seemed brand new a year earlier. Since then I¡¯d been stabbed in it, gone swimming in the Hudson and gotten demon blood on it.


    Now it looked like it had been hard traveled through the front lines of World War II.


    Ballet flats did their best to add a bit of girlish charm back to my look, but honestly I was wearing them because it was often easier to run in them than my high-heeled boots.


    Walking to Desmond¡¯s apartment building took a smidge over half an hour, and it took another ten minutes for me to grow a pair and walk up to the front door. The building he lived in was owned by Rain Real Estate, naturally. Before living with me Desmond had lived in Lucas¡¯s penthouse at Rain Hotel. I was guessing after the wedding, Desmond didn¡¯t feel like living with the wolf king anymore. I couldn¡¯t blame him, seeing as I didn¡¯t want to be in the same room as Lucas, let alone cohabitate with him.

 Page 10

    The only reason I knew where the new apartment was was thanks to Dominick. He¡¯d come by shortly after Desmond moved out to tell me where his brother was living now. Good old Dominick, ever trying to get me back into the Alvarez family. It was a forceful push I was willing to take.


    Unfortunately, the big problem with Desmond living in a Rain building was that all Rain residential properties had a doorman.


    ¡°Help you, miss?¡± The middle-aged man in a fancy suit standing inside the door looked pleasant enough, but I was preparing myself to get kicked to the curb any moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see Desmond Alvarez.¡±


    ¡°Is he expecting you?¡± The man was consulting a list on his computer as he asked me. Reviewing a list of preapproved visitor names.


    ¡°No,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Your name?¡±


    ¡°Secret McQueen.¡±


    The doorman didn¡¯t balk. The folks who worked at Rain Hotel had a thing or two to learn from this guy. A bit more tapping at his computer and then he glanced up with a small smile. An apologetic smile? I held my breath.


    ¡°Of course, Miss McQueen. You can go right up. Seventeen-oh-five.¡± Without further explanation, he hit a buzzer, and the door in front of me made an unlocking sound.


    I walked through like I wasn¡¯t totally shocked.


    Desmond had put me on his list.


    Maybe hope wasn¡¯t lost after all.


    Getting past the front desk was easy. Knocking on Desmond¡¯s door proved to be the hardest part of my night to this point. I lurked out in his hallway like a creep for a good five minutes until finally the door to seventeen-oh-five opened and the man himself leaned against the frame and crossed his arms over his chest, fixing a serious look on me.


    ¡°You know they call from downstairs when a guest arrives, right?¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡± My voice squeaked. Where had the massive lump in my throat come from? Trying again, I said, ¡°I was on the list.¡±


    His lips twitched, betraying the dark look he was trying to project. ¡°I know. I made the list.¡±


    That was all it took. I cleared the space between us in a heartbeat, launching into his arms and hugging him like he had just come off the boat after being away at war. He smelled like only Desmond could smell¡ªclean like fresh linen and woodsy, of cedar, and faintly like sea salt. All that was missing was the taste of lime in my mouth, a sign of our soul-bond. Too bad Lucas had helped sever that tie forever.


    The bond itself was still there, unbreakable, but the taste indicator was gone now. I still tasted it the way a memory can call up all sorts of weird sense responses. I wondered if he could still remember the sugary flavor he used to get from me.


    It killed me, the curiosity of whether or not he missed me as much as I missed him.


    His arms looped around me, tugging me close and expertly avoiding my hidden weapons on his way to threading long fingers through my curls, giving them a familiar, teasing tug. His nose grazed my collarbone, and in doing so the rough stubble of his cheek rubbed against my own smooth one.


    ¡°I missed you,¡± I whispered confessionally.


    ¡°Me too.¡± It was the reply I¡¯d longed to hear, but the heavy sadness with which he said it didn¡¯t strike me as altogether promising.


    Desmond released me, easing me back down to the floor and brushing a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. He looked as sad as he¡¯d sounded. I remained close, touching the spot on his chest where I knew there would be a small bullet scar. Werewolves can usually heal anything, but a silver bullet does permanent damage.


    That bullet had had my name on it, not his.


    He caught my hand and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers. I got the message. He didn¡¯t want to talk about that, or acknowledge it. Not yet, anyway. Fair enough.


    ¡°Come in, let me show you around.¡±


    Around his new house. The home he was making without me. I wanted to say no and insist he come back to our apartment. Instead I nodded and followed him through the open door.


    His new living room could have held my entire basement suite with some wiggle room to spare. He was on a low-enough level to warrant a balcony, and the back wall of the apartment was all big windows and sliding glass doors. It looked like he had a barbeque and some lounge chairs outside, but the reflection of the interior lights made it hard to tell for sure.


    There was a large, cozy-looking brown sectional couch in the living room facing a huge TV with a baseball game playing.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it a bit late for a game?¡± I teased.


    ¡°Yankees are in Seattle. Game just started, actually.¡± As if to illustrate the point, the announcer on TV made a joke about all the diehard Yankees fans who had to stay up late to watch West Coast games.


    I knew few Yankees fans more diehard than Desmond. If there was a top five list of things Desmond loved most in life it would be his family, the pack, me, the Yankees and sex. I wasn¡¯t sure if I ranked above the Yankees anymore.


    ¡°How do you feel about the Dodgers?¡± I asked, by way of segueing into the reason I¡¯d come.


    ¡°National League?¡± His nose wrinkled up. ¡°I¡¯d become a Kansas City Royals fan before I started rooting for an NL team.¡± His jab at the expense of one of the worst American League teams wasn¡¯t making this any easier.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell that to Lucas. He might get some ideas about sending you to Missouri instead.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± With a hand on the small of my back, he guided me to the couch and took a seat right beside me rather than on the opposite side of the L shape.


    ¡°You know Kellen is gone, right?¡±


    He picked up the beer from its coaster on the coffee table and pointed to it as an offer. I shook my head. He spoke cautiously. ¡°Yeah, of course. But I also know Kellen. She¡¯ll turn up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I said, but Lucas has gone off the deep end. He¡¯s convinced something has happened to her.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been strung somewhat¡­tight lately. I¡¯m sure Kellen is just toying with him. She was pissed about what he did to you. This is how she would retaliate best.¡±


    I slid the ballet flats off and kicked them under the table before pulling my feet up under me on the couch. ¡°You¡¯re not telling me anything I didn¡¯t tell him. Except maybe the revenge part. He didn¡¯t look like he could handle thinking she would do that to him.¡±


    ¡°He went to see you, then?¡± The words were more than a little curious. He wanted to know how my visit with Lucas had gone, though what his reasons were I couldn¡¯t tell.


    I thought it was better to lump both visits into one, rather than admitting to Desmond that Lucas had first found me in bed with Holden. ¡°He asked for my help, which I was more than happy to give. I mean, I love Kellen.¡± Desmond nodded but didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°But then he took it a step further, in true Lucas fashion.¡±


    ¡°Sounds right. What did he do?¡±


    ¡°He said if I don¡¯t find Kellen within a week, he¡¯ll transfer you to the Los Angeles office permanently.¡±


    Desmond stopped mid-drink, choking on his mouthful of beer. Perhaps I should have timed my big reveal better. ¡°He said what?¡±


    Without waiting for him to stop sputtering, I recounted the story of encountering Mercy¡¯s minions, the case of Petey Giambi, and all the things I had on my plate that had nothing to do with finding a missing heiress. Desmond toyed with the label on his beer bottle while he listened, and then when he finally sensed me winding down, he set the bottle on the table and placed a big, warm hand on my knee.


    ¡°He won¡¯t do it.¡±


    ¡°How can you be sure?¡± I found it hard to look directly at him, considering how nice he was being to me. It was because of me he was being threatened with an unwanted move. So much of what was shitty about his life was my fault.


    ¡°You know how Lucas is. He¡¯s the most spoiled toddler in the sandbox, and if he doesn¡¯t get his way, he packs up his toys and goes home. He¡¯s acting like I¡¯m a toy in his sandbox, but he¡¯s overlooking one of the most important details. There¡¯s no way he can send me away without undermining his own power structure.¡±


    I gave him a perplexed look.


    ¡°His own wife refuses to be in the same room with him,¡± he continued, making me flinch. ¡°His third in command defied his rule so completely she had to be sent to Siberia. One of his alphas tried to seize his throne via violent uprising.¡± With each new point, he ticked off another finger on his hand. ¡°He isn¡¯t in a position to send me away. Without having his second beside him, he¡¯ll lose all respect for his leadership. No one will believe he¡¯s a fit king. In short¡­he¡¯s talking out his ass.¡±


    I frowned, my brows knitting together. I didn¡¯t like to be threatened. I liked idle threats even less. If Lucas thought this was going to boost my esteem for him in any way, he had another thing coming. And that thing was going to be my size-seven foot planted firmly up his royal tush.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill him,¡± I said.


    ¡°You won¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I really want to.¡±


    Desmond got off the couch and disappeared from the room. Rustling and clinking told me he¡¯d gone into the kitchen, and when he returned, he handed me an open bottle of Bud Lite Lime. I made a face at him. ¡°Girl beer?¡±


    ¡°First¡­you¡¯re a girl. Second, it¡¯s summer beer. I¡¯m getting a head start.¡±


    He propped his feet on the coffee table and tapped his own bottle against the one I was grimacing at. I caved in and took a sip. The faint limey taste of the beer reminded me of him in such a painful way it almost made my eyes water.


    ¡°Des¡­¡±


    ¡°Shh, Jeter is up to bat.¡± He pointed to the TV.


    ¡°Oh, fuck Jeter.¡±


    The werewolf at my side gave me a wide-eyed look of faux shock. ¡°Heathen.¡±


    ¡°This is serious.¡±


    ¡°And a man with over three thousand career hits isn¡¯t? It¡¯s Derek Jeter.¡±


    I kicked his thigh playfully, and he caught my foot, pulling it into his lap as smoothly as any natural habit. The future Hall of Fame batter in question got his three-thousand-and-somethingth career base hit while I stared at Desmond across the space of a few inches.

 Page 11

    ¡°He can¡¯t take you away. Not again.¡±


    Desmond gave my foot a squeeze. ¡°No, he can¡¯t.¡± Alex Rodriguez scored a grand slam, making the score an embarrassing 7-0 against the poor Mariners. All in the top of the third inning. Desmond was trying to be serious, but he could barely suppress his yip of joy. And that, in a nutshell, was why I loved him so much. Someone was threatening to completely uproot his life, and he still took the time to delight in his favorite team trampling another.


    When he looked back at me, he saw something that made him mute the television. ¡°You¡¯re really worried about this, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t lose you,¡± I replied.


    He didn¡¯t point out I¡¯d already lost him. There were no bonus painful reminders that he¡¯d left me and was obviously rebuilding himself with a new life, in a better apartment, with a promising future having nothing to do with my dark, scary world. His new home had windows. He couldn¡¯t have windows with me.


    Gently, he cupped my chin so I had to meet his serious gaze. The violet-gray eyes I loved more than any other single part of him were cloudy and intense. ¡°He¡¯s made this threat before,¡± Desmond reminded me. ¡°I¡¯m still here.¡±


    He was so close I could have licked my lips and touched his. Our breath mingled, smelling of light beer and limes, and it wasn¡¯t unpleasant at all. Instead it reminded me of summer and the former taste of his lips. I couldn¡¯t have that memory fresh in my mind and not act on it.


    I closed the distance between us, placing a frantic, desperate kiss on his parted lips. He let out a small moan, either a noise of surprise or pleasure, and pulled back a moment later. He looked dazed and uncertain, my chin still cupped in his palm.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t think,¡± I whispered, my voice gone thick. I slid closer to him¡ªit was easy to do with my foot already in his lap. Soon I was straddling him and his hand had slipped to the back of my neck, angling my head towards his. I thought he¡¯d fight me, but he wasn¡¯t. He was yielding in a way I¡¯d only dreamed he might. It was too easy, but I didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°Secret¡­¡±


    I was unbuttoning his shirt, shushing his words with fluttery kisses every time he opened his mouth. ¡°I love you.¡± Nothing I¡¯d ever said had been as true as those words in that moment. ¡°I need you.¡±


    One of his big hands squeezed my thigh, making me feel small. The other hand held my head effortlessly, forcing my gaze to meet his. The same intensity flooded his eyes, but there was something hot there now. Desire eclipsed rage, turning his eyes almost solid purple. Need plucked at my insides, demanding I make this happen before anything stopped us, like common sense.


    ¡°I need you,¡± I repeated, sliding my hands into his unbuttoned shirt, my fingers finding the smooth circle of flesh where his chest hair no longer grew. It was the size of a quarter and felt cool to the touch in contrast to the flushed skin around its perimeter.


    He growled, a sound I wasn¡¯t used to hearing from Desmond.


    ¡°You still smell like him,¡± he said. He meant Lucas. The werewolf marriage ceremony left his impression all over me as a giant Fuck off, this is mine signal to any wolf who might think I was fair game. That mark was why Desmond had left. Basically Lucas had taken a big metaphysical whizz all over my aura, staking his claim.


    Instead of letting him pull away, I twined my fingers through his short hair and clamped down, making sure he was looking at me this time.


    ¡°I¡¯m not his.¡±


    ¡°You smell¡ª¡±


    It was my turn to growl, and I bit his lower lip before speaking again. ¡°If you don¡¯t want me to smell like him, make me smell like you,¡± I instructed.


    For a moment I thought he might refuse.


    Then I was on my back on the coffee table.


    Chapter Twelve


    Our forgotten beers flew off the table and onto the floor.


    I gave up fumbling with his shirt buttons and had gone instead to the belt buckle digging into my pelvis. He shucked off my jacket and sent it flying over the couch, then pulled me abruptly into a sitting position, my ass on the edge of the low wood table.


    ¡°Take that off,¡± he said, his voice husky and commanding.


    At first I thought he meant my shirt, but then I realized I was still wearing my holster and gun. Carefully I removed the leather straps and did a quick check to make sure the weapon was safetied before placing it on the couch rather than having it thrown somewhere. The second I had the gun out of my hands, he was untucking my shirt and pulling it over my head. I undid the last of his shirt buttons and pushed it off his shoulders before I tugged his belt free of the loops on his pants with a flourish.


    With his shirt off, I could see the scar on his chest. A small, near-perfect circle slightly puckered on the edges where the silvery skin was still pink. I touched it, reaching out slowly to give him plenty of time to pull away or move my hand. He didn¡¯t. Instead he stopped what he was doing and watched as the pad of my thumb brushed the smooth circle of flesh.


    In response he touched a matching silver scar on my shoulder, making me shiver. He leaned me back onto the coffee table again, his mouth finding the scar on my stomach where I¡¯d been run through by the katana which now hung over my fireplace. My collection of permanent scars was more impressive than his, but for some reason the little circle on his chest hurt me worse than any of my wounds had.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, placing a kiss on the scar.


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°You could have died.¡± He was busy undoing my pants, but he went still when I said it.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t. And neither did you.¡± He said it in such a way that I knew we were done with this topic. I hated how he¡¯d been hurt because of me, but he considered it worthwhile because I was alive.


    I pulled him against me so his bare skin touched mine and neither of our scars was showing. For a moment I just wanted to hold him close and feel him breathe with me the way we used to when we slept in the same bed night after night. I¡¯d missed the sex, absolutely. But I¡¯d missed him more. His warm skin, his scent, the cadence of his breathing. Every tiny fiber that made him Desmond was something I had craved like oxygen since he¡¯d left.


    Finally, when I thought I might break down and cry from the overwhelming emotion of what being near him was doing to me, I bit his earlobe and whispered, ¡°Take off your pants.¡±


    He was up in a heartbeat, kicking off his work pants and socks, which made me chuckle warmly. He pinned me with a warning expression. ¡°You won¡¯t be laughing long.¡±


    Biting my lip, I fought the urge to tease him more, but with him looming over me it was almost impossible to find anything to laugh at. His skin was olive over the perfectly toned planes of his body. His legs and arms were corded with muscle, and his abs might as well come with a Lick Me sign attached to them. The dark hair over his chest formed a thin trail down his stomach, begging my eyes to follow from his bellybutton to the low waist of his black boxer briefs. The cotton on his underwear was straining dramatically, and I got wetter just looking at him.


    My mouth was dry and my tongue thick. I couldn¡¯t have made fun of him if I wanted to. I didn¡¯t want to. The only desire left in me was to have him inside me in every way imaginable, as fast as possible.


    ¡°Get up,¡± he said.


    I did without hesitation. I thought he might take me on the coffee table, it felt sturdy enough, but he had a different idea in mind. Once I was standing, he lifted me right off the floor and slung me over his shoulder in a fireman¡¯s carry. Instead of being surprised¡ªafter all, he¡¯d done this to me before¡ªI took advantage of my position by slipping my hands into his underwear and giving his ass a squeeze while running my tongue along the beautiful toned V on his lower back above the waistband of his boxers. Before my tongue was allowed to explore anything farther south I was in the air and tumbling backwards. I landed on a soft down duvet and he was on top of me, giving me no time to have a look around his dark bedroom.


    His natural scent was mingled with something headier now, a musk I recognized as desire. Instead of giving any more instructions or speaking at all, he removed my panties without hesitation and undid my bra with one looped finger, tossing both aside in turn. When he knelt over me, I slid his own underwear off, leaving him bare and hard in front of me.


    My mouth wasn¡¯t dry anymore.


    Closing my lips over the head of his cock, I lowered my head with aching slowness, savoring every moment. I¡¯d never thought I¡¯d be able to taste him again, and I wanted to remember every second of it. My tongue caressed each curve and hollow, circling his head as I withdrew, holding suction until the end.


    ¡°Jesus,¡± he whispered. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want to kill me.¡±


    I cast my eyes upwards, watching him as I lowered my head again. This time he seized my hair roughly and pulled my mouth out of reach. He couldn¡¯t stop my hands though, and one palm cupped his balls while the other wrapped around his rigid shaft, which was still damp from my saliva. His mouth formed a thin line.


    ¡°You¡¯re asking for trouble,¡± he warned.


    ¡°Then stop me,¡± I replied, squeezing his balls with gentle pressure.


    ¡°Turn over.¡± He growled the words and flipped me onto my hands and knees before I had time to comply with his instructions on my own. He placed a palm between my shoulders and gave a commanding push. I put my arms under the pillows and dropped so my upper body was pressed flush against the comforter.


    My hair clung to my face from the sweat beading on my skin, so I couldn¡¯t see him, just felt his hands grasp my hips and tug them higher until my ass was snug against his pelvis, the hard length of him nestled between my cheeks. I let out a shaky breath as he traced a path down my back and then up to my neck again. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and twisted it around his wrist, jerking my head up so I was looking over my shoulder at him.


    With his other hand he guided himself to my opening, and the head of his cock slipped in easily. It had been long enough without him inside me that the size of him felt surprising. Even as wet as I was I gasped when he thrust inside me all the way on the first stroke. One hand held my head in place, and he watched me carefully as he drove into me again, waiting for me to tell him to stop or give him any instruction whatsoever.

 Page 12

    A shudder of pleasure vibrated through me, making me tighten around him, and his eyes closed reflexively. I was usually the one taking charge in bed, but tonight he was claiming me, and I wanted to let him. He released my hair, but I kept watching him. Grabbing my hips with both hands now, he pounded into me like he was taking my challenge seriously. Whatever part of me had been marked by Lucas, Desmond was trying to fuck it out of me.


    As his thrusts grew fast and frenzied, he withdrew suddenly, causing me to cry out from the unexpected emptiness, pulling me back from an edge I¡¯d been about to plummet over. He turned me over so I was looking up at him properly, relieving the kink in my neck, and lowered his mouth, claiming my nipple with lips and teeth as he drove into me again. I moaned with the sensation of both actions at once, and he resumed his previous efforts.


    When I was panting desperately and forming words that weren¡¯t English, he released my nipple and seized my mouth in a hot, needy kiss. His tongue slid over mine, coaxing it into his mouth, and he nipped at my lips with his teeth before caressing each bite with his tongue. Each time I tried to scream out from the feeling of him inside me, he deepened the kiss, until we were reduced to frenzied mingling, parts of each other seeking ownership over bodies that weren¡¯t our own.


    He won the battle when his hand slid down my stomach and he circled my clitoris with his rough thumb, turning my whole body to liquid heat. I tried to tell him I was coming, but I simply yelped. I was melting under him, and just when I thought I might disappear completely from the intensity, he bit down on my nipple hard while his thumb continued to work me and his thrusts reached a fever pitch.


    I was aflame, every part of my body too hot to touch, too burnt to be contained by skin.


    I bit down on his shoulder. I had only meant to anchor myself to something solid, but when I broke skin and tasted blood, everything blew. My vision shattered in bright flashes of green, and the lost flavor of lime filled my mouth, carried on his blood. We came in the same moment, and my bite drew the orgasms out past a second or two and into several uninterrupted minutes of sensory-dulling pleasure.


    When I forced myself to pull away and lick the wound to seal it, Desmond flopped down on top of me. He was breathing so hard he might as well have just finished running a marathon. I might have been breathing hard myself, but it was impossible to tell since my breath seemed mingled with his.


    It took another five minutes before either of us were able to speak, and when Desmond opened his eyes, there was a ring of bright green around the outside of his iris.


    ¡°Your eyes,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Your eyes. They¡¯re practically gold.¡±


    ¡°Yours are green.¡±


    ¡°Is that what it¡¯s like¡­? Biting?¡±


    I tried to shake my head, but it still felt heavy. Instead I took his hand and wove my fingers between his. ¡°Not always. But sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Was it like that with Lucas?¡± He knew I¡¯d bitten Lucas before, but I¡¯d never told him I¡¯d bitten Lucas during sex. I guess it was a fair assumption for him to make.


    I kissed his fingertips, and his skin burned under my lips. ¡°No,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°It¡¯s never been like that with anyone but you.¡±


    Chapter Thirteen


    I was probably reading too much into things when I noticed Desmond¡¯s bedroom didn¡¯t have any windows. The pity of it all was that even without windows, I wasn¡¯t going to be able to sleep over. I also wasn¡¯t stupid enough to believe that one hot night would be all it took to fix our fractured relationship.


    Baby steps, though. And this one had felt like it was in the right direction.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± he asked, his voice still lazy and raw from our romp in the sack.


    After I¡¯d retrieved my clothes from the living room and hunted around his dark bedroom floor for my missing underpants, I sat next to him and brushed a kiss over his cheek. His skin remained hot to the touch.


    ¡°Oh, you know. Find a missing heiress. Figure out if my fairy godmother is a psycho killer. The usual.¡±


    ¡°Let me help.¡± He sat up, the sheet covering his lower body slipping away, and he swung his legs off the side of the bed. Any resolve I had to leave began to fade with every new inch of him made visible. I swallowed hard.


    ¡°Help me how?¡± I tore my gaze away from his crotch and looked at his face instead. It didn¡¯t help my plans any. He could wear a parka and I¡¯d still get woozy looking at him. Love drunk. That was the best way to describe it.


    ¡°You need to find Kellen. Lucas threatened you with banishing me, but he never said I couldn¡¯t help you, did he?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I was willing to bet Lucas didn¡¯t think I¡¯d tell Desmond about his threat.


    ¡°I can help you find Kellen.¡±


    ¡°What makes you think you can find her when no one else can?¡±


    Desmond gave me a sardonic smirk. I knew perfectly well why he was being so cocky about his odds. Kellen herself had confessed to me once about her teenaged crush on Desmond. He was banking on her former lusty feelings to give him the upper hand in the search.


    Sad thing was, he was probably spot-on in his logic.


    Kellen was, after all, a simple creature.


    And Desmond had only gotten better with age.


    My phone rang shortly after midnight, and caller ID informed me I should expect some sort of tongue-lashing from Keaty when I picked up. I hit the answer button on the touchscreen and braced myself for yelling. I wasn¡¯t sure why. Keaty wasn¡¯t a yeller, nor had I done anything to deserve being yelled at. All the same, I was getting pretty accustomed to people shouting at me lately.


    ¡°Keaty?¡±


    ¡°Am I interrupting anything?¡±


    I gave Desmond a surreptitious glace, worried Keaty could somehow tell what I¡¯d been up to recently. At the moment, however, Desmond was driving us towards Kellen¡¯s apartment complex on Central Park West, and I wasn¡¯t actually up to no good.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°A shame. I thought perhaps you might be working.¡±


    ¡°Oh, my bad. I thought you meant anything important.¡± My pause gave me plenty of time to imagine Keaty¡¯s humorless scowl. ¡°I¡¯m working. Don¡¯t freak out.¡±


    ¡°Good, then you have time to hear about a call I got from a young woman named Becca Trout?¡±


    Becca? It took me a second to remember the bubble-gum-snapping girl from Papa John¡¯s. The card I¡¯d given her last night had been a number for our office line, so it made sense Keaty would be the one around to get the call rather than me.


    ¡°What did she say?¡±


    ¡°Do you have a pen¡­? Oh, wait, you won¡¯t need one. She listed a few dozen regular customers. A cursory background check on them turned up little of interest, just some obese families and a fraternity house. But I think the one that will prove to be unsurprising to both of us was the regularity with which a certain coffeehouse called for pizzas.¡±


    ¡°Calliope¡¯s Starbucks?¡± I asked, not like I needed confirmation.


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    A heavy sigh slipped from my mouth, making Desmond look over, his brows arched in concern. He knew the story, so my words had to be helping him put the pieces together on his own.


    ¡°We have to be careful with this one,¡± I told Keaty.


    ¡°Because our suspect now knows we suspect her?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not a hundred percent convinced she did it. Once I¡¯m sure, I¡¯ll figure out how to confront her. But the thing is, we can¡¯t kill her.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t, or won¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°No, I mean can¡¯t. She¡¯s half-god, Keaty. True immortal. She doesn¡¯t even live in our reality. If she¡¯s killing humans, I don¡¯t honestly know if we can stop her.¡±


    My partner made a sound that was awfully close to a laugh, except there was far too much cruelty in it to consider it the same thing. ¡°Secret. There¡¯s no such thing as immortality.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡±


    ¡°No. Everything that lives can die. Even your half-fae friend. Remember, Jesus was the son of God. Look how far it got him.¡± The line went dead.


    ¡°That sounded¡­ominous,¡± Desmond said.


    Slipping the phone inside my pocket, I tried to fake a smile. ¡°Isn¡¯t it always?¡±


    We were at Kellen¡¯s apartment building, and Desmond found a spot a few blocks down. On our walk from the car, an awkward silence hung between us. Funny how someone can fuck you five ways from Sunday, but then you don¡¯t know how to make small talk anymore. Thankfully we didn¡¯t have far to go.


    Since Desmond and I were both on the guest list at Kellen¡¯s apartment, we should have had no problem getting in. Too bad we had the Gestapo version of a doorman to deal with tonight.


    ¡°Miss Rain is not in,¡± Herr Doorman told us.


    ¡°Oh, we know. We¡¯ll just wait for her upstairs.¡± I flashed him my sweetest, most innocent smile. Based on his response it was about as convincing as a pit viper saying I¡¯ll make a great nanny.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that will not be possible.¡±


    ¡°I have a key,¡± Desmond volunteered.


    This was news to me. Interrupting my staring contest with the chubby real estate gatekeeper, I looked at Desmond out of the corner of my eye. He didn¡¯t miss it, judging by the sweet, apologetic smile he gave me. The look was telling. Just go with it.


    Herr Doorman huffed and rubbed his belly thoughtfully.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t I call Mister Rain,¡± Desmond suggested, whipping out his cellphone.


    Genius. I hadn¡¯t considered bluffing with the big-brother card, because if I was called on it, I¡¯d actually have to talk to the son of a bitch. The doorman¡¯s eyes bugged, and he scrambled to get the interior entrance open for us. ¡°My apologies. It won¡¯t be necessary to bother Mr. Rain at this late hour. Please go in.¡±


    I didn¡¯t speak until we were in the elevator. ¡°A key?¡±


    Putting his arm around my shoulder, he gave me a friendly squeeze. ¡°You think you¡¯d be able to tell by now when I¡¯m lying.¡±


    ¡°Either I never could, or you¡¯re getting better at it.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if either sounded like a winning option.

 Page 13

    ¡°Or I just never lied to you.¡±


    The ding of the elevator opening kept me from having to come up with a response. Kellen had one of three apartments on the twenty-first floor. She might not have had the fanciest digs in the Rain clan, but she had the poshest address by far. Lucas must have paid a premium to set Kellen up with the Central Park West address.


    I doubt he¡¯d batted an eyelash since it meant there were dozens of city blocks between his SoHo penthouse and his sister¡¯s behavior. Funny how he was only interested in what Kellen was doing when he didn¡¯t have it constantly bombarding him in the press.


    Come to think of it, if Kellen was in Ibiza or Cozumel or wherever she chose to sun herself these days, wouldn¡¯t we have seen something on Page Six? The New York gossip column worshipped at the altar of Kellen¡¯s antics, featuring at least a story a week on one of her breakups, makeups or hookups. So why hadn¡¯t I seen a photo of her tongue-tied with a Greek oil baron or a Middle Eastern prince?


    Desmond was using a credit card to pick Kellen¡¯s lock when I came up behind him. Gently I pushed him to the side and pulled a bobby pin out of my hair. I¡¯d started to wear them more frequently in recent months, having discovered how handy they could be. The folks at Goody could make a killing if they did a new campaign: Keeps bangs out of your eyes. Creates fancy updos. Picks locks in seconds. Maybe that last one was only a selling feature for a niche market, but I was putting it to good use.


    One of the many questionable skills I¡¯d learned from my human mentor.


    It took a half-minute longer than it normally would have because Desmond kept questioning where I¡¯d learned to do the various and sundry illegal activities I demonstrated a gift for.


    ¡°Some teenage girls learn to put on slutty makeup and read sex tips in Cosmo. I learned to pick locks and kill vampires.¡± The lock clicked open as if to illustrate my point, and I turned the knob while repinning my bangs. I¡¯d have to get a haircut soon, but there were a lot of other things on my to-do list above trim bangs. Simple stuff. 1. Find missing ex-sister-in-law-to-be. 2. Win back ex-boyfriend. 3. Find out if immortal beneficiary is homicidal maniac. 4. Tribunal session.


    ¡°Oh fuck.¡± I thumped my fist against the doorframe.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We need to hurry. I may or may not be two hours late to a Tribunal meeting.¡±


    Chapter Fourteen


    Kellen¡¯s apartment told us practically nothing except that she was more of a slob than I was.


    She¡¯d recently gotten a phone call from a club called Eleven-B. There was no message, but it was the only unfamiliar message on her home phone and it came on Sunday. Something to look at once I got the noose of a Tribunal session off my neck.


    I had no time to change, and I knew I¡¯d catch hell for it, but it was either show up casual or not show up at all.


    When I burst through the double doors leading into the Tribunal chambers, the look Juan Carlos gave me implied I might have been better off choosing the not at all option.


    ¡°Honestly, Secret.¡± Sig, the leader of the Tribunal, looked ten times more casual than I did, considering he wasn¡¯t wearing a shirt. Or shoes. I didn¡¯t think he was chiding my wardrobe, however.


    ¡°I know, I know. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You will be,¡± Juan Carlos muttered. I ignored him. Muted threats were all he had, since it was completely forbidden for him to lay a hand on me. Unfortunately the same was true in reverse, because I had a silver katana at home I¡¯d love to introduce him to the business end of.


    ¡°Might it be possible,¡± Sig continued, ¡°for you to take this position seriously? Maybe even for a week straight?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a busy week.¡±


    ¡°A busy week in a busy month,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re well aware.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± So the busy excuse wasn¡¯t going to fly. Not that I¡¯d thought it would.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here.¡± When Juan Carlos spoke to me, he tended to look right through me, but this time he was meeting my gaze directly, and it gave me the willies. His cleft upper lip sneered more than usual, and he looked¡­pleased.


    Shit.


    The Spanish third of our Tribunal was never happy, and I didn¡¯t like that his satisfaction was being aimed in my direction. It freaked me out. I moved to take my seat next to Sig, but the Finnish master vampire raised a hand to stop me.


    ¡°We¡¯re going for a walk.¡±


    The last time Sig had taken me for a walk in the council headquarters I hadn¡¯t enjoyed it much. Unfortunately then, as I suspected would be true now, the walk wasn¡¯t optional. Nothing was really optional with Sig.


    Sig rose, all six and a half feet of pale blondness and lean muscle. He was imposing as hell, but I¡¯d learned not to fear him. Or, more accurately, I¡¯d learned fearing him was a pointless endeavor. If he was going to kill me, it was inevitable, so why fear it?


    My throat constricted. I¡¯d almost convinced myself of my bravery until he put a hand on my shoulder and guided me back towards the entrance.


    ¡°Am I fired?¡± I asked, trying to lighten the mood.


    ¡°You know that¡¯s impossible.¡±


    ¡°So¡­what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re taking you to Monica.¡±


    I stopped walking so abruptly Sig bumped against my back. ¡°No.¡± Just that. A flat no.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a discussion.¡±


    ¡°In fact, it¡¯s long overdue,¡± added Juan Carlos. Now the source of his pleasure was evident.


    ¡°Sig, no.¡± I gave him an imploring look, begging him with my eyes when my words had obviously failed me. I couldn¡¯t say more, not in front of Juan Carlos. But Sig knew what I really was. He had to understand why this was a terrible idea.


    ¡°We were willing to look the other way with your wedding to the wolf king,¡± Juan Carlos said, his tone thick with disgust. ¡°Though God knows why you dirty yourself with their kind. You smell of one even now.¡± His lip curled. ¡°But getting your name all over the papers? You¡¯re bringing dangerous attention to us. Monica will know if you can be trusted.¡±


    ¡°I can be trusted.¡± I refused to move forward again, turning my gaze from Juan Carlos to Sig. ¡°Please. Please don¡¯t do this.¡±


    ¡°If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear from Monica.¡±


    Monica wasn¡¯t her real name. Her real name was old Sumerian and so hard to pronounce they¡¯d had to come up with something new vampires could say without offending her. She¡¯d chosen Monica. Said it would be easy to remember. Sig told me she¡¯d thought this was the height of comedy a thousand years earlier. Sig was the only vampire to have known Monica when she went by her original name.


    He was the one who¡¯d told me I should never be alone with her.


    That was six years ago when I¡¯d been only seventeen.


    The vampire was the oldest in memory. So old no one knew her true age, and she wasn¡¯t volunteering it, but I bet she and Calliope could have a good laugh about their memories of the construction of the pyramids.


    She and the Oracle had something else in common. They both had very peculiar gifts.


    Calliope could look at someone and see their future.


    Monica was the vampire version of a lie detector. She could taste someone¡¯s blood and know the whole history of their life. I didn¡¯t want her tasting my blood. Ever.


    It was a miracle that to this point the only council vampires who¡¯d figured out what I was were Holden and Sig. Everyone else believed I was a half-vampire who worked with¡ªand sometimes dated¡ªwerewolves. That I¡¯d killed a wolf or two in my time worked in my favor to uphold this lie, because a pack wolf almost never kills another of their kind. The inner workings of the werewolf pack would be a total mystery to the vampire council. In the twenty-two years of my life pre-Lucas I had know diddly squat about royal family lines and pack politics.


    Vampires thought werewolves were sub-human. Worthless. They couldn¡¯t be bothered to learn about them, because they didn¡¯t matter. Holden¡¯s disdain of wolves wasn¡¯t a rarity, it was the norm. And that opinion had kept me alive because it kept them from looking too hard at me.


    But Monica didn¡¯t care about vampire discrimination against other supernatural species.


    One drop of my blood and she¡¯d know why I was so involved with the wolves.


    And it was all because of Lucas. If we¡¯d gotten married like two normal people, the event would have been in and out of the papers and people would have stopped caring after a few days. News like that doesn¡¯t register to vampires.


    Three weeks of reports on what I was going to do with the gifts, whether or not I¡¯d return the engagement ring, or how much the damage to the Columbia Hotel had cost¡­well, it was apparently more than they could overlook. That was three weeks of Secret McQueen puns in the paper, and they¡¯d really loved my name in the press. In the days before the ceremony they¡¯d been quips like The Once and Future McQueen. Lucas¡¯s Not-so-Secret Love. Afterwards, my personal favorite had been The Secret¡¯s Out¡ªA Day Without Rain is Bad Luck After All. Clever.


    Lucas had screwed me royally, in every way possible.


    I just never thought my life would be forfeit for it.


    ¡°Sig.¡± I was fighting back panicked tears, trying not to fall into abject terror in front of Juan Carlos. Sig touched the bare skin at the back of my neck, and a sense of ease trickled through me. His false brand of personal well-being hadn¡¯t been what I was asking for, but when I felt my worry slipping away, I didn¡¯t complain.


    ¡°It will be fine,¡± he said, his ice-blue gaze locked on mine. ¡°Just a precaution.¡±


    I dared a glance at Juan Carlos. He looked delighted. Delighted.


    Of course he would. He¡¯d finally have the ammunition he needed to not only prove I didn¡¯t deserve to sit on the Tribunal, but he¡¯d somehow figure out a way for me to pay the ultimate price for this, I had no doubt about it.


    There were no rules in the council that said a Tribunal leader couldn¡¯t be half-werewolf. But I¡¯d seen how the council treated me when they believed I was merely half-human. That my blood was mingled with something as lowly as a werewolf?

 Page 14

    Fucked. I was so very, very fucked.


    Chapter Fifteen


    For obvious reasons, I¡¯d never been to Monica¡¯s chamber. Nor had I ever met her. I didn¡¯t have to know her to fear her. Plenty of kids were afraid of the boogeyman, and plenty of adults were afraid of God. Monica fell somewhere in the middle.


    I had no idea what to expect when I met her. Perhaps an old crone or a beautiful woman. There was no way to know, but whatever I¡¯d guessed or suspected, it wasn¡¯t what I was greeted with when Sig led me through a pristine white door.


    The room was big and clean with a large four-poster bed against one wall and a circular rug in the middle with a pastel flower print on it. On a dresser next to the door was an enormous Victorian dollhouse, complete with working lights. The walls had been opened, and inside, all the small figurines were standing alone facing the corners of their rooms.


    Creepy.


    Sitting on a chair in the far part of the room was a small girl with chocolate-colored skin and tight curly hair pulled into two puffy buns on either side of her head. She couldn¡¯t have been more than eight or nine years old, and she was working on an intricately detailed cross-stitch. Her speed was dizzying.


    When she looked up, I gasped.


    Her eyes were white, no iris or pupil, just the flat, empty white of a corpse. She was looking at us, but it was apparent she wasn¡¯t seeing us. Monica was completely blind, except where it mattered. The girl smiled, and her fangs showed.


    ¡°Ah, the Tribunal, together at last.¡± Her voice had a sweet, childlike tone, but her words spoke of maturity and wisdom. This was one freaky vampire. It didn¡¯t escape my notice that Juan Carlos¡¯s bravado faded when we entered the room, and he hung back near the door.


    Sig, on the other hand, crossed the distance from the entrance to Monica¡¯s chair in a few long-legged strides, stooping over to kiss her small hand. ¡°A pleasure as always. You look younger every time I see you.¡± His tone was as warm as melting butter.


    Monica threw her head back and laughed, her tiny fangs gleaming. ¡°You devilish flirt. Don¡¯t think this will make me forget your sins, Sigvard.¡±


    The only other person who¡¯d ever called Sig by his human name was Calliope. Apparently you had to be older than democracy in order to get a pass on that one. ¡°I would never ask you to forget.¡± He was smiling, but there was a chill in his gaze. What kind of secrets had she seen in his past?


    Ones I probably didn¡¯t want to know about.


    ¡°You¡¯ve brought me our unusual new leader?¡±


    Sig looked to me and crooked a finger, indicating I should come. I was happier next to Juan Carlos near the door, but it didn¡¯t seem like this was an invitation so much as a command. Slowly I made my way towards Monica and Sig until I was standing in front of her plush chair. Her dark skin had a gold undertone, making her seem warm, like she¡¯d spent a day in the sun. She smelled inviting, like my grandmere¡¯s kitchen. I¡¯d once thought Sig was the only vampire who could produce an unnatural sense of calm. Now I knew he wasn¡¯t even the best at doing it.


    ¡°H-hello,¡± I said, cursing my own tripping tongue for giving my nerves away.


    ¡°No need to be frightened, my dear. This won¡¯t hurt a bit.¡± Her smile said she was being honest, but I had a hard time believing that Monica and I were going to sit around and shoot the shit over tea and scones. I was here so she could bite me. ¡°Gentlemen, if you¡¯d be so kind as to leave Tribunal Leader Secret and me alone.¡± She used my official title, in spite of the fact she had about six thousand years on me. Give or take a few thousand.


    Sig and Juan Carlos were gone in an instant. Not a moment too soon for Juan Carlos, who was already halfway out the door when she began to bid them farewell.


    ¡°Have you ever bitten him?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but ask once we were alone.


    ¡°Juan Carlos? Heavens, no. Would that I never have to, darling. He reeks of dirty history, don¡¯t you think?¡± She continued to work on her cross-stitch, her tiny fingers creating the most astonishingly small, detailed stitches. Grandmere would die of jealousy. Even as a witch she couldn¡¯t magic up such fine work.


    ¡°Did they tell you what they want to know about me?¡±


    ¡°Love, if they¡¯ve sent you to me, it means they don¡¯t know what they want to know.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Aren¡¯t you like, the live-in polygraph?¡±


    ¡°Have you lied about anything?¡±


    Had anyone ever specifically said, Hey, Secret, you don¡¯t happen to be half-werewolf do you? No. ¡°Not¡­directly.¡±


    ¡°By omission perhaps?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t everyone?¡±


    Monica changed the thread on her needle and began to work on the scalelike feather pattern of a tiny hummingbird. ¡°Tell me something, Secret. Do you believe you have rights different from those of the rest of the council?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I used to have any rights at all, let alone different ones.¡± She was easy to talk to. Distressingly so. I¡¯d been told she read the truth from blood, but maybe she didn¡¯t even need blood to get honesty from people.


    ¡°Do you think you deserve your seat next to Sig?¡±


    I looked around the room, not sure what I was trying to find, then I sat on the floor in front of her, cross-legged. ¡°No,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°But you earned it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill Daria because I wanted the seat.¡±


    ¡°Reasons are inconsequential, sweet. It is actions and their consequences that matter to me.¡±


    Actions and consequences. That was why I was here after all. Everything I did, no matter how big or small, had an outcome. And I¡¯d done so much lately I was losing track. Now the fallout of what I¡¯d done was starting to catch up with me. I¡¯d been a fool to believe I could go on forever and not have to face this day eventually.


    ¡°I killed Daria so I could live.¡±


    ¡°Your life is important to you.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, not questioning it for a second.


    ¡°And yet you put yourself in situations of mortal peril on a regular basis.¡±


    ¡°I¡­well¡­ Trouble sort of has a way¡ª¡±


    ¡°You invite risk because it reminds you that you¡¯re alive. Whenever you stand on the precipice of death and spit into the void, you feel more human because you walk away from death with your heart still beating.¡± Her gaze was focused on the wall behind me, her hands working to create a rose with three-dimensional texture. The pulse she claimed I was so fond of was hammering.


    When I didn¡¯t speak, she continued. ¡°Why did you come to the council to hunt vampires?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Monica stopped stitching and turned her sightless gaze on me, tutting with three clicks of her tongue. ¡°Let¡¯s not play games, you and I. I¡¯ll know it all soon enough, so why don¡¯t you try honesty on. I think you¡¯ll like it.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t so sure. ¡°My family was split apart because of vampires. I am what I am because of a vampire.¡±


    ¡°Ah, and now we have it. The million-dollar question. What. Are. You?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m unusual.¡±


    She smiled, and I wished she hadn¡¯t. The fangs in her child¡¯s mouth scared the living shit out of me. More than Sig and his chilly unspoken threats. I never thought a vampire would scare me more than him, or more than Alexandre Peyton, the one who¡¯d come closest to killing me.


    They had nothing on Monica.


    ¡°You certainly are. The first Tribunal leader in the history of the council to not be a full-blooded vampire, did you know that?¡±


    ¡°I sort of assumed.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been the most popular.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m used to that.¡±


    Monica set down her project and held her hands out, palms up. Not wanting to be rude, I put my own in hers. If she was going to tell me I had mismatched lifelines and two different destinies, I was so out of here. There was only so much your future is yours to make I could handle. Instead, Monica raised my hands to her face and rubbed her cheeks against my palms, taking a good sniff at each of my wrists.


    ¡°You smell strongly of werewolf.¡±


    ¡°I¡­uh¡­¡±


    ¡°And sex.¡±


    Okay, hearing an eight-year-old say I smelled like sex took this whole scenario from creepy and strange to straight fucked up.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°So you make it a habit of bedding werewolves?¡±


    Geez, lady, judgmental much? ¡°Just two of them. One now.¡±


    ¡°You have a vampire on your skin too. Our young Mr. Chancery if I¡¯m not mistaken.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what it, uh¡­smells like?¡± I was trying to say she was misinterpreting the scent, but I wasn¡¯t sure how to phrase it, and my claim ended up sounding more like a question than an assertion.


    ¡°Believe it or not, Secret, who you give your body to is not of the utmost concern to the council. Sleep with Holden, sleep with your wolves. Your sex life is not what worries us.¡±


    I wanted to point out that she was the one who brought it up, but I bit my tongue. I was getting better and better at not being glib at inappropriate times, and this definitely counted as an inappropriate time.


    ¡°Then what is the council worried about?¡±


    ¡°Pillow talk.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The things whispered from lover to lover at night. The secrets you should be keeping you might not be. And most importantly, we worry that having a vampire Tribunal leader in the spotlight with the Werewolf King of Manhattan might make the wrong people ask the right questions. That is what we¡¯re worried about.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t discuss Tribunal secrets in bed,¡± I said honestly. Aside from knowing I was part vampire, and I was an important one at that, the werewolves had never asked me anything about the inner workings of the council, and I¡¯d never volunteered anything they didn¡¯t need to know. If something in my vampire life might cause them harm, they would know about it, the same way I¡¯d tell them if a case with Keaty might go south. But the werewolf-vampire loathing ran both ways. My wolves didn¡¯t ask about vampire business because they genuinely didn¡¯t care.

 Page 15

    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± And with that as her only preamble, Monica bit into my wrist.


    Chapter Sixteen


    Monica¡¯s bite hurt.


    I¡¯d experienced pleasurable vampire bites without being under the thrall and knew it didn¡¯t necessarily have to be painful when a vamp sampled the wares. Granted, my dream-sex love nips from Holden weren¡¯t exactly the best source to draw from. But this felt like two hot needles ripping at the thin skin of my wrist.


    I tried to jerk away, but Monica held fast, her diminutive hands like little claws in my arm until she¡¯d had her fill and pulled away with a satisfied ahhh. Cradling my hand near my chest as the wounds began to close on their own, I gaped at her like she¡¯d¡­well¡­bitten me.


    I knew I was here to give her my blood, but I thought maybe she¡¯d poke me with her needle and take a dainty drop. She¡¯d practically gnawed my arm in half. ¡°I thought you said it wasn¡¯t going to hurt,¡± I reminded her.


    ¡°I thought we were going to be honest here. So, I guess we both lied, Miss McQueen.¡±


    She sat back in her chair, closing her eyes, and I got to my feet, making sure I was as far out of her reach as I could be while still remaining in the room.


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Her thoughtful smile vanished, giving me a glimpse of her true age in spite of the child¡¯s face she wore. ¡°Unique is certainly a word for you.¡±


    ¡°I told you.¡±


    ¡°But you left out so much.¡±


    ¡°And now you know why.¡± My wrist was whole and smooth again, but the sting of her bite lingered under the surface.


    Monica licked her lips as if chasing a drop that might hold the answer to some unspoken question. She had all the answers she was going to get from me.


    ¡°How is it even possible?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You saw my past. You know as much as I know.¡±


    ¡°My dear, you shouldn¡¯t be real.¡±


    I shrugged, letting my healed wrist drop back to my side. I didn¡¯t question whether or not she¡¯d be able to see the gesture. Blind, maybe, but she knew precisely what was happening around her at all times. ¡°Maybe I shouldn¡¯t be, but I¡¯m here.¡± There was no sense pretending anymore because I knew she¡¯d tasted the whole truth of my history. Somehow a huge weight had eased off. Whatever would happen to me now, it was out of my hands. I¡¯d avoided the inevitable as long as I could.


    Now my fate was in the hands of an ageless child.


    So much for Calliope¡¯s theory that I¡¯d have time to decide my own future. That was Monica¡¯s job. For the first time, though, I was starting to think maybe the short lifeline had nothing to do with my werewolf blood and everything to do with this moment. I rubbed my thumbnail into the groove of my palm and waited.


    ¡°What a marvel. I thought there were no surprises left.¡± Then she laughed. She laughed louder and longer than she had with Sig, and the sound was pure joy. ¡°Oh, darling. What a delight you are to me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome?¡±


    ¡°Come here.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to, but I still went back to her chair, though I opted not to sit this time.


    ¡°Do you know how long I have waited for something to truly surprise me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a big fan of surprises myself. There are too many of them in my life.¡±


    Monica shook her head. ¡°Live a few thousand years and you¡¯ll see. Nothing will surprise you anymore, and the world will make you jaded. You make me feel young, really, honestly young again. What wonder.¡±


    ¡°Are you¡­um¡­?¡± I searched the air in front of me, closing my eyes and hoping to see the right words. When they didn¡¯t come, I said, ¡°Don¡¯t tell the council.¡±


    Still chuckling to herself, Monica retrieved her cross-stitch. ¡°You have not betrayed the council to your lovers. You¡¯ve told them you¡¯re a vampire, which was more than you told us about your other half, though. I will tell the council you have kept as many secrets as you have shared.¡±


    ¡°You want me to tell them I¡¯m a werewolf?¡±


    ¡°Heavens no, child. Are you soft in the head?¡±


    ¡°Then what?¡±


    ¡°I will tell Sig.¡±


    ¡°But he¡ª¡±


    Her white gaze pierced mine, freezing the confession in my throat. ¡°I said I will tell Sig the truth. He is the head of the Tribunal, and his confidence is the only one I need to take. That is what I will tell the council. What he decides to share is his decision alone.¡±


    ¡°And Juan Carlos?¡±


    ¡°If he questions me, he knows I will bite him next. He wants me to bite him even less than I want to do it.¡±


    Stupidly I stood in front of her, not sure what to do.


    ¡°Turn your doll around on the way out.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    She pointed to the dollhouse and began stitching vines. I hadn¡¯t seen her change the color, she was that fast. Clearly she was also finished with our conversation, although she continued chuckling to herself.


    Beside the door I stopped and looked into the dollhouse. A small, pale figurine with curly blonde hair peered out at me. She hadn¡¯t been there when I¡¯d come in. Staring at Monica, I expected some kind of explanation. The vampire kept ignoring me until I turned the doll around and faced her into a corner so she matched the figures in the other rooms.


    ¡°Good luck, Secret,¡± Monica said then, as I opened the door. ¡°I have the feeling you¡¯re going to need it.¡±


    Chapter Seventeen


    The narrow hall outside Monica¡¯s chamber was empty, but I knew Sig and Juan Carlos couldn¡¯t be far away. I took the momentary reprieve to collect my thoughts. Leaning my head against the cool stone wall, I closed my eyes and breathed in through my nose a few times.


    It couldn¡¯t be that simple. There was no way.


    Even the cold, textured surface of the wall couldn¡¯t distract me.


    This had been far too close for comfort, and I wasn¡¯t stupid enough to believe it would be over so easily. Monica had said she¡¯d only tell Sig, and Sig already knew the truth. But I¡¯d obviously been sloppy enough to show up on the council¡¯s radar. What a fool I¡¯d been to believe I could get mixed up with the wolves and it wouldn¡¯t eventually turn around to bite me in the ass in my vampire life.


    It didn¡¯t matter that Monica wanted to keep me out of trouble. For now. She was only doing it because I amused her. How long would it be before her amusement ran out and she thought it would be more fun to throw me to¡­well, not to the wolves, but to something much worse?


    Was there a precedent for this situation?


    What would the council do if they found out a half-werewolf was ruling over them? They had enough problems thinking I was half-human. This was going to be a mess.


    I¡¯d been spared the fallout for now, though, and that made me worry more than it would have if Monica had just outed me.


    I crouched, still facing the wall, and pressed my forehead back against the stone. I was squatted like that when Sig and Juan Carlos came back down the hall. Even when they stood over me and I could feel the weight of their gazes, I didn¡¯t look up.


    ¡°It went well, then?¡± Sig asked. His voice sounded shockingly loud given how quiet the hall had previously been. I was glad something was now louder than the throbbing of my pulse.


    ¡°It was great,¡± I said into the wall.


    ¡°What did she say?¡±


    ¡°She will tell you, and only you.¡± I swiveled my head to the side so I could look at them, and though my words were for Sig, I locked my gaze on Juan Carlos. He and I stared at each other, neither of us showing a glimmer of false friendliness. I was practically challenging him to say something. ¡°Guess she doesn¡¯t like Juan Carlos. Can¡¯t imagine why.¡±


    Sig¡ªusually the parental figure who kept Juan Carlos and me from lapsing into childish slap fights whenever we were within five feet of each other¡ªsaid nothing and walked on towards Monica¡¯s chamber. When he was gone, the Spanish vampire and I continued to eyeball each other coldly.


    Juan Carlos took two steps forward and came to squat beside me. Vampires weren¡¯t like werewolves, and physical posturing had less to do with power. A wolf would never lower himself to my level because it would demonstrate weakness. Just like I¡¯d never sit lower than someone I felt was beneath me in the werewolf totem. I was glad I didn¡¯t have to deal with that bullshit right now. I had enough on my mind without it.


    ¡°What did she say to you?¡± He was parroting Sig¡¯s earlier question, but he was much angrier.


    ¡°She said she liked my outfit,¡± I replied.


    He leaned closer, well into my personal bubble, but I didn¡¯t move away. I would prefer not to be close to Juan Carlos, but I also couldn¡¯t yield to his fear tactics. I knew he wanted to see me quivering in my boots, but I had no intention of giving him what he wanted.


    ¡°You think you¡¯re clever, don¡¯t you?¡± His breath was cool and held the faintest scent of copper. He must have fed recently.


    With lightning-fast speed, his hand darted out and clenched around my throat. I might be fast, but I had nothing on a full-blooded vampire, and when he squeezed, I let out a surprised gasp. I¡¯d assumed he wouldn¡¯t be thrilled by my response, but I hadn¡¯t been expecting a violent reaction.


    I tried to pull out of his grip, but his fingers tightened, and my windpipe began to yield to the pressure. Vampire blood or not, I still needed to breathe, so I stopped struggling and met his cold gaze. My breath escaped in short pants and felt raspy and painful.


    ¡°You¡¯ve played me as a fool for far too long, girl. Did you think you¡¯d be able to hide from me forever?¡±


    Since I couldn¡¯t speak I squinted, hoping my pissed-off expression would say everything my mouth was unable to.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re not what you claim.¡±


    That got my traitorous pulse tripping extra fast. I could keep my face impassive, but the fear kindling inside me couldn¡¯t be repressed. My heart was hammering, and I couldn¡¯t tamp it down. He¡¯d probably have been able to hear it anyway, but with his hand clamped around my neck he¡¯d be able to feel it too.

 Page 16

    My stupid body had confirmed his words.


    ¡°Monica might not tell me, but you will, won¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I croaked.


    I regretted it when he squeezed so hard the thin skin of my neck yielded under his short fingernails. A warm wetness trickled down my neck and slipped down the front of my shirt. The darkness in his eyes swelled, turning them entirely black. There was something new there, overriding the venomous hatred.


    Hunger.


    ¡°One taste, and I¡¯d know,¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯d know everything.¡±


    Maybe not one taste. He¡¯d need more than what was under his fingernails, but if he bit me, he¡¯d be able to glean what he wanted.


    He wouldn¡¯t know what Monica knew. Juan Carlos didn¡¯t have the power to see my history with one taste. If he could, I¡¯d never have been put in this position in the first place. But if he tasted enough of my blood, he would know the most important thing I¡¯d be hiding. I might be able to fool people on the surface, and I¡¯d been lying so long I buried my wolf self seamlessly when I was around them. My blood couldn¡¯t lie, though. Just as my pulse had a terrible poker face when it came to fear, my blood was laced with the secret I most desperately wanted to hide from him.


    One long swallow and he¡¯d taste the wolf.


    He rose to his feet, and I wheezed as he dragged me with him. Slamming me hard against the wall, Juan Carlos angled his face towards my throat and smelled me. When he pulled back, his eyes looked wild and more frightening. Juan Carlos had often made me uneasy in the past, but I¡¯d reserved my fear for Sig.


    Sig.


    I croaked out a plea, trying to say the Finnish vampire¡¯s name.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare,¡± Juan Carlos snapped. ¡°Not until I¡¯ve had my chance.¡±


    He lowered his head again, and I saw my opportunity to escape this situation unscathed vanish before my eyes. Monica had saved me from Juan Carlos the first time, but who would save me now?


    ¡°Let her go.¡± The words were smooth and free from panic, but the tone carried an unmistakable threat.


    Juan Carlos was so close to biting me, the fine hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end from the anticipation. For a long moment the vampire holding me did not move and made no answer to the order he¡¯d been given.


    ¡°Te dije que le bajes al suelo. No me hagas repetirme, amigo m¨ªo,¡± Sig said.


    I wasn¡¯t too up on my Spanish unless you counted cuss words, but I got the gist of it, and Sig was resorting to Juan Carlos¡¯s native language to ask him to put me down.


    A growl against my cheek was the conquistador¡¯s response.


    The fingers digging into my throat were met with another set of hands, prying Juan Carlos off me, and then Sig¡¯s tall, lean form was between us. I sagged against the stone, my own fingers going to the wounds on my throat while I sucked in deep, glorious lungfuls of air.


    ¡°Are you out of your goddamn mind?¡± I exploded when I was able to speak. Even as the fingernail holes in my skin were starting to close, my voice was rough and gravelly.


    Juan Carlos snarled. His eyes were still solid black, and his fangs were exposed and slick with saliva. He was so intent on having my blood, spit had coated his chin. In spite of the Armani suit he wore, he looked like a madman. A wild animal.


    Sig didn¡¯t have to suggest I keep my mouth shut. I figured it out all by myself.


    Instead of scolding me, Sig continued to direct his attention to Juan Carlos. ¡°Why do you do this to yourself?¡±


    ¡°She isn¡¯t right,¡± Juan Carlos replied, some of the madness tainting his words, but he¡¯d come into himself enough to wipe his chin off. ¡°I want to know what Monica said.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time.¡±


    ¡°This is the only time. I want to know what she said.¡±


    ¡°Monica insists Secret didn¡¯t betray us. Our third is a fit and honest leader.¡± When Sig said honest, Juan Carlos barked a laugh so cold it gave me a chill.


    ¡°She may not have sold us out to the wolves, but she¡¯s hiding something.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all hiding something,¡± Sig said and gave Juan Carlos¡¯s arm a telling squeeze. ¡°You need to put her secrets out of your head.¡±


    Juan Carlos jerked his arm free and pointed at me. ¡°We aren¡¯t through.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t wa¡ª¡±


    Sig looked over his shoulder at me, and I shut my mouth immediately.


    ¡°This is over,¡± he told me, but I knew he was speaking to us both. ¡°Monica has had her last word, and she says you are fit. Tell Juan Carlos you haven¡¯t done anything.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything,¡± I repeated.


    Sig turned back to Juan Carlos. ¡°You are never to touch her again, am I understood?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a yes-or-no question, Juan Carlos. And there¡¯s only one answer I¡¯m looking for. Do you understand?¡±


    After a pause so long I thought he might actually say no, the black-eyed vampire said, ¡°Yes. I understand.¡±


    ¡°Secret, do you think you can stay out of his way?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± As if I wanted to be anywhere near him after his outburst? Last time we¡¯d been alone together Juan Carlos had simply been threatening. Now I understood the danger was more real than I¡¯d thought. I¡¯d underestimated his hatred of me.


    ¡°Then I think we¡¯re done here.¡±


    Sig let me slip away first, leaving them behind, but I wasn¡¯t quite out of earshot when I heard Juan Carlos say, ¡°For now.¡±


    Chapter Eighteen


    The next night I woke with the knowledge that an axe was suspended over my head, waiting to fall.


    I might have been able to deal with it better had the blade been literal, but instead it was the threat Lucas had made. Combined with the fear over Calliope potentially being a murderer, my mother having a pack of maniac wolves at her service, and my fate with Juan Carlos and the Tribunal being tenuous at best¡­well, it was no small wonder I had a migraine from the get-go.


    I also woke up alone. No pesky vampires, no red-hot werewolves. Just my cold sheets and my dark bedroom. Part of me was relieved, but a bigger part of me was dwelling on what my encounter with Desmond had meant the night before.


    Could he forgive me and start over, or was it just relapse sex?


    I groaned and rolled my face into my pillow, getting a mouthful of hair in the process. Pulling the damp strands from between my lips, I wondered what fresh hell the world would throw at me tonight. Maybe if I was real lucky, another demon bent on the total destruction of Manhattan would show up. Surely a few of my problems would have to take a backseat to that.


    Apocalypse¡ªthe ultimate get-out-of-jail-free card.


    A knock at my front door dragged my sorry ass out of bed and away from my musings over the end of days.


    ¡°Who knocks anymore?¡± I grumbled. ¡°Everyone else lets their damned selves in.¡±


    When I opened the door, I was sure I must still be asleep.


    Holden and Desmond stood side by side, making my minuscule entranceway look impossibly small with their collective bulk filling all the space. The vampire looked smug and the werewolf looked like he had a terminal case of the grouchies. It was quite a change of pace considering Holden was usually the grumpiest bugger in the room.


    ¡°You let your dog out without a leash. You know the city has bylaws against that.¡±


    Well, that explained what he was so merry about. Holden loved any opportunity to use a bad joke, especially one at the expense of my werewolves. The dog lines were getting a little old. He never seemed to consider how I shared the same canine infection he so gleefully mocked in Desmond and Lucas.


    ¡°If you hadn¡¯t opened your mouth, I¡¯d be fairly certain I¡¯d died and gone to heaven.¡±


    Desmond gave a grim attempt at a smile, but it came out skewed and tight-looking. Holden rocked on his heels, and I could practically see the gears in his head working while he waited for another opportunity to lambaste Desmond.


    I stepped from the doorway and held out a hand, my welcome gesture almost comically overstated. ¡°Why don¡¯t you guys come in? Try not to kill each other while I get changed.¡± Wearing cotton short-shorts and Desmond¡¯s Yankees T-shirt probably wasn¡¯t the best idea when having a t¨ºte-¨¤-t¨ºte with the two men I¡¯d most recently shared a bed with. What was appropriate, given the company? I didn¡¯t own a burka, and sadly, invisibility cloaks didn¡¯t exist outside of Hogwarts.


    In my bedroom, I had a silent panic attack.


    Desmond would be able to smell Holden all over the apartment. And Holden would be able to smell me all over Desmond. Neither of them was stupid, and a third grader would be able to do the simple math equation. Man plus Secret plus other man equals slut.


    I sat on the bed with a sweater in my hands.


    They¡¯re both still sitting there, I thought hopefully. Furthermore, Holden had known for a good long time about my relationship with Desmond. Really, the only reaction here I was terrified to deal with was that of my werewolf ex. He¡¯d left because of my connection to another man. What was stopping him from bolting now?


    For one, I hadn¡¯t had sex with Holden.


    Not for lack of trying, I reminded myself.


    Slutty, slut, slut, slut, I added.


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    Tugging the sweater over my head and trading my sleep shorts for jeans, I went back into the living room. Holden had both arms propped on the back of the loveseat, and Desmond was nowhere to be found.


    ¡°Where¡¯s¡ª?¡±


    Holden didn¡¯t wait for me to finish, just pointed a lean, pale finger towards the kitchen instead. ¡°He didn¡¯t feel like bonding.¡±


    Desmond came out of the small kitchen and stopped where the tile met carpet, leaning against the doorframe instead of coming farther into the room. ¡°I can¡¯t begin to imagine why.¡±


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± I groaned. ¡°Why are you two together in the first place if all you want to do is, like¡­have a sword fight with your dicks or something?¡± Note to self, when you¡¯re worried about a love triangle, try not to mention penises. I bit my bottom lip to refrain from saying anything else. This wasn¡¯t my fault. They should know better than to confront me when I¡¯d just woken up.

 Page 17

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be much of a fight,¡± Holden said. ¡°I¡¯m led to understand those little cocktail swords don¡¯t hold up well against a real weapon.¡± He was looking at his fingernails as though he was perfectly uninterested in the whole discussion. I didn¡¯t miss the hint of a smirk, though someone who didn¡¯t know him well might. Sometimes his face barely moved.


    Desmond growled but didn¡¯t rise to the bait. He looked back into the kitchen, maybe hoping to find sanctuary within, but all he was going to find there was a shitty Ikea table and a microwave with dried blood in it.


    ¡°The sooner you guys tell me why you¡¯re both here, the sooner you don¡¯t have to be in the same place,¡± I told them.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t planned,¡± Desmond replied.


    ¡°You both happened to show up at the same time?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Holden said.


    ¡°You first.¡± I pointed to the vampire. ¡°Why are you here?¡± I knew he was here because I¡¯d asked for his help. It was the same reason Desmond would have come. What I needed to know was if either of them had done anything helpful with their good intentions.


    ¡°I found out some things about your missing socialite.¡±


    That got both Desmond¡¯s and my attention. ¡°What do you know?¡± Desmond brushed past me and went to loom over Holden. If he thought he was going to be able to intimidate a vampire, he had a thing or two to learn about my undead brethren.


    ¡°Oh, Secret,¡± Holden said, gazing up at Desmond. ¡°What big teeth you have.¡± He batted his eyelashes once for good measure, then waved Desmond away with his fingers.


    ¡°For Christ¡¯s sake, Holden, stop being such a knob.¡±


    And with that, the smirk was gone, and his expression was shuttered again. When he spoke again, his tone was cold, and all the humor had leached away. ¡°Last night I went to speak to one of Kellen¡¯s friends. I managed to get some details that had been missing from previous versions of the story.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± I asked.


    He tapped the corner of his left eye. ¡°I can be a persuasive conversationalist.¡± So he¡¯d pulled a lie-detector-by-way-of-enthralling. Can¡¯t say I was upset with him for it.


    ¡°What¡¯d you find out?¡±


    ¡°Turns out someone did see her after she was dropped off. This friend met her off Canal, and they went to a club called Eleven-B.¡±


    Not that I was up on the cool club scene in Manhattan, but I¡¯d never heard of the place before listening to the message on Kellen¡¯s machine. I told him as much, and he shrugged one shoulder. ¡°From what this girl told me, it¡¯s very exclusive,¡± he mimicked a near-perfect high-society ditz voice. ¡°Not for the rabble, you know.¡±


    ¡°A secret club?¡± Desmond interjected.


    ¡°Sounds like.¡±


    ¡°Did Kellen¡¯s friend see her leave the club?¡± I continued, trying to keep the information flowing.


    Holden shook her head. ¡°Last this so-called friend saw of Kellen was her going into a private room with someone. She couldn¡¯t say who. After that she was too drunk to care.¡±


    Some friend.


    ¡°Did she tell you how to get there?¡±


    ¡°She did me one better.¡± He reached into the inside pocket of his blazer and withdrew a small, silver object. ¡°She gave me a key to the front door.¡±


    Chapter Nineteen


    For a secret club in Manhattan I was expecting¡­more.


    When Holden pointed to a dilapidated building a block off Canal Street, I was sure he¡¯d been had. Never mind that he¡¯d enthralled Kellen¡¯s girlfriend into telling him the truth, there was certainly some mistake here.


    On one side was a Chinese grocer, whose establishment had the faint dried-fish reek I had come to expect from the shops in and leading up to Chinatown, and on the opposite side a dark-skinned man with ill-advised sideburns was trying to sell a tourist couple a knockoff Coach bag. It was a terrible knockoff too, one where the logo couldn¡¯t have passed muster with a blind fashionista.


    It was patterned Hs, for God¡¯s sake, not the famous Cs.


    The bottle blonde wearing an I Heart New York shirt didn¡¯t seem to have the faintest clue. She was snapping bubble gum and telling her bored-looking beau how everyone ¡°back home¡± would think she¡¯d spent a fortune on it.


    I wanted to give her a smack upside the head, but I had bigger fish to fry.


    Like finding an invisible secret nightclub.


    The building between the grocer and the knockoff vendor was our supposed destination, but it was nothing more than a dark, abandoned-looking apartment complex. Not even a hip brownstone that might be an ideal place for drunk rich kids to go, or an empty warehouse in Brooklyn where all-night parties were popular.


    This was just¡­sad.


    ¡°Did you write the address down wrong?¡± I asked Holden.


    The vampire made a face that begged the question, Do I look like a fucking idiot to you?


    ¡°Geez, just asking.¡±


    I was still uncomfortable standing between Desmond and Holden. There was a little too much testosterone flying, and the divided parts of my nature were all up in arms. The cool collected vampire half was calmly trying to explain why I should ditch the wolf and go with what was behind door number one. My werewolf half, who I now understood was a real, living entity inside me¡ªdamn bitch almost got us killed the first time she got into the driver¡¯s seat of our body¡ªwas telling me lust was nothing compared to a soul-bond.


    The wolf tugged me one way, the vampire held her on a leash.


    Neither of them was pleased with the other.


    A simple love triangle would have been great. In a human body, as a human girl, I would just have to ask myself Who do I love more? But that wouldn¡¯t work here. I wasn¡¯t a single entity making a decision based solely on love. I was a monster with divided destinies, and each of the men at my side represented a prize at the end of a path.


    Choose to be a vampire and I could be with Holden. Forever.


    Choose to be a werewolf and I could have Desmond back. Until one of us died.


    The lifelines on my palms itched, and I rubbed them against my jeans. How many stupid decisions had I made in love because of something one of my monstrous halves wanted? I¡¯d married Lucas because I thought it was right for the pack.


    If only it was a simply human choice. Not one that would define the entire outcome of my future. Love was one thing, and though I wouldn¡¯t call it an easy choice, it was one I could make. But I wasn¡¯t ready to decide on my fate quite yet. I didn¡¯t think the boys would be willing to share me until I was ready. It was bad enough I¡¯d expected Desmond to share me with Lucas.


    Look how well that had ended.


    ¡°Earth to Secret,¡± Desmond said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. ¡°The bloodsucker asked you a question. Where did you go?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I asked¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said¡ª¡±


    They both stopped talking as simultaneously as they¡¯d started, shooting each other withering glares over the top of my head. Which wasn¡¯t terribly difficult since Desmond was over six feet, Holden was just under it, and I was practically miniature.


    ¡°I said,¡± Desmond began again, and paused, waiting to be interrupted. When Holden didn¡¯t speak, the werewolf continued, ¡°Where did you go?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I was¡­thinking about something.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    I shrugged and gave him a sad smile. ¡°How much easier my life would be if I was human.¡±


    Had I said those words to Lucas, he would have looked crushed. At least during our courtship. Being a werewolf had been what brought us together. Ultimately it was also what tore us asunder, but I wouldn¡¯t expect the wolf king to see it that way. Desmond, though, he understood. Although the soul-bond had been what drew me into his arms in the first place, it was something else that made me want to stay with him.


    Love might not have been supernatural, but it was the one fantastic, sublimely magical thing that even the most mundane human could experience.


    He wouldn¡¯t be offended by me saying it, because me being human wouldn¡¯t change anything about how I loved him. Desmond returned my smile and touched my upper arm ever so briefly. The gesture was delicate and uncertain, as though he wasn¡¯t sure it was okay to put his hands on me. Or if he really wanted to.


    As if he hadn¡¯t fucked the living daylights out of me only the night before.


    Holden cleared his throat. ¡°If this lovely discussion about Secret¡¯s hopes and dreams could wrap itself up, what I¡¯d asked was, would you like to go find your missing friend?¡±


    Way to rub salt in the open guilt wound there.


    I pulled away from Desmond¡¯s hand, overwhelmed by the nagging feeling that while I stood here thinking about my messed-up love life, Kellen might be somewhere inside the dark building in front of us. And I hadn¡¯t run in headlong to save her. That nugget left a bad taste on the back of my tongue.


    ¡°What are you waiting for, then? Lead the way.¡±


    I understood immediately why the building looked abandoned from the outside. The apartment complex had been converted into a garment manufacturing space, and the inside was a shock to the system. The layout of the structure had been completely changed to make room for the large rolls of white cotton and machines used for cutting, measuring and laying out clothing.


    In the center of the main floor was an old cage-style elevator, but the walls where the previous apartments had been were torn out. Even the ceilings had been modified. Unless these apartments had once been able to brag about twenty-five-foot, exposed-beam ceilings, it appeared as though they¡¯d actually combined the first and second floor for more space.


    The machinery all lay quiet, and there was no one at work to question why we were around. Gawking at the equipment and the strangeness of finding it here, I followed the men to the elevator. As weird as this was, it still wasn¡¯t a nightclub. I couldn¡¯t hear any music, and the air around us was thick with silence.


    Closing the cage door brought my wolf out of her love stupor and gave her something new to focus on. We were locked inside a cage. It didn¡¯t matter that it was an elevator car, or that logically I knew we would be out of it in less than a minute. To her, there was no way to explain it in a satisfactory manner. A cage was a cage, and she was freaking the fuck out.

 Page 18

    I broke into a cold sweat, and my heart hammered.


    Both Desmond and Holden recognized the change.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Holden asked.


    He was a vampire, so small spaces didn¡¯t mean much to him. Desmond was the one who understood what the reaction meant. ¡°She¡¯s having a panic attack.¡±


    I swallowed the knot in my throat but didn¡¯t speak, just kept my eyes fixed on the handle while we rose up and up through more hospital-white rooms filled with more equipment and no signs of the club. We¡¯ll be out soon, we¡¯ll be out soon, we¡¯ll be out soon, I chanted. My wolf replied with a resounding growl.


    Holden inched away.


    Turns out my growl hadn¡¯t been so internal.


    Desmond pulled my ponytail to the side and placed his warm, slightly rough palm on the back of my neck. The sensation of his skin directly on mine made the beast within relax a degree or two. He leaned close and whispered in my ear, ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Two words, no promise of freedom or safety, but still the wolf relented.


    I let out a sigh.


    There was no way I was getting through this next full moon without her busting free. My days of keeping my inner werewolf chained were behind me.


    Chapter Twenty


    Considering what the rest of the building had been, the eleventh floor was a surprise.


    I was the first off the elevator, practically itching out of my skin to be free of the cage, even after Desmond had simmered me down some. He followed behind me, keeping an eye on my behavior. I could tell he was watching for some sign I was about to slip. It wasn¡¯t impossible this close to the full moon for a werewolf to change forms. Control was harder to maintain the closer the cycle came. How I¡¯d managed to fight it off for twenty-three years seemed miraculous and impossible to me now.


    We waited for Holden who was the last off, and then stood shoulder-to-shoulder looking at a boring, typical wooden apartment door. 11A.


    ¡°Should we ask if their neighbors are home?¡± I suggested, trying to lighten the mood.


    Ignoring me, Holden indicated the long, dim hallway to our left. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Was this club some shitty apartment? Were the young elite of New York so hard up for new ideas and themes that hanging out in a crappy one-bedroom suddenly titillated them? I wouldn¡¯t put anything past the realm of possibility, but it felt a little strange to me.


    The door for 11B was at the end of the hall, and we passed no other apartments along the way. Where 11A had a nice walnut-colored door, the one for 11B had been painted a lacquered black, and the numbers were red. The door had no handle, but there was a place for a key. Without being asked to proceed, Holden inserted the key he¡¯d gotten from Kellen¡¯s friend and unlocked the entrance.


    When the door swung open, all I needed was a glimpse through the passage to know this was no ordinary nightclub. This place reeked of magic on such a scale even a human should be able to recognize something was off about it.


    We stepped through the door, Holden reclaiming his key before shutting it behind us, and the moment it clicked the entire frame vanished. Awesome. My wolf stirred uneasily, but since we were in a wide-open space she wasn¡¯t in a full panic yet. I hoped to keep it that way.


    The room was enormous, easily four times bigger than the whole floor should have been, which was the first sign magic was at work here. The walls were painted black with sheer red swags of fabric hanging from the ceiling, giving the dim light a bloody quality.


    Incense scented the room with a musky, peppery fragrance that made me think of spice bazaars in foreign movies. Or hippies. Grandmere loved incense. Some nights our whole house reeked of patchouli while she tried to cover up the stink of whatever potion she was brewing. It was hard to tell what was worse¡ªthe rotten-fruit smell of her tonics or the lingering aroma of rain incense.


    I shook off the memory of home and took in the rest of the room. At least the part I could make out. Hand-painted screens blocked our view of large sections of the space, but they were nothing compared to the sculptures. Huge floor-to-ceiling carvings of teak and black-lacquered wood, they depicted dragons climbing over one another, or chubby Buddhas laughing merrily. A ship riding a wave with a tumble of wooden passengers tossed overboard reminded me of a famous Japanese painting, but this room was decidedly Chinese in its decor. Small red lanterns bridged the gaps between the sculpted pillars, and in their light I could see people through the gaps in the wood.


    The sculptures weren¡¯t just pillars, they were the walls to other rooms.


    How big was this place?


    A petite woman with wide hips and a wider smile appeared in the entrance. Where she¡¯d come from I had no idea, because one second we were alone and the next she was with us. Her short brown hair was cut in a smooth bob, and I was a bit surprised she was so¡­Caucasian.


    ¡°Good evening, pilgrims.¡±


    Pilgrims? Oh Jesus, we were in for a treat. ¡°Hi,¡± I said, patting myself on the back for not laughing at her.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t had the pleasure of meeting.¡± She gave a small bow, her red high-neck Chinese dress rustling as she edged towards us slowly. ¡°My name is Carla. And now, I must ask¡­ Whose key do you have, and how did you find us?¡±


    Holden stepped forward, flipping the key casually around his index finger. ¡°I got¡ª¡±


    Carla shot him the most crippling, cold glare I¡¯d seen a human bestow on a vampire. The kindly greeter routine was done, and she looked like she might spit venom at any moment. ¡°If I wanted to hear from a vampire, I would say so,¡± she snapped. ¡°I¡¯d prefer if someone with a pulse spoke.¡± Her sweetness returning, she pivoted back to Desmond and me as though her outburst hadn¡¯t happened, and gave another cute bow. ¡°Please¡­continue.¡±


    For his part, the vampire didn¡¯t look too disturbed by her verbal assault. If he wasn¡¯t going to make a big deal out of it, neither would I, but I was quietly insulted on his behalf. I was here for information, and picking fights this early into our endeavor wouldn¡¯t get me far.


    ¡°We do not cater to the undead here,¡± Carla explained, and clasped her hands in front of her. I swear to God I thought she was going to bow again before I raised my hand and shook my head.


    ¡°No, seriously. Stop. Enough of the bowing, please. I¡¯m here to find a friend of mine.¡±


    ¡°Who gave¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Carla?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where we got the key.¡±


    Her smile disappeared, and this time I didn¡¯t think it was coming back. When she spoke again, her charming hostess voice was gone, and she sounded huskier, more smoky and sexier than the previous incarnation had been. ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re mistaken.¡± Her whole stance changed along with her voice. Instead of hunched, she drew to her full height until she was taller than me. She rested a manicured hand on one of her jutted-out hips and fixed her heavy-lidded, lazy gaze on me. ¡°Because you brought a vampire to a fae bar. So you¡¯re going to tell me where you got the key.¡±


    I refused to be intimidated by a human, regardless of who she worked with. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared right back. If she didn¡¯t want to play nice, neither would I. ¡°Gee, Carla, I¡¯m sorry. We missed the No Shirt, No Shoes, Have Vampires, No Service sign outside. I just read the Dumb Bitches Welcome one and invited myself in.¡±


    She had a great dentist. I could tell because her mouth was so slack I could see her tonsils. ¡°Why I¡­¡± she sputtered, trying to find a comeback. One would come to her eventually, but I didn¡¯t have time to trade barbs.


    ¡°I need help finding my friend, and you will help me find her, do you understand?¡±


    Her mouth clamped shut, and she mirrored my arms-crossed gesture.


    ¡°Let me try,¡± Desmond whispered, placing a hand on my waist and moving me a few inches to the right. I hung back, standing beside Holden. If anyone could get her talking, it would be Desmond. I¡¯d seen him melt some of the iciest bitches on the planet with a mere smile. He had a soothing effect on people. Especially women.


    Shocker.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he started, and already he was making a better impression on her than I had. ¡°We don¡¯t mean to intrude, and we honestly didn¡¯t know the rules. If it makes you feel any better, I¡¯m not thrilled he¡¯s here either.¡±


    She smiled. Hook.


    ¡°We¡¯re looking for a dear friend of mine, and we have reason to believe she was here earlier this week. A mutual friend came to the club with her, and no one has seen her since. That friend was the woman we got our key from.¡±


    Carla¡¯s hand went to her chest, although she was drawing his attention more towards her boobs than her heart. ¡°Oh my, you poor thing. You must be so worried.¡±


    Line.


    ¡°Maybe you or someone else here might be able to help us? We want to take a quick look around, and then we¡¯ll be gone. I promise we don¡¯t want any trouble, we just want to find our friend.¡±


    Carla nodded sweetly, and I was ready to think Sinker, when she reached out and touched his upper arm. Giving it one firm squeeze, she looked past him like he was a big invisible wall and locked her gaze with mine.


    ¡°I like this one. How much?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to barter, Blondie. Name your price.¡±


    What the fuck?


    Before I had time to answer, Carla set about checking Desmond for defects. Her roaming hands touched his abs, his shoulders, both arms. He pulled his head away when she tried to check his teeth, and she didn¡¯t seem to like his spirit. When she skirted around him and went to grab a handful of his¡ªadmittedly glorious¡ªass, I shook off my stupor and yanked her away.


    ¡°Mine,¡± I growled, and it was more the wolf speaking than me. I didn¡¯t like it when people touched things that belonged to me. And I really didn¡¯t like it when they tried to play grabby hands with my man¡¯s tight buns.


    ¡°Greedy,¡± was her terse reply. ¡°We share here.¡±


    She tried to pull away, but my hand was locked on her upper arm, and I squeezed. Harder than I normally would have when handling a human. Carla squealed. Maybe I should have felt bad, but I didn¡¯t. There was zero remorse to be had.

 Page 19

    ¡°He¡¯s not for sharing,¡± I said coldly.


    Holden snorted.


    When I released Carla, I figured she would stay away. The threat of violence is usually enough to keep people from doing stupid things. But I must have underestimated how badly she wanted to have a romp with Desmond. The second she was free of me she turned to him, rose on her toes and planted a firm kiss right on his lips.


    I was too dumbfounded to react. For a moment, so was Desmond. His eyes widened, and she must have slipped him the tongue since he sputtered, coughed, and used both hands to push the overeager hostess away from him.


    My cheeks flushed with rage, and I could feel the heat of my temper throbbing in my ears. Holden must have been able to sense my anger because he took hold of one of my wrists and gave a small squeeze. I didn¡¯t like to acknowledge he could physically overpower me, but we both knew he could if it came down to it. That knowledge helped center me, and I refocused my anger.


    ¡°He tastes funny,¡± Carla said, wrinkling her pert nose.


    ¡°He tastes like werewolf,¡± I told her. Funny that she could tell what Holden was on sight but hadn¡¯t the faintest fucking clue she was jamming her tongue into a wolf¡¯s mouth.


    Carla looked as though I¡¯d slapped her with a fish¡ªdumbfounded and insulted. I thought she might start wiping her tongue off on her sleeve. Disgust was apparent on her face, and it gave me a perverse gratification. Apparently she had no issues dealing with fae, an order that included such creatures as ogres and trolls, but kissing a werewolf was icky.


    Fine by me, it meant she could keep her grubby fae-loving hands off my guy.


    ¡°Just tell us what we need to know and we¡¯ll go,¡± I promised her.


    Chapter Twenty-One


    As luck would have it, Carla didn¡¯t know anything.


    It would have been discouraging, but since she was so amped up to get rid of us, she was willing to take us to her fearless leader. She wove through the club a few feet out of our reach, giving us time to have a look at our surroundings. There was no music playing, but the room didn¡¯t feel quiet without it. Something else took the place of the ambient noise, but I couldn¡¯t place my finger on what it was. A white-noise hum making my insides feel warm.


    Nothing creepy about that.


    Throughout the large space were low velvet couches where twenty-somethings sat together in rapt discussion, totally oblivious to the magic blanketing the entire space. How blind did they have to be not to notice they were elbow-to-elbow with creatures who simply shouldn¡¯t exist? A lot of fae had very convincing glamour in place to make them look human, but they weren¡¯t all experts at it. Here and there were ¡°people¡± who were too impossibly beautiful to be real.


    I spotted a famous television actress at the bar, the star of a popular show about spoiled, rich New York teens. She threw her head back, gold hair glimmering as she laughed, and I didn¡¯t miss the eerie white glint in her eyes.


    Yeah, she was totally human.


    The three men lavishing drinks and attention upon her were fooled, but I wasn¡¯t. Fae, and a lot of other supernatural creatures, loved the draw of the spotlight. Since they could achieve whatever human appearance they wanted, it gave them an unfair upper hand in the fame game. The main problem was how quickly they got bored of it. The work, not the attention. A lot of famous overdoses and unexplained deaths were the result of a fae getting tired of playing a certain role.


    I hadn¡¯t thought much about it until I¡¯d met Calliope. The first time you come face-to-face with Marilyn Monroe and have the mystery of her death spelled out, you are suddenly willing to believe anything is possible.


    Fae don¡¯t care about death, unless they are the cause of it. They don¡¯t understand the fallout it has for humanity because they don¡¯t appreciate the limits of mortality. Some, like Calliope, were true immortals. An eighty-year lifespan seems laughable to someone who was born at the same time as the solar system.


    Humans were fireflies to true immortals. Fun to watch and play with, but ultimately disposable.


    I didn¡¯t want to believe Calliope felt like that, but I knew she didn¡¯t think about things the same way I did. If she had killed the boy, I wondered if it even registered to her that she shouldn¡¯t have.


    I watched the blonde actress a moment longer and pondered what sort of True Hollywood Story would be told about her short life in three or four more years. Natalie Wood still had my favorite. Maybe this girl would find a way to one-up the queen of Hollywood exits.


    Turning away from the group at the bar, I went to follow my party but stopped abruptly when I walked almost directly into a small, delicate woman. She was so compact she made me feel burly. And though she had a glamour in place, something about her felt unsettlingly familiar to me. The woman did not smile at me or try to pretend at pleasantness.


    ¡°You,¡± she said, her voice high and light but loaded with accusation.


    A man, tall and spindly and just as shockingly beautiful, came to stand beside her. Their light features and wide eyes were a mirror of each other, and there was no way to ignore they must be related.


    I still couldn¡¯t place them, but a shiver thrilled through me, a warning that I should move on.


    The small woman got a hold on my wrist before I could jerk away. Her skin was cold, but it felt like she was burning me.


    ¡°I remember you,¡± she whispered. ¡°You tainted it.¡±


    Tugging my arm free, I took two steps back. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    But I¡¯d heard those words before. At a different fae club, one where these two hadn¡¯t bothered hiding what they were. They¡¯d had white hair then, and skin the color and radiance of pearls. Their eyes had been inhumanly wide and round. I could see all that now, glimmering under the surface of the lie their faces projected.


    I¡¯d been carrying my katana then, and the woman had freaked out about it, claiming I¡¯d tainted the blade. Later I discovered it was bad form to kill vampires with a fae-wrought blade. It wasn¡¯t like I knew that at the time. Regardless of my ignorance, this chick had been offended.


    She moved towards me again, but this time I saw it coming and dodged her grasping fingers.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch me,¡± I warned.


    She withdrew her hand and sank into her brother¡¯s waiting arms. ¡°She yelled at me.¡±


    Was this girl for real?


    Holden came around the two fae to find me and eyed them warily. ¡°Did you get lost?¡± He kept his gaze focused on them even though his words were directed at me.


    ¡°Just ran into some old¡­friends,¡± I replied.


    He placed his hand between my shoulders, guiding me around the watchful fae siblings. ¡°What was that all about?¡± he asked once we were out of earshot.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±


    We caught up with Desmond and Carla, the woman standing well out of arm¡¯s reach from the werewolf. Neither of them looked terribly happy about being left alone with the other.


    ¡°It would be appreciated,¡± Carla began, ¡°if you wouldn¡¯t speak to the patrons while you¡¯re here.¡±


    I pursed my lips and gave her a cold glare. ¡°They stopped me.¡±


    Carla rolled her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡±


    We followed her to a narrow hall where she pointed to a door marked Private and then vanished as quickly as she¡¯d originally appeared. I was too pleased she was gone to worry about how she¡¯d disappeared so quietly. I moved away from the men to knock, but before my knuckles fell, the black door jerked open.


    I pulled my hand away before I accidentally knocked on the face of a small, grizzled Chinese woman. She was four and a half feet tall at best and leaned on a knotted wood cane, staring up at me with shiny, beadlike eyes. She reminded me of my great-grandmother La Sorciere. Having a scary nameless witch as your maternal figurehead made it easy to respect wee, ancient-looking women.


    If this woman was in charge of a fae club, she had power. She definitely wasn¡¯t human.


    She smiled, showing a dark mouth with mostly missing teeth. ¡°You¡¯re looking for someone, I understand?¡±


    That she knew why we were here when Carla hadn¡¯t stuck around to explain our presence only solidified my opinion she was a force to be reckoned with. Since neither Desmond nor Holden had butted in to take charge, I figured they must have sensed her power too.


    Great, a sass-mouthed hostess they were willing to deal with, but a pint-sized fae with no teeth was all up to me. Thanks, guys.


    I smiled back but had trouble holding the gesture.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt yourself, dear. That looks frightfully unnatural on you.¡± She stepped backwards into her office, leaving the doorway empty. I dusted my jaw off the floor and followed her in with the two men hesitant at my heels. ¡°Close the door,¡± she continued, ¡°and I¡¯ll tell you all about Kellen Rain.¡±


    Chapter Twenty-Two


    The owner¡¯s name, or at least the one she wanted us to use, was Gia. She got right down to business, which I liked about her. ¡°Your friend was here,¡± she told us.


    I nodded. That much we already knew. ¡°Where did she go after she left here?¡±


    Gia¡¯s smile had a faintly condescending quality to it. ¡°You¡¯re asking the wrong question.¡±


    I glanced over my shoulder to Holden and Desmond, hoping they might be able to offer me the right question, but both of them looked equally confused.


    ¡°You said she was here.¡±


    ¡°I did, and she was.¡±


    ¡°What we need to know is where she went.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Gia replied, giving her head a small shake. ¡°What you need to know is where she is.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I asked.¡± I was getting impatient and didn¡¯t want to sit here and argue semantics. This woman had the answers regardless of how I phrased my questions. She knew about Kellen, and that was what I needed her to tell me. When she said nothing, I added, ¡°Where is Kellen?¡±


    ¡°Gone.¡±


    Desmond gave an exasperated sigh, which told me he was feeling as happy about this game as I was. ¡°Gone where?¡± I needled, trying to keep the ball rolling.

 Page 20

    Gia opened the top drawer of her opulent desk and removed a black ledger. She thumbed through the pages until she found what she¡¯d been searching for and held the book out to me, waiting patiently until I took it from her steady hand.


    ¡°The left page is Miss Rain¡¯s debts.¡±


    Though the items listed were written in Chinese, the numeric value of the debts was written in standard numerals. The numbers were large, and they took up the full left-hand page. The tally at the bottom was a number over seven figures, which I found staggering.


    It had also been crossed out with a red pen and the number zero had been added beside the strikeout. ¡°It shows here her debts were paid.¡±


    ¡°No, my dear. It shows there her debt has been absolved.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°One does not simply pay debts here. Favors are exchanged, services rendered. These things are often done with promises of great wealth or treasures.¡±


    ¡°Kellen had the money to pay for this.¡± I pointed to the massive number. ¡°Even if she didn¡¯t, her family would have. Why are you making it sound as if she couldn¡¯t live up to her end of the bargain?¡± A cold chill had set up shop at the base of my spine and was steadily fanning out through my body. I didn¡¯t like where this conversation was going.


    I¡¯d never had to deal with the mob or debt collectors¡ªnot the kind who broke limbs instead of taking away your television, anyway. My experience was only in movies, and the way Gia was saying Kellen¡¯s debt was absolved sounded a hell of a lot like a euphemism for sleeps with the fishes to me. But killing Kellen would be senseless. She was loaded, and to the Rain family the amount she owed would barely be a drop in the bucket. It might make Lucas mad to pay it, but it certainly wouldn¡¯t ruin them.


    ¡°She promised something other than money,¡± Gia said. ¡°And she couldn¡¯t deliver.¡±


    ¡°What did she promise?¡± Holden asked before I had the chance.


    ¡°She promised herself. Kellen fell in with a fairy named Brokk who trades in pure happiness. But happiness like that comes at a cost, and Brokk has his requests. The time came where she had to fulfill, whether she liked it or not.¡±


    I went rigid in my seat, and Gia¡¯s gaze shifted from Holden to me. She smiled again, and this time I didn¡¯t feel any of the friendliness or warmth she¡¯d previously forced into the gesture. Now it was just as cold and empty as the people who frequented her club.


    ¡°Who is the fairy she owes a debt to?¡± My voice squeaked as I spoke.


    ¡°A member of the court of the fairy king.¡±


    I knew enough about the high fae to know this was no laughing matter. If werewolf royalty was archaic and a pain in the ass, fae royalty was on a whole other planet of absurdity.


    A literal other realm.


    ¡°She made a promise to a fae?¡±


    Holden cursed behind me, and Desmond said nothing. It was possible Desmond didn¡¯t understand how bad it was to owe something to a fae. You couldn¡¯t even thank a fairy without them thinking it meant you were in the red with them. Kellen couldn¡¯t have known the implications of her actions.


    ¡°She didn¡¯t know,¡± I told Gia. ¡°There was no way she would promise herself to a fairy if she really understood.¡±


    ¡°The girl came to our club, and she came often.¡± Gia tapped the ledger as if I was supposed to understand the story the Chinese scrawl was telling me. ¡°She made her bed. And now she will lie in it. Perhaps it will not be so bad for her. He does specialize in happiness after all. Maybe you should let her be.¡±


    ¡°Where is she?¡± I demanded, rising to my feet and slamming the ledger down on Gia¡¯s desk.


    The small woman raised her wrinkled face to me, and the smile was gone. ¡°She is beyond the gate. Your friend has been taken by the fairies, child. You will never see her again.¡±


    Outside the air had a chill to it, reminding me spring was not always willing to easily yield to summer. I beat both men to the car and was pacing in front of it while I waited for them to show up. Leave it to Kellen to fall into debt with the fae and be spirited away by the fucking fairies.


    ¡°What does she mean taken by the fairies?¡± Desmond asked when he reached me. ¡°Is that a code for something?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Remember when I took you to the Oracle?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°We were beyond the gate then.¡±


    ¡°Technically,¡± Holden interrupted as he came to the driver¡¯s door, ¡°you were inside the gate. Calliope¡¯s mansion is the gatehouse. It¡¯s a way to get to and from the realms. Your friend¡¯s sister is on the other side of the Oracle.¡±


    Desmond didn¡¯t say anything, though Holden had dropped a lot of knowledge with one little speech. ¡°If we want to find her,¡± the vampire continued, ¡°the Oracle is our only hope.¡±


    I stiffened. Normally I¡¯d be the first one to say, We¡¯re off to see the Oracle, but right now I was pretty sure Calliope was killing humans. Not a hundred percent sure, but not convinced of her innocence either. I couldn¡¯t exactly waltz into her home and ask for a favor when I was half certain she was a murderer.


    She¡¯d know.


    But Holden was right. If we were going to find Kellen, and Kellen was with the fairies, Calliope was our one slim shot in hell of getting to her. I cursed loudly and kicked the car tire. ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± I hissed. ¡°How the hell did she get herself in this kind of trouble? Goddammit.¡±


    Holden frowned at me. ¡°Honestly, love, there¡¯s no need to take it out on the car.¡±


    Bracing my hands on the roof of the car, I glared at him. ¡°Would you prefer I take it out on you?¡±


    The vampire clucked his tongue at me and started to say something else, but Desmond interrupted. ¡°Maybe, before we let this tension get too far, we should go see the Oracle. Okay?¡±


    I didn¡¯t like it, but what was to like?


    If I wanted to bring Kellen home, I needed Calliope¡¯s help.


    After a brief stop at home to collect my katana, some spare bullet clips and a few assorted weapons, we made our way to Calliope¡¯s. I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect from the fae world, but I didn¡¯t think I wanted to go in without protection.


    Not so long ago the sight of the Starbucks down the block from my house came as a relief to me. It was my safe place, a refuge from the insanity of the world around me. I used to come for advice, for blood, or to see someone I thought was my friend.


    But if my friend was a murderer¡­


    I didn¡¯t know how to finish that sentence. For the first time since mentally accusing Calliope of Petey the Pizza Boy¡¯s death, I had to ask myself why it mattered that Calliope might have killed him.


    I worked daily with vampires, people who had been alive long before they started to obey the rules of the council. Sig and Juan Carlos had been killers in their human lives. I was kidding myself if I didn¡¯t think Holden had killed anyone. Even Keaty was a killer for a living.


    And what about me?


    What a hypocrite I was for getting up on my high horse and looking down on someone else for being a killer, when it was all I¡¯d done with my own life since I was sixteen. Until I had real answers, I couldn¡¯t start judging anyone based on their murderous habits.


    It only felt different because it was a teenage boy. And because I thought Calliope was above that sort of thing.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    Holden could go through the gate on his own, but Desmond was another story. Desmond was technically extra forbidden in Calliope¡¯s realm. First, because he was a werewolf, and shifters were notoriously unstable in fae realms, and second, because the Oracle had outright forbidden me from ever bringing him back.


    But he was staying with me until we got to the bottom of the whole Kellen situation. I was worried if I let Desmond out of my sight for even a moment, Lucas would manage to make him disappear. God knows what would happen if I went into a fairy realm. I might come back out and find Desmond was long gone and there was no easy way for me to get him home again.


    So the wolf was staying with me until I brought Kellen home.


    I took Desmond¡¯s hand and held tight as we approached the entrance to the coffee shop. The gate to Calliope¡¯s realm was designed to allow through only those in need of her aid. I was pretty damned sure we qualified, but whenever I came to the passage with anyone else, I had the nagging worry it wouldn¡¯t let me through.


    Don¡¯t let today be that day, I thought.


    Holden passed through first, and instead of stepping into the foyer of the Starbucks, he vanished. One down, two to go.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let go,¡± I instructed.


    Desmond said nothing but squeezed my hand firmly. I approached the door and pulled us both through. Normally a faint tingling sensation was all that accompanied my transition through the pass. Stepping in this time felt like entering a vacuum, which was the first sign something wasn¡¯t right. Desmond¡¯s hand tightened on mine so fiercely my bones felt like they were grinding against each other. I tried to call out in protest, but the air was sucked from my lungs, leaving me gasping.


    When I looked at Desmond, his face was pale, and he was clutching the front of his shirt. He couldn¡¯t breathe either. I kept trying to suck in air, but it was about as fruitful as a fish on dry land gasping for water.


    Then the cold came, chilling me so suddenly I wondered if we hadn¡¯t been dropped into ice and frozen solid. Shivers racked my body, setting my teeth chattering and covering my skin in goose bumps. Desmond¡¯s hand felt clammy and waxy in my own, like he wasn¡¯t real anymore.


    I tugged him onward, not sure anymore if we were actually moving, or if we were going in the right direction. It was obvious we couldn¡¯t stay where we were, though. He resisted. His nails dug in, and in an instant they weren¡¯t human nails anymore. His lupine claws shredded my skin like Kleenex. I didn¡¯t want to let go, but the agony of his claws burned through my wrist like my bones themselves were made of hot coals. I screamed soundlessly and swiped out at him.


    It wasn¡¯t until the blood pooled on his forearm that I realized my own hand had transformed.

 Page 21

    We stared at each other, truly breathless, and I understood what was happening. We were too close to the full moon, and now that I¡¯d changed, I could no longer control my wolf in Calliope¡¯s realm. I started to panic, wondering if we¡¯d be trapped here forever, however short a time that would be without air, when the vacuum gave way.


    Desmond and I, both bloody and gasping, stumbled through the other side of the passage and found ourselves safely in Calliope¡¯s waiting room. A fire was burning, and Holden stood next to the Oracle, waiting for us. Desmond pulled his claws free from my wrist and collapsed on the rug, sucking in air and holding the wounds on his forearm. I cradled my brutalized wrist in the crook of my arm and tried to keep my half-wolf hand hidden.


    It was pointless. Neither of them missed that we¡¯d staggered into the room claws-deep in each other.


    Holden¡¯s nostrils flared as the scent of fresh blood filled the room.


    Calliope, wearing a crimson-colored satin party dress, her black hair hanging in loose waves over her shoulders, gave Desmond and me a cursory once-over.


    ¡°Secret, you promised me.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Yet here you are, and here he is, and it seems once again you¡¯re asking me to break my rules for you.¡± She crossed her arms and frowned, her supple lips turning into a delicate pout. It was almost offensive how beautiful Calliope was.


    ¡°We need your help,¡± I said.


    ¡°Clearly.¡±


    I followed her gaze to Desmond and watched him tremble. A line of hair grew and then faded on his neck. Over his body the same thing was happening¡ªcoarse hair appearing and instantly vanishing, seemingly in time with his heartbeat. Just watching him made a shudder rumble through me. My wolf could smell his wolf, and she wanted to accept the invitation to come out.


    I had to look away from Desmond. I wanted to help him, to hold him until he got himself under control, but I was certain the moment I touched him my humanity would melt away entirely and we¡¯d all be screwed.


    My inner wolf wasn¡¯t exactly a good listener.


    Holden seemed to sense the internal dilemma I was wrestling with and came to stand beside me, placing a hand on the back of my neck like Desmond had done in the elevator. His touch felt blissfully cool against my too-hot skin. Just his touch and the nearness of the scent of vampire helped me pull back from the edge. The bones of my hand realigned¡ªvery painfully¡ªbut by the time I glanced down again they were normal.


    ¡°Now him,¡± I said, pointing to Desmond. I still didn¡¯t trust myself with touching him.


    The vampire hesitated until one glare from me, and he grumbled but did as I asked. He bent over Desmond¡¯s shuddering form and put his hand on the werewolf¡¯s neck. Desmond jerked, but Holden didn¡¯t back away. He lowered, whispered something to the wolf, and Desmond went still.


    For a long moment I wasn¡¯t sure if it had worked, but then Desmond let out a sigh and got to his feet. His claws had retracted, and he didn¡¯t have any hair other than what he was meant to.


    One problem down.


    I looked to Calliope, her mouth set in a firm line. She was angry with me, and I wasn¡¯t sure if it was solely because I¡¯d broken her No Werewolves rule. She motioned for us to follow her. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with, shall we? If you thought this was dramatic, you have no idea what you¡¯re in for on the other side.¡±


    Thankfully being pissed didn¡¯t impact Calliope¡¯s hospitality. She provided fresh blood for Holden and me, and made sure Desmond had eaten about half a cow, before she explained what we should expect from the other side. I gathered we¡¯d be needing all our strength for this coming experience.


    ¡°Did Gia say what Kellen had promised?¡± Calliope asked as she walked us down one of the many winding halls of her estate.


    Desmond, his voice gruffer than usual, replied, ¡°From what we were told, she promised herself.¡±


    Calliope stopped walking and turned to face Desmond. ¡°Are you sure? Those exact words?¡±


    Not accustomed to being under the direct scrutiny of Calliope¡¯s gaze, Desmond stammered for a moment before answering, ¡°Yes.¡±


    The Oracle drummed her nails on the wooden door we¡¯d stopped in front of. ¡°That¡¯s¡­complicated.¡±


    ¡°How complicated?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re going to be able to get her back,¡± Calliope admitted. ¡°If I had to guess, I¡¯d say she met one of the high court, he whispered some sweet nothings, and she said something you stupid human girls are wont to say. I¡¯m all yours or some such nonsense. To a fairy lord, that¡¯s a promise. In our laws, he has every right to lay claim to her.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me.¡± I chose to overlook her lumping me in with stupid human girls.


    ¡°If I were kidding, Secret, you wouldn¡¯t be running off to the fairy realm to reclaim a missing girl, would you?¡±


    I bit my tongue.


    ¡°This one is going to be difficult for you.¡± She pointed to Desmond. ¡°I can promise you¡¯re going to regret bringing him.¡±


    ¡°No more than I¡¯d regret leaving him here.¡±


    ¡°I never thought I¡¯d say this, but I wish your fate was clearer.¡± She grabbed my hands, not bothering to look at the palms, and gave them a squeeze. ¡°I don¡¯t know how this is going to end for you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I assured her, although I had no way to know that, and I was hoping she¡¯d be telling me I had nothing to fear. ¡°Cal? Can I ask you something before I go?¡±


    ¡°About the boy.¡±


    I had anticipated she would know. She was the Oracle after all. She might not know if I¡¯d live to see tomorrow, but she knew I wanted to accuse her of murder. Funny how that worked.


    ¡°Did you¡­?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± She rubbed my hands between hers, warming them. ¡°I knew him, but I didn¡¯t kill him. You¡¯ll find out soon enough, lovely, that I am not the only one of my kind. Though I wish it didn¡¯t have to be this way.¡±


    ¡°Why would this have been the last place he visited?¡±


    Calliope ran a thumb over my knuckle and frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t like to speculate when I don¡¯t know the answer.¡±


    ¡°Can you try?¡±


    ¡°This house is a gateway, as you know. But for the fae, there is no need to come into the mansion. They can simply use the doorway to come and go as they please. They don¡¯t require my permission. If I were to guess, the young man ran afoul of a fae passing through.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it? Wrong time, wrong place?¡±


    ¡°That or someone isn¡¯t fond of the wayward monarchy and they¡¯re doing it to intentionally frame me.¡± She smiled again, weariness showing in her eyes. ¡°But I don¡¯t know.¡±


    She let me go and turned to Desmond. With renewed intensity, she prodded him in the chest with her finger. ¡°You. This is not the end I was talking about. Understand me?¡±


    The werewolf nodded.


    Lastly she looked at Holden and gave him a sad smile. ¡°Chancery.¡±


    ¡°Oracle.¡±


    ¡°You bring her home to me.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Calliope withdrew a key from around her neck and slid it into the lock on the door. The click of the tumblers was louder than any lock I¡¯d heard before and sent a shiver rolling over me. When she pushed the door open, the inside was all darkness. At least this time she hadn¡¯t needed my blood to get me through.


    ¡°Secret?¡± she said, as she stepped aside from the opening.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Give my love to my brother, won¡¯t you?¡±


    Before I could respond, she shoved me into the empty void of the open door.


    Chapter Twenty-Three


    Knowing the half-fairy Oracle has a door in her house that leads to the top of the Empire State building had given me the unfair impression Calliope would deliver us directly where we needed to go. Her otherworldly GPS was on the fritz, though, because we were not anywhere near where I believed we had to be.


    We were nowhere near anything.


    The night sky was a twilight purple so vibrant I could see everything around me without the aid of standard moonlight, which was for the best because this world appeared to have four moons and none of them were bright enough to see squat by. Each of the four was in a different phase, but neither the full nor new moons had completed their transition.


    The three of us stood in a field of luminous red flowers that bore a passing resemblance to poppies. Except the only time poppies started glowing on Earth was if you ate them. The center of the blossoms around us shone like the red hand of a Don¡¯t Walk sign. I didn¡¯t know whether to take it as a warning or just appreciate how beautiful it was.


    Last time Calliope had transported Desmond and me somewhere, the journey hadn¡¯t been gentle. We¡¯d landed hard on a cold roof with the force of being dropped from great height. This time we¡¯d walked through a door and onto another plane of existence as easily as if we¡¯d stepped into another room of her house.


    Nevertheless, it was a disconcerting shift of reality, and I was left feeling dizzy and out of sorts. Small insectlike creatures flitted to and from the glowing flowers, and when they bounced off the centers, they giggled and began to shimmer. Considering how dark it was, the amount of ambient light should have made me feel like I was in New York. But in New York bugs didn¡¯t giggle and there weren¡¯t four moons.


    Dragging my gaze from the undulating field, I turned towards my travel companions. Holden¡¯s hair had become mussed in the journey, slipping from behind his ears and showing its length in a roguish, Austen-era-hero manner. His pale skin reflected the redness of the flowers, giving his cheeks a blush quality that made him look alive. Really alive.


    My heart caught in my throat, and I struggled to swallow, overwhelmed by the shock of his beauty in this light. I imagined this was like seeing him in his living years, when he was a farmhand in England and didn¡¯t know a damned thing about the world of vampires.


    I¡¯d never seen Holden dazzled by anything. Two hundred years can show a man a lot of things, but I doubted any of us had seen something like the world we¡¯d been dropped into. And this was only one part of it.

 Page 22

    When I checked Desmond to see how he was handling our surroundings, the difference between the two hit me like a physical slap. Where Holden looked newly vital, Desmond was positively ashen. His usual olive complexion was nearly gray, and his eyes were watery. Sweat coated his face, and his jaw was rigid with barely restrained pain.


    ¡°Desmond?¡± I inched towards him, hand outstretched, but when I was almost to him, he jerked away with a growl.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± he said through gritted teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡±


    He pulled his arms tight against himself, drawing my attention to how dark his arm hair was in contrast to his skin. Dark and a bit too long.


    ¡°Oh, Jesus. Des¡­¡±


    He closed his eyes, and a hard shudder rocked his body. Sweat dripped down his forehead and off his chin, and with each new shake the hair on his arms grew and then receded. He was fighting the urge to change with all his power, and it wasn¡¯t until I saw his response that I thought to see how my own wolf felt in the new environment.


    Since my first experience shifting as an adult, I¡¯d had to keep a careful leash on my inner wolf. She¡¯d had a taste of freedom and she¡¯d abused the hell out of it, letting me know I wasn¡¯t in the driver¡¯s seat at all when it came to being furry. But while Desmond was struggling hard with his wolf, mine seemed content to just be curious for the time being. The pull of the moons wasn¡¯t impacting her, at least not so far as I could feel. I didn¡¯t know for sure what would happen if Desmond shifted fully though. It had been during a mass shift that I¡¯d lost control the first time. Given the reaction I¡¯d had coming through Calliope¡¯s gate, I didn¡¯t want to take any chances here.


    I wanted to comfort Desmond, but at what risk to myself? Could I afford to lose control with Kellen¡¯s life on the line?


    I took another step towards him, but even with his eyes closed, he winced.


    Holden caught my extended hand and pulled me back from Desmond. ¡°Careful there,¡± the vampire whispered. ¡°Calliope had her rules for a reason. Out here I don¡¯t think there are any.¡±


    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t leave him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­fine,¡± Desmond managed to choke out.


    ¡°You¡¯re not fine,¡± I insisted. ¡°You¡¯re so far from fine.¡±


    ¡°Secret,¡± he growled. ¡°Let¡¯s go. When I stop¡­being fine¡­¡±


    ¡°I suspect we¡¯ll know,¡± Holden finished for him.


    Desmond smiled grimly in response.


    I didn¡¯t love the idea of traveling with a werewolf on the brink of a shift, but if my options were to go forward with him, or leave him behind¡­it was a no-brainer. I wouldn¡¯t leave Desmond. I¡¯d never again intentionally do anything to put him in harm¡¯s way. I¡¯d hurt him without thinking so many times. Now it was within my control to keep him close, and I was damned well going to do it.


    I could tell from Holden¡¯s frown he didn¡¯t agree with me, but it wasn¡¯t his choice. That he didn¡¯t argue further made me more thankful than he could realize. If I had an out-of-control supernatural beastie in my party, I didn¡¯t need an asshole tagging along too.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go¡­¡± I started to instruct, but a cold, painful tingling ran up my spine. The tingling became an icy burn, and I realized it was the sword at my back. With all urgency and no grace I ripped the sling off my shoulder, and the weapon dropped to the ground. It cackled like a cloud of cicadas, and the chill I felt now had nothing to do with the burn.


    The small glowing creatures that had taken no notice of us before were suddenly everywhere. First one, then a half-dozen, then what seemed like hundreds, darted closer, inspecting the fallen sword before swooping away. They made small chittering noises, which would have sounded amazing under different circumstances, but as it was they gave the sense of foreboding. Too many creatures making too much noise, and none of it was friendly.


    The hair on the back of my neck rose, and the insect-things formed into a cloud, moving together as one entity, glowing from their interaction with the flowers. With their red coloring and the way they bobbed and weaved through the sky, I didn¡¯t have a warm and fuzzy feeling about their presence.


    ¡°Guys¡­¡±


    Desmond made a throaty growl that did nothing to improve my outlook on our situation.


    ¡°A fine piece of work here,¡± came a voice on the opposite side of the swirling cloud. ¡°Can¡¯t say as I¡¯ve ever seen the ellyllon react with violence this quickly before.¡±


    The voice was feminine without being girly but had a roughness that implied masculinity. It held traces of an accent, and though its English was perfect, it used the slow formality of someone who wasn¡¯t accustomed to speaking it often.


    When it spoke again it was in words that were not of any language I knew. The tone was commanding, but uttered in a singsong quality. The cloud of red glowing creatures it had referred to as the ellyllon clucked and hissed back at the new arrival, but after a few moments of this bizarre exchange the cloud dissolved and the small glowing creatures flew away, scattering in every direction. I scooped down to collect my sword, which was still warm to the touch.


    Once the cloud had parted, we could finally get a look at our savior. Given the voice we¡¯d heard, I was surprised to see a young man standing before us, or at least he appeared to be male. He was tall and lean, his limbs spindly like tree branches. His skin was smeared with mud, but in bare patches I could see he was as pale white as Holden. Bright green eyes like those of a cat shone in the light from the moons, and his black hair stuck out like a young mad scientist.


    His clothes, if they could be called that, were a tapestry of dead leaves and moss, woven together in an elaborate knit that managed to keep his body modestly covered. His feet were bare, but he seemed comfortable standing amongst the pants. I¡¯d never seen anyone who belonged outdoors quite like he did.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I ventured cautiously.


    ¡°Greetings.¡± That was it. A simple reply with a slight nod. He offered nothing more.


    ¡°Um¡­¡± I looked to Holden, hoping he might offer some assistance in how to deal with the locals, but he was staring at the young man as if he were more fantastic than the cloud of whirring, angry insects had been.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Desmond asked, his voice rough and threatening, though I didn¡¯t believe he¡¯d intended to sound so fierce.


    The woodsman was amused. ¡°I am not the one who has appeared in the middle of nowhere, clearly from the Lady Calliope¡¯s gate. I am not the one who should be interviewed.¡± He smiled lightly, stepping from foot to foot. ¡°But to be polite is a gift, yes? And I rarely get company. My name is Ghillie Dhu.¡±


    Holden let out a small huffing noise, then said, ¡°Certainly not.¡±


    ¡°Apologies,¡± Ghillie said, not sounding apologetic at all. ¡°But are you certain I am not?¡± He smiled at Holden, edging a step closer, keeping his hands by his sides.


    Holden ignored the advance and addressed me instead. ¡°Ghillie Dhu was an old Scottish fairy tale. A tree guardian. This is absurd.¡±


    ¡°I hate to break it to you, Holden, but I think if you consider where we are, there¡¯s a solid chance he¡¯s exactly who he says he is.¡±


    Ghillie rocked on his heels and grinned. ¡°Yes, yes. Listen to the lady. Very wise are women, are they not?¡±


    Holden snorted but held his tongue.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I replied, stooping to pick up my sword, hesitant to touch it. ¡°What happened with those¡­things?¡±


    ¡°The ellyllon? They responded to that.¡± He pointed to my blade. ¡°Anything tainted causes wildness in them. And in turn, the object responds unkindly to the ellyllon.¡±


    ¡°Unkindly is one word for it.¡± I wrapped my hand around the sword¡¯s handle, trying to determine if it was safe to carry. With the insect-fae gone, the weapon had returned to normal. ¡°Seems okay now,¡± I said, mostly to myself.


    ¡°Marvelous, marvelous. And who, pray, has the Lady Calliope sent us?¡±


    ¡°My name is Secret.¡± I placed my palm over my chest after slinging the sword back over my shoulder.


    ¡°Ah. Not known, nor seen. Not meant to be known nor seen. Yet here you are, both seen and known. Delightful.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­sure. This is Holden.¡±


    ¡°A dead one.¡±


    I hazarded a glance at Holden in time to see him sneer. ¡°I won¡¯t be the only dead¡ª¡±


    ¡°And this is Desmond,¡± I interjected, steering Ghillie¡¯s attention to the werewolf.


    ¡°My my. A cabinet of curiosities, I dare say. Are they presents for the king? I don¡¯t believe he has any wishes for a dead one and a wolf.¡±


    At the mention of the king I perked up considerably. ¡°No, they are my companions.¡±


    Ghillie gave a knowing smirk, making me regret my choice of words. ¡°Intrigue.¡±


    ¡°You mentioned the king. Do you know where we can find him?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± His brows knit together, and his countenance shifted from jovial to suspicious in a heartbeat. ¡°If you are not delivering him gifts, what do you want with the king?¡±


    ¡°He can return something of mine that has been taken,¡± I replied. ¡°Someone.¡±


    Ghillie looked from me to the men standing on either side of me. ¡°The lady is greedy.¡±


    It was the second time in only a couple hours I¡¯d been called greedy for my collection of men. I sighed and tried to ignore the implication. It was hard to be offended when someone called you out on your harem, regardless of whether or not I was sleeping with both of them.


    ¡°My friend has been brought here against her will,¡± I clarified.


    ¡°My darling lady,¡± Ghillie said, stooping into a low bow. ¡°You must certainly know¡­nothing brought to the fae can be returned easily. Not even your friend.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I will take you to the king to state your case, and he will name his price.¡±


    ¡°His price?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes. It is time to start thinking¡­what is the life of your friend worth to you?¡±

 Page 23

    Chapter Twenty-Four


    Keeping focused within the confines of a fairy reality was about as easy as being logical inside a dream. I knew I was here for a purpose, and Kellen¡¯s future depended on me being sharp, but nothing felt real. It was hard to keep my eyes on the prize¡ªso to speak¡ªwhen all I wanted to do was stare at everything around us.


    If New York was famous for being dazzling and marvelous¡ªa sight to behold¡ªthen the fae world was the definition of awesome. Not in the overused, teenage-girl sense of the word, but in the literal sense of it striking awe into the beholder.


    We followed Ghillie through the field and a thicket of trees until we found ourselves on a silver road, glittering brilliantly in the moonlight, like fresh fallen snow. On either side of the road were waving fields of flowers, their petals open wide to embrace the night. In the distance, like a dream or the backdrop of a Disney princess movie, was a pearl-white palace. It could have been plucked from a German mountain, with its spires and fortressed walls. But it looked like it had been dipped in sugar, dulling the violent edge of the old Gothic style.


    The night felt young, and the darkness had no fleeting sensation to it, but the castle was a long way off, and I didn¡¯t know if there was anywhere we¡¯d be safe to hide if the moons vanished and the sun came out.


    I didn¡¯t know if Ghillie would help us in that situation, so I kept quiet and followed the tree guardian as he strolled casually ahead of us, his bare feet coated in the fine sparkling silt of the road.


    ¡°We trust this guy?¡± Holden whispered to me.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t got much of a choice, do we?¡±


    He huffed. ¡°Come on, Dorothy. We don¡¯t need the Scarecrow for this. You, me and the Cowardly Werewolf could take it alone from here.¡±


    I stopped walking and stared at him. At least he¡¯d been honest enough in his analogy to color himself in the role of the heartless Tin Man. ¡°And if we come up on a swarm of pissed-off bugs? Or worse? Need I remind you about the bog fae?¡± My hand reflexively went to the back of my head, where a homicidal fae had once slipped its tongue beneath my skin. I shuddered. ¡°You¡¯re forgetting we¡¯re not in Kansas anymore,¡± I grumbled. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s out here, and I¡¯d rather travel with him than do it alone.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to,¡± I reminded him.


    ¡°You know,¡± Ghillie interjected from farther up the road, ¡°I can still hear you.¡±


    I stared at Holden, waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do. ¡°You can stay or you can come. But I need to get Kellen.¡±


    The vampire frowned, his brown eyes dark and full of annoyance. ¡°Secret¡­¡±


    ¡°Look. We¡¯re going. You can hang on to that I told you so, and when the time is right, I won¡¯t even argue with you for using it. But please, for now, can we do this my way?¡±


    His lips thinned into a line, but he didn¡¯t argue with me. Desmond, a ways back on the road with his arms wrapped around himself and his skin more sallow than before, piped in. ¡°Cowardly Werewolf my ass.¡±


    I sighed. I could take my boys out of the human world, but I couldn¡¯t make them behave like grown adults no matter where I brought them. I swore if I dragged them into the fiery pits of hell, they¡¯d still be bickering like little old ladies the whole way down.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Holden said.


    Ghillie was still walking, having gained a significant amount of ground while we stood around and fought, but when he spoke again, it was evident he had been listening the whole time. ¡°Marvelous, marvelous. Now we may continue.¡±


    He was an odd guy.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what I had anticipated from a fae tree guardian. Really I wasn¡¯t sure what I expected at all from this world. It was more sparkly than a Mormon vampire, and so bizarre it would make it difficult for me to find anything in the real world strange after we left.


    Providing we did leave.


    I didn¡¯t love Ghillie¡¯s announcement that bringing Kellen home would have its costs. It wasn¡¯t so much I¡¯d thought it would be easy to reclaim her, but I thought I¡¯d be walking into a fight, not a barter. Fighting was something I understood. I wasn¡¯t terribly good at wheeling and dealing. My credit card bills were a testament to that.


    Briefly I wondered if I might be able to petition them to swap one Rain for another, give me Kellen back and take Lucas in her place. The idea of sending Lucas into an alternate reality to be a fairy¡¯s bitch had some appeal to it.


    Dealing with the pack fallout did not, however.


    I sighed and placed one hand on each of Holden¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I need you to be with me on this. Tell me you¡¯re here to help.¡±


    Holden, back to his surly best, glared at me. ¡°I¡¯m here to help.¡± And he would be. If he¡¯d stuck it out with me through the boggy backwoods of Louisiana, then by God he would stick this out with me too.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    There were days being a New Yorker paid off in the strangest ways. Walking all over hell¡¯s half acre in the fae realm turned out to be one of them. Were I not accustomed to walking everywhere already, the long jaunt to the palace would have exhausted me.


    As it was, my feet were starting to protest the distance. Was there something this trek was supposed to teach me? Or was Calliope trying to punish me for thinking she was a murderer by making me walk for miles instead of just dropping me at the front door?


    The more I considered the latter option, the more it sounded like something I might do, but I wasn¡¯t sure how Calliope would deal with her anger.


    I had drifted free of the men, trying to give Desmond whatever space he might need and not wanting to make it appear like I was favoring Holden¡¯s company. Jealousy or any kind of heightened emotion might be all it took to push Desmond over the edge, and I was hoping to keep him in his human form until we were able to leave the fae realm.


    My lips parted to sigh, but before the sound had a chance to escape Ghillie came to an abrupt stop. ¡°My lady, rest assured, we are very nearly there.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything,¡± I protested.


    ¡°You needn¡¯t speak to express your concerns. I can see your feelings all over your face.¡±


    I wondered if he¡¯d meant it literally. The fae would be just the kind of being to have a magic way to read thoughts and emotions off your skin. Or some such thing. Who the hell knew what the fae could do? They could hide inside human bodies, breathe water and feed on the auras of virginal teens. I wasn¡¯t about to make assumptions.


    ¡°Stop reading my face, Ghillie.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± He ducked his chin low with a nod, the woven fabric of his garment stirring in the light wind. The scent of him was familiar and odd all at once. Like a good friend¡¯s perfume being worn by a stranger. The moss and leaves of his wardrobe smelled earthy¡ªrightly so¡ªmuch like the way my wolves smelled close to the full moon. But there was a coldness to the smell that made me uneasy. A sharp fragrance that burned the inside of my nostrils the way a deep breath on a winter day might.


    My inner wolf¡¯s ruff went up, and the tingle of fangs itched inside my gums. Both of my monsters were warning me to be mindful of him, and my common sense was more than willing to listen. I didn¡¯t think Ghillie wished us any ill will. He seemed genuine enough. But the fae rarely did anything without a selfish motive.


    I wanted to know what Ghillie¡¯s motives were.


    ¡°Did you know we were coming?¡± I asked him.


    Holden held back on the road, and when we had come to a stop, Desmond crouched down low, keeping his head nestled between his forearms. Both of them were watching me and the wood fae now. The vampire didn¡¯t move a muscle, and the wolf kept making short, harsh breathing sounds.


    ¡°There were whispers,¡± Ghillie said.


    ¡°Do I look like I want to play a game of Guess that Riddle? Let¡¯s dispense with the talking in circles and poetry, can we?¡± Catching a familiar bitchy tone sneaking into my voice, I bit my lip to keep from saying anything I might regret and paused a beat before continuing. ¡°Tell me why you¡¯re helping us.¡±


    ¡°Graciousness.¡±


    Holden snorted.


    Ghillie¡¯s gaze shifted from me to the vampire, and for the first time since our arrival I saw something unmistakably unfriendly in the fae¡¯s countenance.


    ¡°Holden,¡± I said without looking at him, ¡°can you give Ghillie and me some privacy?¡±


    He didn¡¯t have to say anything to project his unhappiness, I could practically feel the weight of his glare boring into the back of my head. Ignoring him, I kept my attention on Ghillie and knew the vampire had walked away when the fae finally turned his attention to me.


    ¡°The company you keep, miss¡­¡±


    ¡°My companions are my concern.¡±


    ¡°They may be everyone¡¯s concern if you do not manage them better.¡±


    ¡°I will keep them under control. Now tell me what these whispers were.¡±


    ¡°I heard one of the court had a new keepsake. Very pretty. Very¡­spirited.¡± He was describing Kellen as if she were a thoroughbred pony. Fine breeding stock. I wondered briefly if the fae who¡¯d taken her considered himself her owner.


    If Ghillie thought my men belonged to me, I didn¡¯t see how Kellen¡¯s new keeper would think any differently of her.


    Days like today made me long for a life where I worked at a desk job. If there really were infinite universes full of infinite possibilities, I wished there was a way for someone to transport me to that reality.


    ¡°What does that have to do with me?¡±


    ¡°We heard she wasn¡¯t fair game. Heard she wasn¡¯t meant to be taken. Too many messes.¡±


    ¡°Your whispers got something right.¡±


    ¡°We knew someone would come.¡±


    ¡°And here I am.¡±


    ¡°Here you are,¡± he repeated. ¡°And it is my job to take anyone sent by the Lady Calliope and deliver them to His Majesty. You understand.¡±


    The use of His Majesty made me think of Lucas, and my belly twisted unpleasantly. ¡°I understand all too well.¡±

 Page 24

    Chapter Twenty-Five


    I¡¯d never been to Disneyland, and after seeing the king¡¯s palace up close wouldn¡¯t soon have any need to. What could a man-made fictional castle fabricated from drywall and plaster do to match up to the awe-striking splendor of a building unlike any I¡¯d laid eyes on in my life?


    I didn¡¯t tend to think of things in poetic terms, it wasn¡¯t how my mind worked, and I¡¯d even scolded Ghillie for his bard-like leanings during our walk. But it was hard to see the shimmering edifices and walls that seemed to ripple and wave in the moonlight and not think of them in the terms dead poets would use to describe their lovers.


    We passed under a gate, a set of armed guards hanging back when they saw Ghillie approach. As we moved into the large courtyard behind the wall, the palace itself beamed down on us with the bright glory of a second sun, lighting up the space in a white gleam so beautiful it made my heart ache.


    Fae of various sizes moved out of the lit areas and into the shadows as we approached, sinking into the night and nearly out of my sight. I saw fairies¡ªthe high fae¡ªand the familiar forms of hobs, and what I suspected must be pixies, not that I¡¯d seen one before. But tiny flying women were few and far between, and they looked like Tinkerbell.


    That is, if Tinkerbell had bloodstains around her mouth and wore tattered dead rose petals as dresses. Apparently my mental image of pixies had nothing right except they were small and had wings. If these critters had an attitude half as bad as Tinkerbell¡¯s, they must be the fae version of mosquitoes.


    ¡°This way,¡± Ghillie directed, stealing my attention away from the fae moving about in the shadows.


    One of the pixies made a high-pitched snarling noise at us. In response, Desmond unleashed a growl so menacing it wouldn¡¯t have been any scarier if he¡¯d been in wolf form. It served to silence the pixie and make everyone else in the courtyard shut up as well. I hadn¡¯t realized anyone had been speaking until their whispers hushed.


    So much for keeping our entrance low-key.


    Unperturbed, Ghillie crooked two fingers in the direction of our party and climbed the steps of the palace without further instruction. Holden moved ahead of me and was the first to get to the top of the steps. Ghillie stiffened, visibly uncomfortable to be close to the vampire.


    If I got out of this without one of them dying, it would be a miracle.


    I¡¯d buy a lottery ticket to celebrate.


    I climbed the stairs and waited for Desmond to follow, which he did slowly while continuing to watch the fae surrounding us. The whole group held their collective breath. The moment Desmond slipped by me I heard an audible sigh.


    The shine of the palace vanished as soon as we stepped inside. The highly polished floors were marble with veins of quartz seemingly lit from below, but they were almost the only form of illumination. The walls were dark¡ªnot painted black, but made of shadows instead of raw material.


    The ceiling swam with pink and green light, muted into near oblivion, but much like the Northern Lights on a smaller scale.


    It should have been beautiful. It should have made me feel awed and dazzled and all those pretty, charming things. Instead I felt cold, uneasy, and the smell of the interior reminded me of a funeral home. Not dead, but devoid of warmth.


    This was the last place I wanted to be.


    My wolf stirred, whining internally, begging me to turn around and get the hell out of dodge.


    Usually I didn¡¯t take her at her urges, but I couldn¡¯t help but think she was right about this one. Regardless of what my wolf suggested, I held my ground and stood inside the entrance hall, letting the shiver of uneasiness skitter over my skin like a million tiny bugs. I liked the outside much better than the inside.


    ¡°Follow me, please,¡± Ghillie directed.


    ¡°Does it get darker?¡± I asked, not liking the hitch in my voice.


    ¡°Everything must get dark before there is light. His Majesty is the light.¡±


    ¡°And we must pass through darkness to reach him?¡±


    Ghillie pointed to the end of the long hall where the light from the floor and ceiling faded away and the bleak nothingness was complete. Pitch-black.


    ¡°Go that way.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say follow you?¡±


    ¡°To the end¡­then you will go alone.¡±


    ¡°Awesome.¡± I touched my gun and sword, reminding myself I had protection.


    ¡°Are you afraid of the dark?¡± Holden interrupted.


    ¡°No. But I¡¯m not too keen to learn what¡¯s hiding in the dark in a place like this.¡±


    ¡°Come along,¡± Ghillie said, moving ahead as though he hadn¡¯t heard me.


    I got the feeling it didn¡¯t matter whether or not I wanted to go into the pitch. I was going. ¡°Look,¡± I said, turning to Holden. ¡°This isn¡¯t your problem. Kellen is nothing to you. You could stay here with Desmond and wait¡ª¡±


    He raised a hand, cutting me off mid-sentence. It was probably for the best. I wasn¡¯t good at big heartfelt speeches, and being selfless wasn¡¯t my strongest character trait.


    ¡°If you think I followed you into a different goddamn reality just to sit in the waiting room, you¡¯re sorely mistaken.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s more¡­do you have any comprehension of how much trouble you tend to get yourself in when you go running off on your own?¡±


    My brain told my mouth to retort, but my mouth was smart enough to stay shut.


    ¡°Can we go please?¡± Desmond added. His voice was getting gruffer and less human every time he spoke. We needed to hurry the hell up before it was too late for him.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Ghillie was already waiting for us at the end of the hallway, and in spite of the sudden leaden quality of my feet, I managed to guide my motley crew up to his side. ¡°Any last words of advice before you throw us to the lions?¡±


    ¡°Lions?¡± He cocked his head to the side, his green eyes appraising me thoughtfully. ¡°Certainly not lions. But depending on the mood of His Majesty, I wouldn¡¯t bet against arm-wrestling an ogre.¡±


    I gave him a dumbfounded stare in return and waited for the punch line. There was no haha, gotcha or a just kidding. He merely smiled as though he had a secret and nodded into the abyss. ¡°Good luck to you, my lady, and those who follow you. I hope the Lady Calliope has foretold a long and healthy future for you all.¡±


    Oh, well, didn¡¯t that sound promising?


    I clenched my hands into fists and pretended not to think about his creepy omen and how it might apply to me. I had a socialite to collect and next to no time to do it in. I¡¯d worry about my mortality when I was back in New York and hunting for my psychopath-with-a-death-wish mother.


    Fairies had nothing on the werewolf bitch out for my head.


    I threw my shoulders back and gave Ghillie a terse nod. ¡°I just go right in?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d please.¡±


    I did not please, but I walked into the murky void nonetheless. It didn¡¯t feel like passing through the door of Starbucks into Calliope¡¯s mansion usually did. There was no tug or swirling sensation of being moved from one plane to the next. But there was no air, either. A gasping, hollow void greeted me in the blackness, sucking the breath from my lungs and striking me cold with the realization that if I were to stand still for too long, I would die on my feet. It felt strange to me¡ªas someone who confronted fear and death on a daily basis¡ªthat something as simple as one breath to the next could be the difference between life and death.


    I felt small.


    A hand nudged me forward, and soon I was on the other side, sucking in air like it was going out of style. Holden, who had no need to breathe, followed me out, and was tugging Desmond along behind him with the grace of a parent leading a bratty child through the mall. He looked disgusted in spite of the fact Desmond was behaving very well for a man about to yield to his inner beast.


    The new room we entered was quite unlike the hall we left behind.


    Every wall shone in gold tones, rendered alive by thousands of cream-colored candles lighting the round chamber. The floor looked like it was made from pearl, and the shifting illumination caused our shadows to creep and dance over the pale ground.


    In the center of the room, on a gold throne carved to resemble the twisting branches of a tree, sat the single most beautiful man I¡¯d ever laid eyes on. And that was saying something, taking into account the company I kept.


    His features were delicate, and on another face might have looked too feminine. But with his dark hair curling past his ears and the fierce expressive tilt of his eyebrows, he did not look like a girl in the least. His brown-eyed gaze met my own, and for a long moment all we did was stare at one another, my poor heart rattling with each passing second he did not blink.


    ¡°Calliope sent you,¡± he stated.


    Though his words didn¡¯t demand a response, I dipped into a low curtsy¡ªI couldn¡¯t believe I remembered how to do one¡ªbut did not drop my gaze. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡±


    Behind me I heard the rustle of material and knew Holden and Desmond were following my lead. Thank goodness.


    The man on the throne waved his hand from side to side and let out a disgusted sigh. ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me. I know who you are. You¡¯re royalty in your own right.¡±


    ¡°In a manner of speaking.¡±


    ¡°Queen, yes? Of the wolves.¡± The way he said the last word let me know what his opinion on wolves was, and he wasn¡¯t about to start writing sonnets about how delightful my pack was.


    ¡°Queen of the Eastern Pack,¡± I elaborated. ¡°For now.¡±


    This, of all things, was what made the fairy king smile. ¡°What marvelous insight for one so young.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ To know everything in life is fleeting. Even life itself.¡±


    What was it with the fae loving to give me the heebie-jeebies with their foreboding one-liners? Was I supposed to quake at his feet with a sentence like that? Not bloody likely.


    ¡°Maybe, but I think I¡¯ve still got some time on my hands.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±


    Chapter Twenty-Six

 Page 25

    Calliope should have told me that when a fairy king says we¡¯ll see about the fate of your life, it¡¯s not a good thing. Even without his warning, I was smart enough to know any uncertainty about my future well-being wasn¡¯t something to take lightly. So when the king used those words, I decided it was time to play it cool.


    ¡°Your Maj¡ª¡±


    ¡°Call me Aubrey, please.¡± He smiled in a cool way that I was sure made the fae ladies get wet in their gossamer undies, but it only gave me a worried shiver. ¡°Aubrey Delacourte.¡± The expectant stare following his introduction told me he was waiting for a name from me, although I knew he had to be perfectly aware of who I was since he¡¯d said as much earlier.


    ¡°I¡¯m Secret McQueen.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Of course he did.


    ¡°I¡¯ve come because someone who¡­belongs to me has been brought here against her will.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    Fairies were notorious for kidnapping. Babies sometimes, changelings. But their real bread-and-butter was women. I¡¯d seen true fairy women before, and it had astonished me that the men of the realm felt any need to look outside their own species until Calliope explained the reasoning to me. Fairy women were delicate, and not just in their appearance. Pregnancy was not as simple for them as it was for humans, and the gestation period for a full-blooded fairy baby was a whopping thirty months. Months. Considering how much the babies drained from their mothers in terms of food and energy, it was sadly often the case that the mothers died before babies came to term.


    Human women were a heartier lot, and their gestation was only nine months. To a fairy male looking to spread his seed it was often easier to father a half-breed than it was to wait out the lengthy birth of a full-blooded fairy child.


    But the human women they took to incubate their spawn weren¡¯t always willing. Kellen had been brought over as part of an owed debt, but I had even money it was her youthful uterus the fairy had been after and not her whole person.


    ¡°Aubrey, can I be honest with you?¡±


    ¡°It would be a lovely change of pace for me.¡±


    ¡°The girl who was taken, she doesn¡¯t belong here. She isn¡¯t going to be a warm cavity for one of your fairy lords to put his face-hugging progeny into. She¡¯s coming home with me.¡±


    ¡°Face-hugging progeny?¡± He looked mildly amused.


    ¡°Wrong audience for an Alien reference, I think,¡± Holden whispered from behind me.


    On the plus side, I found my absurd outbursts tended to endear me to people rather than make them want to order an instant death. I was eternally grateful Aubrey was at least a wee bit endeared. In fact, he was regarding me in an entirely new way, his cheek resting on his folded hand as he watched me with careful interest.


    ¡°You¡¯re an unusual woman. Unlike any queen I believe I¡¯ve ever known.¡±


    ¡°Understatement¡­of¡­the¡­year,¡± Desmond wheezed, still holding his stomach. I¡¯d probably wasted my Alien reference too soon, since he looked like his chest was about to burst any second. Worry twisted in my guts when I saw Desmond¡¯s ashy, sweat-streaked face. He was in bad shape.


    My focus was renewed. ¡°Aubrey, I need my friend back.¡±


    The fairy king sat up straight, leaned forward on his knees and laced his fingers together. ¡°My, my. Real honesty. That is a welcome change.¡±


    ¡°Does my refreshing honesty get me any bonus points?¡±


    ¡°It wins you my regard.¡±


    ¡°And what does your regard get me?¡±


    ¡°It gets you a chance.¡±


    ¡°A chance at what?¡±


    ¡°Winning her back.¡±


    Win her. Like she was a poker hand or a door prize. I hadn¡¯t been expecting them to hand her over pretty as you please, but I was taken aback at the notion I¡¯d have to champion my cause to bring her home.


    ¡°Win her how?¡± In a physical challenge I might be okay. A challenge of the wits, I¡¯d stand a sliver of a chance. Fairies were tricksy devils, and you had to think like a crazy person in order to beat them at their own game, but it wasn¡¯t impossible. A test of patience, though, and we¡¯d all be screwed.


    ¡°You and your companions will stay with us a brief time. While you are here I will observe you. Once I am satisfied with what I¡¯ve seen, you and I will come to the terms of Miss Rain¡¯s release.¡±


    ¡°Are you promising me you¡¯ll let her go if you and I can come to an agreement?¡±


    Ah, the careful selection of the word promise. When it came to the fae, there were two words you had to take pains to use only if you absolutely must: thank you and promise. To thank a fairy meant they would hold you in their debt for as long as they chose. A thank you was tantamount to saying I owe you big time, and fairies didn¡¯t take that shit lightly.


    Promises were equally loaded, because a fairy¡¯s word was everything. They never lied. Sometimes they would skirt the truth so expertly it would feel like a lie, but it never was. Words had to be chosen with painstaking care when speaking to a fairy. So I had picked the word promise for good reason.


    Aubrey knew it too because his beautiful face lost the amused mask it had previously shown and was now tightly drawn with displeasure.


    ¡°I said, do you promise¡ª?¡±


    ¡°I heard you.¡±


    We stared at each other while he considered my question. Then he smiled again, and as before, I didn¡¯t like the gesture one bit. Something told me I was going to be played at my own game. ¡°Yes, Miss McQueen. I promise I will release Miss Rain should you and I come to an agreement of terms. Does that make you happy?¡±


    ¡°Right now it does. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be saying the same thing when it comes time to discuss terms, though.¡±


    Aubrey¡¯s smile didn¡¯t flicker for an instant.


    Oh yeah. This was going to hurt me way more than it hurt him.


    Chapter Twenty-Seven


    The rules to coexisting with fairies, as taught to me by Calliope:


    1) Do not say thank you, EVER.


    2) Do not accept gifts. Accepting a gift is acknowledging the fae has given you something, therefore one day they may call upon you to give them something. Nothing comes for free with a fairy, so unless you want them to take your firstborn one day, don¡¯t let them give you anything shiny.


    3) Do not eat anything the fae offer you. As much as this one might suck, same rules apply as in number 2. Food is trickier, though, as it was commonly used as a way to bind humans into the fae realm. Once you ate with them, there was no turning back.


    4) Compliment them as much as possible. Fairies are more sensitive than a Hollywood starlet who has gained weight. They cannot get enough of hearing how beautiful, clever and marvelous they are. The more you compliment them, the more likely they are to do what you want.


    5) Last but not least¡­spend as little time with the fae as possible, especially on their turf. Everything is different within their borders, from the phases of the moon to the laws of physics. Time itself functions differently in a fae reality.


    This last rule was heavy on my mind when a hob¡ªa brownie¡ªguided Holden, Desmond and me to our assigned chambers in the palace. Obviously the shifting-moon-phase issue was getting to Desmond and was acting as both a gift and a curse. A curse because he was clearly in a monumental amount of pain, and a gift because in spite of how close he was to the brink, the weird phases of the moons were keeping him from shifting forms.


    At any given moment though I knew his tenuous hold would break.


    We were on borrowed time, and the man in charge of doling it out was a fairy king who wanted to play with my head. Hopefully that was all he wanted to play with, because my uterus wasn¡¯t going to be any good to him.


    The hob left us in the dark foyer of our room, and I didn¡¯t take any time to investigate the space.


    ¡°Desmond, are you¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t ask,¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°I have to ask. Are you okay?¡±


    He slumped onto the floor as if the effort to hold himself upright had become too much. In truth he¡¯d probably been fighting to stay on his feet this entire time. He wasn¡¯t lying down, but rather propped himself against the wall and kept his arms around his midsection.


    ¡°He looks peachy,¡± Holden observed.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Desmond said, and his voice was so quiet I couldn¡¯t tell if he meant it sarcastically or not.


    I crouched on the floor in front of him, cupping his clammy face in my palms. He was boiling hot and icy cold all at once, a sure sign his body was fighting against the werewolf¡¯s natural urge to escape. Wolves ran hot, so the feverish cold was his human side struggling to stay in charge.


    ¡°You could¡ª¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I chewed on my lip and raked my fingers through his wet hair. ¡°Why are you fighting it so hard? It¡¯s hurting you.¡±


    ¡°I need to be here for you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d still be here for me if you were¡­¡± I let my hand drop away. ¡°You¡¯d still be here for me.¡±


    He shook his head sternly. ¡°Dominick told me what happened in Louisiana. The way you responded to the change. What if me changing gives your wolf permission? What if she doesn¡¯t care how badly you need to stay human? You of all people should know how hard it is to stay in control once the wolf has the power.¡±


    My jaw felt slack. I hadn¡¯t told Desmond about my experience at Callum¡¯s compound. The way my wolf had pushed me out of the driver¡¯s seat and made up her own rules. He was right, I had almost no control when I was in my wolf form. Maybe it was something all new wolves experienced, but I never had before. The way he described it to me, though, was exactly the way it had felt when I¡¯d been running on four legs through the woods.


    So far my wolf had been on her best behavior. But if Desmond was in wolf form, would her attitude stay the same? I couldn¡¯t be sure. I¡¯d already been worried about what would happen during the full moon in Manhattan, but there were no rules here to govern the shift the same way we could in the human world. Desmond might not be a pack king¡ªwhose wolf form could force those in his pack to change into their animal selves¡ªbut he was my soul-bonded mate. Would that impact it somehow?

 Page 26

    I¡¯d be no good to anyone if I was a wolf.


    I cursed the confetti of my genetic makeup for being too messed up and difficult. At the same time I had to be grateful, though. If I¡¯d been all vampire, they wouldn¡¯t have spoken to me. All werewolf and I¡¯d have been made someone¡¯s pet. I¡¯d gotten this far because no one knew what to make of me.


    But Desmond was suffering, and I couldn¡¯t be selfish enough to ask him to keep suffering if I was the only reason for it.


    ¡°You should shift.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m with Secret,¡± Holden said. ¡°You should shift.¡±


    Desmond growled at the vampire, letting his feelings on the interruption be known. I ignored Holden the best I could and went on. ¡°Listen to me, okay?¡±


    It took him a minute to shift his gaze from Holden back to me. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in pain.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been in pain before.¡±


    ¡°Because of me.¡±


    ¡°Secret, this isn¡¯t¡­¡± He winced, holding his ribs like they were being broken from the inside. A whine escaped him he couldn¡¯t hold back, and my guilt overwhelmed me.


    ¡°This is my fault.¡± I countered the argument he hadn¡¯t been able to finish. ¡°If you weren¡¯t with me, you¡¯d be safe at home. If you weren¡¯t with me, you¡¯d be willing to shift. If you weren¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°But I am with you. And that changes everything.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot,¡± Holden muttered, drawing Desmond¡¯s attention back to him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend like you wouldn¡¯t do the same thing. You can act as cold as you want, pretend because your heart doesn¡¯t beat you don¡¯t feel anything, but I¡¯m not blind. None of us are fucking blind. You¡¯re as goddamned in love with her as I am, and acting like a jackass to me doesn¡¯t change that. If you were in my position, you¡¯d do the same thing.¡±


    Holden opened his mouth to protest, but Desmond gave a violent head shake. ¡°No. I¡¯m not in the fucking mood to act coy about this. She shows up smelling like you sometimes. I¡¯m not stupid. You¡¯re not stupid. I see how you look at her, and it¡¯s the same fucking way I look at her. I know a hopeless man when I see one.¡±


    This time Holden didn¡¯t try to argue.


    I sank all the way onto the floor and looked between them, struck mute both out of shock and my brain¡¯s complete inability to form coherent thoughts that might become sensible words.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Holden said after the silence had become thick enough to chew on.


    My pulse tripped. Had Holden just admitted to loving me? And more importantly, had he admitted it to Desmond instead of me?


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he repeated. ¡°I would fight to stay in control if it was me in your place. But I¡¯m not in your position. I¡¯m here, standing, functional. I actually can help her. All you¡¯re doing is making her worry, making her feel guilty, and making things that much worse.¡±


    ¡°Could we maybe stop talking about her like she¡¯s not here?¡± I asked.


    No such luck.


    ¡°She needs me,¡± Desmond replied.


    ¡°No. Right now she needs me. And she doesn¡¯t need to be fretting about the length of the hair on your arms. So do us all a favor and shift already before I find a way to force that bloody beast out of you.¡±


    Desmond¡¯s breaths came short and furious from his nostrils, and for a second I was dead certain he was going to leap across the room and try to tear Holden to pieces with his bare hands. I, for one, was still reeling from the almost-love confession Holden had given seconds before. It¡¯s not often a girl hears a vampire admit to loving her right before threatening violence against her werewolf soul mate.


    For me, though, I probably should have seen something like this coming.


    Finally Desmond looked back at me, and the pain in his eyes made my heart stop.


    ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± he asked.


    Here he was, putting the decision in my hands. What must it feel like to trust someone that much? To willingly lay your life at their feet and say, What you do with it is up to you? I wasn¡¯t sure if that level of selflessness would ever come naturally to me. It was brave of him to ask, and terrifying for me to hear.


    ¡°I can¡¯t decide that¡ª¡±


    ¡°Secret, you don¡¯t get to take the easy way out on this one,¡± he said. ¡°If you say change, I¡¯ll change. If you say don¡¯t, I won¡¯t. But I came here for you, so this decision is yours. What do you want me to do?¡±


    I stared at Holden, but he wouldn¡¯t meet my gaze. This was all on me.


    Turning back to Desmond, I clutched his cold, sweaty palm in my own and squeezed. The pressure was too hard to provide comfort to him, but was meant more for me to hold him, anyway. To hang on to the realness and the humanity of him for a moment before I asked him to do the one thing I knew he didn¡¯t want to do.


    He¡¯d have fought it until the end if I didn¡¯t say the words.


    ¡°I want you to shift.¡±


    Chapter Twenty-Eight


    They kicked me out.


    The one thing they could agree on¡ªaside from their mutual white-knight complexes¡ªwas that it wasn¡¯t a good idea for me to be in the room when Desmond shifted. I wanted to argue, but the logic behind it was compelling. I might not be able to resist my own change if my wolf saw Desmond make his, and it wasn¡¯t worth the risk to test my control. I might have tried it at home, but I couldn¡¯t take the chance here.


    I was ushered into a bedroom connected to the foyer, and they closed the doors on me. Dumping my sword next to a small table, I took off my gun holster and began to pace the floor. It wasn¡¯t as bad as being locked up in a turret, but I certainly felt like a pathetic damsel in distress while I walked uselessly, waiting for it to happen.


    A shiver of energy washed over me, and my wolf perked up, as if being woken from a light sleep. She didn¡¯t fight me, or try to get out, but we both knew the moment Desmond had shifted because something inside me felt it. The same tether that drew me to him and Lucas like an invisible leash gave a tug now to let me know something had happened at the other end.


    From the foyer came a loud, low growl so unpleasant the door rattled slightly. Then there was a bark and a scuffling sound. I moved towards the door but froze in place when I heard a man curse and a lupine yelp. This time I didn¡¯t hesitate, but grabbed the door handle and had begun to jerk it open when Holden crashed into the room and slammed it behind him.


    Blood had soaked through the sleeve of his shirt, and his hair was disheveled.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Holden! What happened out there?¡± I tried to push by him to get at the door, wondering if this was a case of if you think I look bad, you should see the other guy, but Holden blocked me from getting there.


    ¡°I can¡¯t let you go out there.¡±


    I stared at him, taking in the paler-than-usual coloring of his complexion, and in my coldest, most serious voice, asked, ¡°What did you do to him?¡±


    At first he didn¡¯t seem to understand the question. Then, when it dawned on him what the implications of my thinking were, his befuddlement faded into a frown. He raised his bloody arm and held it in front of my face. ¡°What did I do to him?¡± he mocked. ¡°You have got to be kidding me.¡±


    I tried to bypass him again, but he wasn¡¯t in the mood for games anymore. He pushed me away and cracked the door a fraction of an inch. ¡°Why don¡¯t you have a look? See what I did to your precious mutt.¡±


    Ducking under his arm, I angled myself so I could see through the small opening he¡¯d created. The foyer was dark, and nothing appeared to be moving, but as I leaned closer a flash of white teeth came at me. I fell back as Desmond hurled himself at the open space, snapping and growling, spit flying from his mouth. The area around his muzzle was damp with drool and blood.


    Holden forced the door closed once again and stared down to where I¡¯d fallen on my ass. My heart was hammering so loudly Desmond could probably hear it on the other side of the door.


    To add insult to injury, that was twice in less than an hour I¡¯d been knocked flat on my rump by something taking me by surprise. Either I was losing my edge, or things here were way more fucked up than they tended to be in the real world. I was hoping for option B, because I was too young to lose my edge.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him act that way.¡±


    Thinking back to my first encounter with Desmond in his wolf form, I¡¯d ended up in a pretty similar position¡ªknocked on the floor in surprise. But in that case it had been the shock of seeing a giant fucking wolf sitting outside my front door. His actual behavior at the time had been gentle, slow and nonthreatening. Even as a wolf he¡¯d made it clear to me who he was and that he meant me no harm.


    Now he was throwing his whole weight against the door¡ªmaking me hope the fae were adept carpenters¡ªand there was nothing gentle about him at all. I¡¯d never imagined this violent, hateful version of Desmond. I¡¯d seen the man punch a hole right through drywall in a fit of rage, but he hadn¡¯t made me fear for my own safety.


    The entire time I¡¯d known Desmond I would have sworn on my life and everything I held important in the world he would never hurt me. Not in a million years would he lay a hand on me or put my well-being at risk.


    But two seconds ago he¡¯d jumped at me like my blood was the only thing he wanted.


    And it was one of the scariest fucking things I¡¯d experienced in recent memory.


    ¡°It¡¯s not him,¡± Holden said.


    ¡°It is him. It¡¯s not like you can pretend another wolf came in after I stepped out and traded places with him. That¡¯s Desmond.¡± My voice was shaking, making me sound too much like a trembling little girl for my tastes.


    Holden offered me a hand up and I took it, trying to keep some of my dignity intact as I climbed to my feet. My hand didn¡¯t tremble at all when I took his, point for me.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. It is Desmond, physically. But he¡¯s not in control of himself.¡±

 Page 27

    ¡°Obviously.¡±


    Perhaps he heard the hysteria creeping into my voice, because he stepped closer and placed a hand on each of my shoulders, giving me a supportive squeeze. The look in his eyes wasn¡¯t as patient, though, and plainly said, Pull yourself together, woman.


    ¡°Think about what Calliope has told you a thousand times. About why werewolves and other shifters can¡¯t come through her gate. It¡¯s obviously not impossible, since you¡¯ve proven that by bringing Desmond across. But think about what she said the reason was.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Bullshit, you don¡¯t remember.¡± This time when he squeezed, it wasn¡¯t friendly at all, it was downright painful. ¡°Remember what she said.¡±


    I did remember. Of course I remembered. It¡¯s hard to plead ignorance to a rule when you¡¯re the only known exception to it. ¡°Shifters aren¡¯t allowed because time doesn¡¯t function the same way. The moon can be full even when it seems to be the middle of the day.¡±


    ¡°And why is that dangerous?¡±


    ¡°Because a shifter who changes when they aren¡¯t prepared can¡¯t be controlled.¡±


    ¡°Right. They aren¡¯t responsible for their actions,¡± he said, quoting Calliope directly. When she¡¯d said it to me in the past, it hadn¡¯t sounded like a free pass for bad wolf behavior, but if she was right, it might explain why Desmond was acting like a lunatic. He hadn¡¯t wanted to change, but the pull of the moon here was too much for him, especially when we¡¯d been on the verge of our own full moon back home.


    So when he¡¯d changed, whatever governed his self-control must have slipped. Now the wolf was driving, and apparently Desmond¡¯s wolf could be kind of a dick.


    It would get along great with my bitch. This proved we were soul mates after all.


    And perhaps I needed to start appreciating the complexity of the animal living inside me. Being a werewolf wasn¡¯t just the ability to shift from one form to another. It didn¡¯t simply mean having the assets of a predator while continuing to live a normal life. What it meant was each of us¡ªall shapeshifters everywhere¡ªhad to exist like high-functioning multiple-personality-disorder victims. There was a second being¡ªa wild animal¡ªliving inside us, and we spent every single day working to maintain our control over it.


    Tonight, Desmond had lost control.


    And God only knew if he¡¯d get it back again while we were here.


    Another loud thump against the door told me not to be optimistic, but the part of me that knew Desmond inside and out wanted to believe better. I wanted to bet against the house and see him come through on his own. I wanted to fall asleep at dawn and wake up at dusk to a human Desmond.


    I wanted him to not remember any of this.


    Blood seeped from the wound on Holden¡¯s arm, soaking his whole shirtsleeve red. The way the liquid glistened against the material made it look more like oil than a vital bodily fluid. It wasn¡¯t until I thought of it in terms of being a part of Holden that I was struck by what I was seeing. And smelling.


    Once the shock of everything we¡¯d experienced began to slink away, I was left with the invasive coppery fragrance of blood. It didn¡¯t matter that it was vampire blood, or that I¡¯d eaten before I came. The moment the odor reached my nostrils I felt dizzy.


    ¡°I need to sit down,¡± I whispered.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± Holden guided me in the direction of a large bed I¡¯d previously ignored, gently forcing me to sit on the edge. I didn¡¯t resist, and rested my head in my open palms, trying to will the woozy feeling to go away.


    Maybe if I closed my eyes for a while, I¡¯d wake up and this whole thing would be a really weird dream. Kellen would be at home, Desmond would be human, and Lucas would be off merrily fucking himself and staying the hell out of my life.


    Then it struck me. This. All of this. Was Lucas¡¯s fault.


    Sure, in a more literal and logical way it was Kellen¡¯s fault for falling into debt with the fae, but it was way more fun to say it was Lucas¡¯s fault. He¡¯d made it my problem, after all. When I got home¡ªprovided I passed Aubrey¡¯s trial by fire¡ªI was going to make sure the wolf king knew how much I appreciated the errand he¡¯d sent me on.


    For starters, I would take each of his testicles and¡ª


    ¡°You¡¯re smiling¡­but in a really fucked-up way.¡± Holden was staring at me, and when my gaze met his, the look of worry on his face increased exponentially. That couldn¡¯t mean anything good.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Your eyes.¡±


    If a vampire was pointing out something amiss with my eyes, it could only mean one thing. I must have gone into bloodlust mode after smelling Holden¡¯s open wound, so my eyes had likely shifted from brown to solid black. Without a mirror I couldn¡¯t be sure, but given how dizzy the blood had made me, it would be the logical conclusion to draw.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on with me.¡± When I tried to jerk my head away, his hand darted out and caught my chin, turning my face back towards his.


    ¡°Let me see your teeth,¡± he commanded.


    I complied, baring my pearly whites at him to show my fangs were still in check and hadn¡¯t yet popped out of my gums in preparation for the feed. Apparently my vampire half was aware Holden wasn¡¯t food. Dead blood provided no nourishment, which was why vampires didn¡¯t in-feed. They needed human donors because it was the vital essence within human¡ªor any living mammal¡ªthat ignited life within a vampire.


    A light bulb out of its socket wouldn¡¯t light, but connect it to energy and it will fill a room. The same was true of a vampire. Take away the lifeblood and a vampire will wither into dust and nothingness. Connect it to something with a spark and you create life.


    It was basic science twisted into something truly macabre.


    But my fangs weren¡¯t out because Holden had no vitality to give me. His was all borrowed.


    And I wasn¡¯t afraid of him, or feeling physically threatened. So there was only one other reason my eyes would be going black. I didn¡¯t want to think about it, admit to it or acknowledge it. In fact, had we not been locked inside a bedroom because a feral wolf was on the other side of the door, I would have been out of there faster than a peace activist at a gun show.


    ¡°Can you stop touching me?¡± I whispered. My gaze was locked on the liquid pooling at his elbow, and whether or not it was food, in the presence of blood it wouldn¡¯t be long before my fangs were out.


    When he spoke again, his voice had dropped to a lower register and was thicker than it had been a moment earlier. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Holden, please. Something¡¯s wrong.¡± Once I spoke the words, I knew it was true. If my eyes were black and it wasn¡¯t from hunger or rage, it could only be from lust. Those were the three triggers of the vampire eyes¡ªfeed, fight or fuck. And while there had been plenty of times Holden had amped up my lust, many of them recently, now was not an ideal or an appropriate time for my loins to start aching for him.


    I¡¯d gotten lost to carnality more than once at a wildly unhelpful time, but I could admit to myself those had been my decisions, as poorly thought out as they were. Fucking Lucas against a tree in Louisiana? Bad call. Letting Holden kiss me any of the gajillion times he¡¯d done it when I was with Desmond and Lucas? Terrible call. But those mistakes had been mine to make.


    What I was feeling right now wasn¡¯t natural.


    Not even in the, I want you so bad, it¡¯s unnatural context, either. I couldn¡¯t blame hormones or pumping adrenaline, though the adrenaline was certainly present. No, I was getting hot and bothered for Holden, and I had zero control over it. Like someone else was taking the reins, and not my wolf, either. There was no part of me that would¡ªin a time of dire trouble¡ªthink now is a good time to fuck.


    Yet I wanted to do just that.


    ¡°Stop touching me,¡± I said again, this time putting more command into my voice.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    I lifted my hands to push his away, but the moment I had more skin-to-skin contact, my train of thought vanished. Why was it important I move his hands? Didn¡¯t they feel good? I liked it when Holden touched me. I liked the way his lips felt against mine, the gentle caress of his tongue in my mouth eager and adventurous.


    The soul-crushing ecstasy of his bite¡ªsomething I¡¯d only experienced in dreams.


    What would be the harm in letting him touch me now?


    I¡¯d never been a religious person, but something in the back of my mind kept repeating, lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil¡­


    But what fun was life without giving in to temptation every now and then?


    Chapter Twenty-Nine


    The fairy king was fucking with me.


    He¡¯d managed to turn my boyfriend into a slobbering beast then turn me and a two-hundred-year-old vampire into horny teenagers. All in the span of an hour. If this was his way of testing my mettle, I must have been failing hard.


    I¡¯d experienced some weird shit in my life. My memories had been stripped away from me once, taking with them any awareness I had of who Desmond and Lucas were. But the feeling of knowing I should know someone, yet not having the faintest clue why¡­ It was nothing compared to this.


    The violation I felt would have been one thing if the emotions being toyed with were complete fabrications. Had the fae invented a lust between Holden and me, I might have been better able to fight it because I would know it was wrong. In my head, I¡¯d be able to recognize what I was feeling wasn¡¯t real. The emotions and desires weren¡¯t mine.


    What made this so much worse was the feelings were mine.


    My yearning for Holden was being played against me like a skilled poker player would abuse an obvious tell. The king must have known or seen more than he let on, because he had found and exposed all my weaknesses in less time than it took for The Real Housewives of New Jersey to get into a catfight.


    ¡°Holden¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I can¡¯t.¡±


    My fingers were clasped around his wrists, and I could feel the strain of his muscles as he fought to pull his hands away from my face. He wasn¡¯t hurting me, but the effort he was making was evident. I wasn¡¯t the only one here fighting a losing battle against the fairy king¡¯s forces.

 Page 28

    ¡°It¡¯s a spell,¡± I told him, though I wasn¡¯t sure that¡¯s what it was.


    What good was it to know the rules of a dimension when none of them seemed to apply? We hadn¡¯t had anything to eat or drink. We hadn¡¯t thanked anyone or accepted any gifts. Certainly the room couldn¡¯t count as a present since we were being forced to stay under the terms of the king¡¯s agreement with me. I didn¡¯t know if the fae had lawyers, but that couldn¡¯t be a loophole, could it? I doubted Calliope would send us off without saying whatever you do, don¡¯t stay at the castle, if it was a sneaky backdoor way to entrap us.


    But what, then?


    By simply entering into the arrangement with him had I opened myself up to being played? He¡¯d said he wanted to observe me, and I¡¯d agreed. Maybe he hadn¡¯t planned to observe me like I was a creature at the zoo. Maybe he wanted to see how I did in action, like a mouse navigating a maze under the watchful eye of scientists.


    If this was a test, I didn¡¯t know what the goal was. Did he want me to give into my deeply felt urge to make love to Holden, something I¡¯d been fighting against for over a year? Or was I supposed to fight against the spell and reject the sex?


    Weighing the different options was making my already addled brain fry itself worse than ever. I no longer knew if there was a way to logic my way out of this. Applying human logic to the fairy world was like trying to solve a quadratic equation using a Shakespearean soliloquy as your guideline. Iambic pentameter could only take you so far in solving for X.


    ¡°We need to get out of the room,¡± I told him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a spell,¡± I repeated. ¡°We need to get out of the room.¡±


    Holden licked the palm of my hand, and I shuddered, struggling to remember what I was trying to do. ¡°I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s a spell.¡±


    His phrasing nagged at me. ¡°You do care.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Holden.¡± I pushed his face away. ¡°You don¡¯t want to be sloppy seconds, but you can¡¯t wait to jump on me because of a spell? Think.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up and think.¡± I pulled my hands and face out of his reach and got to my feet, putting distance between us. I still wanted to launch myself on him and taste every inch of his skin, both his blood and body. I trembled and took another step away.


    ¡°Come back here.¡±


    ¡°This won¡¯t work,¡± I hollered. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to come up with a different test.¡±


    Holden got to his feet and came close. I countered his advances by stepping back until I was against the wall. He continued to come towards me until I was braced between his arms and his nose grazed my jaw.


    ¡°I remember the first time I kissed you,¡± he said.


    So did I, but I didn¡¯t want to admit it.


    ¡°This won¡¯t work,¡± I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.


    ¡°I think it will work very well.¡± He laid a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. I shivered.


    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re no fun,¡± said the wall behind me a moment before it vanished completely.


    I collapsed on my back with Holden heavy on top of me. Heavy and hard. Rolling him off me, I scrambled to my feet and nearly tripped into a woman so small she made me feel bulky.


    ¡°We were led to believe you¡¯d yield easily to lust,¡± she said.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± My voice bubbled with rage. I¡¯d just fallen through my bedroom wall after nearly being bespelled into screwing a vampire. My patience was wearing thin to say the least.


    ¡°His Majesty¡ª¡±


    ¡°I asked, who are you?¡±


    She frowned at me and shook her head. ¡°I am of no consequence. I was simply sent to collect you should the first test be unsuccessful. I have clothing for you to change into, if you¡¯d please.¡±


    ¡°No, than¡ª¡± I stopped speaking abruptly before I let my politeness lead to my ruin. ¡°No. What we¡¯re wearing will be fine.¡±


    The woman sneered at our wardrobe and Holden¡¯s bloody shirt. ¡°I think you should reconsider.¡±


    ¡°I think there¡¯s nothing you can say or do that will convince me to take clothing¡ªor anything else¡ªfrom you. If you¡¯re going to take us somewhere, you might as well take us as is.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± She tapped the wall behind her, and it opened onto a huge, brightly lit ballroom.


    As soon as we stepped through I understood why she¡¯d suggested we change, but I had no regrets about dismissing her hospitality. The room was filled with over a hundred wide-eyed fae of different kinds¡ªprimarily fairies, though¡ªstaring at us like the circus-sideshow freaks we were.


    Holden, shaken out of his lusty stupor, came to stand beside me as we gawked at our bewildered audience. The room was lit by moving bulbs that resembled giant fireflies casting their glow onto long banquet tables groaning under the weight of huge platters of food. The array of roasted meats, candies and fresh fruit would have been hard to resist for most guests. Even to me, who didn¡¯t need it to live, the proffered goods looked irresistible.


    My stomach rumbled in spite of the fact I wasn¡¯t hungry for food.


    Aubrey emerged through the heart of the crowd, a sea of silk and satin suits and gowns parting to make way for him. ¡°Please help yourselves to anything here.¡±


    ¡°Is Kellen here? If so, I¡¯ll take one of her.¡±


    The king winked. ¡°Do you worry we have her locked away in some ivory tower?¡±


    ¡°Do you have an ivory tower?¡± It wouldn¡¯t have surprised me.


    ¡°No.¡± He swept his hand outward and directed my attention across the ballroom. When my gaze came to a rest, it was on a beautiful couple, and my breath caught.


    Kellen was wearing a gown the color of early twilight¡ªdeep purple blue¡ªand her hair hung in long brown waves down her back. She was smiling up at a handsome blond man who was looking at her like a precious gem. His hand was tucked possessively at the small of her back, and they spun across the floor with more grace than I would have imagined a human girl could dance with.


    After my experience in the bedroom, though, it didn¡¯t matter how pretty the window-dressing was, I wasn¡¯t buying it. Kellen had been here long enough, brought against her will. She had definitely been drinking the Kool-Aid.


    ¡°So you see, your friend is quite happy.¡±


    ¡°I can see my friend is alive. I don¡¯t believe she¡¯ll be happy until she¡¯s back where she belongs.¡±


    The crowd merged back around Kellen and the fairy who¡¯d kidnapped her, leaving me to focuse on the king once again.


    ¡°You don¡¯t take anything at face value, do you?¡±


    ¡°Of course not. Care to explain what that bullshit in our room was?¡± I stayed next to Holden, not wanting to get too close to the fairies. They¡¯d begun to mill about, pretending not to watch us but doing a poor job of hiding it.


    ¡°What happens in my guestrooms is not something I try to make my business. Why¡­? Were there issues?¡±


    The woman who had collected us chose that moment to wander off. ¡°I think you know perfectly well what happened.¡±


    ¡°Not a clue. Of course if I did, you would have been well forewarned that everything you do here would be under scrutiny.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think that meant you would attempt to force things to happen.¡±


    The crowd stopped talking, and everyone stared at me and the king. I had no shame about my outburst, considering the guy had tried to make me do¡­things.


    ¡°Secret, walk with me, will you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you interpreted that as a request, which may have been due to a politeness of my tone. What I meant to say was, Secret, you will walk with me.¡±


    Holden began to argue, but I grudgingly said, ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°Alone,¡± Aubrey added.


    ¡°Naturally.¡±


    The king offered me his arm. After a moment¡¯s hesitation where I wondered if taking it would count as accepting a gift, I placed my hand lightly on his forearm and let him guide me to the center of the dance floor.


    ¡°I think a dance is in order,¡± Aubrey suggested.


    ¡°Would it matter if I didn¡¯t agree?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d look awfully silly with me dragging you around the floor. I think it better if you went along with it.¡±


    I blew my bangs out of my eyes, and when he placed a hand on my waist and another on my shoulder, I fell naturally into a waltz position.


    ¡°You know how to dance,¡± he said with an impressed flourish.


    ¡°I¡¯m a queen, you know.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡±


    The music picked up, drowning out the eerie silence that had filled the room. I let Aubrey take the lead as he swirled me across the floor, but I kept pace with him, never allowing him to show me up.


    ¡°Tell me something,¡± he began. ¡°Why is it you seem to dislike me so?¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to answer that?¡±


    ¡°I never ask a question I don¡¯t want the answer to.¡±


    I laughed coarsely. ¡°I doubt you¡¯d say that if people were always honest with you.¡±


    Aubrey¡¯s grip on my waist tightened, pulling me closer to him. ¡°Why don¡¯t you let me get used to your honesty, and we¡¯ll take it from there?¡±


    ¡°You asked for it,¡± I warned.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°Overlooking what you did to me and Holden in the bedroom just now, I came here with an already negative view of your court.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± He spun me out, then twisted me back into a half dip, cradling my back and dropping himself into a kneel so we were close to the tiled floor. Standing, we resumed the standard waltz steps.


    ¡°One of your people is killing in my territory.¡±


    ¡°There are fae in your world who do not listen to the rules of mine,¡± he replied.


    ¡°No. There is a pure-blood fairy stealing aura energy from teenagers and leaving them dead.¡± I thought using the plural would hold more weight rather than telling him only one boy had died. ¡°So you¡¯ll have to excuse me if I don¡¯t come here with the best opinions of you and your people.¡±

 Page 29

    He stopped, still holding me but no longer dancing. ¡°Are you certain?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t accuse people¡ªor fairies¡ªof murder, unless I¡¯m sure. But people are starting to point fingers. And they¡¯re pointing them at Calliope.¡±


    ¡°Calliope?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the center of some very unwanted attention right now,¡± I explained, laying on the guilt as thick as I could.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. If there¡¯s anything I can do¡­¡±


    Either one of the firefly lights had flown over me, or a metaphorical light bulb had gone off above my head. ¡°There is something you can do.¡± I wasn¡¯t about to endear myself to Aubrey, but at this point I didn¡¯t care. ¡°You control all those in your court, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± he answered cautiously.


    ¡°Then promise me none of them will ever kill in my territory again.¡±


    Aubrey¡¯s hand twitched on my back, and his perfect smile faltered. ¡°A second promise?¡±


    ¡°You did say if there was anything you can do. This is it. And if you really have control over your people, you should be able to keep this promise without trying.¡± Batting my eyelashes innocently, I swayed into the next step of the dance, claiming the lead but making it look like he was still in control.


    ¡°You know how to push the boundaries of my hospitality, Miss McQueen.¡±


    ¡°Oh, was this you being hospitable?¡± I cocked my head to the side and gave a look that said, Let¡¯s not kid ourselves.


    Aubrey squeezed my hand and reclaimed the lead, dancing us back to where we started. Before letting me go he stopped and stared at me a long time, and there was nothing friendly about his expression.


    ¡°I will make your promise, but you should understand something else.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t begun to understand how hospitable I can be.¡±


    Chapter Thirty


    Once Aubrey had melted back into the crowd, Holden and I were stuck in the ballroom with no obvious way to get back to our room. Not that I was in a massive rush to return if it was filled with Aubrey¡¯s sex magic.


    ¡°Care to dance?¡± he asked.


    Seeing no way to leave, and considering I wasn¡¯t currently afraid to touch him, I didn¡¯t think I had a reason to say no. ¡°What the hell?¡± I replied, taking the hand he¡¯d offered.


    He pulled me to the center of the dance floor, the fairy guests parting around us to give us space. Holden clasped a hand on my waist, and though his movements were not as smooth or graceful as Aubrey¡¯s had been, we soon found our rhythm and fell into step.


    ¡°This place gives me the creeps,¡± he admitted.


    All around us gilded fairies were gawking like we were the strangest things they¡¯d ever seen. Maybe we were, but it was hard to believe that in a world where ogres were a real thing.


    ¡°It¡¯s certainly unlike anything we¡¯ve ever seen before.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s saying something.¡± He smiled lightly and spun me, then pulled me close so we were cheek to cheek and his lips were against my ear and mine were at his.


    ¡°Are we going to make it out of here?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We¡¯ve gotten out of worse.¡± His fingers tangled in my hair, and I felt a thrill of heat in my veins that had nothing to do with a spell. ¡°We always manage when we¡¯re together.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for dragging you into this.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly kick and scream, Secret. I¡¯d follow you anywhere.¡± Holden pulled back and met my gaze. His eyes were the brown of fresh dirt after a summer rain and made me think of wildness and the freedom of the woods.


    ¡°About what happened¡­¡±


    Holden shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t need to talk about that right now.¡±


    ¡°We have to go back there eventually.¡±


    He traced his fingers down my cheek, and my pulse tripped. ¡°When we go back to the room, it will be you and me. There won¡¯t be a spell. Not this time. Magic can¡¯t trick us if we¡¯re honest with ourselves.¡± Stooping close to my neck, he whispered in my ear, ¡°And I think we both know that magic would only be pushing us to do something we already want to do anyway.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°You think you¡¯re stronger than it?¡±


    ¡°I think that spell is long gone.¡±


    We moved across the floor, and for a brief while I forgot that we were the weird ones here, in jeans instead of formal wear. For a small window of time I might as well have been Cinderella, because being in Holden¡¯s arms made all the worry, rage and uncertainty melt away. I let myself forget why we were here and rested my cheek against his, breathing in his cool familiar scent.


    This was a place I knew well, the bubble of safety inside Holden¡¯s arms. How many times had we been on the brink of certain disaster, only to come away unscathed? How many times had his touch grounded me, reminding me everything was all right?


    And how many times had I rebuffed him, in spite of everything I felt? I let my mind wander, closing my eyes and playing with the hair curling at the nape of his neck. It was soft and slid smoothly between my fingers.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid,¡± I whispered.


    He laid a gentle kiss on me cheek, not pushing further.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get through this,¡± he promised. ¡°You know you¡¯re only scared because you don¡¯t want to lose control.¡±


    ¡°No one wants to lose control.¡± We stopped dancing, and I pulled back slightly. ¡°Do you want to lose control?¡±


    Holden stared at me for a moment. ¡°With you, Secret? I want to lose everything.¡±


    The nameless fae woman returned Holden and me to our room, and the wall shut seamlessly behind us. After showing off our fancy footwork and making the fairy king agree to a second promise in one night, we were persona non grata for the remainder of the festivities.


    Holden came up behind me, and we both stared at the bed. ¡°How do you feel?¡± His mouth was right next to my ear. I twisted so we were face-to-face and found myself unable to meet his eyes.


    ¡°Very bizarre.¡±


    ¡°But do you feel the influence anymore?¡±


    I expected to detect the lingering traces of Aubrey¡¯s spell, something that would make me feel unnaturally attracted to Holden. I still felt the attraction, but this time it wasn¡¯t strange or unwelcome. It was just the old desire that had been between us for years. In some ways it made me more uneasy than if the attraction had been manufactured.


    ¡°I feel¡­fine,¡± I said.


    He brushed a strand of hair off my cheek and cupped my chin, angling my face upwards so I was looking at him.


    ¡°Just fine?¡±


    My pulse tripped slightly, and I let myself lean into his touch, my hand covering his on my face. ¡°As fine as I can given the environment.¡±


    ¡°Still beats being thrown in a pit,¡± he reminded me, alluding to our experience of being trapped by swamp werewolves.


    ¡°Most things beat that.¡±


    Holden dropped his hand from my face, then kissed my forehead. This time his lips lingered longer than they had during the dance, and when he pulled away, we stared at each other for a long, breathless moment.


    ¡°Sit down,¡± he told me, nodding towards the bed. His tone was suddenly very serious.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He gave me an arch look, and I knew arguing would be pointless. Besides, it was just a bed. Sitting on a bed didn¡¯t mean I was automatically agreeing to anything. He only wanted to talk.


    Who was I kidding?


    ¡°How¡¯s your arm?¡± I asked, pointing to the bloodied shirtsleeve covering the place where Desmond had bitten him. It was an obvious attempt to distract him, though I wasn¡¯t sure why I was trying to.


    ¡°It¡¯s healed.¡±


    ¡°Let me look.¡±


    Hesitantly I sat on the bed, and he stood in front of me. I lifted his arm with my hands cupped under his elbow, rolling up his soiled shirt. The sticky residue of old blood made my fingers gluey, making them stick to the cotton fabric as I turned up the material. When the crook of his arm was mere inches from my lips, I shifted my gaze from the still-damp blood and back up to his eyes. His pupils had widened, turning his irises a dark, fierce black. The hunger that twisted his features had nothing to do with a need for feeding. I recognized the look, and it was pure sex.


    I stared at Holden, his bloody arm right under my mouth, and I voiced a question both my rational and monstrous selves wanted the answer to. ¡°What are we doing?¡±


    ¡°Whatever we want. It¡¯s just you and me right now. Whatever we do is up to us.¡±


    My internal debate was between the consequences of our actions and rewards. Which was greater? I had wanted to sleep with Holden for so long I¡¯d lost track, and our chemistry was undeniable. First I¡¯d been afraid I only wanted to sleep with him because of Aubrey¡¯s spell, but now all I felt was him and the unique hot feeling that made me want to rip his clothes off. That wasn¡¯t magic. That was just Holden.


    Why was I thinking so much about this?


    Having lived a life of consequences, both good and bad, I decided it was time to do what I wanted. Damn what the fairy king thought he knew about me, damn the guilt of the human world and the people who said I shouldn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t owe anyone anything.


    But maybe I owed Holden and me this night.


    Chapter Thirty-One


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Holden asked as I stood, and my hands went to the buttons on his shirt. ¡°I mean really really sure?¡± His eyes were dark, and I knew there was a fine line of self-restraint holding him back. One nudge was all it would take, and I wanted to give him that nudge.


    I thought about it, though, as much as I was able to think in our current situation.


    ¡°I want to do this,¡± I replied, unbuttoning his shirt fully and pushing it off his shoulders.


    He stared at me long and hard, and I met his gaze steadily, without batting an eyelash. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to stop once we start,¡± he said.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Without waiting for him to make a move on my own clothing, I pulled my sweater off and threw it next to his shirt on the bed.

 Page 30

    For a man who had already seen me topless, the look on his face when he saw me in my bra was more appreciative than I¡¯d expected. He touched each of my bare shoulders with his large, smooth hands, his skin soft and almost cold, but not quite. I shivered, but it was more from excitement than the unexpected coolness of his touch.


    He caught the belt loops of my pants with lightning-fast fingers and tugged me towards him so I was standing and my stomach was flush with his. My skin felt surprisingly warm against his. I thought he might say something when his lips parted slightly, and opened my mouth to protest, but he took that opportunity to kiss me.


    Releasing my belt loops, he lifted his hands to cup my face with such gentleness I almost swooned. He held me like I was precious and breakable, but he kissed me like I might destroy him.


    His kiss was tentative at first, testing me for hesitation, like he thought at any second I would pull away and change my mind. He was probably waiting for me to do what I did every time he kissed me. I always told him to stop. Told him I couldn¡¯t do what he wanted to do. But I¡¯d been denying myself then because my decisions had been based on what I thought was right.


    Now there was no right. There was no wrong. Just want and need and all of it was now.


    I swept my tongue across his, and his fingers twitched against my cheek. He let out a small noise, and I wasn¡¯t quite sure if he was protesting my invasion or inviting more. I started to pull away from the kiss, but he buried his fingers in my hair and kept me in place. The next time he kissed me I felt the brush of his fangs on my swollen lower lip, and another shiver careened through me.


    This kiss had none of the gentleness of its predecessor. His mouth was hard and demanding, his tongue coaxing my own with rough, tangling strokes I could feel all the way down to my toes. My knees went wobbly, and I tried to guide us back to the bed, remembering it had been right behind me only a moment ago. I went to sit and missed the mattress completely.


    So involved were we in the kiss it barely registered that we had collapsed onto the floor, the wonderful, comfortable weight of him on top of me.


    I had brief flashes of memory, the times in the past I¡¯d felt his body from this position. The last clear one I could recall was when he¡¯d been accused of betraying the council, we¡¯d fought and he¡¯d knocked me flat on my bed. I had a chance to wonder at myself over all the times I could have had him, but didn¡¯t. Recalling the night in the Louisiana bayou we¡¯d almost died, I thought about the regrets I would have had if I¡¯d never let myself experience him the way he¡¯d made me promise we could.


    One night was all he asked for.


    He was going to get his night.


    After we¡¯d fallen, he¡¯d released my hair and set about exploring the exposed parts of my body, the only places available to him until he let me up to divest us both of our pants.


    ¡°I remember you like this,¡± he whispered, tilting his head so he could gaze down at me, watch his own hands cup my breasts through the satiny material of my bra. He looked lost and wild, and seeing him admire my body amped up my excitement.


    ¡°You¡¯ve never seen me like this,¡± I corrected.


    ¡°I have.¡± He took one of my hands and held it to the side of his face, our mated fingers resting at his temple. ¡°But all in here.¡± He touched my forehead. ¡°And here.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not dreaming now.¡±


    He kissed me, deep and slow. If I wasn¡¯t already on the floor, that kiss would have toppled me there. ¡°Aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the biggest difference between your dreams and when you¡¯ve really kissed me?¡±


    Holden brushed a stray curl off my forehead and gave me a sad smile. ¡°In my dreams, you never tell me to stop.¡±


    Running my hands over his bare back, trailing my fingers down the dip of his spine right before it rose up into his ass, I returned his smile, but there was no sadness in mine. ¡°Then maybe you are dreaming. But I won¡¯t be the one to wake you up.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He moved off me, placing one knee next to each of my hips and letting his gaze linger on me briefly as he set about whatever he was planning to do. He unbuttoned my jeans and lowered the zipper before I stopped his hand.


    ¡°Yours first.¡±


    ¡°Bossy.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    First he undid his belt, looping his fingers under the brown leather and unhooking the long metal tooth from its notch. With painstaking slowness he pulled the belt free from his pants, and the sound of the leather against cotton made my pulse kick up a beat. The belt dropped beside me with a jangle, and I flirted with the notion of suggesting he keep it around to tie me up with, but cast the idea quickly aside. If tonight was all we got, I wanted to touch him. A real memory of the way his body felt would be better than a million dreams.


    His pants came next, and it took all my restraint to not yank them off. He got to his feet and pulled the trousers free of his legs, tossing them away before straddling me again. The strain of his cock against the thin material of his briefs¡ªhow European of him¡ªwas all I could pay attention to. I wondered how accurately my dreams had represented that part of him.


    My distractedness had not escaped him. ¡°Your turn,¡± he said, shifting his weight off me so he was outside my reach.


    Since my pants were already undone, I arched my back to lift my butt off the floor and pushed the denim over my hips, wondering why it was I always chose such damned tight pants. Sure they made my ass look great, but they functioned like a booty-enhancing chastity belt. Tight pants were fashion¡¯s way of saying, Look but don¡¯t touch. No, seriously, you can¡¯t touch because I¡¯ll never be able to take these off.


    Since I was trying to maintain the appearance of being sexy, I was grateful to be on the floor because it made peeling the denim off much easier. Once I¡¯d kicked my legs free, I was down to my violet-colored bra and a mismatched pair of yellow polka-dot panties. They weren¡¯t even the same material. I obviously hadn¡¯t dressed for this trip with sex in mind, but I was regretting my choices now.


    Holden smirked and ran his index finger under the elastic waistband of my underwear. ¡°Cute.¡±


    Just what every girl longs to hear when she¡¯s mostly naked in front of a man who should exist only in marble-statue form. Cute.


    He continued to play with the elastic, first along my waist, then switching to where the underwear met my inner thigh. His finger followed the trail from my hipbone along my thigh and stopped before making contact where I most desperately wanted him to. Instead, he cupped my pussy, his index finger stroking at me through the wet cotton. His gaze locked on me intently, and he nodded at my chest.


    ¡°Take it off.¡±


    It was difficult for me to focus on removing my bra with him toying with me. Each new brush of his fingers, even through the cotton, was torturous. I ground my hips upwards to meet his hand, wanting more than what he could give me with my underwear in the way.


    The bra was gone, and so my part of the bargain was fulfilled. It was my turn to make demands. ¡°Touch me.¡±


    ¡°I am touching you.¡± The smirk on his lips was ruthless.


    ¡°More.¡±


    He hooked a finger around the side of my underwear and sank it deep inside me, feeling me from within. I gasped.


    ¡°Touch you like that?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He withdrew his finger and pulled my underwear off. ¡°Then I won¡¯t need those.¡±


    I expected his finger to resume its previous endeavors, but instead he moved lower down my body and nudged my thighs apart, settling himself between them. If his previous smile had been ruthless, this grin was downright cruel.


    The first lap of his tongue took me by surprise. It wasn¡¯t as though I didn¡¯t know what he was planning, the way he¡¯d wedged himself in front of my pussy made it pretty evident, but I still wasn¡¯t expecting the first lick. His tongue was cool, the way it had been in my mouth, and I groaned at the surprising way it felt against my own hot center.


    ¡°Holden¡­¡±


    Further words slipped right out of my brain when he started flicking his tongue over my clit. The speed and precision of his attentions made all sensible language vanish, and soon I could only make short gasping pleas. Even if I wanted to give him direction¡ªwhich seemed pointless given his apparent mastery over me¡ªI wouldn¡¯t have been able to say a word as simple as faster right then. Two syllables were two too many.


    No human tongue could have managed the pace he was keeping, and my legs began to twitch, shudders rocking my body as he pushed me to the edge of orgasm faster than I¡¯d ever been brought there in my life. He slid two fingers inside me and pumped them in and out a fraction slower than his tongue was moving.


    I locked my legs around his back, digging my heels into his shoulders, and shrieked as the orgasm swelled and spilled over. My inner walls clutched at his fingers as I violently shuddered in the aftershock, and my limbs came undone and I lay limply on the floor.


    ¡°Holy shit.¡±


    He placed a kiss on my belly and licked the sensitive skin below my navel, making me whimper in protest.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go soft on me now.¡±


    ¡°Uhn,¡± I replied.


    He took my newly liquefied hand and held it against his rock-solid erection. Wetness repooled between my legs when I felt how ready he was. The pun of his softness statement hit me, and I chuckled lightly.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Apparently laughing at a man when his cock is in your hand is a bad idea.


    ¡°No risk of you going soft,¡± I said quickly, so he knew I wasn¡¯t laughing at him. Something told me having his hard length inside me would be no laughing matter, and I was desperate with the need to be proven right.


    ¡°Do you want to move?¡± He nodded to the bed.


    ¡°I want you inside me.¡±


    ¡°But do¡ª¡±


    ¡°Now.¡± I gently squeezed him through his briefs, stroking his shaft and cupping his balls, tugging them towards me. ¡°Please.¡±


    The bed was a foot away, but if it meant he was in me even a second later than he could be on the floor, the bed could fuck itself. Comfort was my last priority in that moment.

 Page 31

    He pushed his underwear down, freeing his erection, and for the first time I got to see what I¡¯d been dreaming about for so long. He wasn¡¯t as thick as Desmond, but his cock was long and perfectly proportioned. The skin was pale, and when I wrapped my fingers around it, I marveled at how smooth it was, like polished marble.


    I gave him a few firm strokes, wanting to feel the texture of him in my hand before I let him inside me. I¡¯d have liked to wrap my lips around his head and see how it felt in my mouth, but I was past foreplay now. I needed him.


    He groaned as I pumped his shaft, forgetting myself in the sensation. ¡°You need to let go if you want me inside,¡± he teased, putting his hand over mine and picking up my rhythm so we both stroked in unison. His eyes were closed.


    Moving his hand, he guided the head of his cock between my folds, and I jerked. The coolness of his tongue should have prepared me for his dick, but I was still shocked by the way it felt. Given how hot I was I expected to see steam coming off me as he stroked his head up and down against my wetness.


    My head dropped back to the carpet, and I took my hand away so nothing was keeping him from driving home.


    ¡°You okay?¡± he whispered, responding to my shocked reaction.


    ¡°I will be.¡± I lifted my hips, pushing his head an inch inside. Biting my lip, I hooked my feet around his legs, under his ass, and urged him closer.


    He took the hint, bracing his hands next to my shoulders. With one hard thrust he was in me, the full cool length of him buried completely. I gasped and held him there, my fingernails clutching at his shoulders. The cold and hot of our bodies connected made me feel like we were some kind of dangerous chemistry experiment waiting to explode.


    I drew my hips back then ground them upwards again, resheathing him. Our bodies created the skin-on-skin sounds that drove me totally wild. ¡°Fuck me,¡± I demanded.


    He pulled out almost all the way, leaving me empty and aching for him before he thrust back in. He repeated this movement over and over¡ªnearly withdrawing completely then pumping deep¡ªuntil my hips could no longer meet his frenzied rhythm.


    ¡°You¡¯re amazing,¡± he said, opening his eyes and looking right at me. His vigorous tempo never slowed. The friction and temperature of our coupling was building me back towards another peak, and the tension of his shoulders and neck told me he was on the verge of his own orgasm.


    ¡°I want you to come,¡± I told him.


    ¡°Let me bite you.¡±


    I nodded, not even pausing to consider the request, just tilting my head to the side to expose my neck for him. It was how things ended in every dream I¡¯d had. Somehow it seemed like the most natural way for it to happen in real life.


    His mouth was hot against my skin. The previously violent thrusting slowed to an almost human pace as he rocked in and out of me, reducing me to barely comprehensible vowel sounds and oaths to God.


    Teeth grazed my skin, hesitant until I insisted, ¡°Do it.¡±


    He bit me, and my whole body felt like it had been blown apart and turned into atomic dust. First there was sharp pain, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure so intense I lost count of the orgasms I was having. They all swelled together into a feeling I couldn¡¯t label or compare to anything. The French call orgasms la petite morte, the ¡°little death¡±. If a normal orgasm was a little death, this was like being burned alive at the stake.


    I must have been screaming, but the throb of my pulse was so loud in my ears I couldn¡¯t hear myself. My toes curled, and I knew I was cutting his back with my nails, but I couldn¡¯t stop myself from clawing at him. I had no control over anything except riding out the feeling.


    When he pulled away and licked my blood from his lips, he looked so content and happy I wasn¡¯t sure if I could think of any other time I¡¯d seen him like that before.


    ¡°Eaierrgagbtghthi,¡± was my attempt at a compliment.


    He grinned at me, laying a gentle kiss on my lips, but even the smallest touch made me shudder. ¡°You can say that again.¡±


    Chapter Thirty-Two


    Calliope sat next to me on the bed, propped up against a pillow with her shapely half-goddess legs stretched out in front of her.


    ¡°You¡¯ve certainly made a fine mess of things, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    I blinked away the dregs of my sleepiness and stared up at her. I was relatively sure I had to be dreaming, especially considering the fact Calliope never left her mansion. She didn¡¯t venture into either the human or fae realities, choosing instead to be the master of the space in between. I doubted she¡¯d change her position just to come chide me.


    ¡°I¡¯m usually making a mess of things, aren¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to actively strive to make things worse,¡± she scolded.


    I pulled the covers over my head, trying to block out her judgment. ¡°You¡¯re assuming I somehow failed a test I didn¡¯t know the aim of.¡±


    ¡°Do you think fucking a vampire was the right thing to do?¡± Calliope swearing was a rarity. Off the top of my head I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d heard her stoop to using a curse word when she could be calm and rational instead. I must have really screwed the pooch on this one.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep with Holden because of Aubrey¡¯s magic. I slept with him because I wanted to.¡± I peeked out from under the covers to see how she¡¯d react.


    Calliope crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. Even grumpy she was the most beautiful woman in this world or any other. Now that I was looking right at her, the resemblance between her and Aubrey was apparent. They had the same dark features and beauty that almost hurt to look at.


    ¡°I still think Aubrey had a hand in this.¡±


    ¡°I think maybe you¡¯re being a cranky biotch because you don¡¯t like that I screwed around with Holden.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t the right thing to do.¡±


    ¡°Are you saying that as an oracle, because you have a reason to know it wasn¡¯t right, or are you saying it as a female whose heart got punted around like a soccer ball by a vampire?¡±


    Calliope was quiet.


    ¡°I think she¡¯s mad,¡± piped in a voice on the opposite side of me, nearly giving me a heart attack.


    Brigit was curled up next to me, her head balanced on her hand, watching the back and forth between the Oracle and me like it was a tennis match. She also solidified my theory this must be a dream.


    ¡°What the hell, Bri?¡±


    ¡°Oh, ha, yeah¡­¡± She chuckled and shrugged one shoulder, looking like she¡¯d just been busted for something but also projecting absolute innocence. ¡°She can¡¯t get into your head on her own.¡± Brigit tapped my temple. ¡°But since you and I are bonded, she can get to you through me.¡± She smiled again, sheepishly. ¡°Are you mad?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not mad.¡± Though I did sigh.


    It was a clever way for Calliope to get in. In that sense, this wasn¡¯t a dream per se, more of an intrusion into my head on the subconscious level. I was asleep, but they weren¡¯t a manifestation of my own mind. They were speaking for themselves.


    Similar to the way Holden used to sneak in.


    ¡°Okay, good,¡± Brigit said, with evident relief. ¡°I told her I didn¡¯t think it was a good idea, but she sort of insisted, and¡­well¡­she¡¯s kinda scary.¡± My former ward looked across me to Calliope, who stared back like she didn¡¯t know what to make of the girl. I often felt the same way. Brigit was often so earnest it felt like an act. But it was just Brigit.


    ¡°She is kinda scary,¡± I agreed.


    Calliope shook her head. ¡°This is absurd.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one who decided to use her,¡± I cautioned.


    ¡°Well, you took my only other option with you. And then had sex with him.¡±


    ¡°Cal¡­¡±


    ¡°Let me guess. Something came over you. You lost all sense of right and wrong. The only thing that mattered was being with him, and by God, come hell or high water you were going to do it. Am I close?¡±


    I swallowed the pit forming in my throat. ¡°At first, yes. But when we actually did the deed, it had nothing to do with Aubrey.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what you think, but Aubrey has a gift. My gift is seeing the future, his is exploiting desire. Not just sexual desire, but whatever it is he can see as being the greatest weakness in someone¡¯s armor. He¡¯ll do whatever he can to make them yield to it. If it¡¯s a lust for power, he¡¯ll use that. A need to be loved, he¡¯ll tap into it until he can use a person like a puppet. With you it was your stupid need to be with that vampire. You two have been dancing around the damned topic for over a week, and it must have been at the forefront of your mind. So he put you both in a situation to see if you would resist or yield.¡±


    ¡°And you think I caved like a Chilean mine.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But I wanted to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Regardless of whether or not the spell made you do the act, you showed Aubrey that Holden mattered to you.¡±


    ¡°Anyone with eyes should know Holden matters to me.¡±


    She sighed, uncrossed her arms and gave me a sad look. ¡°Do you know why he does it?¡±


    ¡°To be a prick?¡± I suggested.


    ¡°To prove he knows how to best you.¡±


    I sat up and wished my subconscious had conjured me some clothes. As it was I had to keep the blanket pinned to my chest unless I wanted to give the ladies an up-close-and-personal introduction to my girls.


    ¡°You say he tested my control over my desire, and you seem to think I failed. So what? I don¡¯t think I failed anything.¡±


    ¡°Now he thinks he can use that knowledge to control you.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s his own damn mistake, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°You think he¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you guys are talking about. Who did you have sex with?¡± Brigit asked.


    ¡°The fairy king thinks he can manipulate me because I had sex with Holden.¡±


    ¡°The fairy king did manipulate you. That¡¯s why you had sex with Holden,¡± Calliope corrected.

 Page 32

    ¡°You had sex with Holden?¡± Brigit squealed. ¡°Gosh he¡¯s pretty. But such a grumpuss.¡± She mocked Holden¡¯s signature scowl, and I had to hold back a chuckle. I didn¡¯t think Calliope would appreciate me laughing right then. She didn¡¯t tend to have the best sense of humor when it came to things she considered to be of grave importance.


    Come to think of it, the Oracle didn¡¯t have a sense of humor about most things. I guess that was the price one paid for being able to see into the future.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you two are finding this so humorous,¡± Calliope said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even laugh.¡±


    ¡°Secret, this is important.¡±


    ¡°I know this is a serious situation. Believe me, I¡¯m well aware.¡±


    ¡°Are you? Because if you really were, I don¡¯t see how you¡¯d be taking a break to let a vampire stick his dick in you when you should be saving your friend.¡±


    The words hit me more sharply than a slap in the face. When I didn¡¯t reply to her verbal assault, Calliope got off the bed and started pacing the floor.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll be able to help her now,¡± Calliope said.


    ¡°If your brother thinks he¡¯s tapped into some great secret by exposing my less-than-stellar judgment when it comes to having sex with the wrong men, then he¡¯s sorely mistaken. I was getting into and out of shitloads of trouble before I started having sex with werewolves and vampires.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t the point.¡±


    ¡°It is the point, though, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯re saying Aubrey¡¯s power lies in discovering and exploiting the desires of those he encounters and turning those desires against them, right?¡±


    ¡°Which he did.¡±


    ¡°No. Cal, I went to Holden¡¯s apartment less than a week ago to have sex with him, and even though it didn¡¯t happen, it could have. There was nothing there, no supernatural force motivating me to do it. And maybe I shouldn¡¯t have had sex with him, and maybe I let my vagina do all the thinking yet again, but Aubrey can¡¯t use this against me.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so sure.¡±


    ¡°If he tries to claim he¡¯s exposed my greatest weakness by giving me an excuse to have sex, that¡¯s like saying you¡¯ve exposed a coffee lover¡¯s greatest weakness by leading them into a Starbucks. It¡¯s bullshit. With or without Aubrey¡¯s sinister machinations, Holden and I would have eventually had sex. Sure, in retrospect I would have preferred we¡¯d done it in a different time and place, when my other boyfriend wasn¡¯t right outside the door¡­¡± a pang of guilt stabbed me in the guts, ¡°¡­but it is what it is. And if Aubrey thinks that¡¯s going to give him power over me, then¡ª¡±


    I stopped talking because my mouth had been moving faster than my brain, and we got to the conclusion at the same time. If Aubrey thought he was in the power seat because of this, he was about to find out he didn¡¯t know me as well as he thought he did.


    ¡°If he thinks it gives him power, then what?¡± Calliope asked, apparently interested in the look I must have on my face from the moment of epiphany.


    ¡°Then maybe it gives me the upper hand.¡±


    ¡°Ohhhh,¡± Brigit said. ¡°The sounds good. Doesn¡¯t that sound good?¡± The latter question was directed at Calliope.


    ¡°It sounds like two foolish girls who have no idea how much trouble the fae can be.¡±


    But she didn¡¯t argue, and she didn¡¯t shoot the idea down immediately.


    ¡°Admit it,¡± I pressed on. ¡°If he thinks he¡¯s already found my weakness, he¡¯ll stop looking for another one. Once you find the fatal flaw in a Shakespearean tragic hero, you don¡¯t go on hoping he¡¯ll have more. Aubrey thinks he¡¯s figured me out.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so sure he hasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a fatal flaw?¡± Brigit asked.


    ¡°In Shakespeare it¡¯s the fault in a character that leads to their inevitable downfall,¡± Calliope said before I could answer. ¡°Pride, jealousy¡­the most basic human emotions, all amplified until they take over the character¡¯s whole life.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s Secret¡¯s fatal flaw?¡± She playfully jabbed me with her elbow. ¡°Lust?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Calliope looked down at me, and her face was frighteningly serious. ¡°Secret¡¯s fatal flaw is that the only thing keeping her good is her desire to be human.¡±


    I stared at her, my pulse hammering while I digested the words.


    ¡°And last night¡­she let her humanity slip.¡±


    Chapter Thirty-Three


    I woke up absolutely sure I was going to vomit.


    As a Tribunal leader, there had to be a way I could start keeping people out of my head. They were my underlings, weren¡¯t they? Since when did underlings get to call the shots? The problem was, the way Holden had explained the connections to me, the more powerful the vampire, the stronger the connection. So, unfortunately, my being a Tribunal leader actually made the mental bonds I shared with Holden and Brigit stronger.


    I¡¯d have to ask Sig if there was a way to shut the mind-jacking down. Having weird dreams about my loved ones soaked in blood was bad enough. I didn¡¯t need to have conversations with my condescending fairy godmother about my sex life.


    As the whirlpool in my tummy began to settle and I was convinced I wouldn¡¯t throw up immediately upon rising, I sat up. Still topless in real life. Holden was lying next to me in the bed¡ªthough how we¡¯d come to be in the bed I couldn¡¯t remember¡ªand he watched me the way Brigit had in my dream.


    ¡°Do you always wake up like that?¡±


    I tugged the blanket up to cover my boobs. ¡°I usually fall asleep less naked.¡±


    ¡°No. I meant do you always wake up like you¡¯re coming out of a nightmare?¡±


    ¡°Oh. That.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that. I¡¯ve seen agitated cephalopod thrash around less than you did waking up.¡±


    ¡°A what now?¡±


    ¡°An angry octopus.¡±


    ¡°Did you just compare me to a fish?¡±


    ¡°Technically, a moll¡ª¡±


    ¡°No technically, professor.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    I pulled the blanket closer to me, stealing it away from him entirely. This had the unfortunate¡ªor very fortunate, depending on how you looked at it¡ªside effect of exposing his fully naked body to me. Even though he wasn¡¯t in a state of arousal, his body was still incredible. I had to avert my eyes before I lost track of what was going on.


    ¡°Why is it you never sound sorry when you apologize to me?¡±


    ¡°Probably because I¡¯m rarely actually sorry.¡±


    My reply was cut short by a snarling outside the door and a confused human-sounding voice. Someone had tried to enter the foyer, and wolf-Desmond was apparently in the process of trying to dismember them.


    I jumped off the bed and pulled my pants on without bothering to find my underwear. Likewise I tugged my shirt back on braless. I had a pretty small chest, so I wouldn¡¯t look too floppy if I let the girls free for a minute or two. Once I¡¯d saved some poor fae messenger¡¯s life, then I could worry about undergarments.


    I¡¯d put my gun and sword on a small table next to the door when Desmond and Holden had decided to make me wait in here, and I was grateful now to have them within reach. Had they been out in the foyer, I¡¯d have had to vault over an angry werewolf to get at my gun, and frankly that didn¡¯t sound like too much fun first thing after waking up.


    I didn¡¯t want to shoot Desmond, but I knew how to wound without killing, and if it came down to it, I¡¯d do what I needed. At least that¡¯s what I told myself as I clicked off the safety and chambered a round. The gun might have been ready to shoot, but I wasn¡¯t so sure I was. I opened the door and slipped into the foyer noiselessly, not announcing my presence until the door shut with a click behind me.


    Desmond had backed a thin, tall man into a corner. The fae male was quivering like a leaf, and his fear would only egg the angry werewolf on.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting him riled up,¡± I said. ¡°Try to calm down.¡±


    Desmond¡¯s head whipped around, his typically violet-gray eyes more lupine than human now. I didn¡¯t know how much of him was in there, or if any of the man remained. Once he shifted back he¡¯d be himself again, but I couldn¡¯t count on the inherent goodness of Desmond¡¯s human half to help me out here. I had to treat him like a monster, not my boyfriend.


    ¡°E-e-easy for you to say,¡± the fae replied.


    Wolf-Desmond was staring at my gun, which I had pointed at his shoulder. With a real monster I¡¯d have pointed it at his head, but if he made a sudden movement to attack me or the man, and my immediate reaction was to shoot, I didn¡¯t want to kill him just because I¡¯d been trained to.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked, speaking to the fae but not taking my attention off Desmond. The wolf gave a low, angry growl. I didn¡¯t need my internal wolf to translate for me. The meaning was clear. This food is mine, back the fuck off. His ears were folded tight against his head, and he was showing a lot of fang. Considering how much bigger in human form Desmond was than me¡ªstanding almost a foot over me¡ªhis wolf must have outweighed me by a hundred pounds.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I repeated.


    ¡°Zuzu,¡± he managed to spit out. ¡°P-pl-please help me.¡±


    I was skirting the edge of the room now, trying to get closer without Desmond realizing what I was doing. I was also trying to figure out how anyone, in any reality, could name their kid Zuzu.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to help you, Zuzu.¡±


    ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°I will, but I can¡¯t just say here, wolfy wolfy, good doggy, ya know? He¡¯s not that well trained.¡±


    In response, the wolf snarled at me.


    ¡°I thought he was yours.¡±


    ¡°He is.¡± I glared defiantly at Desmond. ¡°But sometimes he doesn¡¯t recognize my authority.¡±


    The wolf gave a sneer, curling one lip higher to expose more fang.

 Page 33

    ¡°Ma¡¯am¡­¡±


    ¡°You need to try calming down, Zuzu.¡± I hated to keep saying his name because it was bloody ridiculous, but I needed the guy to keep his attention on me and not the wolf. Maybe using some old-school hostage-negotiating tactics would help.


    Unfortunately for me, the hostage taker in this case was a werewolf with no human control, and my only frame of reference for dealing with this kind of situation was repeated viewings of the Kevin Spacey movie The Negotiator. I asked myself, What would Kevin Spacey do?


    He¡¯d give a rousing monologue and collect a hundred Oscars.


    That didn¡¯t help me much.


    ¡°Take a deep breath,¡± I instructed.


    ¡°Oh-o-kay.¡± His deep breath sounded like forty-five small ones.


    ¡°One more time.¡±


    He tried again, and this time managed to take one big breath. Which he held.


    ¡°Let it out,¡± I told him.


    He sputtered.


    The whole time I kept watching Desmond, and the wolf kept watching me. I didn¡¯t want to shoot him, but I didn¡¯t know how to subdue him. I was supposed to be Queen, but I didn¡¯t have the first fucking clue how to make him yield to my power.


    My wolf might know, but could I let her have that kind of control without her stabbing me in the back and running wild with it?


    Yes, came the answer inside my own head.


    ¡°Yes I can trust you, or yes you¡¯re going to screw me over?¡± I muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± Zuzu asked.


    ¡°Deep breath, Zoo. Don¡¯t move, and keep breathing.¡±


    You can trust me.


    Fat fucking chance.


    I can help you.


    She was alert now, stirring inside me. Feeling the wolf part of me move like it was its own entity hadn¡¯t stopped being weird for me. I wasn¡¯t sure I could get used to sharing my body with a wild animal, even if she had been there as long as I¡¯d been alive.


    Trust me. Trust yourself.


    This coming from the bitch who¡¯d run away from the pack to do God knew what in the Louisiana woods.


    They weren¡¯t my pack, she scolded. He is my pack. He is our mate.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°But don¡¯t shift.¡±


    Fine. Get on the ground, and put the gun down.


    I didn¡¯t love the initial instructions, but she was playing nice for now, so I wanted to do my part. If we had to coexist¡ªliterally¡ªwe might as well learn to work together.


    I got to my knees, much to Zuzu¡¯s visible dismay, and put the gun on the floor behind me.


    I¡¯ve got this from here.


    When I opened my mouth again, the voice that came out was mine, but it wasn¡¯t me speaking. I¡¯d never heard myself sound so rough and forceful. ¡°Bow before me, lesser creature, for I am your rightful ruler and you will yield to my commands.¡±


    Desmond¡¯s ears went from flattened to perked up, and he gave a low whine.


    I advanced towards him on all fours, and bared my teeth at him, my gaze not dropping, never showing him any signs of weakness. In spite of the fact my human teeth weren¡¯t anywhere near as imposing as his wolf ones, he still looked uneasy.


    ¡°Bow before me,¡± the foreign version of my voice said again.


    The wolf took a step away from Zuzu, watching the fae before turning back to me. Zuzu, for his part, now seemed more afraid of me than he was the wolf.


    I growled, and it was not a sound a human throat should have been able to make. It rumbled in my belly and shook my bones.


    Desmond¡¯s legs stretched out before him, and he lay with his belly flat on the ground, covering his muzzle with one paw.


    ¡°You will not disrespect my authority again,¡± I told him.


    He whined in reply.


    Zuzu looked like he was going to wet himself, and his fear gave my inner wolf a thrill.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough for now,¡± I whispered, more to my wolf than to anyone else in the room. I collected my gun, rearming the safety.


    For now, she thought back.


    Chapter Thirty-Four


    She let her humanity slip.


    Calliope¡¯s words echoed in my head as I led Holden and wolf-Desmond back through the palace, following Zuzu, who walked ahead of us. He¡¯d been sent to bring us before Aubrey, and I think the last thing he¡¯d expected was to be cornered by a werewolf and then witness said werewolf take a browbeating from a possessed woman.


    But that was his own damn fault. He lived in fairyland, for crying out loud. Wasn¡¯t this a place where anything could happen? Hadn¡¯t I seen glowing flowers and a man wearing an outfit made out of moss? Did we not arrive here through a magical fucking door?


    I found myself getting angrier and angrier at Zuzu as we walked, upset with him for being afraid of us. Mostly because it meant we were somehow scarier and more fucked up than anything in the fae realm. And there was no way I could believe that was true.


    As soon as we arrived in the throne room, Zuzu vanished out a side door. I would bet good money we¡¯d never see him again.


    ¡°I trust your evening was restful,¡± Aubrey said by way of greeting. ¡°Though I see one of your party has slipped his mortal form.¡±


    ¡°Alternative realities are a tricky thing like that,¡± I replied, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his comments.


    ¡°Did you sleep well after the ball?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well.¡± He gave me a knowing smile. A little too knowing. ¡°That will happen.¡±


    ¡°Mmm.¡±


    The more time I spent with Aubrey Delacourte¡ªand granted it hadn¡¯t been much time at all¡ªthe less I liked him. Besides the similarities of appearance and the way they tended to talk in circles, I couldn¡¯t find a lot of ways Aubrey and Calliope were alike. They did both have a habit of trying my patience, but I could at least count on Calliope to come through with something useful in the end.


    Aubrey wasn¡¯t here to help me.


    He snapped his fingers twice, and a door behind him opened. A man came through who was average height. He was the man from the night before, but I was able to get a better look at him now. He would have been incredibly handsome if he¡¯d been in any other company. With Aubrey and Holden in the room the quota for beauty had already been exceeded, and this guy just looked pleasant and symmetrical. That was the best I could think of him.


    Kellen followed behind him, her fingers entwined with his. She was wearing a gold dress, her long brown hair done up in an elegant Grecian bun, and she appeared to be happy. I¡¯d seen Kellen giddy-happy and drunk-happy, but there was something about the expression on her face I didn¡¯t recognize. She was so happy I didn¡¯t trust it. She looked over at us and gave a wave, but her attention was fixated on the fairy.


    ¡°You¡¯ve had time to make your observations,¡± I told Aubrey. ¡°Now let¡¯s come to an arrangement. That was your promise. One of them, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Ah, careful now.¡± He raised his index finger and waggled it side to side. ¡°I promised no such thing. I said if you and I could agree to terms, then I would let her go.¡±


    Motherfucker. The fae should all moonlight as lawyers.


    ¡°I did have time to observe,¡± Aubrey continued. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching you since you arrived here.¡±


    ¡°I bet.¡±


    ¡°And I do have the terms of her release, should you be ready to hear them.¡±


    ¡°Never been readier.¡± That was the God¡¯s honest truth. The sooner I could get Kellen and bring everyone home, the happier I¡¯d be.


    ¡°My terms are a trade.¡±


    The word trade hit me like I¡¯d fallen into ice water. ¡°A¡­what?¡±


    ¡°I will trade for the girl.¡±


    The gears of my brain started grinding, desperate to find something, anything that would make him give me any other terms. ¡°But she¡¯s not yours. He took her.¡± I pointed to the average-enough-looking fae. ¡°You can¡¯t trade for something that isn¡¯t yours.¡±


    ¡°Clever. But you are sadly mistaken. I am King, and therefore everything here is mine to barter and trade for as I see fit. He may have her now, but if it were my desire, she would be mine. As you wish to have her back, I feel like something should be left in her place. That seems fair, does it not?¡±


    Don¡¯t agree. Don¡¯t agree. Whatever you do, don¡¯t agree, screamed the intelligent part of my brain. The desperate part wanted to grab Kellen and make a break for it. I wanted to do or say anything to get us out of there. But the underused McQueen smarts made me think better of rash actions.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡± I stopped myself mid-sentence. I needed to think very carefully before I said anything. If I told him I didn¡¯t agree to the trade, our promise was void. He¡¯d only let Kellen go if we came to an agreement. I couldn¡¯t tell him I did agree, because I had no idea what he wanted from me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t what?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I have to offer that would inspire you to request a trade,¡± I said finally, picking each word carefully and making sure to keep sarcasm out of my tone.


    He smiled, seeming to appreciate my participation in his game.


    ¡°As I mentioned, I kept a close eye on you.¡±


    ¡°As one does when observing,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Yes.¡± His look told me I shouldn¡¯t interrupt again. ¡°And I have found your attachment to your companions to be quite intriguing. You bed this one¡­¡± he pointed to Holden, ¡°¡­but still you risk your own life instead of harming this one.¡± Desmond was sitting beside me like a well-trained dog. My hand went to his head, as if touching him could protect him from the weight of Aubrey¡¯s gaze.


    I didn¡¯t say anything, because I didn¡¯t want to make him think my feelings went one way or the other.


    ¡°I want you to choose,¡± he said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°The terms of my trade are this. You are attached to both your male companions. I cannot tell which you care for more. It bothers me not to know, and so I want you to choose. The one you care for most you can keep. The one you do not choose will stay here in place of the girl. I will have done you a great favor.¡±

 Page 34

    ¡°How do you figure that?¡± I choked out, unable to believe I was hearing him correctly.


    ¡°Once you have chosen, you will no longer be torn between them. I will have saved you the heartache of further attachment and the moment when you would ultimately have to choose anyway. Now you may do it for noble reasons instead of selfish ones.¡±


    ¡°Swell.¡±


    ¡°And now, Miss McQueen, if you would be so kind. Make your choice.¡±


    Chapter Thirty-Five


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be fucking kidding me.¡± Decorum be damned.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like the arrangement?¡± Aubrey feigned surprise at my outburst. ¡°I thought it to be quite fair. Do you not think it fair, Brokk?¡± He addressed the fairy who was holding Kellen.


    ¡°I think it more than fair,¡± the fairy replied.


    ¡°And you, girl. Do you find it fair?¡±


    Kellen looked uneasy, fidgeting from foot to foot, clutching Brokk¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m, uh¡­not sure? I don¡¯t want to go.¡±


    What did she mean? The fairy must have a spell over her, convincing her she didn¡¯t want to leave. What was it with fairies putting people under spells?


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t the question, though,¡± Aubrey said. ¡°I asked if you thought my arrangement was fair.¡±


    Brokk patted her hand and whispered something in her ear. Kellen looked nervous but said, ¡°Yes. Very fair.¡±


    Holden raised his hand. ¡°I¡¯m not a big fan.¡±


    I didn¡¯t shush him because the deal was between Aubrey and me, so Holden could voice whatever opinion he wanted without undoing the bargain. I was still trying to suss out how I might magically talk my way out of this ordeal and still have Kellen with me when I left.


    ¡°Your Majesty, may I speak plainly?¡± I spoke through gritted teeth, each polite word more of an effort than the last.


    ¡°I suppose.¡±


    ¡°The terms you are suggesting are ones you know I cannot possibly comply with.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense, it is a simple choice.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t. It is an impossible choice to ask someone to choose favorites between those she loves, and if you knew anything about love, you¡¯d see why I can¡¯t pick one or the other.¡±


    ¡°I know love, possibly better than you do. You make a mockery of it by suggesting you can love two as equally as you can love one. The heart is not meant to be divided so.¡±


    I was on a roll now, and there was no stopping me. I¡¯d logic my way out of this if it killed me. ¡°Can a heart be broken?¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡±


    ¡°Then there can¡¯t be a limit to the number of pieces a heart can be divided into. If my heart can break into a million pieces, surely it can be evenly divided more than once.¡±


    Aubrey¡¯s face went red.


    ¡°And if we¡¯ve proven my heart can be divided as many times as it can be broken, you must also agree the love each piece feels must be equal to that of another. Correct?¡±


    He said nothing, and his cheeks flushed darker.


    ¡°Then if all that is true, it must be true that I love each of these men equally, and neither less than the other, and as such the terms you have issued cannot possibly be complied with. You have set an impossible task for me, and the bargain is unfair.¡±


    Silence filled the room. I wanted someone to stand and give me a goddamn ovation for what I¡¯d just managed to pull out of my ass. I had to settle for the intelligent part of my brain giving a sigh of relief.


    ¡°Miss McQueen, a word if I may.¡± Aubrey rose from his throne and strode towards me. Not waiting for me to accept his invitation, he grabbed my arm and dragged me behind him with remarkable strength I would not have expected from his lean body.


    He ushered me across the room and through a black-wood door that didn¡¯t match the rest of the room. The room was dark inside and very small.


    ¡°Did you just pull us into a closet?¡±


    Aubrey looked around, as if only now realizing where he had taken us. ¡°I believe I may have, yes.¡±


    Nice to know even the fae needed janitorial provisions. No magic mops and buckets here.


    ¡°Do you know what you did to me out there?¡± he asked. His voice was level, so if he was angry, he was hiding it very, very well.


    ¡°I out-talked you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s certainly one way to put it. But, no, Miss McQueen. You played me for a fool.¡±


    ¡°If I was able to, then you set yourself up to be played. The terms were flawed, and I exposed the flaws. I did to your game exactly what you were trying to do to me. Doesn¡¯t feel very good, does it?¡±


    His cheeks flushed again. ¡°No. It does not.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still willing to comply with the arrangement we made. But you need to set real terms. If it¡¯s a trade, it has to be something I can give, and the freedom of another person isn¡¯t mine to barter with.¡±


    ¡°But we are bartering for someone¡¯s freedom.¡±


    ¡°Kellen isn¡¯t some fairy lord¡¯s plaything. I know you might not understand that because your people have been kidnapping women since before there was a written record to show it, but you had to figure one day someone might come looking for one of those women.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t the first, you know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, there are plenty of epic poems in my world, believe me. The point is, she¡¯s not a thing, she¡¯s someone¡¯s sister. Someone¡¯s friend. And we want her back.¡±


    ¡°The girl is nothing to me.¡±


    ¡°Then let me have her.¡± My anger rattled some jars on the shelf and was probably heard outside.


    ¡°Shush, shush.¡± He held a finger to his lips like that might soothe me. ¡°Times certainly have changed in your world. I remember when a proper lady never spoke above a whisper.¡±


    ¡°Tough shit for you, then, because I¡¯ve never been a proper lady.¡±


    ¡°And yet you are a queen.¡±


    I crossed my arms and shrugged.


    ¡°I cannot simply give her to you,¡± he said once it was apparent I had nothing to add to his point. ¡°It would look weak and even more foolish than you have already made me. I have set the terms as a trade, and so a trade it must be.¡±


    ¡°But it won¡¯t be for another person.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And it won¡¯t be for someone you and your kind view as being something other than a person,¡± I added, recalling how Ghillie had dismissed Holden as being dead.


    Aubrey tapped my nose and I recoiled. ¡°You learn quickly.¡±


    ¡°A wise woman told me not to put my trust in fairies.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so invested in what that woman claims is wisdom.¡±


    ¡°When you can see into the future, Your Majesty, I¡¯ll start listening to your wisdom over hers.¡±


    He didn¡¯t have anything to say, which was a bonus because I was starting to get worn out with all the wordplay.


    When he continued, we were back on topic. ¡°We agree that I will take a trade.¡±


    ¡°Something mine alone to give.¡±


    ¡°It will be something valuable.¡±


    ¡°As long as it isn¡¯t anyone¡¯s life, you and I have a deal.¡±


    He smiled, and I didn¡¯t like it. ¡°Very well. I believe I know just the thing.¡±


    I was desperately hoping he would suggest my firstborn. With my useless, self-defeating womb, it would be the perfect solution. ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°Something you hold dear but is reviled by others. Your greatest weapon.¡± He patted my cheek. ¡°I will like to have it very much.¡±


    I searched my brain for what he might be talking about, cataloguing my possessions. Then I remembered my fae katana, the one I¡¯d soiled by using it to slay the undead. I remembered the way the creepy fairy twins had reacted to it, and reviled was an appropriate word.


    I really liked that sword. I would go so far as to say I loved it, in the way one can love a possession. The damned thing had saved my life more times than I could count in the years I¡¯d had it, and if we were keeping score, it had also saved the world once.


    ¡°When do I have to give it to you?¡± I¡¯d left it in our room. For all I knew he already had someone collecting it. I wouldn¡¯t even get to say goodbye.


    Snap out of it, Secret. It¡¯s a sword, not your best friend.


    ¡°Once you pass through the gate, it will be gone.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll have Kellen. And Holden, and Desmond.¡±


    ¡°You will have everyone you came with.¡±


    ¡°And everyone I left behind,¡± I reminded him carefully.


    ¡°Yes. No one you hold dear will be touched.¡±


    I hefted a big sigh. One sword for the promised well-being of all my loved ones? It would suck, but that was his price, and I was willing to pay it.


    ¡°Deal,¡± I said, and offered him my hand.


    He looked amused by the gesture but took my palm in his and gave it a shake.


    ¡°That¡¯s it then? We¡¯re done?¡±


    Aubrey nodded. ¡°Go collect your things. I will prepare the gate for your return, and Kellen will say her farewells to Brokk.¡±


    ¡°¡®So long¡­ Thanks for kidnapping me.¡¯¡±


    ¡°You underestimate so many things, my dear. But you¡¯ll learn a thing or two about human attachment yet in your life.¡±


    ¡°I think I know more about human attachment than you ever will.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± he said, and I didn¡¯t like the implication of his words one bit.


    Chapter Thirty-Six


    Fairies must love consumerism, because the gate we exited took us through the front door of a Bath & Body Works south of Harlem.


    I did a quick headcount and was relieved to see I had one vampire, one werewolf¡ªstill in wolf form¡ªand one human heiress. Add one exhausted half-vampire/half-werewolf Tribunal head and we could do our own fucked-up version of the YMCA.


    Once I¡¯d accounted for everyone and breathed an internal sigh of relief, I took stock of myself. Gun? Check. All essential body parts? Check. Pulse? Well, I was able to stand around and think and breathe, so chances were good my pulse was a big old check. Magic fairy sword? Huh. Check.

 Page 35

    ¡°Is anyone missing anything?¡± I asked, looking over the group to see if there were any obvious omissions¡ªlegs, arms, heads. Aside from Kellen sobbing like a preteen passed over for a dance at the sock hop, everything seemed right.


    ¡°Anything being¡­?¡± Holden replied.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡­don¡¯t know what¡¯s happened.¡±


    The night was cool, still clinging to the chilly dregs of spring. I felt the cold with a shocking clarity, and not how I normally would¡ªacknowledging the temperature but not feeling it. But the moment I stopped worrying about the members of my party, or the digits on my body, I was acutely aware of how uncomfortable I was.


    ¡°It¡¯s cold,¡± I said absently. ¡°Isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s cold.¡±


    ¡°Secret?¡±


    Something felt wrong. I could smell the garbage piled on the street, but I couldn¡¯t smell the woodsy moss of Desmond¡¯s fur or the scent of Holden¡¯s skin. I could hear the thrum of traffic a block away, but I couldn¡¯t hear the snatches of conversation from buildings around us or the throb of Kellen¡¯s pulse.


    Desmond paced nervously in front of me, whining and rubbing his muzzle against my thigh. He sat, staring up at me, and the concern in his violet-gray eyes made me queasy. I felt dizzy, my chest tight and sweat beading on my temples.


    ¡°Holden?¡± I looked at the vampire and saw five of him. ¡°I don¡¯t feel so good.¡±


    He caught me right as I collapsed.


    I woke up in my own bed, or at least it felt like my bed. I couldn¡¯t see a damned thing in the murky darkness surrounding me, but the comforter and mattress felt familiar. My alarm clock glowed on the opposite nightstand, telling me it was after eight thirty. How had I slept so late? I must have done a real number on myself coming through the gate if I¡¯d been out for such a long time.


    Come to think of it, I didn¡¯t know when we¡¯d passed back into our own reality. The time, hell even the date. I had no idea how long we¡¯d been gone or if time was different here than it had been there. In Calliope¡¯s realm nothing was different, but it was a halfway point. We¡¯d gone all the way to the other side, and I had no idea if it we¡¯d come back to the same time or not.


    I climbed out of bed, tripped over a tangle of pants on the floor and landed on my knees.


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    Okay, awesome. My messy bedroom had finally claimed me as a victim. How had I gone this long without face planting, and now on my first day home I stumbled on the only piece of clothing on the floor?


    How had I not seen them?


    Climbing to my feet and rubbing my raw knees, I tiptoed to the door, knocking my shin hard against the armchair and letting out another cuss before getting hold of the handle. Something had happened to throw me off my equilibrium. I was hoping it was just a bad case of interdimensional jet lag.


    I staggered into the hallway, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and angled myself towards the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, I felt a strange warmth on my back and dropped my hands. My yellow kitchen was bright. Too bright.


    I turned to face my living room, my heart leapt into my throat, and I ducked into the kitchen, hiding behind the wall and keeping my legs out of the path of the light cutting an angry swath through the tiny space.


    Sunlight poured into my apartment, turning my usually shadowy corners into blistering, white-hot light reflectors. I¡¯d escaped it in my bedroom because of the bricked window intended to keep me safe from the very light now surrounding me.


    I held my hands out in front of me, inspecting them for blisters or burns, but my skin was unblemished. I¡¯d been standing in the hall long enough to feel the warmth. It should have been long enough for me to start showing signs of damage.


    My heart pounded harder.


    Motes of dust swirled in the column of sunlight beside me, churning like minute insects in the brightness. Reaching out, I put my hand into the light and kept it palm up, the sun making my pale skin look much whiter than I¡¯d seen it appear before.


    And I wasn¡¯t burning.


    The heat coming off the light was amazing, warmth without pain, a sensation of tingles causing my hairs to stand on end, but not from cold. A shiver of excitement riveted me, and I brought my hand back to my face, sniffing my skin. I could smell the sunlight.


    ¡°Oh God¡­¡±


    My fingers were still warm when I touched them to my lips.


    And I wasn¡¯t burning.


    I wasn¡¯t burning.


    Stepping into the light went against every logical fiber of my being, but I had to know. First I angled my foot and then my leg into the sunshine. Then I was standing in the light entirely, squinting at the shocking brightness.


    My breath caught, and I let out a shaky sigh. I had to be dreaming, but this was so far beyond anything I¡¯d ever imagined. This was too much. In my dreams, sunlight was fleeting and often a force of foreboding. But nothing here was hurting me.


    I stood in the hall, blinded by the brightness but able to feel a previously unknown abundance of sensation. I¡¯d only once ventured out into the sun, and it was by necessity, not desire. Even then I¡¯d been so densely bundled that barely an inch of skin was showing on my whole body. Now I was barefoot, my toes curling against the warm pile of the carpet, and my eyelids were glowing pinkish-gold from the sunlight I couldn¡¯t yet face head-on.


    Leaning forward, I braced myself against the wall I knew was there and pressed my cheek to it. Was this what everything felt like in the sunlight? As if it were a living thing with a pulse, giving energy to every item it fell on? Each thing I touched in my apartment that I used to take for granted, was now warm like the body of a lover.


    A sigh escaped my lips, and it was such a rapturous sound it should have followed an orgasm. Instead it was from touching a warm living room wall. What would it feel like to stand outside? Would I become this warm? Against all reason I wanted to try it.


    ¡°Secret?¡± A groggy male voice broke through my reverie. ¡°Secret, what the hell?¡± The panic in the second sentence made me open my eyes finally.


    Was I on fire? I didn¡¯t feel like I was on fire.


    Desmond was butt naked and standing next to my loveseat, a tangled blanket bunched at his feet where it must have fallen when he rushed to his feet. He looked frantic with worry, but also afraid. I surveyed my arms and hands, still squinting from the shock of the sunlight. I wasn¡¯t on fire. There wasn¡¯t even a mild burning smell to give warning. Just my ghastly pale arms.


    ¡°Am I dreaming?¡± I asked him.


    He shook out of his own stupor and grabbed my extended arm, hauling me out of the living room and back into my dark tomb of a bedroom, where he slammed the door shut behind us, blocking out all of the sunshine. I felt colder, and after being exposed to the light, the darkness was more encompassing.


    ¡°I can¡¯t see.¡±


    The overhead light snapped on, bathing the room in dim yellow. I wanted to go back into the living room.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Desmond came close, his rough fingertips trailing over my tingling skin as he inspected me, presumably for any signs of damage. ¡°What did you do to your knees?¡±


    I followed his gaze down and saw what he was looking at. Both my knees were an angry shade of red. They weren¡¯t bleeding, but they looked nasty. Rug burn might be unpleasant, but there was no way it wouldn¡¯t have healed in a matter of seconds. Desmond and I both stared at my knees.


    ¡°You can tell me if I¡¯m dreaming,¡± I said.


    ¡°You¡¯re not dreaming.¡±


    ¡°Then why are you naked?¡±


    He rubbed his thumb over my knee, and I winced, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. ¡°Usually people dream of themselves being naked, not other people,¡± he reminded me.


    ¡°You¡¯ve obviously never seen how you look naked if you think people would rather dream about themselves instead of you.¡± My view of his perfect ass was obstructed by the top of his head, but he had a nice head so I wasn¡¯t going to complain too much.


    ¡°Are you drunk?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You mean did I sleep-drink myself to a point where I woke up at nine in the morning and stumbled out into a sunlit living room?¡±


    Desmond glanced up, and we stared at each other. ¡°It didn¡¯t seem like a stupid question when I asked it. Yet somehow you word it like that and I come across as a moron.¡±


    ¡°I want to go back into the living room.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    At this point, as much as I loved him, I didn¡¯t care what he thought. This might be a spell, or a side effect of being in the fae realm, but whatever it was was letting me feel the heat of sunlight on my bare skin for the first time in twenty-three years, and I wasn¡¯t going to give it up for anything. Even if I had to force my way through him.


    I dodged to the side, but not quickly enough. He grabbed my arm and tugged me back towards him. His hold was rough, and when he pulled me, it hurt. Desmond was strong¡ªhe was an alpha-level werewolf after all¡ªbut I was stronger. He shouldn¡¯t have been able to yank me that hard. And it shouldn¡¯t have hurt.


    He must have seen the pain in my response because he immediately dropped my hand and got to his feet. ¡°Are you okay? I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±


    The gears in my brain were spinning like a locomotive about to jump the tracks. I could stand in the sun. A minor wound wasn¡¯t healing. My pulse kept jumping around like a rabbit on crack. And Desmond had been able to hurt me. I thought about the previous night too. How I hadn¡¯t been able to smell or hear things I normally should have.


    My heart hammered. ¡°Take me outside,¡± I told him.


    ¡°That¡¯s the worst idea I¡¯ve ever¡ª¡±


    ¡°Desmond, please. I need to go outside.¡± Before he could come up with a reason not to take me, I scooped my wrinkled jeans off the floor and wriggled myself into them. ¡°Now.¡± Without waiting for him I turned back to the door and was out in the hall and halfway through the living room before he caught up, a pair of his old jeans barely covering his ass. He fought with the zipper¡ªcarefully, since he wasn¡¯t wearing underwear¡ªand trailed me up the short stairs and out into the bright May morning. At least I thought it was May still.

 Page 36

    I halted so abruptly outside my apartment he had to brace his hands on my waist to stop his own forward momentum.


    ¡°Desmond, you¡¯d tell me if this was a dream, right?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if this was your dream, but I¡¯m not a hundred percent sure I¡¯m not still asleep.¡±


    We both stood barefoot on the sidewalk, him staring at me and me wincing at the piercing blueness of the sky and how fucking shiny everything was. Light cut like a blade off any smooth surface it touched, coming back to hurt me. But I¡¯d never felt a pain so delicious as that of the sun.


    My skin felt glorious, like I was surrounded by bathtub water. It was nothing like the heat of a summer night. I knew what it was to be uncomfortable in my own skin because of how oppressive the air temperature was. This was nothing like that.


    While I basked in the glory of daylight, ignoring the looks we were getting from passing pedestrians, I considered Aubrey¡¯s words to me. He¡¯d said he would take something that was mine alone to give. My greatest weapon.


    I was gripped by an overwhelming panic, my hands shaking so hard I thought they¡¯d never stop. I finally had an idea of what those words could mean, and what my greatest weapon was. But I was at a total loss for how to prove my new hypothesis.


    ¡°Do I smell different to you?¡± I asked, grasping at the only thing I could think of on the spot.


    ¡°Different how?¡±


    I turned to him and took one of his hands in both of mine, gazing at him imploringly. ¡°Smell me. I need to know if I smell different.¡±


    He tucked his face into the curve of my neck, the intimacy of the gesture giving me an unexpected thrill. When he withdrew, his expression showed confusion. ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know if I¡¯m just thinking it¡¯s something when it¡¯s nothing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m different.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    Desmond cupped my face in his free hand and stroked his thumb across my cheek. I didn¡¯t know what to make of the look in his eyes or the funny little smile on his lips. ¡°You don¡¯t smell like death anymore. And you don¡¯t smell like wolf either.¡±


    I swallowed hard. ¡°How do I smell?¡±


    ¡°Human.¡±


    Chapter Thirty-Seven


    Desmond and I sat across from each other in a booth at the back of a brunch-only diner in Midtown. The checkered black-and-white floor and butter-yellow walls all screamed 1950s throwback, but I was loving it. I¡¯d been walking past it for years and had felt embittered I wasn¡¯t able to go in. Brunch is a luxury I had never been able to participate in.


    Until now.


    I had four plates in front of me: one with homemade Norwegian waffles topped with raspberry preserves and whipped cream; one with buttermilk biscuits smothered in a white sausage gravy; a third had a stack of blueberry pancakes doused in layers of butter and maple syrup; and the last held a bacon, bacon and bacon omelet. The waitress had stopped visiting to refill my coffee and left a whole carafe on the table with us instead.


    Desmond¡ªstill recouping from his shift¡ªwas picking at a protein breakfast with eggs, sausages and bacon. He seemed enthralled by watching me eat, though, and most of his own breakfast had been forgotten.


    I bit into one of the biscuits. The fluffy, crusty pastry crumbled in my mouth, and the savory, saltiness of the gravy overtook the butter of the bun. I¡¯d eaten real food before in my life, but because I hadn¡¯t had a need for it, the delight of it had been lost to me. Now I felt like I was making up for twenty-three years of forgotten breakfasts, lunches and dinners.


    ¡°Are you going to eat that?¡± I asked, pointing to one of his maple-glazed sausages.


    He shook his head, and I speared it on my fork before wrapping it in one of the pancakes and taking a huge bite.


    Desmond looked under the table then righted himself. ¡°Funny,¡± he commented.


    ¡°Whurt?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d assumed you must have two hollow legs under there. But no.¡±


    I tried to stick my tongue out at him, but there was too much food in my mouth.


    ¡°You definitely look like a princess right now,¡± he added sarcastically.


    That stopped me mid-chew, my fork poised over the waffle. All it took was the dreaded P word to pull me back from the dream I was blissfully lost in. He hadn¡¯t meant to kill my joy, but he¡¯d unfortunately brought me right back to the real world. The world where I had responsibilities and people who depended on me.


    I put my fork down and sat back in the squishy booth, reaching for the nearly empty coffee cup nearby to keep myself from fidgeting.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do about this?¡±


    Desmond mirrored my actions, setting his own cutlery aside and relaxing into his seat. ¡°I don¡¯t know, honestly. I want to be pragmatic and figure out what¡¯s happened, how this is even possible. But right now all I want to do is dance for fucking joy that you don¡¯t smell like a vampire anymore.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t smell like anything anymore,¡± I reminded him. ¡°Werewolf, either.¡±


    He gave a half shrug and stopped trying to hide his smile. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I get to see you in the light.¡±


    The same vision that had been in my head all morning came rushing back, filling me with a fizzy jubilance akin to being drunk on champagne. It was me, free from all the Tribunal and wolf pack bullshit, walking hand in hand with Desmond, not into the sunset but into the bright warmth of the midafternoon sun.


    No more vampires. No werewolf king. No hunting down baddies with Keaty. The bottom line of it was, if I was human, my life was my own at last. I couldn¡¯t be a wolf queen if I couldn¡¯t be a wolf. And if the Tribunal had problems letting a half-blood vampire rule the roost, they certainly weren¡¯t going to let me play boss as a human.


    I could be normal. Desmond could leave the pack¡ªLucas had made it abundantly clear he was willing to let Desmond go. It could just be us two, out in the world. My body would stop fighting me and I could have babies with this man. Babies who¡¯d grow up with werewolf DNA, but they¡¯d exist, and they¡¯d be mine and his.


    But if I no longer had my vampire side, what did it mean for me and Holden? My heart sank, and a guilty feeling swelled into the pit of my stomach. For the longest time I¡¯d believed I could keep Holden at a distance and not let him get to me. There was no way I could pretend anymore, though. Now that we¡¯d spent the night together, there wasn¡¯t going to be an easy way to live my life without him, and I didn¡¯t know what this new turn of events meant for us.


    I made a little noise and pretended I hadn¡¯t by taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee. ¡°We don¡¯t know if this is permanent or not.¡±


    ¡°Aubrey told you he would take your greatest weapon, right?¡± I¡¯d explained my theory to him on the way over. Spoken aloud it sounded more and more logical every time I said it. Desmond continued, ¡°And what weapon did you have more powerful than your supernatural abilities?¡±


    ¡°My keen wit?¡±


    He reached across the table, carefully avoided the carnage of my breakfast and put his hands over mine so we were both clutching the coffee cup. ¡°As clever as you are, I don¡¯t think sarcasm has any special use for a fairy king.¡±


    ¡°You never know. They¡¯re sort of uptight. Maybe he wanted to be the funniest guy at the party.¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but clearly you haven¡¯t lost your sharp tongue, so I think it¡¯s more likely he took the monsters from you.¡±


    The monsters. My hands felt cold under his, and I slid them out of his reach, placing my palm flat against my belly like an expectant mother might. Only I wasn¡¯t thinking about what could live inside me anymore, I was thinking about what had lived inside me. My wolf was gone. There was nothing to feel within, no matter how hard I tried. Her grumpy attitudes and fierce responses had all been replaced by an empty void.


    I didn¡¯t know how to feel about it. I¡¯d barely thought about her since this had happened because she had been like another limb to me. Becoming human hadn¡¯t cut off my arms or legs, but it had ripped the wolf right out of me. And now that I was thinking about her, an ache blossomed inside me, reminding me what I¡¯d once had.


    The same empty feeling came when I tongued my canines and they were boring, blunt teeth. That was all they¡¯d be now.


    ¡°I¡¯m just human.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your mate anymore.¡±


    Desmond shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ll always be my mate. You have wolf DNA, even if you¡¯re not a wolf anymore. You can¡¯t change that. And who fucking cares about the soul-bond anymore anyway? Hadn¡¯t we already screwed that up a million different ways?¡±


    I twisted my hands in my lap. ¡°A million sounds like a low estimate.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anymore.¡±


    But it did. If we were going to make this work, I had to tell him what he¡¯d missed when he was trapped in wolf form. Not what he¡¯d done, but what I¡¯d done. I wasn¡¯t sure how much he would remember from being in his other form, but my memory of a night in bed with Holden was crystal clear. ¡°Something happened when we were gone. When you were a wolf. I can¡¯t blame¡ª¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anymore,¡± he said again, and when I met his gaze, I saw how serious he was. ¡°I want to leave the past in the past. People don¡¯t get fresh starts like this every day, Secret, and I don¡¯t want to waste a single goddamn second dwelling on what did or didn¡¯t happen, and with who, when we can pretend like it was the bad dream and this is reality.¡±


    I thought more about Holden and how I¡¯d confessed before the fairy court that I loved him enough not to sacrifice his life. I¡¯d meant it. I did love Holden. When I¡¯d been one of the monsters, he¡¯d even been a more sensible choice for me than Desmond. Desmond had seemed wrong for me somehow. He was too good, too kind for my dark little world. But maybe he was right. Maybe this was exactly what we needed to brush aside all doubt. Now I could love him the way he deserved, because now I wasn¡¯t keeping him trapped in the nighttime.

 Page 37

    Maybe Aubrey Delacourte had done me the greatest favor of my life.


    Once I¡¯d had to worry about what path my destiny would take¡ªthe werewolf life or the vampire life. Now my dual futures had been obliterated and there was only one life.


    And that life was sitting across the table from me.


    Chapter Thirty-Eight


    My happily ever after wasn¡¯t meant to go off without a hitch. Apparently even as a human nothing was going to come easily for me. After spending the better part of my afternoon lying in the Sheep Meadow of Central Park with my head in Desmond¡¯s lap and my mind anywhere but on the problems of old Secret¡¯s life, I got called back to reality.


    By Lucas.


    Dusk had settled over the city when Desmond and I started walking back to the apartment, and the sounds of my cellphone singing ¡°Maneater¡± cut through my waking dream. Stupid goddamn phone. I should have thrown it in the Bethesda Fountain when I¡¯d had a chance. Hell, I should have hopped on a plane to Las Vegas with Desmond the second we¡¯d realized what had happened to me. Anything to get both of us as far from New York City as we could get.


    But we¡¯d stayed, and now I had to deal with my nighttime life again.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± I asked, not really caring what his response was.


    ¡°Where the hell have you been?¡± roared the response from the opposite end of the phone. ¡°I told you very clearly you had a week to get her back, and three weeks later she shows up? In that time no one has a single fucking clue where you¡¯ve been or if you¡¯re coming back?¡±


    I waited, listening to him shout and curse and shout some more. When he finally took a breath, I interjected, ¡°First, you didn¡¯t give me a week, you gave me to the end of the week. And, correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but I did bring Kellen home, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°And can you tell me the last time you went into a different plane of existence, Lucas? Do you have the faintest clue of how time functions in a fairy world?¡±


    ¡°A¡­what?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. If you¡¯d stopped your bitching for ten seconds and actually asked me what happened to her, I would have told you. Your sister was kidnapped by fairies.¡±


    ¡°Did you say¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Fairies. F-a-i¡ª¡±


    ¡°Okay, I heard you.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure. Sometimes I think you only hear the sound of your own voice.¡±


    Desmond and I had arrived in Hell¡¯s Kitchen and were making slow progress towards my apartment. His lupine hearing would give him an advantage, since he¡¯d certainly be able to hear every word Lucas was saying, even if the billionaire hadn¡¯t been shouting at the top of his voice like a petulant toddler.


    ¡°Yes, she is home,¡± he said. ¡°But she won¡¯t talk to me. She won¡¯t talk to anyone. She¡¯s been locked in her apartment all day sobbing.¡±


    Sobbing? That was news. I¡¯d remembered her seeming out of sorts when we¡¯d come back through the gate, but I¡¯d written it off as some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder. That had seemed likely then, but Kellen was a tough girl. I was surprised to learn she was still upset over her ordeal. Maybe more had happened to her with the fairies than I¡¯d had a chance to learn about.


    If that scumbag had done something to her, I didn¡¯t care how mortal I was, I¡¯d go back across the gate and kick his fairy ass into another dimension.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go see her,¡± I said.


    ¡°Secret¡­¡± Desmond¡¯s voice cut in, an edge of worry coloring his typically calm tone.


    ¡°One second,¡± I said, covering the mouthpiece of the cell.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we have a second.¡± He pointed down the block to where a group of six men was walking in our direction. Their purposeful strides told me it wasn¡¯t a coincidence they were moving our way. They were coming for us.


    ¡°Wolves?¡± Not being able to smell them for myself made me nervous. What made me more nervous was knowing it was six against two and I didn¡¯t have any kind of supernatural strength on my side. Considering I¡¯d been bested by rug burn that morning, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be much help against six werewolves.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Desmond whispered, unable to hide how uneasy he was.


    For the first time in my adult life, I was going to be a liability to someone¡¯s safety just by being with them.


    ¡°Lucas, I gotta go.¡± I hung up the phone before he could reply.


    Even if I wasn¡¯t going to be much use in the strength department, I had something that could do damage against wolves. After dropping my cell back into my purse, I withdrew my SIG, pulled my hand back out and clicked off the safety. These guys weren¡¯t here for Desmond, they were here for me. I could already see Hank and the ponytailed scumbag among the group.


    My mom¡¯s pack.


    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you think they¡¯ll go easy on us if I tell them about my predicament?¡± I gave Desmond a fake-hopeful smile. He grimaced in return. ¡°So much for putting my past behind us, eh?¡± That didn¡¯t seem to make him laugh either. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t in a laughing mood at the moment, but being human didn¡¯t mean I had to be deathly serious all the time.


    Maybe deathly was the wrong way to think of things right now.


    I¡¯d been human less than twenty-four hours, and I was already looking down certain death. This had to be a record for the shortest lifespan of a newborn twenty-three-year-old ever.


    But then I reminded myself how often my death had seemed like a sure thing in the past, and I was still kicking, so maybe this wasn¡¯t hopeless. I did have Desmond with me, and my gun. And a fucked-up adulthood that had trained me how to think and behave in situations like this one. Not to mention my training had all come from one man¡­a human man.


    Fuck the discouraging thoughts. I might be human, but I was still Secret McQueen.


    I chambered a round and dropped my purse to the ground. If I couldn¡¯t use it to kill someone, it wasn¡¯t any good to me, and as big as my purse was I don¡¯t think it qualified as a deadly weapon quite yet.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how much use I¡¯m going to be against the big ones,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°Stay behind me.¡±


    ¡°I can take out the scrawny one. And the leader.¡± My voice didn¡¯t belie my uncertainty, for which I was grateful. Sounding self-assured went a long way towards making me feel it.


    ¡°Secret, stay behind me.¡±


    The pack was only a block away, close enough to hear what we were saying, so I chose my next works carefully. ¡°I know you¡¯re prone to being protective, but I¡¯m not useless here.¡± I waved my gun in his peripheral vision. ¡°I can handle myself. If I can¡¯t, then I¡¯ll stay behind you.¡±


    Desmond, who had been rigid and standing with a fighter¡¯s determination, shifted his position to look at me. In one brutally masculine gesture he grabbed me by the waist and yanked me against him, his mouth crushing mine with a rough, hot kiss that made my whole body explode with tingles. When he released me, I was dizzy and my feet had gone missing.


    ¡°I won¡¯t lose you, understand? Not now.¡±


    The pack was crossing the street, and we didn¡¯t have time for romantic proclamations, just barely enough time for me to whisper, ¡°Not ever.¡±


    Chapter Thirty-Nine


    In some ways being human was not so different from being a vampire.


    While in the throes of a vampiric rage¡ªor while my body was healing itself¡ªall the world around me would dim into a white noise. When Pony-boy and his goon squad came to a stop a few feet away from Desmond and me, the throb of my pulse in my ears was so loud it was all I could hear. All other noise vanished, and the constant reminder of my humanity thrummed inside my head.


    ¡°Be calm,¡± Desmond said quietly, even though the other men would hear him.


    ¡°This is me being calm.¡±


    ¡°Maybe be calmer.¡±


    My fingers spasmed around the grip on my gun, and I was thankful I knew better than to keep one on the trigger.


    ¡°We meet again,¡± Pony-boy said, his voice a silky growl.


    ¡°I thought I made it clear last time, I was done meeting with you.¡±


    ¡°In a city like this, it was inevitable our paths would cross a second time.¡±


    Yeah, because in a city with over eight million people there was no way to avoid one pain-in-the-butt rogue and his posse of would-be badass wolves. ¡°Be honest, you just missed me,¡± I said.


    ¡°We never took a shot. Hard to miss when you haven¡¯t tried yet.¡± This came from Hank, who was a half step behind Pony-boy. I knew what hiding looked like.


    ¡°Sorry, Hank, I couldn¡¯t hear you from behind Mom¡¯s apron strings.¡±


    Hank growled, and my body responded with a surge of pure adrenaline. My heart was screaming for me to run and my limbs wanted to listen to the order for flight. Too bad my brain was still running things, and my brain still thought like a bounty hunter.


    ¡°We heard a rumor you were gone,¡± Pony-boy added, ignoring my banter and Hank¡¯s reaction. ¡°The true queen wanted us to see if the rumors were true.¡±


    I shrugged with my hands out in front of me, giving an innocent face but also flashing my weapon at them. ¡°You¡¯ve seen me. Now you can go tell Mommy Dearest to get bent.¡±


    The men Pony-boy had with him muttered amongst themselves. I wasn¡¯t sure what they¡¯d expected from this interaction, but this back-and-forth chattering mustn¡¯t have been it. I couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying, but it wasn¡¯t outside the realm of possibility it was something along the lines of, ¡°I thought we were going to beat up a girl.¡±


    ¡°Actually, the true queen¡ª¡±


    ¡°Stop calling her that,¡± I demanded. ¡°Unless she¡¯s the true queen of being a pain in my ass, you are sorely mistaken about her title.¡±


    ¡°We know who our queen is.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right, I forgot¡­ You guys are just as crazy and fucked in the head as she is.¡±


    There was more muttering within the posse. It also hadn¡¯t escaped my notice that Desmond got stiffer and breathed more heavily each time I spoke. If I kept it up like this, I¡¯d be hearing¡ª

 Page 38

    ¡°Secret¡­¡± He only said my name, but we¡¯d done this song and dance before, so I knew exactly what meaning was loaded in that one word. I¡¯d once asked an apocalyptic demon if he would give me three wishes. I was no stranger to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.


    In this case, though, I was trying to buy time. I didn¡¯t know if kicking the hornet¡¯s nest was the best way to go about it, but it probably wasn¡¯t the worst idea I¡¯d ever had. The longer I kept them talking, the longer I avoided finding out how much a punch in the face really hurt.


    That was one human experience I could do without.


    ¡°You are bold, girl,¡± Pony-boy said.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Boldness often leads to misadventure.¡±


    Well¡­that was a threat worthy of someone much scarier than an ugly dude with a ponytail.


    I rubbed my empty hand against my leg, wiping away the sweat on my palm. ¡°Let me ask you something. You seem like a smart guy, I mean, in spite of your vacation from rationality.¡±


    Desmond¡¯s teeth ground together.


    ¡°Smart enough to see the right path,¡± Pony-boy replied.


    ¡°That¡¯s just it. You¡¯re smart, but you¡¯re making such a goddamn stupid mistake right now, I wonder if you haven¡¯t been knocked on the head.¡±


    ¡°We are not making a mistake. The only mistake here is you.¡±


    Ouch. Who needed motherly disapproval when she could send a whole pack to belittle my existence? Talk about taking my mommy issues to a whole new level.


    ¡°This is fucking stupid,¡± one of the minions grumbled. ¡°Why are we still talking to her?¡±


    ¡°Because we can¡¯t hurt her,¡± said another. I recognized him as the one I¡¯d confronted outside the restaurant¡ªIan.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Hank snapped, a vein in his neck throbbing an ugly purple color.


    Guessing they weren¡¯t supposed to let that tidbit slip.


    ¡°Let me guess¡ª¡®you can scare her, but no one touches her¡­ I want her for myself,¡¯¡± I said, mimicking my mother¡¯s bitchy soprano the best I could.


    ¡°No one said anything about him,¡± another goon said.


    I didn¡¯t care how fragile my new human bones were, no one threatened my loved ones. I raised my gun and aimed it at the wolf who¡¯d spoken. He was six feet tall and built like a linebacker. Why couldn¡¯t there be more out-of-shape werewolves out there? Or little scrappy ones like Hank? I¡¯d rather Hank be the rule than the exception. Too bad for me most wolves looked like they could be semi-pro wrestlers in their downtime.


    ¡°I say something about him,¡± I told the wolf. ¡°And I say if you come a step closer to us, you lose a head. Capice?¡±


    He curled a lip at me but didn¡¯t say anything else and didn¡¯t advance on us.


    Desmond probably didn¡¯t love having me jump to defend him when he had gone into this thinking I¡¯d be the one who needed protection, but it was in my nature to be defensive of the people I cared about, and that didn¡¯t change because I wasn¡¯t a monster anymore. If push came to shove¡ªliterally¡ªI was going to need him. But I was hoping big talk and posturing could keep us out of that.


    ¡°The queen said we couldn¡¯t kill her,¡± Pony-boy said. ¡°I don¡¯t recall hearing anything forbidding us from hurting her. And there were no rules against killing the other one.¡±


    Pony-boy was pretending not to hear me. This was a tactic I was used to.


    ¡°What did your queen say about returning home with all your limbs?¡± a voice asked from behind the posse. The six men parted, and on the sidewalk behind them was someone I couldn¡¯t have been happier to see if he was carrying six puppies and a credit card with no limit.


    Holden looked bored with our present company.


    ¡°Who does this chump think he is?¡± the stupid linebacker asked.


    ¡°Use your nose, you idiot,¡± Hank grumbled, taking a few steps away from Holden. ¡°He¡¯s a vampire.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s only one vampire.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re cute,¡± Holden said, casually unbuttoning his camel-colored coat. ¡°If you think there needs to be more than one of me to dismantle this¡­gathering¡­you must have a very inflated sense of self.¡±


    ¡°Or they¡¯ve never met a two-hundred-year-old vampire,¡± I added.


    Holden and I were both talking out our asses. Six-on-one wasn¡¯t the best odds, even in a vampire vs. werewolf scenario. Had I been myself, with Desmond in the mix, this would have been an easy win for us. As it was, we¡¯d probably still come out on top, but it wasn¡¯t going to be the cakewalk it should have been.


    Our warning seemed to be doing some good, because the new additions to the pack appeared less than thrilled to be standing between Holden and Desmond and myself. Good. I wanted to get them nice and uneasy. I was hoping one or two would commit mutiny and run for the hills. I lowered my gun, since all the attention was focused on Holden for the time being and my arm was getting sore.


    Pony-boy gave a growl that negated any hopes I¡¯d harbored of seeing the minions flee. All scuttlebutt came to an abrupt halt, and the uneasy shifting from foot to foot ceased entirely. It didn¡¯t matter that my mother was a crazy-faced bitch, she definitely had good taste when it came to the help she enlisted.


    ¡°Enough,¡± he snapped, as if the growl hadn¡¯t been suitable indication of his displeasure. ¡°We came here to do a job and we¡¯re going to damned well do it.¡±


    He received no arguments.


    ¡°My mother¡¯s business with me¡ª¡±


    With an expression that spoke to more violence than what he¡¯d already threatened out loud, the wolf stared me down, stopping my words mid-sentence. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of your mouth too. You¡¯d best listen to your man when he tells you to shut up.¡±


    Beside me, Desmond sighed heavily, aware of the impact Pony-boy¡¯s words would have. Holden, equally familiar with my attitude, snorted and shook his head. ¡°You really are the dumbest son of a bitch on the planet, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    I fought the urge to lift my weapon again. This had the feel of something that was going to take an ugly turn soon, but I didn¡¯t want to be responsible for making it happen any quicker than it would have naturally.


    ¡°Did you come here to insult me?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t come here to kill me, your blockheaded friend made sure I knew that much.¡±


    Pony-boy looked unimpressed. With the threat of my death off the table, the worst they could do was rough me up. Granted, that was going to suck a lot more than usual given the circumstances, but when you stop fearing death, the worst-case scenario usually looks a lot sunnier.


    ¡°Death is sometimes a gift.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m big on re-gifting,¡± I parried.


    ¡°We came to deliver a message,¡± he said, not batting a lash at what I thought had been a very clever comeback. Ah well, I wasn¡¯t going to dazzle everyone with my humor.


    ¡°You needed six guys to bring me a message? Must be a complicated one.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Missed my sarcasm again. ¡°It¡¯s quite simple. She wants you to know your time has come to an end.¡±


    He was more right than he could imagine.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Did each one of you need to remember one word?¡± Holden asked. ¡°Imagine how embarrassing it would have been if you¡¯d mixed up the order. Time to come.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, but in my hand the gun was shaking slightly. If anyone alive would go the distance to kill me, it was my mother. I¡¯d made plenty of enemies in my life, but none had hated me since the moment of my birth. She blamed me for every ounce of her unhappiness, and now I was worried.


    If I wasn¡¯t careful, she could do it this time.


    I was more afraid of the invisible threat of my mother than I was of the thugs she¡¯d sent to deliver it.


    ¡°Noted.¡±


    The three wolves I didn¡¯t know shared uneasy glances, as if wondering if that was it. Hank licked his lips and edged in front of Pony-boy. ¡°There¡¯s one more thing.¡±


    Pony-boy¡¯s face went pale, and he looked as if he was about to say something. He went so far as to take Hank¡¯s arm, but the sinewy redneck werewolf jerked away and with two quick, long-strided steps he ran at me.


    My senses weren¡¯t at their normal level, and it took a second for me to recognize that Hank had taken to the air. At first I thought Pony-boy might have a chance to stop him, but Hank was out of his reach and halfway to me before I understood what was actually happening. Desmond wasn¡¯t as slow. He stepped in front of me, blocking Hank¡¯s assault, and threw him onto the ground where he hit the concrete with a meaty smack.


    There was a dead-silent pause where everyone stared at the tableau of Desmond standing over Hank, neither man moving, and none of us daring to breathe. Hank had attacked me, but Desmond had created the first real violent act by defending me.


    Maybe we could call it a draw?


    The linebacker genius behind Pony-boy didn¡¯t seem to think so. He let out a roar and shoved past their fearless leader, his arm cocked back and already mid-swing by the time he¡¯d crossed the distance between his group and Desmond. This time my wolf didn¡¯t see the strike coming, he was so engrossed in the figure at his feet.


    The punch cracked Desmond across the cheek with enough force to snap his head to the side, and even with my limited human senses, I could hear the bones grinding. Blood flew from his mouth and painted the sidewalk in red droplets.


    My heart seized, throbbing with a fast, panicked rhythm.


    So much for peacefully dissolving things.


    The fight was on.


    Chapter Forty


    The first hit took me by complete surprise.


    I should have been expecting it. With nine people all surging together and fists flying, the punch was inevitable. When a balled fist smashed into my sternum, though, it didn¡¯t matter that I should have seen it coming, because I didn¡¯t. And when pain exploded over my flesh and rattled my bones, knocking the air out of my lungs and doubling me over, I learned something.

 Page 39

    Being human was a fragile, painful existence.


    I dropped to one knee, keeping my gun tight to my hip. Each attempt to breathe was met with fiery resistance, and tears welled in my eyes. I¡¯d been in worse pain before, but it felt different now. The punch wasn¡¯t as bad as being shot or run through with a sword¡ªboth things I¡¯d experienced firsthand¡ªbut it was worse in its own way. The agony of the punch robbed me of my basic functions and practically crippled me.


    No one single blow had made me feel so helpless before.


    Holden was at my side, having made his way through the throng in short order. Using my elbow as leverage, he dragged me to my feet and stood between me and the flying punches and overwhelming testosterone. Catching my breath took longer than I wanted it to as I rubbed the red spot on my chest that felt hot to the touch.


    ¡°He barely got you,¡± Holden observed.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    His brows met in a disapproving V over the bridge of his nose. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with you.¡±


    Just this morning I¡¯d been on cloud nine, thinking about how right this whole situation was. Now that I¡¯d literally been punched by the gruff reality of my life, I was grudgingly ready to admit maybe this was wrong. Because goddamn that fist had hurt.


    ¡°I can¡¯t talk about it now.¡±


    ¡°Fine. But does it keep you from knowing how to use that?¡± He pointed to my gun.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then use it.¡± With his ominous instruction given, he melted back into the ruckus to help Desmond. Their unlikely alliance might have kept my attention at a different time, but he had yanked me back into my right mind. I had a gun, and there were enemies within firing distance begging to take home a souvenir of this fight.


    They claimed they hadn¡¯t come to kill me, so I would go against my better judgment and wouldn¡¯t shoot to kill. But it didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t fire off a few rounds to gravely injure. As long as I didn¡¯t hit anyone on my side of the skirmish.


    With my Spidey senses out of commission, I wasn¡¯t sure I could properly assess where my boys would be at any given moment in the fight. Usually I could track someone and either aim to shoot them, or keep my bullets out of their way. Tonight I might as well have been shooting with a blindfold on and earplugs.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± I grumbled. Raising my gun, which was already locked and loaded, I aimed at the nearest jostling kneecap and fired. A wolf screamed in agony, and I was grateful not to recognize the voice. When one of my mother¡¯s pack crumpled to the ground, I was momentarily proud of myself for my good aim.


    Pride faded quickly when I realized by taking down one of the men, I¡¯d managed to draw all the attention of the fight back onto myself. Desmond launched himself at one of the men closest to him, while Holden struggled to fend off two at the same time. Just my luck too because Hank had gotten a second wind.


    His face was mangled from where Desmond had thrown him against the pavement, but the injury had done nothing to deaden the hate in his eyes. If anything, being caked in dried blood with a good section of his cheek rubbed raw had fueled his rage towards me. His lip pulled back in a silent snarl as he edged closer, cracking his neck loudly when he tilted his head from side to side. I cringed at the sound of his popping joints. I¡¯d hated the noise when I had superhuman hearing, and having average senses had done nothing to minimize my loathing for it.


    If he cracked his knuckles next, I was going to shoot him in the head.


    ¡°You made a fool of me once, girlie.¡±


    I¡¯d laid him flat on his ass with a savage right hook. If getting beaten up by a girl¡ªeven a girl who was a werewolf queen¡ªwas his way of measuring foolishness, then yes I certainly had made a fool out of him.


    I had a different opinion about what made him look bad though. ¡°Me? I think being a racist twat who thinks it¡¯s still cool to wear wife-beaters is what makes you look stupid.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need Desmond around to say it. The voice in the back of my head said, Oh my God, Secret¡­ Shut up.


    Maybe the voice had a point.


    I took three steps backwards and staggered against the sidewalk but managed to keep my footing. He edged closer, and my common sense saw fit to remind me I had a perfectly good, almost fully loaded weapon in my hand.


    Lifting the gun, I made my seriousness known by aiming it at his throat.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if you live or die,¡± I told him honestly. ¡°But this doesn¡¯t have to end with me killing you. Don¡¯t come any closer.¡±


    Hank stopped walking but didn¡¯t appear prepared to back down. Instead he regarded me with an unusual patience for a man who¡¯d seemed ready to kill me a second earlier. I didn¡¯t trust the sudden shift for one minute.


    ¡°I ain¡¯t allowed to kill you,¡± he said.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have been able to anyway.¡±


    He sniffed and rubbed his nose on the heel of his palm. I made a mental note to avoid taking a hit from that hand. ¡°You think you¡¯re pretty tough.¡±


    I had once. Instead of voicing this, I shrugged.


    Hank mirrored my shrug and gave me a coy, creepy grin. ¡°You¡¯re a tough girl, yeah? Wonder how much a tough girl can bleed before she dies.¡±


    The bruise on my sternum flared at his words, reminding me how much extra pain hurt in my new condition.


    I got up onto the sidewalk so my height nearly equaled Hank¡¯s and adjusted the angle of the gun accordingly. One of the first rules of weapon handling is to not point a gun unless you¡¯re planning to fire it. If Hank took one step closer, I was prepared to go the extra mile and give him a street tracheotomy.


    ¡°Hank, you don¡¯t want to do something stupid.¡± Of course he did. The guy was a fucking dumbass. His entire life hinged around doing moronic shit. ¡°If you think Callum will¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fuck Callum,¡± he snapped. ¡°Do you think I care what that asshole thinks?¡±


    The grip of my gun felt cold against my palm. ¡°You should.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± He stepped closer, and my certainty over shooting him wavered. I wish I hadn¡¯t already reloaded the gun after firing, so I could give him a meaningful warning sound. Instead I jabbed the weapon into the air to remind him of its presence, like trying to say, I brought a gun to this werewolf fight.


    ¡°He¡¯s already going to be pissed about you abandoning the pack.¡± It didn¡¯t matter that Hank was a useless pack member and had been outwardly racist towards one of his pack mates. Callum didn¡¯t have to like the guy to want respect from him. There was no greater act of disrespect than abandoning your king. ¡°But how do you think he¡¯ll respond if he knows you went out of your way to hurt a member of his family?¡±


    Keep talking. One of the boys will get free in time¡­just keep talking.


    ¡°You think he cares about you?¡± Hank scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re deluded. You know he called on your king, knowing it was your wedding? He did that on purpose.¡±


    I¡¯d spent many a night wondering about that. I¡¯d tried long and hard to understand why Callum would call that meeting, and more so why Lucas had gone. At the time I thought I¡¯d been betrayed by them both, but now I wasn¡¯t sure. Callum had made it clear he didn¡¯t approve of my marrying Lucas from the get-go. I thought we¡¯d passed all his tests when I agreed to the wolf binding ceremony, but clearly Callum hadn¡¯t accepted Lucas¡¯s commitment to me.


    And he¡¯d been right to question it.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I said, though I didn¡¯t think I managed to sound convincing.


    ¡°Guess we¡¯ll find out how much he cares.¡±


    Instinct told me to duck, and I went with my gut. I dropped to the ground and covered my head, protecting most of myself when Hank collided with me. Problem was it gave him the right angle to knock me down flat with him on top of me. If I¡¯d been on top, I might have been able to roll away and make a run for it, or at least get an easy shot off.


    With Hank on top I was pinned between his legs, my gun trapped under his knee while he whaled on me. I¡¯d been in fights before, and I¡¯d taken hits before, but nothing quite like this. The first punch landed on my left cheek, grinding my skull across the pavement and making my whole head ring like a church bell.


    Just when I thought I might come back from the pain, he drove a punch to my right cheek. My eyes shut instinctively, blinking away tears. I felt certain if he hit me again something would burst, my eye would pop or my nose. But when he did hit me again everything remained intact. There was fresh new agony, spreading like ants under my skin, making unseen parts of me burn and tingle, but I didn¡¯t die. I kept taking it.


    I gasped, and the mere act of taking a breath made my lips crack. Blood was pooling over my face, a hot liquid presence trying to sneak into my eyes and blind me.


    Fight back.


    I twisted, struggling under the weight of him. Yes, he was a werewolf, but he was also a small man. And sure, my superstrength was gone, but I¡¯d been trained in hand-to-hand combat by a human. Keaty would have seen this and been appalled.


    If strength fails, rely on skill. Now it was his voice in my head, calm and even.


    Skill. I didn¡¯t feel too skillful right then, but I tried to shut out the pain. Every inch of my face felt broken. What would Keaty do? It took a moment of struggling to block out the ringing in my ears, but once I had, I knew the answer.


    I kneed Hank hard in the back. Ideally I would have gone for the groin, but since he was straddling my chest I didn¡¯t have the appropriate angle to hit him. He pitched forward, stopping his assault to brace himself on both hands. I opened my eyes once he stopped hitting me and watched him come closer. When he was in the right position, I jerked upwards and slammed my face into his.


    I was already in pain, so the new explosion of searing white-hot agony barely registered. He¡¯d smashed my damn face up badly enough, one more bruise wasn¡¯t going to matter much.


    Hank grabbed his own head and fell off me, giving me a chance to scramble to my feet. That was the first rule of street fighting¡ªstay off the ground. If you couldn¡¯t stay off the ground, you had to find a way to get back up as fast as possible. Once I was at a good angle, I did kick Hank in the junk. It wasn¡¯t the best move from a fighting standpoint, but I was mad. I kicked him once, twice, and by the third time he¡¯d curled himself into a ball and was making a pathetic noise.

 Page 40

    So I kicked him again.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see how much you can bleed before you die,¡± I wheezed, my voice hardly over a whisper but still projecting the anger I felt. My throat screamed in protest as I spoke.


    I kicked him twice more before remembering there was a gun in my hand. When I rolled him onto his back, I made sure he was looking at me so he could see the weapon.


    ¡°You fucked with the wrong goddamn princess today.¡±


    I raised the gun to fire, but a strong hand on my arm stopped me. Desmond lowered my arm for me and pulled me away from Hank, who watched with wide-eyed wonderment, still curled into a fetal ball.


    ¡°Enough,¡± Desmond whispered.


    ¡°I want to kill him.¡±


    He turned me to face him, and when he saw me, his expression changed. Anger, sadness and fear ebbed and flowed over him, and given the twitch in the corner of his eye I half-expected him to take my gun from me and kill Hank himself. I must have looked as good as I felt.


    ¡°No one dies tonight,¡± he said.


    Delicate fingers smoothed my hair away from my face, and when I winced, he did too. ¡°Let me kill him.¡±


    Desmond shook his head. ¡°We can¡¯t give Mercy permission to retaliate.¡±


    God, he was right. One dead werewolf, even a sack of shit like Hank, would be all Mercy needed to lash out against my people. Against Lucas¡¯s pack, or my human friends. I imagined her sending a pack like this to Mercedes¡¯s door, attacking her and her boyfriend Owen. I pictured Detective Tyler Nowakowski being hunted down in the streets and shredded because he knew me. Nolan and Shane, both tough guys but both human¡ªthey would become targets.


    I saw a knock on my grandmere¡¯s door in the night, and knew perfectly well Mercy was wicked enough to stoop to those levels.


    Desmond must have seen resignation in my face, because he pulled me farther away from Hank, and I didn¡¯t protest. He took me to Holden, who was watching a writhing group of werewolves peel themselves off the concrete, and said, ¡°Watch her for a second.¡±


    Holden¡ªtypically a master of hiding any emotion other than annoyance¡ªtook one look at me and his face fell. ¡°Holy shit, Secret.¡±


    ¡°You should see the other guy,¡± I tried to joke.


    Holden turned his face from me and watched Desmond go back across the street. My werewolf dragged Hank off the ground and into a slouched stand. At first I thought he was helping him to his feet so Hank could run away. Then Desmond hit him. He hit the scrawny wolf so hard when Hank fell back on his ass, he spit a tooth out into the gutter.


    Once again Desmond yanked Hank up, and again he hit him.


    The third time, I wanted to tell him to stop, because the rage he was displaying could only get worse, and he¡¯d just told me I couldn¡¯t kill anyone. This time, though, he didn¡¯t punch Hank. Desmond got two fistfuls of the other man¡¯s shirt and lifted him clean off the ground.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have touched her,¡± Desmond growled, loud enough I could hear it from across the street. ¡°And if you ever go near her again, I will kill you.¡± There was no flowery language, no subtle violent threats. Just a clean-cut promise of death.


    Desmond hurled Hank into the wall of a nearby building hard enough the brick cracked.


    When he returned to us, both Holden and I were silent. Desmond grabbed me, trying to be gentle, but there was a neediness in his touch making him rough. He pulled me into him and wrapped me in a hug that was equal parts that of a lover and that of a protective parent. I let him hold me because it felt good to be protected, and right then I needed it. The werewolves collected themselves, and I could hear them running away.


    I wanted to cry, but it hurt too badly.


    Holden chimed in after a long, long while, and the seriousness of his voice gave me renewed chills. ¡°Why isn¡¯t she healing?¡±


    Chapter Forty-One


    Blood was disgusting.


    I tried to wrench my head away when Holden stuffed his wrist into my mouth, but he used his free hand to keep me from moving. ¡°You need it. Stop fighting me.¡±


    He was right, of course. I¡¯d seen my face when we got back to the apartment, and I looked like I¡¯d been in a head-on collision after getting the shit kicked out of me by six big dudes. It was bad, maybe even worse to see than it felt. Part of that could have been I wasn¡¯t used to seeing bruises on myself, let alone welts, cuts and huge goose-egg bumps on my forehead.


    Desmond was holding a bag of frozen peas¡ªa holdover from his time living with me¡ªto my most swollen cheek. I¡¯d long wanted these two men to get along, but this wasn¡¯t how I¡¯d pictured it going. Not that I¡¯d imagined it as some sexy three-way¡ªI swear I hadn¡¯t¡ªbut I also hadn¡¯t thought about them playing mutual nursemaids to me.


    Okay, maybe sexy nursemaids.


    I grimaced when Holden¡¯s blood touched my tongue. My whole life I¡¯d survived on the stuff and even loved the taste of it, but now that I was human, it felt thick in my mouth and the copper flavor was so overwhelming I gagged.


    ¡°Jesus Christ, Secret, you¡¯ve had it before.¡±


    The acknowledgment of our sharing blood made me think about our night together in Aubrey¡¯s palace and the way Holden had bitten me. The orgasm that had followed. My cheeks flushed, and I couldn¡¯t meet his gaze, though he was mere inches away and my mouth was latched against his skin. I was far too aware of Desmond¡¯s presence at my side.


    Awkward.


    ¡°Tell me again what happened,¡± Holden said to Desmond. The vampire made sure he held my head in place so I couldn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°And you keep drinking.¡±


    I swallowed obediently, but I wasn¡¯t happy about it.


    Desmond adjusted the frozen peas higher on my forehead, accounting for a huge knotty lump blooming by my temple. ¡°She¡¯s human,¡± he said, although we¡¯d already covered that on the way home.


    ¡°Which I can smell for myself. How did it happen?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯d like to know. I wasn¡¯t in the best position to see what was going on, but you were. We think the fairy king took her¡­gifts.¡±


    ¡°How is that possible?¡±


    I gave Holden a loaded stare. Perhaps he wasn¡¯t the best person to question what the fairy king could and couldn¡¯t manipulate, considering how he¡¯d played us like chess pieces.


    Sexy chess pieces.


    I blushed again, not used to how easily my cheeks flared red now.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Desmond admitted.


    ¡°But she¡¯s human.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s human.¡±


    Holden, who had previously been staring at my face, let his gaze draw down my cheek and to my neck. That single glance was more intimate than anything he could have done with his hands and brought visceral memories of the things he had done to me with his hands. And mouth. And¡­


    I squirmed uncomfortably and tried to push his arm away.


    ¡°No. You still look like you were run over by a bus full of domestic-abuse arrestees. You¡¯re going to keep drinking until I can see both your eyes again.¡±


    I held up my hand and demonstrated how I could still move my fingers by lifting the middle one.


    ¡°Charming,¡± Holden replied.


    ¡°Delacourte told her he was going to take her greatest weapon,¡± Desmond continued. ¡°That¡¯s the wording she said he used.¡±


    ¡°And you agreed?¡± Holden said to me, giving his head a shake. ¡°Why would you agree to that?¡±


    This time I forced him away, licking blood from my lips. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, do you remember my other option? He was going to make me leave one of you behind. Are you suggesting I should feel bad I didn¡¯t abandon you to be some fairy lord¡¯s bitch?¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s to say you would have left me?¡± When his stare lasted too long, I had to look away.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t leaving anyone. I did what I had to do.¡±


    ¡°By letting a fairy ask for something as vague as ¡®your greatest weapon¡¯?¡±


    ¡°I thought he meant my sword. The fae have been making such a big deal about it. And it¡¯s¡­special. I assumed it was what he wanted.¡±


    Holden sighed and shoved his wrist back in my mouth. ¡°Are we going with the notion this is a permanent change?¡± This was said to Desmond, as though Holden was tired of listening to me.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say, but yes. That¡¯s what we¡¯re assuming.¡±


    ¡°She isn¡¯t safe.¡±


    Desmond bristled, visibly offended. ¡°I think I can take care¡ª¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Holden shook his head roughly and pulled his wrist out of my mouth when I was in the middle of another swallow, coating my chin in blood. I swore. ¡°If she¡¯s human, she¡¯s in more danger than just a sad little rogue pack. She¡¯s Tribunal. Her death means someone else replaces her. There are people in the vampire world who will see this as a perfect opportunity to challenge her.¡±


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I choked, wiping the dribble of blood off my face. ¡°Fuck.¡±


    How had I not thought of that? He was absolutely right. So many people wanted me out, and this was the opening they needed. I couldn¡¯t hand the position off to anyone else either, because the only way to take a Tribunal seat was to kill the person who held it.


    ¡°Still excited about your newfound humanity?¡± Holden asked.


    I wanted to punch him. I had been excited about it. There were so many things it meant I could do, and opened up a life I¡¯d only dreamed of having. The problem, though, was I¡¯d forgotten about the life I already had. A life where people would rejoice in seeing me dead and now had a golden opportunity to make it happen.


    ¡°This fucking sucks,¡± I said.


    ¡°I need to tell Sig.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Secret¡ª¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Listen to me,¡± he continued. ¡°I have to tell him. He¡¯s the one person who can keep you alive¡ªin whatever capacity¡ªand he will have my goddamn head if he finds out I knew about this and didn¡¯t tell him. And let¡¯s not kid ourselves, he will find out.¡±

 Page 41

    My pout was all the admission he needed.


    ¡°I¡¯m calling Sig.¡± He pulled out his phone. ¡°You¡¯re calling Brigit.¡±


    I raised both eyebrows. ¡°Brigit? Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you need someone to stay with you who has a hope in hell of protecting you against another vampire. And I trust her not to kill you.¡±


    If I¡¯d wanted to argue, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered because Holden was already dialing. Since I didn¡¯t get a chance to talk back, and there would be no point in arguing about it with Desmond, I got to my feet¡ªignoring the protests of my sore body¡ªand found my purse, rooting around until I retrieved my cell.


    Brigit¡¯s number was programmed into my speed dial, and I shuffled into the bathroom while her line rang.


    ¡°Hello!¡± came the cheerful answer when she picked up. I didn¡¯t know if she had caller ID or was always that happy when she answered the phone. Neither would have surprised me.


    ¡°Hey, Bri.¡± I sat on the edge of the tub, not ready to look at myself in the bathroom mirror yet.


    ¡°Secret. Omigod. Are you okay? What¡¯s happening? Did Shane talk to you? Nolan said he was trying to get a hold of¡ª¡±


    ¡°Calm down for a second.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Can you come over?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Yeah. Of course.¡±


    ¡°It might be for a while.¡±


    ¡°Sleepover?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Cool.¡±


    ¡°Bri, don¡¯t tell anyone you¡¯re coming, okay?¡±


    A pause. ¡°Is everything okay?¡±


    ¡°Things are a bit weird.¡±


    ¡°Did you kill Lucas?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ What?¡±


    ¡°Like, do I need to bring clothes I can get blood on? Or a shovel or something? I was watching Breaking Bad with Nolan, and you shouldn¡¯t try to dissolve him in the bathtub because that¡¯ll like, melt the tub or something. But it¡¯s gross, so don¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill Lucas.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Another beat. ¡°Why not?¡±


    I laughed now, and even though it hurt my jaw, it still felt good. ¡°Because then I¡¯d need to figure out what to do with the body. And people might actually miss him.¡±


    She snorted. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    Bless her not-beating heart. Every girl needed a friend like Brigit.


    ¡°Just come by, I¡¯ll explain when you get here.¡±


    ¡°Can I tell Nolan?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Secret?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Is everything okay?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I admitted. ¡°But it¡¯ll be better when you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said brightly. ¡°Is it the kind of bad where I need to bring booze?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the kind of bad where a few machine guns might be more handy.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Okay. I think Nolan has one.¡± And before I could tell her I was kidding, she hung up.


    Chapter Forty-Two


    Brigit had taken my pulse four times.


    After the second try I was convinced she just didn¡¯t know how to find it.


    ¡°You know, I had a pulse before this.¡±


    ¡°Did you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. The heartbeat isn¡¯t new.¡±


    She dropped her hand and looked a little crestfallen. ¡°Oh. Then¡­ I mean¡­ What¡¯s so special?¡±


    Holden had left at Sig¡¯s behest. I didn¡¯t know what they were planning or discussing, but apparently I didn¡¯t need to be part of it, even if it was about me. Desmond was sitting in the armchair, leaving me and Brigit on the loveseat. I gave him a sideways glance and didn¡¯t miss his amused expression.


    At least there was something funny to come out of this situation.


    ¡°I¡¯m human now,¡± I explained again.


    ¡°What were you before?¡±


    ¡°Half-vampire. Half-werewolf.¡±


    ¡°But you weren¡¯t human?¡±


    ¡°If I¡¯m one half each of two different things, it doesn¡¯t leave any room left over for being anything else.¡±


    ¡°You looked human. I mean, you looked like you do now. Only with less bruises.¡±


    It was taking awhile for Holden¡¯s blood to work its magic. I¡¯d already started to feel better, but vampire blood could only do so much. I wasn¡¯t actively bleeding anymore, and most of the major swelling had started to go down. By morning I¡¯d probably still look bad but less like I¡¯d wandered out of the emergency room a week too soon.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t human.¡±


    ¡°How do you know you are now?¡± She sat back, placing her hands in her lap and watching me expectantly. Her long blonde hair hung in straight curtains over her shoulders, pushed back at the crown with a glittery pink headband. Her shirt was a cute button-up number in cotton-candy color, but it worked on her. Pink always worked on Brigit. Rio was curled up behind her on the headrest, purring loudly, having come out of hiding shortly after Holden left.


    ¡°I can go out in the sun. I can eat stuff other than blood. I can¡¯t beat you up anymore.¡±


    Brigit smiled. ¡°So now would be a good time to challenge you to an arm-wrestling contest?¡±


    ¡°Now would be a good time for people to challenge me to anything. That¡¯s why you¡¯re here.¡± I explained Holden¡¯s theory to her and how dangerous it was for me to be around other vampires until we knew what was happening. Halfway through my explanation my gaze drifted back to Desmond, and he and I stared at each other while I spoke to Brigit.


    When I was finished, he was the one who spoke. ¡°We could leave,¡± he said.


    ¡°Could we?¡± I leaned back into the loveseat, and Rio¡¯s restless tail flicked me in the forehead. ¡°I mean it, Des, could we? Just up and make a break for it?¡±


    ¡°Why not? What are we staying for? Not for Lucas anymore.¡±


    ¡°What about the pack?¡± I watched him and saw the moment he understood what I meant. ¡°The pack is more than Lucas alone. It¡¯s your dad¡¯s pack, or it was. It¡¯s your brother¡¯s pack. It¡¯s your pack.¡±


    ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°We have responsibilities. Both of us.¡±


    Desmond got to his feet and started pacing the living room. ¡°Do they apply anymore, though? The pack was your responsibility when you were a wolf. The council was your responsibility when you were a vampire. Now you¡¯re¡­you¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nothing. Now I¡¯m nothing.¡±


    He crossed the room and crouched in front of me, taking my hands in his. ¡°You are not nothing.¡±


    Brigit sighed the way a dreamy romantic watching a good movie might.


    ¡°I¡¯m not special anymore.¡± I wasn¡¯t saying it to be melodramatic or mopey. The fact of the matter was I had become something utterly normal and average.


    He kissed my fingertips and stared up at me. ¡°What are you staying for?¡±


    ¡°If I leave, I put everyone here in danger.¡±


    ¡°People can take care of themselves. I¡¯m worried about you being in danger.¡± He was looking at my face, and I knew what he saw. Bumps and bruises. Tangible signs I wasn¡¯t unbreakable anymore.


    I shook my head and pulled one hand free so I could touch his slightly stubbled jaw. ¡°I love you. But we can¡¯t leave. Trouble has a way of finding me no matter where I go.¡± Understatement-of-the-year award goes to¡­


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s time you stop worrying about other people and start worrying about yourself.¡±


    ¡°He has a point,¡± Brigit chimed in. ¡°If you are human, what good are you? I mean, like, no offense of course. But you totally got your ass handed to you by a werewolf tonight.¡± She sneered at the word werewolf before casting a glance to Desmond. ¡°No offense.¡±


    ¡°None taken?¡± he replied uncertainly.


    ¡°I¡¯m not useless,¡± I argued. ¡°I have training. I can still fight. Only now I need to find a new way to do it. Nolan isn¡¯t useless,¡± I said to Brigit. ¡°Shane isn¡¯t useless. And they¡¯re humans.¡±


    ¡°But they grew up learning how to fight,¡± Desmond said.


    ¡°And they know how to get beaten up,¡± Brigit added.


    ¡°I think I know how to get beaten up.¡± I pointed to my matching set of black eyes.


    ¡°I mean they¡¯re used to it.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m not?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never been beaten down so hard you couldn¡¯t get back up again,¡± Desmond answered for her. ¡°You¡¯ve never had to wonder if you¡¯d come out of a fistfight alive. And I¡¯ve never been as worried for you before as I was tonight.¡±


    That was saying something considering how many close calls with my life Desmond had seen me through.


    ¡°I¡¯m not running,¡± I said flatly.


    Desmond sat back on the coffee table, and Brigit looked torn between melancholy and joy. Happy to see me stay, I guessed, but sad I wouldn¡¯t do my best to protect my own life. After what had happened with my mother¡¯s pack tonight, there was no way I could run. Imagining what they might do to my friends to get to me had left me feeling cold and terrified. If I could keep them safe by staying around and keeping her attention focused on me, then I would do it.


    ¡°If you won¡¯t run, you have to stay here,¡± Desmond said. ¡°At least until we can figure out what to do.¡± The last sentence hung in the air like an unintentional threat.


    What was there to do?


    I could think of three options, and none of them were ideal. One, I could have a late-in-life Awakening and become a full-blooded werewolf. I definitely had the DNA for it thanks to my mother, and we¡¯d seen I was able to turn. If I were bitten now, it would mean I could maintain my position within the pack and no longer have to worry about how my vampire blood factored.


    On the topic of vampires, there was option number two. Let myself be bitten and become a real vampire. Heartbeat gone, pulse gone, but I would belong on the Tribunal. Juan Carlos could stop trying to unearth my secrets, and the council would have no reason to question my authority. No pulse, no problems.

 Page 42

    And last but not least was option three. Staying human.


    For my whole damned life I had straddled an uneasy line between two worlds without feeling like I¡¯d belonged to either of them. I was a vampire and a werewolf, but I didn¡¯t fit with either culture. I¡¯d dreamed often of excommunicating myself from the supernatural drama and having a normal life. Now I was within spitting distance of living my dream, only to realize I had no way to make it possible.


    But giving up now was like being in the middle of a marathon and someone telling you to stop because there was a chance you might be tripped before the finish line. Except in my case, instead of getting tripped I¡¯d probably have my throat ripped out either by a social-climbing vampire or my own mother.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just sit here. There¡¯s something I have to do.¡±


    ¡°What could possibly be so important you need to do it right now?¡± Desmond asked.


    ¡°Lucas asked¡ª¡±


    ¡°Secret.¡± His tone had gone flat, and a cold, almost dead quality filled his eyes. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not for him, it¡¯s Kellen.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if he asked you to go save African orphans. You¡¯re not doing a favor for Lucas right now. There¡¯s no fucking way.¡±


    ¡°I need to check on Kellen.¡±


    Desmond rifled through his pocket, then handed me a cellphone. ¡°Call her.¡±


    ¡°I need to see her,¡± I insisted. ¡°Lucas says she¡¯s not leaving her apartment and she¡¯s been weird since we got back. I need to know she¡¯s okay. I¡¯m worried something happened to her while she was away.¡±


    ¡°Something like?¡±


    ¡°Like getting raped and impregnated by a fairy,¡± I said harshly.


    My words got the point across because Desmond was quiet and looked abashed for fighting with me over it.


    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll go.¡± He waited and watched me. If I knew Desmond¡ªand myself¡ªhe was waiting for me to insist I wanted to go alone. I might have, in the past, but I was stubborn, not stupid. I had no intention of risking my life to see Kellen.


    ¡°Can we take your car?¡± I asked. ¡°Mine might be under observation. People might not know what happened, but Mercy is obviously gunning for me. I wouldn¡¯t put anything past her.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s¡­well, that¡¯s actually what I was going to suggest.¡± He gave a small smile. ¡°Great minds, I guess.¡±


    ¡°We both want me to live. That¡¯s a start.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a wig?¡± Brigit asked, interrupting my moment with Desmond.


    ¡°A wig?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we can make a disguise for you. Some sunglasses, a wig.¡±


    Desmond and I both stared at her. ¡°I don¡¯t think I need a disguise, Bri.¡±


    She blew a raspberry at me, her bangs tufting out with her forced breath. ¡°You¡¯re no fun.¡±


    Chapter Forty-Three


    Kellen had barricaded herself into her apartment.


    ¡°Kel¡­hon, can you open the door?¡± I didn¡¯t want to make Desmond break it down unless we had no other choice, but at the moment it didn¡¯t seem like she was leaving us one.


    Brigit said she could hear crying on the other side, so we knew Kellen was in there, but why she wasn¡¯t opening up was another story. I worried barging in would upset her more, especially if she¡¯d been hurt, but I didn¡¯t want to wait too long in case she was upset enough to do something drastic to herself.


    Kellen had never struck me as the type to commit suicide or hurt herself, but sometimes people did unexpected things when they were pushed to the breaking point.


    ¡°Kellen, please. We¡¯re here to help.¡±


    ¡°Go away,¡± came the reply.


    Well, at least she was talking to us.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t leaving until you open the door,¡± Desmond said. ¡°Come on.¡± After a silence that didn¡¯t sound promising, his voice dropped into a more serious¡ªalmost mean¡ªregister. ¡°Kellen, open the door or I will break it down.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to admit it, but hearing the tone of command in his voice made me think dirty, nasty things. Things that didn¡¯t mesh well with what we were trying to accomplish here. I forced the ideas out of my mind and refocused my attention on the door.


    After some dramatic foot stomping, the locks rattled and the door popped open. My first reaction was to ask the human-raccoon hybrid standing in the frame what it had done with my friend. Then I slowly processed that the mascara-smeared creature clutching a bottle of Mo?t was, unfortunately, Kellen Rain.


    She didn¡¯t look like someone who had walked out of a living hell, though. She looked like¡­well, exactly like I had when I¡¯d been dumped. Like a crushed teenage girl who caught her football-star boyfriend making out with a cheerleader under the bleachers.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on with you?¡± I asked, momentarily forgetting I was here to be supportive of her.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on with me?¡± she parroted, swinging the bottle outwards at us and losing her balance. Desmond grabbed her by the armpits and kept her on both feet while she tried to get upright again. ¡°What¡¯s going on with you?¡± Her words were slurred, which told me it probably wasn¡¯t her first bottle for the night.


    ¡°We¡¯re here because we¡¯re worried about you.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off.¡± She jerked free of Desmond¡¯s grip and teetered back into the apartment. ¡°I don¡¯t want your¡­worry, or pity, or fucking whatever.¡±


    She nearly tripped over a glass end table but managed to sidestep it at the last moment, and wove her way towards the living room. Brigit and I exchanged wary glances, but Desmond followed right behind Kellen, shadowing her steps while she charged through her apartment.


    ¡°Kel, can you talk to us?¡± he asked.


    ¡°So you can ruin something else for me?¡±


    Ruin something? I was so shocked by her words I stopped hanging around the door and tracked the pair of them into the kitchen. Even though Kellen¡¯s current bottle of champagne still had liquid in it, she was rifling through the fridge for another. I couldn¡¯t fault her on that since I¡¯d double fisted whiskey last time I tried to drink my problems away.


    I also knew if she was drinking this much fermented alcohol, she was in for a doozy of a headache tomorrow.


    ¡°Maybe you should take a break from the¡ª¡±


    Kellen didn¡¯t let me finish my sentence. ¡°Did I tell you to lay off the booze when Lucas shafted you? No. Did I tell you to stop being a mopey, whiney bitch when you were dumped? No. Because I¡¯m your friend.¡± She was waving the bottle at me again, and I was genuinely worried she might clobber me in the face with it.


    ¡°What is she talking about?¡± Brigit asked, tapping me on the shoulder. ¡°I thought you rescued her.¡±


    ¡°We did rescue her.¡±


    ¡°Rescue me?¡± She started laughing and buried her head back inside the fridge, finally finding the bottle she was after and hauling it out. ¡°Yeah, thanks. You rescued me from being happy.¡±


    Desmond gave me a worried look, wearing his uncertainty on his face. He wouldn¡¯t remember anything that had happened, including seeing how loopy and out of it Kellen had been when we¡¯d seen her with Brokk.


    ¡°You were under some sort of spell.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the spell of being in love.¡± She worked the cork out of the new champagne bottle. It popped free and flew up into the ceiling, smashing a light bulb.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t love. The fae can be very convincing, but he was misleading you into thinking you loved him so he could¡ª¡±


    ¡°Secret, with all due respect, what the fuck do you know about love?¡±


    I took a step back, feeling like I¡¯d been punched in the gut. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Kellen, why don¡¯t we go into the other room?¡± Desmond took her by the elbow and relieved her of one of the bottles in her hands.


    ¡°Don¡¯t protect her,¡± Kellen insisted. ¡°She doesn¡¯t deserve your protection. She ruined my happiness, she¡¯ll ruin yours too.¡± Then she met my eyes and gave me a cold smile. ¡°Oh wait. She already has.¡±


    I must not hit my friend, I told myself. Although if I did it now, I could do it without causing any permanent damage. My palm itched with the desire to smack her, but I reminded myself she was drunk and probably didn¡¯t mean what she was saying.


    Blessedly, my phone chose that moment to ring and distract me from whatever scathing retort was bound to come out of my mouth. I imagined the words slut and train wreck would have been mentioned though, so it was for the best I didn¡¯t say anything.


    Keaty¡¯s number popped up on my screen, and I felt a pang of guilt. I hadn¡¯t told him about my predicament yet, when he should have been my first call. My hand was shaking as I hit the call answer button. Maybe it was paranoia, but I suspected Keaty would know something was up the moment he heard my voice.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°I hope you had a lovely vacation.¡± For someone who didn¡¯t tend to express a lot of emotion in his words, Keaty had definitely nailed sarcasm.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a vacation, I was¡ª¡±


    ¡°I know perfectly well where you were. After a furious werewolf king showed up at my office a week ago demanding to know where I was hiding you, I did my job¡­you know, the investigative work we do here.¡±


    Lucas, it seemed, was hell-bent on ruining every aspect of my life.


    ¡°If you know where I was, you should know time isn¡¯t the same there. I didn¡¯t plan to be gone so long.¡±


    ¡°No, but did you also plan to ignore your phone when you did come home?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t plan to.¡±


    ¡°I hope you have a phenomenal excuse for not returning the half-dozen messages I¡¯ve left you.¡± For Keaty, any number higher than one should be considered a crazy amount of calls. I hadn¡¯t checked my messages, but if he¡¯d actually left six, he¡¯d either been worried or pissed off. Probably both, but he¡¯d only admit to the latter.

 Page 43

    ¡°I do, actually.¡± One hell of an excuse, a better one than he was likely expecting.


    ¡°And I¡¯m sure it¡¯s dazzling. But let me ask you this¡ªwhile you were off gallivanting in the palace of a fairy king, did you take a moment to ask him why one of his people is killing humans?¡±


    ¡°As a matter of fact¡ª¡± Wait, had he said humans, as in plural? ¡°Humans?¡±


    ¡°Ah, you can listen.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s been another murder. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to help solve one for a change?¡±


    Chapter Forty-Four


    ¡°Over my dead body,¡± Desmond said. He was standing in front of Kellen¡¯s front door, physically blocking my exit.


    ¡°No, it¡¯ll be over someone else¡¯s,¡± I replied. ¡°Some other newly dead teenager whose only mistake in life was signing up for a shitty minimum-wage job.¡±


    His mouth formed a tight line, and he looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. ¡°I don¡¯t care. You¡¯re not going.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going. Whether or not you come with me is the question. I can take Brigit and be safe with her and Keaty. If this bothers you, you¡¯re welcome to stay here and hang out with the bitchy drunk.¡±


    ¡°I heard that,¡± Kellen cut in. Then she started mumbling something about who the real bitch was. Now that I knew she wasn¡¯t dead or on the verge of slitting her wrists, I had a lot less motivation to sit around holding her hand. Especially if she was going to spend the whole night insulting me and suggesting I¡¯d ruined Desmond¡¯s life.


    I had figured Kellen for a fun drunk. She was more of a morose, shitty drunk.


    There was obviously something going on with her, and I wanted to get to the root of her claims about how she was supposedly in love with the fairy who¡¯d kidnapped her. If she was under a spell, we needed to do something to snap her out of it. We also needed to make sure she didn¡¯t go back to the fae club and do something stupid, like convince Gia she should be allowed back into Aubrey¡¯s realm.


    I needed to help Keaty with the murder investigation, but someone had to stick around and ensure Kellen didn¡¯t make a break for it. There was no way in hell Desmond would volunteer to stay, and if I left Brigit behind, Holden would have my head. I thought about risking the vampire¡¯s wrath and asking my ward to hang out with Kellen but changed my mind quickly. I was in legitimate danger, and I needed to play it smart. Two supernatural beasties watching my back was better than one.


    Grumbling, I picked up my cell again and paged through the contacts until I found the right number. After a few rings a bored male voice said, ¡°Yup?¡±


    ¡°Jackson, it¡¯s Secret.¡± The line was filled with frantic rustling and the sound of fast-food wrappers crinkling. ¡°You know I can¡¯t actually see you, right? You don¡¯t need to clean.¡±


    ¡°Oh, haha, yeah, I guess that¡¯s true.¡± The noise stopped. ¡°What can I do you for?¡±


    I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Maybe it was just me, but I didn¡¯t think one of my youngest pack members should be so casual in his address. Especially not one who had been welcomed into Lucas¡¯s pack after he participated in a plot against Lucas¡¯s leadership. Jackson had also participated in kidnapping me, so to say I thought he should show more respect was an understatement. But the pack was small and our relationships with each other tended to be more friendly than formal. For now I was willing to let the oversight slide. Besides, right now I wasn¡¯t even half werewolf.


    ¡°I need you to do me a favor.¡±


    ¡°Sure?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about Kellen.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, what about her?¡± He sounded far too excited by the mention of Kellen¡¯s name. I¡¯d noticed he seemed to have an attachment to her in the past, which was why I¡¯d chosen him to call. If he had a little crush on her, he¡¯d be more likely to pay attention to her. And if she chose to drunkenly bone the handsome young werewolf and get her fairy ¡°lover¡± out of her head¡­who was I to question it?


    ¡°I need you to come to her apartment and just¡­sit with her.¡±


    ¡°Sit with her?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s drunk.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Was it me or did he sound a bit happy about that?


    ¡°And sad.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°I want to make sure she¡¯s all right. I need someone to stay with her while she sobers up, someone who can make sure she doesn¡¯t do anything stupid and doesn¡¯t leave the building.¡±


    ¡°You want me to baby-sit.¡±


    I gnawed on my lip. If I said yes, was he less likely to agree to the job? Then it occurred to me he didn¡¯t need to agree to anything. ¡°Jackson, this isn¡¯t a request.¡± I hated using orders, but sometimes having the option was nice. Made it difficult for people to argue with me if I wanted to have the last word.


    Of course some people, like Holden, argued anyway, even when I outranked them. Thankfully Jackson wasn¡¯t as ballsy as Holden. ¡°I understand.¡± His tone was formal, like he realized who I was finally and how poorly he¡¯d been behaving. ¡°Apologies, my Queen.¡±


    Ugh. ¡°No apologies necessary. You¡¯ll be doing me a great favor.¡± Unlike with the fae, I could easily give Jackson my thanks without him thinking I owed him anything. ¡°Please hurry over.¡± I was grateful Jackson had long since moved out of Lucas¡¯s upstate New York home and into a shared loft space in the city. If not, we¡¯d be waiting hours to have someone watch Kellen, and with each passing moment I could picture Keaty getting angrier.


    Just further proof a human could be as scary as any monster out there.


    I still had a stomach for death.


    Keaty and I stood on opposite sides of a metal gurney in the morgue, staring down at a teenaged girl who looked much too young to be dead. The last time I¡¯d been in a morgue, we¡¯d had to enthrall the guard¡ªthanks to Brigit¡¯s skill with vampire mind control¡ªand I had left stinking of death. This time, Keaty¡¯s connections had gotten us through the door, but that didn¡¯t make it any easier to see a dead kid.


    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± I asked quietly.


    ¡°Carly Montgomery.¡±


    The girl was untouched. Her skin¡ªwith the exception of the usual teenage blemishes¡ªshowed no signs of damage or struggle. If we hadn¡¯t known better, it would be easy to assume she¡¯d died of natural causes. She hadn¡¯t. Like Petey before her, something had literally sucked the life force out of her body, leaving her a sad, empty husk.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure you believe your Oracle? Even looking at this?¡± Keaty asked.


    ¡°Calliope doesn¡¯t feed off girls,¡± I informed him. ¡°And she also pointed out to me she isn¡¯t the only fairy in the world. It was just easy for us to accuse her because we know what she is.¡± I was ashamed with myself for believing Cal had been guilty of something like this. She might not have the same respect for human life as I did, but that didn¡¯t mean she was going to run around murdering teenagers. Especially if she could feed without them dying. She was immortal, and she could be cold, but she wasn¡¯t murderous.


    I zipped the bag higher to keep Carly¡¯s body decent. No sense in adding insult to injury by showing her chest off to strange men after her death.


    ¡°And did you find out anything useful in your jaunt to the fae world?¡± If Keaty didn¡¯t tone it down with the sarcasm, I was going to start thinking he¡¯d picked up a thing or two from spending too much time with me.


    ¡°Yeah. I found out fairies are assholes.¡± And no good at keeping promises. Aubrey told me no one else would die in my territory, yet I was looking at another kill.


    ¡°Helpful.¡±


    ¡°I also found out there¡¯s a second fairy gate in New York. One that doesn¡¯t go through Calliope.¡±


    ¡°Well, that is useful information. Where is the second gate?¡±


    ¡°At a Bath & Body Works in Harlem.¡±


    When Keaty didn¡¯t reply, I looked up from Carly¡¯s body to meet his astonished gaze. He said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it must be old age. I thought you said¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re really going to question the authenticity of that statement? I get blood in takeout baggies from a Starbucks. Let¡¯s assume the fae probably built these gates long before there were chain retailers parked on top of them.¡±


    ¡°Obviously.¡±


    ¡°I love Bath & Body Works,¡± Brigit said. ¡°They have a candle that smells like bread.¡±


    Keaty wasn¡¯t paying attention to her. I could tell his mind was hard at work processing the new knowledge and what it meant to his case. ¡°If we go on the theory the fairy committing these murders isn¡¯t living in our world full-time, this knowledge will be very useful,¡± he said.


    ¡°What are you basing your theory on?¡±


    ¡°The small number of deaths. And if it is a fairy and doesn¡¯t live in our world, it might explain why they think they can take human life.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit fairies can be pretty stupid when it comes to the sanctity of mortality, but I don¡¯t think we can give a serial-killing fairy a free pass because he was like, ¡®oops, my bad, I didn¡¯t know human beings didn¡¯t like to die!¡¯¡±


    Keaty shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not suggesting it¡¯s a good excuse, I¡¯m just not seeing a motive to these murders otherwise.¡±


    ¡°Does there need to be a motive?¡±


    ¡°I feel better when there is.¡±


    I zipped Carly¡¯s body bag all the way up, covering her pale face so I didn¡¯t keep looking at it and feeling guilty. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re going to like whatever motive you find here. Just because she was killed by a fairy and not a vampire doesn¡¯t mean the logic behind it was any more highbrow. The fairy was hungry, and she was food. The end.¡±


    ¡°I take offense,¡± Brigit interjected.


    ¡°How could you possibly take offense to that?¡± I had to ask.


    ¡°I feed on people all the time.¡± She ignored the hateful glower she got from Keaty. ¡°But I don¡¯t kill them.¡±

 Page 44

    ¡°You¡¯re a vampire. You¡¯re a killer by nature,¡± Keaty said, obviously not caring whether or not Brigit¡¯s feelings were hurt by the comment.


    If she was offended, it didn¡¯t show. She shrugged one shoulder and looked from Keaty and me to Desmond. ¡°Dogs are killers by nature, but people still keep them as pets. Wolves are killers by nature, but you don¡¯t hunt down werewolves.¡± She gave Desmond a small smile, which he returned. ¡°Of everyone in this room, you¡¯re more of a killer than us monsters combined,¡± she told Keaty.


    He was silent. The most badass bounty hunter and private investigator I¡¯d ever met had been schooled by a petite blonde vampire who thought eggplant was really made of eggs.


    Instead of replying, he hrmphed. In Keaty-speak that was as close as Brigit was going to get to an admission she¡¯d verbally whooped his butt. I was impressed, but at the same time felt the weight of her words. I was sure Keaty had killed many many people in his time, but so had I. And sometimes I had to wonder if they all deserved it.


    While Keaty stood around looking grim, I slid the gurney with Carly¡¯s body back into its storage cubby. I was getting uncomfortably cold in the room, but since I had yet to tell Keaty what had happened to me, I didn¡¯t want to give anything away by complaining about the chill.


    ¡°If you¡¯re right and the fairy doesn¡¯t live in our world, it might be an idea to monitor the gate. And we can check the delivery schedules to see where Petey and Carly had been sent in the area of that Bath & Body Works.¡± It was in everyone¡¯s best interests I steer our attention back to the topic at hand. We should be focused on who or what had killed these teenagers rather than who was the biggest, baddest killer in the room.


    ¡°I can keep an eye on the gate,¡± Keaty offered. ¡°Fae can move in the daytime, so we need to be able to watch it at all hours.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not a problem for¡ª¡±


    I shushed Brigit mid-sentence. ¡°Sounds like a great idea.¡± My phone started vibrating in my pocket, and I wished I¡¯d thought to abandon it in a garbage can somewhere along the way. So far I¡¯d been scolded by Lucas and Keaty. I was willing to bet whoever was calling me now wasn¡¯t going to improve my mood for the evening.


    I looked at my caller ID.


    Sig.


    ¡°Can this day get any worse?¡± I said aloud before I could stop myself.


    ¡°I find if the question needs to be asked, the answer is almost always yes,¡± Desmond answered, speaking for the first time since we¡¯d come into the room. I think seeing a naked, dead teenager made him uneasy. Now that I¡¯d put Carly¡¯s body away, he had relaxed slightly. As much as someone could relax in a morgue.


    I smiled grimly. ¡°Sorry, guys. Duty calls.¡±


    Chapter Forty-Five


    ¡°Do you know how much trouble you¡¯re in?¡±


    Sig was usually calm, taking his time with problems and presenting himself as the cool, collected Tribunal leader who never let anything get to him. The Sig yelling at me on the phone¡ªyes, another yelling phone call¡ªwas not the man I thought I knew. He¡¯d waited a whopping thirteen seconds from when I answered my cell to when he started laying into me. Just long enough for me to think I¡¯d get through the conversation without being scolded.


    No such luck. Today was International Scream at Secret Day and my cell company was loving how many minutes I was using to get browbeaten. Couldn¡¯t people text me their dissatisfaction? It would be much easier to ignore.


    Standing in the hall outside the body storage room, I leaned against the nearest wall and tried to fend off my now-constant headache by rubbing my temple. ¡°Am I in trouble?¡± I asked, a cheeky coyness slipping into my tone. If I was going to be yelled at, I might as well have fun with it.


    ¡°Secret, this isn¡¯t a joke.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then stop making it one.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I find it funny I¡¯ve lost three weeks of my life and now that I¡¯m home I¡¯m walking around with a target on my back? Oh, yeah. Time of my fucking life. Bring on the party hats and confetti.¡±


    ¡°Are you quite done?¡±


    ¡°I might be.¡±


    ¡°Go home. Stay there. Holden and I will be over shortly.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°This is not a negotiation,¡± he shouted, making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up. ¡°You will go, or you will leave me no choice but to find you¡ªwherever you are¡ªand drag you back by your hair. Do you understand me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± I was liking this being-human thing less and less with each passing second. What use was my humanity if I was going to be treated like a feeble, useless child because of it? ¡°But I¡­¡±


    The dial tone told me there was no sense in arguing. Not that he¡¯d have heard anything I said if he¡¯d stayed on the line. I might as well have listened to a voicemail message for as much participation as I¡¯d been granted in the conversation.


    I opened the door and looked into the small room. I hadn¡¯t realized how packed it had been with all of us in there, but now that I was on the outside I wondered how we¡¯d managed to be comfortable.


    ¡°We have to go,¡± I told my entourage.


    ¡°You have to go¡­investigate a murder?¡± Keaty suggested.


    ¡°Yeah. Right after a pissed-off vampire Tribunal leader gives me a piece of his mind.¡±


    ¡°You are not going to the council,¡± Desmond insisted, his voice telling me there was no room for argument. ¡°No way in hell.¡±


    For the first time Keaty seemed to clue in that he wasn¡¯t getting the entire scope of what was happening. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t she go to the council?¡± When Desmond didn¡¯t answer, he turned his attention to me, and I didn¡¯t like how fierce his expression was. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you go to the council?¡±


    ¡°Well, see¡­¡± I struggled to find the words, and Keaty must have interpreted my hesitation as an unwillingness to confess.


    ¡°Tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±


    Brigit, who had been displaying signs of cracking from the minute we arrived, beat me to the confessional punch. ¡°Secret is human,¡± she blurted.


    There went my big reveal.


    ¡°You¡¯re what?¡±


    ¡°Human.¡±


    ¡°As in¡­you have human qualities, or¡ª¡±


    ¡°She has a pulse,¡± Brigit offered.


    ¡°She¡¯s always had a pulse,¡± Desmond corrected. ¡°It¡¯s the whole, no-supernatural-strength, not-needing-blood-to-survive, and able-to-spend-extended-hours-in-sunlight-with-no-negative-side-effects thing that¡¯s new.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re what?¡± Keaty asked again.


    ¡°Human. I¡¯ll repeat it as many times as you want, but can I do it while we walk, please? I think if Sig gets to my apartment and I¡¯m not there, he¡¯s going to find a way to long-distance murder me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, he can¡¯t do that,¡± Brigit said matter-of-factly. ¡°It¡¯s illegal for a Tribunal leader to kill another Tribunal leader.¡±


    Frowning at her, I held the door open to usher them out. ¡°Thanks for the lesson from the Vampire Handbook, Bri.¡±


    She gave me a Boy Scout salute, with a little wink. Sometimes Brigit confounded me. I wasn¡¯t sure if she was as dopey as she seemed, or if it was all an artful ruse to make people underestimate her. If it was the latter, she was a genius and would eventually unseat me within the Tribunal.


    ¡°Is there really a Vampire Handbook?¡± she asked.


    And then there were moments where I wondered if she only wore ballet flats because shoelaces proved to be too tricky for her. Brigit Stewart¡ªvampire, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a brown paper bag. She was something else, all right.


    Keaty, the last one through the door, stopped when the others had gone ahead down the hall. ¡°Are you really¡­?¡± He had trouble making the words come out, but there was a sheen of emotion in his eyes that clawed at my heart. ¡°Is it true?¡±


    I nodded weakly. ¡°It seems to be.¡±


    With a quickness that was alarming for a middle-aged human male, Keaty wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in for a tight hug. He smelled like tobacco¡ªthe flowers, not cigarettes¡ªand faintly of a menthol shaving cream. It felt good to be close enough to him to remember what his particular scent was. I hadn¡¯t realized how much I¡¯d missed the sensory aspects of those around me until I was confronted with them. Everyone I knew had a specific smell, and without my heightened senses, I was at a loss to pick up on those scents anymore.


    I was so shocked by the outward display of affection from Keaty I almost forgot to return his hug. When I did, it was a stiff pat on the back. Since I¡¯d moved in with him at the age of sixteen, he¡¯d never once shown any kind of physical warmth towards me. I believed Keaty loved me in whatever way a sociopath was capable of, and I knew I was as close to a family as he would ever get, but to have him embrace me openly¡­


    It scared me.


    It meant my humanity mattered to him. But more, it meant my being a monster was what had kept him at a distance for all these years. I had long considered Keaty to be the closest thing I would have in my life to a father. Now I knew he¡¯d held me at arm¡¯s length because¡­because what?


    I hadn¡¯t been human.


    I¡¯d been a monster to him.


    My heart broke, and even the awkward kindness of his gesture could do nothing to repair the damage.


    Chapter Forty-Six


    The ride back to my apartment was awkwardly silent. Normally I might have tried to liven things up by cracking a joke at my expense, but I didn¡¯t feel like there was much to laugh at right then. We¡¯d parted ways with Keaty outside the morgue, but his presence still lingered. Our hug should have meant something good, something to make me view my situation in a positive light. Instead it made me doubt everything I knew about who I¡¯d been.


    Had I been nothing more than a monster masquerading as someone decent? Was I only worthwhile to those around me now that I was considered human?

 Page 45

    I¡¯d spent my whole life fighting against the monsters inside me, struggling to exist as something that shouldn¡¯t exist. And now that I fit the norm, I found I didn¡¯t want to belong. The world I¡¯d yearned to be accepted into wasn¡¯t all I¡¯d dreamed it would be.


    Boo-hoo, right? Go figure the grass wasn¡¯t any greener on the other side.


    Just a lot brighter.


    I was the first out of the car when we got to my place, but Brigit was right on my heels, taking her job as my bodyguard seriously. It didn¡¯t surprise me in the least to find my door unlocked, but for the sake of safety I let her go first. After a moment she popped her head out into the hall.


    ¡°It¡¯s relatively safe.¡±


    ¡°Relatively?¡±


    ¡°Like, no one is actually going to kill you, but you might want to stay out here all the same.¡±


    ¡°Brigit, let her in,¡± came Holden¡¯s voice from within the apartment. ¡°She needs to get this over with.¡±


    Yeah, that made me want to rush inside.


    ¡°I gather I don¡¯t have much choice.¡± Besides which, Desmond had joined me in the foyer, and there wasn¡¯t a lot of room to spare with two adults in the closet-sized landing.


    Brigit stepped aside, letting me and Desmond through. Holden had taken his familiar place on the loveseat, but Sig remained standing. He was in front of the fireplace, staring intently at my sword collection.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a man of faith,¡± Sig said. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can understand why.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re older than Jesus?¡±


    He snorted a humorless laugh. ¡°Religion existed long before me, long before him, and it has always been a fool¡¯s narrative. Those who do not know how to think for themselves look to gods for their answers. When the gods do not speak, they look to liars who claim to know the answers. Religion is a farce of liars and those with no minds of their own.¡±


    This didn¡¯t seem like a discussion, so I stayed quiet and let him talk.


    ¡°I may not be religious, but I find men of religion can often say truly remarkable things in spite of their own inherent stupidity.¡± He picked up the silver katana, careful not to touch the metal, and turned to face me, the weapon in his hand. ¡°Have you ever heard of Henry Ward Beecher?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°No, of course not. You¡¯re too young. Much, much too young.¡± He was playing with the weight of the sword, adjusting it so it was perfectly balanced. ¡°Ward once said, ¡®You have come into a hard world. I know of only one easy place in it, and that is the grave.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Sounds like Henry was a cheerful guy.¡±


    Sig gave me a look that plainly said now was still not the time for me to talk. ¡°It made me laugh when I first read it, because what is a vampire if not one step from the grave? And is our life easy? No, there is nothing easy in the life of a vampire. It is a hard world whether you are living or undead. So what does that mean for you?¡±


    I didn¡¯t like the implication of his buildup. ¡°I didn¡¯t do this intentionally.¡±


    ¡°As Mr. Chancery explained it to me, the choice was entirely yours.¡±


    ¡°And did Mr. Chancery tell you my other option was to leave one of them behind?¡± I pointed at Holden, then back to Desmond. ¡°I don¡¯t leave people behind.¡±


    ¡°You are not a Marine, Secret.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m just not as cold as you people apparently. I can¡¯t sacrifice someone else¡¯s life for the sake of getting what I want.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t sacrifice someone else, so you have sacrificed yourself instead.¡± Sig spun the blade in his palm, and instinctively I took a step backwards. He might have the ability to make people calm, but I was as far from relaxed as I could possibly be.


    ¡°What are you saying?¡±


    ¡°If the only easy place is the grave, you have made certain you¡¯re in for an easy future.¡±


    ¡°But you can¡¯t kill her,¡± Brigit said meekly. ¡°It¡¯s in the handbook.¡±


    At those words Desmond moved from his place by the front door and stood between me and Sig. If the Tribunal leader wanted me dead, Desmond wasn¡¯t going to be able to stop him. No one in this room could keep Sig from killing me if he wanted to.


    But upon hearing Brigit¡¯s words and watching Desmond move, Sig gave us an amused smirk and lowered the sword. ¡°Are you all stupid? I have no intention of killing her.¡±


    Holden hadn¡¯t moved once through the entire conversation, giving me the impression Sig was being honest. Holden was devoted to the council, but he was more devoted to me. I¡¯d been the one to save him when they wanted him dead. If there were allegiances owed anywhere, they were owed to me and not the council. So if he wasn¡¯t moving to protect me, there was nothing I needed protection from.


    That more than anything was what calmed me down.


    I touched Desmond¡¯s arm and gently pushed, angling him out of my way. Crossing the small distance to my living room, I stood about two feet shy of Sig. Never letting my gaze leave his, I drove my knee up, bumping his hand and sending the sword into the air. It went straight upwards and fell back, coming straight for me.


    I clapped my hands together, locking the silver blade between my palms. It was something I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do if I wasn¡¯t human. Something Sig himself could not do without being burned. Letting the sword slip the rest of the way to the floor, I held it by the handle and gave the two-thousand-year-old vampire an assessing stare.


    ¡°I¡¯m not easy to kill.¡±


    Sig leaned closer and cupped my chin, the smile on his lips taking on a serpentine quality. ¡°You haven¡¯t been listening, have you? Living is what¡¯s hard. It¡¯s dying that is easy.¡±


    I frowned, my hand tightening on the handle of the sword.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to make you an offer,¡± Sig continued, ignoring my defensive stance. ¡°A choice, even, which is more than most people get.¡±


    ¡°A choice in what?¡±


    ¡°You are a Tribunal leader, Secret. One of the highest positions of power there is in vampire society. If you show up to the council and reek of humanity as you do now, it will be anarchy. Every vampire down to the lowest on the totem¡­¡± his gaze shifted briefly to Brigit, ¡°¡­will be clambering over one another to seize your power. And they will do it by killing you.¡±


    ¡°And I gather this choice you have for me will solve that problem?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like where this is going,¡± Desmond said, trying to step back in front of me. I stopped him with a gentle touch, indicating I appreciated his efforts to protect me, but I still wanted to hear what Sig was proposing.


    ¡°What are my choices?¡±


    ¡°To remain Tribunal, you must be a vampire.¡±


    Now I was with Desmond. I didn¡¯t like where this was going either. ¡°What are my choices?¡± I repeated, this time unable to hide the annoyance that slipped out.


    ¡°Very simple. Your choices are me¡­¡± he pointed to himself, and then turned and pointed a finger at Holden, ¡°¡­or him.¡±


    Chapter Forty-Seven


    I didn¡¯t know a face could become purple in real life until I saw it happen to Desmond. He started out pink then quickly progressed to a deep, ugly bruise color. I thought I¡¯d have the most impassioned response to Sig¡¯s suggestion, but I was wrong.


    ¡°Desmond, breathe,¡± I suggested quietly.


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he replied through gritted teeth.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this.¡±


    Slowly his color returned to normal, but I waited until I was sure he wasn¡¯t going to pass out before I spoke to Sig. ¡°After what Holden told you about my experience with the fairy king, and the number of years you¡¯ve known me¡­can you honestly expect me to be able to flip a coin and decide which one of you gets to take my life? This isn¡¯t a one-or-the-other question. This isn¡¯t something you can expect me to agree to on the spot. If you think I¡¯m going to say, ¡®oh yes, Sig, please bite me right now¡¯ you have got another thing coming.¡±


    ¡°So you pick me, then,¡± Sig replied.


    ¡°You have honed some incredibly selective hearing over two thousand years, do you know that?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°No one is biting me.¡±


    ¡°You too have chosen to hear me as you see fit, if you understood this as being optional.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re asking me to give up my life.¡±


    ¡°Certainly you haven¡¯t gotten terribly attached to it in less than twenty-four hours. Let¡¯s be realistic here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my life.¡±


    ¡°No. It is a romantic view of an idealized outcome. You think by being human you will be able to have a normal life. You don¡¯t have the luxury of a normal life. Not now, not ever. You sacrificed that right when you wed a werewolf king and sat on a vampire throne.¡±


    ¡°The Tribunal spot wasn¡¯t my idea. It wasn¡¯t what I wanted.¡±


    ¡°If our lives were only about what we wanted, everyone would have perfect love, millions of dollars and no complaints. You cannot be so foolish to believe you can have things the way you like them all the time. You have responsibilities.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I don¡¯t know that?¡±


    ¡°I think you let passion lead you when it suits, and pragmatism takes charge only when absolutely necessary.¡±


    I slapped him.


    It hurt. Way more than an open-palm slap should. But I¡¯d put real force into it, and slapping a vampire when you¡¯re a mere mortal is a terrible idea under any circumstances. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare pretend like you know what I¡¯ve had to think about today. You can¡¯t possibly know.¡±


    My slap did nothing to impact Sig¡¯s mood. He remained serious, but there was no rage in him. ¡°I am not trying to be cruel to you. I know this isn¡¯t what you hoped for, but your life is not yours alone. If you do not do what I am suggesting, then your death will come at the hands of someone else, and there will be no coming back from that death. I¡¯m doing this to save your life, not to punish you for having it.¡±

 Page 46

    With my hands shaking and the threat of tears brewing, I stepped aside to create a clear path between Sig and the door. ¡°Get out.¡±


    ¡°Secret¡ª¡±


    ¡°Out.¡±


    Holden got to his feet and stood next to Sig. He had a familiar look on his face, one that made me certain I was about to get a lecture about protecting my life and blah, blah, blah. ¡°We can make this quick. Painless. You know the bite can even be pleasurable¡ª¡±


    My cheeks flamed red, and I pointed to the door with my pulse throbbing in my ears. ¡°You too. Get out.¡±


    Holden frowned and reached out to touch my arm.


    I jerked away and raised the sword. ¡°I¡¯m not playing around. I may be human, but I have no damn problem remembering how to use this.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be absurd,¡± Sig said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t push me.¡±


    The two vampires stared at me. Holden added, ¡°We need you to do this.¡±


    ¡°You need to give me more than two and a half seconds to accept that.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for insight and soul-searching,¡± Sig said. ¡°The longer you remain human, the greater the risk. We have avoided the secret getting out, but the longer you are away from the council, the more questionable your absence becomes.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°And your mother is back, I understand? Do you think she won¡¯t take advantage of this?¡±


    ¡°She will.¡±


    ¡°So you see why this must happen.¡±


    ¡°I see a door. What I don¡¯t see is you two going through it.¡±


    ¡°Now is not the time for your stubbornness.¡±


    ¡°You know, considering how vampires usually have all the patience in the world, you two seem completely unable to give me time to digest how I want to handle this. Being a vampire is not my only option.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± Sig asked, obviously not believing me.


    ¡°No. I could let him bite me.¡± I indicated Desmond, who had done a good job of keeping his cool after his initial outburst.


    Sig laughed. ¡°What on earth would that solve?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d stop being an easy target. I¡¯d be damned hard to kill. And I¡¯d be living up to the other heap of responsibilities you seem totally willing to overlook. The werewolf ones.¡±


    Holden shook his head. ¡°We know about that part of you, but this is more important.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you would think so, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not hubris. Whether or not you are a werewolf doesn¡¯t decide your life. You can give up your place with the wolves and still go on. You don¡¯t love the wolf king anymore.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not the only wolf who mattered to me, you idiot.¡±


    ¡°Well, if that one cares about you, he¡¯s still going to care about you if you¡¯re a vampire instead of a werewolf.¡±


    ¡°And if you care about me, you won¡¯t mind if I want to be werewolf instead of a vampire,¡± I countered.


    ¡°Do you think that¡¯s what this is about?¡± Holden pushed in front of Sig, and I had to lower my sword, or I¡¯d risk stabbing him by accident. ¡°This isn¡¯t about whether or not I can love you as a wolf, or a human, or a vampire, Secret. I¡¯ll love you no matter what you are or what you become. That¡¯s not what this is. If you aren¡¯t a vampire, you are going to die. There¡¯s no other way around it. And whatever else you might be, I can¡¯t love you if you¡¯re dead.¡±


    I was thunderstruck.


    It wasn¡¯t often in my life I¡¯d been left at a total loss for words, but Holden¡¯s speech had knocked the wind right out of me.


    ¡°I need tonight,¡± I said finally. ¡°Just tonight.¡±


    Holden looked like he might argue, but Sig raised one hand to silence him. ¡°You can have it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Now get out. Both of you.¡±


    This time neither of them argued. Once they were gone, my apartment felt small, like they¡¯d taken all the air with them. Ironic, since neither of them breathed. Desmond was flushed, and I could tell he wasn¡¯t happy about what had happened. I couldn¡¯t blame him, but I couldn¡¯t apologize either. Holden professing his love was just one point of insanity on an already batshit-crazy day. What was worse was that his words had a huge impact on me. Holden loved me, and I loved him, and I wasn¡¯t ready to throw that all away. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t turn up my nose at the idea of being a vampire.


    Specifically I shouldn¡¯t turn up my nose at the idea of being bound to Holden for the rest of my life. In the most intimate way possible.


    These were not the kind of decisions normal human girls had to make. Even as a mortal I was still dealing with the crap from a supernatural life.


    I slumped into the loveseat, still holding the sword. ¡°Desmond, I need you to do something for me. You¡¯re not going to like it, but I need you to do it.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Get Lucas. Bring him here.¡±


    If he¡¯d had fur, it would have bristled. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because if I¡¯m going to die tomorrow, I need him to do me one last favor.¡±


    Chapter Forty-Eight


    As far as nights went, this was shaping up to be one of the longest of my life.


    It took ten minutes for me to convince Desmond it was safe to leave me alone with Brigit, and I spent the next fifteen on the phone with Jackson listening to him bitch about Kellen. So much for my bright idea to hand-deliver rebound sex to her front door.


    ¡°She will not shut up about this dude, Brokk, and I swear to God she must have cases of booze hidden everywhere in this apartment. She¡¯s like a goddamn Prohibition smuggler. Every time I take something away from her, she disappears and comes back with more.¡±


    ¡°Maybe her fairy boyfriend created a magical rift between her fridge and a liquor store,¡± I suggested. Did all humans suffer from headaches as often and severely as I was? Or perhaps it had something to do with spending an entire afternoon in the sunshine when I¡¯d never been able to look at it before.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is funny,¡± Jackson said.


    ¡°Neither do I.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done with this.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean I¡¯m done. I¡¯m out of here. This isn¡¯t my job.¡±


    I sat upright in my chair. ¡°Jackson, don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±


    ¡°More stupid than sitting here and letting this drunk bit¡­jackass treat me like dirt under her very expensive heels¡ªas she is constantly reminding me? Fuck it.¡±


    Looked like I wasn¡¯t the only one Kellen was treating like crap today. I wish I could have said it felt good not to be the lone member of the club, but I couldn¡¯t. My partner in crime was about to bail on me. ¡°Jackson, you can¡¯t leave her. If there¡¯s no one there to watch her, she¡¯s going to bolt.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what she¡¯s doing right now?¡±


    ¡°Drinking?¡±


    ¡°No. She¡¯s angling all of her mirrors so they face each other, because she read on the internet it was a surefire way to open gateways to parallel realities and invite fairies in. Does that sound to you like someone who wants to be protected from the fae?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s under a spell. I don¡¯t think she has any idea what she¡¯s doing.¡± But I didn¡¯t sound sure of it myself.


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck.¡±


    Where had the mild-mannered, sweet, shy wolf gone? Jackson had never been this cold before. Kellen must have been acting like a real cow if she¡¯d pushed him over the edge this quickly.


    ¡°Do you think you can hold out for the rest of the night?¡±


    ¡°Look, Secret¡­I know you¡¯re my Queen and I¡¯m supposed to respect your word as law and all that stuff. And I know I probably owe you this.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no kidding.¡±


    ¡°But if I last another hour without murdering her, it will be a miracle.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Fuck.


    ¡°Either you come here for a changing of the guard, or I¡¯m letting this dizzy bitch run off to her fairy lala land.¡± He had to be really mad if he¡¯d dropped the b word, which was a big no-no for werewolves. ¡°Why are you stopping her anyway? She obviously wants to go. Let her.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea what I went through to get her back. What I sacrificed.¡±


    ¡°Send her back. If they want her, maybe they¡¯ll return your shit.¡±


    I laughed unhappily. ¡°She isn¡¯t an ugly Christmas gift I can send back to Bloomingdale¡¯s.¡±


    There was silence, and Jackson gave a heavy sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for as long as it takes you to get here.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t ask for much more from him at this point.


    Brigit was across the room and had been pretending not to listen, but the second Jackson made his bargain she got to her feet and started waving her hands and shaking her head.


    ¡°Okay. I understand. I¡¯m on my way.¡± I hung up and got my aching body off the chair, my muscles groaning in protest.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but did you miss the waving hands? That means no.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°So why did you agree?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got you with me, I¡¯ll be safe.¡±


    The look of pride on her face at my compliment did almost as much good as Keaty had done damage earlier. ¡°You trust me that much?¡±


    ¡°Bri, you¡¯re one of my best friends. And you once managed to tackle me. I¡¯d say you¡¯re tough enough to keep me protected from a macho rogue werewolf if one shows up.¡±


    She crossed the room and gave me a big hug, her ample bosom pressing into my chest. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of you.¡±


    ¡°You always do.¡± I pulled back, not accustomed to all the touchy-feely hug business I¡¯d been on the receiving end of today. ¡°Now let¡¯s go before I change my mind and let Kellen run away to join the traveling fairy circus.¡±


    ¡°This¡¯ll be fun,¡± Brigit assured me. ¡°Sleepover at Kellen¡¯s house.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know if fun is the word I would go with.¡±

 Page 47

    Brigit had gone ahead of me, the apartment door swinging open. ¡°We¡¯ll make it fun. Think of all the champagne she has!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying not to.¡±


    ¡°Can you grab my purse?¡± she called from the foyer. ¡°I want to check the street before you come out.¡±


    She was certainly dedicated to her bodyguard job, I had to give her props for that. ¡°I¡¯m just going to grab a sweater,¡± I announced to my empty apartment. Brigit was a vampire. She¡¯d probably heard me fine.


    It was weird, needing a sweater for something other than keeping up the appearance of being normal. When I¡¯d gone out with Desmond that morning, I¡¯d decided the yellow sundress crammed in the back of my closet was the perfect thing to wear. Now I didn¡¯t want to waste time changing, but I knew I¡¯d freeze half to death if I went outside without something to cover me.


    Outside, a car backfired. Brigit must have left both doors wide open if I¡¯d been able to hear it in the bedroom. So much for her awesome bodyguarding skills.


    Tugging on a black cardigan, I jogged through the living room and grabbed both our purses from beside the door, locking the apartment before I left and noting the street door was ajar, as I¡¯d expected. Brigit was standing on the sidewalk outside, her back to me.


    ¡°Nice job with the doors, sweetie. No one would suspect I¡¯d leave the welcome mat out.¡±


    She didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°Bri? Did you hear me?¡± I closed the street door and jogged up the first two steps.


    When I was halfway to the top, she turned towards me, swaying unevenly as if the slight breeze was strong enough to knock her off balance. Her red shirt glittered in the moonlight. How had I not noticed the sequins before? I was about to compliment her on how pretty the effect was until I saw her face.


    As a vampire, she was naturally pale, but there was something wrong in her expression. Her mouth was drawn in a grimace, and red-hued tears had swelled in her eyes, giving her a ghastly raccoonlike expression.


    Brigit lifted her hand and touched the front of her shirt. When she pulled it away, she stared down at her own chest. That¡¯s when I remembered.


    She¡¯d been wearing a pink shirt. With no sequins.


    Our purses dropped from my hands as I jumped the top two stairs and reached her the moment she buckled over. I wasn¡¯t in time to keep her from skinning her knees on the pavement, but I managed to keep her from pitching face-first back down the stairs.


    When Brigit opened her mouth to speak, there was a burble noise, followed by a stream of blood over her lips. For someone whose body gave off no heat, her blood felt shockingly hot on my chest as she pressed her cheek against my collarbone.


    ¡°S-s-sorry,¡± she managed, her jaw trembling with the effort to form words. ¡°S-so s-sorry.¡±


    ¡°Shhh, shhh.¡± I stroked her hair, trying to be calm, but my eyes were frantically scanning the street. It had been only seconds since I¡¯d stepped through the door. I still didn¡¯t know what had happened, but I didn¡¯t need to be a detective to figure out a plausible explanation. I knew what a silver-bullet wound looked like on a vampire. Between the bloody chest and what I¡¯d thought had been a backfiring car, the math added up to someone shooting her.


    Movement behind a nearby car caught my eye. I dragged Brigit closer to me, angling her body away from the street. I might have been the one in danger, but there was no fucking way I would use my injured friend as a shield.


    My purse was a few steps away, gun stashed inside. Too far to get to easily.


    I didn¡¯t care.


    Brigit gasped for a breath, a weirdly human response considering she didn¡¯t need oxygen to live. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish thrown into a boat, waiting for the club to fall. She continued to gasp in hoarse, ragged breaths, like the air was just out of reach and if she kept trying, she¡¯d be able to catch it finally.


    ¡°Show yourself,¡± I croaked, barely able to get the command out around the fist forming in my own throat. ¡°Show yourself, you fucking coward.¡±


    I expected the shooter to be Hank. Or any one of my mother¡¯s other lackeys. What I didn¡¯t expect was Mercy McQueen herself to step out from behind the car. Any words I might have had for someone else vanished the moment I saw her.


    Mercy was still lovely now that she was forty, though I¡¯d never seen anything resembling happiness on my mother¡¯s face. Probably because every time I saw her she was looking at me, and no one alive hated me as much as she did.


    ¡°It was supposed to be you,¡± she seethed, then spit on the concrete. ¡°I waited, I saw the wolf leave. It was supposed to be you coming out.¡±


    ¡°S-s¡ª¡± Brigit started to apologize again but stopped to cough up more blood.


    I hugged her close to me, trying my best to keep her protected should my mother decide to finish the vampire off. I gave Brigit¡¯s shoulder a gentle squeeze and whispered another shushing noise. In response she wrapped her arms limply around my middle.


    I could stand and get my gun. There was a chance I might even make it before Mercy showed where she was hiding hers and took a shot. But I couldn¡¯t do it. Brigit held me, and any resolve I had to get up and kill my mother faded into a secondary concern. A nuclear explosion wouldn¡¯t make me come to my feet right then.


    Sirens howled nearby.


    Mercy had been stupid enough to fire in a residential neighborhood without a silencer. It might have been Hell¡¯s Kitchen, but I also lived a few blocks from a school where a student had been brutally murdered. People took violence seriously in my area.


    She looked hesitant, like she was debating whether or not she should try to take the shot or get out while she still had a chance.


    ¡°She looks just like you,¡± Mercy said, stepping away from the sidewalk. ¡°It was supposed to be you.¡±


    I held Brigit close, my fingers tangled in the blood-soaked strands of her blonde hair. I watched my mother carefully until she made up her mind. Mercy lifted the weapon and pulled the trigger. I winced when it clicked, but soon realized the sound I heard was the familiar one of a bullet jamming in the slide. Mercy mustn¡¯t have been accustomed to using silver bullets, because she swore and pulled the slide back to eject the round. If her gun wasn¡¯t designed for use with silver ammunition, and most weren¡¯t, the only way she¡¯d fire a shot now was if she reloaded with standard rounds.


    She didn¡¯t have time and she knew it. Giving me one last look, she snarled and bolted into the night. I waited until the sound of her heels was gone before I tried moving again.


    ¡°It was supposed to be me,¡± I whispered.


    Tears burned my eyes, streaming down my cheeks in a hot, unstoppable torrent.


    One of the things I¡¯d most longed for when I¡¯d dealt with being half-vampire was the desire to cry without seeing blood. My pink-hued tears had been the bane of my existence, and I¡¯d wished sometimes I could cry like a normal person.


    Now I would trade it all to give the clean tears back.


    I¡¯d do anything to have the strength to easily carry a hundred-and-thirty-pound girl a few blocks. Instead, I was left with only the upper-body strength I¡¯d cultivated and none of the supernatural ability. I dragged Brigit¡¯s body, limp and unresponsive, with agonizing slowness towards Calliope¡¯s Starbucks. I had it in my head if I could get her to the gateway on time, I could undo the damage of a silver bullet straight through the heart.


    Bargaining.


    I shook my head, chasing away the thought. I wasn¡¯t going through the stages of grief.


    Denial.


    The dead weight of her body made me stumble and pause to get my balance against a laundromat wall. I tugged her closer. Her arm was wrapped around my neck, and her head lolled forward like a rag doll whose stuffing had come out. Her feet were dragging limply with every step I took, not even giving the impression she was trying to help move herself along.


    Of course she¡¯s not helping, the mean voice in the back of my head said. She¡¯s dead.


    ¡°No,¡± I said out loud, angrily and with so much force I wondered if I could make it true just by insisting on it. ¡°Come on, Bri, hang on.¡± I choked on the last words, my bottom lip quivering hard as I tried to keep my composure.


    The police couldn¡¯t be far. They¡¯d been close enough to scare off Mercy. But human support couldn¡¯t do anything for Brigit. If there was a hope in hell of her pulling through, I needed to get her to Calliope.


    The bright green Starbucks sign bathed the sidewalk ahead in a beautiful glow. I cried harder, both from relief and the desperate ache building in my shoulders. A block had never seemed so far. I hobbled forward, dragging Brigit along with me. Each square of the sidewalk felt like a mile unto itself.


    When we finally stood outside the door, I thought I might collapse. My knees were shaking, and each breath burned my lungs. I was crying so hard I couldn¡¯t see anything clearly through the veil of tears clouding my vision. I balanced Brigit against me and pushed the door open. Her weight shifted, and we both teetered forward.


    It didn¡¯t matter. We¡¯d made it. Falling through the gateway would work just as well as walking through it on two feet, and Brigit was a vampire so there should be no issues with her passing through.


    Except we didn¡¯t.


    Brigit¡¯s weight toppled into me, and we crashed through the door where I landed hard on my back in the middle of a brightly lit Starbucks. I was covered in blood, and there was a dead body on top of me.


    I lay dumbfounded under her, staring at the ceiling fan. What had happened? The gate should open for those in genuine need. What need was more genuine than this?


    A woman¡¯s scream pierced my thoughts and brought me reeling back to the present. To the bulky presence pressing down on my chest. I struggled to come up to my elbows and pushed a curtain of Brigit¡¯s long blonde hair out of her face. Her vacant eyes stared back at me, but they saw nothing. Her lips were slightly parted and red with her own dried blood. She wasn¡¯t trying to apologize anymore.


    She wasn¡¯t going to do anything anymore.


    A huge sob bubbled from my lips with an ugly-sounding hiccup.


    I¡¯d had one last chance, one final hope, and I had failed.

 Page 48

    Brigit was dead.


    Chapter Forty-Nine


    Hospitals didn¡¯t smell like death.


    I¡¯d spent enough time around the dead and dying to know what real death smelled like, and the hospital waiting room didn¡¯t smell like any of that. It reeked of antiseptic and hopelessness, but not death.


    Desmond and Lucas, having followed the trail of blood from my apartment to the cafe, were sitting across from me, looking larger than life in the tiny, badly abused chairs. I hadn¡¯t spoken to them the entire time we¡¯d been here, and they¡¯d proven to be exceptionally patient up to this point.


    ¡°Secret¡­¡± Lucas hazarded to be the first to speak.


    ¡°I want you to kill them all,¡± I replied, my voice raspy from all the sobbing.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Mercy¡¯s pack. I want you to kill them. All of them.¡± My initial request was going to be for him to drive them out of my city. Now banishment didn¡¯t seem nearly suitable enough.


    Maybe he was wishing he hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°You can. You will. You owe me this. You owe her this.¡± I hugged my cardigan over my blood-stained sundress. One of the nurses had offered me a pair of scrubs to change into, but they were sitting on the chair beside me, untouched. I wasn¡¯t ready to take the dress off yet.


    I also didn¡¯t know why we were waiting.


    We¡¯d been taken to a human hospital. Brigit should have been declared dead on the scene, but I think they¡¯d recognized Lucas and wanted to make a show for him of how dedicated they were to saving lives. It was horseshit anyway. She¡¯d been undead first. Now she was just dead.


    A new wave of tears started streaming down my cheeks. I¡¯d stopped trying to fight them, and the boys had stopped asking if I was okay. I wasn¡¯t, and there wasn¡¯t much anyone could do to change that. Unless Lucas killed Mercy¡¯s pack.


    When he killed Mercy¡¯s pack.


    A short man with round, ruddy cheeks and circle-framed glasses came into the waiting room. With his tousled receding hair and boyish face, I couldn¡¯t help but think of Radar from M*A*S*H, a show I¡¯d spent much of my youth watching with Grandmere. Lucas, ever the one to take charge, rose to his feet to meet the doctor.


    ¡°I¡¯m Doctor Nicholas,¡± he said, then removed his glasses.


    I swore doctors only wore glasses so they could take them off to heighten dramatic moods. Dr. Nicholas needn¡¯t have bothered, there was no more room for drama here.


    ¡°You¡¯re Miss Stewart¡¯s¡­friends?¡±


    ¡°We were her family,¡± I whispered, looking down at my hands. She¡¯d been my family.


    ¡°You were the one who carried her to the coffee shop.¡± The way the doctor phrased it, there wasn¡¯t a question. Since he already had his answer, I didn¡¯t bother replying. ¡°That was a very brave thing you did,¡± he added with admiration.


    I didn¡¯t have enough emotion left in me to appreciate his sentiment.


    ¡°Doctor,¡± Lucas said, trying to get the conversation back on track. ¡°About Brigit?¡±


    Dr. Nicholas reached to his face before realizing he already had the glasses in his hands and couldn¡¯t remove them a second time. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have bad news.¡±


    Across the room, Desmond¡¯s shoulders sank and his face grew sullen. That was the first time it dawned on me he had actually been holding out hope. Until the moment those words were spoken, Desmond thought there was a chance we were getting Brigit back.


    Seeing his face now, it was like she had died all over again, because for him she had. I wanted to go to him, to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but I couldn¡¯t. Nothing was going to be okay, and I couldn¡¯t pretend to feel something I didn¡¯t. I¡¯d told Brigit everything would be okay, and look where it had gotten us.


    ¡°Brigit sustained a serious gunshot wound to the chest. The bullet lodged near her spine and did incredible damage to her heart. She lost a great deal of blood, and by the time we were able to get to her, she was already gone. I¡¯m very sorry. If it¡¯s any consolation, she likely didn¡¯t suffer¡ª¡±


    ¡°What did you say?¡± I asked, suddenly shaken from my zombie state.


    ¡°I said she likely didn¡¯t suffer.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡±


    ¡°Is there a guide they give you?¡± At some point I had gotten to my feet and was a few steps closer to the doctor than I had been a moment earlier. ¡°Some sort of suggestion list you receive from med school that tells you what to say to a grieving family?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only trying to help.¡±


    ¡°What help is it to lie?¡± I screamed. Lucas moved closer, prepared to step between me and the doctor if I lashed out, but he was smart not to touch me, or I would have unleashed all my violent urges on him instead. ¡°She suffered. She suffered.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said again, his voice going soft.


    ¡°She suffered.¡±


    Desmond came from behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tight against his warm, hard chest. He smelled comfortable and familiar, but I was in no mood to be comforted. When I started to struggle, he held me tighter, shushing me quietly and pressing light kisses onto the back of my head. He was providing me the support I had been unwilling to give him only a minute earlier.


    ¡°She suffered,¡± I said again, tears flowing so freely they were wetting the tile floor at my feet.


    The doctor gave Lucas an apologetic look, and the werewolf king patted him kindly on the shoulder. ¡°We know you did everything you could, Doctor Nicholas, thank you.¡±


    ¡°He couldn¡¯t do anything,¡± I wheezed. ¡°She was already dead.¡±


    ¡°When she¡¯s ready, there¡¯s an officer out in the hall who¡¯d like to ask her a few questions. I kept them out until I was able to speak to you all, but they¡¯re quite insistent.¡±


    ¡°I understand. Thank you.¡±


    After the doctor left he was replaced by two uniformed officers who asked routine questions which I answered with routine lies.


    Did you see who shot her? ¡°No.¡±


    Did you hear anything unusual? ¡°No.¡±


    Would anyone have a reason to kill Miss Stewart? ¡°Of course not, everyone loved Brigit.¡± I wanted that one to be true, but she was a vampire after all, and not always a popular one thanks to her role in my life.


    Were you aware there was a missing person¡¯s report filed for Miss Stewart over a year ago by her parents? ¡°I was not.¡± Though it shouldn¡¯t surprise me, since that would coincide with the time she¡¯d really died. I¡¯d often wondered about Brigit¡¯s life before I¡¯d catapulted her into the vampire world. I pictured her doing beauty pageants and painting her nails next to swimming pools. I knew she was originally from California, but that was it. All my knowledge of Brigit Stewart came A.V., After Vampirism.


    I guess now her family would have closure.


    But where was my closure?


    The officers asked Lucas and Desmond some questions, but since they hadn¡¯t been at the crime scene they couldn¡¯t offer much help. I was told not to travel out of state and asked to call the police if I remembered anything else.


    Once they had left, Desmond finally let me go. I¡¯d stopped shaking, and for the time being I wasn¡¯t crying. The moment I was out of his arms, I headed for the door.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Lucas demanded.


    I paused in the entryway. ¡°Someone has to tell Nolan.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t go alone,¡± Desmond insisted.


    ¡°What good has a bodyguard done me?¡± I asked. ¡°If someone wants me dead, I¡¯d rather they kill me than go through anyone else trying.¡±


    Desmond picked up my purse, which he¡¯d thoughtfully collected from the stoop of my apartment and brought along when they followed the ambulance, and met me at the door. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± I agreed, and was grateful he¡¯d insisted, even if I couldn¡¯t manage to express it. ¡°And you.¡± I pointed a finger at Lucas. ¡°You will kill those fucking wolves or so help me God I will find a way the rain a fire of hell and pain on your life so epic it will make you wish your father¡¯s father¡¯s father had never been born. Do you understand me?¡±


    He nodded.


    For once in the wolf king¡¯s life, he didn¡¯t try to get the last word.


    Chapter Fifty


    Beheading a demon was easier than breaking Nolan Tate¡¯s heart.


    I¡¯d been with Brigit when she died, and even now, a half day later, I wasn¡¯t sure which event had been harder on me. Watching her die had destroyed me. Telling Nolan she was gone might as well have killed me.


    He¡¯d cried. There had been screaming, followed by more crying. Then he¡¯d thrown the television on the floor, punched a hole in the drywall and left the apartment. Desmond and I had spent the night, trading bouts of fitful sleep on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He never did.


    Every time I drifted off I hoped I¡¯d see Brigit again. I imagined she might be waiting for me in my dreams, trying to deliver an important message. I wanted her to tell me the doctors had screwed up and she was fine but they couldn¡¯t tell because she¡¯d had no pulse to begin with.


    After a few minutes of black, dreamless sleep, I would wake up feeling worse than I had before.


    Around noon we stopped trying to sleep and gave up waiting for Nolan to come home.


    I spent the afternoon with Desmond, retracing the steps we¡¯d taken the day before in happier times. I wore a dress taken from Brigit¡¯s closet, and every so often I¡¯d smell her specific laundry detergent and fresh memories of her would bubble to the surface. I might have been better off leaving my blood-stained outfit on rather than wearing a dress steeped in sadness. The dress was also a good two inches shorter than I was comfortable with, making me feel self-concious and uncomfortable.


    Neither Desmond nor I said much, choosing to walk in silence. The daytime sounds of New York were abundant. In Central Park, tourists chattered and snapped pictures, pigeons cooed, and sparrows chittered while picking at people¡¯s leftover food.

 Page 49

    We stopped next to Bethesda Fountain, sitting on the edge and watching rented rowboats sail past under the untrained strokes of teenaged boys and middle-aged couples.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± he asked finally.


    ¡°I have an idea.¡±


    ¡°You usually do.¡±


    ¡°It hinges on the Rain siblings.¡±


    ¡°Then it probably isn¡¯t a good idea,¡± he said.


    ¡°They never are.¡±


    Two rowboats collided, their front ends knocking against each other. A group of young women in one giggled and apologized to the couple in the other. Youth was a funny thing, so open to forgiveness. We watched the boats part ways and drift in opposite directions across the pond.


    ¡°Are you going to tell me your terrible plan?¡±


    ¡°That depends.¡±


    ¡°On?¡±


    ¡°Will you try to talk me out of it?¡±


    Desmond took my hand but didn¡¯t look at me. ¡°No. I¡¯m done trying to talk you into or out of anything. I might not agree, but you won¡¯t change your mind because of me.¡±


    I squeezed his hand and chose not to placate him with a lie.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to take Kellen back. And I¡¯m going to make Holden help me do it.¡± He didn¡¯t reply for such a long time I thought he might not have heard me. When I glanced at him, his expression told me he hadn¡¯t had any trouble catching what I¡¯d said. ¡°Desmond?¡±


    He forced a smile, which faded quickly. ¡°I said I wouldn¡¯t say anything.¡±


    ¡°Good. Then take me to Kellen¡¯s so I can get the easy Rain out of the way first.¡±


    ¡°I know I said I would wait until you got here, but this is pushing the limits of my goddamn patience,¡± Jackson growled. ¡°You¡¯re lucky she passed out hours ago and has premium cable.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what could have been so important you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Jackson. No.¡± Desmond shook his head, cutting Jackson off mid-rant. ¡°No.¡±


    Jackson threw his hands up in the air. ¡°Fine. Whatever. I¡¯m out.¡± He grabbed his backpack from beside the door and was gone before I could think to put my shaking hands around his scrawny neck.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry he¡ª¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t know,¡± I said flatly. ¡°Let¡¯s find Kellen so I can get out of here.¡± Sunset was on the move, and I wanted to get to Holden before he scurried off to the council and made any more plans with Sig about my future.


    Holden was an integral part of the plan. I couldn¡¯t get to Calliope without a vampire, but also if I didn¡¯t get what I wanted from Aubrey, I would accept the ultimatum from Sig and let Holden turn me. I didn¡¯t like it, but there it was.


    I needed Kellen because she was a bargaining chip. She was, ultimately, the most important part of my mission. I wouldn¡¯t be able to do what I wanted if she was bespelled. I might have selfish motives, but they didn¡¯t involving selling my friend back into fairy slavery. But if she was¡ªas she claimed¡ªhonestly in love with Brokk, then I¡¯d sacrificed all my power for nothing.


    I would take Kellen to Calliope and the Oracle could tell me the truth.


    If Kellen was in love, and it was an honest-to-God relationship I had saved her from, then I was stamping a big old Return to Sender on her and making Aubrey give me my powers back. I had misgivings about whether he¡¯d agree, but if Brokk was being as big a pain in the ass to Aubrey as Kellen was being to us, I hoped he¡¯d be begging to make the swap.


    If he hesitated, I was prepared to bring up the broken promise he¡¯d made. He¡¯d told me he would keep the anonymous fairy killer from taking another life, and he¡¯d failed. Between Kellen and the promise, I had to believe he would return me to myself.


    And once I was myself again, I was going to kill my mother.


    That¡¯s what it all came down to. The whole plan¡ªevery convoluted aspect of it¡ªhad nothing to do with balancing the scales or restoring rightness to the world. It didn¡¯t matter that I had responsibilities or people counting on me. I didn¡¯t care about making Kellen happy or pleasing Sig by being what he needed on the council.


    What lay at the base of it all¡ªthe foundation holding the whole mess up¡ªwas I wanted my mother to die by my hands, and I wanted them to be the monstrous hands she had created.


    ¡°Find Kellen,¡± I instructed. ¡°It¡¯s time to go.¡±


    Desmond and I searched the apartment and found Kellen sleeping on the floor in her bedroom. There were two magnums of champagne next to her, neither opened thank God, because Kellen was a small girl and that much champagne might have killed her. Not to mention one of the bottles was covered in a thick film of dust and was probably worth more than the annual rent on her apartment.


    Positioned around her in a circle was every mirror she had in the apartment¡ªat least the ones she could take off the walls¡ªall facing in on each other, creating reflected tunnels that went on forever. When I poked her with my toe, a dozen of my disapproving doppelgangers did the same.


    ¡°Ungh,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Get up,¡± I replied, nudging her harder. ¡°We¡¯re getting you out of here.¡±


    She cracked one eyelid and wiped the crusty bits of sleep from her eyes. Judging from the pained squinting, I had been right to predict she¡¯d have a hell of a headache. ¡°Secret, is that you? Where are we going?¡± Her voice was small, almost childlike, and for a moment¡ªjust a moment¡ªI had a pang of the deepest sympathy for her.


    If she was in love, I knew what it was like to have that pulled away. Worse¡ªI knew what it was like to have the person you love the most walk out the door willingly. I had that man beside me now, but the gods only knew what he and I were to each other. I¡¯d been handed a perfect future for us. An opportunity for us to have our happily ever after and everything we could have dreamed.


    He¡¯d asked me to run.


    And I¡¯d said no.


    Instead of treating Kellen like the problem, I reminded myself she was my friend, and I was steadily running out of friends. I sat on the floor beside her and brushed damp hair off her forehead. ¡°Do you really love him?¡± I asked. Maybe if she did love him, there was a chance one of us could finish this awful week with a little happiness.


    Her lashes fluttered, and her hand went to her chest. I saw the flicker of raw hope on her face, and it was a kind of emotion that couldn¡¯t be faked. Calliope would tell me one way or the other if the love Kellen felt was real, but her expression told me what Kellen felt.


    ¡°Yes. Oh, yes. And I didn¡¯t mean what I said, Secret. About you and Desmond.¡± She looked from me to the gentleman in question. ¡°You didn¡¯t deserve that from me.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Maybe I did deserve it.¡±


    Kellen took my hand and scooted closer. ¡°No. I was a bitch.¡±


    That made me laugh, however lightly. ¡°Takes one to know one, hon. If you do love him, then I didn¡¯t really do you any favors by dragging you back here.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask, either.¡± I got to my feet again and offered her a hand up. ¡°Get dressed.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m taking you to Calliope. And then I¡¯m taking you back.¡±


    Chapter Fifty-One


    I didn¡¯t have the luxury of time to let Kellen say goodbye to Lucas in person, but we lived in a world of iPhone technology. As we drove I used my too-smart-for-its-own-good phone to video call Lucas, and when he answered, I passed Kellen the phone.


    I tried not to listen in, but they were both emotional as Kellen told him she loved him but she couldn¡¯t stay.


    ¡°I have to go back,¡± she said, wiping a fat tear off her cheek.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t protect you there,¡± he replied. I couldn¡¯t look at the screen because seeing Lucas upset might break me. I needed to keep my distance from this.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need your protection anymore.¡±


    A familiar sigh came through the speaker. ¡°Will you come back?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Her tears were coming faster now. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    There was a clipped discussion on the other end of the phone. ¡°I have to hang up now, Kellen. Please think about this.¡±


    ¡°I have.¡±


    A pause. ¡°I love you.¡±


    ¡°I love you too.¡±


    The Rain siblings said goodbye to each other. Possibly for the last time.


    Holden had just risen for the night when we showed up at his doorstep. I wasn¡¯t sure if he had normal dreams, but I think he was hoping this was a bad one when he opened his apartment door to see me, Desmond and Kellen huddled together in his hallway.


    ¡°They¡¯d better be here to wish you a fond farewell to the mortal coil,¡± he said.


    ¡°Something along those lines.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Secret. You know how much I love a straightforward answer from you.¡±


    ¡°Can we talk inside for a minute?¡±


    He stepped aside, and I wasn¡¯t so distracted as to miss the glare he shot Desmond. I wasn¡¯t interested in coddling either of their egos right then. If they wanted to know who was coming out on top when it came to me, the answer would be whichever of them helped me with this plan the most.


    I wouldn¡¯t find arguments terribly endearing right then.


    ¡°Is your entourage going to be okay on their own?¡± Holden asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t put down a deposit for pet damage.¡±


    My expression said what my words did not, a very plain Shut the fuck up.


    I crossed the threshold and closed the door behind me. ¡°I¡¯m going to get right to the point.¡±


    ¡°And I was so hoping for a rousing game of charades. You¡¯re here to get bitten.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re planning to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Brigit is dead.¡± That silenced him. ¡°Mercy thought Brigit was me. Shot her in the heart.¡± I touched my own chest, fingers fanning over my sternum where my heart was beating rapidly, reminding me I was still alive. ¡°Silver bullet.¡±

 Page 50

    Holden took a step towards me, and I recoiled. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can handle any more hugs right now,¡± I explained, holding my hand up to keep him at a distance. ¡°I¡¯ve been hugged more in the last two days than I have in my entire life. Were people afraid to touch me before?¡±


    He¡¯d stopped advancing on me, but there was nothing I could do to dampen the pitying expression on his face. ¡°You don¡¯t make yourself easy to touch.¡±


    ¡°I guess now I¡¯m only human.¡± The smile I forced was the barest flicker. I didn¡¯t feel like smiling, but I¡¯d be dead before I stopped trying to make light of a bad situation. Without a joke here or there I¡¯d be crushed under the weight of my own grief.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I need your help.¡±


    ¡°Of course you do. You¡¯re not big on social calls.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m taking Kellen back.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding. Tell me you¡¯re joking.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why? Do you remember what we went through to bring her here?¡± He raked his fingers through his dark hair, pushing the waves behind his ear. His beauty sometimes took me by surprise, sneaking up when I least expected to be reminded of it. ¡°Are you out of your mind?¡±


    ¡°Probably.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t let you do that.¡±


    ¡°Not only will you let me, you¡¯re going to help me.¡±


    ¡°You are out of your mind.¡±


    He started to walk across the room, but I darted forward and grabbed his arm. Physically I didn¡¯t have the strength to stop him if he didn¡¯t want to be stopped, but he went still under my touch. ¡°You don¡¯t understand what I¡¯m trying to do.¡±


    ¡°Then explain it to me instead of throwing idiotic notions at me and expecting me to be thrilled about them.¡±


    ¡°Aubrey made a promise to me the night of the ball. He told me none of his people would harm anyone else in my world. Since then, another kid has died. I think if I take Kellen back and reunite her with her fairy boyfriend¡ªproviding I believe she¡¯s not under a spell¡ªI can use her and Aubrey¡¯s promise to make him give me my abilities back.¡±


    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know what to say to that.¡±


    ¡°Say, Secret you¡¯re a genius.¡±


    ¡°I shan¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then don¡¯t say anything. It¡¯s the best plan anyone has come up with so far that will make me who I was again and give me what I need to kill my mother.¡±


    ¡°I can give you what you need to kill her right now,¡± he said. With my hand still on his arm I was standing much too close to him for turns of phrase like that. He cupped my face and twisted his arm under mine so his other hand fell to my waist. ¡°I can save you all the hassle and all the trouble of this idiotic plan, and I can make you strong. One bite and you¡¯ll belong.¡±


    When I looked into his eyes, they¡¯d gone black. I waited for the ache in my own gums, or something to hint at the vampiric arousal I should be feeling right then, but nothing came. My heart beat faster and the skin on my neck flushed.


    He trailed his fingers down my throat and over my collarbone, making me swallow hard in response. ¡°Just one bite,¡± he repeated.


    ¡°And I belong?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tilting his head low, he traced my throbbing artery with a gentle caress of his lips. When I didn¡¯t pull away, I felt the graze of his teeth. That¡¯s when I pushed him off me.


    ¡°Belong where? Belong to you?¡±


    He seemed hurt and a little dizzy from being stopped in the act. I wondered if full-blooded vampires had something like blue balls for their fangs if they didn¡¯t get to feed when they were expecting to. Like some kind of pseudo-sexual gingivitis.


    ¡°I thought what you wanted was to not be an outcast.¡±


    ¡°Maybe once. But I don¡¯t want it like this.¡±


    ¡°You mean you don¡¯t want it with me.¡±


    ¡°This has nothing to do with us. It has nothing to do with me and Desmond either. This is about putting my life back together and then ending someone else¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°We can kill Mercy for you.¡±


    ¡°The council doesn¡¯t give a shit about killing a rogue werewolf princess.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s killed one of our wardens now.¡±


    I huffed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. ¡°Don¡¯t pull that. I know exactly how much the council cares about dead wardens. I am the council. They¡¯d only care if she was killed by one of our own without a warrant.¡±


    ¡°She was killed in public.¡±


    ¡°With no witnesses. You don¡¯t get it, do you? The council doesn¡¯t care about Mercy. And I can¡¯t make them care about her without explaining why they should. I can¡¯t tell the council to kill my mother, because then they¡¯d know what I am.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll kill her.¡±


    I softened, dropping my arms back down by my sides. Leave it to a homicidal promise to turn me into mush. I didn¡¯t go any closer to him, though, fearing he might try to bite me again. ¡°I want it to be me. And I want it to be me as I was.¡±


    ¡°Did the wolf try to talk you out of this? I¡¯m betting he loves seeing you in the daylight.¡±


    ¡°At this point, the wolf knows better than to bother.¡±


    ¡°Someone ought to try knocking some sense into you every now and then. Otherwise you¡¯ll think you¡¯re always right.¡±


    ¡°I am always right.¡±


    Holden snorted. ¡°You¡¯re something, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°I need you, Holden. I can¡¯t get through to Calliope without you, and I¡¯m not taking Kellen anywhere until I know her feelings for the fairy are genuine.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s noble of you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a monster.¡±


    ¡°No¡­not yet, anyway. But I guess I¡¯d better get my coat if we¡¯re going to make you one.¡±


    Chapter Fifty-Two


    When I¡¯d been a freak, passing through the gate to Calliope¡¯s realm had felt strange but not unpleasant. There was an otherness to it, but it was over quickly and had rarely made me uneasy. The only time I hadn¡¯t enjoyed the process was when I took Desmond with me.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect when passing through it as a human, whether it would hurt now, or if there would be other potential side effects.


    I¡¯d asked Desmond to stay out this time, because I couldn¡¯t act as an anchor for him, and with Kellen and I being relatively fragile¡ªsince we were mere mortals after all¡ªit was smarter and safer for us to travel alone with Holden and not risk a werewolf shift in the transport.


    As it turned out, there wasn¡¯t much for me to have concerned myself over. The biggest difference¡ªaside from being aware of how cold the gate was¡ªwas the smell. It smelled like fruit, or flowers. Something sweet and fresh. I was enchanted enough by the smell that I wanted to stop moving so I could bask in it awhile longer.


    With a chill, I realized that was probably the point.


    The gateway itself was a passage from one world into the next. It made sense now that humans couldn¡¯t enter it on their own, if there were natural elements meant to lead them from the path. I tightened my grip on both Holden¡¯s and Kellen¡¯s wrists so the vampire could guide us safely. I¡¯d figured out what the smell was designed to do, but I wasn¡¯t sure if Kellen would understand it to be bait.


    The look on her face was like a starving man unleashed at a buffet. She was completely enamored with the scent around us. She tried to tug her hand free of mine, but I held tight and refused to let go of Holden, praying we¡¯d make it through to the other side before anything happened.


    When we emerged into Calliope¡¯s waiting room, my ears popped like I¡¯d come down from a long flight. I was grateful to see that not only had we made it out, we¡¯d all come through together.


    The Oracle was standing next to her massive fireplace, looking none too impressed to see us. Her jet-black hair was braided and pinned around her head like a crown, and she wore a full taffeta ball gown in a deep purple color.


    ¡°I warned you,¡± she said, pacing in front of the flames. ¡°I told you it would screw everything up.¡±


    ¡°Nice to see you too, Cal.¡±


    ¡°Why do you insist on toying with your future?¡±


    I released Holden and Kellen so I could stretch my fingers and shake off the uneasy feeling I¡¯d gotten from passing into Calliope¡¯s home. It sounded like she was building up for a lecture, and considering she was an ancient immortal, I didn¡¯t think I had time to spare for a big speech tonight.


    ¡°I¡¯ve made some terrible mistakes. People have suffered because of me. People¡­ Someone I love has died because of me. You don¡¯t need to tell me what a mess I¡¯ve made. I¡¯m here to set it right.¡±


    ¡°Mistakes cannot be undone, Secret. Spills cannot be unspilled, they must be wiped clean. Blood cannot be unshed, a wound must be stitched and healed. There isn¡¯t an easy solution here. No magic snap of the fingers.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t bring Brigit back. Neither can Aubrey. Sometimes death is as final as the poets claim.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t truly realized until right then part of me had hoped something could restore Brigit to life. I¡¯d tried not to think about it, but in the back of my head a childish, innocent part of my brain thought there might be magic, something fantastic that could make things okay again.


    I twisted my hands against the fabric of my dress. ¡°I¡¯m not here to change the past. I¡¯m here to find a solution for the future.¡±


    ¡°And you think there¡¯s a way to put it in order?¡±


    ¡°Stitch up the wound, you mean? Let it heal?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She didn¡¯t look pleased to have her own words echoed back to her. ¡°What is your brilliant master plan?¡±


    ¡°Your brother made me a promise.¡±


    At this, her brows shot up. ¡°Why would he do such a thing?¡±


    ¡°Because of you. Because I told him you were at risk. He promised to keep his fairies from killing anyone else, and he failed. He owes me.¡±

 Page 51

    She didn¡¯t dispute this, further solidifying my own hopes that Aubrey¡¯s broken promise would act as a favor. Fairies were hard to figure out when it came to knowing what did and didn¡¯t constitute reparations owed.


    ¡°I also plan to bring him a gift. Something for one of his men.¡±


    Her eyes went to Holden first, making me wonder if any of the fairies at the ball had made mention of him. I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised. He¡¯d looked so good I might have gone gay for him if I hadn¡¯t already been his type. I shook my head at the Oracle and nodded towards Kellen.


    ¡°If you can assure me she isn¡¯t under an emotionally manipulative spell and the attachment she has for Brokk is real, I¡¯m going to take her back to him.¡±


    Kellen clasped her hands together, looking like a lost, needy puppy. I could have sworn her eyes grew three sizes larger.


    ¡°Brokk?¡± Calliope¡¯s nose wrinkled, and she rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh she must be under a spell to believe she¡¯s in love with that good for nothing¡ª¡±


    ¡°Can you just, I don¡¯t know¡­check her?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not enchanted,¡± Calliope replied, never moving an inch closer.


    I¡¯d expected her to wave her hands over Kellen¡¯s head or take her pulse. Maybe look deep into her eyes while reciting a strange fairy incantation. ¡°That¡¯s it? You can tell by looking at her?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s in love, that¡¯s obvious enough. You can¡¯t see it on her face?¡±


    ¡°Of course, she looks ridiculous, but that could be manipulated. Couldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°You live another six thousand years, Secret, and then you tell me what is and isn¡¯t real love. Deal? Your friend isn¡¯t under any enchantment. I¡¯d be able to smell a love inducement from here.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°You seem disappointed.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I wasn¡¯t. And Kellen was obviously overjoyed. Yet part of me still felt let down by the whole thing. I¡¯d wanted it to be showier. So far this plan of mine was going almost too easily, and it made me nervous. There was no way I¡¯d come up with a plan clever enough to have no flaws. I wasn¡¯t that smart.


    ¡°You will find as time passes the only thing you are surprised by is how so few things surprise you anymore,¡± Calliope said. It was one of those weird Oracle-isms she was inclined to toss at me. Something that didn¡¯t necessarily have anything to do with the situation at hand, but in hindsight would prove to be the perfect thing she could have said at the time.


    ¡°Why do I feel like that line should be followed by you saying surprise?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve obviously come here for me to send you and the girl through the gate, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that isn¡¯t possible.¡± She smoothed down the front of her dress where some of the taffeta had bunched up, then after a beat, added, ¡°Surprise.¡±


    And there it was. The kink in the plan. The other shoe dropping. The¡­the wrench in my gears, or whatever. The fuckup of the whole thing. ¡°What? But we went through last time, and you had no issues. Just unlock the door and let me take her in.¡±


    ¡°A human may only pass through as the¡­¡± She looked into the air, hands dancing at her sides while she tried to determine the best word to use. ¡°Companion. The companion of a fairy. You and Kellen are human. I can¡¯t let you pass.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a fairy. You be our guide.¡±


    Calliope rolled her eyes. ¡°I do not pass through. I won¡¯t set foot on the other side of the door. Not for you, not for anyone. This is my home, and I will not leave it for some fool¡¯s errand you find yourself on.¡±


    ¡°And before?¡±


    ¡°Before you weren¡¯t human. That which is other may go through at their own risk.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t I accept the same risk now that¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Rules are rules for a reason. You mustn¡¯t ask me to break them because we are friends.¡±


    ¡°Friends help friends,¡± I reminded her.


    She clucked her tongue at me. ¡°I don¡¯t need a lesson in friendship from the girl who thought I might be a murderer.¡±


    Ouch.


    ¡°Cal. Calliope, please. I need to speak to Aubrey.¡±


    With a sigh so dramatic I thought she might need a fainting couch, she flicked her dress behind her and pivoted on her heel. ¡°I will ask if he wants to speak to you, but I make no assurances. And know this. If he does approve of this scheme of yours, it won¡¯t change anything. You¡¯ve done such damage to the course of your future I don¡¯t know if I can see your way out of it anymore.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    Calliope paused in the doorway. ¡°It means once I saw a path that would lead you to remarkable happiness. Now I don¡¯t know if that path will ever exist again.¡±


    As she exited the room, the wisdom of her comment on surprises became clear. Once it would have shocked me to hear my potential happily ever after had been flushed down the toilet. Now I was only surprised to learn I¡¯d had one at all.


    Chapter Fifty-Three


    Aubrey Delacourte was cut from the same stubborn-ass cloth as his sister. He wouldn¡¯t come out of the fairy-land, and she wouldn¡¯t let us in. That left only one bizarre option for Aubrey and me to have our one-on-one.


    As it turned out, Kellen hadn¡¯t been wrong when she¡¯d thought mirrors opened a passage to alternate realities. Calliope led me to a room and shut me inside alone. When the door closed behind me, dim lights rose, and I realized the entire circular suite was lined wall-to-wall with mirrors. The floor and ceiling were both mirrored as well, making me dizzy as I walked into the center of the room.


    I was busy looking down at the reflection of myself at my feet¡ªtrying to keep my dress pulled down and my legs together¡ªso I failed to notice when I wasn¡¯t alone anymore. I looked up, and the fairy king was standing behind me.


    Letting out a squeal of surprise, I spun around, but the room was empty save for me. Except the mirrors told a different story. In each reflection of myself, the smug face of the king smiled back, obviously delighting in my shock.


    ¡°We meet again, Miss McQueen.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you call this.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯ll have to forgive our methods. The fae tend to live their lives on one plane or another, and we generally fear that to leave our favored plane may cause us to become forever trapped on a different one. Calliope and I are forbidden from being in the same reality as one another, because were I to die, she would have my throne. If we were in the same world, and were both to die¡­ Well. You humans have a word for it. Anarchy.¡±


    ¡°Fairies don¡¯t believe in anarchy?¡±


    ¡°The fae believe in rules. Always in rules.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve learned. Which is why I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Oh? I do love a good intrigue. Tell me.¡±


    ¡°The night of the ball you made me a promise.¡±


    ¡°Have I lived so short a time as to regret it already?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Maybe you should think better of the promises you make.¡±


    ¡°I make so very few.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe you should have better control over your people.¡±


    His visage grew stormy, the quick flicker of rage I¡¯d seen come over him in the past. I knew the fairy king was prone to sudden mood swings, but it was strange to see him overtaken so visibly. I didn¡¯t wait for him to regain control, I merely pressed on. ¡°Another youth was killed in my territory, the same way as the last. You assured me this wouldn¡¯t happen again, and your word has proven to be no good to me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve begun to bore me. I dislike accusations and assaults on my character.¡±


    ¡°But you do like demands. I know that.¡±


    ¡°Do you think you¡¯re in a position to demand anything from a king?¡± Briefly he became larger, the edges of his figure blurring and shifting into something monstrous and unstable. I swallowed the pit forming in my throat.


    ¡°I know I am. Don¡¯t try to intimidate me.¡±


    His outline became normal again, and he once more looked bored. ¡°Then let¡¯s get it over with. What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Two things.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not typically how a return on favors goes.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but you make so few promises, Your Majesty. The outcome of a broken one must surely hold more weight.¡± This ploy was a hell of a long shot, but I wanted to try it.


    ¡°Let me hear what these two things are. Then I will determine what weight my promises are worth.¡±


    ¡°I want to reverse our arrangement.¡±


    ¡°Reverse it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I want what you took.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re willing to return the girl? The one who was so precious to you? Who you went to such great lengths to get back?¡± His tone was snide. I could tell he was trying to make me feel selfish or guilty. If that was his game, fine. He didn¡¯t need to know how happy this would make Kellen.


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to do what it takes to make it a fair trade.¡±


    He gave a thin, thoughtful smile. ¡°Maybe you really do have royal blood in you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been told I have the cutthroat attitude of a queen,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Yes. You do.¡±


    ¡°Which leads me to my second request.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡± His face changed again, this time literally covering over with a hundred ears in all shapes and sizes, before changing back.


    ¡°That¡¯s got to be a fun trick at parties.¡±


    ¡°It loses its impact when everyone around you can do the same thing.¡±


    My palms were so sweaty from fear I worried I¡¯d damage Brigit¡¯s dress by wiping them on the material. Here went nothing. ¡°I want you to give me the fairy who has been killing people in my realm. They¡¯ve broken laws in my territory, and they will be made to suffer at my hand. I think that¡¯s only fair since it¡¯s an insult to me they were allowed to hurt those under my protection in the first place.¡±

 Page 52

    ¡°You honestly believe everyone in your city is under your protection?¡±


    In vampire logic, saying this would mean almost eight million people now belonged to me. I had enough trouble keeping three humans safe, so I was thankful fairy logic didn¡¯t have the same rule. At least as far as I knew.


    ¡°I believe anyone I didn¡¯t protect is someone I failed. I can¡¯t stop humans from killing each other, but I thought I¡¯d protected them from one of your people, and I didn¡¯t. I failed the girl who died. And for that, I want the one who killed her.¡±


    ¡°You have a cunning mind, my dear.¡±


    ¡°With due respect, every time you compliment me it makes me want to change whatever it is about me you approve of.¡±


    Aubrey smiled and stroked his chin thoughtfully. ¡°I admire your honesty, you know.¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not constantly kissing your ass like everyone else?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He dropped his hands, and a shudder rocked me. The feeling of a thousand tiny hands caressing every inch of my exposed skin made me want to recoil from him, but he was only an image. He was on the other side of the mirror, and what was touching me wasn¡¯t real.


    I gritted my teeth together and forced myself to ignore the sensations.


    ¡°Do you usually molest the people you admire?¡±


    ¡°Depends on how much they test me. One must be on the lookout for weaknesses in those who might challenge me.¡±


    I wiped my hands on my legs, trying to bat away the invisible fingers touching me. ¡°I don¡¯t want to challenge you. I have no aspirations for another throne.¡±


    ¡°Oh no? Is there not always a need for more power when you¡¯ve had a taste?¡±


    ¡°The only power I want is my own. You have it, and I¡¯m willing to make a fair trade to get it back.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well, there¡¯s the problem. If I give you your powers and my errant fae¡­what do I get?¡±


    I didn¡¯t like where he was angling this conversation. One of my biggest fears in this plan had been what would happen if Aubrey decided he was getting the short end of the stick. Sure, technically he owed me because of the broken promise, but a fairy was a fairy. If they could find a way to stay within the boundaries of their rules and still come out on top, they¡¯d do it. Right now Aubrey was trying to determine how he was going to manage it, and I didn¡¯t see an easy way to win this.


    ¡°You broke a promise.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s be clear, I will give you the fae. I have no interest in protecting someone who would willfully disobey me. It¡¯s whether or not I will restore your powers that is the question.¡±


    ¡°I gave you my power in exchange for Kellen. I¡¯m giving her back.¡±


    ¡°Direct exchanges are so¡­¡±


    ¡°Boring?¡±


    He snapped his fingers, and instantly the phantom hands vanished. ¡°Yes. Boring.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t fairness factor in at all?¡±


    ¡°Rarely.¡±


    ¡°You guys are old-fashioned¡­ How about I promise you my firstborn?¡± Considering I couldn¡¯t have children once my abilities were restored, this seemed like a safe thing to offer.


    ¡°An interesting offer, but we both know your womb is no good.¡±


    It made me sick to my stomach that he knew that without my telling him. ¡°If not that, you must have something else in mind.¡±


    ¡°Yes, something very simple.¡±


    I doubted that. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    ¡°When I agree to your terms¡­I want you to say, Thank you, Aubrey.¡±


    I froze, unable to move or breathe. When I was finally able to form words, I whispered, ¡°You want me to be in your debt.¡±


    ¡°For whatever and whenever I see fit to ask for, yes.¡±


    I wanted to say no. Desperately I wanted to scream at him, to smash all the mirrors and say no. But I had to be realistic. If I didn¡¯t give in to his request, I would be dead soon anyway. What good would it do me now to worry about what might happen at some distant point in the future. I might never have to make good on this hypothetical favor. Aubrey would live thousands of years longer than me, and time was different for the fae. A few weeks for him would be years and years for me. I might be good and dead before he thought to call on me for his request.


    That didn¡¯t mean I had to like it.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing else you¡¯d consider?¡±


    ¡°No. I want your gratitude.¡±


    ¡°And if I say thank you, you¡¯ll give me the fae and restore my powers to me immediately?¡±


    ¡°By the time you leave this room everything will be set right.¡±


    I was one hundred percent sure I would live to regret this. ¡°Okay. I agree.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°Thank you, Aubrey.¡±


    His smile was self-satisfied and ghastly. I knew this decision was going to haunt me. The fairy king was going to be a shadow of uncertainty that followed me around for the rest of my days.


    ¡°One more thing, Miss McQueen.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°This is going to hurt. Fantastically.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    I was flattened to the floor, my cheek pressed against the cold glass of the mirror. All I could see was the white of my own eye and my breath fogging my view of the room. Black fog swirled around me, dampening sound and grasping at my limbs with icy-cold fingers that couldn¡¯t find a hold. Those fingers raked nails over my flesh, and I understood what Aubrey¡¯s warning meant.


    The fog hands swept back and forth over me while a fist of it parted my lips and clawed down my throat, shredding my esophagus and stealing my ability to breathe. Everywhere I was touched my skin split and shredded, leaving me torn and exposed, every inch of my body became one raw nerve. The fog moving over me was agony. I cried when I couldn¡¯t scream, but my skin shrieked in protest from the salt poured over a fresh wound. I opened my mouth and tried to let the pain out, but I choked on the oppressive strength of the hand in my throat.


    The instant I knew the torment was too much and my human body was about to shut down, my senses dulled. The white-noise feeling I recognized as vampire healing settled over me, and the black fog vanished, leaving me cold and broken but able to breathe.


    I lay in a sticky puddle of my own blood and slowly, horribly, my skin began to knit itself back together.


    I wanted to be angry at the violation, but I couldn¡¯t feel anything other than relief. I was myself again, and that had been what I¡¯d come for. ¡°Thank you,¡± I whispered. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Chapter Fifty-Four


    My apartment felt cold.


    Not in the way I¡¯d become accustomed to with human senses, but in a completely psychological way. Only a month earlier I¡¯d sat in my living room with Kellen and Brigit while they coaxed me through my heartbreak over Lucas leaving me at the altar. Now the room was empty, and neither of them would ever sit here with me again.


    Only hours after my encounter with the fairy king, I sat on the loveseat and breathed in the smell of the room, with my senses newly restored. It smelled right, but I didn¡¯t feel any better.


    Rio poked her head out of the bathroom and said, ¡°Breow?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m all right.¡± I wasn¡¯t, but she was a cat. She didn¡¯t need to hear about my problems. She bounced across the room and up onto the couch with me, rubbing her head against my hand, demanding I pet her. I scratched her behind the ears and under the chin.


    The trilling sound of my phone came out of my purse near the door. I let out a groan and hauled my still-sore sack of bones off the couch to collect my cell.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Where the hell have you been?¡± Mercedes¡¯s voice was high with panic but still managed to convey annoyance.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    The sound she made could only be described as a coughing growl. ¡°You¡¯ve been gone for three weeks. I¡¯d say it would have to be one hell of a long story.¡±


    ¡°Cedes, I promise I¡¯ll tell you all about it. Just not tonight.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t brush this off, not this time. You need to explain why I just got an unsolved homicide across my desk for Brigit. The NYPD doesn¡¯t usually investigate the undead.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s dead-dead,¡± I replied quietly.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Brigit is gone. Mercy killed her.¡±


    ¡°Your mother Mercy?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know of any other homicidal werewolf bitches with that name.¡± I rubbed Rio¡¯s ears, focusing on the cat so I wouldn¡¯t start crying again. After my experience in the mirror room, I wasn¡¯t sure I even could cry.


    ¡°Oh, Secret¡­¡±


    ¡°Can you give me a pass now? I promise I¡¯ll tell you everything.¡±


    My front door opened, and Rio tensed as Holden came in. The cat hissed and darted under the armchair.


    ¡°Cedes, I have to go.¡±


    ¡°Secret, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°I promise I¡¯ll call you tomorrow.¡± I hung up before she could protest.


    ¡°You should probably come outside,¡± Holden said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like moving.¡±


    ¡°You should really come outside.¡±


    I climbed to my feet, my body protesting with each movement, and followed him out to the front street. Lucas was leaning against the side of a town car. Dominick stood a short distance away looking more serious than I was used to seeing him. Desmond himself was standing near the trunk, running his fingers nervously over it.


    I stared at them all warily and said nothing.


    ¡°Are you¡­back?¡± Desmond asked. He¡¯d been gone when I left Calliope¡¯s, and now I knew where he¡¯d been.


    ¡°I am.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say anything, just gave a nod.


    ¡°Is she really gone?¡± Lucas asked, referring to Kellen.


    ¡°Yes. She¡¯s where she belongs now, and I think she¡¯s happier than any of us will ever be.¡± I directed the brunt of my glare at Lucas specifically. ¡°What¡¯s in the car?¡±


    Lucas jerked his chin to Desmond, who popped the trunk and took several steps away from it. I skirted the car and looked inside. Five dead-eyed werewolf heads stared back at me. I didn¡¯t ask about their bodies.

 Page 53

    ¡°Where¡¯s Hank?¡± I asked, doing the mental math and not seeing his head in the pile.


    ¡°We assume he¡¯s with Mercy.¡±


    I closed the trunk lid and drummed my fingernails on it. I wanted to feel bad for this. I¡¯d sentenced these men to death, and without me they would still be alive. But the guilt didn¡¯t come. I¡¯d made a call Lucas should have made on his own. The men in that trunk represented more of a risk to Lucas¡¯s pack than they had to me personally.


    ¡°Well done,¡± I said.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s what you¡¯re going to say to me?¡± Lucas asked, his cheeks flushing with rage.


    ¡°Do you want me to high-five you?¡±


    ¡°I want you to admit I¡¯ve done something worthy of your forgiveness.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°No. You¡¯ve done what a good king needed to do.¡±


    ¡°You asked for this.¡±


    ¡°And I shouldn¡¯t have needed to. Mercy¡¯s pack was a threat to you. Don¡¯t kid yourself that you did this for me. You just let me make the hard call for you.¡±


    ¡°I killed them for you.¡±


    ¡°How romantic.¡±


    Lucas threw his hands in the air in a familiar why, God, why gesture. But I no longer cared if I tested his patience. In fact, I no longer cared what Lucas thought of me at all.


    ¡°You¡ª¡±


    Desmond interrupted him this time. ¡°Lucas, shut up. She¡¯s right. You should have taken action against them. That¡¯s your job, not a favor you¡¯re doing for her. You talk about being a king and making the tough calls? This was a call for you to make, and she did it for you. So just shut up.¡±


    Lucas looked ready to blow. He snapped his fingers at Dominick, who seemed disgusted but followed with the king faithfully. Lucas paused by the passenger door of the car. ¡°You should know, while you were busy shipping my sister away, your mother left. She saw what we did and she¡¯s gone.¡±


    Even after he got into the car, I continued to stare at the place where he¡¯d been standing. All I could think was He let this happen on purpose. Followed shortly by, I did all this for nothing. I took two steps back and sat on the steps leading down to my apartment. The car pulled away, and I was left alone with Desmond and Holden once more.


    ¡°She¡¯s gone,¡± I said, mostly to myself.


    ¡°But you¡¯re you again,¡± Holden reminded me. Until then he¡¯d been waiting patiently off to the side. Now he was standing directly behind me. ¡°The threat is over.¡±


    I jerked my shoulder away from his touch and got to my feet. ¡°It¡¯s not over. The threat won¡¯t be over until she¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll find her.¡±


    I looked from Holden to Desmond, then let out a labored sigh. ¡°I thought this would do it. I thought I¡¯d finally be done with her.¡±


    Holden and Desmond exchanged a glance, and I was betting neither of them knew what they should say to me. How could they? I didn¡¯t know if there was anything anyone could say to make me feel hopeful right then.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fill your mind with one werewolf now, my dear,¡± came a voice from the stairs below me.


    I pedaled backwards, almost tripping as Sig materialized out of the small landing and into the stairwell. He was carrying a glass aquarium, which he handed to me when we were on even footing at the top of the stairs. ¡°I believe this is for you.¡±


    Inside the tank was a frog giving me a clearly disapproving glare.


    On top of the tank was a note that read, For a promise broken ¡ª A. So this little bugger was the cause of so many problems? I¡¯d expected to be given the fairy in his or her natural form. I guess Aubrey had some fun with it first. Keaty was going to be thrilled when I dropped this off at his office.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I told Sig. ¡°I think?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet. I haven¡¯t come with good news.¡± He leaned close and sniffed the air around me. ¡°But I¡¯m pleased to see you may once again be in a position to survive.¡±


    ¡°Survive?¡±


    He patted my cheek gently. ¡°How soon the memory of things fade in youth.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Your mother is the least of your problems now.¡±


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Desmond asked.


    ¡°Fuck me,¡± Holden answered, obviously coming to a conclusion I wasn¡¯t able to reach. ¡°The lifeline lock.¡±


    ¡°The¡­¡± My eyes widened. Oh Jesus. In Brigit¡¯s passing, I¡¯d been so caught up in losing my friend I hadn¡¯t thought of the bigger consequences. Brigit had stood up for me, using her life as the tether that kept Alexandre Peyton bound. The one person other than my mother who would want me dead the most.


    Because of me he¡¯d been locked away for over a year, starved and cuffed in silver. The council had determined his punishment needed an end date, so we¡¯d locked his door with Brigit¡¯s blood. Now that Brigit was dead¡­


    ¡°The door is open,¡± I said at last.


    ¡°Yes. Alexandre is free,¡± Sig replied.


    ¡°And still within the council?¡± I asked hopefully.


    ¡°You believe I¡¯d be here if you were so lucky?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He crossed his arms and frowned, showing more emotion than I was used to seeing from him. ¡°Peyton is gone.¡±