by Eve Langlais
“Would you believe never?”
“Titan wouldn’t have a remedy if it never happened. And he’s only been here a month.”
“It happens from time to time. Depends on how hard I push myself. Of late, because of the threats, I’ve been expending more than usual.” He shrugged.
“The good king putting his people ahead of himself.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot. You should never give more than you can handle.”
“I handled it just fine. We lived.”
“And had there been one more bad guy left, you’d be dead.”
“Then it’s a good thing I had you.”
“Exactly. Now if only I had a clone.”
“I thought you had a twin brother.”
She glared at him. “We are not the same person.”
His lips quirked. “A good thing. I don’t think the world can handle two of you.”
“Meaning what?”
“You’re an interesting lady.”
“Don’t call me lady,” she grumbled, grabbing for the last strip of bacon and giving him a defiant glare. She had no idea how appealing she appeared.
A nudge by his side had him lifting his arm that Sachi might step lightly into his lap, pacing over his thighs, purring.
“I think your cat is happy you’re alive.”
“Actually, she’s here for this.” He gave Sachi a piece of bacon.
Casey’s eyes almost fell out of her head. “I can’t believe you gave the cat a piece!”
“That cat earned it. She’s the reason I began forming the shield before the bomb went off.”
“Then you should give her a bigger piece.” Casey handed over the three-quarter strip she had left. Sachi gave her a regal regard before grabbing the piece and bolting.
“Have you tried the waffle dipped in the syrup?”
“I’ve dipped everything in syrup at this point.” She rolled her eyes. “And had all the bacon yesterday.”
He froze, the piece halfway to his mouth, dripping syrup on the blanket over his lap. “Yesterday? How long was I asleep?”
“A day and a half.”
“What?” He flung back the blanket, suddenly awash in worry over just about everything.
“Get your ass back over here.”
“I need to check.”
“On what? The castle is fine. The city is fine. The princess is getting to be a fine shot with a dagger.”
He slouched on the edge of the bed. “Meaning no one needs me.” Funny how there were days he wished for it. Wished for a simpler time when he was only responsible for himself.
“Oh, they need you all right. You should see them come knocking and whining because they need your help with everything.”
“And then do what they want anyhow.” He shook his head but slid his legs back under the blankets. Mostly because he realized he needed more food and drink if he wanted to make it out of this room and not take a header down the stairs.
He poured some jelly into a glass of cream. Mixed it until it turned pink. Casey eyed him then did the same. At the taste, she groaned.
While in his bed.
A good thing the thick blankets were scrunched in his lap. It was more than a weakened king could handle.
“How did you make a shield?” she asked after guzzling the sweet and frothy concoction.
“How do you step into shadow?”
“By wishing no one could see me.”
He blinked. “That’s it?”
“When I was little, being noticed wasn’t a good thing. The teachers I had after the Creche weren’t the most nurturing kind. And I wasn’t the most obedient child.”
“They beat you.”
“Among other things. There are many ways to punish, and before I was Charlie’s age, I’d suffered most of them. Cam, too, mostly because of me. They say necessity breeds skill.”
“Power is inherent.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. All I know is when I needed to hide, the shadows welcomed me.”
“A handy skill.”
“So is making shields out of nothing.” The angle of her head had her regarding him quizzically. “Those people in the basement, they were sent to kill you.”
“Rodoh was sent to kill me. The others in the group were apparently just for cover.” He shook his head, glad to see it didn’t ring with pain.
“Why would someone want to blow you into chunks?”
“I think a better question is, how did they agree to get anyone to do that in the first place?”
“It is rather insane.”
“Yes.”
“Is the King of Sapphire insane??”
He frowned. “No, he’s actually quite savvy. At least he was the last time we met.” Usually in secret so none of the Enclave around him knew he was consorting with their enemy.
“Then it’s probably not from him.”
“Could be someone in his court,” he mused aloud.
“To what advantage? You said they don’t care about the marshes.”
“Could be they’re lying.”
“Or someone is framing Sapphire.”
“Which again begs the question, to what purpose? If someone were framing Sapphire, shouldn’t the suicide squad have said something to us?”
He could see her pondering the question seriously. It pleased him she’d not scoffed.
“That crew was stripped of all identifying marks. Nothing in their garments or weapons indicated anything other than the Marshlands.”
“Yet they’re not from here.” The certainty wouldn’t be shaken.
“That’s not entirely correct.”
“Meaning?”
“What would you say your genetic genealogy savvy level is?”
“My what? If you’re talking breeding, then stop, because we don’t practice it.”
“You don’t. The underworld in your city does.”
He blinked at her. “What?”
“As if you didn’t know. There’s a thriving market that tracks lineage and genetics. Betrothals and partnering contracts are a business.”
“I did not know. Why does this concern the intruders?”
“Because one of them, the lizard one, is half marsh citizen. And the furry female was possibly from Emerald. We’ve seen that Deviant gene in the Wastelands.”
“I don’t see how this helps us.”
“It doesn’t yet.”
He rubbed at his rough jaw. “In other words, all that effort and we didn’t learn a damned thing.”
“On the contrary, we learned they are fanatical in their quest to remove you. That they are capable of creating breeds of human never before seen. And will probably try to kill you again given they weren’t the only team sent out.”
“What?” He almost dumped the tray when he shifted.
“The other group never made it to the city. They exploded out in the Marshes.”
“How did I not know this?”
“Word came in while you napping.”
“Not by choice,” he grumbled. “How many were hurt?”
“None. It would seem the second bomb carrier accidentally went off. The only damage was to some trees. In what Titan claims is good news, the explosion apparently weakened the ground enough that it caved in, creating a new lake in the area by draining the surrounding marsh. Word is they’ll be able to use the new land for planting crops.”
“Crops are good. Another bomb, bad.” He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall behind his bed. “There could be others.”
“Which is why the city is locked down. People coming in need to be verified. The walls and waterways are being watched.”
“In other words, under control.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m going to shower.” He lurched from the bed and made it to the shower before he realized she followed. “Joining me?”
“You’d fall over trying,” she quipped.
“I might surprise you,” he grumbled, turning his face into the heat of the w
ater.
“I have to go out for a bit, but I’ve got Anita coming by with Charlie after lunch. Until then, you’ll have a pair of guards inside and outside.”
“Where’s Titan?”
“He’s busy.”
He eyed her. “Busy how? The pair of you are up to something.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your face says it all.”
Her features smoothed. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
He exited the shower, very wet and feeling more in control of himself. He snared a towel and stalked to Casey. She held her ground.
“I’m coming.”
“No, you’re not.”
“How will you stop me?” He had nothing but himself to intimidate her. No power of the mind. No magic to pin her to a wall and make her answer. Just him, in the nude.
Apparently, it had the power to make a fearless woman flee.
Chapter 9
The bastard found the one thing to send her running. Earlier than planned, too. She’d meant to escort the king down to the tunnels, let him poke around the ruins, then knock him out for another nap after lunch. A perfect plan that would allow her to head off and listen to the rumors of the undercity while Anita covered the princess and Titan kept an eye on Roark.
Wouldn’t you know, things didn’t go as planned. In her defense, she’d not expected to be affected by the view of him naked. She’d been raised in places that didn’t afford privacy. She saw cocks just about every day. Big fucking deal.
Big.
Yeah.
That about described him. It left her aching for something she shouldn’t want. Not with him. A king.
The realization she lusted after him in spite of his ridiculous title sent her fleeing, leaving him unprotected. Titan wasn’t supposed to take over until lunch. Surely Roark would be smart and remain in the room rather than risk himself.
Never mind what his citizens claimed; he was dumber than a wasteland rock. It wasn’t long before she heard people humming about the king. Up and about after saving the castle from a bomb planted in the basement. A partial truth that made him out to be a hero. Not the first time he’d done something heroic, apparently.
Ever since the explosion that left him weaker than a newborn, she’d been hearing of Roark’s deeds. Every time she turned around she got a new praise or story of his epic nature. Feats of his courage. His compassion. His utter ruthlessness, which the citizens in his city absolutely loved. There was a rabid loyalty to the man that, at times, felt contagious because she also found herself drawn to him. She’d seen him act and couldn’t help but be impressed.
The things he’d accomplished. She couldn’t deny the man was doing great things. It didn’t help her unseemly lust for him.
At lunch, Casey ate quickly, her task more about feeding herself than anything. The princess was in her room taking lessons with Anita. However, Casey had arranged to add a few children and gotten her hands on some games to keep them entertained. Someone had offered to set up a screen for something they called a movie, a picture book that played out visually. She declined because in Emerald she recalled that type of technology remained banned, but for a good reason. It was said the Ancients used to have an addiction to stories played out on screen. The very idea baffled. Why would she want to sit staring at something for hours on end?
With the princess handled, she now had a few hours to hunt down information. She finished her plate and rose as Roark appeared, still looking pale, but determined. Fucking idiot. He wasn’t strong enough to be out here. What if his enemies saw and attacked? He had no magic. Nothing to defend himself.
As if he heard her mental chastising, his gaze slewed in her direction. She glared as she pointed to the ceiling. He smirked and shook his head. She offered him a rude gesture in reply. He outright laughed.
Titan tapped Roark lightly on the shoulder, and Roark turned away, which was when she slid into shadow, knowing she had to do better than hide in the dark places. She had to remain out of Roark’s line of sight. The last thing she wanted was for the king to follow her to the undercity. She slunk out of the dining room and quickly made her way out of the castle. She had a bit of trouble crossing the bridge with the sun overhead, but once past, she had no issues moving through the many streets, following the directions she’d been given by one of the castle servants.
Interesting how Roark thought he knew everything about his city but seemed ignorant of the fact it had a layer hidden from him. One that skirted the laws he’d made on breeding.
The king thought anyone should procreate. But some people remained old-fashioned and wanted to ensure the strain they’d be bringing into their bloodlines was pure. Those most concerned with lineage might know of a place that encouraged the creation of hybrids, such as Gus from the dungeon.
The nondescript building she stopped across from appeared to be made of plastered mud over stone remains. No sign hung above its door, not even a number to distinguish it. Yet it matched her information.
Sticking to the shadows allowed her to hide and it wasn’t long before the door opened. She entered a place that did not match its exterior. The room was more modern than the outside, the floor formed from a glossy composite. The walls were pale but mirror-like. A desk—made from carvings of a male and female body—rose from the floor, arching and curving to hold up a rounded glass top. A man sat behind the strange furniture and greeted the person who’d entered before her.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I don’t need one.” Hands pushed back a hood.
Only then did she recognize the king.
The man behind the desk paled. “Your Majesty does us great honor.”
“Your Majesty wants to see the person in charge of this place. Now.” Roark lowered his voice.
Casey stepped closer, sticking to the shadows, doubting he could see her without his magic. When the man from the desk ran from the room, she went to skirt the table, only to jolt as Roark’s arm shot out and grabbed her.
“I don’t think so. What is this place?”
She played dumb. “You tell me.”
“I followed you.”
“After I told you not to.” Exasperation huffed the statement.
“I don’t like secrets.”
“No one does. Which is why I’m here. I planned to ferret some out. Guess that won’t be happening now.” She rolled her eyes.
“If you didn’t want your plan screwed with, then perhaps you should have told me about it.”
“Told you about the underworld you failed to notice?”
“I noticed it,” he growled. “But I chose to leave it alone because, by acknowledging it, I have to do something.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
“Only if people are unwilling.”
“Fine, then I don’t like it.” He grimaced at the bland space. “Procreation should be about more than the mix of genes.”
“Don’t tell me you believe in love?” She couldn’t help an incredulous note.
“Don’t tell me you don’t.”
Did she? She’d never actually thought about it.
The man returned, flushed and nervous. “Um, the ah, will see you.”
“You might as well give me their name.” Roark stared at the man.
Casey noticed he didn’t use the greeter’s name. Probably because he still couldn’t read minds. His intent gaze proved enough cajolement.
“Our patrons know him as the Earl of Ova.”
“Not just breaking my laws but giving himself rank, too.” Roark did not sound pleased.
“Reminds me of someone else I know,” she muttered.
“Not the same,” was his terse reply as they were led to a second office.
The walls of the space were an indeterminate color under all the creeping vines in a riot of greens and the flowers blooming in every shade of pink imaginable. The male behind the more traditional desk proved younger than e
xpected for a self-styled earl with only hints of gray at the temples. He wore formal attire comprised of a sleeveless tunic down to mid-thigh and belted, pantaloons tight at the ankles, and sandals. His blond hair was in ringlets around his head. His eyes a vivid blue.
A handsome man with a dimple when he smiled. “Your Majesty, you do me great honor.” He even sketched a deep and graceful bow.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Roark said.
“We haven’t, and I am most honored you’ve chosen to seek me out.” The Earl twirled his hand in a half bow. “I am Raphael.”
“The guy outside called you the Earl of Ova,” Casey retorted, moving to flank the king while watching the vines at her back. Had one of them moved?
“Just a playful title that amuses those who need my services.”
“Your services are why I’m here.” Roark crossed his arms. “I know you’re dabbling in genetic pairings.”
Raphael kept his smile low key. “That would be illegal. I provide a matchmaking service, allowing lonely individuals that might have common interests a method of meeting each other.”
She almost snickered at the spin the self-appointed earl put on it.
Roark might have said many things at that point, but the bright blue eyes turned in her direction. Eyed her up and down and then said, “Don’t tell me this is the Casey I’ve heard about. You are much more ravishing than the pictures I’ve seen.”
That ruined any pleasure at his compliment. “What pictures?”
“The ones taken. For my records, of course. Everyone in the city is documented. Never know when I’ll come across someone who might be perfect for you.” Was it her, or was there an implicit threat in those words?
“Everyone?” Roark repeated.
“Just about.”
“So if I said I wanted to find a female with a few furry tails or perhaps someone with a bit of demon in his bloodline…”
Raphael lost his smile. “We don’t deal in that kind of deviancy.”
“Don’t tell me you have a line,” Roark scoffed.
“While some level of movement from the baseline is normal, the types of things you had in your dungeon…” Raphael shook his head. “Those weren’t people.”
