Woodrow gives me a sly look. “You don’t say.”
“I’ll even put it in writing for you.”
He chuckles. “All right, my prince. I’ll keep an eye out at reception.”
“And I’ll see you there.”
With Woodrow in line, I march back to reception. The place is packed. Woodrow arrives a minute later, still smelling of cigarette smoke. He scans the room. “I wonder why everyone’s still here? You’ve already been announced.”
“It’s the new protocol, obviously.”
In truth, it’s probably because my people waiting for Myla to get turned away. I wouldn’t be surprised if Adair sold tickets. I wait by the back wall, my pulse speeding.
Any minute now.
Adair steps up and grips my elbow. Again, with the grabbing. “I have such an interesting thing to show you, my love. But not here. It’s across the ballroom.”
In other words, she wants me away from the reception room and Myla.
One by one, I pluck Adair’s fingers off my elbow. Again. “No.”
Adair stomps away. But then a steady stream of her friends approach me instead. All seem to have very interesting things to show me somewhere else. I decide to politely ignore them.
“My prince, did you know there’s something very important to see at the other side of the ballroom?” That’s Gianna. To her credit, the girl looks terrified.
And I keep staring at the door.
“Ouch, I broke my ankle. Can you escort me to the physician’s cabin?” That’s Lady Keisha, another friend of Adair’s.
I don’t reply.
“My prince, did you know there might be a demon in the ladies bathroom?” It’s Lady Nita’s turn. One guess who she hangs out with.
Sometimes, being royal means ignoring people who are exceptionally irritating. So that’s what I continue to do. This is the last time I’ll see Myla, possibly for months.
No way I am missing this.
At last, a trumpet sounds. Woodrow steps forward. “Miss Cecilia Frederickson, escort to Mister Ezekiel Ryder.”
Myla’s friend sashays into the reception room, meets up with Zeke and leaves for the ballroom.
Another trumpet blast follows. Adrenaline speeds through me. Woodrow calls out again. “Miss Myla Lewis without escort.”
And finally, she’s here. Myla steps through the doorway, looking stunning in a red gown. It hugs her hourglass figure and sets off the natural color of her lips. I ache to taste her. Our gazes meet. Her brown eyes are nothing less than hypnotic. We must stare for a while, because the next thing I know, the trumpet blares once again.
“Miss Myla Lewis without escort.”
The words finally register. Without escort? Woodrow expects her to walk into the ballroom on her own. That is tradition, after all. However, considering my new Purgatory Prerogative, old traditions simply won’t suffice. I step forward and offer Myla my arm.
Everyone gasps in shock. It’s a most satisfying sound.
My girl grins while she takes my arm. Feeling her touch again is grounding. A part of me that was lost now returns. Together, we step into the ballroom.
“I think we shocked your nobility,” whispers Myla.
“They need to be shocked every so often; keeps them on their toes.” I nod toward the dance floor. “Speaking of which…”
Myla scans the dancing nobles and pales. Everyone is performing one of our traditional jigs. I don’t blame her for finding it less than attractive. I’ve always thought this song should be entitled, The Get This Spider Out Of My Shirt Polka.
“I don’t know that dance, Lincoln. I’ll sit this one out.”
“Let’s see what we can do about that.” I snap my fingers at the violinist. The musician glances in my direction. I make a slicing motion across my throat. The polka transforms into a sultry tune.
“Ah, a slow dance.” I lead Myla toward the floor. “Anyone can do that.”
She smirks. “That’s a neat little trick.”
I arch my brows. “It’s good to be the Prince.” We reach the center of the dance floor. “Shall we?” Bit by bit, I guide her hands around my neck. The weight of her touch makes me shiver. Myla weaves her fingers through my hair. I glide my fingertips down her spine, then rest my hands at her waist. We’re now an arm’s length apart, our bodies swaying to the slow tune. The rest of the room fades away. In all the after-realms, there’s only me and Myla.
Leaning in, I brush my nose by her ear. “I have a secret for you,” I say in a low voice.
“Really? What is it?”
“I can’t whisper it when you’re all the way over there. Come closer.”
Myla steps closer. Only a few inches separate us.
“How’s this?” she asks.
“Closer.”
At last, Myla fully presses her body against mine. We freeze. Energy ricochets between us. I stroke the small of Myla’s back. Once more, we sway to the music.
Myla tilts her head. “And now?”
I lean in once again and whisper. “A girl like you … In a dress like that … Should always dance this close.”
Myla blushes. “I’m not sure the thrax agree, Lincoln.”
I inspect the nearby faces. Adair and her friends are all dance a few yards away while taking care to glare at my girl. It’s making Myla uncomfortable. Not acceptable. Options to get rid of them all appear in my mind. Most involve finding another set of reperio demons. I lean in and whisper once more. “Time to start causing trouble, don’t you–”
“Prince Lincoln!” It’s Gianna again. “It’s urgent! A demon patrol’s under ambush!” Gianna grabs my hand, trying to yank me from the dance floor. I make a mental note to have some proper training given on How To Respect The Royal Personal Space.
Even worse, it’s clear that Adair and her friends are trying yet again to ruin my night with Myla. Demon patrols under ambush are supported by a back-up team in the field. The High Prince doesn’t get pulled from a gala ballroom. The team would be dead before I hit the Earth’s surface. Still, this could be an opportunity.
I can use this situation as an excuse to leave. After that, I shall find a way to spring Myla from the ball, and then?
It’s time to start causing trouble.
Gianna’s dancing partner, Aldo, steps up to our group. “If it pleases your Highness, I’ll keep the young lady company tonight.”
“Thank you, Aldo.” I turn to Myla. “If the patrol’s under attack, I’ll be unable to return. Making the trip to Earth takes some time.”
“I understand,” says Myla solemnly. “Protect your people, of course.”
I leave the room with Gianna, excited for my new plan.
Trouble, here we come.
30
Once I leave the ballroom, I take care to stash my crown behind an obliging bookcase. I plan on spending a fun evening with Myla. Crowns are far too much hassle. After sneaking out a side door, I make the long trek to the back of the mansion. My thoughts segue to scheming mode.
To begin with, there’s Myla.
Then I have myself, newly sprung from an evening that’s the definition of claustrophobic.
So question becomes, how do I separate one gorgeous future queen from a ballroom of nincompoops … and still have an evening of joy left over?
There’s only one solution. A diversion.
As I close in on the hedgerow maze, I brainstorm different distractions that could allow me to spring Myla from the ballroom. Clearly, Myla’s best exit is via the French doors lining the back wall. I could knock on the window and wave her over, but that lacks a certain level of romance, not to mention that it’s too obvious. I want to lose Adair, not have her trail me all evening.
No, far better would be to fetch Nightshade. Once here, Night can perform her trick with doorknobs, break into the Ryder mansion, and cause a general ruckus. At that point, luring Myla out a back door will be far more successful.
I close in on the line of French doors from outside the Ryd
er mansion. My plans are for nothing.
Myla’s already here.
For some reason, she’s sitting alone on a bench, mumbling to herself. Moonlight plays off her lovely profile, making her seem more a faerie apparition than a regular girl.
Then Myla stands up, frowns, and stomps the bench into kindling.
What a woman.
I step closer. “Nice kick,” I proclaim.
Myla stares at me and gasps.
“Hello, Myla.”
Myla still wears her ‘gasping in shock’ face. I wonder if I’ve interrupted something important. Perhaps she needs to smash more benches.
Then Myla’s surprise morphs into a wide smile. Lovely.
“Shouldn’t you be on Earth right now?” she asks.
“Why ever would I do that?” I meet her grin with one of my own. “That was the worst fake emergency I’ve ever seen.”
Leaning back, I scan her appearance. Closer up, it’s clear that my girl’s missing a huge swath of gown. No doubt, this is the work of Adair and her pals. Mother asked them to care for Myla specifically so they could make my girl feel welcome. Clearly, they failed in flying colors. It will be manners lessons for the group of them, I’ll wager. Those girls better stock up on tissues.
“Looks like there was more to their master plan, though,” I declare. “I’ll be honest. I didn’t see that coming. Rather elaborate scheme, don’t you think?” The way Myla stands, I can make out the profile of her bare legs in the moonlight. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“No fair peeking.” Myla reaches behind her, pulling the open back of her dress together. She has nothing to be ashamed of, however. I hate that Adair has made her uncomfortable.
“They did us a favor, you know.” I tap my temple. “That’s why I played along.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m so sure.”
“Think about it. We could have spent a few hours at the ball, irritating certain people. But this way, we can be alone.” I step closer. “It’ll be some time before they figure out I’m not on Earth.” I can’t help the mischievous grin that crosses my face. “Want to get in trouble?”
For a moment, I’m sure Myla’s about to say yes. Energy and life pour off her in waves. Then she stares at the ground. “I’m not going anywhere dressed like this, except home.”
Perhaps it’s the dress that bothers her? I purse my lips, thinking. This doesn’t have to be a problem.
“So, if you had something to wear, you’d be interested in a little stroll?” I ask.
“I would.” She gives me a look that says, but that’s impossible.
Leaning forward, I pull my velvet tunic over my head. Problem solved. “This should work fine.”
“What?” She pokes at the garment. “You want me to wear that?”
“Why not? You’ll be covered.” I wink. “Mostly.” I waggle the tunic.
Take this. You know you want to.
Myla screws up her mouth onto one side of her face. I’m wearing her down and it’s glorious. “Where would I change?” she asks.
“How about behind the hedges?” I toss her the tunic; she catches it with ease. Using baby steps, I then slowly turn around. Once my back is to her, I speak again. “I promise not to peek.”
What follows are the soft sounds of footsteps on grass as Myla jogs into the hedgerow maze. The rustle of fabric comes next as she changes. I can’t help but notice how she isn’t leaving the maze yet. At last, she calls out.
“I’m feeling a bit exposed, Lincoln.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” Mostly because I’ll ensure you aren’t the only one who’s exposed. I whip off my chain mail and jerkin. Now I’ll be bare chested, just as Myla shows her bare legs.
My girl tiptoes past the line of hedges. She eyes my new appearance and freezes. Her gaze slowly rakes across my chest and lingers by my waistline. Not many men can pull off wearing black leather pants and nothing else. Fortunately, that happens to be one of my superpowers.
“Now we’re both a bit exposed,” I say.
Myla shifts her weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why not? I won’t return to the ball.” To emphasize the point, I kick at the pile of chain mail with my bare foot. “Plus, this stuff weighs a ton.” I fold my arms across my chest. “And I was promised some trouble, remember?”
Myla performs an exaggerated bow. “Alright, you got me. Where to?”
“I have a specific spot in mind.” Stepping forward, I lace my fingers with hers. It feels beyond wonderful to touch her again. “Let’s go.”
There’s no question where we’re off to. I’ve spent many hours contemplating the night Myla leaped out of the lake, covered in Doxy demons and laughing. How many times have I worshiped that vision of my lovely queen framed by water? Now is my chance to see it live once more. Guiding Myla through the paths, I quickly lead us to the maze’s center. Here stands a fountain which will suit my purpose perfectly, especially since the water’s shut off. Since the liquid is calm, it resembles the lake that still haunts me.
With gentle movements, I lead Myla to sit onto the fountain’s edge. Then I step back. Before me is nothing less than a dream come to life.
“There.” I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my leather pants. “That’s how you looked when I first saw you by the lake.”
Myla scratches her cheek. “So, that’s why you brought me here?” The way she asks the question, it’s not a ringing endorsement. And yes, this isn’t exactly classic first date activity. It’s just … when it comes to Myla, none of the rules seem to apply.
“Well, I think about that night all the time,” I explain. “Maybe too much.” I shoot her a shy smile. “That sounds kind of crazy, doesn’t it?”
“Depends.” She tilts her head. “What’s the interest?”
“It’s a bit of a story, actually. I was chasing down some doxy demons at the Ryder stables. I thought you were another thrax, tracking the same pack.”
She mock-frowns. “Another guy, of course.”
I set my hand on my chest. “Guilty as charged.” I move nearer. Myla’s scent surrounds me. “You disappeared into the water. I thought you’d be drowned, but you came out fighting.” I stand before her, setting my palms onto her bare knees. We’ve never been this intimate before. Even so, it feels natural. Right.
With soft pressure, I guide her legs apart. Myla lets out a low moan. “You were fighting like a demon yourself, eyes glowing red in the darkness. And you were laughing.” I press my firm body against her softness. My heart stutters. Myla’s breath hitches.
“I saw you were a woman, a warrior.” I lean in until our lips almost touch. “A force of nature. From that day on, I’ve thought of you, that night, and the water.”
She takes in a long and shaky breath. Then she speaks two words in a low alto. “I understand.” And in that short statement, I know what she means. We’ve both changed each other in deep ways.
I speak from my soul. “Good.”
Our mouths meet in a slow kiss. As I taste her, Myla loops her arms about my bare shoulders. I trace my fingertips along the hem of her tunic. She shivers.
A thin bolt of lightning hits the ground nearby. Thunder rumbles. Myla breaks the kiss. “Did you see that?”
I follow her gaze and indeed, lightning hit not far from this very spot. This is now the third hit while Myla and I have kissed to the backdrop of a flash storm. Definitely odd.
Tilting my head, I consider the situation. Perhaps we should stop kissing and step apart. The moment the thought crosses my mind, I crush it with a vengeance.
“No.” I kiss a line up Myla’s neck. She moans again. I set my teeth onto her earlobe, just a bit.
“But Lincoln, aren’t you worried about the–”
Leaning back, I frame her beloved face with my fingertips. “No.” I lock with her gaze, trying to find the words for this moment. A dozen bolts of lightning could strike and I still wouldn’t want us to stop. I
nstead, I move my mouth closer to hers once more. “Kiss me, Myla.”
Sure enough, Myla leans in. We kiss, deep and fierce. Her body rocks against mine. The connection between is feels natural. Inevitable. Desire fires through me.
Myla slips off the fountain, looks down, and starts pulling off her tunic.
Then she pauses, trembling. That sense of fire between us cools to something else.
Looking more closely, I can see what’s changed. Myla’s eyes now flare red. As a self-taught expert on all things Myla, that means her demonic side is active, either lust or wrath. In this case, it’s lust. Myla’s so confident on the battlefield, it never occurred to me that she wouldn’t be as comfortable with intimacy.
Myla drops her grip on the tunic and stares at the ground.
I’m fairly certain what’s going on, but I want Myla to tell me in her own words. Moving slowly, I set my hand on her arm. “What’s wrong, Myla?”
Myla nibbles on her lower lip while keeping her gaze locked on the earth. Avoiding my gaze? This isn’t my girl. She’s feeling overwhelmed. But she doesn’t need to experience that alone.
I’m here now.
Setting my knuckle under her chin, I try lifting her gaze to mine. My girl won’t budge.
“That’s not a good idea, Lincoln.”
Twisting, I look directly into Myla’s sweet face. “Your eyes are changing. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s my Furor lust side.” Her voice shakes. “I’ve only ever felt wrath before.”
I link my fingers with hers once more. “Let’s take it slowly, then. We have all the time in the world.”
She exhales. “Yeah, that would be good.”
Tilting my head, I listen for any sign of intruders. We’re still alone. “Especially since they haven’t sent out a search party yet.” I grin. “Shall we find another way to cause trouble?”
“Sure.” She gives my fingers a squeeze. “How about exploring more of the maze?”
I kiss the tip of her nose, just because I can. “That is a great idea.”
Lincoln Page 27
