by K. M. Shea
I tried to keep my inner tirade from showing on my face as I nodded and rearranged my gown. “In that case, I’m glad you could come.”
“Your mansion is beautiful—and I enjoy the energy of your party,” Angstra laughed.
“I watched some of the wizards join in…what was it called? Karaoke?” Manith looked to King Solis for support.
A smile briefly twitched at King Solis’s lips. “I believe that is what the great matron of House Medeis said, yes.”
“Fascinating,” Manith said. “I’ve never seen a Court so aware of the human world.”
“It’s not that we’re aware as much as it’s my world, too, since I’m half human,” I said.
“Ahh yes, King Solis told us of your story,” Angstra said. “It must have been shocking to be made queen.”
“In more ways than one, yes,” I nodded.
Although Manith and Angstra seemed pretty nice—especially for fae—I was keeping a bit of my guard up as I glanced at King Solis.
He called them acquaintances, not friends…after he’d just confirmed that we were friends.
I was probably overthinking it, but I hadn’t survived this long among the fae by being impulsive in my friendships.
“King Solis also told us you were recently married,” Manith said.
“Yes. I married Consort Rigel the day of my crowning,” I said.
“He seems like an unusual—and remarkable—choice,” Angstra said.
“You’ve heard of him, then?” I asked.
Angstra glanced at Manith, her eyes a little wide with panic in them.
That’s something to remember; even out in the Mid-Atlantic states they know who the Wraith is.
I couldn’t help the little smirk that played on my lips. “We have the most romantic love story ever! The first time we set eyes on each other, he tried to kill me.”
I laughed as Angstra and Manith clutched each other in apparent horror. Even King Solis froze and seemed shocked.
That was fun—I’ll have to do it again!
I tapped my thigh, patting my skirts. “Best meet-cute story ever!”
“I’m glad you think so.”
I almost jumped out of my high heels when I heard Rigel purr behind me, but was able to course correct at the last moment and just wobbled instead.
“Darling,” I said. “Hello. Hi.”
I managed not to ask him the question that burned in my heart.
What possessed him to come out here?!
After greeting the guests Rigel had gone off and done his own thing—which pretty much summed up our relationship. He did whatever he wanted and didn’t kill me, and I was free to muck up all the stupid political games the fae played as I wished.
“Your father is looking for you,” Rigel said.
“So?”
“He’s concerned.”
Yeah, for his meal ticket.
I sighed. “I suppose I should go back inside. Indigo is probably looking for me by now anyway, and if Chase finds out Lord Linus left my side he’ll never take another day off again. It was a pleasure to meet you Angstra, Manith. I’ll see you around, King Solis?”
“Most assuredly, Queen Leila. In fact, let me accompany you. I was hoping to see if I might speak with the Paragon for a bit. I have a few questions I’d like to ask him about this year’s Summer’s End Ball.” He strode after me, and together we ambled back to the French doors.
“Good luck with that,” I said. “Last I saw him, he and Killian were playing laser tag in the gardens around sunset.”
“Ahh. Killian won?”
“And kept winning, until the Paragon started crying,” I confirmed.
King Solis opened the door for me, and I glanced back, a little surprised to see that Rigel was not following us.
He’d remained behind, thoughtfully studying Angstra and Manith. His hand strayed to his bracer for a moment, before he dropped it, then turned in my direction and stalked after me.
Curious, I glanced from him to the fae couple, but waited until I stepped inside and the loud music and whooping wizards could screen our voices.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
Rigel shook his head.
I hesitated, but while I was reasonably sure Rigel wouldn’t hurt me, and I wasn’t too afraid of him, I was very aware of the hard boundaries between us, and I wasn’t going to push it for the sake of seeing how he felt about the pair.
No—I’d save that little push for something far more important.
Like figuring out who had hired him to try to kill me when the night mares first started showing up around me.
The party lasted until the early hours of the morning and—according to Skye and Indigo—it was a hit.
I was just glad everyone had fun—the Drakes wouldn’t have stayed that long if they weren’t—and I’d even found a spare half hour with Josh, who took me out to the shooting range for a quick practice session.
Everything I’d learned about pistols and sidearms—including the one I owned and carried to all Night Court social functions—was taught to me by Josh. Needless to say, it was an extremely instructional half hour.
As a result, I was in a really good mood the following day, whistling to myself and jingling my truck keys as I left the cool, air-conditioned mansion for the hot, mid-morning, August air.
I clutched my folder of papers and made a noise of dislike at the back of my throat as the day’s building humidity swept around me like a soggy blanket. “Steve, Muffin, are you two sure you want to come?” I asked.
The shade and gloom—who’d spent the scant hours I’d slept silently prowling around my room—skulked after me. Steve’s shadowy black fur was more of a charcoal color under the glare of the sun, and a tuft of fur fell off Muffin as I watched.
Both of them determinedly followed me down the excessively long driveway—Steve’s front paws were a distinct shade of gray, which made her trot adorable.
“I’ll leave the truck running for you so it won’t get hot, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a boring wait,” I said.
Steve peered back over her shoulder, looking at something behind us, so I wasn’t too shocked when Rigel spoke.
“Where are you going?”
I paused at the edge of the driveway, next to a bunch of tulips that were flowering out of season—fae magic! “Rigel—good morning.”
Rigel stood behind me, a well cut figure of black in the bright and cheerful morning. I wasn’t thrilled to see he’d changed to the long, fitted jacket with the slit going up the back which he only seemed to wear when doing assassin-y things, but his silvery hair was pushed back, giving him a slightly more casual air as he stared me down.
Since he didn’t seem likely to return my greeting, I cleared my throat and set one hand on Steve’s shoulders. “We’re going into Magiford. I have some paperwork I need to drop off at the Curia Cloisters.”
He blinked. “You are the Night Queen. Send one of your employees.”
“Ahaha, it’s not quite that simple.” I waggled my folder at him as Muffin affectionately butted her head against my thigh. “I need to renew my registration as a half fae half human. If I don’t get it submitted correctly there could be trouble.”
“And you don’t trust your people to do it?”
I shrugged. “It’s important. And while I’m sure Skye or Indigo could do it, they might be bothered by other fae.”
He watched me for several long moments, the darkness of his eyes completely unreadable.
I fidgeted and took one side step closer to the giant garage that my truck was parked in.
Is he done? Can I leave, or do I need to say something else to him?
“I’ll come with.”
My stomach did this fun flippy thing it does when my anxiety spikes. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll come.” Rigel passed me, ghosting toward the garage with soundless steps.
I gawked at his back for a moment, then hurried to catch up. “But I was also goin
g to stop at my favorite café and get some coffee—and go to the library.”
Rigel glanced at me as I caught up to him. “The library?”
“I have a bunch of books about leadership on hold and ready for me to pick up.”
“And you didn’t just buy them?”
“Yeah, because it’s free to borrow them from the library.”
Rigel stared me down. “You’re concerned about buying books after all the money you spent on last night’s party?”
“Yes, Mr. Judgy, I am! You might not know since no one ever tried to drag you into the political muck due to your…previous career, but the Night Court is dead broke! I have to be economical where I can. And don’t think I won’t impose budget cuts on you, too. Even if you are pretty!” It was when I finished my ramble that I realized I might have gone a little too far in my teasing.
I hunched my shoulders and watched Rigel for any signs of murderous thoughts. But he just tapped the keycode for the garage door into the keypad and waited for the door to rise.
When the door was only half open, he ducked under. “Are you coming?”
“Yes! Yep! I’m coming.” I slipped under the door, Steve and Muffin following me. “We’re taking my truck, if that’s okay? I told Azure she could have the morning off since she had to drop off a few guests after last night’s party.”
The rising door shed sunlight on the cars tucked inside the massive garage, and the Porsche Azure had taken out in the early morning was parked, a sure sign my chauffeur had returned.
I should set my accountants on selling some of these cars.
“Your truck is fine.” Rigel’s voice shook me from my money schemes.
“Great. Hop in—though it’s going to be tight. Steve and Muffin sit in the back bench seat, but whenever I park they like to crawl into the front seats.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Just watch out for Steve—she likes to lick people.”
“Of course.”
My trip to the Curia Cloisters was stress-free—particularly after Rigel got bored waiting for me in the hallway and entered the office area I’d gone into to get my paperwork processed.
The aide I was working with had turned sheet white—which is saying something because she’d been pretty scared of Muffin and Steve who had come in with me—and suddenly there were four people working on getting my paperwork worked out. I was out of there in record time!
Rigel had stayed in the truck with Muffin and Steve—I left the truck on with the air conditioning blasting for them—when I stopped at the library, and I assumed he’d stay in the truck again once I parked at my favorite café, King’s Court.
“I’ll only be a minute.” I slipped some sunglasses on and hopped out of the truck, leaving it on.
“Chase said King’s Court Café has a drive through,” Rigel said.
“Chase says all kinds of interesting things to people who are not me,” I complained. “But yeah, he’s right. I just don’t want to take it right now. Rhonda, the owner, should be working the front. I want to stop in and say hello.”
I swung my door shut and checked my pockets for my wallet, when the thump of the passenger door shutting rocked my truck.
Curious, I peered around the front of my vehicle as Rigel strolled up. “I’m coming in,” he said.
“Oh.” I stopped, my hand half tucked in my butt pocket. “Are you sure? This is a human café. There won’t be any other supernaturals.”
“What is it you are always saying at inappropriate times?” Rigel asked.
“It’s fine?”
“Yes.” Rigel swept toward the café, his stride long and smooth.
Chapter Five
Leila
I trotted a little to catch up with him and twisted around to wave at Steve and Muffin in the still running truck. I wasn’t worried anyone was going to steal the truck—not with Muffin licking her enormous claws off and Steve flashing her teeth at anyone on the street—but I wanted to reassure my pets.
I jogged the last few steps to get to the café door before Rigel and pull it open.
The inside of King’s Court—which was named after the little side street it sat on—was cozy and bright with brick walls accented with planters of ferns and tendrils of crawling ivy. Strings of tiny lights hung from the ceiling, which had been painted a dark blue color, and one of the three rustic wooden fans squeaked quietly like a familiar friend as the wonderful, amazing, and perfect scent of coffee swept around me like a hug.
I closed my eyes in delight. “Coffee, baby, I have missed you.”
“You are inexplicably strange,” Rigel said.
I popped my eyes open to give Rigel the necessary look of disapproval. “We’ll get you set up with a good coffee drink, and then I’ll challenge you to say that again.”
“Your great love of coffee is possibly the least odd thing about you.”
“You are such a supportive husband.”
“Night Queen—where are your demon horses?”
I jerked my gaze to the tall, gangly teenager standing behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag. His blond hair sprung straight up, half covering the drive-through headset he was wearing. His freckles seemed extra prominent as he looked from me to the door.
“The night mares stayed home today,” I said.
He tossed the rag over his shoulder. “They’re not sick, are they?”
“No, they’re fine. But they’d be delighted to know you’re worried for them.”
“Leila!” Rhonda, the owner, stepped out of the little kitchen walled off from the rest of the café with a grin. “Or I should say, Queen Leila. Welcome back!”
I leaned my hip against the counter and grinned. “Hey, Rhonda! Thanks. You’re looking good!”
“Yeah, drive through business has been excellent since you dropped by with your little horses. Who’s the handsome escort?” She nodded her head at Rigel and gave me a sly grin.
“Yeah, um. This is…Rigel. Rigel, this is Rhonda—she owns this café.” I laughed nervously.
“Welcome to King’s Court Café,” Rhonda told Rigel before she fixed her too-sharp gaze back on me. “What happened to the cute werewolf?”
“Chase is still my director of security,” I said. “Rigel is just, ahah, he’s—well. He’s my husband,” I said, feeling amazingly awkward.
No one from fae society would blink at that announcement. They knew the laws I had to follow—thanks, original king! But humans wouldn’t know that, and since Rhonda was a good friend of mine she knew I would have mentioned if we were dating previously, so this was awkward.
“Your husband?” Rhonda repeated.
I gave her my most winning smile. “Precisely.”
“Him.”
“Yes.”
“The fae noble who looks like he stepped out of one of those fae-human romance books like he’s a wild hero come to rescue you.”
I glanced back at Rigel, looking rather deadly in his black clothes. He hadn’t even blinked over the conversation. “Rescue is a strong word,” I said.
Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by my truck’s blaring horn.
I dashed to the door, bumping it open.
Steve sat in the driver’s seat, pushing down on the steering wheel with a paw as she watched the café door. Muffin was next to her, sniffing the car dashboard.
“Steve! Stop that—I’ll be done soon!” I shouted. “And Muffin, don’t think I don’t know that you’re egging her on!” I shook my finger at them, then retreated indoors.
“More pets of yours?” Landon asked.
“Yes.”
Rhonda rested her hands on her hips. “You can bring ’em in, you know. This is a pet friendly café.”
Through the glass door, I could see Steve’s glowing orange eyes and her flickering fur. “Um. You’re not this kind of pet friendly,” I said.
“Leila, I insist you go bring those poor things in,” Rhonda said.
“I’ll bring them up
to the door for you, and then you can tell me what you think about them.” I paused in the doorway and held a finger out to Rigel. “Don’t you dare order tea. I want to help you pick out a drink.”
Something flickered in Rigel’s eyes. Previously I’d only seen boredom, but I was fairly certain the light I’d briefly seen was amusement, which I hadn’t been entirely sure was possible.
“I didn’t know you were that invested in what I choose to drink,” he said.
“Of course I’m invested! I need you to like it, because the chef won’t dare say no if I tell him you want a coffee machine at the mansion. Be right back.”
I hustled out to my truck, going around to the passenger side and opening up the glove compartment.
King’s Court Café required collars and leashes for all animals. Thankfully, I was in the habit of stowing some in my truck back from the days I used to train the Drakes’ dogs. I dug out two nylon collars—one pink, one purple—and their matching leashes and put them on the shade and gloom.
I felt pretty ridiculous leading them on leashes that would have been more appropriate for a chihuahua than the enormous predators that prowled on either side of me.
I paused at the glass door and reluctantly opened it when Rhonda motioned for me to come in.
Landon had been working on wiping down some of the café equipment, which he clutched when he saw Steve and Muffin. “You have other monster pets besides your demon horses?”
“Yes. The dog is Steve, the cat is Muffin.”
“You’re certainly using those species classifications loosely,” Landon grumbled.
Rhonda leaned over the counter to beam at my pets. “Hello there, cuties! I have a treat for you!” She fed them each a cookie—the homemade ones she baked for customers’ pets. Steve got a bone-shaped cookie while Muffin gobbled up a fish one.
“Are we seriously not going to talk about how terrible their names are?” Landon asked.
“They have good names!” I protested.
