by May Dawson
“You’re being stupid.”
“I just said I love you, and you tell me that I’m being stupid?”
“Loving a Marine is an inherently foolish act.” But his lips turn up at the corners. “Loving a spy, too. You’re three-for-three on foolishness right now.”
His words leave me perplexed, reeling. I just made a big confession, and he’s making jokes.
“You’re the worst.” I shove his shoulder, playfully, but I don’t mean it playfully. I don’t know what to make of him sometimes.
“Yes,” he says, without hesitation. He catches me around the waist, pulling me against his body, even as I’m shaking my head in disbelief at him.
“You know I love you, Tera Kate,” he tells me, his voice low and confident.
Those words make all the other emotions fall away, and there’s nothing left but warmth as I gaze up into his clear blue eyes. Airren always looks like he’s assessing a situation, judging and planning, but right now, he looks guileless. There’s nothing but the moment between us.
“Then you’re an idiot too,” I say, because he deserves that.
“Well, yes,” he murmurs.
He leans forward, and his lips brush my jawline.
My chin rises sharply in response, welcoming him in, and he covers my throat with kisses.
“I’ve never felt so foolish in my life,” he whispers. “I want a woman so much that I need her—I’ve never felt that way before—and for all my skills, I can’t do what it takes to protect her.”
“I’m just trying to do the right thing, Airren.”
“I know,” he says. “But you’re doing the wrong thing. For me, for you. For the four of us.”
“It’s the right thing for Avalon.”
“Avalon will never know.”
“Spoken like a spy.” No more lies, no more secrets. Avalon needs to heal. I don’t want to add one more wound.
“Spoken like a man in love,” he says. “You drive me mad, Tera Kate.”
His name on my lips drives me mad.
His arm tightens around me. The two of us are never going to agree, and so we don’t try anymore. Instead, the two of us lose ourselves in each other. As we strip each other of our clothes, his hands stroke over my arms, my legs, the curve of my ass. I do the same to him, tracing the shape of his shoulders and each hard ridge of abs and the muscular plane of his ass. It’s like we want to remember each other. Our lips follow in trace, tasting and sucking and licking each other’s bodies, until my clit—still untouched—throbs with desire.
I reach for him, but when my fingertips graze his cock, he catches my wrist in his hand. Drawing my hands together, he presses them above my head, guiding me back to the wall just a few steps back. The cool wooden panels press against my back as he lowers his head, his tongue circling my nipple before he draws it into his mouth. He knows what I like so well now, and I can’t bite back my moan.
The warm heat of his mouth withdraws from my nipple, and he kisses my breast as cool air caresses me. “Turn around,” he commands, his hands already on my hips. I spin under his touch, catching myself with my hands against the wall.
There’s no denying I’m ready for him, and this time, there’s no slow, easy lovemaking. The tip of his clock slides against my wet clit. He rubs himself in slow circles, teasing my clit until I’m pressing my ass back into him, eager for more. His hard lower abs are against the curve of my ass as he slowly presses himself inside me, filling me up. Even without a spell, the man’s cock is magic.
Our bodies move in perfect motion together. His hand glides across my thigh, up to my clit, as he rocks in and out of me. He toys with my clit as his cock pounds my g-spot over and over, gliding in and out, until I’m about to scream with desire. I turn my head and bite to hold myself back, my teeth grazing his thick bicep. He grins as he leans forward, wrapping me in his heated muscle, his body all along mine.
This time is hard and rough, and yet we move as partners. The warmth of his body against mine feels like home.
I clench around him so tightly, so furiously, that both of us are gasping as he comes too. Then we stumble to the bed—both of us laughing, a little bit giddy from the rush—and I climb on top, straddling him. His cock brushes my still-throbbing clit as I lean forward to cover the curve of his cheekbones with kisses until his mouth captures mine instead.
His hands glide over the curve of my ass and settle on my hips. I feel his lips smiling against mine as I cover them with my own mouth.
There’s nothing left for us to talk about, but when our bodies move together, it feels like there’s still so much to express.
Chapter 29
Cax
“There are other ways for her to get her magic back.”
When I whirl to face him, the Fox stands at the edge of the garden. He gestures impatiently, as if he’s telling me to calm down. He wears black leather fingerless gloves, a black shirt and trousers, black shoes. He’s dressed like True, except for the elaborate metal mask he wears.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“I’m in the area. Had a refugee run.” He sounds as impressed with himself as the rest of Avalon.
“And you stopped in to talk about Tera?” I’d like to understand why.
He shrugs carelessly. “Who can help but fall for that girl?”
“Well, she’s taken.” Three times over.
The Fox’s lips arch in a smile. “Here that girl is, making her own decisions about her magic, with the fate of the kingdom at stake. I imagine you won’t interfere with her decisions regarding a trifling thing like love—if I can win her over, that is.”
“The fate of the kingdom? Lord, masked vigilantes are all so dramatic.” My mind races. He knows more about Tera, and about our mission here, than he should. But I lead with the most important question. “How can her power be restored without killing Moirus?”
“He might keep a fraction of her power until his death,” he says. “But Mycroft lit that spark within her.”
If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself against magic. She’s carrying a well of magic that works against any spell used against her even if she can’t access it herself.
“Maybe,” I say. “We can’t figure out how to fan that spark.”
“You can’t. She can.”
I stare at him. I’m not following. He sighs as if I’m being purposefully obtuse.
“You want to protect her,” he says. “You do her no favors in the long run.”
“You think she needs to leave us to get her magic back? That makes zero sense.” I’m not abandoning Tera to a trial by fire. Maybe we could do some kind of dangerous training exercises that would provoke her into using her magic, but we would still be there, able to help her if she needed us.
“You know her best,” he says. “Do you think she’s going to turn evil if she’s left to her own devices?”
“No,” I say quickly. But I can’t help thinking about the rumors and stories circulating amongst the True. Those rumors are one more thing we’ve kept from Tera.
The True believe that her father’s magic is alive in the ground where his pieces were buried after his execution. They’ve been vandalizing his grave, trying to get in, trying to take on his magic. Trying to become his vessel. There are a dozen guards at his grave now.
“Then why do you cling to her so tightly?”
“There’s no clinging.” I’m starting to see why Airren punched the Fox. Maybe Mycroft shouldn’t have stopped him.
“That spark has the best chance of rising into a flame while she is alone,” he says. “Binding her in affection and lies isn’t doing her any favors.”
Irritation prickles at my skin. “That isn’t what we’re doing.”
“Sure.” He speaks with quick, condescending confidence. All I can see of his face is the glint of his eyes behind the mask and the smug tilt of his mouth.
“Is that what you came to tell me? To abandon her and see what happens?”
Nothing doing. That girl will always have us on her side. We’ll figure out how to reawaken her magic…together.
“No.” The Fox crosses his arms over his chest with the air of giving an ultimatum. I’ve had about enough of those lately. “I came to tell you to give her truth. You’ve taken her power just as much as Neal did.”
The accusation staggers me. I’d do anything to give Tera back her magic; I’d give her mine if I could. Mycroft practically did. “We’ve tried to take care of her!”
“And yet.”
His words hang in the air. And yet she’s been in danger?
And yet we’ve lied to her?
I can’t help but glance around the garden before I say flatly, “We’ve told her almost everything.”
“You involved her in your war with the True,” he says. “At least when they lie to her, she knows not to trust them.”
He’s trying to rattle me. “She knows we’re spies. She knows she’s a part of our mission.”
“She knows you’re using her,” he translates. “Does that make you feel better?”
“We’re not using her. She’s our partner. She’s uniquely suited to gain information about the True.”
He shakes his head slowly. The smug smile carving his lips makes me want to slam my fist into his jaw.
“Your boss threatened her. If she doesn’t serve the Crown, she’ll be cast out of Avalon. But we all know it’s her corpse that would really be tossed back dirtside. Is that your idea of being a partner?”
No, it’s not true. Rian and his father might be at war with each other, a small, quiet war of control and power, but Rian would protect her from that fate.
My voice comes out harsh with irritation when I ask, “How do you know any of this?”
“I’m the Fox.”
“Isn’t your namesake flower the night blooming Flox?” Flox still sounds like something you’d cough up from the back of your throat during a long winter, no matter how many girls braid it into their hair and how many people toast the Fox at their parties.
“Make it a joke all you will,” he says calmly. “If you think Tera knows all the truth that matters, then why do you still keep secrets from her?”
I hesitate. The truth is, as much as we’ve hinted at the truth, none of us think Tera will take it well.
The Crown charged us with protecting her and using her in equal measure. We watched over her from the first moment she entered Avalon; we were there in the shadows at the train station when she fell through the portal. My heart had shifted in my chest as I saw her climb to her feet, her big blue eyes staring around her eagerly, drinking in Avalon. Airren set out to charm her at their first meeting, to make her fall for him. He’s certainly succeeded although he’s lost himself as well.
She doesn’t know all that.
“Tell her,” the Fox warns again. “The lies won’t hold much longer anyway. Better that the truth come from you all. Then you have a chance at her forgiveness.”
“What’s your point here?” I demand. “Do you want to give us free relationship counseling? Or are you worried about making sure her powers re-emerge?”
“A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B.”
“Why are you so invested?”
“It’s painful to watch you all fumble this so badly. It’s like watching a slow-motion train wreck.”
I step forward impatiently. “Who are you? Really?”
“If you don’t start making better choices,” he says, “I’m going to be guy who kisses your girl while she leaves you behind.”
“Fuck you,” I say, starting toward him in earnest, but he turns, his cloak rising in a sudden breeze. The cloak obscures him for a second, and then he’s gone. There’s nothing but the sound of the leaves shaking in the breeze.
I raise my hand to form a bubble. “Croft. We have a problem.”
As soon as I’ve blown the bubble off my palm and it rises on the breeze, I start across the garden for the castle.
Rian steps out onto the long stone patio. He’s dressed in his usual princely garb: an impossibly white, impossibly starched shirt that speaks of multiple outfit changes each day, dark trousers. I squint, but they’re dark blue, not black like the Fox’s.
There’s constant chatter about the Fox’s identity; even Intel doesn’t know. Many girls obsessed with both the Fox and the prince want to combine the two into one, even though the future king should be too busy for that kind of adventure. But the Fox and the prince being the same person seems logistically impossible. They sometimes appear at the same time in different places.
It occurs to me that I should bring that up in casual conversation with Tera.
Then I see the man behind Rian’s shoulder. It’s Cutter, his dark brown hair slicked back from his widow’s peaks. There are gray circles beneath his eyes as he raises his hand toward me in a weary greeting.
I was right when I told Mycroft we had trouble, apparently. What does Cutter want?
Mycroft emerges onto the patio behind them. His head is on a swivel, his eyes alert. He doesn’t really register Rian and Cutter; he’s focused on just one thing until his gaze meets mine. The subtlest flash of relief crosses his face.
Maybe I should’ve been less succinct in that message. I frightened him, not that he’ll admit to it.
Then Mycroft takes in Cutter and Rian, and his lips tighten. He stops as they turn, and in the distance, I can hear Rian’s cheerful greeting, Cutter’s usual recalcitrant muttering, and Mycroft’s grumble.
As I reach them, Rian says, “Ah, Cax. Enjoying the garden?”
“No,” I say shortly. “I ran into the Fox.”
“He can be unpleasant,” Rian says.
“Speaking of unpleasant,” Cutter says impatiently, not interested in our discussion.
Mycroft’s attention is fixed on me, curious what the Fox is up to now. Rian doesn’t seem particularly interested, and even though I know he isn’t the Fox, that’s still something to take note of. The prince is up to something, but I’m not quite sure what.
Cutter goes on, “I think your man is up to something more than a grudge against Tera. He’s True.”
“Moirus Neal?” I ask.
“Yeah. Keep up,” Cutter says impatiently. “Neal presents himself as a simple conman, but he’s True. I found a connection between him and one of the corrupt officers in my own department. That’s how Neal knew where Tera is.”
“So the police have been keeping tabs on our Tera and endangering her life in the process. Amazing.” I muse out loud.
Cutter starts to turn on me, but Mycroft interrupts him, raising his hand.
“You came all this way,” Mycroft says flatly. “Why?”
“I want to interrogate Neal,” Cutter says. “Under Compulsion to tell the truth.”
Police officers aren’t supposed to use Compulsion, at least not for citizens of Avalon; citizens of other countries have fewer protections.
Luckily for us, I point out, “He’s got Vasilik prison tattoos.”
“No, he’s one of ours,” Cutter says. “Those borders are more porous than any of us would care for.”
“There are more Vasiliks here every day, thanks to that damned, brilliant Fox,” Rian says, glancing at a distant palace balcony, where a group of Vasilik nobles are congregating around a luncheon table. The Vasiliks certainly don’t seem very useful. Their country would probably run fine without its nobility if Devlin and his father weren’t in control instead. Democracy could be fun. The Vasiliks should give it a try.
I have to side-eye Rian’s compliments for the Fox. They make me wonder if he could be the Fox after all, using some kind of artificial imagery or even a body double to appear in two places at once. He wouldn’t be the first rich fool of a boy to seek adventure. I wouldn’t judge.
“You need our help,” Croft fills in the gaps. “You want to conduct an illicit interrogation. Or rather, you want us to.”
“Yep.” Cutter slaps Mycroft’s shoulder familiar
ly. “You’ve got it, friend.”
Mycroft snorts in response. The two of them haven’t gotten along particularly well; our local police detective is an honest man and a good cop, but he’s still put our girl in handcuffs before.
“We can’t tell Tera,” Mycroft says. “She’s already angry that we’ve second-guessed her decision about Neal.”
Rian pulls a face. “Sorry about all the drama.”
If he’d just executed Moirus Neal quietly, instead of setting the decision in Tera’s lap, we wouldn’t have any of this to deal with. Perhaps we would’ve missed out on useful information about Neal’s involvement with the True, but Tera would have her magic back. She’d be growing stronger all the time.
“You want to lie to her again?” I ask skeptically.
The Fox’s words have gotten under my skin. When I think of the way she sobbed in my arms, I want nothing more than to destroy Moirus Neal—if only I could do it without betraying her trust yet again. We’re torn between protecting her and respecting her. There’s no easy way out.
“Again?” Rian’s brows arch.
No matter how much the lies bother him, Mycroft waves the question off impatiently. “I’ll distract her. I have a mission I’ve been eager to undertake. I’ll bring her with me. You and Airren conduct the interrogation.”
“Yes, I give my blessing to use my interrogation room and take my prisoner,” Rian says lightly.
“Sorry,” Mycroft says. He doesn’t sound one bit apologetic that he’s forged ahead with his plan without looking to the prince for permission.
The Fox is inside my head, that’s for sure.
I can’t shake the feeling that we’re hurtling toward yet another mistake.
Chapter 30
Tera
When Airren kisses me goodbye and leaves me in bed, the sun is spilling across the floor. I fall back into the pillows, tempted to take a nap. Nobles keep late hours, and murderous conmen keep even worse ones. The past few days have been exhausting.
Instead, I get up and run a bath to help me wash away the drama of the past twenty-four hours. I may never be in the palace again once we leave, and I’m drawn by the enormous sunken tub, surrounded by blooming flowers and greenery on three sides.
