“No,” he replied, his voice surprisingly reasonable. “I just thought you’d want to spend as much time as possible with him before getting shipped off to my side of the Atlantic.”
She refused to let him bait her.
Robert seemed unfazed by her silence. “Seriously, is your boyfriend really a halfling?”
“Don’t call him that.” Donna kept walking, increasing her pace even as she knew she didn’t have a hope of losing him.
“What, ‘your boyfriend’?” Robert’s grin was wicked, making him look sort of devilish. “Oh, you mean the ‘halfling’ thing. Please. Don’t get all offended on me.”
Shooting a glare his way, she turned into a side street, hoping he’d lose interest if she took the long way around. “I’m not offended,” she replied. “I just think you’re being rude about someone you don’t even know.”
Robert shrugged easily. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m the last person to throw stones.”
His British accent sounded more posh when he was teasing, and Donna had the feeling that he was laughing at her in more ways than she understood. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you just run along back to Miranda?”
Robert spun around, walking backwards in front of her, so she had no choice but to slow down and look at him. He clutched at his heart and staggered dramatically. “You wound me with your scorn, madam! And how dare you not let me enjoy the massive chip on my shoulder.”
She almost laughed, but stopped herself just in time. He was pretty funny—sometimes—when he wasn’t being intensely annoying. In any case, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
“It could have been much worse for me, of course,” he added. “I was almost apprenticed to the Order of the Rose.”
Rolling her eyes, Donna was relieved to see they were almost at the Common. Maybe she could finally lose him there.
Yeah, she could hope.
Robert seemed to be on a roll. “Can you imagine how well that would’ve gone down? The oh-so-cultured Order of the Rose, saddled with the illegitimate, half-Chinese, gay son of one of the most notorious alchemists in recent history?”
Donna tried to hide her interest, but she couldn’t help herself. “Really? Which alchemist?”
“I bare my soul to you—a complete stranger—in a transparent effort to gain your trust, and all you care about is who the notorious parent is? What about my race? My sexuality? My—”
“Questionable mental health?” she cut in smartly, feeling quite pleased to have actually shut him up for a moment.
“Are you saying I’m mad? Considering that you just climbed out a window, one could make the argument that there’s only one crazy person here.”
Donna stopped walking when they reached the edge of Ironbridge Common and glared at him. “Just when I decide you might be okay, you ruin it all by speaking.”
“Sorry,” he replied, his shoulders shaking with barely repressed laughter. “You’re just too easy.”
She crossed her arms. “Like you’d care about that.”
“Ah, so the lady does have a sense of humor. I approve.”
Sighing loudly, Donna waited for him to tell her why he was being such a pain in the ass.
“Look,” Robert said. “You’re probably wondering why I bothered to follow you, if I’m not intending to turn you in.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“I think I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
She smiled nastily. “Because you care so much about how I am? Why, Mr. Lee, I’m touched.”
He nodded his approval. “You’re mastering the fine art of sarcasm already. Wonderful. We’ll soon have you baking scones and drinking tea with milk and two sugars, don’t you worry.” His expression shifted to something more sly. “You’ll make an excellent apprentice for Miranda.”
That was all it took for any good feelings that might have been building toward Robert to melt away. She felt like punching him, and had to remind herself that she really didn’t know this guy at all—and he wasn’t Navin, no matter how much he made her laugh.
They’d reached one of the many areas of the Common where trees were planted on both sides of the path, and Donna took a deep breath of cold air. Her companion had fallen silent—thankfully—and although she was tempted to just enjoy the reprieve, she also had questions that perhaps he’d be able to answer. As they emerged from the canopy of leaves, the bright winter sun emerged from behind a white cloud and Robert’s cobalt blue highlights stood out in stark contrast to the regular inky blackness of his hair.
He indicated a bench. “Will you sit with me for a minute?”
He actually wanted to talk? “I really have to be somewhere,” Donna said stubbornly. “And I’m going there alone.”
“Five minutes.” His expression was sincere, and for the first time she saw that he looked tired. Not that she knew him or anything, but the dark circles under his eyes were unmistakable.
“Well …”
“Please?”
It was the “please” that did it. “Okay, five minutes.”
Maybe Robert really was okay, and maybe he wasn’t; but it didn’t matter either way, because she didn’t intend to become friends with someone so closely tied to the alchemists.
He tucked his long hair behind his ears. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other and you have absolutely no reason to trust me, but working with Miranda wouldn’t be such a terrible fate—”
Her shoulders tightened and she had to resist the temptation to leap to her feet. “That’s what you want to talk about? You really are just here to give me the sales pitch on the Order of the Crow? Classy.”
He flushed. “No, it’s not like that!”
“But that’s exactly what it sounds like.”
Robert leaned toward her, capturing her gaze with an intensity that surprised her. “I just think you might do better away from Ironbridge. Far away.”
“And you know what’s best for me, all of a sudden? We only just met.”
“It’s not so much about what’s best for you, rather than what might be … worse for you.”
She stood up, straightening her coat and fiddling with her gloves. “You’re not making any sense. If you can’t just spit it out and stop with the cryptic shit, forget it. Time’s up.”
A sudden wind moved like cold fingers through her hair and Donna spun to look behind them. Perhaps she’d been right all along about being followed, and it hadn’t been Robert she sensed before.
Frowning, she carefully examined the groups of people walking through Ironbridge Common, wondering if any of them were wood elves wearing a glamour. It made sense that Aliette might have her monitored. Perhaps the queen wanted to ensure Donna kept her end of their bargain, although it did seem strange that she’d risk expending more of her power when she could just send Ivy to tail her.
Thinking of the strange fey girl filled Donna with a confusing mixture of curiosity and envy. She immediately gritted her teeth against jealousy. She would not get hung up on who Xan might have been with before her. That was ridiculous, and not at all like the kind of person she believed herself to be.
But you’ve never fallen for anyone before, argued a plaintive voice inside her traitorous heart.
Robert touched her shoulder, making her jump. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A ghost? She smiled, knowing the expression came out wrong even as her lips curved. “Not exactly.” She tasted bitterness on her tongue and swallowed it away.
She would not be that person.
“I’m fine,” she added, shaking herself free of both the dark mood and the lingering suspicion about being followed.
“Donna, I’m sorry I offended you earlier,” Robert said quickly. “If you’re annoyed with me about what I called your boyfriend—”
She cut him off. “Forget it.” Like you care, anyway.
Robert’s angular features twisted in what look
ed like genuine concern. “I wish you’d listen to me.”
“But you’re not telling me anything.”
“Come to London. I’m not saying that because they told me to—I swear that’s true. Just … think about it.”
Donna shook her head. “Like I have a choice, anyway.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re more powerful than you think.”
She looked at him, narrowing her eyes and trying to figure out just what the hell he knew. “I have to go.”
“Think about it.” All humor was gone, wiped out like he hadn’t recently been laughing and joking about gorgeous half-fey boyfriends. “You can’t trust the Order of the Dragon.”
Tell me something I don’t know, Donna thought. But all she said was, “I really have to go.”
She turned and ran through the Common, all the way back the way they’d come. Back toward Xan’s.
This time, Robert didn’t follow her.
Seventeen
Donna tugged her steaming mug of coffee closer and watched Xan—who was shirtless—working in the open-plan kitchen. The dining room, where she was sitting at a huge oak table, was separated from the kitchen only by a low partition made of artistically arranged stone. Xan was turned away from her, and she could see the scars where his wings used to be standing out against the tanned skin of his back. His shoulders were wide and his waist narrow; he was ridiculously perfectly formed.
It was only those thick, ropelike scars that marred his beauty. At least, they would in the eyes of most people. Donna’s lips twisted into a bitter smile as she glanced down at the silver tattoos covering her arms and the backs of her hands. She knew a little something about pain and scars.
She looked up and found Xan watching her, casually sexy in a pair of low-slung jeans and bare feet. He was holding a bag of bread in one hand.
“How many slices?”
The smell of eggs made her mouth water. “Four.”
He did the single-eyebrow raise she’d always envied in Nav. “I like a woman with a healthy appetite.”
She blushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious around him. This morning’s verdict, along with her escape from the mansion and her conversation with Robert, had left her reeling. But now that she was back here with Xan, everything they’d shared last night came back in a rush. Of course, there was still the tiny matter of Ivy and what the changeling girl’s past relationship with him might have been, but she could keep that worry in the background.
It wasn’t like she didn’t have more important things to stress about. For a start, she had to decide which bombshell to drop on Xan first. The fact that she was being sent to London? Or the whole deal-with-Aliette thing? Ah, decisions …
Normally, it would be pretty tough to concentrate when faced with a shirtless Alexander Grayson, but right now the only thing on Donna’s mind was saving Mom’s life. Xan had proven that he knew a few things about faerie doors, and she needed to hear any ideas he might have about sending the wood elves home. And after everything he’d suffered at the hands of the wood elves, he deserved to know what she was planning.
She could only hope that he would understand her motives—that he would still help her.
Xan turned back to the gleaming, modern stove and reduced the heat on everything. Tossing the bread back onto the wide expanse of marble-topped counter, he padded over to the table and stood next to her chair, gazing down at her with warmth in his viridian-bright eyes.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
She smiled. “Maybe I’m just shy.”
“You don’t have to be shy around me, Donna.” He extended both hands and smiled at her in return.
Donna clambered awkwardly out of the chair and let herself be drawn into the warm circle of his arms. Her head barely came to his shoulder. She breathed deeply of his pine scent, rubbing her cheek against his golden skin as he held her tightly against him.
She rested her hands on his lower back and looked up into his eyes. “Let’s not talk about me for a minute.” She gave him a cheeky grin that made her feel more confident. “Are you okay?”
“Best I’ve felt in years. In fact, I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday.”
There was laughter in his voice and she pulled back to see if he was joking. “What? It’s really your birthday?”
He lifted one shoulder in what she took to be a vaguely self-conscious shrug. “It really is.”
That made him twenty. Twenty! Aunt Paige would kill her if she knew she’d almost spent the night with a twenty-year-old guy. Not that she cared what her aunt thought about anything—not anymore.
“Happy Birthday to me,” whispered Xan, his breath hot and inviting against her face as he bent his head to hers.
Donna shivered with anticipation, but before she let his lips touch hers she put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Hold it right there, Mr. Grayson.” She mock-glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”
He tried to grab her hands, but she sidestepped him and crossed her arms. “Seriously, I wish you’d told me.”
His shoulders slumped and the teasing expression drained away. “I never celebrate my birthday. It’s been a long time since I had anything to celebrate.” His voice was flat, giving nothing away.
Donna bit her lip and watched him for a moment, almost able to breathe in his sorrow. “What about your parents? I mean, before they got divorced and your mom went back to England. They must have done things with you to, you know … celebrate and stuff.”
Xan shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, pushing them even further down his hips. He watched her through the too-long bangs that she always had the urge to cut. “Yeah, but only when I was a kid. I haven’t had a real birthday … thing … for the last four years.”
“Oh.” Donna found it hard to imagine not being fussed over for her birthday. Despite the sadness and loss in her own life, Aunt Paige had always made her feel special on her birthday.
He shrugged and turned back to the kitchen. His voice was muffled as he clattered the pan with the probably dried-out eggs onto a ceramic tile next to the stove. “This is the first time in a long while I’ve felt like there was some hope for the future, you know?”
Pain tightened Donna’s chest. She wished she could forget all the panic and drama in her life—put it on hold just for one more day—and give Xan the best birthday he’d ever had. But she didn’t have time. Mom didn’t have time.
“Xan—”
There was a loud banging at the front door before she could continue, and she almost let loose a scream of surprise. What an idiot, she thought with disgust. She was so on edge it was ridiculous, jumping out of her skin at the first loud noise.
Xan was already heading for the hallway. “It’s probably just some mail for Dad,” he called back over his shoulder. “Stay in here though, just in case.”
In case what? she thought, idly tracing lines in the sugar she’d spilled. She was trying not to think too much about Aliette and their agreement, but she knew that she couldn’t keep it from Xan for much longer.
He kicked the dining room door shut behind him and Donna was left in sudden solitude. The sound of the humming refrigerator was the only thing to break the silence as she waited for Xan to get rid of whoever was outside. Tapping her fingers against the smooth wooden table, she found herself more able to look at her tattoos without wincing. Either this was a total coincidence, or it was some kind of weird side effect of her new teleporting super power.
The door opened and Xan walked back in, his face shadowed with what looked like barely repressed annoyance. Donna pushed back her chair, eyes widening as soon as she saw why Xan looked so uncomfortable.
Navin Sharma walked into the room, his ever-present biker jacket in place and his hair untidy from the sharp wind outside.
His hands were pushed deep into the pockets of his jacket, and the tension in his shoulders was probably only visible to someone who knew him as well as she did.
“Hey, Don,” he said, his voice steady and his dark brown eyes focused only on her. “What’s up?”
Now this, Donna thought, was what could only be described as uncomfortable.
The three of them had moved to the spacious living room, Donna and Navin sitting at opposite ends of the long couch and Xan slouched in an armchair, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his bare feet golden against the impractical white carpet. He had refused to put on a shirt and just sat there belligerently, looking all masculine and dangerous, a coiled anger sizzling below the surface of his deceptively calm exterior.
The testosterone in the air had almost singed her eyelashes as she’d given Navin an awkward hug and then curled up in the furthest corner of the couch. And what had gotten into Xan? Sighing, Donna wondered if she should take the bull by the horns and tell them both about her bargain with Aliette. Tell them at the same time and then make a run for it, perhaps? See how angry they got, and no doubt listen to them try to make decisions for her about what she should and shouldn’t do.
Yeah, that seemed like the perfect plan.
It wasn’t that they wouldn’t understand her need to save Mom’s life, of course, but that wouldn’t keep them from worrying about her safety—not to mention the fact that, once again, she was dealing with the very beings who had tortured Xan in his childhood and kidnapped Nav just weeks ago.
Donna pulled down the cuffs of her sweater and smiled nervously at her best friend.
“I was worried about you,” Navin said, refusing to even glance in Xan’s direction. “Your aunt has come over to my house twice already, asking about you—since you just disappeared from the Estate.”
Of course she has, Donna thought savagely. She wants to tell me more lies. Anything to keep me within the ranks of her precious alchemists.
Clearly wondering about her silence, Navin continued. “Dad and Nisha are getting suspicious—especially since I cut classes today to be at the verdict.”
“You were at the Frost Estate?” Xan’s voice was harsh and accusing.
The Wood Queen Page 17
