The Evil Queen

by Showalter, Gena

  I remained in place for a long while, soaking in the revelry, my captivity officially at an end. The scent of pine and cinnamon steeped the air, my drug of choice, overshadowing candle wax and sea salt. Roth was within reach and unaware I was about to upend his entire world.

  After tonight, neither one of us would ever be the same.

  Panic squeezed my heart and refused to let go. Should I reconsider this? If he compelled me, I’d lose. Game over.

  No! I wouldn’t fear his magic. I’d planned for it. As Roth had done after I’d compelled him, I would find a way around any and every order.

  Showtime. Fighting to keep my nerves on a tight leash, I sauntered to the throne.

  “Hey!” A guard noticed me and stalked over to clasp my arm. He bowed, telling Roth, “My apologies, great king. I am unsure how she bypassed us.”

  “Quite easily,” I quipped, even my voice like the supermodel’s.

  “The dais is off-limits to guests.” Roth spared me the barest glance and dismissed me with a flick of his wrist. “My guards will escort you somewhere, anywhere else.”

  I was the fairest of all, and he remained unimpressed by my obvious beauty? Unacceptable! Let’s kick things up a notch.

  I wrenched free of the guard, spun, and plopped onto Roth’s lap, startling both males. “You’re right. I should leave.” Batting my lashes, I traced a fingertip along the collar of Roth’s jacket. “Or I could stay, and we could discuss your favorite part of my body.”

  We stared at each other for several heartbeats of time, the heat in his eyes making me dizzy. Could he tell who I was?

  No, no. He couldn’t. He didn’t. He relaxed into the throne, even draping an arm around my waist.

  Guess he liked his girls bold and brash, after all.

  When the guard grabbed my arm for the second time, Roth caught his wrist—without looking away from me. Shiver!

  “Leave her,” he said, giving the guy a push. He returned his muscular arm to my waist, spreading his fingers over my hipbone to cover more ground. A possessive hold. With his free hand, he gently pinched my chin and angled my masked face into a beam of candlelight.

  I trembled. Must preserve the illusion.

  Drain him and go.

  Not yet. So much more to do.

  He leaned closer to me, and I sucked in a breath. Was he going to kiss me? I would stop him. Of course I would stop him. But the diabolical boy merely dragged his nose along the column of my neck and sniffed.

  More shivers...more jealousy. In his mind, I was languishing in the tower. Yet here he was, flirting with a supermodel. Never mind that I was the supermodel in question.

  He would pay for this.

  “You smell like someone I know,” he said, his voice all smoke and gravel.

  Oh, crap! Because of Roth’s scent, I could pick him out of a lineup while blindfolded. I should have realized he could do the same for me. Even the centaurs had claimed I smelled like “apple blossoms.”

  But Roth didn’t toss me off his lap or call for reinforcements and a torque, or compel me to return to the tower. So, my true identity remained secret.

  “Someone. A girl, I’d bet,” I said. “Do you like her scent?”

  “I do not. I love her scent.”

  I wanted to preen and claw his face to shreds. I compromised by wetting my lips and sinking my nails in his shoulders. His gaze tracked the glide of my tongue, and I nearly cried out with longing.

  With his free hand, he motioned for Saxon.

  I tensed as the avian approached the throne. He wore a mask the same shade of blue as his wings.

  Roth spoke in a language I didn’t understand. Avianish, I think. The other male stiffened, gave the king a clipped nod and strode away.

  “Oooh. What did you say?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t awash with nervousness.

  “I asked him to check on my treasure,” he replied, a strange gleam in his eyes. “Sometimes guests wander where they should not.”

  “Treasure?” What did this boy value above all else?

  “Mmm-hmm.” He said no more, dang him, and I couldn’t push without rousing suspicions.

  To get us back on track, I dragged my nose along the column of his neck, breathing him in. “I noticed your scent, too,” I admitted. Play the game. “You smell like the happiest day of the year, the best present under the tree and every girl’s downfall.” Wait. Did they celebrate Christmas here? Had I just given myself away?

  Smoldering with intensity, he reached up to sift a lock of my hair between his fingers. “You are not from the Azul Dynasty.”

  “Correct. But I have every right to be here. I’m related to royalty.” Uh-oh. Resentment had seeped from my tone.

  He gave a half smile. “Are you here to win my hand in marriage?”

  I arched a brow. “You speak as if you are the prize, King Roth.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  “You are not. I am.” I winked and extracted myself from his hold. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.” Yes, I’d just quoted Romeo and Juliet. An impulse I should have ignored. Of all the plays, in all the world.

  How would Roth respond?

  I rose. He did the same, and embarrassingly enough, I swayed into him as I craned my head up to meet his gaze.

  He brought my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the center of my palm. Butterflies took flight in my stomach, and my knees knocked together, my tactile awareness of him deepening.

  How would a proper Enchantian maiden respond to this?

  “My lord.” Saxon returned to the dais, saving me from a mistake.

  Scratch marks littered his face, and a smear of blood stained the collar of his shirt. Stiff, he spoke in Avianish once more.

  He must have confirmed the treasure remained undisturbed, whatever it was, because Roth expelled a relieved breath and dazzled me with a smile.

  As I tried to breathe, the avian said something that made the smile vanish.

  I gulped and asked, “Something wrong?”

  Clipped nod. “A fae courtling was found unconscious, his fingers severed,” Roth explained. “Our healers are working to reattach everything.”

  Sweet! No one had put two and two together! Relieve, I toyed with the ends of his silken hair. “Worry about the fae later. Entertain me now.”

  “Yes.” He motioned Saxon away. “Will you honor me with a dance?”

  How could I resist? “I will.”

  Satisfaction oozed from him as he took my hand and led me around servants who carried trays of wineglasses. We bypassed different cliques of royals. So much power, so many abilities, there for the taking. Good thing I hadn’t severed my link with Farrah. Temptation was almost irresistible. But resist I did.

  Most attendees watched us, some angry, some curious. Whispers arose. “Who is she?” “How did she gain the king’s notice?” “He has ignored everyone else.”

  I smirked. If Roth heard the gossip, he gave no outward sign. The only hitch in his step came when Noel and Ophelia twirled directly into our path.

  “Oracle. Witch,” he grated in greeting. “Now isn’t the time to pester me.”

  “Since I’m no longer on your payroll, I stopped caring about your personal timetable. I tease, I tease. I never cared.” She patted his cheek. “Since my happily-ever-after is dependent on others, I need you to listen to me.” Though she’d always presented herself as scatterbrained, I detected keen intellect in her gaze. “When the clock strikes rat o’clock, grab hold of your treasure and do not let go.”

  Another mention of his treasure. My curiosity doubled.

  She winked at me before flouncing away. Ophelia leaned in to whisper, “Nice earrings,” then trailed after her friend. Phobia and Webster hissed at her retreating back. The oracle and witch did see past my illusion, bu
t they hadn’t outed me. Guess they weren’t all bad.

  “Rat o’clock,” Roth mumbled.

  I understood the reference—the moment Bitsy and her crew came out of hiding—but nothing else.

  Before I could rack my brain, the king swept me into his arms. “Shall we have our dance?”

  I held on tight, barely managing to stifle a groan. “I haven’t danced in years. If I make a mistake...the fault is yours.”

  He laughed. “I’ll endeavor to lead you well, then.” Something about his tone...as if his words had a deeper meaning.

  Music drifted through the room, soft and decadent. Roth urged me into an elegant one-two-three rhythm. Wait. I knew this dance. Mom had already taught me.

  That’s right. When Hartly and I were little girls, Mom hadn’t just read us bedtime stories; she’d played “princess” with us, hoping to prepare us for our return.

  Do not think of Mom. I had to remain clearheaded. As clearheaded as possible anyway, considering the king made me stupid.

  He glided me left, back and right. Again and again. Then he whirled me, catching me against his chest. I felt the erratic beat of his heart, a perfect mimic of mine.

  We needed to stop before I melted against him and forgot the rest of my plan—before he got me addicted to his nearness, and I began to crave the life I could have led if the prophecy had never been spoken.

  Resolve hardened my spine. “I’m going to leave now,” I rasped. I would give the signal and thrill as my army ruined the party and any chance of an alliance between Sevón and Azul.

  Stay. Just a little longer...

  “Why must you go?” His voice thickened. “I’m not ready to part with you.”

  Had he known my true identity, I would have loved hearing those words. Now? They just made me sad. “I must go because I must, and you must let me.” If he fought to keep a strange girl here, when he hadn’t fought to keep me period, I might just raze this palace to the ground!

  He stiffened, nodded. “Come to the balcony with me. Please. Allow me to bid you a proper goodbye.”

  Did he hope to kiss me?

  Did I want him to?

  Kiss him. Excise him from your mind. Say goodbye. Mean it.

  My stomach churned as I nodded.

  Triumph brightened his irises. He rushed me off the dance floor.

  The people from Azul bowed as we passed. Many whispered, “May the water wash you.”

  Approaching two guards stationed in back, Roth said, “No one else comes out here. Understood?”

  Once we passed the double doors, both males extended a spear, crossing the ends crossing to create a block. Icy air stroked my exposed skin, but Roth radiated enough body heat to warm the Arctic. I remained wonderfully toasty.

  He pivoted in my direction, golden moonlight haloing him. Panting, he took a step closer. I panted, too, but I took a step back, keeping distance between us. I needed a moment to get myself under control. The aches...the throbbing need... Neither lessened.

  He crowded me against the wall. Sounding drugged, he said, “The things you make me feel...”

  “Good things?”

  “The best.” Without preamble, he added, “I want to taste you.”

  How could a stranger rouse such strong desire in him?

  Forget the kiss. Resist his allure. Reject him. The charade had become too dangerous.

  Great! I was divided again.

  When he brushed the tip of his nose against mine, his minty breath fanning over my face, the pro-kissing side won by a landslide.

  I rose to my tiptoes as he pressed his lips to mine. With a moan, I met the thrust of his tongue with a thrust of my own, too keyed up for a simple get-to-know-you kiss. I already knew this boy; I liked him as much as I hated him.

  The kiss quickly spun out of control, becoming wild, possessive, fierce. Territorial. We took and we gave. I demanded more, and he demanded all, everything.

  Being still wasn’t possible. I scraped my nails through his hair, caressed the stubble on his jaw and kneaded his shoulders, rejoicing when my body melted against his, creating a cradle for him. A cradle he accepted with a groan.

  We rocked against each other, once, twice. At the same time, he did wicked things with his tongues. Expert flicks. Sucking. Stroking. Our fire raged hotter. Burning, aching, I clung to him.

  “Love having your hands on me.” He clasped my wrists and moved my palms to his chest, letting me feel his raging heart. “Never let go.”

  “Never.” I curled my fingers, sinking my nails into him.

  He grunted his approval, angled my head, and deepened the kiss. Our breathing became hectic. Thought became impossible. But I tried. Oh, I tried, needing to stop this before I lost myself.

  He was the king I shouldn’t want, and the boy I couldn’t have and...and...in this moment of fiery passion, I tasted salvation and hope, absolution and rapture and...and...

  He would never be mine, and I would never be his, but we had here, and we had now.

  No, there would be no stopping this. The memory would warm me during the coldest, harshest nights.

  “Can’t get close enough to you,” he growled against my lips.

  “Keep trying.” Nearly blissed out. More, I had to have more.

  He rocked. He rubbed. Hot, so hot. Little snarls rumbled in his chest, driving me wild.

  “Everly,” he said and moaned. “Even better than I remembered.”

  In an instant, realization struck, dread pouring over me. He knew the truth. He’d always known.

  I wrenched away, gasping for breath.

  He was gasping, too. “Yes, I know it’s you. I’ve known from the beginning. Can we end the pretense now? Show me your real face, beauty.”

  Beauty? “How did you know who I was? My scent?” I asked, letting the illusion fade. “There. Happy?”

  As he looked me over, I expected the heat in his eyes to fade, as well. It didn’t.

  “I haven’t been happy in months.” Every inch a king, he removed my mask and tossed it aside, then flattened one hand onto the wall, then the other, caging me in. “I knew the moment you sat in my lap. You alone fit me like a puzzle piece.”

  I did, didn’t I?

  “I asked Saxon to check on Farrah,” he said. “He says you left her alive and well in the tower. For that, I am grateful.”

  “Ah. I see. She is your treasure.” I should have known. And I shouldn’t care.

  “No. Not her,” he said with a hard shake of his head. “I planned ahead, just in case you escaped.”

  My brain had trouble computing facts; arousal had fried my circuits. “Noel warned you?”

  “No. But I know you. My princess is smart, diabolical when necessary, and a survivor.”

  His princess? The claim affected me more than the compliments, blunting my anger. It almost—almost!—distracted me from my goals.

  I severed my link with Farrah and started syphoning from Roth. Warmth. Tingles.

  He sensed the loss of power, no doubt about it, and narrowed his eyes.

  “Sorry, but I can’t let you compel me again,” I told him.

  “I will not compel you ever again, Everly. You have my word. I learned my lesson.”

  Did I return the favor or protect myself? I couldn’t do both.

  Once, Roth had tested me. Today, I would do the same to him.

  “I won’t compel you, either,” I said, “as long as you mind your manners. And you don’t have to worry about your precious sister. I wanted to kill her, but I didn’t. Now, I will leave you with a warning. Do not come after me. Do not come after my family. If you do, I’ll make you regret it. Let this be the end of our war.”

  “How about we make this the beginning of our alliance?”

  He wanted to ally with me?

  No. A trick! “Never,�
�� I said. I filched a dagger from his side and pressed the tip against his collarbone. “You locked me away. You don’t get to be my friend.”

  No change in his expression. He nodded. “I did lock you away.”

  “You don’t regret it.”

  “How can I regret doing what I thought was right?”

  So calm, so collected. So irritating! “I should punish you,” I snapped. “You deserve it.”

  Another nod. “I do.”

  Argh! I would rather deal with his fury than...this. Whatever this was.

  “I have been in torment since I discovered your sorcerian heritage,” he said, his composure beginning to fade. “I wanted the enemy. The girl who brought me to life.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “Until you, I didn’t know I was a dead man walking,” he continued. “I went from day to day, moment to moment, with a single goal—protect what I love. Then you showed up and made me want more.”

  The rest of his composure faded, revealing all the torment he’d mentioned, plus an endless well of doubt, confusion and fury.

  I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t look at him and want him and hurt for him—hurt for us. I needed to go. Now!

  “Goodbye, Roth,” I croaked. For once, I was the one to walk away from him.

  I felt as if I’d been hit in the ribs with a baseball bat. Tearing my heart in two... Tearing my heart in two...

  “I won’t be leaving your side, Everly,” Roth said, catching up to me.

  Because he didn’t trust me to leave his people alone, or because he couldn’t bear to part with me?

  Did it matter? I would be ditching him in a matter of moments.

  Pang, pang. “Good luck with that.” I shoved past the double doors, pushed past the two guards and their spears and glided into the ballroom. “Now,” I shouted.

  In seconds, sounds of panic rang out. Wails. Screams. Curses. Trays were dropped, and glass shattered. Rats, rats, everywhere. Spidorpions and lava ants crawled over the walls, infesting everything. Guests and guards charged toward the exits. Well, those who hadn’t collapsed after being bitten. Chaos reigned.

  Roth clasped my wrist, stopping me while scanning the room. “Rat o’clock,” he said. “Must grab hold of my treasure.”