Princess of Shadows (Obsidian Queen Book 2)

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Startled, I turn back to the table. “You made all this?”

  “No, not everything,” she says with a soft, motherly laugh. “I order the pastries from a bakery in Frisco, and Jenna helps.”

  “Jenna?” I ask.

  I turn to where Elizabeth gestures and find a young woman pulling an industrial-sized tray of muffins from the oven. She straightens, notices us looking her way, and gives us a smile. She then takes off the oven mitts and pushes a lock of chocolate brown hair behind her ear, toward her tidy braided bun. Even from here I can tell her eyes are sky blue and striking.

  Jonathan makes a funny noise, one I assume is because the girl is gorgeous.

  “Our chef,” Elizabeth says, “She does most of the cooking, but I insist on taking the lead with breakfast. It’s my favorite meal of the day.”

  She casts an affectionate look toward her stepdaughter, who’s talking to Will’s wife. “When Olivia was young, we’d make breakfast feasts for her dolls. Obviously, we’d have gobs of leftovers, but after our staff had their fill, I’d take as much to the local food banks as I was able. They weren’t as strict about things back then. Now it’s hard to even donate fresh vegetables from the garden.”

  She shakes her head, realizing the conversation has gone astray, and then sets down the platter and waves at the rest of the spread. “Anyway, please eat.”

  Jonathan is happy to oblige. “If you’re worried about it going to waste, I know a couple guys in the staff quarters who would be happy to help you dispose of it.”

  Jenna joins us, bringing a platter of steaming muffins. She gives Jonathan a smile that I don’t particularly care for. “We feed them well, don’t you worry.”

  Yes, wouldn’t want the lowly underlings to starve.

  The woman offers Jonathan a muffin from the top of her stack, and he accepts it, giving her his full attention.

  “So you trained in New York?” he asks, recalling Rodger’s praise for her abilities from the night before.

  “I did, though I studied in France for a summer as well.” She has the faintest hint of freckles across her flawless, porcelain skin. As if that’s not enough, she also has high cheekbones and perfectly shaped eyebrows. Olivia’s pretty, but this woman is gorgeous. “Best three months of my life.”

  “I’ve been to France,” Jonathan says easily. “What area were you in?”

  “Most of my time was spent in Paris, though I did have a chance to tour Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and a few of the other medieval villages. I had hoped to go to Italy, but I never got the chance.”

  “There’s nothing quite like the Mediterranean. If you ever make it, tour Southern Italy’s Amalfi Coast.”

  “Not Rome?” she asks, smirking in a way that borders on flirtatious.

  “Everyone goes to Rome. If you’re looking for an experience that will change you, go south.”

  What has this well-traveled, romantic man done with my Jonathan? Not that he’s mine in particular. No, I mean the team’s Jonathan. Our Jonathan.

  Like a pet.

  “Is that where you’re from?” she asks. “Italy?”

  “My heritage is a mishmash of many ethnicities. My great, great grandfather was rumored to be Spanish, but the rest of mother’s family hailed from various parts of South America. My dad’s a true blue, American mutt. Mother claims we’re mostly Brazilian on her side.”

  Lies, lies, lies. Like most Aparians, there’s likely a little human blood in Jonathan’s family tree, but he’s as alien to this world as I am. Wherever Jonathan gets his dark hair, chocolate eyes, and delicious caramel skin, it was beyond the thresholds, in a place we’ve never seen. As foreign as Wonderland.

  It hits me quite suddenly that it’s a strange thing, knowing I’m meant to rule over a land I’ve never set foot in and can’t even imagine.

  As if remembering I’m standing next to him, playing the role of his wife, Jonathan smoothly slides an arm around my waist. “I’d like to take Madeline to Brazil some day.” He meets my eyes. “Maybe to a resort on the beach, somewhere secluded that looks out over the ocean. Just the two of us.”

  Um. Yes, please.

  “That sounds lovely,” Jenna says, her voice wistful.

  After giving myself a mental slap, I yank my gaze from Jonathan, set my plate of crepes aside, and drain the rest of my coffee in one gulp.

  “Go now,” Elizabeth says, rejoining the conversation. “Before you have children. Everyone should live a little before they fully settle down. I never got the chance, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “What do you say, Madeline?” Jonathan asks playfully. “Should we fly to Brazil? Lie on the beach all day? Dance in the sultry night air when it gets too dark to swim?”

  Cue breathless swooning.

  “I’d like that,” I say lightly, doing my best not to visualize that little picture. My best fails, and my cheeks warm.

  Jonathan narrows his eyes slightly, and he gives me the strangest look, one that has me subtly checking the placement of his hand, making sure he’s not in my head. But his palm rests harmlessly at my side, a layer of fabric separating us.

  “Maybe someday I’ll be fortunate enough to meet a man as doting as you,” Jenna says, giving Jonathan a come-hither smile that would make me grit my teeth if he were truly mine. Without another word, she walks back to the kitchen, sashaying her hips ever so slightly as she goes.

  Another guest calls to Elizabeth, and our hostess excuses herself as well.

  “Guess who’s Aparian,” Jonathan practically sings in my ear.

  I turn to him, surprised. “Jenna?”

  Noticing my cup is empty, he pours me more coffee. “Now guess what she is.”

  “Peacock,” I deadpan, referring to the faction that’s known for nothing but beauty.

  He snorts out a laugh. “Worse. She’s a Heron.”

  A weather conjurer.

  “Are you sure?” I demand.

  Jonathan gives me a look, the kind that asks why I’m doubting his superior Griffony skills.

  “So when you were flirting with her, you were actually trying to pique her interest so she’d attempt to pursue you?”

  He gives me a long look, the kind where one eyebrow crooks ever so slightly. “I wasn’t flirting with her.”

  “Please.” I make a scoffing noise and mimic, “‘If you’re looking for an experience that will change you, go south.’” I roll my eyes and take a long sip of coffee. “I won’t even mention all the talk of beaches and oceans and dancing in the dark.”

  Laughing just once—a sound that’s more of a low snort than a laugh—he takes the precious mug from my hands, sets it on the table behind me, and steps in so close I find myself swallowing. “I thought you’d realized—I wasn’t flirting with her. I was flirting with you.”

  It’s such a Jonathan thing to say, nothing new. But the way he’s looking at me, with his lips slightly parted in a small smile and eyes intent on mine…that is new.

  And scary.

  And if I’m honest…I kind of like it.

  But Finn hurt me, Gray was bound to, and Rafe and I have this magic thing I need to figure out.

  Oh, and let’s not forget that Jonathan’s a Grade-A Man Slut.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kingman,” Gray says from beside us, scaring me so badly I let out a peep of surprise.

  Where did he come from? Darn Wolf has the stealth of a Fox.

  Either that, or we were just that distracted.

  The perfect picture of guilt, we stumble apart. Jonathan composes himself before I do. “Hello, Gray.”

  “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time, sir,” the leader of our team says, deadly serious as he plays the role of Jonathan’s personal assistant. His eyes, however, glimmer with something less than friendly. “You have the phone conference in twenty minutes, and I wanted to make sure you remembered.”

  “Of course,” Jonathan says, nodding. “The phone conference.”

  Yes, the phone conference. Or as I
like to call it, Meeting Time with the Big, Bad Wolf.

  ***

  I trail Jonathan and Gray up to our room, listening to them jabber about a fictional business. We step inside and find Eric and Rafe waiting for us. Rafe stands by the balcony, looking outside, on guard as always. I pause when I see him, my stomach still in knots from last night’s closet escapade.

  Eric sits on the bed, cradling Charles, telling him what a good kitty he is.

  “What is he wearing?” I demand, gaping at my fussy hairless cat. He’s dressed in an orange pet sweater straight from a cheap department store. And if that’s not enough, he’s wearing a pumpkin hat with his ears sticking out. It even has a little green stem crocheted on top. If anyone but the Bunny tried to put that on him, they’d look like a pincushion.

  “It’s festive,” Eric says, holding the cat up for further inspection. Under the Bunny spell, Charles simply yawns and lets Eric show him off, Simba-style. He looks like a well-weathered, hairless gnome that outgrew his pumpkin home and decided to carry it with him like a hermit crab.

  “It’s disturbing,” Jonathan mutters, a sentiment that the other two men in the room heartily agree with.

  I point at Eric. “When we’re done here, I’m staging an intervention.”

  The big, burly Bunny chuckles like I’m joking.

  I’m not.

  The men begin talking about Phillip’s death, but I walk to my knight. He turns his head when I’m near. Things are…awkward, which I guess means he’s feeling a little out of sorts as well.

  As soon as I reach him, he says, “I’m sorry about last night.”

  Rafe’s looking straight ahead, out the window, avoiding eye contact. I rub the back of my neck, feeling like a fool.

  What got into us? Why does our magic have so much influence?

  “Me too,” I say.

  Finally, he looks at me. “It was a mistake. We’ll be more careful from now on.”

  Nodding, I agree.

  We study each other for a few moments, and then we each relax as we put the ordeal behind us.

  “Look here.” I dig into my pocket and produce my cell, waggling it back and forth in the air. “I remembered my phone.”

  “Good girl. Would you like a cookie?”

  “Do you have one?”

  He chuckles and then looks back out the window and frowns. Just above a whisper so as not to draw attention from the other three in the room, he says, “We have a small problem.”

  I step next to him, almost close enough my arm presses against his shoulder. I breathe in the light, now-familiar, fragrance of his aftershave, and our magic winds together, making me feel stronger. Right even.

  It’s irking me in a big way.

  “They’ve followed you.” Rafe subtly nods his chin toward the forest at the back of the house. It takes me a moment, but I see the creatures there, in the wooded shadows. They’re too well hidden to see what they are, but they’re small, far smaller than the winged cats. And there are lots of them.

  “I’ve already sent away a goblin,” I admit. “The day before yesterday.”

  Rafe turns to me, frowning, his forehead knitting. “How did you lose Jonathan?”

  I suck on my bottom lip, hesitant to tell him. From the way his mouth opens with surprise, I realize I won’t have to.

  Disbelief shadows his expression, and he looks at me like I’m the most foolish girl alive. And maybe I am. But I don’t regret telling Jonathan.

  “I trust him,” I whisper. As I say the words, I glance at the Griffon. He’s sitting on the end of the bed, hands resting behind him, perfectly at ease in his designer jeans and soft, blue knit shirt. The clothing is expensive but casual—a necessity when it comes to pretending you’re a gazillionaire, and he wears it well.

  Sensing me looking at him, he turns his attention to me, and our eyes meet. He gives me a smirk. It's a soft smirk. A warm smirk. A smirk that says I’m the only girl in the world. An honest-to-goodness Flynn Rider smolder.

  Darn it, he’s good. And he’s doing it on purpose.

  I bite back a smile, rolling my eyes, holding in a laugh.

  His smile grows, and then he turns back to Gray and continues their conversation like he’d been fully engrossed in it the whole time.

  “Besides,” I say to Rafe, my eyes still on Jonathan. “All it took was a few minutes alone, and he was already asking questions, already seeing through my lies.”

  Rafe shakes his head. “I knew it was a bad idea to leave you with the Griffon.”

  It’s the worry in the knight’s tone that makes me nervous. I turn back to him. “You trust him, don’t you? He’s your friend?”

  The knight’s hand finds my elbow, a subtle touch that brings us closer—anchors us together. Though it makes my magic swell with pleasure, it makes me jittery.

  “I would trust him with my life,” Rafe answers. “But not with yours.”

  “I can’t hide in my parents’ house forever,” I point out. “I do have to live. It might get messy—I know that. But you can’t expect me to stay locked in my tower.”

  He nods, a resigned smile ghosting across his lips. “Just be careful who you let your hair down for, princess.”

  “Not you too.”

  The fact that he still calls me Lexie is bad enough. Rafe does not need to adopt Gray’s snarky pet name for me as well.

  My knight drops my elbow like he’s going to step back, but he leans in, making sure only I will hear him. “Haven’t you realized it yet? You are a princess.”

  I glance outside, worrying my lip as I search the trees. “And monsters are my subjects. Quite the honor.”

  An enigmatic look crosses his face, and he steps closer. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you a queen.”

  His words, along with our magic twining, make me shiver. After the sensation passes, I meet his gaze. “Sometimes you worry me, Fox.”

  He grins, and his dark blue eyes spark with humor. “I just like to keep you on your toes. After all, you’re the one who always claims to be bored to death.”

  “More like scared to death. I know those creatures won’t attack me. But what about the humans? Or the team? Maybe I should hide at home, even if it’s just to keep the people around me safe.”

  Of course, when I stay home, there are “crocodiles” in the neighbors’ pools and reports of golden-eyed wolves prowling at night.

  Rafe doesn’t answer, not even to idly assure me everything will be all right. I step away from him, needing to break the connection.

  I join the team’s conversation just in time to hear Gray say to Jonathan, “Find a way to get close to Jenna; see what you can learn.”

  Jonathan glances at me, frowning ever so slightly. “Shouldn’t we wait for her to come to me?”

  “When do you wait for a girl to come to you?” Gray demands. “This is a cake assignment—you were born for this assignment. Go be all the player you can be.”

  “Right.” Jonathan shakes off whatever is plaguing him and gives us his signature devil-may-care smile. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Good. Now all of you out,” Gray says, his tone authoritative—almost like he’s begging someone to argue with him. “I need to talk to Madeline. Alone.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “And why exactly do you need to talk to Madeline?” I ask after the men shuffle out of the room, one more reluctant than the others.

  Gray crosses his arms, raising a single brow. “Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”

  “Never mind that.”

  I have no idea what Gray needs, but I know his time is limited. It was hard enough convincing Rafe to leave me alone with the Wolf. I’m not sure how long he’ll stay gone.

  “I’ve made many bad decisions in my life,” Gray says without a preamble. “Some of them I regret more than others. Some I don’t regret at all.”

  I wait, arms crossed, wondering where he’s going with this. He pauses, studying me as if he hasn’t actually s
een me for months. He looks different in the suit and tie he’s wearing for his personal assistant persona, a little more intimidating. Scary handsome. Dark hair, icy blue eyes, broad shoulders, broken dreams.

  The memory of our kiss flits into my mind, making me sad. The distance I’ve put between us never had anything to do with a lack of chemistry.

  He shifts his weight. “And while you are one I don’t regret—won’t regret—I’m sorry things are like this between us now. I hate it.”

  I wish I’d known this was the kind of conversation he had in mind. I would have run.

  I’m not good at dealing with these things—these emotional things. My magic wraps around my body, itching to cloak me and hide me away. But it’s too light in the southern facing room.

  “I…” I bite my lip, working out my words. “I don’t want to go back to the way things were between us.”

  “I know.” He steps forward. “And I understand that—I respect that. But you need to know you weren’t just another girl to me. And I’m sorry that you ever thought you were.”

  Part of me wants to cross the room, throw myself into his arms. He’d have me; I know it. But something holds me back, and it’s not that I don’t believe him. Because I do.

  After a few moments, I nod, accepting his apology. It’s all I can give him.

  The Wolf continues to study me, and finally, he frowns. “What’s going on with you and Rafe?”

  There it is, the actual reason I’m here—the real reason the chasm fell between Gray and me. Rafe. My knight. His former best friend.

  The man he brutally betrayed.

  “He’s a friend,” I answer, though I still don’t know if that’s true. Rafe has done a fantastic job of distancing himself mentally while nearly smothering me physically.

  “Friends aren’t that protective, princess.”

  Despite myself, I smile at the nickname and the affectionate way he says it. Lately, it’s been more a dagger than an endearment.

  “We’re not dating—if that’s where this oh-so-casual hinting is leading.”

  Gray straightens, shaking his head, putting on a surprised face even if he’s so very guilty. “What? No. That’s not—”