by Zoe Parker
“That was merely a cheap trick cast by a mage. I am too wise to fall for such antics,” Romiel defends.
“Romney, I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Mirelle speaks up from where she hides behind Romiel.
He looks at her like she has grown three heads.
“There is no one here strong enough to defeat me in combat, woman. Alagard is too old, and that imp standing next to her doesn't possess a drop of Magiks.” He points at Phobe.
Then he points at me. “She cannot fight me herself because she is ‘chosen’ so she has no choice but to pick from this group.”
I want to reach over and smack the stupid out of him.
Mirelle looks at me and I can’t help but smirk a little. I already got to smack it out of her.
“Jameson, what are the rules concerning a champion?” I ask my walking encyclopedia.
“You can pick anyone you wish as long as they are pure blood.” Jameson supplies, a smile on his face.
In the end, there isn’t really a choice to be made.
“Phobe shall be my champion,” I announce.
‘Had fun with that, did you?’ I ask in his mind.
Phobe knew all along, the smart bastard, and simply waited for his chance. I’m a little curious why he made it a goal to kill Romiel in this particular way. Because there is no doubt he’ll kill him.
‘A little,’ Phobe answers, a blank look on his face.
“That imp? Accepted.” Romiel sheathes his sword—the one that didn’t concern me at all, at any point. Shows how much of a threat I think he is. “Come, Mirelle, Kael wants to prepare our people for the news that I will soon be taking the Dark Throne.”
Wait, Dark throne? Does this idiot think he’s the king?
“See you after Harvest Moon,” Jameson calls out as Romiel, Mirelle, and her gaggle leave the Sidhe—out the actual door, this time. Jameson steps out of the crowd and stands beside me, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“When is the Harvest Moon, Jameson?” I lean towards him and kind of whisper.
“October fifth, Iza,” he loudly whispers back.
So, there are a few weeks to go before then. And the humans have a great holiday in October, too. Halloween! It’s our kind of holiday. Monsters and Magiks and candy. Lots of candy.
My stomach rumbles. “So, now that the excitement is over. Who’s ready for dinner? I’m starving.”
The people in room laugh as a group. The tension is gone, one part of it handled. Smiling people do the back-pat thing and laugh and chatter as they file into the dining hall. I slip away.
As I walk, I ask the Sidhe to have someone bathe poor Knox; his back is covered in gore. Then I push my mind away from the “chosen” crap and let my thoughts settle on one of the reasons I slipped away.
‘He follows you,’ Phobe cautions.
‘I knew he would. He’s not as smart as he thinks he is. He played his hand tonight, thinking the outcome was going to be different.’
‘He is torn between his lust for you and his lust for power.’ Is that a little irritation I hear in his voice? ‘Yes. It is an uncomfortable emotion. I plan on killing him regardless.’ That answers that question.
‘You can’t just kill someone you’re irritated with, Phobe.’ I try for a scolding voice, but my heart isn’t in it. Right now, I feel like killing someone.
‘Why not? He causes me discomfort, and now he has betrayed you. It is what you call a win-win situation.’
I hate when he uses logic against me.
As we walk, I tell him why I led Jake away versus killing him right there in front of everyone. ‘I figured you might be hungry. But I wasn’t sure if you needed to eat that kind of food still.’
‘It is still how I feed. What do you call it? Milkshake them?’
I fight the laugh that bubbles up. If I laugh, Jake will hear and be suspicious. So, I decide to take advantage of the good mood Phobe seems to be in.
‘Do you want to pounce before or after I kiss him?’ Maybe he just needs a little poke now and then?
“Do you wish to kiss him?’ That’s not the answer I expect. But with Phobe you don’t get what you expect, very often.
“Maybe. Depends on if he brought tic tacs to cover up the doggy breath.’
Phobe’s chuckle floating through my mind is so surprising, I stumble. That chuckle catches me in a place near my heart and stirs up feelings I’m still trying to understand.
Feelings I think both of us are struggling to understand.
Also, I need to fully grasp how his place in my life is different and is now going in a direction I know nothing about. If that kiss in the bathing pool is any indication, things are changing.
Dealing with this isn’t going to be easy. I need to work through my crap and move forward. He’s my best friend, but more than that. I didn’t understand it when we were in prison, but I’m starting to.
There are just so many other things to deal with too. The schoth, the Light Fey as a whole, and of course the humans.
‘They grow curious.’ Phobe’s voice is knowing.
The bastard is always snooping in my brain.
‘That’s not too big of a shock. We are growing in number daily. Numbers attract attention.’
‘They will make a move soon,’ he adds.
Well, that’ll be fun. And a chance for me to get some information I need. ‘Good. Then I might be able to find the wingless.’
The fact he gave them to humans is now known, and it explains why Kael is left alone by those humans to do whatever he wants. A bartered favor. Something right up his alley.
“Iza, wait up!” Jake calls from behind. I stop walking and turn to face him.
‘Although if you do kiss him, he will die more slowly,’ Phobe adds quietly.
‘You say the sweetest things, Phobe. Especially about things you have no say in.’ I can’t help but add that.
And throw my mental shields up. He doesn’t need to keep snooping. That little spiteful part of me is still a bit stung. And no one, not even Phobe, can tell me who I can or can’t put my lips on.
Not that they will go on Jake, but still.
That unexpected chuckle floats through my mind again.
I had my shields up, how the hell did he get past them?
‘Do not forget that I learn very quickly, Iza.’
That mother—
“Iza, I must speak with you about what happened,” Jake says, coming to a halt at my side.
Standing uncomfortably close to me, he positions himself between me and the wall. So close, I’m overwhelmed by the smell of the detergent he uses for his laundry. The instinct to remove the threat is hard to fight, but I do.
For the moment I will play along.
“What exactly is there to speak about, Jake? Phobe will face him, and that’s the end of it.” I raise an eyebrow when he smiles.
“It doesn't have to be. When Romiel defeats your elf, there are still many good things you can do. Things I’d like to help you do.”
Jake fancies himself a helper, does he? This is the first time he’s tried to ‘help’ with anything. As far as I know.
And how in the world did he get the elf thing?
“I didn’t realize you’re proactive in our little community here. I was told you haven't shown interest in helping,” I say.
In fact, Jameson said Jake goes out of his way to avoid doing anything other than annoying people. He refuses to work with the rest, at any job. He refuses to go out and help bring people in. Other than sleeping all day in the crappy room the Sidhe provided for him, he doesn’t do much of anything.
Now he’s pestering me. But this is the first time he’s gotten the balls up to speak to me. So, the lust thing Phobe mentioned is a bit beyond me. How can you want someone you know nothing about?
“Well, I figured I’m working more from the sidelines. Kael promised me a small ranch outside of town for helping him. You can stay there with me while they take care of the others,” he says, smili
ng.
My eyes narrow. Do what? Did he just blatantly admit his betrayal so openly and then invite me to be his girlfriend at the same time?
Is it an attack of the stupid day?
He caresses my face, something he should be smart enough not to do. I don’t exactly exude the teddy bear vibe. And if I didn’t need information from him, I’d rip his arm off and beat him to death with it. But this time I ignore the desire to hurt him, I need more information. But the way Phobe explained the way his ability works is that he needs idiot here thinking about it to get it.
Jake touches me again and it makes me shiver in repulsion. But he takes it as something else. Men like him do.
“What do you mean, take care of the others?” I ask, pushing down the urge to puke in his face.
Or rip it off and stomp on it. Either way would make me happy.
“Give them to the schoth king as a gift for negotiating. They’re wanted traitors. Kael said it will be enough to secure the treaties.” It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to eviscerate his guts.
Every ounce.
“Have you and Kael been friends for a while then, Jake?” I say through gritted teeth.
He nods as he kisses my cheek.
Slowly, I wipe the kiss germs off my face. I sincerely regret making the joke about him kissing me. ‘Phobe, you better be getting a lot of info right now.’
“We’ve been acquaintances for years. He’s told me all about your illness. He said that when you have episodes we can just chain you, and it will help with the transition—”
I can’t handle anything else coming out of his mouth. I interrupt, “Are there more of your friends hanging around?”
He’s frowning at me now. Starting to see through the very transparent ruse. “You have no interest in me at all, do you?”
I raise an eyebrow at his question. Duh. At no point in time since I came here did I show any sign of interest in him or anyone else. He came up with that all on his own.
“Nope. Especially considering you betrayed us all for a house, and thinking that Kael will stick to any kind of deal with you demonstrates how bad a case of the stupid you have.”
“Betrayed you? I want to survive this. Someone like you should understand that. You’re not going to succeed, and I don’t want to die along with the rest.”
Maybe we won’t succeed. But it won’t be him that stops us.
Patience at an end, I mumble, “Please kill him, before I do.”
Jake’s frown deepens as, abruptly, a large clawed hand digs itself into his brown hair and pulls him away from me. I watch Jake’s face and try to find pity for the shifter, but I can’t. He speaks of the others as if they’re insignificant, thinking only of himself.
“I told you it would be slower if he kissed you.” Phobe’s voice is a hiss in the darkness gathering around the shifter he holds in an unbreakable grasp. They both disappear.
Chapter Eighteen
Iza
“Iza, can I talk to you a minute?”
At the sound of Ruthie’s voice, I pause while toweling dry my hair to look at her. I wave towards the bed.
With a look of dejection on her face she flops onto my bed. “I need advice.”
Tossing the towel over the drying rack I sit on the bed beside of her.
“I’m flattered you’re asking me, but I’m horrible at advice,” I tease. Tossing the towel over the drying rack, I sit next to her, leaning against the headboard. I suspect that the advice she is looking for is of the romantic kind and I’m certainly not good with that. But for her I’ll try.
“See, I kinda sort of—” She twists her fingers around each other nervously.
“Have a crush on Michael? Yes, we all know. So, what’s the problem with it?”
She rolls her eyes at my question. I warned her I’m not the best person for this. “What if he doesn’t like me back the same way?” Her big brown eyes look at me, imploring and cutely pitiful.
I laugh. I can’t help it. This is hilarious. “Why in the world would you think that?”
“Well, when I try to talk to him he turns all red and stares at the floor.” At her answer, I laugh harder. “What is so funny about that?”
Laughing for another solid minute, I wait until I can breathe right before I say, “Does he bring you meat in butcher paper?”
She frowns and nods her head.
“Does he also give you weeds that sort of look like flowers?”
She nods again.
“Did he take you on a picnic and pee on a tree?”
When she nods this time, I start laughing all over again. Now I know where that internet search on romancing a werewolf came from on Jameson’s computer. And here I thought I would have something to tease Jameson about.
Now I have something to tease Michael about instead.
“Ruthie, just tell him that you like him. And maybe he’ll stop peeing on trees,” I say, giggling in between words.
“What if—”
I cut her off. “Ruthie, he’s peeing on trees because he thinks that’s how the internet told him that you court a werewolf.”
Her mouth falls open and she blinks a couple of times. Then she giggles, and giggles again. Within a few seconds she’s laughing so hard she’s holding her sides.
Suddenly she hugs me and hops off the bed.
“I’m going to get cleaned up and then tell him.” She leans over, hugging me again, and kisses my cheek. “Love you, Iza,” she calls as she runs out the door.
“Love you too,” I whisper, knowing it to be the truth. I’d die for these kids in a hot minute.
Shaking my head, I stand and head towards the closet to look for some shoes. A chime of music in my head from the Sidhe brings my gaze around to the door.
I’ll be damned.
“Iza, I need to talk to you,” Michael says from my doorway.
Turning towards him, I smile and ask, “Does it have to do with you peeing on trees?” The look on his face makes me break into laughter again.
“How do you know about that?” he demands in a fierce whisper as he shuts the door behind him.
“Something I have learned about the Google God is that it isn’t always honest. Why in the world would you search on there for ways to romance a shifter?” I ask, sitting back down on the bed.
“Iunno,” he mumbles.
Lifting his chin with my finger, I look into his blue eyes.
“Just tell her, Michael. Sometimes the most direct way is the best way to deal with these kinds of things. Saves you all kinds of anxiety and teenage angst.”
He blushes and smirks. “I am irresistible.”
Well, that escalated quickly.
“Yeah, not trying to crush your dreams of stardom or anything, but no, you’re not. However, you just might be to her. Now shoo, go talk to her.”
Leaning forward, he too kisses my cheek and practically skips from the room. I handled that better than expected. Maybe this advice thing isn’t so bad?
My stomach growls.
Now it’s time to deal with other things. Heading towards my closet, I pause at the door for a few seconds, just in case. When no one comes, I grab my shoes and head towards the kitchen, stopping to put them on while on the way there.
The sound of heated voices raised in an argument stops me in my tracks outside of the kitchen. Nika and Jameson. Stepping closer to the door, I wait to see what it’s all about.
“I can’t believe you were talking to the new imps in their bathing chambers!” Nika says in a rather shrill voice.
“Oh my god! You singed my hair! What’s the big deal? They’re nice and I figured this was all right since I spent four fucking hours washing dishes.” Wow, he sounds mad.
Washing dishes for four hours would make me mad too. I think Nika is taking advantage of Jameson’s reformation. I like it.
“You should be out there raking leaves,” Nika says with that haughty tone to her voice that I hate.
“Raking seems poi
ntless. They just keep falling down. Why not turn into your fat dragon form and use your meaty man hands to shake the leaves out of the tree?”
Oh, he totally went there. I’m surprised she didn’t smack him. Meaty man hands. I giggle, unable to help myself.
“Get out there and rake right now before I toast you like a kabob,” she threatens.
The door swings open and I step aside into the shadows. Jameson is so mad as he stomps past he doesn’t see me. Nika, slower to exit, does.
“When are you going to admit you want to do him and stop being a jealous twit?” I ask as I brush past her into the kitchen. I agree that Jameson needs to prove himself, but I don’t agree with her being mean to him because she’s petty. This is something she needs to stop doing before I stop it. Jameson doesn’t deserve it.
“My lady, I am—”
“So jealous it’s turning you bitter. Jameson loves women, and if you’d stop being a bitch you might have a chance with him,” I say as I start searching the cabinets for food.
“Jameson is not the type of mate I would seek out.”
“We both know that the destined mate shit is crap. That’s only in books. Dragons can mate with whomever they want to. My Mom proved that.”
“And look what happened.”
Her words stop me dead in my tracks. Turning slowly to face her, I squeeze the can of fruit in my hand until it pops. It’s the only thing that stops me from doing that to her head.
“You know I think for the most part you’re a sweet, kind person. But sometimes you’re a self-righteous bitch and it makes me want to make a pair of boots out of your lizard ass. Stop being an asshole to Jameson. Either tell him you like him or stop liking him. It’s that damn simple. Now, is there anything else?”
Her green eyes hold mine and two spots of red are on her cheeks. She nods and inclines her head and leaves the kitchen.
Shrugging, I keep looking for food. I spoke the truth and she knows it. Hopefully it gets through to her. She and Jameson actually kind of fit. He’d remove the stick in her ass and she’ll keep him from trying to stick things up every other woman’s ass.
Looks like a good match to me.
