by Holley Trent
Jeff plopped a cold bottle of water in front of Ollie, and Ollie grunted his thanks.
Jeff started wiping that invisible spot again. “Lay it on me.”
“All right. Have you been keeping up with the news from the group in New Mexico?”
Jeff did the psychic equivalent of a chortle. “Yeah, I read the newsletter. Muriel found her girl. Good for them. They’re big on their hierarchy, ain’t they?” He made a moue of distaste.
Ollie understood Jeff’s revulsion. Their group had no such structure. They’d isolated themselves from the Afótama community pretty much from the time they stepped foot on North American soil. Yeah, they’d ended up in the southwest just like them—and others of their kind—but that was coincidence. They’d fled toward the frontier, and they just happened to be going in the same direction.
The Afótama were just too fucking caught up in order and rules, and sometimes folks needed room to stretch their wings. Ollie had had enough bosses in his life, having done his stint in the Air Force. He was his own boss now, and hadn’t wanted a queen.
And then he saw her. He knew she was his.
Ollie put the water bottle to his lips and took a long swallow. “Yeah. Contessa. They call her Tess. She’s the real deal. They had the DNA checked and everything. They’re set to inaugurate or whatever they do for the queen tomorrow. Word is she’s going to pick a consort, too.”
Jeff’s silver eyes went wide and he stopped scrubbing. “Damn, they move fast. Efficient motherfuckers, aren’t they? She’s either already knocked up or she found one of their guys on the outside and brought him in. Well, good luck to her. Learning curve is going to be a son of a bitch for someone who’s been out of the loop all her life.”
Ollie’s fist had tensed around the water bottle, sending the contents puddling onto the counter, but he’d barely noticed the mess because Jeff’s words were that distracting.
No way could she be mated already. No fucking way.
Jeff sighed. “Giving me something to clean up for real, huh?”
When Ollie didn’t answer immediately, Jeff turned his back and fiddled with the canister he used to store peanuts.
“You’re defensive about her. Why?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Come on, man. We go back to preschool days. If you say it, I’ll believe it. Try me.”
“Well, you asked for it, so I will. That’s her.”
Jeff turned. “What’s who?”
Ollie’s shoulders fell. “The woman. The phantom who has been inflicting me with pernicious blue balls for the past six years. The one who haunts my sleep.”
Jeff shook his head and tossed his rag onto the counter. “You are so fucked.” He cringed, and added telepathically, “Even if Muriel lets you into her home, I doubt she’d let you anywhere near her granddaughter because of that whole pariah outcast thing. Remember that? When our big brawny guys left their skinny asses on the coast with the wee baby Sævör and told them to fend for themselves?”
“She’s mine, Jeff. I know it.”
Jeff leaned his elbows onto the bar top and scoffed. “Wouldn’t that be just your fucking luck, dude? Defective wife, and now a mate whose grandma ain’t gonna let you near her heir.”
“She’ll have to. I know the rules.”
Jeff scoffed. “Rules? You’re real forgetful today. We ran from them rules.”
“No, our ancestors did. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know them. She’s mine, and I want her. She’s my match.”
“Okay. Sure you do, and sure she is. What are your boys gonna say?”
As if Ollie hadn’t given that any thought. He’d been thinking about nothing but the consequences ever since that e-newsletter from the Afótama information office hit his inbox. “The boys are going to have to get over it.”
Ollie tossed Jeff a few bills for the water and the shots, and slipped his leather jacket on. “I’ll call my aunt to check in on the boys. Norseton’s a fifteen-hour ride from here. I’m leaving now to get there before one of those suburban pansies stakes a claim on her. If they touch her, I’ll…” He pinched his lips together on the words he knew he’d regret uttering.
He knew what he was and what his father’s line was bred to be. He was meant to be big and ruthlessly violent—a defender. But, his mother had raised him to be a gentleman. He’d abide by the customs and hold his fucking temper in check or else. He hadn’t lost it in all those years with his late wife, and he wasn’t going to lose it now. For some reason, though, his anger was becoming so much harder to tamp down.
No, he knew the reason.
Contessa.
She was going to steamroll him, and he didn’t care one bit.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nan led Tess down the wide aisle with their arms hooked, waving at the Afótama in congregation.
“Smile, child,” she projected.
Tess sighed and put on the happiest face she could manage. She was doing all she could to stay upright.
The mansion’s assembly room had been cleared of its tidy rows of heavy wood tables and hard-backed chairs to make space for a standing room only gala.
Long live the matriarch. Long live the queen.
Tess hadn’t known what to expect. Not a coronation of any sort. It’d been obvious from the moment she’d stepped onto the tarmac at the local airport that her grandmother wasn’t that kind of queen. There wouldn’t be crowns or scepters. No thrones to sit on.
There was a dais and a microphone stand set behind a large, tasteful floral arrangement, and that’d been it.
Nan had said a few words, but Tess hadn’t heard a single one of them. There had to have been a hundred people in that room, and all eyes on her. Their thoughts swirled in her head like sharks in a chum-filled tank.
Too close.
Too many.
She didn’t need ceremony to take on the queen’s burden. That had started the moment she’d taken Harvey to bed. Her brain had been a confused muddle before, but now it was a non-stop hum of voices that increased in volume with every new connection she made.
The receiving line had been a special kind of hell.
Gods.
Nadia caught up to them at the end of the aisle and grabbed Tess’s free arm. “You’ve got to stay up late and party with the little kids. There are balloons and face painting and everything. Come on, it’s traditional. It’ll be a good chance for you to network with some of the mommies and kids our future heir will rub little chubby elbows with.”
Tess nearly tripped over the hem of her ball gown, but Nan and Nadia kept her upright. “Why do you hate me so much? I can’t do it. No fucking way. If one more person touches me tonight…”
“What makes you think I hate you?” Nadia asked. She pulled the top of her strapless leather dress up a little higher over her tits and crossed her arms over them.
“You’re joking, right? If I were drowning, you would wait an extra five seconds to see if I figured out how to rescue myself, and then if you did save me, you’d bark at me for causing your make-up to smear.”
“Not true. Nan would kill me if I let you drown.”
“See my point? Also, you stabbed me in the neck two weeks ago. Let’s not forget about that.”
Nadia shrugged. “So I jumped the gun. No one’s ever accused me of being tentative.”
“Do you need more cuddling in your life or something? Is that what it is?”
“I usually sleep with Nan when I’m here, but she kicked me out. She says I bruise her shins.”
Tess turned to Nan. “Is she kidding?”
“No. She’s like most of us. A bit…surly when she’s skin-starved. And, yes, she’s a bruiser. She needs to find a new bedmate, and if you’re not going to let Mr. Lang back into your suite, it may as well be you. Oh, she’s pulling your leg about partying with the kids, though. There’s no such tradition, but I must say the children are very curious about you. The boys think you’re pretty.”
�
�Good to know they have their priorities straight. And you know why I haven’t let Harvey in.”
“They’re Afótama. They’re like that from a young age. And, yes, I know the cause of your separation. Reconnect with him tonight, though. I know your head is a wilderness right now, but you’re queen. You need him to fill in your gaps. It’s important.”
“I’ll try.”
They stepped through the double doors leading into the closed-off administrative offices, and the guard closed the door behind them. The music in the assembly hall cranked up, and cacophonous laughter pealed occasionally over the rock and roll of the live band.
Tess could finally breathe. Her shoulders fell from her ears, and she rolled them back, moaning indulgently.
“They do expect you back in there to mingle,” Nan said, tipping her head toward the doors.
“But if we keep the champagne flowing they won’t give a shit,” Nadia said. “Break out the good stuff. How often do we have reason to celebrate shit around here?” She did a little shimmy that made Nan roll her eyes.
“Go on up to your suite, Tess,” Nan said. “I’ll bring you up some dessert in a while. It won’t cure your headache, but at least it’ll soothe your spirit.”
“Sounds good to me.” She stepped out of her pinching stilettos and grabbed them by the heels. “You’ll find Harvey and send him up? I haven’t seen him in about an hour.”
“I’ll find him,” Nadia said. “He’s probably hanging out with my dad and Jody talking about security stuff. That’ll be his job soon.”
“Right.” Tess curled her toes into the carpet and willed herself to take the few steps to the stairwell. She didn’t even have to look to know she had some fantastic bruises on her feet, and probably a couple of blisters, too. She’d been on her feet for three fucking hours, and not a sip of booze had passed her lips.
Torture.
“You need directions?” Nadia asked.
“Ha ha. I’m going as soon as the cramps in my feet wind down. Fuck you for picking out five-inch heels for me, by the way.”
Nadia somehow managed to properly curtsy in her ultra-tight dress. “Love you, cousin.”
“Hopefully no one thinks they’ve inherited a weak queen because I didn’t stick around tonight.” Tess shifted her weight from one painful arch to the other. “You know, I’ve been in much more stressful situations in the past. There was this one time I fled a police chase by running into the back door of a Miami strip club. I had my clothes off by the time I made it to the stage. The cops had walked from the back door, and through the club—but they wouldn’t look up, you know? I guess they were too green and respectful. Had their blinders on and didn’t see a thing.”
Nan shook her head and waved a dismissive hand at them. “I don’t want to hear this. So, what happened next?”
Nadia cackled.
Tess shrugged. “Well, I finished the set and picked up a cool two hundred bucks. Then I grabbed my clothes, ran, and vowed from that point out to never again borrow a police officer’s motorcycle. That was different, though. I know how to run and how to fight, but this…” She gestured to the assembly hall and all the people within it. “I’m not wired for this.”
In the two weeks since she’d tapped into the web, instead of getting better at corralling its information, psychic snippets bounced around in her head like mechanized Ping-Pong balls. She couldn’t shut them off, and there was no switch to mute them. The intensity was worse than a migraine she couldn’t shake. The only thing that gave her some semblance of control was to sit in a dark room alone with her eyes closed, repeating things over and over again. Lately, Imagine Dragons lyrics were doing the trick.
“I’ll see you in a bit.” She retreated to her suite, tossed her shoes onto the floor, and collapsed onto the end of the bed. No sooner had she closed her eyes was there a tap on the door.
“That was fast.”
Nan must have grabbed the first dessert plate that crossed her path.
“Come in. I haven’t even taken my dress off.”
The heavy wooden double doors creaked as they were pushed inward, and Harvey stepped just across the threshold.
She chuckled to herself, observing he’d been trussed up pretty splendidly himself. He was always well put-together in his quality suits and well-cut shirts, but there was something to be said for a tuxedo on a tall, athletic man. She eyed him from the tips of his polished shoes, up the long legs she knew were all lean muscle from years of competitive swimming, past his trim waist, and paused at his bow tie, dangling at the neck.
He’d looked far more comfortable than she had during her official, and overdue, ceremony. He knew her well and spoke for her when she couldn’t string a sentence together, and made her social debut all around less awkward. He was in his element around their people, whereas Tess was drowning in them.
“Tess,” he said, and his deep voice stirred her back to the here and now—to his face.
His eyes were narrowed in consternation. He had his lips set in a tight line, and his eyebrows bunched.
And he just stood there in the doorway.
“You volunteered, Harvey.” A grin pushed at her cheeks. “Did you finally understand what sort of walking disaster you’d be aligning yourself with forevermore?”
He shook his head. “I’ve known for a long time what sort of disaster you are. That wouldn’t make me change my mind. I like a challenge.”
She crossed her legs at the knees and leaned back onto her elbows, cocking up an eyebrow. “Still intent on taming me, then? You should know better.”
Once more, he shook his head. “I like you wild.”
“Then what?”
His lips parted and he drew in a deep breath, but when no words came out, Tess felt a prickle of disquietude that had nothing to do with the sort of psychic she was supposed to be. The warning bells going off inside her were due purely to observation, because she knew him that well.
He didn’t say anything, but turned his head minutely to the left as if he heard something Tess could not. He took a few more steps into the room and turned his back to Tess, and before she could ask him what was bothering him, Nan entered the room, clutching the long skirt of her ball gown to hold the hem off the floor.
Tess stood. “Nan?”
Nan dropped the skirt and shifted her clear blue gaze from Tess to Harvey, and then back to Tess. “We have an unexpected situation,” she started, and there was a bit of a nervous warble in her usually commanding tone. When she spoke, people listened and had no doubts that they should obey. Everyone knew she had the ear of the gods through Ótama, and was rumored to be highly favored by the goddess Gefjon. The Afótama greenhouses practically overflowed with fruits and vegetables, in spite of the shortage of water in the desert. Karmic payback for their people starving back in Europe.
“What’s wrong, Nan?”
“Usually, when a man claims one of our women, there’s no contention or challenging.”
Tess shook her head. “Challenge? But—”
“But some asshole seems to think I’m not alpha enough for you, Tess,” Harvey said with a dry bark of laughter that couldn’t sound further from mirthful. He dragged a hand through his loose hair and gave it a small yank. “He doesn’t think a guy like me is cut from the right cloth to be the queen’s consort, but if he thinks he’s going to just walk in here and put his mark on you like you’re a piece of goddamned property—”
Nan didn’t say anything, at least not aloud, but Harvey’s words came to an abrupt stop.
She twined her fingers together at her belly and turned her head toward Harvey.
He bowed slightly, and said quietly, “I apologize, Muriel, but given the circumstances…”
“I’m aware of the circumstances, Mr. Lang, and my last job before I completely abdicate is deciding what to do about them. If I’d ever thought I’d be in a situation where I’d have to mediate a partnership debate over my own granddaughter, I would have bet good money on it.”
“What you’re saying is that this has never happened since you’ve been queen?” Tess asked. She appreciated they were speaking aloud instead of trying to converse telepathically. She would probably have crumbled under the added mental onslaught.
Nan turned back to Tess and shook her head. “Most of us have a good idea of who we’d like to pair off with from the time we’re very young, and others respect that potential bonding.”
“I don’t like it,” Harvey said.
Tess scoffed. “Well, I don’t like any of this. I’m supposed to be queen, and yet I feel like I don’t have a say in what’s supposed to be one of the most important decisions of my life. I chose Harvey. I knew what I was doing when we…”
She zipped her lips. No need to go into graphic details.
“Of course you have a say,” Nan said. “All I ask is of you, as your queen, is that you try to respect the old ways, although you weren’t raised in them.” She pressed her hands to Tess’s shoulders and rubbed up and down her arms. Her expression softened. “As your grandmother, I only ask that you try to keep our family tree from coming to an abrupt halt. We’ve got deep roots, and short branches, my love. It’s not just your burden, but Jody’s and Nadia’s as well.”
Tess didn’t doubt her brother and cousin had already gotten the be fruitful and multiply speech numerous times already, because they were also keeping with the trend of the generation and hadn’t yet taken partners. Apparently, it was Tess’s job to lead the charge.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked on a sigh.
Nan’s smooth forehead furrowed, and she chafed Tess’s shoulders some more. “The challenge is yours as much as it is Mr. Lang’s. If Mr. Gilisson is strong enough, he can force the pairing. It rarely happens, as it’s something we look down on. In fact, most view it as a sort a crime when it’s done to the clan’s rulers, but again, it’s one of those things that hasn’t happened in so long that I can’t suggest a course of action for you.”
“I may not be great at jumping to conclusions, but I do have a good gut for actions. I do the instinctive thing. It usually works out. I’m sure it will this time, too.” Tess sounded more confident than she felt. She hoped that she could plot a path out of the mess. If she had to bond with anyone, she’d prefer it to someone she knew and liked.
