by Deanna Chase
“They’re offering the vampires a place where they’ll be accepted. Somewhere they’ll fit in. I personally believe they’re underestimating the vampires—perhaps it’s their youth. I’ve never known a vampire who wanted to be accepted into any society or one to show loyalty to anyone but their own.” The stranger paused. “What drives vampires is to be a part of the hunt. You could offer that. They would be a powerful ally, which we sorely need right now.”
“The king would never let them in the hunt.”
“That’s why I’m bringing this to you.” There was a heavy silence. “Cheney, I know you don’t want to hear this, but perhaps your father’s time has ended. People are siding with the bloody half elves over us. We’d be foolish to think the fae aren’t unhappy. If it were only intimidation, we would’ve eliminated this problem long ago, but there’s a general sense of dissatisfaction in the air. However, I believe they would rally behind you. You have always been more open-minded and have had a better rapport—even more so since her.”
It was so quiet I thought maybe they left the room, but then the same voice said, “Hell, Cheney, look at what you’ve done.”
“This has nothing to do with that.”
“It has everything to do with it. When people find out, and they will, you will have drawn a line in the sand. Talk to your father. Convince him this is the only way. We must unite.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I’m asking you to do what’s necessary to win. Nothing more.”
Cheney sighed. “I’ll consider it.”
“Decide fast, my friend. We lose ground every day.”
When it was clear they weren’t going to say anything further, I climbed out of bed, smoothing the wrinkles from my clothes. I went into my bathroom and splashed water across my face before patting it dry with a towel. The face in the mirror looked pretty much the same, a little smoother perhaps and my skin a tad brighter, but all in all not bad. I took a closer look at my ears. They were pointed but nothing to send children running in fear. I could totally handle this. My stomach rumbled.
Breakfast before anything else.
I walked toward the kitchen where Cheney and the stranger stood, watching me approach. Cheney gave me a relaxed smile, and the stranger sized me up with concerned appraisal.
“You must be Sebastian,” I said, extending my hand. “I hear we used to be friends.”
A small smile tugged at Sebastian’s mouth. “That we were, Selene.”
He made no effort to hide the fact he was an elf. His close-cropped brown hair displayed his ears prominently, and he had strongly defined cheekbones and eyes that seemed to be made to worry. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he held himself with a rigid posture. His slight but agile build managed to appear deadly. His skin glowed with a silver hue.
“So, was I all sunshine and rainbows back then?” I asked, hoping my tone sounded joking.
“Not at all. You were ornery, opinionated, and always looking for trouble,” he said seriously.
Laughter spilled from me. I liked honest people. We were going to get along just fine. “How on earth did I ever become friends with a straight-laced nail-biter like you?”
“You remember me,” he said with wide eyes, looking over to Cheney.
“No. You just look like a worrier, and there’s something rather military about the way you stand.”
He nodded. “Not bad, half-elf.”
“I prefer half-human.” Cheney and Sebastian laughed and I grinned at them. Maybe this new life could work out.
“I swear some things never change. She meets me and immediately her claws are out and there’s fighting. She meets you and she’s joking within minutes,” Cheney grumbled while pouring a bowl of cereal.
“Well, he hasn’t followed me around or tried to scare me to death.”
Cheney shrugged and held out the full bowl. I lifted myself to sit on the counter and accepted the bowl.
Sebastian’s gaze darted back and forth between us but settled on Cheney. “It’s like no time has passed.” I couldn’t tell if he thought that was good or bad.
Cheney glared at Sebastian, all smiles and relaxation gone. The stare down lasted well past the point of comfort; obviously it was a bad thing.
“Well, we just took a detour to awkward,” I said lightly.
Sebastian gave Cheney an abrupt nod and looked away first. “My apologies, Selene. We’ll begin training downstairs in thirty minutes if that is acceptable. “
I nodded though I had no idea what he meant by training.
“Prince Cheney.” Sebastian gave a slight bow and disappeared from the room.
“What was that all about?”
“A difference of opinion.”
“That’s all you’re going to tell me?” I shook my head at this man and his partial information. “So what’s the deal with the prince thing?”
“What prince thing?”
“When I called you prince in my memory, it sounded like an insult. But when Sebastian said it just now, it was different, like he was deferring to your rank. But not everyone calls you prince.”
“It is my official title, but I have never cared much for titles so I rarely use it. Sebastian was making a point. You have only ever used it as a weapon in arguments.”
“So I had a hang up about it?”
“You could say that.”
“Why? After all, it’s who you are.”
Cheney moved closer to me. “It’s not who I am. It’s just my title.” The glint in his eye told me we’d had this conversation before and it didn’t go well.
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. It’s part of what makes you, you. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The title gives you power, authority—I can tell because you’re always bossing me around. To ignore it is to ignore part of yourself.”
Cheney’s mouth twisted. “Selene…” he said with a warning tone, obviously thinking I was trying to start an argument.
I held back my smile. The sun reflected off of Cheney’s golden eyes and his mouth parted in a too inviting way. Arguing was the last thing on my mind. I rather liked the Cheney who wasn’t certain of every move I was going to make. I reached out, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and tugged him close. “Prince Cheney,” I said with no mocking whatsoever.
He licked his lips as he looked back at me. “You had good reasons for hating my title.”
“But to hate that is to hate part of you. As your friend I should accept you, Prince Cheney.”
“Why does it feel like I’m never on solid ground with you?”
“Would you prefer I call you Mr. Hunt?” I asked innocently. Cheney chuckled. “Well then, my prince, are you going to kiss me or should we continue discussing names?”
“You’re going to be the death of me.” His mouth covered mine. Sparks and heat rolled through me instantly. “You can call me whatever you like, princess.”
Regardless of what my mind remembered, my body knew him and responded without hesitation. I slid off the counter and pressed up against him before jerking my head away with every last drop of willpower I had. “I have training.”
“Sebastian will wait.” Cheney pulled me back to him roughly. His mouth demanded my utmost attention and stole my breath, making my knees weak. My hands snaked beneath his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine. His mouth trailed to my jaw and neck, allowing me to breathe.
“I should really go to training. What type of training am I doing? Do I need to change my clothes?”
Cheney lifted up from my neck. “Selene,” he gave me a quick kiss on the mouth, “stop talking.”
I twisted out of his arms, feeling playful.
He made a growling noise and grabbed at me, but I deftly avoided him using the counter as a barrier. “Need I remind you, you started this?” Cheney said thickly.
I smiled. “I did start it, but I’m not finishing it. Not yet anyway.” The color in his eyes swirled as if it were liquid and his ears began
to point. “You’re losing your disguise.”
Cheney stopped and smiled. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Your ears are pointed.”
“Selene, my disguise is perfectly in check. You’re seeing through it.” He peered at me intently. “The elf is waking up.” He looked so pleased I wanted to kick him in the shins.
I pulled away, unable to stop my frown. “I have to change.” I turned for the bedroom.
“You’re not happy.” Cheney sounded amazed.
“Not particularly,” I said over my shoulder.
“Why?”
Where could I even start? I paused in the doorway and glanced back at him. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I prefer half-human.”
His mouth fell open slightly. “Selene—”
“Don’t. You aren’t going to change my mind. I accept that the elf part is here and part of me, but I’m not going to be happy about it. And the human side will not be taking a backseat to it.”
Green mixed back in with the gold in Cheney’s eyes.
I closed the door and rummaged through my suitcase until I found my yoga pants, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, frowning at the points on my ears. When I came out of the bedroom, Cheney was waiting for me by the door, his face expressionless. “Selene, we should talk about this.”
“Why? Look, I’m going to learn what I need to learn to protect myself. But nothing is going to change who I am. I don’t see why it has to.” A nagging feeling that I was being a hypocrite came into my mind. Didn’t I just tell Cheney that being a prince was part of who he was? How was this any different?
“There are things you do not understand. What you just said would upset a great number of people and put your life in further danger. You cannot talk like that, not being who you are.”
“Exactly who am I?”
His jaw flexed. “My wife.”
Chapter 17
My jaw fell open and I stared at him.
“I wanted you to remember it on your own.” Worry lined Cheney’s normally smooth face.
“You’re not joking, are you?”
Cheney shook his head. I was stunned. “What the…we…” I swallowed. “We’re going to talk about this—later, after I’ve had time to think about it. When I can think. How do I get downstairs?” I sputtered. Holy shit.
Cheney wrapped his arms around me, though I struggled, and moments later we were in what looked like a small gymnasium. I pushed away as soon as I could. I had just started to be okay with getting to slowly know Cheney and exploring my feelings, both new and old. How could he be my husband? How?
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Sebastian said.
“What?” I was distracted and seriously considering calling Sy and getting the hell out of there.
Sebastian lifted an eyebrow and looked over at Cheney, who still wore his stony mask. “Is this a bad time to start?”
“Yes,” Cheney said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“No,” I countered, looking at only Sebastian. “I’m ready.” I needed something to take my mind off of this. I needed Sebastian not to leave Cheney and me alone. Anger rolled off of Cheney in furious waves, and his elf features blazed forth.
Sebastian looked at Cheney, who gave him the slightest nod.
“Dodge,” Sebastian said, pulling a tennis ball out of thin air and hurling it at me so quickly I could barely see it.
“What? Ow!” The ball hit me with such force I staggered. Son of a bitch. That was going to leave a mark. Another ball was already flying at me. I barely stepped out of the way when another pelted me in the thigh. About a hundred balls later and only a handful of dodges, I sat of the floor catching my breath and rubbing my arms—but no longer thinking about being anyone’s wife. Mission accomplished.
“Next time, a little explanation about what you’re going to do and what I’m supposed to do would be appreciated,” I grumbled.
“Do you think people stop in a battle to tell you exactly how they’re planning to attack?”
“I think anyone would be caught unaware springing a surprise on them like that.”
Sebastian nodded, pulling another ball out of the air. He whipped the ball at Cheney—who wasn’t even looking at us—so hard I couldn’t see it. Cheney stepped to the side, frowning. The ball smashed into the wall behind him. “You’re training her, Sebastian, not me,” Cheney snapped.
Sebastian continued his assault with increasing speed and power. Cheney avoided all the balls easily while walking towards us. He plucked the last ball from Sebastian’s hand before he could throw it. “I’m not in the mood,” he growled.
“That’s how it is done, Selene.” Sebastian ignored him. “Do you care to try again?”
Before I could answer, Cheney smiled without humor. “I think Selene will do better with hand to hand.”
“She’s out of shape. She hasn’t mastered dodging. You cannot start hand to hand—”
“I am not out of shape,” I said cutting him off, offended. “I’ve taught multiple yoga classes a day for years and run at least five miles a day.”
“It’s not a good idea,” Sebastian said. “Don’t be goaded into doing this.”
“It’ll be fine. Keep score,” Cheney said, smirking.
I stood up, stretching my limbs and rolling my shoulders. I’d never been in a fight with anyone in my entire life, nor had I ever wanted to be. The idea of hitting Cheney, however, appealed to me greatly. “So how do I fight?” I asked them.
“Cheney, you can’t do this,” Sebastian protested.
“I can do whatever I want.” Cheney gave him a somewhat manic smile. “All you have to do to fight, princess, is remember.”
A moment later he was behind me, pinning my arms down with one hand and holding a knife to my throat with the other. “Point,” he whispered in my ear, releasing me and stepping back.
Anger and embarrassment gushed through me.
Sebastian handed me a stick that was about three feet long. “You can stop any time you want. But if you can hit him with this, you get a point.” He shook his head and stepped back with his arms crossed over his chest.
An instant later I was on my back with Cheney on top of me. “Point. Come on, princess, you aren’t even trying.”
I pushed him off, scrambling to my feet. The smug son of a…Cheney scooped me into his arms. It was humiliating. “Put me down,” I growled.
“Point,” he called out merrily, then sat me on the floor.
I was so angry, so mortified, my vision waved like I’d been in the heat too long. Cheney looked full elf to me right now. I closed my eyes against the image and something amazing happened—I heard him coming. I swung my arm in the direction he came from. When I opened my eyes, the wooden stick was flat against his chest. “Point,” I said, trying not to jump up and down with giddy excitement.
Sebastian looked like he could’ve been knocked over with a feather. “How did you do that?” he asked. “Your eyes were closed.”
Cheney looked down at his chest then back at me and nodded. He pulled a wooden stick identical to mine from the air. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He twirled the stick in his nimble fingers.
“Cheney—” Sebastian began to protest again.
“She’s always been good with swords. Isn’t that why you gave her the pole?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. We’ll take it slow.”
Cheney was true to his word. He walked me through basic fencing moves, showing me how to hold the weapon and the proper stance. Later, when we were sparring, he moved much slower than I knew he could and only ever tapped me lightly. My control left a lot to be desired. When I hit him, it was with much more force. Luckily my hits were few. Hours passed as we practiced. They offered to let me take a break several times, but I was determined to get it, so I pushed us on. By the time Cheney insisted we stop, it was dark outside, and my movements were sluggish at best. The three of us wen
t upstairs for dinner. I collapsed on the couch half dead.
“I wouldn’t lie down if I were you,” Sebastian called from the kitchen. “You won’t be able to get back up.”
I pulled myself off the couch and discovered my muscles had already begun to stiffen, so I headed for a shower. As the water ran over me, the thoughts I’d been avoiding all day rushed back with a vengeance. Yes, I was attracted to Cheney. That was undeniable. But his wife? I couldn’t be his wife. I’d remember something like that! Every conversation and fight we’d had since he showed up in my life played through my mind. It was no wonder he reacted so poorly to Michael. It was like I was shoving my cheating in his face.
I was a cheater.
I felt sick. But at least this explained why he was here and what everyone seemed to believe I should remember. I got out of the shower and slipped on a light, loose fitting dress. The guys were already at the table discussing my training. I prayed tomorrow would be a rest day, though it didn’t sound like it. I looked at the food in front of me. I wasn’t feeling very hungry, but I knew I needed to keep my energy up.
“You have to eat,” Cheney said, barely pausing from his conversation with Sebastian.
“I know.” I lifted my heavy, stiff arm to scoop whatever the mushy stuff was in front of me. I’d never seen anything less appetizing. I took a bite. It pretty much tasted like it looked—like a wet, moldy sock.
“What on earth is this?” I interrupted them.
“Gark,” Sebastian said with enthusiasm. “It has all the necessary vitamins, minerals, and nutrition you need to be strong.”
“It’s a gelatinous mound.”
“It’s the most efficient food choice.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m eating this.”
Cheney grinned. “I told you she wouldn’t eat it.” He handed me a different plate, one with a turkey sandwich and a salad.
“The two of you are impossible.” Sebastian shook his head. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been beaten with a wooden pole…Oh, wait, wait—I have been beaten with a wooden pole.”
“You did well today, better than I expected. What did you learn?”
“Cheney’s a lot faster than I am—and he hits girls.”
