by Emma Alisyn
“I can’t abide rudeness,” he growled.
“Cutting in during a dance is common,” she said.
His eyes narrowed, and he smiled a bit. “That’s fine. I’ll just spread the word.”
About what, she wondered? “Niko, don’t make anyone think we’re . . . together.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not true.”
He said nothing, then shrugged. She didn’t think it was a shrug of agreement. She was beginning to understand, recalling all her interactions with him, some of them borderline heated, that he wasn’t a man who argued. He just drew a line in the sand, and let everyone else dance around it. That was a good, and a frustrating trait.
“You said my name.”
She had, with an unconscious familiarity she hadn’t intended. She opened her mouth to demur, and he shook his head. “Don’t, Bea.”
The music slid into a different beat, and Bea pulled away from him, avoiding his eyes. “I’m going to find Veda and have her point out which drinks aren’t alcoholic.”
He let her go, though she felt his gaze on her back as she walked away. He was a hunter, but at least he was a patient one. Bea took a deep breath, exhaled. Small mercies, anyway. Niko might be the type to actually let her have time to come to a decision, rather than making her beat off a clumsy, aggressive advance. It made her like him a little more, though she still wasn’t convinced by a long shot.
Despite Prince Geza being a ruler, and likely rich as Croesus if he was anything like her employer, the party was considerably relaxed. No fancy waiters passing around drinks, nothing hoity toity. An abundant buffet and a well-stocked bar with an attendant, but nothing that you wouldn’t find catered at any function where budget wasn’t an option.
A ripple of sound at her back; she glanced over her shoulder. Niko was almost on her heels. She sighed and stopped, turning to give him a look.
He correctly interpreted her expression. “I have to stay close to you,” he said. “My interest has been noted. I’ve already diverted three potential nuisances.”
“I’ll find Veda,” she said, firm. She needed to break up the vibe humming between them now. She wasn’t in the market for a one night, or even a one week liaison. “She’ll be guardian enough for the evening.”
His eyes narrowed, but he sighed. “Stick close to her, if not me. No one will try and tempt you into any mischief, then.”
She made her way across the floor towards Veda, who was chatting with another female, when a male stepped into her path. A polite but firm rebuff hovered on her lips until she recognized who the male was. He had Malin’s face, but not the bulk around the shoulders, or the stern quality to the mouth.
“Prince Geza,” Bea said, flustered, then dipped a small curtsey.
“None of that,” he said, and grinned, energy crackling. He would exhaust her if she had to be near him every day. “You’re Malin’s girl, the one Surah won’t shut up about.”
She didn’t know quite how to take that. “I’m Prince Malin’s personal assisstant.”
“You’re the one, then.” He snapped his fingers. “Surah’s always going on about how well you handle us. It’s rare, in a human female.” His eyes traveled down her body, and it was slightly lascivious. “Are you with Niko?”
Evidently he could stand in the middle of his own dance floor and ignore the people around them indefinitely. Bea was glad her skin tone hid her blush. She didn’t like the attention.
“I’m with Veda.”
His eyes widened.
“Not that way,” she said. “I mean, I came here with Veda. Niko and I—we’re just . . . I know him because of Veda, but we’re not together.”
Geza glanced over her shoulder. “He wants to slit my throat.” The Prince grinned, malicious. “I’ll meet him on the training field later. The bouts are always more fun when they aren’t worried about offending me.” He grabbed her wrist. “Come on, dance with me. Let’s fuck with him. If he hasn’t made you a decent offer, he will after this.”
“But I don’t want an offer!”
He swung her into the dance. “Why not? You’re not married.” His gaze was keen. “You don’t like gargoyles?”
“The males are positively antiquated.”
Geza laughed. “Yes. But Niko has human blood. He’d be easier to manage.”
“You’re not supposed to have to manage a husband.” She snapped her mouth shut. No one had been talking about marriage.
“He’s getting restless, I recognize it now when it happens. I’ve lost a handful of my best guards to other flights because they wandered off and found females elsewhere. He doesn’t like any of the females in our community—which makes sense. A male usually wants to wed a version of his mother. Stacia’s the only one among us right now with human blood. Besides Surah, anyway.”
She stared at the Prince, annoyed now. “Are you asking me to encourage Niko, so he doesn’t quit his job?”
Geza blinked. His lashes were lovely, long and feathery. “I’ll dower you. I really need my loyal guards right now. And, I have plans for him that require he not go anywhere.”
“I’m going to tell Prince Malin on you,” she said, tone repressive.
He shrugged. “He’ll agree with me. Besides, there are worse reasons to wed.” His brow arched. “Unless you’re interested in me? You aren’t really my type, too wholesome, but I’m bored so it would be a nice diversion.” His eyes traveled over her body. “A very nice diversion.”
The Prince pulled her in closer, arms tightening and the flash of heat and strength in his eyes both intimidated and affected her. But, just for a moment.
“Prince Geza, I’m flattered. But, I’m just not good enough for you.”
He snorted, looking back over her shoulder, then smirked. “How about a kiss, sweet? By the time I’m done, I guarantee he’ll be dragging you off to . . . an altar. My reputation has its occasional uses.”
7
Damn Geza.
He was taunting Niko. He recognized the flash of insouciant challenge in his Prince's eyes, but Niko buried his first instinct, and thought hard. Geza was no fool—and he also wasn’t a male who stole females already marked by other warriors. For all his partying, playboy ways, that was one thing no one could accuse the Prince of. So, he held his peace, because he wasn’t certain what the game was. But, if Bea was with the Prince, at least no one else would approach her and force Niko to spill blood on the pretty tile.
How long had it been since he’d hunted a female? Too long. He’d submerged physical desire into training, distaste at meaningless liaisons increasing as he grew older. Though he felt no strong desire to marry, sex without . . . attachment . . . no longer appealed. His mother was right. He needed someone to come home to, to share his evening with. He hadn’t realized his dissatisfaction and disdain of the ladies of the court was a reaction to his frustration at being unable to pinpoint exactly what, or who, he wanted. He was beginning to understand himself, though, watching as Bea left him, eyes bright. He couldn’t see the blush of color under her brown cheeks, but the flicker of her lashes and hurried way she fled, all while looking covertly over her shoulder, told him all he needed to know. He affected her, and she was wary.
Not because he was a threat, but as a male who wanted her. Maybe he’d made his desire too plain. But he’d preferred to give her the respect she was due as a high-level employee of the former Prince, and a mother. No need to play games with words. No need to do anything but stake a claim.
There’d been one crystal-clear moment when she’d walked in, Veda at her side. Hiding nervousness under a calm, smiling exterior, a bit of wind from the open balcony doors playing with the hem of her skirt. The moment he’d heard other males experience at least once in their lives; the moment when whatever dark thing it was inside them that made them gargoyle, and warrior, said ‘this one is mine.’
So he watched coolly as Geza claimed her for a dance. The Prince glanced at him, a di
rect, mocking smile on his face. His liege was amusing himself, thinking Niko was going to break discipline and entertain them all. Niko crossed his arms, unmoving. Let Geza dance with her. As long as he didn’t try anything more intimate, Niko wouldn’t cause a scene.
She moved well, a grace and ease to her body language that made Niko proud of her. She didn’t drape herself over the Prince, or appear nervous, or otherwise make a fool of herself. In fact, she appeared to be enjoying a pleasant, casual conversation as if they were equals, her posture perfect.
“She’s not a girl for a fling,” Veda said.
He glanced at his sister. He’d seen her make her way through the crowd after noticing Geza’s dance partner.
“I never said anything about a fling,” he said.
“You’ve been watching her, though. And you have that look in your eyes. I’m just saying—she’s a mom with a stable job, and a life. Don’t treat her like a groupie.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” He wasn’t insulted by his sister’s warning. It was good Bea inspired such loyalty. “She’s still skittish, anyway. I’ll go slowly, and if she decides she doesn’t want me, I’ll back off.”
“Good.” Veda nodded, satisfied. “They look good together dancing. I didn’t know she could move so well, she told me she wasn’t a good dancer.”
“She lied.”
Veda laughed a little. “Hey, I thought I knew all the humans on the guest list. Who’re those women? New groupies Geza let crash?”
Niko glanced at the two dancing females, edging closer to Geza. It could be a coincidence, the ebb and flow of the music, but he doubted it.
He sighed. “Where is his security? They’re supposed to be keeping the women away.”
Veda snorted. “He gave them the evening off so he could party in peace. That’s what Surah said, anyway.”
But as Niko was watching the women, his instincts went on edge. There was something wrong. Neither appeared inebriated, and neither appeared to be particularly enjoying themselves. They moved well, and ignored the social advances of other dancers in the group. One female watched Geza, while the other kept her eyes on the crowd–glances a little too aware. This was a party, and they were on surveillance. They were either reporters, spies, or…
Niko strode forward, cutting through the crowd just as the female couple broke from each other, one spinning in an expert move towards Geza as the other took up a defensive position. Niko’s wings snapped open and he launched into the air, a giant half leap clearing the heads of the partiers, growling the Prince’s name.
Geza was no fool, and his reflexes were that of any highly trained, well-bred warrior. He moved a bare moment before the female attempted to strike, throwing Bea out of the way and into the arms of a trusted gargoyle, blocking the strike with one wing as the other flared out to sweep the woman’s feet out from under her. She’d likely been counting on his distraction and possible inebriation to take the chance to get inside his guard before wings could come into play.
Her feet tangled, hand in a claw as she swiped at him. Niko was there a split second later, a quick glance showing a gargoyle making quick work of the other female, and Malin doing the same half hop into air Niko had executed, grabbing her wrist in a grip guaranteed to break the bone if she moved.
“I don’t need your help,” Geza snarled. Guests cried out, startled from the commotion, several people clearing the area even while others lingered.
“It’s my privilege, and my duty,” Niko replied, voice cold. Geza had no choice. He was the Prince, Niko was his guard, even if only a lower-level, palace guard. But after tonight, and the incompetent behavior of Geza’s personal warriors—they never should have allowed the Prince to order them away—he was considering taking the trial for the open position.
Geza turned his head, searching the crowd. “Is the woman unharmed?”
“I’m fine,” Bea said, voice strong.
Niko suppressed a smile. She could have used the opportunity to shriek, cry, or draw attention to herself from the Prince. Instead she gave them one less thing to worry about.
“Where are your guards?” Malin asked his brother, voice razor sharp, after a glance at his employee that showed he wasn’t surprised by her presence.
“He sent them away so he could wench in peace,” Niko said, sneering.
Malin cursed, head snapping around as Surah appeared by his side. “I told you to—”
“Whatever. I ordered the tower on lockdown. No one leaves or comes in. Geza, you need to recall your guards, and set extra security in the tower until we know who was behind the attempt.”
“It’s a clumsy attempt,” Niko said.
“I don’t have extra guards,” Geza said. “I’m already short-staffed, and there’s no time to hold trials and swear in replacements.”
“Then outsource to humans, damnit.”
Geza opened his mouth to protest, eyes widening in outrage when Malin cut him off. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Sir, I can contact your head of security on his after hours line and call in a team.”
Niko glanced at Bea, brow rising. She’d stepped out from behind whoever had been shielding her on the Prince’s implicit command, expression calm.
Malin glanced at her. “Do it.”
She nodded and moved away a few steps, swiping her thumb across the comm unit on her wrist, speaking in a low tone moments later.
“She handles security?” Niko asked Malin in a low voice.
“She handles events, and that sometimes includes making arrangements with the security team when my executive assistant is otherwise assigned.”
“You honor her.”
Malin’s brow rose. “No. She does her job.” He paused, inflection changing. “We’ll speak on Bea later.”
Niko suppressed a grimace. He hadn’t bothered hiding his interest in her tonight, but hadn’t really expected anyone to care. Evidently, he’d underestimated the loyalty she inspired in the other gargoyles she was in contact with. Niko probably should have anticipated Malin’s concern. As his high-level employee he worked with personally on a frequent basis, and a friend of his wife’s, Malin would consider Bea under his protection.
“I want the guest list,” Malin said.
”I’ll get it,” Surah said.
“No, stay here. We don’t know if you’re a target as well. Contact Lilu, make sure she and the baby are fine, as well as your mother.”
Bea finished her communication with the head of security and disconnected. Leila, Malin’s executive assistant, was out of town this weekend on a planned trip. Usually she’d be available immediately in case of emergency—and from all accounts was paid handsomely for the trouble—but she’d arranged the mini-vacation months ago, and no one had anticipated assassins. Of all the luck. Her first real gargoyle party, and it was crashed by assassins.
She approached Prince Malin to inform him of the arrangements, waiting patiently at his back while he spoke to his brother and Niko. She looked around in the meantime. The room was clearing of what she assumed would be non-essentials, leaving only the scowling-faced warriors behind. No one looked happy, though the male approaching at a steady, casual clip was blank-faced. Emotionless, not angry like the others.
His eyes were trained on Prince Geza, almost robotically, as if he saw nothing else. “Prince Malin?” Bea tried to get his attention.
“I know you’re there, Bea, one moment and I’ll take your report.”
She opened her mouth, closed it. His reply had been kind enough, but the expression on the males’ faces informed her they wouldn’t welcome an interruption. She had the presence of mind to find some raw humor in the fact that she was supposed to be partying, but instead she was, by default, back at work. How the hell had her personal life and work life crossed paths, and so seamlessly? The warrior continued to approach. Malin glanced his way, then turned back to his conversation. Well, if he wasn’t concerned . . . .
A knife glinted in the warrior’s
hand. A week’s worth of thoughts ran through her mind in a split second. Wondering why the warrior didn’t set off anyone else’s inner alarm. If she had time to alert Malin, the warrior was two steps away. What could she do, she was just a—damnit.
“Watch out!” she shouted and . . . threw herself in the warrior’s way. Stupid. Didn’t she hate movies like that, roll her eyes when the hapless heroine of an e-book did something completely improbable because the more-brawn-than-brains hero wouldn’t listen? She wasn’t a fighter, but body weight was body weight. It would give Prince Malin the split-second he needed to react, get beyond whatever mental barrier had caused him to dismiss the danger in the first place and respond.
The warrior didn’t even blink, didn’t look at her. It happened in a breath of time, Malin’s startled exhalation, Niko’s quick snap of her name. But the second it took for him to block her weight and toss her, hard, against the floor—and wasn’t she glad it would have taken too much effort to just kill her—gained the attention of her employer and the others.
Her head cracked on the smooth floor, feet tangled in the fall. Several slow seconds of blackness, and then she pushed up to crawl out of the way. Her head throbbed, a sickening pain she hoped meant a really nasty bruise and not a concussion. Gargoyles were strong. She’d have to keep that in mind with Niko. He could snap her without even thinking about it, if just a hard shove could almost knock her out.
Hands around her arms, half drawing her away as she was lifted up. “Shit, Bea,” she heard Surah say.
“Get her out of the way,” Veda said. “Princess, where are your guards?”
It was Surah’s arm around her, half carrying, half walking her to a darkened corner. “Fuck, Malin’s gonna be pissed. That’s one of Geza’s personal guards.” Surah didn’t exactly sound happy herself. “How the hell was a guard subverted?”
“Princess, where are your guards?”
“Goddamnit. Geza and I are both stupid, I guess. Got rid of them for the night.”
Someone found her a chair and she was shoved onto it. Veda crouched down in front of her. “Can you talk, Bea?”
