by Emma Alisyn
“You don’t look like you’re going to a party,” she murmured, accepting his arm.
“This would be the perfect time for an assassin to strike.”
The ballroom would be teeming with security in fancy dress, as well as trainees—and civilians.
Let Geza be the bait, she’d said. “Stay by my side the entire evening.”
His lips curved. “Are you my bodyguard now? My wife?”
“I have more experience in this kind of thing than you. Let me do my job.”
“You can do your job, Moghrenna, but you are not my shield.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “I am yours.”
“Don’t be stupid.” She reined in her tone. “We shield each other.”
His fingers squeezed her wrist, and they descended to the ground-level ballroom. The decision had been made years ago not to have it at the top of the tower to accommodate wingless guests, and to allow revelers to spill out onto the grounds which even now would be strung with thousands of white lights and paper lanterns.
“Status update from Camra?” she asked.
“Not since this afternoon.” The female had reported she was close to isolating the accounts funding the contract but was hitting walls. Rhina knew enough of the art of computer espionage to do her job on assignments, but she was a generalist. She dabbled in a bit of everything. Camra was a true subject-matter expert, and her explanations had taken even Rhina time to unravel.
She exhaled, steadying her nerves. She wanted the assassin to strike, sooner than later, so they could get this over with. Even if Camra cut the funding it might take hours for word to spread.
“Calm,” Geza said. “Everything that we can do has been done, Lady.”
He was attempting to soothe her. Rhina would not be soothed, but she could bide her time, focus on the present. This was not a formal court event, so protocol didn’t apply. However, despite the lack of an announcer, when Geza and Rhina entered, a hush fell over the crowd. She stopped when he stopped, assuming the mantle of consort. Tall, cool, poised. She allowed a hint of danger to enter her eyes. Not for the humans and trainees who were watching under the bright lights, the prospectives who’d been invited, but for the enemies lurking in the shadows.
“My consort,” Geza said in a clear voice. “The Lady Moghrenna Mogren li’Sereval.”
Her expression remained smooth, but Rhina was perplexed. Why would Geza give her a Fae family appellation? As she scanned the ballroom, she saw clusters of discreet media persons and their hovering cameras the size of a large hand. Bea had handled media, but Rhina knew the event was being streamed live. So, fuck. Geza had just claimed in front of the world that she was of a made-up Fae family.
“Where did you get that name?” she asked in a low tone as they began to walk into the crowd. “It will be all over social media.”
“Don’t skewer me,” he said. “I had to make some concessions, and this was one of them.”
A Fae male separated himself from the crowd. Tall, silver hair with an overtone of blue, tucked behind his slightly pointed ears in a fall down his back. He was dressed all in blue, an abbreviated high court fashion. The kind Fae ambassadors wore outside of their own lands because they didn’t consider the other races worthy of the trouble of full ceremonial dress.
Dark eyes stared at her, slanted like hers, and the male bowed. “Lady Moghrenna.”
Geza’s voice was impassive. “Moghrenna, may I present Lord Kuthian Sereval. Your father’s youngest brother.”
26
She didn’t move. “Geza, what game are you playing?” Her voice was cold, shorn of any of the burgeoning affection she may have felt for him. Shorn of anything but death.
“I wished to meet you without giving prior warning, niece,” Kuthian said. “It was one of our conditions.”
“Conditions for what.”
“For being allowed to use our name.” Kuthian glanced at Geza. “Had I known the surprise would be so unwelcome, I may have forgone my little amusement.”
Rhina turned on her heel and began to stride out of the ballroom. Geza caught up with her instantly, a hand on her elbow stopping her. “Rhina.”
“You bastard,” she hissed, though her voice would only reach his ears. “How could you do this to me?”
“I wanted to find your family for you.” His eyes were steady. “Don’t you want to know who your father is?”
“Why isn’t he here, then? Why send the brother?”
“Ah, I can answer that, niece.” Kuthian had drawn close again. “There are some complications in our court that preclude him from making your acquaintance personally. But, he was able to send me in his stead as a sign that he is not uncaring.” Her uncle glanced between them. “You are the daughter of a very old house, Moghrenna li’Sereval. I hope you will allow me to tell you of it sometime.”
She faced him. “Why do you care?”
His thin brow arched. “We do not abandon our women.”
Rhina’s wings spread, unfurling from the tight clasp on her back.
“Ah.” Her so-called uncle smiled faintly. “You will find, once you learn our history, that many Fae of old, very old, were also graced with such magnificent appendages. Though some may desire to forget that part of our history. A discussion for another time.”
“If you will give her some time now,” Geza said. “We will arrange to meet more privately at a later date.”
Kuthian bowed. “Of course. Niece, I hope you will dance with me tonight. You are a beautiful woman, and I enjoy dancing.”
“I don’t dance.”
He smiled gently. “All Fae women dance, especially under the moonlight. You will see.” As he began to walk away, he did hesitate, looking for a moment as if he wouldn’t speak, then said, “Your father was grieved when he learned of Alexa’s death. But, he had been sworn to remain on his lands for the remainder of her natural life. If he had known she’d had a child, he may have broken his oath.”
“Oathbreaking is a death sentence for a Fae,” she said.
He inclined his head. “Even so. But, for the birth of a daughter . . . you do not understand.”
“Then I am glad he didn’t know of me.” It was the only concession she could give.
Her uncle bowed again, and as he walked away she stared, trying to decide if she'd seen her face in his. But, he looked every inch a Fae, and in her mind she looked like . . . herself.
“Your father is a Prince of the Fae, the way I’m a Prince,” Geza said in her ear, sounding smug. “When I present your lineage to the Council, they're going to froth at the mouth. A Mogren assassin they can bitch about. But, not a Fae Princess.”
“I’m not a Fae Princess.”
“Fae don’t concern themselves with legitimacy, or the like, and don’t form marriage bonds. Couples may come together for a time via contract, but children are always considered the heirs of their parents, no matter the circumstances of birth.”
There was a story in all of this. Her mother. Her father. But, now wasn’t the time to think about it. Her head already hurt.
“I can’t deal with this right now.”
“I’m sorry I had to spring it on you.” His jaw tightened, eyes flashing. “To get your DNA records unsealed, they made me agree to certain terms. I think your uncle wanted to measure you before he publicly claimed you on behalf of your father. If he’d found you wanting when we entered, it’s likely he never would have shown his face. So whatever he saw, he approved of.”
“You’re all bastards.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. “There’s no pressure, Rhina. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. We’ll take it at your pace.”
“Are you mad? Of course, I want to talk to him. I just didn’t want it sprung on me.” A thought occurred to her. “What the hell are you doing analyzing my DNA without permission?!”
“I am your Prince and your husband.”
“You are a boil on my ass.”
Geza laughed his wild laugh
ter and seized her around the waist, bending her back for a heated kiss. Her hands tangled in his hair and, dimly, she just knew the shot would be all over the media channels.
Despite instructions not to concern herself with the behind-the-scenes of the ball, Rhina slipped away from Geza long enough to seek out Bea. Niko was nearby, dressed in party clothes rather than his uniform, a wine glass in his hand. She spotted several of Geza’s security team in the crowd. Surah had remained at home with her husband, and they, and their security, were on full alert, as usual.
Bea also had her own guards, discreetly placed, but the human mostly ignored them, speaking into her comm unit to direct catering and entertainers. She spied Rhina.
“You’re supposed to be with Prince Geza.”
Rhina shrugged. “I wanted to see if you needed any help.”
Bea grimaced. “My daughter is at home watching the feed, looking for me. I hate to tell her I’m just the hired help.”
Rhina smiled a little. “You aren’t the hired help. You’re part of the Ioveanu family.”
Bea blinked. “I keep forgetting you’re an Ioveanu now. So weird. But then, it’s all weird, anyway.” She indicated Rhina’s appearance. “It’s simpler to be human.”
Maybe. But, more boring.
She was just about to speak when a booming pulse vibrated up her feet. She glanced at Bea, but the human hadn’t noticed. Rhina went on full alert, grabbing the woman and nearly throwing her at one of the plainclothes guards.
“Protect her, there’s an attack,” she snapped, then gathered her skirts and ran back to the ballroom, Niko hard on her heels after barking several more orders.
She wasn’t the only one who had felt the explosion. Geza and his guard met them in the hallway, his expression cold. “Moghrenna, with me. There’s been a breach.”
She fell in at his side. “Lourden.”
“Yes.”
“Did you order the estate sealed off?”
“There are warriors on the ground and in the air,” Niko said.
“What about underground? If he had an escape planned, he’s not planning on coming above.” An escape attempt now only made half sense. “This had to be a diversion.”
“Prince, there’s a camera following us,” a guard said.
Rhina pivoted, following the male’s line of sight. “Shoot it down, now.”
The male glanced at Geza, and the half-second cost them. The device fired even as a high-pitched whine blared in the air, designed to pierce the earbuds of non-humans with their sharper hearing. It would sound like a fire alarm to a human. For them, it was painful and distracting.
She threw herself at Geza, wings snapping open as she turned to shield him from the blast. His guards formed a shield, their black evening clothing cleverly designed armor. But, heads were vulnerable.
All this happened in a split second and a fiery burn enflamed her right shoulder in agony. Geza whirled, countering her protective move so that she was the one under cover. She clenched her teeth against the pain swimming behind her eyes and fought the disorienting blur of the siren. Shots fired, curses filling the air as the siren impeded aim, but someone hit the camera, and it went down in a shower of sparks.
“Find the pilot!” she yelled hoarsely, pushing away from Geza.
”Rhina is wounded,” Geza snarled. “Get her somewhere secure.”
Damnit, no, his priorities were wrong. They were being ushered out of the open hallway and into one of the ground-level sitting rooms. “That couldn’t have been a remote-controlled device, the pilot has to be on the premises.”
“Rhina—”
“No. I have to go after Lourden. I can deal best with him, you find the pilot and damnit, tell Camra to hurry up!”
Geza wavered for a moment, the war plain on his face. She glanced at Niko. “Comm Prince Malin and Surah, make sure they’re secure.
“Thanks,” the warrior said. “Didn’t think of it. Warriors in place in the ballroom are initiating a sweep. Gate is sealed and air patrol is on alert with floodlights being deployed any minute.”
She wanted to sink onto one of the couches and howl in pain, but there was no time. “Geza, we’re wasting time.”
“We’re not moving until the ballroom is secure,” Niko snapped.
“Then why are you here? I don't need coddling, I’ve had worse injuries than this, and Geza is a trained warrior.”
“She’s right,” Geza said. “We have to go on the offensive.”
Niko snarled, but acquiesced. “Fine, but she stays here under guard. I don’t need her running around.”
“I’m not a lord’s daughter or a groupie, Sir Niko,” she said coldly. “You forget what I really am.”
“She’ll go,” Geza said. “I said I wanted a warrior. I can’t wrap her in silks and stuff her in a gift box.” He seized her around the waist, taking care with her injury, and kissed her, lips hot and rough. “Don’t get yourself killed.” Geza pointed to two males. “You two with my consort. The rest of you with me, we’ll approach from a side entrance and join the sweep for the pilot.”
“Niece.” Lord Kuthian stood at one end of the long hall as they exited the room, eyes sharp. “Is there difficulty?”
She made a split-second decision. “An assassination attempt. The orchestrator is escaping the longer I stay and chit-chat.”
“I will accompany you. You are trained in warfare?”
Evidently, Geza hasn’t told him much about her. “I have some family instruction.” She glanced at the males assigned to her. They stood ready, awaiting her instructions, though they watched the Fae warily.
“Good,” he said. “Our family court is also no place for the vulnerable.” He stressed the 'our' slightly.
Rhina didn’t have time for the inner debate of whether or not to trust him, and from the set of his shoulders and smooth, expressionless face, she would have to use force to prevent him from following her.
“Come on, then,” she said.
“My brother is pleased with your choice of husband,” Kuthian said as they sprinted, not a breath lost to the speed of their travel. “If his daughter had to waste herself on a gargoyle, at least it is one of high rank.”
There was so much in that statement to unpack. “That’s just great. I’m glad one side of the family is happy with me.”
“I did not say we were,” was the mild reply.
There was no further time for conversation. A small, pitched battle ensued, observable through the hole in the floor where once the elevator had been. Staff was streaming out of the kitchen and pantry areas, directed by supervisors to make an orderly exit and proceed to checkpoints. Rhina looked down into the chasm, judging distances. Her bones were hard, and it was only three stories deep.
“Can you make the jump?” she asked Kuthian.
“Niece.” He appeared pained.
Kicking off her heels and cursing her skirts, Rhina leaped. The landing jarred her from her ankles to the crown of her head, but she rolled out of the way as her uncle and the guards landed one after another, the Fae light as a cat on his feet, the gargoyles heavy thuds. Shaking off the shock of the landing, she whipped out her blades and dove into the fight, assessing the situation in one sweeping glance.
Lourden and the released Mogren warriors were fighting the guards who hadn’t fallen in the blast, gaining ground in inches towards a hole blasted in the now dismantled cellblock hallway, leading to a tunnel. Hairline cracks up every wall and crumbling mortar testified to the strength of the bomb, but the Mogrens were smart. They’d contained it to this local area rather than trying to take the whole tower down. Even gargoyles might not have noticed through the natural vibrations of a crowd of dancers, especially if the music turned to the bass-heavy metal music preferred by Geza and the younger males of the court lately.
No one could use anything but short blades or talons in close quarters, or lasers. The scent of burned flesh proved someone at least had discharged a weapon. Mogren eyes turned to Rhina,
accompanied by hissing snarls. For a moment, her fingers seized around the hilts of her blades. This was her family. And Geza or no, she couldn’t just betray them so easily.
The cousins, they were just soldiers. She focused on Lourden, advancing towards him. She didn’t hate him, but if he escaped, the assassination attempts would continue.
A mercenary, from the nondescript clothing and flat expression, engaged her, protecting Lourden. She couldn’t afford to favor her wounded arm and shoulder though it burned like a bitch. But, Mogren training had included inflicting deliberate injuries and then forcing her to fight through them. She was used to this. She clenched her teeth, blanked her mind, and engaged, body and blades taking over. The mercenary went down and a second fled, the assessing look on his face telling Rhina he’d decided his contract was fulfilled.
“Retreat,” Lourden commanded harshly, and began to fight for the sole purpose of covering their flight. She stepped over the body and continued towards him. The others would die or escape, and she would neither help nor hinder. If Geza wanted to execute her for the betrayal, let him.
Her cousins shifted to defensive mode and one by one began diving into the tunnel. One fell, body still. Rhina leaped over him, heart ruthlessly locked away. These cousins were not Tyra. They were not noncombatants.
She and Kuthian disabled her uncle, bringing him to his knees, so the newly arrived guards could place him in restraints.
“Is there a backup holding area?” Rhina asked one of the males, his collar bearing the insignia of an officer.
“We’ll take it from here, Lady,” he replied curtly, not quite answering the question.
“Lourden is dangerous. There could be a mercenary unit lying in wait to rescue him.”
“We have the estate on lockdown, and more warriors surrounding the tower. We’ve already tracked the tunnel exit and sealed it off.”
“Did anyone escape?”
