by Holley Trent
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. I told you that.”
“Just verifying. And you told her you needed specifically to leave so you could find Ethan, did you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“To what end?” Princess Simone asked levelly.
Laurel gave her head a slow shake. “She doesn’t take kindly to people abandoning their mates. She let me come out to get him.”
“I am not your—fuck!”
Simone had given Ethan’s bicep a pinch that shut him up good. He heeded the warning in her quelling glare.
“What, pray tell, makes you think he’s your mate?” Princess Siobhan asked.
Laurel’s eyes took on an unintelligent roundness. “He is. I’m going to have his babies.”
Like hell you are.
There was only one woman he had any interest at all in having babies with, and he wasn’t allowed near her at the moment.
“Let me get this straight,” Princess Simone said. “My mother-in-law gave you special dispensation to leave the realm to drag back your neglectful mate, is that what you’re saying?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I bet she told you exactly where you might find him, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Interesting. And who else was with you when she imparted you with this knowledge?”
Ethan admired Princess Simone’s ability to quickly pick up on bullshit. She was very good at asking the right questions. She’d always had the raw material, but Heath had helped her hone her wit into a sharp and deadly skill. The prince and princess had an enviably good match.
Laurel narrowed her eyes and clucked her tongue. She made the sound whenever she was thinking, and in Ethan’s opinion, it was a sound she didn’t make nearly enough. “Oh, my brother was there, and…a couple of guards and, oh, I dunno. I don’t pay attention to those sorts of things.”
“And where’s Quinton now?” Princess Siobhan asked through clenched teeth.
Laurel shrugged. “Oh, he’s probably around somewhere.”
“Around here?”
“Uh-huh.” Laurel scrunched her nose. “He couldn’t get closer for some reason, but he’s around if you want to say hi.”
“I’ll track him down and say hi, all right. Me and Heath.” Princess Siobhan started away as if she were going to do just that.
Princess Simone pulled Ethan away from the door. “Good night, Miss O’Cuilinn.”
“Uh—well, goodnight, then.” Brow furrowed, Laurel looked to Ethan, who gave his head a hard shake.
“No,” he said.
He pulled her door closed again, and wisely, she got out of the way. He didn’t doubt for a second, though, that she wouldn’t quickly regroup.
He hustled Princess Simone into the office along with Hestia and pulled down the shade on the door after engaging the lock.
He folded his arms over his chest and drummed his fingers along the sides of his arms.
Princess Simone blinked at him several times, then turned to Hestia.
Hestia threw up her hands. “I feel like I should make amends, but this wasn’t completely my fault. Ugh.” She paced in front of the door clucking her tongue for a while. “Look, as you know, there are rules of engagement. Gods and goddesses are restricted in how much they can meddle in the affairs of those who live in this realm, although we are allowed to pick the occasional favorite. We rarely interfere with the curses our peers have cast. What happened in this case is that some nitwit decided interfering in Simone’s curse would be great fun, and not so they could help her break it in a magically legal way.”
“Wait.” Princess Simone closed her eyes and leaned against the counter. “Hold on. Someone told Laurel about my curse?”
“No. They wouldn’t be that bold. They simply gave Laurel the impetus to come here, knowing that you couldn’t refuse to give her hospitality.”
Princess Simone dragged her hand down her face and nodded slowly. “And this is the same god or goddess who’s been feeding Rhiannon information, I’m guessing.”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“But why?” Ethan asked. “Why drag me into this?”
“You’re fair game just like everyone else in Heath’s crew,” Hestia said. “Rhiannon will look for any opening to make a crack bigger, and you were the most convenient victim at the moment.”
He looked to the princess. “Should I leave, then? I’m certain she’ll follow. I can get rid of her.”
Princess Simone grimaced, then walked around the counter. She sank into her desk chair and let her lips sputter. “Heath would probably say that strategy would be too obvious. You puttering around here may suit Laurel, but people waiting outside this warded zone would be happier if you left. You going anywhere on your own would be an ambush waiting to happen.”
“I can handle myself in a fight.”
“I know you can. You can take on three or four men no problem, but Rhiannon’s going to change her tactics each time she sends her guards out. She might send more, or she might send some with abilities that you’re not immune to. For the time being, you’re safer here.”
“But what am I going to do with her?”
“Ignore her.”
“Good luck,” Hestia muttered.
Ethan glared at her. “Can you not lift the princess’s curse? There seem to be extenuating circumstances, do you not agree?”
“I agree that there are, but I’ve never reneged on a curse. I have a reputation for doing what I promise, and I can’t break my own rules even for a favorite. You’ll find some other way to break the curse,” she said to Princess Simone. “I’m certain you’ll think creatively.”
Princess Simone narrowed her eyes. “You also said I’d find someplace to put all those fairies who need to be evacuated from the realm that we can’t even easily access at the moment.”
“Yes. How is that going, dear?”
“Been too busy to think about making plans, much less to take a piss in peace. That’s how it’s going.”
“You should work on that.”
“Yeah?” Princess Simone cracked her knuckles.
As always, Hestia seemed completely unbothered by the princess’s distress.
At the moment, Ethan wasn’t so concerned with the fairies in the realm. He was concerned about one pseudo-psychotic mer-fairy being in very close proximity to his true mate.
“I could kill her,” he mused quietly.
Both Hestia and Princess Simone turned to look at him.
The princess tipped her head over the back of the chair and sighed. “Oh, boy.”
“He’s a fairy, is he not?” Hestia asked. “Your ilk does tend to be practical in that way.”
“Perhaps so, but I was raised human,” the princess said. “Humans don’t generally go around murdering people who annoy us, even when they deserve the killing.” She stabbed a finger toward Ethan. “Hey. Just to be clear, you’re not allowed to kill Laurel. If you get a good night’s sleep, I’m certain you’ll wake up understanding that would be a regretful move.”
He doubted he would, but being the loyal and true sort, he’d likely heed Simone’s warning. The last thing he wanted was to be the very next test subject of her “scary fairy rage.”
“As you wish, Princess. Do tell me, however, what I am allowed to do.”
She shrugged. “Just stay away from her. You see her coming? Walk the other way. Maybe if we’re lucky, we can get her to check out and not come back.”
“Luck’s never been on my side, Princess.”
“Oh, you do fine,” Hestia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You have no idea how many people have tried to kill you and failed.”
“Excuse me?”
Hestia plucked invisible lint off her robe, frustratingly tightlipped at the worst possible time, as always.
He hated when she did that—tossed out bait, and then snatched it back before he could consume it. He understood that there were rules of conduct for the go
ds, but Hestia seemed, to him, especially sadistic.
He growled. “If she goes near Dasha—”
“We’re not going to let her get near Dasha,” Princess Simone interjected. “We’re going to do everything we can to obscure what the nature of your relationship is for as long as we can or until Laurel goes away. No one outside this complex—beyond Thom—knows who your mate is or even that you have one.”
“At the rate we’re going, I’ll never be able to court the woman properly.”
Hestia buffed her nails on her robe and emitted the most ladylike grunt he’d ever heard. “Think outside the box, fairy. You rely on antiquated modes of courtship, but these are modern times and you’re dealing with a woman who would prefer you not get close at the moment. So what’s that tell you?”
“That I’m fucking screwed.”
Hestia sighed, and as she vanished, pled, “Oh, Mielikki, deal with him.”
Mielikki didn’t appear, and Ethan was pleased that she didn’t. One exasperating goddess per day was about his limit.
He leaned his elbows onto the counter and stared at the princess. “Well?”
She shrugged. “Hestia had a point.”
“Maybe you could tell me what it was.”
“Think, E. If you can’t be right in front of Dash without making her anxious, that doesn’t mean you can’t still communicate with her.”
“Call her?”
“Nah. No offense, but that would probably be about as awkward as two thirteen-year-olds being allowed to use their parents’ phones for a chat. You don’t know each other well enough to have a productive phone conversation yet, but I have another idea.” She extended her hand, palm-up, and wriggled her fingers. “Give me your phone.”
He handed the device over without question.
Simone worked her thumbs rapidly over the screen and handed the phone back to him a few minutes later. “There you go. Added a new app for you.”
“What is it?” He squinted at the little icon on the screen. An angry, fanged piggybank tromped Godzilla-style through a partially razed city.
“A cross between Monopoly, SimCity, and Battleship is the best way I can describe the premise. You have to try to collect properties, and your virtual opponents have to try to take them out. It’s cutthroat. Actually, BUY, BUILD, DESTROY! is the kind of game friendships fall apart over.”
“So, you are trying to sabotage my efforts with Dasha?”
Simone wriggled her brows. “Trust me. Sign up for an account, and add player DotDotDotDash to your friend list.”
“Ah.” He was getting the gist. Slowly. But he still didn’t understand why he would have her play a friendship-ruining game with the mate who was already wary enough of him.
The princess, obviously guessing the cause of his discomfiture, laughed and shook her head. “Just do it. I swear, even if you piss her off, the game will get her talking to you. She’s serious about her gaming.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Honestly, I think this is one of my better ideas, but, hey—I’ve had some real duds.”
“I’m trusting you, Princess.”
“I’m trying to do the best I can by all of you fairy thugs. Maybe I’ve been slow with the learning curve, but I’m coming around.”
He tucked his phone into his pocket and reached to unlock the door. “Aye, you are. Let’s just hope Dasha will, too. I’m dying here.”
“You’ll be all right, big guy. Just remember—slow and easy. She’ll come around. I promise.”
Ethan had to believe her. He didn’t really have a choice. It wasn’t like he could trade Dasha in for a different mate. Even if he could, he wasn’t so sure he would. The one he had had already imprinted on him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What the hell?”
Dasha burrowed a little lower into the pile of covers she’d built up at the end of Siobhan, Caryl, and Daryn’s sofa and squinted at her phone screen. The fairy slumber party had puttered out hours ago. The three women had stumbled, tipsy and giggling, to their beds, but Dasha couldn’t sleep. She could blame her sugar high from all the cookies she’d eaten during the barbecue, or perhaps even stress. Whatever the reason, every time she closed her eyes, she received a barrage of thoughts about everything under the sun. That sort of brain activity was a far cry from being sleep-inducing, so she’d figured she’d play some games on her phone until she nodded off.
She hadn’t expected to see that name popping up in her BUY, BUILD, DESTROY! friend request list.
“EthanGotchA,” she read, and snorted. “Cute.”
She paused her finger over the accept button, pondering how he’d found her in the game. She was searchable by her social media accounts and email address, but—as far as she knew—he didn’t have knowledge of those. Unless someone told him.
She rolled her eyes, and fired off a text to Simone. Gonna shiv you when I see you in the morning.
Her friend probably wouldn’t see the message until whenever she got around to rolling off of Heath, but Dasha was content with the nice little note being there waiting for when Simone woke.
She hit the accept button anyway, figuring being cordial couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like the guy was awake. He wouldn’t know whether she’d accepted or declined until the next time he opened his app.
Humming softly, she went about her business, building up houses and shops and scanning her friends’ little worlds to see who needed aid and who needed to be taken down a few pegs.
She sent a category-four hurricane to one bustling city, snatched up the building materials from the fallen skyscraper, and hid them in storage in her city. The other player would only know Dasha was responsible if he happened to check the contents of her storage. Once the materials were repurposed, the ownership labels fell off. She didn’t plan on leaving the items in storage for too long. She immediately assigned the wood and metal to be used in reinforcing her city’s walls and spent a thousand BBD bucks to accelerate the process. She’d be in the clear if that guy didn’t wake in the next hour.
Suddenly, an in-game message popped up on the screen, and she yipped, thinking that the guy did already see the carnage. His retaliations were always excessively brutal, which was why she only poked at him when she thought he was asleep. When she saw the username tagged onto the message, though, her heart rate didn’t slow any.
EthanGotchA: How the bloody hell do you play this game? It says I have to wait eight hours to do anything else. Is that right?
Dasha let out a tittering laugh and rubbed her eyes. The correspondence was benign enough. She could handle benign.
dotdotdotdash: That’s right. When you’re first getting started, you’re limited in how much you can get done. You either have to wait or spend game bucks to get stuff faster.
EthanGotchA: I’ve got 1000 game bucks.
Dasha was sitting on a cool million, but she’d been playing for six weeks.
dotdotdotdash: That’s not going to get you very far. If I were you, I’d save the bucks, and just wait the eight hours. The game will become more interactive once there’s more stuff in your village.
EthanGotchA: What should I do before then?
Dasha clucked her tongue and tapped her chin contemplatively. She’d pondered making up a new screen name and starting the game with a fresh plot a time or two so she could test a different strategy, but was having too much fun with her current city. “Hmm. Ooh. I know.”
dotdotdotdash: If I had to start over, I’d start building up my security perimeter before I build the first house. Income will be slower, but once you do start building up your village, you’ll have a reprieve of a few days. No one would be able to destroy your stuff until you start adding second stories.
EthanGotchA: I have a shovel and a pirate convict. Am I supposed to make him dig, or what?
dotdotdotdash: Yes. Make him dig throughout the night. If you’re feeling generous in the morning, you can give him a break. He’ll be less likely to flee to your f
riends’ worlds.
She snorted, just imagining the little animated convict with his peg leg and ratty clothes making a break from one fake world to the next.
EthanGotchA: This is uncivilized.
Dasha slapped a hand over her mouth before her bark of laughter could wake the fairy ladies. His words were funny because he didn’t appear to be joking. The best she’d been able to discern about Ethan, his sense of humor spanned the comedic range between gallows humor and poignant dick jokes. Which was to say he talked about his dick a lot more than people realized.
He’d obviously been behaving himself. He hadn’t let one rip in a while.
“Hope he’s not behaving himself for my sake.” She liked a good dick joke. What she didn’t like was thinking about his dick, specifically. She didn’t want to be hypnotized by the wonders of fairy cock. If Simone’s subtle hints about Heath’s magical member were any indication, Dasha wouldn’t want to say no once she’d had a sample. She missed good sex, but couldn’t afford to have her thoughts consumed by it. There was a reason she was avoiding Ethan, and she needed to keep reminding herself of that.
She typed, That’s just the way the game is, Ethan. Maybe it’s cutthroat, but being a little mean makes the gameplay fun.
EthanGotchA: Hits a bit close to home for me.
dotdotdotdash: How so?
EthanGotchA: Rhiannon is a tyrant. Her domain was built on the backs of decent people who lacked her ambitions. To her, everyone should be a convict with a shovel.
Dasha sat up and nudged back her slipping hair scarf. The knot was too loose and needed to be retied, but she had more pressing concerns. Apparently, she’d made the man uncomfortable over what was, in the scheme of things, a silly little game. BBD was all good fun for her, but she didn’t completely understand the politics of the fairy realm or how things had gotten to be the way they were. She didn’t get off on being insensitive, not even to people she’d rather avoid.
“Maybe I should ask,” she said to no one. Just hearing it aloud was giving herself permission to dig deeper into what bothered him, but not through the chat app of some silly game.
EthanGotchA: He’s digging now. I think I made my perimeter too large. The indicator tells me he’ll be done in 24 hours.
