But then he asked, “What about you? Where are you going after the ceremony is over?”
She swallowed. “Um. That depends. I have a few jobs lined up but...”
“But?”
“Will you stay in Marcari with me?” she asked quickly, getting the words out before she could stop herself.
She felt him rise up to look down on her. “Why Marcari?”
Lexie turned her head to look up at him, but she didn’t have a wolf’s eyes. In the dark, he was all but invisible. “I need you to keep a secret.”
“What?”
“I saw my mystery man again tonight.”
“Yeah, in the walls with Prince Leo.” She’d told him that much.
“I have to find him again. He knows what happened to my father.”
She heard Faran’s breath catch. “Okay then. I can see why you want to talk to him.”
“But that’s not all. I think I’ve guessed his secret.”
“His secret?” Faran asked dubiously.
“Yeah, and I probably shouldn’t say anything,” Lexie added, feeling her heart start to pound—but this was one thing she couldn’t keep from Faran. “I know who he is, and his cover probably depends on us keeping our mouths shut. He asked me not to say anything.”
Faran must have sensed her tension, because he stroked her hair in a reassuring gesture. “Who is he?”
“He called me Little Red. He always used to do that. And then I recognized him—his voice, the way he stood, everything. Until that moment, I couldn’t place who he was.”
“Who?” Faran asked more urgently.
“Jack Anderson. He’s not dead. He’s deep, deep undercover, and he seems to know all about what’s going on with the fey.”
Faran said nothing for a long moment. She could only imagine what was going on in his mind. Jack had let everyone who loved him believe he was dead.
When Faran spoke at last, it was with bloody satisfaction. “I’m so going to kick his ass.”
* * *
A dinner party came three nights later. King Renault announced it was to celebrate Amelie’s full recovery, but everyone knew it was also in honor of foiling the Five’s plot.
It wasn’t a vast affair like the banquet. Instead, it was just Kyle’s and Amelie’s immediate family and the few close friends. The dinner didn’t appear on the official palace timetable, and the press never knew about it. Lexie’s belongings had mysteriously reappeared—she suspected Jack had found them somewhere in the bowels of the palace—but she left her cameras behind when she sat down to dinner. This was a time for the royals to be just people.
Faran cooked. Lexie knew it wasn’t something he did often, which was a shame because he obviously enjoyed himself. Dish after fabulous dish came out of the kitchen, starting with the crispy shrimp she loved so much. There was a delicate cold soup and lobster salad, quail done to perfection and...Lexie just lost track. When Faran was in a very good mood, he liked to feed people. Judging by the menu, he was ecstatic.
Her one regret was that Faran couldn’t be in two places at once, because she wasn’t in the mood to do without him for a minute, to say nothing of an entire formal dinner with him tied up in the kitchen. She’d rather have him tied up someplace more private, but that would have to happen later.
In the meantime, she sat with Chloe and Sam and Mark Winspear and his partner, Bree Meadows, who turned out to know Prince Kyle and his infamous cousin, Maurice.
“Do you mean Maurice was here?” Bree exclaimed. “I haven’t seen him for years. How is he?”
“He left yesterday for who-knows-where,” said Lexie. “He wouldn’t say more than that he wanted some quiet time for songwriting.” She suspected he was actually laying low for a while to keep off the Dark Fey’s radar.
“I don’t understand what was going on with him,” Chloe said in an undertone.
“He caught word of the plot some time ago and volunteered to act as a double agent,” Sam said just as quietly. “I don’t know who his handler was.”
Actually, Lexie could make a very good guess, but couldn’t say anything. The news that Jack was alive had thrilled Faran, but he’d agreed they should keep the fact quiet. It was hard. Chloe was his niece, and the other Horsemen had looked to Jack as a friend and leader. But Jack had asked Lexie to keep his secret, and an incautious word could get him killed.
“What I don’t get,” said Lexie, “is if the gates are locked on the Dark Fey, who is helping them from the outside?”
Sam shrugged. “I guess they missed a few. Probably the original Five, and over time some of those five had to be replaced with other suckers.”
“Loose ends,” Mark Winspear grumbled. He was the tall, dark and sardonic type. “Ambrose and Prince Leopold were caught, Maurice was one of ours, but the other two escaped.”
Lexie winced. Leo was under King Targon’s lock and key until a suitable trial could be arranged. Since he had been plotting to murder Kyle and Amelie—not to mention every other kind of treason—it was unlikely he would walk free ever again.
Sam raised his glass. “Well, here’s to 60 percent fewer bad guys.”
They could all drink to that.
Dessert came. Faran, dressed in clean whites, brought it in himself, amid a chorus of “oohs” and sincere applause. It was a croquembouche, a beautiful tower of choux pastry balls held together with strings of caramel and decorated with ribbon and candied flowers. It reminded Lexie of a Christmas tree, but it was a traditional dish for weddings in this part of the world.
Faran set it before Amelie and Kyle with a bow. There was a moment of silence and then Amelie picked something from the top of the tower of spun caramel and pastry.
“It’s my ring!” she cried, racing around the table to kiss the cook, then Kyle and then her father. “How did you find it?”
Lexie gasped, thinking back to that night in Ambrose’s makeshift dungeon. She’d been tortured for that ring.
Faran gave a wolfish grin. “I’ve had it since I caught the fetch on the rooftop, but if no one knew where it was, it couldn’t get stolen again.”
At that moment, his eyes found hers. They held apology, but also triumph. Lexie understood. If she’d known where the ring was, the night might have ended with her death and the success of the ritual. She was brave, but she had no illusions.
Amelie flushed, oblivious to everything but her happiness. “You horrible man! Captain Valois will be so utterly cross with you.” She slid it onto her finger and cradled her hand against her chest. “But I adore you for taking care of it for me!”
Prince Kyle rose, raising his glass. “I give you Faran Kenyon, our most faithful servant.”
The company rose, happy to acknowledge a man who had not only caught a poisoner, uncovered a plot and saved the ring, but also cooked a very fine meal.
Then Princess Amelie raised her glass. “And I give you Lexie Haven, whom I’ve noticed being every bit as clever and resourceful as our Company members. We owe her much of the happiness in this room.”
“Hear, hear,” said the Horsemen in chorus. “So say we all!”
Sam winked. “I underestimated you. If you ever want a seat at the Company table, just let me know.”
“One step at a time, gentlemen,” Lexie said with an arched brow. “I’m not sure your benefit plan covers half the hazards I’ve seen these last few days.”
“Oh, come on,” said Chloe. “You’re cohabiting with a werewolf. After that kind of vacuuming, how much worse could it be?”
* * *
Lexie found her way to the kitchens much later that night. The fabric of her long taffeta skirts swished as she walked, the sea-green color luminous in the dim light of the palace hallways. She was stuffed to bursting with so much good food and wine and laughter, she was about ready to
collapse right where she was and sleep for a month. In fact, as she pushed through the swinging doors and saw the stainless steel tables gleaming in the overhead lights, she thought they might do as an impromptu bed. Who knew eating could be so exhausting?
Everyone but Faran had left. The kitchen was spotlessly clean, every dish washed and put away, and every surface scrubbed. It was quiet, nothing but the hum of the refrigerators filling the air.
He was leaning against one of the workstations, arms folded across his broad chest, and staring at the table before him. On the table sat a single chocolate cupcake on a plain white plate.
Lexie drifted slowly between the worktables toward him, her sequined flats tapping softly on the tiles. The air was still warm from the ovens, and she let her silky shawl slip from her shoulders to dangle from her elbows.
“Are you going to eat it or interrogate it?” she asked, drawing near. “I’ve never seen a cupcake tremble like that before.”
His mouth quirked, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Do you know why they call me Famine?”
She leaned next to him, her arm touching his. “Because you eat a lot?”
He took a breath. “It’s the horseman I fear the most. It’s not just food. It’s scarcity. Of family, of community, of everything that makes the pack work. The alphas of the pack keep order, but they also make sure all systems are working. If their world is going right, there is enough to go around. No famine.”
She put a hand on his arm, feeling the hard muscle beneath his sleeve. “They’re providers.”
“Wolves have a complex society. I’m on my own now. My pack is gone. But that doesn’t mean I lack the instinct to keep a community safe.”
There was a lot he still hadn’t said about his past, but it was coming out in bits and pieces. Lexie didn’t push for details, but gathered scraps like this one up. One day there would be enough to quilt together the story of his childhood. They were coming more frequently now as the trust between them grew.
He put an arm around her shoulders. “You look gorgeous tonight.”
Lexie leaned her head against him. “You wowed your audience.”
“Do you like the cupcake?”
“It’s a very nice cupcake.”
“I made it for you. Chocolate on chocolate.”
She really thought she might faint if she ate anything more. “It’s lovely but I’m stuffed.”
“One bite?” He looked pleading, his blue eyes almost childlike.
Heaven help her, she couldn’t say no to those eyes. “Do you have a fork?”
He looked around the kitchen. “One or two.” And then he handed her one that had been sitting next to him all along. His movements were a little too quick, as if he was nervous.
Those nerves found an answering flutter in her stomach. Something was afoot.
A little apprehensive, Lexie plunged the fork into the cupcake. It sundered the dessert in a rich waft of chocolate. The frosting quickly buried the fork, the layer of butter and cocoa thick without being too much. The cake sprang apart, just the right balance between fluffy and fudgy. It was a masterpiece.
The two halves of the cupcake parted, one half falling with a crinkle of paper frill. Lexie lifted the fork to lick it clean, but something caught on the tines.
It was a diamond ring, smudged with chocolate. Lexie’s heart squeezed, seeming to leap inside her with a flutter of panic and delight. She tipped the ring from the fork to her hand, turning the gems to the light. “Oh, my gosh.”
Fire sparked from the stones, one white diamond flanked by two smoky ones. Dark and light. Man and wolf. Woman and fey. It was...perfect.
“Amelie’s wasn’t the only ring I’ve been keeping,” he said quietly. “I was going to give this to you a long time ago.”
“There was a reason it had to wait,” she said, a lump in her throat crowding her words. “I wasn’t there yet. I didn’t know who I was. Or who you really were.”
“We both had more to learn,” he said gently.
Tears filled Lexie’s eyes and she had to bite her lips to keep them from trembling. She sniffed, trying to pull herself together while Faran watched with a bemused expression.
With brisk movements, she dusted the crumbs from the ring, licking them from her fingers. The dark, sweet taste burst on her tongue like a benediction. Sweet heavens, can he bake!
She passed him the ring. “Here, you put it on me.”
For the first time ever, his fingers felt cold against hers. When he fumbled the tiny gold band, she knew it was nerves. That just made her love him the more.
He didn’t need to worry. It fit perfectly. It suited her hand perfectly. The design and quality were impeccable. He could bake and he knew jewelry, too. “Faran, it’s beautiful.”
“Um, will you marry me?” he asked. “I think I was supposed to do that part first.”
Lexie gave a hiccuping kind of laugh. She slid her arms around his neck and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She wanted to be near him, to be warmed by him and held close in the circle of his arms. Always. “Yes.”
“I love you,” he said, tilting her head up for a kiss. It was long and luxuriant, sweet and dark and not unlike the cupcake.
Which they shared, even if Lexie already had eaten too much. There’s always room for chocolate, especially the grand chocolate ganache of love.
No cupcake was ever so significant, or so admired as the one Lexie and Faran consumed in the Marcari palace kitchens at two o’clock that January morning. It was the first of a spectacular history of cupcakes between them.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from WOLF HUNTER by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom.
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Chapter 1
It was only moonlight. A damn luminous light show...
But Abby Stark stood frozen in a pool of it.
A choice four-letter word slipped through her clenched teeth.
Tonight’s recon should have been routine. It was too late to second-guess what had gone wrong. One move now, no matter how slight, and whatever was out there in the dark, whatever had stopped her in her tracks, would find her. Breaking the silence by talking into her cell phone would mean attracting any number of bad guys roaming the area.
She couldn’t afford to be caught with her pants down in this notorious Miami park. Her mind brought up the words dead meat.
The thing out there in the dark, too close for comfort, didn’t even begin to fit the term bad guy. Its presence left an eerie wave of ripples in the air. Otherness rolled across her skin in waves.
This visitor was not human.
Big freaking surprise.
The thing heading her way was trouble with a bite. A large male, her senses confirmed, and charismatic enough to affect her from a distance. Not just any old monster, either, according to her gut reaction. Something special. Encountering his vibe had been similar to slamming up against a brick wall face-first.
Damn it, had he come close enough to see her?
Was he paying attention?
Don’t move.
Flicking her gaze from right t
o left brought up nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, most of the planet’s darker things were difficult to catch a glimpse of in the darkness that bred them.
Adding to the problem was the rain of coldhearted moonlight highlighting every move she’d dare to make—like a circus spotlight pointed in her direction when she was supposed to be in stealth mode.
Step right up, folks. See the girl who’s about to have her ass kicked.
Moisture began to gather in the valley between her breasts. Sweat dampened her forehead. Her skin burned beneath her black fatigues because her engine was revved but stuck in neutral.
How screwed was she, on a scale of one to ten?
There was nothing to be done now, Abby supposed, short of wishing for backup, though she couldn’t decide what would be worse—being caught by a monster, or having her father’s team of elite monster hunters know she’d been found by one of those monsters.
That’s what her father called the man-wolf hybrids that had recently claimed this park. Monsters.
Her head came up.
The night rustled as if something had just punched its way through the dark. More nerve endings fired as Abby strained to see what approached. This guy had turned the tables, making the watcher a target, rather than the other way around.
She didn’t like anything about this.
Sensing Others was what she had always been good at, yet she’d been inexcusably late to this particular party. The hot flashes burning through her were a telling sign that she’d found the very thing she’d been seeking tonight. Werewolf. A beast that also might have found her.
Unfortunately, this sucker’s presence seemed strong. It might even be a full-blooded beast, though she’d never come across one in the fourteen years she’d spent scouting for her father’s team. If not one of the mysterious Lycans, this Were’s pedigree had to run parallel to that status. The older the bloodline, the stronger the wolf.
Who are you?
Abby fisted her hands.
Harlequin Nocturne May 2015 Box Set: Wolf HunterPossessed by a Wolf Page 52
