by Emma Alisyn
Malin’s head whipped around. “Where is Surah?”
His mate muttered something under her breath. “Here, Malin, stop shouting.”
Bea watched as Niko’s head turned, eyes pinning her. His nostrils flared, and she wondered if anyone else saw his slight, aborted movement. She understood he wanted to come to her, but duty was first. As it should be. No matter what embryonic something was brewing between them, Geza needed him more than she did. Bea smiled to show she was okay, though it must have been a lousy smile, as much as her head pounded.
“We’ll get you looked at in a bit,” Veda murmured.
“This is, ironically, the securest location in the tower besides the throne room and Geza’s bedroom,” Surah said. “How in the hell . . . I need to talk to that warrior.”
“With a guard,” Malin snapped. He’d crossed the room as Surah was speaking, shaking off the warriors trying to surround him. “Step back,” he said. “Protect my Prince.”
Bea’s brow shot up. He referred to his brother as his Prince? Admirable, especially for an older brother and former ruler.
“Are you okay?” he asked, shocking Bea by crouching down in front of her. “That was a very brave thing you did. Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” she replied without thinking, then winced. “Though I guess, technically—”
Malin smiled. “Welcome to my world, Bea. I’m afraid you are now fully a part of it. Your action will be seen as partisan.”
“What?”
“He means you’ll be marked as his vassal,” Veda said. “Before you were just an employee. Prince Malin, will you allow my brother to arrange a suitable escort until matters here are resolved?”
Malin rose, and turned his measuring gaze on the female gargoyle. “You have a good understanding of the court. Veda, correct? Niko’s sister. Why haven’t you applied for the guard? I’ve heard your father grumbling about your unfeminine ambitions. You should ignore him if you believe you have the aptitude.”
Veda blinked. “Ahh . . . thank you, my Prince. I’ll think about it.”
“Malin,” Surah said, impatience in her voice. He glanced at her and nodded and they walked back toward the silent, still warrior.
“She’s a doctor, right?” Bea asked, watching.
“A scientist, really,” Veda said. “But I think she has medical training.”
“I thought a vassal was someone who’d sworn an oath of fealty in return for . . . . ” She frowned, unsure.
“Land, power, money,” Veda murmured. “The practical application has changed a bit from the original over the decades. I wouldn’t worry about it right now. Prince Malin will let you know if anything is to be done.”
Surah stood from her crouch next to the warrior and trotted over to Bea. She’d had the others prop him up and begun a quick, but thorough, examination.
“Bea, what made you think he was a threat?” Surah asked. “And here, let me check your eye movement, it’s the best on site exam for concussion I know.”
Bea spoke while Surah held up fingers, then a light and made her track them as she moved. “He looked robotic. Too focused on Prince Geza for it to be natural. There was no emotion on his face and he walked . . . . ”
“I see.”
“Why isn’t he talking?”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder. “We’re not really a highly magical species anymore, but there are certain capabilities some of us have. Less so now that technology has eliminated the need for many of our smaller magics.”
“Umm . . . magic? I thought that was a myth?”
Surah turned back to her with a quick smile. “No. Sorry, not a myth, just a long time ago. He’s catatonic. We think someone put a compulsion on him. Whether it was willing or not is the question. He’ll be confined until it either wears off or he dies, whatever the will of the caster was at the time the spell was placed.”
The casual words—imprisonment and death—chilled Bea. But, she understood. If any other world leader had been attacked, even if Prince Geza was more equivalent to a tribal leader since gargoyle clans were scattered all over, the repercussions would have been just as graphic.
Sarah patted her shoulder. “I don’t think you have a concussion, but you’ll have nasty bruise and a headache. I’ll have the staff send some pain pills to your room. Stay up for a few hours, okay?”
“Niko should stay with her,” Veda said. “Once the Prince’s warriors take over, he won’t be needed.”
Surah frowned. “We need him. But we’ll put her in a room near Geza. That might work out, actually, since—”
Bea lifted a hand. “I can’t stay here.”
Surah’s expression was kind, but resolute. The look of a Princess used to command. “I’m afraid you have no choice until the lockdown is over. Might as well enjoy the accommodations and free food. No more booze tonight, though.”
8
She saw the look on his face as he stepped away from the others and approached her.
"I'm fine," Bea said, short. She felt so foolish, and her head was pounding.
“You should have signaled me,” Niko said, voice even more terse than usual. “Malin said he ignored you. I wouldn’t have.”
She shrugged, and regretted the movement. “You can’t control everything.”
“I shouldn’t have brought you here. The situation with Prince Geza has been uncertain. I should have anticipated some madness like this.” His mouth thinned. “Humans are vulnerable, the females delicate and easily harmed. You shouldn’t be here.”
What did he mean, he shouldn’t have brought her here? “There’s danger everywhere, Niko. And I’m not a wallflower. You see Malin trusts me to handle business.” She had to point that out. It bothered her he saw her as some delicate thing when her own employer—a former Prince—took her competence for granted to the point where he allowed her to assist in the middle of a dangerous, personal crisis.
Niko bent down and slid an arm under her knees, lifting her into a cradle hold. She threw an arm around his neck automatically, not quite suppressing her undignified squeak. “What are you doing? Niko, stop.”
“The Princess ordered a suite for you for the night. I’m taking you to rest. I’ll be on guard.”
She spluttered. “You can’t just—Mr. Ioveanu needs me. I haven’t reported yet.”
Malin glanced over as Niko walked by, evidently hearing his name. “I’ll come to you shortly, Bea. Settle in with Niko, he’ll protect you.”
Was everyone taking for granted that she and Niko were together? They were almost casual about it. And why did they keep saying she needed protection? Because she was human?
“This is complete bullspit,” she fumed as Niko stepped into the hallway and continued walking. “Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m weak.”
Niko stopped. “Bullspit?”
“Some of us have children we need to set a decent example for and don’t use foul language.”
He said something rude.
“And why is everyone acting like you’re my boyfriend?”
“Because I told them I was. My claim will put a layer of protection around you, along with Malin’s. His enemies will think twice.”
“I need to get home to Aeezah.” She didn’t really since her daughter was with her father overnight, but Bea didn’t want to be on lockdown like everyone else. She didn’t even have a toothbrush.
“Just roll with me on this, Bea.” Another warrior joined him, shutting the door, and he glanced over his shoulder to see who it was, nodding.
The idea of Niko keeping her company alone in a room sent a flutter, swiftly suppressed, through her body. She had no business fluttering. But, Bea realized by Niko’s stance and those of the guards around him that she wasn't going to get anywhere by continuing to argue. She was stuck whether she liked it or not.
The room that they put her in was far more luxurious than she was used to. There was a king-sized bed that she eyed with subtle interest. Aeezah slept with her
often, and the idea of having such a huge bed all to herself for an entire evening was enticing. Although, Bea had to admit it would be nice to share the bed with someone else other than her daughter.
“I’ll have food sent up,” he said after prowling the room for several minutes and then dismissing the other guard.
“I’m not really hungry.”
His eyes slashed her. “Then I’ll order applesauce or broth and crackers.”
She snorted, sat on a couch, and figured she didn’t have to eat it. “Fine. It seems easier to just let you fuss. I’ll have to ask Veda if you were hell to live with growing up.”
“My sister adores me.”
Bea crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch and half way closing her eyes. If she was lucky, he wasn’t the chatty type. His energy filled the room. Engaging him in conversation . . . wouldn’t be smart.
Niko took a thin comm unit from his pocket and swiped. “Father? I need a favor.” He had the unit on silent, so the response would come across the screen in text, even though the caller could see and hear him. “You’re on your way? Good. But, it’s not just the Princes. Malin’s employee, Bea, has been injured defending him and Geza. She’ll need to be watched over the next few days.” Niko read the reply, lip twisting in a sneer. “It’s politics.” He swore. “I know, damn you. I staked a claim on her, so no one will think twice if they see you with her when I’m not. Just until we know she won’t be used. There’s a slim chance, but it’s still a chance.”
Bea sat up straight. “Niko, are you dragging your father into babysitting duty? Absolutely not!”
He glanced over at her and frowned. “He’ll behave. You’re mine.”
“I am not yours. Where does everyone get this idea that I’m yours?”
Niko glanced back at his comm unit and grimaced. “Mother gave you trouble, too. I’ll brief you when you land.”
He walked over to her once he’d put the unit away, and sat on the couch. Bea realized at that moment that the low back was to accommodate wings—he draped them over the edge, shocking her when he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.
“I’m sorry you were hurt,” he said softly. His eyes held hers, a ruthless glint that told her she wouldn’t like his next words, no matter how he tried to soften them up. “And it sucks you’re now in a position you didn’t really ask for. But until I know you are safe, you’ll have to follow orders, Bea.”
She tugged at her hand. “I’m not your soldier, I don’t follow orders.”
“You’ll follow mine, Bea.” His voice was low, dangerous. “You’re a part of my world now, and here I outrank you.”
She spluttered. “We’ll just see what Malin says about that!”
His wings snapped open, blocking out the moonlight. “He may be your employer, but you’re mine.” His slight smile wasn’t very pleasant, especially since he watched her with all the alien, feral attention of a wolf. Or a praying mantis. “He’ll put me in charge of your personal security arrangements, which means you’ll have to obey me. I’m not trying to take away your independence. I’m trying to protect you.”
Was she protesting too much? Should she be grateful for the concern, or worried she was being run over roughshod? “I need to talk to Aeezah.”
“Where is she?”
“With her father.”
“For the night? Good. Leave her there. Right now, no one is thinking about her, and that’s what you want.”
The way he said the words scared her. “Do you really think I’m a target?”
His expression was hard. “The attempts on the Ioveanu’s have increased since it’s become obvious they won’t go to war with each other. Usually a civil war starts with a slap to the face. An insult.”
“Not a literal slap to the face?”
“No, Bea.”
She thought about what she knew of gargoyle history. Of warfare, period. Even political warfare, where no blood was shed, at least on the outside. His thumb rubbed along the back of her hand, derailing her thoughts.
“You aren’t important to anyone but Malin, and you’re weak. Seen as weak because you’re human. If you were harmed, it would be an insult to Malin, enough cause for him to go to war. You’re female, too, which makes it worse. A Prince who can’t protect his females . . . . ”
She muttered under her breath.
Niko’s eyes narrowed. “We are not sexists. We understand the weaker, physical nature of the gentler gender.” His free hand slid around the back of her neck, and he tugged her forward. “I’m not my father, and I’m not one of the Neanderthals with wings running around the compound. I don’t actually believe you’re weak, Bea. But you aren’t a warrior. Not yet.” His lips curved, though his eyes remained serious. “I can teach you.”
He was pulling her in too close, enough that she unbalanced a moment and laid a hand on his chest to get steady. What was he doing? Her head hurt, but all she could see was his eyes, staring down at her. Ben had never cared about her safety. He’d been the type of husband who espoused feminist ideals—which meant he didn’t call her if she was late getting home and it was dark. Didn’t mind sending her to the grocery store alone in a poor neighborhood at night.
But this male. She licked her lips. “Warrior skills?”
His eye lowered to her mouth. “Among other things. Did you love your husband?”
“Not really. I was young. I didn’t know that we weren’t compatible.”
Her breath hitched when his head lowered. “Compatibility sounds boring.” His mouth hovered over hers, fingers tightening on her neck. Trapped, just by the strength of his hand and the temptation of his lips.
“Compatibility is important.”
“Passion is important. Honor.” Something in his voice alerted her, but then it was gone. “Kindness.”
She wasn’t surprised when he kissed her. He’d given her plenty of warning, time to protest or pull away. And, when he took her mouth, she knew it was just the first tiny step of an assault on her senses. Wings rustled, wrapping her in a cocoon as he held her, tongue slipping between her lips to play. Her body lit, an immediate fuse. But, it had been burning, slow and low, for weeks. Every time he looked at her with inscrutable eyes. Every time he picked up a heavy box or watched, alert, as a male customer approached. The care and stern kindness he showed his sister. The way he’d defended her against his father. All the little things softening her up, ready for slaughter.
Ready to fall in love.
The sound of a knock on the door broke her from the reverie. Niko pulled away, a terrible heat in his face. “Later,” he promised, and stood.
She lifted her now free hand to her lips, feeling suddenly cold without the blanket of his wings. “I—should there be a later?”
He stared down at her. “There will be a later, Bea. Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing.” And she resented the implication. She wasn’t a teenager or twenty-something.
“Do you really think after one small taste of you that I would let you change your mind?” He turned after a moment, and went to open the door. She didn’t know when the blade appeared in his hand, but it was there, slight, subtle, and deadly.
Niko stepped back, blade vanishing when Surah stepped into the room. She stopped, looked at Bea, then at Niko, expression displeased. “She has a borderline concussion, Sir Nikolau. Can’t you save the face chewing for later?”
“This is me waiting.”
The Princess sighed. “Get out so I can talk to her for a moment. I think my brothers need you anyway.”
He nodded and left, muttering something about sisters. As soon as the door closed behind him, Surah moved towards Bea and sat. “I’m sorry, again, for tonight. You shouldn’t be tangled up in our business like this. And now I’ve got Veda about to get in a fight with her father over something Malin said to her.” She grimaced. “Males.”
“I didn’t really think.”
Surah smiled sourly. "It's that kind of thing that can endear
you to our kind. We’re a species of action, and little thought."
That made sense to Bea. But it wasn't the kind of person that she considered herself. She didn’t do rash things. Every move she made was well thought out and considered. She had no idea what had gotten into her.
“Can I ask you soemthing personal?” Bea asked.
“Sure. I don’t have to answer.”
True. “Why do you say your ‘brothers’ sometimes?”
“Oh, that?” Surah smiled. “Even though Malin was almost an adult when Geza and I came along, we were all raised together. I was an honorary Ioveanu because of a deal their father struck with my mother when she was his concubine. My father was a human diplomat the old Prince gave her to one night. So sometimes I just slip because for so long...” she shrugged. “I always loved him, it just wasn’t a woman’s love until I was almost sixteen. And he refused to act on it until years later.”
“But now because of the marriage—”
“I’m a legal Ioveanu, and part of the succession because of our child and some shady shenanigans Geza pulled a few years ago when he thought he was spiting Malin.”
“That’s fascinating—it should be a popular romance novel. Thank you for answering, I’ve been insatiably curious for a while. I guess having my head knocked around has lowered my tact, though.”
Surah snorted. “Someone approached Malin for script rights a year ago. Damn e-zines. The actress they wanted to cast didn’t look anything like me. And they thought we would agree to do a movie for…what was it? Something stupid, like public relations or exposure.” The princess studied her for a moment. “Do you know what it means that Niko has indicated interest in you?”
“Evidently, it means he has a license to be an ass.”
Surah’s eyes narrowed. “Has he done anything against your will? I’ll cut him if he has.”
The threat of violence caused her to hesitate. “No . . . it’s just happening fast. He barely says two words to me and then all of a sudden he’s acting . . . .”
