by Emma Alisyn
“Thank you for your patience, Bea,” Prince Malin said. “We think it’s best you stay near to one of us for now.”
She looked between all the males. Niko’s eyes were on his Prince, while Geza and Malin watched her. Kausar swiped through the large touchscreen embedded in the desk and made notations, though he looked up and nodded at Bea once.
“I’ve given orders that your role in my defense not be spoken of,” Geza said.
“What do you mean?” she asked, baffled. “Is it wrong that the female trainees fought with you?”
The Prince glanced at Niko, impatient. “Make her understand what she did. And who the Mogrens are.”
“Your knowledge helped foil their assassination attempt, Bea,” Niko said, voice very quiet. “If they find out it was you, they’ll no longer view you as just a pawn they can eliminate to annoy Malin. You’ll be a direct enemy.”
“Oh. That’s not . . . good.”
“No.”
“What should I do?”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Geza said. “Keep training. The warriors who were present know what you did, so you shouldn’t have to deal with any more bullshit on the field than any other newbie. You’ve earned that much respect. The Ioveanus know what you did. Ioveanus never forget an enemy, or an ally.”
“Highness, may I escort her to my suite?” Niko asked.
Geza nodded. “Who’s seen to the care of the other female trainees?” He glanced at Kausar.
“My second,” Kausar said. “I’ll check in with him when we’re done here and ensure they’ve been tended.”
Their culture baffled Bea sometimes. Many of them lived in the dark ages when it came to women’s rights and roles, but here was proof that at least at the highest levels of their society, ‘taking care of the females’—and not in a patronizing way—was a priority.
She mentioned it to Niko as they walked to his suite. He glanced at her, brows furrowed. “Well, of course, Bea. Especially these females. They’ll likely be the mothers of the next generation of warriors. Plus they’ve already proven their loyalty to the Prince. He’d be a fool not to make sure they’re cared for.” He paused, thoughtful. “I’d bet he even arranges matches for them.”
She blinked. Prince Geza, the gargoyle warrioress matchmaker.
“What’s wrong, Niko?” she asked him softly.
He continued to stare at her, face smooth, his eyes a fathomless lake. “I hesitated.”
“I don’t understand.” She didn’t move towards him, though her instinct was to offer him comfort. There was something fey about him, not quite angry, not quite savage . . . but completely cold. He’d never looked at her like she was an enemy. She suspected his strange expression indicated that now. What had she done?
“When Prince Geza was in danger, I hesitated. I wanted to protect you first.”
Bea relaxed. “Oh. Niko—you can’t blame yourself for feeling that way.” She chose her words carefully. “It’s normal, and instinctive because I’m female. But you didn’t come to me first, you did your duty. Prince Geza is safe because of you.”
“I hesitated.”
She knew she couldn’t help him. She swallowed, throat dry. “Maybe you should talk to Prince Malin.” He would talk sense into Niko.
He gave her a long look. “Maybe I should.”
Bea reached for him, but he stepped away. Her hands fell to her sides. “Are you angry because I didn’t leave?”
“No. I’m not angry.”
He was too still, the life gone out of his eyes. She knew a moment of true fear, and realized how important he’d become to her. “You’re scaring me, Niko. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I want you to leave.”
She took a deep breath. Okay. She could handle that. She understood his fears. “I understand it’s been a stressful day, and we need to talk about how things went. When everything has settled—”
“No, Bea. I want you gone. You don’t belong here, you’re human. I never should have let you get involved.”
“You’re not a man who gives his word and then goes back on it. Or changes his mind because things get tough.”
“You think I’m changing my mind because things are tough?” His brow rose. “I’ll have them take you home, and then you need to leave, Bea.”
She studied his face and realized he likely wasn’t going to be reasonable. If what he needed was for her to clear out for a few days so he could relax and concentrate on work . . . maybe she could work something out with Prince Malin. Take Aeezah to see her grandparents.
“Okay. When I get back we’ll talk.”
“No. We won’t.”
“Excuse me?” She took step back, an involuntary movement of shock and denial.
He looked away, and when he met her eyes again, they were cold, stone-cold. “I don’t want to see you again, Bea. And I don’t want you to even come back to the city. If you do, we’ll chase you out. Do you understand?”
“Niko!” She lurched towards him, the shock of his words spurring her into action. “Why are you saying things like that? You can’t react like this just because today was scary.”
He caught her by the wrists when she almost tripped, almost leaped at him. His lip curled, the touch of scorn devastating. “Leave, female. I don’t want to see you here anymore.”
Nikolau released her, and as he strode out of the room without a second look, her knees buckled. She couldn’t move from the floor for a long time.
“I need to talk to you,” Niko said, returning to Geza’s office once he’d left Bea. The sickness roiling in his gut made it impossible to keep his tone polite. A vise clamped around his chest, stealing his air. He needed carbs.
Malin turned around, eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“I want Bea out. Out of the court, out of the city. The state.”
The other male grimaced, impatience flitting across his face. Niko suppressed the urge to put his first in Malin’s jaw. “We already discussed this with her, Nikolau. She doesn’t want to go.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she wants.” He braced himself, steeled his heart. “I don’t want her anymore. It will be easier if she’s gone.”
Malin stilled, and the same desire to shove fist in jaw Niko had just felt filled his eyes. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“What I heard is vomit spewing forth from the throat of a sniveling coward.”
“You want her to be killed? She almost died out there—I was watching.”
“All of us almost died, why is she not allowed to take the same risk?” His voice was a whiplash against Niko’s feelings.
He steeled himself. “She isn’t one of us. I made a mistake, and I’ve changed my mind before it’s too late. You have to fire her and make her leave.”
Malin gave him a long, impassive look, a thick blanket of danger in the room before it lifted and the Prince nodded. “Very well.”
“Thank you.” Niko turned on his heel to walk out.
“I thought better of you,” he heard the Prince murmur. “I wonder if we made a mistake.”
22
“Are we going to the greenhouse today?” Aeezah asked at breakfast.
“No, honey. Not today.” Bea felt hollow inside, as if everything good had been gutted out of her and tossed in the garbage. Getting out of bed had been a challenge. She was glad that Aeezah was with her that weekend, otherwise she might have stayed in bed.
A week after he’d broken up with her, she felt like she was able to breathe again, but there was an empty space in her life. She had never noticed it so keenly before. After two weeks passed, she knew that he wasn’t going to call her to apologize. Not that she really expected him to; he had made his feelings on the situation more than clear. Bea threw herself into living her life and wished more than anything for the pain to go away.
“Then are we going to the tower for training?” Aeezah munched on her cereal and looked up at Bea with curious eyes. She could sense that there
was something amiss, and Bea hated that. She wanted to shield Aeezah from as much of the fallout of her break-up with Niko as possible. It would be difficult. Aeezah had grown fond of Niko, and Bea had thought the feeling was mutual. Clearly, she had been wrong.
“No, we won’t be doing that anymore,” Bea said.
“Why not? It was fun, and you were getting really good at it,” Aeezah said.
Bea struggled to find the right words. She hadn’t expected to have to explain the situation already. “Sweetie, sometimes, things don’t always work out the way that we think they will. I know that you’ve enjoyed going to the greenhouse and the palace.”
“And seeing Niko and Veda and Stacia and Surah and Kausar,” Aeezah said, rattling off their names in such a quick succession that Bea realized she had grown even more attached to the gargoyles than Bea anticipated. It wasn’t just Bea’s social circle that had expanded, but Aeezah’s as well. That thought made her even angrier at Niko for what he had done to her.
“Yes, well, you aren’t going to be seeing any of them again. At least for awhile,” Bea said. Or ever again, she thought without speaking that out loud. Unlike the way that Niko had treated her feelings on the matter, Bea intended to let Aeezah down gently.
“Why?” Aeezah put her spoon down and grabbed Bea’s hand. “Did I do something wrong?”
Bea quickly settled down on the floor next to Aeezah’s chair and stroked her daughter’s hair. “Of course not, sweetie. You’ve always been perfect.”
“Then why?” Aeezah’s lower lip trembled. Her face reflected every bit of the turmoil that Bea felt inside herself.
“It’s a grown-up thing,” she said lamely. “Humans and gargoyles don’t mix well. I know that’s hard to understand, but it’s better if we stick with our own species and they stay with theirs. Otherwise, people can get hurt. I’m sorry, Aeezah.”
Aeezah left quietly to go to her room, Bea watching with a hurt heart. Her daughter would immerse herself in her favorite shows or color or play with toys to hide her hurt. That was all Bea could do as well . . . try to move on.
She’d refused to leave the city. Prince Malin had laid out the reasoning behind the plan he presented, and she’d refused him. Demanded he recall any security he still had watching her.
“I’ll agree with you staying in the city, Bea,” he’d said gravely. “But security will remain.”
“Are you going to fire me, like he wants?”
His fingers tapped the glass of his desk. “I think you deserve a leave of absence. I’m not firing you, Bea, but I understand Niko’s concerns. He’ll come around in time,” the Prince added.
“I don’t care if he does or not. He said he didn’t want me. I’m not going to wait for him.”
Malin smiled. “You have a warrior’s spirit. He’s a fool.”
She had no idea how long she sat on the couch, mind numb, before the notification flashed on her comm unit. Veda’s icon popped up on the screen. “Hello, Veda.”
“Bea. How are you?” Her friend’s voice was quiet. Bea had stopped volunteering over the last several weeks, not wanting to run into Niko.
“I’m fine. How are things going there?” She watched as Veda struggled to come up with something that didn’t involve her brother. Bea smiled faintly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to edit to pretend Niko’s never there anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t believe he’s being such an ass about this. I can still—”
“No. No thanks, Veda. We have to move on.”
“Mom and I are furious at him. He’s acting like a jerk! I swore I’d disown him if he ever started acting like my father. Trust me, Bea. He’ll come around. This isn’t like him.”
“Niko made his choice,” Bea said. The words physically hurt as she pushed them out of her mouth. “He thinks I’m too weak to be a part of his life. To weak to be a warrior.”
Veda sighed. “He has issues he needs to work through. He’s a closet control freak, and he also has years of my father in his ears scrambling his brains. I thought he escaped the worst of it, but clearly . . . ”
“Sometimes people just don’t work out together, Veda. You shouldn’t think there’s something wrong with him.”
“Come back to the Garden. Make him see you.”
“No. Veda, no. Just—” she exhaled. “I need to run to the grocery store for dinner. We can talk later.”
It had been a month since the break-up, and Prince Geza sent a warrior to her home to escort her back to training.
“That’s an order, trainee,” the male said curtly. “Your daughter as well.”
“Umm . . . I’m not officially a sworn . . . ” she trailed off as he just looked at her. “I’ll come.”
When she arrived for training, metaphorically kicking and screaming, Prince Geza and Kausar met her on the field.
“You’re Malin’s vassal,” the Prince said, “but that doesn’t preclude you from swearing fealty as a guard of the court.”
“I don’t understand.” Were they insane? She was a single mom, a human, newly arrived, and the weakest among them.
“We’re keeping you,” Geza said. “Fuck Nikolau. This isn’t about him. We need to grow, to modernize our thinking. We need fresh blood in our ranks and more factors in place among humans. The Mogrens—” his face tightened. “—have been building a base among human supporters for years. My father was stubborn. I’m not.”
“If you can’t beat 'em,” she muttered. “What does swearing an oath as a guard mean?”
Kausar took up the conversation. “You’ll be formally inducted into the training regime. Some of the others manage it while working other jobs—the stipend isn’t great.”
“We have a budget,” Geza interjected loftily.
“Tell her the whole truth,” Kausar said.
Geza glared at him, then turned a full wattage, charming smile on Bea. “One of Niko’s assets is that due to his human blood he can manage certain daytime assignments the best among my guard. We need more like him.”
“Okay,” she said, cautiously. That sound reasonable. There had to be a catch.
“We’re considering including full-blooded humans in a daytime-only regime, but the real plan is to breed more warriors like Niko with quarter-blood who can endure daylight.”
“You could have used more romantic phrasing,” Geza said. “You have to woo the females before they’ll agree to whelp litters of little, gray, winged brats.”
“Oh, shit.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. Warrior or not, ladies didn’t cuss.
“It’s okay, Bea,” Geza said. “You can swear now. You survived your first real battle.”
“You want me to find a warrior to marry, don’t you? That’s the real reason you want me to swear the oath and keep up training.”
Geza beamed. “I’m setting up a little matchmaking agency. I think I have a calling.”
“Stones,” Kausar muttered. “The Ioveanus breed one mad one every generation. Never fails.”
“I’ll do it.”
They stared at her. Bea shrugged. “I think I’ve lost my mind, but . . . I’ll do it. I have my own reasons.” Not the least was a desire to keep this odd, newfound, extended family. To continue growing herself and the strength she’d found, both inner and physical. And, the need to get over her broken heart. She wanted to fly again, wanted to feel the cocoon of wings wrapping around her as a male, with more strength than she’d ever know, kissed her. She’d wanted it to be Niko. Her heart ached for it to be Niko. But he didn’t want her. Lord help her to move on.
“What about the Mogrens?” Bea asked. “Have the remote pilots of those drones been arrested?”
Geza’s smile was chilly. “We’re working on that. I can’t say any more. Get another witness for the oath, Kausar. Hurry, before she changes her mind.”
Bea waited while Kausar found another warrior, a younger son of one of Geza’s councilors she was told, and thus his witness was considered impeccable. Bea took the short, si
mple oath and was assured she’d receive a formal document, on paper, with a royal seal as well as digital paperwork to sign and file with the appropriate courts.
Evidently this wasn’t just a cultural formality, but a true legality. After the oath, the Prince returned to his duties and Kausar ordered her to the training field.
“I think you’ll like the additions,” her gruff teacher said, a glint of humor in his eyes.
She was stunned to see all the females in the training courtyard. So many females, in fact, that it had drawn a larger than usual crowd of onlookers as well, many of them wearing the uniform of the palace guards.
“Oh, yes. Yes, I think I will like the additions.” And surrounded by other women, she would forget Niko.
“Have you gotten over your little snit yet?” Geza asked him. “I’ve seen some extreme reactions from warriors to their females being in danger, but this tops it. Congratulations, you are now officially my most hysterical, irrational personal guard.”
The nasty glare Niko turned on his sovereign lord would have made any other male take a step back. Geza just perched on his desk, arms crossed. “Malin says she’s ready to come back from her vacation.”
“What?”
The Prince smiled cruelly. “You didn’t really think we were going to waste her talents because of you?” He paused, shrugged. “I have my eye on a few warriors to match her with. She’ll have her choice.”
Niko battled the surge of rage, a desire to rampage through the office and destroy anything living or inanimate. Starting with his Prince. “She’s human.”
“Your grandmother is human, and her line produced one of my finer warriors. Dumb as a rock, but you can fight.”
They stared at each other.
Niko stared down at the desk, envisioning how it would shatter into trillions of crystal sharp shards if he put his fist through it.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "Do you want her to die?"
"We all die. Warrior up, Sir Nikolau. Or you'll lose her for good."
Niko cursed, strode to the balcony and launched off. There was only one person he could talk to, who would understand.
