by K. M. Shea
I straightened my tie, then picked up my borrowed handbag. “It’s not very likely. If it was under the House’s guardianship it would have shoved it in my face every chance it had. My parents had a safe, but it was for paperwork only—like birth certificates and social security cards—and again the House would have pushed me to it. The only way it could be in the House was if my parents gave it to a member of the House to hold for safekeeping, but that’s impossible because if it was one of my family members they would have given it to me, and if it was someone under Mason’s thumb he’d already have it.”
“A wise statement.” Mrs. Schuman offered out her hand. “We wish you luck, Miss Medeis. We’ll keep Mason hoodwinked as long as possible, but we have to post a notice with the Curia Cloisters for their record keeping. I imagine he’ll figure it out after that.”
I shook her hand, then Mr. Shafer’s. “Thank you for everything you have done—both of you.”
Mr. Shafer smiled and waved before he began organizing papers.
Mrs. Schuman saw me to the lobby of the office building they rented rooms in, where Josh was waiting for me.
Josh was Killian’s Second Knight and the most unlikely vampire ever.
He was about average height—which made him a little short for a vampire—and though he had the classic vampire good looks with black hair, pale skin, and the tell-tale red eyes, his mannerisms and way of talking totally threw the stereotypes out the window.
For starters, he’s pretty obsessed with death for someone who is immortal, and he has enough weapons to arm a small army.
Josh also happened to be my third trainer. He usually coached me on sword fighting, but he sometimes took over for my martial arts training if Celestina was busy.
Yeah, I don’t understand why Killian uses his top two vampires as my nannies either. I think it’s because he wants a quality product out of this, but he’s so mercurial it’s hard to tell for sure.
Josh had been staring at the unlit fireplace in the lobby, but he stirred when I approached him. “You have finished your business dealings?”
I slung my borrowed handbag over my shoulder. “Yeah. I need to stop by Tutu’s Crypta & Custodia, but it’s already pretty late.”
“How could you say it is late, when the blush of night hasn’t yet murdered the light of day?” Josh unfolded a black umbrella before he joined me outside, standing in the orange glow of the evening sunlight.
Contrary to popular belief, vampires didn’t instantly die or turn to ash if they were touched by the sunlight.
It was super uncomfortable and it did a number on their speed and natural power, so most vampires avoided it. Of course, Josh was a member of the Drake Family, and Killian never did anything by halves, so naturally he had his vampires train outside in the afternoon sunlight some days.
I hefted the handbag strap farther up my shoulder. “Are we going to wait for someone to drive out from Drake Hall and pick us up?”
“No.” Josh slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “His Eminence was in town this afternoon for a meeting. I believe he is en route.”
“Killian is picking us up?”
“Indeed.”
“That’s…something,” I lamely said. I looked up and down the city street—which was still bustling with traffic—but paused when I saw a woman leaning against the brick edge of the office building.
She was on her cellphone and watching me, but when I met her gaze, she spun around…but not before I saw the House Tellier coat of arms that was printed on her T-shirt.
House Tellier was one of the wizarding Houses that helped Mason pull off his coup. Which meant it was probably Mason she was talking to on her phone—or if not him, one of the Tellier rats who was going to scurry off and report back to him.
So much for misleading Mason as long as possible.
But if he was going to be a total idiot and try attacking me in public, I’d rather not make it near Mrs. Schuman and Mr. Shafer’s office after all the help they’d given me.
“Hey, Josh, could we cross the street?” I asked.
“If you wish.” Josh led the way to the crosswalk, dutifully pushed the button, and waited for the light to change.
The House Tellier wizard watched us, but she didn’t try to follow, even when we walked a few blocks to a city park.
I kept a death-grip on my handbag as I considered tapping magic—even though wizards were supposed to avoid using it publicly. Though I didn’t see Mason or his goons, it didn’t mean they weren’t on the way.
I tilted my head, feeling for the tell-tale sizzle of wizard magic.
Josh watched me from under the rim of his umbrella. “Is something wrong?”
“No—” I froze when magic brushed my senses. It wasn’t the zesty feeling of wizard magic, but the floral flavor of fae magic—which tasted like rose-scented bathwater.
I turned in a slow circle, my eyes carefully tracing our surroundings. “There’s a fae somewhere nearby,” I whispered, knowing Josh would be able to hear me.
Josh didn’t move, but the air around him sharpened.
I casually drifted closer, freezing momentarily when I saw the man standing just to the side of a small copse of trees. He was eye catching with his silvery hair and copper toned skin, but I’d seen him before. He was a fae from the Night Court—the fae Court that loathed Killian and his vampire Family. “I see Ira—my three o’clock,” I muttered, standing still for a few long moments before moving to face the curb where Killian would hopefully soon arrive.
Josh briefly twisted, as if addressing me. “I see him.”
“What do we do?”
“Nothing.”
“Seriously?”
Josh nodded at the street. “Because backup has arrived.”
The Drake motorcade pulled up to the curb. Today it consisted of three black luxury SUVs—though it was anyone’s guess which car Killian was actually in.
The back door to the first SUV popped open, and Celestina slid out. “I’ll take your handbag, Hazel. Killian wants you in his car.”
I shook my head. “Given all the papers, I’d rather keep the handbag with me.”
Celestina chucked. “Very well. Would you like—”
“Killian’s pet is still alive, what a surprise.”
I slowly turned around, narrowing my eyes as I watched Ira amble closer to us, bringing the cloying floral taste with him.
Josh narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat, Consort Ira?”
“Not at all. I was merely observing my surprise at one helpless wizard surviving in Drake Hall for so long.” Ira smiled, handsome in a cloying sort of way.
“Drop whatever spell you’re weaving,” I warned him.
Ira paused when he reached the sidewalk and sneered at me. “You really think you could stop me?”
“No,” I said. “But I don’t particularly feel like hanging around to answer police questions when these two disembowel you.” I nodded first to Josh—who rested a hand on his broadsword—and then to Celestina—whose hand had drifted to the pocket that held her gun.
Ira scoffed. “Even Killian Drake could not survive the public uproar of murder in a public place.”
“I doubt that. All it would take is a few photos of him in dark suits staring at the moon and he’ll have the public swindled that it’s part of his dark, brooding charm. He’d probably get his own Netflix series or something.” I squinted at the fae. “You don’t have the right look to pull off dark and brooding though—sorry. You’re more of a pouter.”
Ira’s natural fae beauty twisted into something ugly. “Careful, pet, lest you say something you come to regret.”
“Touch my wizard, you’ll start a war.” Killian snaked an arm around my waist and scooped me against his side, his appearance as stealthy as it was sudden.
Ira raised both of his eyebrows. “You have such strong feelings for her, do you? How shocking. Killian Drake has grown fond of a rat-blood.”
I stirred, intending to complain that i
t wasn’t really fair of him to call me a rat-blood—it’s not like my blood smelled like roadkill to him. But Killian must have guessed my idea because he raised his hand to brush the back of my neck and smashed my face into his suitcoat, muffling my complaint.
“Haven’t you heard? She’s unsealed her powers—which rival her parents’. That makes her a great deal more useful than most fae.” Killian let me go long enough that I could glare up at him and witness his smug smirk.
Ira started to snarl, then he forced a brittle, seething smile as he reined in his outburst. “If that’s so, then you really ought to be careful with her and mind your precious pet, hadn’t you?” Ira’s eyes flickered with something wild. “Accidents happen. It would be such a shame if something happened to her.”
I had switched to gripping Killian’s suitcoat with a death-grip as I stared at the Night Court Consort. Had he just threatened me? In the middle—okay, no—late hours of the day? In a park?
Sheesh. No wonder my parents hated politics.
But that revelation delivered a prickled reminder that I was avoiding thinking of my parents. Thankfully, all of my thoughts screeched to a halt when Killian laughed.
Like, he actually tipped his head back and laughed.
Ira, myself, Celestina, and even Josh eyed Killian with varying degrees of puzzlement and concern.
When his amusement finally subsided, Killian turned back to the car. “Wizard, come.”
“If you snap your fingers I will bite you,” I muttered, though I did turn to follow him.
When he slid into the back seat of the middle SUV, I made a beeline for the front passenger seat.
“In the back, Wizard,” Killian called.
I sighed and let my shoulders droop, but reluctantly closed the front door and clambered into the back seat.
When I first arrived at Drake Hall I didn’t like sitting in back because I knew if I breathed wrong, he’d kill me. Now I didn’t like sitting in back because being seated next to Killian and his dazzling looks in an enclosed space was a mixture of danger and nausea. (I mean, he knew he was handsome, and he wasn’t above using it.)
The door closed behind me—our driver’s work most likely, given that the door locked behind me, too. Which was petty! I hadn’t clawed my way out of sitting in the back with Killian. Yet.
“What was that about?” I peered through the window. Ira was still in the park, though he’d slunk back toward the playground equipment and watched us pull way over his shoulder.
“With such a vague question I have no possible way of knowing what you are talking about,” Killian carelessly said.
“Why did you laugh at Ira?” I asked.
“Because it’s hilarious.” The sparkle of humor had returned to his voice.
“In what way?”
“The fae are obviously intimidated by you at the very least—I’d say they must be even afraid, or he never would have uttered that ridiculous threat.”
“It didn’t feel ridiculous to me.”
“No, but you take self-preservation quite seriously—except when you decide not to.” The last line he uttered with more of a sneer.
“Huh?” I very intelligently replied.
“Occasionally your tendency to be a virtuous idiot will make you fling yourself into dangerous situations you should actively leave.”
“Are we finally talking about Solene?”
Killian said nothing and stared outside.
We had talked about the crazy vamp when I had woken up after the fight. Killian had read me into the situation, then gave me the dire warning that we’d talk about my stupidity in attacking Solene at a future date.
Except we never did. And while Killian never hesitated to allude to the incident and how stupid he thought I was to do it, he would never go farther than aggravated hints.
I looked into the rearview mirror, my eyes meeting the gaze of the vampire driving the car, shook my head, and shrugged.
The vampire only blinked back, but before I could try any other expressions out, Killian tossed something black at my face.
I caught it before it beaned me in the nose—thank you, Celestina, for all the training—and frowned. “What is it?”
“I thought it would have been obvious,” Killian said.
I turned the object over in my hands. “This is a smartphone.”
“Congratulations, you’re a genius.”
I swiped the screen, unlocking the phone. It had a bunch of numbers in the phone book, some basic apps, and someone had changed the background picture to a blue-hued lightning bolt—Celestina, maybe?
“You got me a cellphone?”
“It seemed better than having you run around stealing Drake cars.”
“I borrowed Rupert’s car—he got it back!” I studied the phone with a slight frown. “Is this really okay, though? Do I need to pay for the plan?”
Killian’s brows arched up. “Why?”
“Well…this isn’t going to be one of those favors that I really regret later because the price is too high, is it?” I asked.
Killian shrugged slightly and draped his arms over the back of the seat. “That’s more a fae’s style. And as stupid as you were in the execution of it, you’ve earned some of your keep.”
I stared down at the phone, surprised. Killian had never been hesitant to drop cash on me, but it had always been for things that were necessary—like clothes. He hadn’t bought anything personal like this. “Thank you.”
“We’ll see if you’re still thankful tomorrow.”
I eyed Killian, my suspicions renewed. “Why?”
Killian’s smile was so predatory, it made the hair on the back of my neck stick up. “We’re going to visit an old friend.”
After sunset the following day, Killian dragged me to a small grocery store on the edge of town.
“We don’t need a cart?” I asked.
We passed through the doors that dumped us in the fruit section, and Killian gave me a withering look. “I already told you, we’re here to find an old acquaintance. Why would we need a cart?”
“I don’t know, the kitchens might be out of milk and eggs or something,” I said. “I was being thoughtful.”
“Mmm. Come on.” I lingered for a moment, looking back, but none of the Drake vampires had followed me in. Whomever we were meeting, they must be relatively harmless.
I hurried after Killian, gazing longingly at the glazed donuts in the bakery display, then shivering as we tromped through the chilly meat section, followed by dairy. We walked the length of the building before darting into the freezer aisles—specifically the ice cream section.
An old man stood in the abandoned aisle, pressing his face against the freezer doors so he could view the ice cream flavors. “Rocky road—shall you seduce me again, you flirt? Or perhaps tonight is the night of mint chocolate chip?”
The old man was pretty eccentric—not just because he talked to ice cream flavors. Dressed in long draping robes that were a beautiful silver color and accented with dark blue embroidery of stars and crescent moons, the old man could have been mistaken for a video game character.
“Oh, it’s the Paragon,” I said.
The old man twisted around. “Oh—it’s you again,” he said when he saw Killian, though he paused when he noticed me. “And you brought your wizard?” He twisted the ends of his long silvery mustache—he must have used scoopfuls of beard wax or something to get the ends to curl. He looked like a ridiculous cartoon villain.
“Paragon.” Killian inclined his head to the most powerful fae in America—although the Paragon himself told me he was not a fae ruler but representative, which basically meant a professional fae wrangler.
The Paragon squinted at him with suspicion. “What do you want now? I heard the rumors that your wizard successfully broke her seal—well done, by the way, Hazel.”
I grinned. “Thanks!”
“She needs your advice.”
“I do?” That was certainly news to me.
Killian ignored my question. “Take us to your workshop.”
“No,” the Paragon groaned like an irritated teenager. “I’m picking my ice cream. You can wait!”
“Paragon,” Killian said in a warning tone.
“Fine—but you owe me an ice cream cake for this.” The Paragon dug a pink unicorn coin purse out of a pocket in his robe and flicked it open. A gust of wind slapped at my face, making me close my eyes, so I didn’t get to see the Paragon’s personal pocket realm settle around us.
When I opened my eyes, however, the grocery store was gone, and we stood in a strange hybrid of modern tech toys—like a sleek gaming system—and ancient magic shown by the Paragon’s personal desk which was formed by living trunks twisted together.
He’d made a few changes to the room—it was still stuffed with bookshelves, but it had a wood floor now, and he’d swapped out paintings and artifacts around the room.
The most noticeable thing that hadn’t changed, however, was the massive velvet pet bed that claimed the middle shelf of the biggest bookshelf in the whole workshop. Lounging on that bed was a gloriously hairless sphinx cat. She was flat on her back, displaying her flabby belly and pink skin to the world, though she looked up after we arrived, making the tiny gold bell on her purple collar jingle.
“Hello, Aphrodite,” I said to the cat.
She flicked her tail a few times, then let gravity drag her head back so her bald chin jutted up into the air, somewhat resembling a lazy hobgoblin.
“What a rare occasion!” the Paragon gushed. “She’s invited you to give her scratches under the chin!” He gave me a smile of rapture as he pointed to his cat. He was, I’d learned on my previous trip to his workshop, one of those really intense pet parents. Which meant I had better pet the cat, or we’d never get what we actually came here for—whatever that was.
I reluctantly approached Aphrodite’s bed and carefully stroked her cheeks. It was kind of a weird sensation. I mean, my brain told me Aphrodite was a cat, and therefore I needed to expect fur, but given that she was hairless I was just rubbing her skin.
