Green with what I won’t admit was envy, I had stared daggers at her back, wanting to slap her for being so brazen. (Though, looking back, I realize I probably couldn’t have reached that high even if I had worked up the nerve to go through with it.)
Trent’s words from last night haunt me: I’ll find a way to show you we’re on the same side.
4
As I’m standing here, feeling like I’ve been hit in the stomach, my phone pings with a text.
Peter: I told you fifteen minutes, Chloe. Thomas is now in charge.
I swear under my breath and jam the phone into my back pocket.
“Everything all right?” Eric asks.
“No.” I turn on my heel and walk away, off to figure out what the heck I’m supposed to do now. “Nothing is all right.”
Madeline and Gray show up an hour later. I watch them on the screen in front of me, drumming my fingers on the desk as I call Thomas.
“They’re back,” I tell him sharply.
“Does she have an escort?”
And wouldn’t you know it, for the first time in days, Madeline leaves while Gray is preoccupied talking to Donovan and heads into the convention on her own.
“Yep,” I lie, silently yelling at Madeline. What is the crazy Fox doing? “She’s with Gray.”
“’Kay,” Thomas says. “Keep an eye on her.”
“Yeah.”
He hangs up, and I watch Madeline as she stops to talk to Georgette. Any minute now, Thomas could realize she’s by herself.
I scan the other screens, looking for her team members. Eric’s absent, likely searching for the pixie who attacked his friend. Gray’s still with Donovan, and Jonathan is in Eveningwear, looking like a Griffon on the edge—just like he has all morning. I have a good idea which knight she’s hoping to find.
Ten minutes later, Madeline locates Jonathan, and I sit back, mildly relieved…and starting to question what’s wrong with me. Which side am I on, anyway?
I keep an eye on the pair, casually watching a discussion that becomes heated. They end up heading for the exit, and then something catches Jonathan’s attention. The Griffon grabs Madeline’s arm, drawing her back, and then he subtly points out a man. I scan the screen, trying to figure out who they’re talking about. Not far away, a man in red browses the booths. I can’t see his face. He’s in a ball cap and is turned away from the camera—perhaps on purpose. I believe he’s the one who caught Jonathan’s attention.
They end up tailing him out of the convention.
“Madeline just left with Jonathan,” I tell Thomas when he answers his phone. “They’re following someone.”
“Where are they now?”
“Trailing a man in a red shirt, heading toward the elevators.”
“I’ll have Brett tail them.” He pauses. “Hey, Chloe?”
“Yeah?” I half say, half grunt.
“I’m sorry.”
Sure he is.
“I’ll keep an eye on things here,” I answer, refusing to talk about it. “Are you still watching their suite?”
“No,” he says, sounding put out that I blew off his apology. “I’m heading your way. Gray called, and he wants to talk about the freaking Peacock. I left Tad in the room to keep an eye on things.”
The thought of Tad alone makes me nervous, but I don’t have time to think about it now. Out of all the knights, I believe Jonathan is the least likely to leave Madeline alone anyway, so she should be safe from the unstable Fox.
This day has been an absolute nightmare.
Brett lost Madeline and Jonathan, we have no video evidence of the latest attack, and the last I saw Eric, he was consoling the victimized Peacock. Now Tad won’t answer his freaking phone.
I step into our suite and find it disconcertingly empty.
“Tad?” I call, hoping he’s just in the bathroom.
But there’s no reply. I walk the space, and a premonition that something is wrong causes goosebumps to rise on my arms. The bathroom is empty. I pull back the shower curtain, but nothing. I won’t be able to see the Fox if he is cloaked, so I swipe my arm through the empty space.
I do the same with the closet, and then I step into the main living area.
The surveillance is running, the sound turned down low. Madeline and all four of her knights are in her suite.
Wait.
Four.
My eyes run over the team and then freeze on the newcomer. Dark ash-brown hair, blue eyes, tall and good-looking.
The Obsidian Knight.
What the heck is Rafe doing here? And how does he know Madeline?
Trent knows more than he’s letting on, a little voice whispers in my ear.
I cross my arms, hugging myself. Rafe is on our side—he’s the Entitled’s prize. But it looks like he’s with them.
I turn up the volume.
“You’re a brutal little Fox,” Eric teases Madeline.
“I didn’t have a lot of options,” she responds.
“But he knew about your magic?” Gray asks, obviously steering the conversation back in the direction he wants it to go. “And he was the one leaving you notes?”
I grit my teeth, realizing they’re talking about Tad.
“I believe so, yes,” Madeline answers.
“But he might not have been working alone,” Rafe says from his spot against the wall.
My pulse begins to race, and I go cold. Do they have the Fox? Have they taken him hostage? It wouldn’t take much to get Tad to spill about the rest of us.
With a flick of my hand, I pause the surveillance and play the recorded footage, starting several hours ago.
I move my finger, impatiently fast-forwarding through the empty suite. When I see Tad sneaking into the room, note in his hand, I clench my fists. What was he doing?
He places the note in Madeline’s makeup case and then leaves. Twenty minutes later, Jonathan and Madeline arrive. They’re arguing.
“When it comes down to it, I’d rather watch you walk away now than have let you die at Redstone,” Madeline says, sounding like her heart is about to shatter.
I can’t breathe. I watch, glued to the spot, knowing I should look away, but I can’t.
“Call me if you need me,” Jonathan says, his voice tired and tight. He turns, but just before he’s to the door, he says, “I mean it, Madeline. Even though we can’t be together, my blade is yours.”
Barely breathing, I watch as they exchange a few more heartbreaking words, and then he’s gone. The moment the door closes, Madeline walks to the bedroom and collapses on the bed. Alone.
Shaking myself, I fast forward the footage again, stopping when the door opens and Tad skulks into the room.
He startles Madeline and tries to attack her. I shake my head in disbelief as she hits him with a curling iron, feeling oddly proud of her. To be honest, I expected her to crumble at his feet—cry, beg. But she stood up to him, she fought.
Before he can turn on her, Rafe enters the suite and takes in the scene. No more than a heartbeat passes before he raises his gun and ends the fight.
I walk into the room off the main convention center where we’ve set up our temporary base. Gray, Eric, and Jonathan are supposed to be down here already, meeting with Parker, a Hound from one of the local teams.
When I turned off the surveillance, Madeline and Rafe were in the middle of a serious discussion that I didn’t want any part of.
But I learned something. Something huge.
Rafe and Madeline linked their magic.
The Obsidian Queen and her knight are working together, and Gray’s team is protecting her, not only from us, but the Royal Guild as well.
My world is upside down.
I pretend to busy myself at a table near where Gray and his team speak with Parker. No one pays me any attention—after all, who would notice the Squirrel in the corner?
Madeline and Rafe come in a few minutes later, and I surreptitiously watch them.
“What do you want me t
o do?” Madeline asks Gray after he doles out assignments.
“Stay with Rafe—do not leave his side. Do you understand?”
“Got it,” she snaps, her eyes flashing.
The team separates then. Parker walks next to Jonathan, smiling at the handsome Griffon. Madeline watches them go, looking very much like she’s mad at the world.
“How much do you hate her right now?” I ask Madeline, unable to help myself. I doubt Jonathan’s hurting her on purpose, but the memory of what it’s like to have a knight you love walk away hits me hard.
Startled to find me next to her, Madeline looks over. “Hey, Chloe.”
“Let me let you in on a secret about knight marshals,” I say, agitated with the Griffon. “They never stick around for long.”
Rafe frowns, maybe remembering me from somewhere. I’ve seen him a time or two while conducting Royal Guild business and occasionally in the Entitled circles. But he doesn’t know who I am, has never given me more than a passing glance. Why would he?
This is the first opportunity I’ve had to talk to Madeline. I want to pull her aside and tell her…what? What would I say? Tell her to watch her back? Let her know members of the Entitled are looking for her?
Instead, I turn and walk from the room, heading toward the shopping wing of the casino. Thomas calls me when the cell phone store is in sight.
“I can’t get a hold of Tad,” he says, sounding frantic. “And the room surveillance is missing.”
It’s not missing. It’s in my pocket.
“I told you we couldn’t trust the Fox,” I snarl, putting on the performance of my life. “I just overheard Gray talking to his team. They killed a Fox who attacked Madeline in their room.”
That’s all he needs to know.
Thomas lets out a string of swear words that would make a sailor blush, and I hold my phone away from my ear.
“We’re snagging Madeline tonight,” he finally says. “Trent will help us take out her knights.”
I stop so abruptly; I cause a human pileup behind me. People grumble as they walk around, but I ignore them. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am dead serious. Peter has instructed us to take Madeline to the threshold.”
“Why?”
“He wants to see if she can open it. He’s not convinced she’s the Obsidian Queen, and I’m not either.”
I almost laugh out loud, but I hold it in. They don’t know about Rafe, at least not yet.
“And what are you going to do if she opens it?” I demand.
“We’re going in.” He pauses, letting me fully process the statement. “Bring the recording equipment. The elders want us to scout.”
“When you say, ‘bring the recording equipment,’ do you mean me?”
He lets out a long, frustrated sigh. “Don’t do this, Chloe. I’m sorry you lost the lead—I am. But don’t fight me.”
They want to open a threshold, just like that. No planning, no thought, no team of very large Dragons there to protect our side of the world should things go terribly awry. And will the elders meet us there? Will they put themselves at risk? Of course not. But we’re just a team of lowly Squirrels—expendable.
“Okay,” I say, making up my mind.
He’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing myself to act normal. “I’ll gather the equipment and then meet you there.”
“Thank you, Chloe.” Thomas sounds relieved, like I’m the last thing he wants to deal with right now.
I hang up and head for the cell phone store, more determined than ever.
“Hi there,” a friendly woman says when I step into the brightly lit room. “What can I help you find?”
Fifteen minutes later, I leave with a pay-as-you-go phone that I bought with cold, hard, untraceable cash.
I wait all evening, hoping Thomas or the elders will change their mind, especially when Gray’s team arrests the event director and his wife for the crimes against the Peacocks.
But no, Thomas must decide the chaos is the perfect cover. At ten-fifteen, I get his text.
Thomas: We have Madeline and her knight. Heading to the threshold now.
I don’t answer.
My fingers tremble as I type Eric’s number into the throwaway phone. Steeling my resolve, I send an anonymous tip, telling the knight and his team where Thomas and Brett have taken Rafe and Madeline.
5
The blasted pay-as-you-go phone rings again from its spot atop the kitchen counter, taunting me.
“Why don’t you answer it?” my roommate asks, sounding half exasperated. We’ve been listening to it for the last week.
I scowl at the name on the screen, hating that I bothered to add it to the contacts. It’s the only one in the phone—the only thing in the cheap cell at all.
My real phone rests in my back pocket, full of hundreds of numbers, photos, notes, and more. But Eric’s name isn’t in it.
“Why bother keeping the phone?” Nicole presses when I don’t answer her. “It did its job, right? If you’re not going to talk to him, get rid of it.”
But then I’d lose my connection.
You’re a fool, Chloe. Don’t go down that road again.
I’ve already had one knight marshal break my heart—no need to add another. Two years ago, I swore off men altogether. They’re a nuisance, a distraction, and half of them downright suck. Maybe more than half.
Something tells me Eric might not be in that half, but that’s probably the pheromones talking.
The phone goes silent, and I turn away from it. For one split second, I almost rip it from the counter and toss it in the trash.
Almost.
“You know,” Nicole begins, folding her hands on the table next to her coffee cup, looking like she’s about to start one of her spiels. “The man must be genuinely interested if he’s still calling.”
“I don’t want to talk about Eric,” I say, angry with myself for drawing this out.
My friend purses her lips, knowing better. The truth is, all I want to do is talk about Eric. A younger, and possibly less jaded, version of myself would gladly giggle to Nicole, and together we’d examine every single word he’s ever uttered to me. Without hesitation, I’d answer his call, let him woo me with his warm smiles and cuddly nature.
I’d fall head over heels for him, and then he’d leave me for a Dragon or a Wolf or an Owl—anyone whose magic is more socially impressive than mine.
I realize Nicole has gone silent. I turn to my best friend, surprised she dropped the subject so easily. I wasn’t that harsh with her, and even if my tone was a little sharp, she’s worked with people far more intimidating than I am.
“What is it?” I ask, sitting across from her at our kitchen table. She’s an ideal roommate—she’s quiet, orderly, and she heals me every time I do something stupid and accidentally hurt myself, which is a common occurrence when you’re a Squirrel.
“How did he look?” she suddenly asks. Her voice is hesitant, like she doesn’t think she has the right to inquire.
Surprised Nicole is finally bringing up the subject—though I’ve known she’s wanted to since I returned from Vegas—I drum my fingers on the table. “Which knight are you referring to?”
There are two possibilities, but I know. I just want her to admit it.
She flashes me a look. “Rafe.”
“He seemed fine,” I hedge, not sure what to say. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to hear about how her ex-almost-fiancé looks at Madeline like she’s his entire world.
“Did he recognize you?”
I shake my head.
“I can’t believe he and Gray are working together again,” she murmurs, staring into her cup.
“Rafe hasn’t actually rejoined the team,” I tell her. “He’s just there for Madeline.”
Nicole wrinkles her nose and then promptly changes the subject. “Has anyone figured out what you did?”
“No.” I glance at the now-silent phone, feel
ing slightly ill. Why in the world did I save the evidence?
Get rid of it. Destroy it. Throw it out.
As far as the elders know, the only reason I didn’t make it to the meeting point at the threshold was because I got detained by Donavan Hart’s team. They have no idea I secretly texted Eric to let him know that Thomas and Brett kidnapped Madeline and Rafe.
They do know, however, that Rafe was captured with Madeline. The knight is in for a lot of headaches. He should have brought Madeline to Capella the moment he discovered she was our true queen. If he had, we could have avoided this whole mess.
But that’s his problem, not mine. My role in this drama is finished.
From now on, I’m a regular, law-abiding Squirrel. No intrigue. No missions.
Feeling restless, I push away from the table and end up in front of the fridge, staring at Lord Finnegan’s wedding invitation. Perhaps I should feel honored to receive an invite considering I’m not a real employee of either the Royal Guild or the Knights’ Guild—just a freelance contractor who gets called in from time to time when someone’s fancy coffee maker breaks. Instead, I only feel mild distaste.
The man will be the grand duke soon enough, but he’s not my leader.
“Are you going to go?” Nicole asks when she sees me looking at the invitation.
“No.” I pull the cardstock free of its magnet and throw it in the trash under the sink. I turn around, making a hasty decision, and toss the phone in after it.
I sit at the kitchen table, ignoring the clock on the stove. Nicole went to bed hours ago, but I’m up, tweaking a handheld video game console I’ve been working on. I’ve torn it apart, happy to start from scratch. The faintest smell of burnt plastic and hot metal lingers in the air—a product of my magic manipulating the wires. It’s as soothing as a cup of cocoa.
The old hand-me-down clock in the living room I inherited from my grandmother chimes, announcing the time. It’s three, the in-between hour past a late two o’clock and an early four in the morning.
I should go to bed, leave this for tomorrow. It’s just after I nudge the project away, yawning with my arms stretched in the air, that I hear a faint electronic chirp. I cock my head to the side, listening like a dog.
Traitor of the Entitled Novella Page 3
