And all the more appreciative that I’d survived to adulthood. That could have easily been me lying dead at fifteen, except no queens or princes would have wept at my funeral. I’d have been tossed in a dumpster or maybe the Missouri.
Instead, I had four amazing guys who all wanted to share my life, and we were starting to get on so well too. Hunter and Dagger still had some fences to mend, but despite the tension last night, I thought they’d taken some crucial steps forward.
I kissed Hunter’s scruffy cheek, then rested my head on Bryce’s shoulder.
The crematorium was becoming stuffy. Discreetly slipping off the full-length cashmere coat that Hunter had insisted on buying me for the bitter winter ahead, I wafted my black cardigan back and forth, trying to cool my chest. The crowds of other mourners, pressed shoulder to shoulder, both on the benches and crammed together at the entrance, probably weren’t helping my feverish, spaced-out feeling.
The coffin sank slowly downward into the waiting oven, disappearing as the platform opened and closed for the tragic girl’s last journey on this Earth. A flash of anger spiked through me, and I swore I’d see that bastard Conrad and Armand go down in flames too, preferably screaming and begging, as the Viscountess had at the drug lab and Billy had all those years ago at the feeding den. Those pieces of shit were going to burn.
I breathed deeply, trying my best to stay cool while reminding myself this wasn’t my day of grieving, but that of the Fae.
With that, the funeral ended and select attendees were asked to meet at the Grand Sapphire Hotel’s convention center for refreshments and to share condolences. The invites were limited—or half the damn city would have turned up for a free buffet of 5-star food and alcohol—but Bryce, being business royalty, had been invited, and the Fae had told him to bring his family too. Bryce’s parents had passed away, and he had no siblings, but he’d asked us to accompanyhim without a second’s hesitation. Seb and I, it seemed, had quickly become part of the adoptive family he’d woven with Dagger and Hunter years ago.
Bearing his condition in mind, we waited until the crematorium was empty before making our way back to the limo. I was glad to get out into the chill after the slightly claustrophobic stuffiness of the funeral and feel the breeze sucking the heat off my face and hands as we approached a waiting Gerald, everyone stony faced as we slipped inside the stretch.
The convention center was a bustle of hugs, teary smiles, and dark clothing. Bryce had arranged a cordoned-off section in a corner beside a fire exit, and six burly hotel security guys—likely shifters—stood guard nearby in their sharp gray suits and shiny shoes. Of course, such an arrangement was easily made for Bryce.
He owned the damn place.
Considering this was one of the most prestigious hotels in all of New Nebraska, according to the guys, the cost of the wake must have been astronomical. The Fae royal family must have a lot of money to burn.
There was a gigantic buffet of fine food, all imported from England and Scotland, along with a free bar as broad and bulky as a city bus.
Hunter, Dagger and Seb were all out mingling and sharing condolences. But I’d stayed with Bryce. He’d said I should go meet people, but I’d told him I wanted to keep him company for a bit. I braved the congestion of the bar and brought him back a large Scotch whisky in a delicate crystal glass shaped like a mini fishbowl. Snuggling into his torso and savoring his citrusy cologne, I pulled back enough to look up at him with mischief in my eyes. “You think you might be richer than the queen, Bry? Or are you a pauper compared to her?”
He laughed as I kissed him.
I pulled back quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to us. I already felt like eyes were on me, prickling my scalp from my nape to my crown.
Bryce gave me another kiss, seeming not to care that we kept announcing our relationship and ability to touch to the world. “It’s rumored she owns around a third of the prime real estate in London, so that’s billions of dollars on its own. And then there’s the castles and palaces, the priceless jewelry, the superyacht, the estates in Ireland, Wales, France, the Netherlands, Scotland.”
In those countries, along with England, Fae could live completely unrestricted and considered equal citizens, under the Agreement. Hunter had even said Fae got long-term visas really easily in a bunch of other European countries, too. Diamonds and gold opened a lot of doors. Or was it the threat of their magic…
Bryce had a mouthful of his drink. “Yes, that’s a lot of assets the Fae have in reserve, for sure.” He shrugged. “She’s probably got me beat, but only just.”
I placed a hand on his tightly tailored shirt, above his heart, feeling its calm, steady beat. “Well, I’d love you even if you were as poor as me.”
“I love that, but…” He rested his gloved hand over mine. “You’re not poor anymore, angel. I know you don’t want to believe it, but I’m not going anywhere no matter what you decide about your future. And you also don’t have to stay chained to this table. Look, there’s Hunter talking to someone interesting.” He pointed among the throngs to Hunter, standing glass in hand, chatting with a handsome vamp in a sharply tailored black suit. “I know he’s a vampire. But I’ve heard he’s quite fair in how he runs his coven. And recently mated with a human.”
“Okay, I’ll have a wander round. I’ll come back soon though.”
Weaving through the crowd, I excused myself for the bumpsand nudges as I navigated the large, round tables to reach Hunter in the giant slice of packed space wrapping around the bar.
“Hey, handsome.” I lifted on tiptoes to meet Hunter’s lips halfway in a quick peck.
The almost absurdly flawless vamp smiled and gently beckoned for my hand. I found myself extending it straight away, as if my body had decided for me. My fingers felt an invisible pull toward his awaiting palm. Weird.
He kissed my hand formally, stretching into a flamboyant bow fit for a royal court. His arms knocked a few people behind him, causing grumbles and tuts. He didn’t seem to give a damn. An older Fae male, dressed immaculately in a black tweed jacket and waistcoat, glared as he sipped his jade-green drink.
“Oh, I am sorry, sir, are you the king?” the vamp asked in the poshest of mock English accents.
Blond moustache rippling like walrus whiskers, the Fae grumbled, “No, of course not, you impertinent—”
“Then what are you good for?” he said dismissively, dipping his two top fingers into the Fae’s glass and sucking them for a taste. “A gin fizz?” He pulled a yuck face. “Really?”
Puffing out his chest, the Fae harrumphed. “Well, I never—”
The vamp turned his back on the flustered Fae, focusing on me with a friendly gaze. “Very pleased to meet you. I’m Xander, and you must be the delightful Serenity.”
