AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * * *
The minute the door slammed, Ashley made the call. She didn’t bother to change into more professional clothes. It wasn’t like the man hadn’t seen her naked. It also wouldn’t hurt to remind him of what he was missing while she was on this particular job.
“What is it?” Chalen Palgrave asked, his voice rough. There was an edge of impatience to his tone that never left no matter what the situation was.
He had picked up immediately. Ashley knew he’d been waiting for her call. He’d been waiting for any kind of information she could dig up on the Dellacourts’ son. She was slightly satisfied that his eyes went immediately to her breasts. She noted that he was still in his office. He rarely left it these days. Since his brother had disappeared six months before, Chalen spent all his time at work. He had to if he wanted to keep Palgrave Industries from going under.
“He’s been ordered to get married or face disinheritance.” Ashley sat forward, waiting for his approval.
It was not forthcoming. “And this is news? What could you expect after the disgraceful way he behaved this evening? His father should have disowned him right then and there. It proves Alexander Dellacourt’s poor morality that he did not. The Dellacourts have no honor. What should we expect? They’re one generation off the surface. Dirtwalkers, every one of them.”
It took everything Ashley had not to roll her eyes. She had rapidly discovered that the royals thought along different lines. They always thought about the big picture and rarely thought about how important small cracks could be. A peasant understood all about small cracks. Ashley’s whole life had been a delicate balance.
“If he’s invested in finding a wife, I think his newfound work ethic is going to get shelved. He’s been much more serious about work. He thinks he has something going in bio-med,” Ashley explained. “He can’t work too hard if he’s looking for a wife. He’ll let his guard down. Better yet, if his father really does kick him out, he’ll be vulnerable.”
“Why wouldn’t he just marry the first consort he sees? I would,” Chalen pointed out.
“You don’t know Dante the way I do. He’s furious at the thought of being put in a corner. He’s going to choose someone guaranteed to enrage his father.” She held up a small recording device. “And I’ve got the proof. How is Alexander Dellacourt going to react when he hears his son plotting to embarrass his family? The press will eat it up. He’ll get kicked to the surface, and the Dellacourts will have more to worry about than the political situation on Tir na nÓg. Dante Dellacourt will be vulnerable, and the Finn twins will lose their biggest backers. You can push the government to declare for Torin. It won’t be long before all three are dead.”
“I want the girl dead, too,” Chalen said between clenched fangs.
Ashley was a bit startled by that pronouncement. The girl in question was a consort. Meg Finn was valuable. If her husbands were dead, she would be fair game to any royal vampire without a consort. Consorts were precious. A royal even considering harming a consort was a shocking thought. She carefully schooled her features. “I’m sure that can be arranged. Are you still in contact with the king?”
Chalen nodded. “I speak with King Torin daily. I am attempting to convince him to make his plea directly to our government. The twins are accusing him of all manner of crimes. He needs to show that he is the one who turned over the tyranny of their father’s reign.”
“Do you actually believe that?”
“Of course not. He killed his own brother and would have murdered his nephews if he hadn’t proven incompetent. This is about perception, not truth. If I can move the members of the senate to Torin’s side, I can isolate the bastards responsible for my brother’s death.”
Ashley didn’t bother to point out that Kinsey Palgrave’s body had never been recovered. He had simply vanished after telling his brother he was going after a consort on the refugee plane. Chalen Palgrave had figured out the consort in question was Megan Finn. As Meg Finn’s husbands were alive and well and his brother was missing, Chalen had drawn certain conclusions. He was going to have his revenge on the Finns and the Dellacourts. He had placed his own “beloved” mistress into his enemy’s bed, Ashley thought bitterly. He would not be swayed by anything so simple as logic.
“I need a copy of that tape,” Chalen ordered. His face softened for a moment. “You’ve done well, Ash.”
She kept her eyes demurely down. “Thank you, sir. I only hope to serve you.”
She would never, ever let him know that Dante Dellacourt was ten times the lover he was. She would never let him know that she actually kind of liked the bastard. This was war, and her personal feelings would only get her in trouble.
“Keep me updated,” he said before cutting the connection.
Ashley sighed and stood. One day she would have a nice, normal job with Palgrave Industries. She would get married to someone of her own caste and live in the happy normalcy of the mid-levels. She would never go to the surface again, but she’d learned that living in the upper heights with the royals was just too dangerous for her.
She stared down at the tape that would likely cost Dante Dellacourt his lofty position. It wasn’t fair, she knew, but she downloaded it and shipped it to Chalen Palgrave’s address. She hoped it was all over soon so she could get on with her life.
Chapter Two
Dante rubbed his head as he walked into the small kitchen. He didn’t actually eat solid food. He dined on prime grade meal pills, but there was an ultramodern food preparation appliance in deference to the home’s inhabitants with fully functional digestive tracts. He glanced around, slightly relieved to see that his mother was not present. Only Cian sat at the table, munching on a piece of toast and drinking a fragrant tea. Dante poured himself a cup and thought briefly about adding just a little Scotch.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Cian said, never looking up from the book he was reading. Dante caught sight of a bunch of equations that would make his head hurt even more. “It will get back to your father that you’re drinking before noon, and you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Dante groaned a little, but his tea was alcohol free as he sat across from his cousin. “Fine. I’m in enough trouble as it is. What are you doing up so early? Shouldn’t you be screwing your wife or something?”
Cian grinned as he looked up. He didn’t even come close to taking Dante’s bait. “Meggie’s tired. She had a long night. I thought I’d let her sleep her in. You look worse for the wear, cousin.”
“Thanks,” Dante grunted.
He hadn’t slept well, but he didn’t need to be reminded by Cian. His cousin looked fresh as a daisy. Cian looked every bit the young royal. He was dressed in casual clothes, but there was no doubt the man was a king. He simply lacked his throne.
Cian formed the intellectual half of the king. He was one half of symbiotic twins, a rare condition in Fae royals. He shared a soul with his twin, Beck, who formed the warrior half of the duo. Of the two, Dante had always felt closer to Ci. Cian had been his playmate when they were young. Many summers had been spent at the White Palace playing with Cian and Bronwyn. Dante’s heart clenched at the thought of sweet, mischievous Bronwyn. She was gone forever, killed by her own uncle’s thugs.
