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I hated the way he looked, as if he’d done something awful.
“We melded, Eli. That’sme. That hunger and restlessness, that’sme.Until you nothing satisfied me. Not in bed or in life. I could chase it away, but I was never sated.”
He watched me, and I realized that we were both rattled by the suddenness and intensity of our marriage.
“I’m sad I missed it, though,” I teased. “I do like you between my thighs . . .”
And just like that the shyness and awkwardness between us vanished. We were still us. For a moment, I wanted to remind us of that. Ignore the world. Four weeks here was only a few hours in New Orleans. Maybe we could stay?
“Geneviève? Eli?” Fergus strode into the wreckage, looking like he was late for a court ball. Ermine trimmed cloak. “Ah. Youareboth awake again.”
“You have lousy timing, Uncle Fergie.”
The king ofElphameopened his mouth, and I winced, expecting a dressing down for my impertinence. Then he started laughing, guffawing as if I’d told a raucous joke.
After a moment, he pushed debris off what was possibly the remains of a table or shelf. “You might blame Beatrice then, Geneviève. She’s been trying to breach the gates. I’m not sure how or why she’d think such a thing necessary, but I’ve been amusing myself for days with batting away her spells and hexes.”
“You’ve been . . .” I frowned.
The king gave a shrug that was feigned ease. “It passed the time more interestingly than when I was simply worrying that death had, in fact, come for the throne. If you did not wake, Geneviève, my nephew would weaken and die.”
I paused. I hadn’t considered that. Admittedly, I’d only just woken, so there wasn’t a lot of time to think, and there was a plethora of things to think about already.
“I’m glad you are not dead,” King Fergus said solemnly. “Both of you. . . and not only because I’d be forced to spend eternity rebuffing Beatrice’s attacks.”
It hit me then. Perhaps my great-times-great grandmother thought that Fergus was trying to do me in. He was her first suspect when the topic of the grant was broached.
“Did you by any chance fund the NOPD so they could hire me?” I asked.
“Why would I do that?” Fergus asked.
“Didyou?” I asked.
The king of Elphame looked truly flummoxed. “If you have need of funds, the treasury can be opened.”
“So that’s a no?” I pressed. “You aren’t behind it?”
“It is, in fact, ano.” Fergus looked at me as if I’d just asked him to do the chicken dance.
I paused, made a mental note to require the chicken dance at my wedding reception. The image of theDraugrQueen and the Faery King doing the chicken dance had me muffling laughter.
“Have you asked Beatrice?” Fergus prompted.
Eli and I exchanged a look.
“She said the same about you,” I told him.
“Impertinent chit.” Fergus scowled. “I would not harm my nephew’s wife.”
“But would you harm a witch withdraugrblood who wasn’tyethis wife?” I shook my head. “And for what it’s worth, you do realize she’s my great-gran, I hope.”
“I’d held hope that this was an . . . exaggeration, perhaps a ploy to make you seem more frightening,” Fergus admitted.
“Nope.” I popped the “p” and grinned. “And since you’re basically father of the groom, and she’s grandmother of the bride . . .”
Fergus let out a long-suffering sigh. “And you intend to have a wedding?”
“Yep.” I popped that “p,” too. “Two of them, in fact, and you, Fergie, are invited to both.”
