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“It seems I’m the only fae left awake in the tower,” I say to the mother and pat her head softly.
“You are,” a deadly dark voice says from behind me.
I jump and sprint into the kitchen, all the way to the other side, stopping by the back exit. I try the door, but it’s locked, so I plaster my body against the wall between the door and the counter. Quickly, I scan the counter.
Nottuza leans against the doorjamb.
His long, straight, dark hair drapes over the front of his unbuttoned jacket. The white shirt under the uniform jacket is opened all the way to the navel.
I pick up a huge butcher knife. “Stay away from me.”
He doesn’t appear threatened. In fact, he pushes off the doorjamb and steps into the kitchen, but I make a jabbing move as if I’ll stab him if he comes closer. He stops and lifts his hands, a smirk playing on his lips. “Put the weapon down. You’ll cut yourself.”
“Oh, fuck you.” I squeeze the handle tighter.
“You did fuck me, and it was fun.”
I pull back my arm and throw the blade.
Nottuza’s speed makes it effortless for him to avoid the knife, which bounces off the stone wall and clatters to the ground.
Turning, he stares at it and then at me. “Where did you learn how to throw like that?”
“My commander taught me.”
Nottuza’s eyes narrow, and he scrunches up his nose, then picks up the knife and sets it on the large center island where the staff do most of the prep work.
“For the purpose of clarity, are we talking about the commander of the Summer fae armies?” he asks.
“We are.”
“Is he one of your lovers?”
“Maybe.” Ha! Not even close.
“If I severed his head, would that sever your relationship with him?”
“It would sever my relationship with you.”
Nottuza purses his lips. “Does that mean we still have one?”
33
NOTTUZA
The Summer princess is very beautiful when she wakes up.
Her voluptuous golden hair sticks out every which way, and seeing her without makeup and other glitz makes me feel like I’ve seen intimate parts of her, ones she won’t show publicly so people can’t hurt her. And she’s hurting now because of what I did.
My instincts claw at me.
I want to comfort her, hug her, become a blanket of safety for her, but since she’s upset, she might grab another knife and stab me in the heart. It wouldn’t kill me, but it would cause me pain and would disable me for a while.
I can’t afford such weakness at this time.
“If you’re not going to make me a vampire or say something about those notturnos downstairs and about the sleeping fae upstairs, and the staff here and elsewhere in the tower, then I don’t know why you’re here.” She pulls back her shoulders. “I’m not afraid of you, vampire. If you end me to cover up whatever you’re planning, I’ll hunt you in the shadows. Mark my words, I’ll curse your cause and nip at you every chance I get.”
Her vengeful anger turns me on. I step farther into the kitchen, take off my jacket, and fold it neatly over the back of the chair at the end of the island. My pressed white shirt is wrinkled, but I don’t want to make it dirty, so I look around the kitchen until I find a chef. He’s over by the sink, sleeping on his feet. I put on his apron and one of those tall white hats.
