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“But inviting demons to dinner?” Neeka shuddered. “Really, Rathbone. They’re the worst of the worst.”
Agreed. “I poisoned the warlock before I severed him. My guests died in agony, I promise you.” A boast he hadn’t shared with Lore. To safeguard her delicate sensibilities, he’d always hid the carnage of war.
Laughing, Neeka shook a fist in the air. “Brilliant, tricky boss. Tell me more.”
The crack in his chest spread. This female understood and appreciated his efforts to defeat his enemies, no matter the cost.
Or she pretended.
Rathbone stiffened, a bitter taste coating his tongue. He’d wondered if the Astra had sent her to spy. What if they’d commissioned her with his distraction as well? Neeka the Unwanted was a little too perfect for him.
Better to keep her at a distance. “Come. We must go somewhere else.” Anywhere else. Out of the sun and away from the water, the temptation she presented should lessen.
Rathbone linked his fingers with hers and flashed to the royal garden—no, she stunned among the thorny roses. And she was peering up at him with wide eyes, clinging to his hand.
Forget distance. He would take her mouth and—
A growl scraped his throat. He didn’t understand the intensity and speed of his reaction to her. And what was this new, terrible sensation growing inside him? This...calm. As if everything was right, nothing missing, nothing broken. Even though so much was missing and nearly everything was broken. How was a king supposed to get anything done feeling like this? He hated it. And loved it. What did it mean?
With the question, tension returned. Ah. Excellent. His normal condition. The familiar. Exactly what he was used to experiencing every minute of every day.
He flashed the oracle to his bedroom, a location they’d utilized before. Surely he’d have no problem thinking—no again. Things were different now. He imagined Neeka splayed across his mattress, demanding he pleasure her and her alone, and he cut off a groan.
When he geared to flash to an icy tundra, she wrenched from his hold. “This is where we part, Scarlet Storm,” she said, backing away.
“We stay together, remember?” The words burst from him. “I recall hearing something about you sticking to me like glue.”
“Obviously, I meant we stay together every minute but bedtime. Now, good night, sir.” Looking anywhere but him, she pretended to tip an invisible hat, then spun, revealing the small, translucent wings that protruded from slits she’d cut in the shirt. Those adorable wings buzzed rapidly as she sped from the chamber.
Rathbone almost followed. But what would he do when he caught her?
He worked his jaw and returned to the hidden throne room. Still no sign of Lore. Could nothing go right for him today?
“Lore,” he called, being sure to gentle his tone. “Show yourself. We have much to discuss.” A minute passed. Then another. Silence reigned.
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, plopped into his throne, and drummed his fingers against the golden arms. Right back where he’d started.
Seemed he had to make a choice between A and B. Spend his evening waiting on his mate or spy on his too-sexy oracle to discern her intentions. Decisions, decisions.
Neeka sat on the floor of her palace headquarters. A spacious suite as far from Rathbone’s as possible. She’d propped a large oval mirror against the wall in front of her. Behind her, on the other side of the chamber, logs burned in the hearth, warming the air. With her legs bent at the knees, she contorted this way and that, painting her toenails. The glittery blue polish really made her feet pop.
“Is the possibility of losing my best friend’s trust worth this hassle?” she muttered in a secret language she’d invented as a child. “No. So, as soon as I’m done here, I’ll hunt her down and explain things.”
“Okay, but she’ll die in the digestive tract of a shadow monster.” Her reflection replied in the same language, and Neeka didn’t have to read her lips. Her voice filled her head.
“Fine. I’ll stand down.” Reflection was right. There were times to bare all and times to keep quiet. A premature revelation could be the death knell of Neeka’s scheme. “Even Taliyah, with her brilliant mind and cunning strategies, isn’t ready to learn the truth.”
“Exactly. Now that that’s settled, forget your dilemma and rest. You look haggard. Which means I look haggard. Which is unacceptable. I’m a total babe.”
“You’re a total pain, that’s what you are.”
“But you love me anyway.”
She sighed. “I really do.”
“So prove it and obey. Rest.”
“Sure thing. Next week. Maybe. But probably not.” Whether her companion was a long-term figment of her imagination or a living extension of her being, she didn’t know and didn’t care. They’d been bosom buddies ever since her mother’s first murder attempt.
