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I groaned. Kelsey was either incredibly naïve or had become brilliant at torture because this whole “no privacy, anyone could come in but I couldn’t get away from them” thing was truly my version of hell. I thought about the fact that I would probably like actual Hell more than I enjoyed this fucking cheery room in fucking Faeville, Iceland.
Evangeline Donovan-Quinn leaned against the open door to my prison cell, which happened to be decorated like someone’s grandma loved them very much. I’m not joking. That sucker had quilts and crocheted shit, and absolutely none of my clothes. So I was wearing jeans that were the slightest bit too tight and an overly large concert T. I didn’t know who the Drive-By Truckers are, but someone here liked them.
Thank the dark lord there was a mirror so I could see that I look like a strung-out junkie.
One more bit of torture I wasn’t sure Kelsey meant to hand out.
“I’m fine.” I wouldn’t be here too long. One way or another I would either escape or more than likely my heart would explode and then what was left of my soul could fly happily into the darkness and serve whatever Hell Lord Myrddin wanted me to for all the rest of eternity.
I didn’t like the voice inside me that whispered this was a bad fucking life plan and I should get my shit together. The one that said this might be a chance I hadn’t expected.
I didn’t like that voice at all. Especially since it sounded a lot like Kelsey Owens.
Was that even still her name? Did one take on all of the hubs’ names when one married more than one? The queen had, but Kelsey tended to do her own thing. Maybe they took hers. It wasn’t like either of her dudes had great family lineages.
Trent’s family had helped those witches defile me. They’d been sitting around those altars in their powerful wolf forms ready to tear me to pieces if I made the horrible mistake of running.
And Gray’s father had been watching like it was a great movie he could see over and over again.
You know who hadn’t been there that night? Myrddin Emrys.
“I don’t know. You’re looking pretty ragged there.” Evan gave me a once over.
“Well, if I’m bringing down the vibe, you could break that ward and I’ll be right out of your hair, Princess,” I vowed.
Evan snorted, an oddly regal sound, but then she kind of hit all the lotteries when she was born. Her mother was a companion—as a class of women they are unbelievably attractive, and not only to vampires. Her bio dad was an actual sex god. And her bonus pops was the king. Or he had been. Yeah, Evangeline Donovan-Quinn should have had a cushy life. She was all of seventeen and should have been pampered and coddled.
Instead she stared at me with cold eyes that had already seen way too much. “I could get you out of my hair, Liv. Permanently.”
Were we about to fight? I had to admit if I could avoid the withdrawal-seizure, exploding-heart thing, I was good with that. Evan had her uncle’s archery skills. Arrow through the heart worked for me. Or a knife. I was certain she had a couple of those on her body. Bare hands could work, but then we would do that whole two-chicks-fighting thing, and that always feels uncouth to me. There’s a reason I prefer to fight with magic. Hollywood battles are carefully choreographed. In the real world, hair pulling is a choice that is made way too often.
My fingertips felt like they were vibrating, proof that the demon blood was leaving my system rapidly at this point and I was going to have so much fun with the shakes. I wouldn’t be able to hide them in a few hours, and the thought of Kelsey seeing me like this made me want to puke.
I would probably be doing a lot of that in the future, hence my willingness to die.
“You want to try me, let’s go, Princess,” I said with way more bravado than I actually possessed.
The truth of the matter was I didn’t care. I would never have admitted it, but I was tired. Tired of having a million accusations thrown my way. Casey is certainly not the first to spin a yarn about what Myrddin was doing. I was tired of being hated.
If I’d succeeded in ever taking Evan in when she was younger, she would still have been treated like the princess she was. She wouldn’t have gone on the run and eked out a crappy existence over shitty plane after shitty plane.
She would have had a place of honor in the Coven House. They all would have.
But no one was going to believe that because the fucking academics know how to propagandize. I knew it was either Henri or Hugo who came up with the ridiculous idea that Myrddin was looking for a way to close the lower planes off and let the demons run wild.
Then why does he need the Sword of Light? Why did he want Evan if not to prime it?
Fucking Kelsey. I ignored the doubts. Who the hell was I to question him? Myrddin was the one who was there for me when I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror. When everyone else told me to give it time, Myrddin showed me how to get my power back.
“I thought I would offer you a deal.” Evan stepped inside, though the door stayed open. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and came out with something that made my mouth water.
A capped syringe. It was small. There was maybe an ounce in there. Way less than I was used to, but I wanted that taste like I’d never wanted anything in my life.
And that made me feel something I loathe. Shame.
Still, I didn’t prevaricate. She was lucky I didn’t attack her for it. “What do you want?”
I tried to imagine what the princess could want with me, but in the end it didn’t matter. I probably would give it to her.
