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Or Jeremiah’s peace of mind.
“You’re the boss—”
“Which is why you should do what I say and get your ass over here.”
“And the king and queen want the most powerful person on the team protecting their son. That’s you and your hellfire, Sunshine. We’ll get a break soon, and then you’ll be able to come back home, no worse for wear.”
Unless his errant hormones got him obliterated by the Siren queen.
Clearing his throat, Jeremiah rubbed at his eyes and paced his bedroom, one ear tuned into Remi’s bedroom, but it was still too early to expect the prince to grace anyone with his presence. Without the twins there to beg him to play with them, he went to bed and woke up later and later.
And despite Jeremiah wanting to shove his own foot up his ass for what had happened by that damn fountain, it had at least had the side effect of keeping Remi from trying to sneak out again.
Though the way the prince avoided his eyes and kept even more to himself was making Jeremiah’s chest tight and his muscles ache from holding back from comforting him.
He was pissed at himself for letting things get as far as they had last week, and he hated that he’d hurt Remi’s feelings, but he couldn’t let anything like it happen again. It just couldn’t happen.
Remi’s safety was more important than his dick.
And his Hellhound could just fucking chill already and stop clawing to get out.
“Still no clear suspect on who tipped them off about our trip to the beach?” he asked, and he could practically hear Knight’s ass unclench at the change of subject.
“No. We’ve checked all known numbers and any devices within the palace grounds capable of sending so much as a smoke signal. Nothing.”
Jeremiah planted his hand on his hip and stared at the rug his bed sat on, not seeing the colors or pattern. They were missing something. They had to be. That trip hadn’t been planned, so it wasn’t like someone could have accidentally let it slip in the days leading up to it. It had been spontaneous, and only those guards who had gone with them had known where they were going.
One of them had to have had leaked the information somehow.
“You’re sure the place isn’t bugged?”
“Swept the whole palace twice,” Knight reminded him, the Vampire sounding less and less patient, but Jeremiah didn’t give a shit.
“Do it again.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a headache he’d had building for a week, ever since he’d seen a dripping wet Remi practically begging to be kissed. “Then get the queen’s permission to search the guards’ and servants’ private quarters and homes. If someone has an unregistered phone, I want to know. Hell, if anyone has a fucking typewriter, take it.”
“Will do. Anything else?”
Come and relieve me, you dick. “No. Keep me updated.”
“Yessir.”
Jeremiah shoved his phone away a second before someone knocked at the door of his borrowed bedroom. Frowning, he strode over and tugged it open, surprised to find the queen’s personal assistant on the other side. The sun was barely up, the day just beginning, yet she looked like she’d been at it for hours.
“Her Majesty would like to see you.”
Jeremiah had a bad feeling his shit day was about to get a hell of a lot worse.
* * *
“This is a terrible idea,” he said for the third time, but he kept the complaint under his breath, knowing the queen wasn’t going to listen any more than she had back at the palace.
A fucking walkabout. What was she thinking?
“My people need to see me and know we aren’t afraid. If we act like everything is fine, they’ll remain calm.”
Jeremiah lifted his lip in a silent snarl. He hated having his damn hands tied by a client, and the queen was one of the worst he’d ever had to deal with, used to being able to do whatever the hell she wanted and having everyone bow down to her wishes. There was such a fine line between protesting and being insolent, and he was getting tired as shit of having to walk that tightrope.
Diplomatic, he was not.
