by Amy Patrick
“You have to be kidding me,” I said to Nox as I climbed in. “Who lives like this?”
He gave me a dazzling grin as he slid into the seat beside me. “Welcome to L.A., Ryann. You’re going to like it in my world.”
Palm trees. I was getting butterflies looking at palm trees outside of the tinted windows, and we hadn’t even left the airport yet. What a country bumpkin. Glancing over at Nox, I did a double take at his expression. He’d been watching me stare out the window as we rode in silence, and he looked completely amused at my wide-eyed wonder.
“Shut up,” I said and turned back to the window, propping my head on my hand.
He laughed and started singing, “I… know a place… where the grass is really greener. Warm… wet and wild—”
I clamped my hands over my ears. “Stop. Stop it. Do not sing to me—about California or anything else.”
“Come on, Ryann. You like it.” He snickered, a rascally sound. “And you’re so much more fun when you’re a little bit glamoured.”
I sucked in a breath and snapped my attention to him before turning my head away again, face burning. So he knew what his singing did to me. Of course. I should’ve known he’d figure out the real reason I’d never gone back to see him perform after the first time in Oxford.
One song, and I’d been ready to start a fan pod for him and nominate myself as its president. His voice was… indescribable. Dangerous. The heat spread from my face to my neck as I realized why he’d hummed on the two occasions he’d kissed me. And why it had taken everything in me to resist him. I folded my arms tightly over my chest and continued staring out the window.
In my peripheral vision, Nox took out his phone and tapped the screen.
“It’s me. I’ll be coming in this afternoon. Yes. Right. Hold on.” He pressed the phone to his chest and leaned in my direction. “Would you like Aiden to drive around a bit, give you a tour of the Hollywood hotspots? See the Walk of Fame? Rodeo Drive? Mann’s?”
“No.” My voice was brittle. “We’re here to find Emmy. Nothing else.”
Grinning, Nox put the phone back to his ear. “We’ll be there within the hour. Right. Good.” He hung up and answered my unspoken question. “Notifying my staff to expect us. They’ll have some supper ready.”
Shock pulled me around to face him. “You have a staff?”
Nox’s grin widened. “Listen Ryann, I know we’re here to find Emmy, but you might as well loosen up and enjoy the fringe benefits of the situation—do some sight-seeing while you’re here, try to have some fun. We can’t exactly drive up to Vallon Foster’s mansion, ring the doorbell, and demand he turn her over. We’ll have to be a little more subtle than that. It’s going to take some time.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means he can’t suspect what we’re up to, or all Hell’s gonna break loose. No one can find out you know our secret. Which they will if you go marching up to his front gate pushing the buzzer and screaming “Emmy!” in the streets of Brentwood. It’s gonna look pretty strange if even I start asking questions or make it obvious I’m looking for her.”
“So—what then? You tell your agent you’re here, let him recruit some stupid groupies for your new fan pod, and then we all have a groupie play date? You bring your pets, he brings his?”
Nox laughed. “Something like that.”
“And how will you explain me? If you have a staff, other Elves are obviously going to find out I’m here with you.”
“True.” He paused a moment, a here-comes-the-punch-line expression on his face. “Looks like I have the first official member of my fan pod.”
Silence filled the car, expanding like an oversized helium balloon.
No doubt sensing my displeasure, Nox tried to placate me. “Only as far as everyone else knows. I mean, you’d only be pretending. All you have to do is spend a little time with me, go to a few parties, act like you don’t hate me—”
“I’m not that good of an actress.” I tried playing the hard-ass, but as I’d just confessed, I wasn’t a good actress. “Oh all right. I guess there’s no other way to do this. But don’t expect a lot of giggling and squee-ing.”
“No, of course not.” Nox tried to hold a sober expression, but an amused grin broke through as he turned his head toward his own window and checked out the view of the freeway. After a few seconds his shoulders shook with his silent laughter.
“What?” My tone revealed every ounce of my annoyance. “What?”
He finally laughed out loud. “I can’t picture it. I bet you’ve never ‘squee-ed’ once in your entire life.”
His laughter was so contagious, I had to join him. “I did. Once.” I shrugged and nodded. “Justin Beiber. I was eleven.”
“Figures.” He snorted.
“Why?”
“He’s not Elven.”
Chapter Seven
Dealbreaker
I woke to sunshine streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows, momentarily confused by the sound of the Pacific surf. Someone had come in while I was sleeping and opened the French doors between my room and the balcony.
I’d vacationed at the beach before—my family used to drive down to Destin, Florida, at least once a year and rent an oceanside hotel room. This was a whole different category of oceanside room, one of many in Nox’s house.
I’d been furious last night when Nox refused to instruct the driver to take me to a hotel. He’d insisted on my spending the night at his home. To do otherwise would raise suspicion, he said.
After dropping that bomb on me, Nox had immediately lowered the privacy window between the front and back seats of the Hummer and put his finger to his lips. “Servants talk,” he scribbled on the side of his boarding pass envelope.
I’d shoved the paper back at him and given him a dirty look, the only thing I could do, since protesting out loud would have revealed to the driver that I was neither a legitimate fan pod member nor under his glamour. The ruse had begun.
And now I was waking up in Nox’s house, in his bed. Well, not his bed—a bed that belonged to him. It was large and ridiculously luxurious, like the rest of the Spanish-styled mansion. I got up and padded across the floor toward the open doors. How could I resist the lure of that view, the blue water stretching out to forever?
The stone tile was wonderfully warm under my bare feet, and the California morning sunshine did not fail to live up to its reputation. I leaned out over the railing to check out the beach below. A lone jogger passed, disturbing a trio of seagulls who were intent on finding their breakfast. The whole scene was so peaceful, so pleasing, I had to remind myself I wasn’t happy to be here. I wasn’t here to enjoy the scenery.
But someone else apparently was. When I turned to walk back into my room, I stopped short at the sight of Nox standing in the doorway, his long arms stretched out to either side, hands propped on the frame.
“You’re awake.” He eyed my t-shirt clad figure and bare legs with a raised brow and an appreciative nod.
“Yes, and you’re in my room.”
“I brought breakfast.” Nox stepped back and made an inviting gesture with his arm.
I walked past him, pulling the hem of my sleep-tee down further over the tops of my thighs, and stopped at the small bistro table where a lavish breakfast had been set up.
“You said you had a staff for this kind of thing.”
“Yes, well, they cooked it actually. But I didn’t want to overwork them on our first day here. I thought I’d help by bringing it up. Sit down—you must be starving. I was told you didn’t eat anything last night.”
When I’d been unable to convince Nox to let me sleep elsewhere and he’d brought me here last night, I’d asked to see my room and then walked inside and shut the door, leaving him in the hallway alone. After attempting to talk to me through the door and receiving nothing but silence on my end, he finally gave up.
I’d showered in the huge, beautiful attached bathroom and go
ne right to bed, physically and mentally exhausted.
But now I was famished. Faced with the display of delicious-smelling food, my stomach reminded me of that skipped supper. I sat down at the table and picked up a fork.
“Well?” I looked up at Nox.
“What?”
“Are you going to stand there and watch me eat, because if you are, that’s pretty weird.”
“So, this is okay for you? I mean, it looks good?”
Why was he so concerned about my breakfast enjoyment? “It’s fine. It’s food. It’ll do. What is your deal?”
“I want you to be comfortable here. If this food isn’t to your liking, you can send it back and ask for something else. Whatever you want—ask for it and it’s yours.”
“You know what I want, Nox,” I growled, stabbing at the scrambled eggs on my plate. “Just get me to Emmy, and I’ll take her home and get out of your hair, the sooner the better.”
He pulled out the other chair and sat down opposite me at the table. His tone was quiet and cautious. “I told you—it’s going to take some time. And until we find her…” He took a deep breath. “…you’re going to have to live here.”
My fork clattered against the plate as I dropped it. “What?”
“As a member of my fan pod, you’ll have to live here. That’s how it’s done.”
“You mean—all those celebrities with fan pods—the members all live in their houses? At their beck and call day and night?”
Now he blushed. “Something like that. In ancient days when Elves ruled over humans, that was how it was. The Dark Elves are trying to restore the old system, I guess. I don’t know much about it—only what Alfred has told me, which isn’t much.”
“Well if you think I’m going to live here and be part of your… harem, you’re wrong.” I shoved back from the table. Leaving my full plate, I marched across the room to where I’d dropped my clothes on the floor the night before and grabbed the pile, heading for the bathroom. “And why am I just now learning about this little detail? I’ll find Emmy myself. Thanks for breakfast.” The bathroom door slammed behind me with a satisfying bang.
When I’d showered and dressed, I went downstairs, suitcase in hand, to meet the taxi I’d called.
Nox was waiting for me on the bottom step. He held my arm as I attempted to pass him. “Please don’t leave, Ryann. You need my help.” His voice was low and urgent.
Having no other choice, I stopped. With him standing one step below me, we were eye-to-eye. I didn’t like looking directly into that inhumanly beautiful hazel gaze, but I made myself do it.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I lifted my chin. “But I don’t need anything enough to trade my—”
Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, “I know that. I’d never expect you to—” He broke off with a frustrated sound. “We have to put on a good show for the staff and for Alfred—make them think I have a real fan pod and you’re a member. I would never try to take advantage of the situation.”
I pulled back and leveled an incredulous look at him. “Oh no. Not you,” I said, sarcasm dripping from the words. “It’s not like you’ve already tried to take advantage of me, is it? Like when you tried to seduce me and pretended to care about me.”
Nox’s brows pulled together in an angry slant. “I was not pretending.”
“And I wasn’t seduced,” I countered, jerking my arm away and pushing past him.
Following me to the door, he let out an exasperated breath. “Look, I know I’m not the one you want. You’ve made that very clear. But I am the one who’s here. And I do care about you—I want to help you. If you’ll let me. Please don’t leave.”
The desperation in his tone took some of the wind out of my sails, but it didn’t change the fact that being so far from home and living in his house put me in way too vulnerable a position. Glancing back to him with my hand on the door pull, I said, “You already have helped me. You got me here. Now I’ll do the rest. Thanks for the plane ticket—I’m going to pay you back—I’ll send the money when I get home—with Emmy. Good luck with your tour preparations.”
I opened the door and hurried toward the taxi waiting at the curb outside the gates of the estate. As it drove away, my gaze was pulled back to the mansion. Nox was standing in the front doorway, watching me go.
Turning my head, I let the view through the windshield replace the image but couldn’t block out the mental picture of his sad eyes, their blended color looking more green than brown as he’d pleaded with me not to leave him.
Chapter Eight
Fail
Vallon Foster’s house was on the Map of the Stars’ Homes after all. According to the cab driver, Vallon lived in a mansion formerly owned by one of the biggest action movie stars of the past few decades.
For a moment I wondered if that guy had been an Elf, too—he did look super-young for his age—but then I read he’d recently gotten divorced from his wife, and his hair hadn’t turned white. Or maybe it had and he’d died it to cover the mark. Then again, he was a Dark Elf. They were different from the Light Elves—in so many ways. Maybe they could fool around with as many people as they wanted to without consequence.
In any case, I’d found the house and hopefully found Emmy as well. All I had to do now was get inside. I paid the cabbie, adding a few dollars for a tip.
“Good luck,” he said. His tone made the encouraging remark sound more like “fat chance.”
Stepping onto the sidewalk, I surveyed the high ivy-covered walls surrounding the estate. The house must have been set far back from the road because it wasn’t even visible. There was an iron gate across the drive and beside it, an intercom box I assumed would connect me with some sort of security person. It seemed like my best bet, short of scaling the walls and possibly finding some unhappy Dobermans on the other side.
Pushing the button, I waited for a response. A quiet whirring noise caused me to turn my head to the side where a video camera panned around and then focused on me. Okay, so they could see I wasn’t an armed robber now. They could also see I wasn’t a maid or serviceperson.
Could I pretend to be one of Vallon’s stray fan pod members who’d gotten lost? Did someone keep up with them all—remember all their names and faces? Emmy had told me he had at least two hundred members in his fan pod at a time. Maybe they’d buy the “little lost sheep” act.
“Yes?” asked a feminine voice.
I leaned toward the box, angling my mouth at what looked like the receiver. “Hi. Um… I got left behind when we went… out. Can I come in?”
“State your name.”
Dang. It wasn’t going to work. They did keep some kind of records of their members. And I didn’t dare say my real name. What was the most common name I knew? “Taylor?”
There was a pause. Then the voice came back, sounding sterner this time. “All of our Taylors are accounted for. If you would like to see Mr. Foster, he has a movie premier at the end of this month and will be walking the red carpet. Check his website if you’d like to apply for his fan pod. And please do not attempt to access his personal estate again. All trespassers will be immediately apprehended and turned over to the authorities. Goodbye.” The monitor fell silent.
Well, that was super. I turned around and sat on the curb. What the heck do I think I’m doing? I’m not Veronica Mars. I didn’t know the first thing about investigating or finding missing persons… or breaking and entering. Unless I happened to catch Emmy at the movie premier, there was no way to get close to her. Not without help.
Not without Nox.
* * *
When I pushed the buzzer at Nox’s gate that night, the reception was entirely different. It immediately clicked and swung wide, and a man’s voice said, “Please come in, Miss Carroll,” through the speaker.
I had barely set foot on the driveway when the front door burst open. Nox rushed out to meet me. “Are you all right? Did something happen?” Worried eyes catalogued me from sunburned face to tired toes.
Assured of my well-being, Nox’s face relaxed. “I’m sorry you had no luck. I was afraid that’s what would happen. Based on the security they’ve provided for me here, I’m not surprised the Dark Council would have Vallon well-protected.”
Leading me into the house, he peppered me with questions. “Are you hungry? Would you like to have a meal sent to your room? Or… I was eating on the patio when you rang the buzzer—you could join me if you like.”
I was starving. And hot. And tired. Sitting out in the ocean breeze listening to the waves sounded too good to resist. “Yes. That would be nice.”
His face brightened. “Good. It’s this way.”
I followed Nox through the enormous house to a set of French doors that opened up to a gorgeous pool deck and a stone lanai running the entire width of the house. The sun had almost set, but there was still a faint light visible over the horizon, giving the ocean a glowing border that appeared to be made of smoldering coals.
As we stepped out onto the lanai, a servant was leaving, having placed another platter of food as well as a new plate and set of silverware on the table.
I darted my eyes at Nox. “Oh. So you told her…”
He nodded. “She was near the kitchen when we passed through. I told her I would have a dinner companion after all.”
“She’s Elven then?”
“Yes. Most of the staff are.”
He pulled out a chair for me and waited as I took my seat, then took his own. “I hope you like seafood. It’s all fresh-caught—there’s an assortment there for you to choose from.” Lifting the lid of the platter, he gestured to the variety of fish and shellfish his chef had prepared. There was far more there than two people could ever eat. Dark Elves apparently liked to live well.