by Kate Serine
“They got out a little over a year ago,” Nicky said. “Perfect timing.”
“Just don’t tell ’em you know me,” Seth warned. “If they find out they’ll send you packing.”
“What the hell happened between you guys anyway?” Lavender asked. “You never have told me.”
“Let’s just say when I was first a wolf, I sometimes had a tough time determining what was off-limits for dinner,” Seth replied. “It was all a big misunderstanding.”
“You almost ate them,” I pointed out with a grin. “I think that goes beyond a misunderstanding.”
Seth gave me a sardonic look. “Have you ever met the Piggs?”
I was about to ask what he meant when the study door opened and the king entered, his manner more aloof than it had been before. “I apologize for the disruption during your dinner,” he said to all of us, pointedly waiting for J.G. to vacate his chair behind the desk. His future son-in-law stared at him for a moment, but then finally caught on and hopped up and turned the chair toward the king.
“Sorry there, Pops,” he muttered. “Plant it right there.”
The king heaved a sigh, then shook his head a little before assuming his seat and peering out at all of us, waiting for us to begin. When none of us immediately spoke up, he inclined his head toward Nicky. “My apologies to you in particular, Mr. Blue. You are a guest in my home, a friend now by virtue of your assistance. Please, tell me what it is you wish to know.”
Nicky scooted to the edge of his chair, his demeanor suddenly changing. He was in business mode now, ready to parley with an associate. He offered the king a smile that was charming, but there was something dark about the edges—something deadly and determined. This must be the Nicky that people who knew and feared him had always seen. It certainly wasn’t the tender, caring, loving man I knew so intimately now.
“Gideon told us that you have a little problem with someone selling D on the black market and trying to implicate your operation,” Nicky said.
The king inclined his head. “This is true. Gideon was sent to gather intelligence to help identify those involved. When I am satisfied that I have the facts, I shall handle it. And swiftly.” The king smiled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. I had a pretty good idea of just how he planned to go about taking care of the dealers who were interfering with his business.
“I have no doubt of that,” Nicky told him. “I respect you and honor your decision. But may I ask, as a friend, why you refuse to let the FMA get involved?”
The king shifted, casting a meaningful glance my way.
“I quit this morning,” I told him. “You can speak freely, sir.”
He clasped his hands over his stomach, then looked at his younger daughter and her fiancé. “Poppy, why don’t you take Mr. Squiggington to the gardens? I imagine he could use some fresh air. Good for the constitution.”
Poppy obediently hopped to her feet and dragged J.G. from the room, shutting the door behind her. As soon as she was gone the king sighed. “Poppy’s a good girl,” he mused. “I hope that little shit will make her happy. He seems to love her, so I grant him leeway. But he is still a bit off from his experiences. I would rather not have him present when we discuss these things. I hope I do not offend.”
Nicky shook his head. “That’s your prerogative, sir. I defer to you in that matter.”
The king chuckled. “I like you, Mr. Blue. You understand respect and honor. This is why I will tell you what I know.”
Nicky spread his hands in gratitude. “Thank you, sir. I hope I prove to be worthy of your praise.”
The king rose from his chair and strolled to a liquor cabinet. “Do any of you care for a drink?” Not waiting for an answer, he poured out four snifters of brandy and handed one to Seth, Nicky, and me, then filled a tumbler with sparkling water and gave it to Lavender, pausing to press an adoring kiss to the top of her head before lifting his own glass. “Sláinte chuig na fír, agus go mairfidh na mná go deo.”
I glanced to Lavender for the translation and saw her grinning fondly at her father. “Health to the men, and may the women live forever.”
He patted her cheek. “Lovely girl.” His expression then grew solemn again as he perched casually on the corner of his desk. “I have no doubt that the Agency is behind the black market distribution of fairy dust. I know that Tim Halloran was in discussions with them but, although he was an annoyance, he was hardly a threat to my operations. The Agency, on the other hand, is a formidable force. That being said, I refuse to go to the FMA about it because I believe the organization has been compromised.”
I blinked at him in amazement. “Compromised? What do you mean? Someone in the FMA is dirty?”
“Exactly so.”
“Do you know who it is?” Seth asked.
“Not yet,” the king admitted. “That is what Gideon was trying to uncover. We know that those Tales who were installed with the Agency to be liaisons are working against their own brethren—”
I immediately thought of Freddy the Ferret and his pals and had no doubt of the king’s assessment.
“—but I believe there are those within the FMA who are also working against us.”
“Why do you think so, sir?” I asked.
He took a sip of his brandy and hissed a little as it went down. “Al Addin has been very cozy with the Agency in recent years. There once was a time when he would stand up for us, fight for our right to exist without the Ordinaries’ interference, but he is being worn down, persuaded that it is not to our detriment to go along with the Agency, grant them access to us, to our secrets.”
“You can’t possibly believe that Al has betrayed us, can you?” I demanded, my voice edged with anger. For all Al’s faults, I couldn’t believe that he would sell out like that.
“Perhaps the Agency is simply putting a great deal of pressure on him, Dad,” Lavender piped up. “I mean, the times have changed considerably since we came over. It’s growing increasingly difficult for us to stay hidden. The revolution that was brewing in The Refuge was hardly an isolated incident. As you know, there are other groups pushing for the same thing. Perhaps Al is just doing what he has to do to keep us all as safe as possible.”
“I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because of the kindness he has shown you over the years, petal,” the king admitted. “But the FMA has a list of all of my distribution centers, my distribution schedule, the transportation routes. They are operated secretly for good reason, but I am required to report all of my activities to the FMA in order to be in compliance with our laws. My transports have been robbed on several occasions in the last two years and I am certain it is this product that is being distributed to the Ordinaries.”
“But why would the Agency want to do that?” I asked. “What do they have to gain?”
“Fairy dust is used as therapy for the most volatile Tales,” the king reminded me. “If my business had to be shut down because I was no longer in compliance, we would have significant problems.”
I thought about the repercussions of a sudden shortage of fairy dust. Those who took it for “medicinal” reasons would be in a panic from the withdrawal symptoms and would search out any black market source they could find—and who knows what kind of deals they’d make, what they would give up, what secrets they would divulge to the Agency to get it. And I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if fairy dust was no longer available to the population in the Asylum.
“Shit,” I muttered. “What the hell are they trying to do?”
“Break us down,” Seth said, “destroy our unity. The only reason we’ve made it this long without discovery is because we’ve stuck
together—even when we were fighting among ourselves.”
Nicky nodded. “Get us fighting over the right thing, and they can swoop in and start recruiting.”
“And gathering specimens,” I breathed.
The king’s brows lifted at this. “Specimens?”
I glanced aro
und at everyone before my gaze settled on Nicky. “They’ve been trying to get Al to hand over one of us for a long time. They want to study us, dissect us, figure out what we’re made of, how we’re different. Al has always refused. One of them—Agent Spalding—got to me a little over a year ago and . . .” I paused, wondering what I should divulge. “Well, he tricked me into trusting him so he could try to get information about my ability to read the dead. He didn’t find out what he wanted, though, and I caught a glimpse of what he was up to, so he finally gave up trying. But they almost nabbed Nicky this morning. Al took him into protective custody to keep him safe.”
“Protective custody?” Nicky repeated. “Is that what Al called it?”
I averted my gaze and looked at the king instead. “With so much at stake, with so many of us at risk of being taken and abused by the Agency, I’m sure you can understand why it’s so important to work together and not allow them to plant the seeds of distrust.”
The king narrowed his eyes at me, regarding me for a long moment. “I will reserve judgment at present,” he finally announced. “But I will be watching, madam. And if I sense any threat to my family or my business interests, I guarantee that I will deal with it swiftly.”
And without mercy, I imagined.
I gave him a terse nod. “Of course. That’s all anyone can ask.”
When we all said our good-byes to Lavender’s father, I was surprised to see that the king seemed genuinely disappointed that we were leaving. He hugged Lavender and brushed a kiss to my fingertips with a very gentlemanly bow before shaking hands with Seth and Nicky. But his final words were for Nicky.
“Be careful, Mr. Blue,” he said, his blue eyes pegging Nicky with a look of warning. “I do not generally enter into a deadly game until I am sure I know the situation well and am assured of victory. And there are many unknowns in this instance.”
Chapter Sixteen
Lavender finished tying the small braid of hair around my wrist and sighed. “There you go, sweetie. That should help protect you when you’re out and about, make you a little less vulnerable.”
I nodded and looked down at the talisman she had imbued with her magic and friendship to try to keep me safe. “Thanks, Lav.” I looked up and frowned at the gap in her purple locks. “Sorry about your hair.”
She shrugged with a grin. “It’ll grow back.” She snapped her fingers and hair quickly sprouted, growing longer until the new lock was even with the rest. “See?”
“So, will this keep away the dreams, too?” I asked Lavender.
She worked her mouth a little in thought. “No, probably not. Not much I can do about invasions of that variety. Your defenses are down when you sleep, so it’s easy for Dracula to come in, magic talisman or not. Just keep Nicky close. That’ll help.”
“What about ghosts?” I asked. “What do I do if Amanda comes back?”
Lavender’s eyes narrowed. “Ah, yes, Amanda. Freaking ghosts—they’re a pain in the ass. Do you have any sage handy?”
I glanced at Nicky, who shrugged and shook his head. “Hell if I know.”
“Okay, well, I know one spell that might keep anything from physically crossing your threshold,” Lavender said, nodding. She grabbed the edges of her shirt and pulled it over her head, then started shimmying out of her skirt before Seth rushed forward to block her from Nicky’s wide eyes.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Seth cried. “What the hell are you doing?”
She looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m going to put a protection spell around the house like I did at your cabin last fall.”
“And you have to be naked?” he whispered, jerking his head toward Nicky.
“Oh, Seth, for crying out loud,” she laughed. “Nicky doesn’t care what I look like naked.”
Seth turned around with a protective snarl, his face beginning to shift a little ominously, and Nicky threw up his hands.
“I’m turning around,” Nicky said, making good on his words. “Promise not to peek.”
“Sorry, Nicky,” Lavender said as she finished stripping off her clothes. “The full moon is coming in a couple of days and Seth gets a little more territorial than usual.”
A low, hungry growl began to vibrate deep in Seth’s chest as he took in Lavender’s gorgeous body. I didn’t know for sure, but I was guessing that ramping up his territoriality wasn’t the only effect the full moon had on him. In the next instant, Seth pretty much confirmed my theory when he gathered Lavender in his arms and kissed her savagely as he pressed her against the wall. He hefted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing even closer.
Holy shit.
“Um, Lav,” I stammered, “do you two, um, need to . . . you know . . .” Nicky started to turn around to see what was happening, but I pushed his head back so he was facing away. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Sorry, Trish,” Lavender gasped as Seth left her mouth to nip at her neck. “We might need a few minutes.”
I tore my gaze away, feeling like a total voyeur, and grabbed Nicky’s hand. “Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” he asked, starting to turn his head again.
“Do you want Seth to rip your throat out?” I hissed. “Come on!” I pulled him out of the living room and shut the double doors behind us.
“What the hell was that all about?” Nicky asked, staring at the closed doors.
“I guess it’s a werewolf thing,” I said, trying not to hear the noises of passion coming from the other room. It made me want nothing more than to drag Nicky upstairs and see if he had a little inner wolf in him, too—especially considering the sexy beast I already knew him to be—but we had work to do and I had a feeling time was running out. “Maybe now would be a good time to visit the Asylum.”
He shook his head. “Damn. Guess so.”
I smothered a smile at his dazed look. “Come on, lover,” I cooed. “The sooner we get back, the sooner we can have a little fun of our own.”
Nicky’s head bobbed in a nod. “Works for me.” He suddenly pivoted and picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder.
I laughed. “Nicky, what the hell are you doing?”
He strode toward the front door, his long strides thundering on the hardwood floor. “Just speeding things up,” he replied, yanking open the door. I laughed again as he hurried down the steps, making my upper body bob with the motion. Then he plopped me down next to the Escalade and pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Those folks at the Asylum can have one hour with you. Then you’re mine.”
I grinned and returned his kiss with a slow, sultry one of my own. “I’m yours anytime you want me, lover.”
Nicky groaned, then broke away, slipping a little on the ice and snow in his haste to get around to the other side of the SUV. He hopped in and shoved open my door from the inside, then offered me that mischievous grin that assured me he was up to no good. “What are you waiting for, doll? Tick tock.”
For all the levity we’d shared before we reached the Asylum, the moment we arrived at the entrance of the secluded estate nestled deep in a hundred acres of forest in northern Illinois, it was impossible to be lighthearted. There was a heaviness in the air that weighed down on us, growing more profound with each step.
“How the hell do people work here every day?” Nicky muttered as we climbed the stone steps. “This would depress the shit out of me.”
I shook my head, wishing we’d waited until it was daylight to visit, but there was no way I was going to bail after we’d come all that way. Besides, I had a feeling that when Dracula realized he couldn’t get into my thoughts, he wasn’t going to be very happy. And an unhappy Dracula was something I wanted to avoid.
The Asylum had existed in its current form for over a hundred years, and some of its residents had been there for that long. The FMA tried to rehabilitate those who were brought to the Asylum for treatment, but, sadly, few were as successful as J.G. seemed to be. This was hardly my first trip
to the last resort for many Tales who were deemed either too dangerous or too unstable to be left in the general population of the FMA prison, but no matter how many times I had to visit, I never got used to the ominous feeling that pervaded the building.
I shuddered when Nicky pounded a fist on the front door and I heard the knock echoing through the hallways. Sensing my uneasiness, Nicky took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
“You okay?” he whispered.
I nodded and swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’m good. I just hate this place. Too many opportunities to catch a glimpse into one of the patients’ thoughts when I’m not expecting it.”
“Are you sure you want to go inside?” he asked. “I can talk to Renfield myself.”
But before I could respond, the door swung open to reveal a very austere woman in a plain black dress, her gray hair pulled back flat against her head in a tight bun. Her face was pinched and unfriendly as she looked us over.
“It’s after hours,” she snapped. “No visitors.”
I offered the matron a smile. “I’m Trish Muffet,” I said. “I’ve visited here before on FMA business.”
“Don’t care who you are,” she said. “After hours.”
Nicky leaned against the door frame, giving her his patented smile. “You won’t let us in for just a few minutes?” he drawled. “We promise not to cause any trouble. I’d consider it a personal favor.”
The matron seemed to cave a little. “I really shouldn’t. . . .”
He bent forward a little toward her. “Hang on—it’s Mrs. Reed, isn’t it? From Jane Eyre?”
She lifted a single brow. “What of it?”
He nodded. “I thought I recognized you. A woman of your impeccable breeding and stature—how did you end up being the matron of the Asylum?”
She straightened, obviously flattered by his notice. “It seems my lot in life to be forced to look after monsters,” she told him, smoothing the front of her dress, which was a far cry from the type of attire she’d been used to in her story.