by J. L. Weil
My eyes flicked left and right to the tables surrounding ours, making sure no one was heeding us. The round iron tables closest to us were empty. Only a few elderly couples brave or stupid enough to be up at the crack of dawn were in the cafe. After the Silvermyst had been wiped from existence, as if he had never lived at all, we had packed our belongings, slipped the key under the door to the main office, and took off into the wee morning hours, the sun not yet visible. It didn’t take long for the first rays of dawn to crown the horizon, and we weren’t on the road for more than an hour before Devyn pulled over, unable to bear the silence that hung in the air.
And here we were, sitting in this quaint cafe, eating croissants, and drinking fancy coffee. “I know.” I sighed, but it didn’t make watching or being a part of what happened any easier.
Belle hid inside the opening of my bag that was seated on the chair beside mine while Devyn sat across from me, his long legs stretched out on either side of mine under the table. “You forget, Shaman, she has only lived in the mortal realm. Our ways seem brutal and rash.”
Devyn looked at Belle from the corner of his eye. “I haven’t forgotten.”
I picked at my chocolate-filled croissant. “How did you know where to find him?” I was perturbed the Shaman had left me in the middle of the night without even saying a word. He had snuck out like a thief.
“He’d been trailing us for some time on the road.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugged and picked up the white porcelain cup that looked tiny in his fingers. “There was no need to worry you. I had it under control and decided it would be an opportunity we could use to our advantage. Information can be powerful against your enemy.” He stared into the cup with an odd expression of revulsion that made amusement dance within me. The Shaman wasn’t a huge fan of our coffee drinks and didn’t understand my addiction.
“And you thought the first step to getting information would be to capture a Silvermyst?”
His sensual lips stayed in a straight line as he lifted his eyes to meet mine. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, it wasn’t for nothing. Not only did we find out what your uncles could be up to, but we also prevented the Silvermyst from carrying out its orders.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it, my finger tapping the rim of my cup. “Did you believe what he said—that my uncle means to capture me?”
“It doesn’t matter if I believe him or not. My job is to keep you safe and alive. He won’t touch you, not as long as I’m by your side.”
He hadn’t answered my question, but in a way, he did have a point. What did it matter whether they wanted to kill or capture me? Regardless, Ryker and Talin were still my enemies. “Your confidence is staggering at times.”
I was rewarded with a lopsided grin that oozed trouble.
Belle nibbled on a piece of my croissant that I shared with her, her wings tucked gently at her back. “Enough talk of death and kidnapping. Let’s play a game.”
“Really?” Devyn arched a mocking brow.
“What? It beats sitting around dwelling on your sadistic hobby of torture,” the pixie said.
Her idea wasn’t bad. Not about Devyn being sadistic, but a game might help get my mind off last night. “What do you have in mind?” I found myself asking.
Belle fluttered from her hiding spot to bury herself in the hood on my knitted sweater. “Ooo, how about kiss, marry, and kill?”
How the pixie knew of such things was beyond my understanding; it wasn’t like the Second Moon had TVs, but I became sucked into the game—the two of us rattling off celebrity names. She had quite the pop culture knowledge.
I gnawed my lip, contemplating my latest options. “You go first this time.”
“Hmm,” she pursed her lips. “I’d definitely marry Liam Hemsworth, kiss Niall Horan, and kill Devyn.”
I choked on a sip of my cooling latte.
The corners of Devyn’s lips twitched. “I didn’t realize I was an option.”
“You weren’t,” Belle replied in that sweet, singsong voice of hers. “I just couldn’t pass up the chance to kill you.”
Annoying Devyn was Belle’s absolute favorite pastime, and she did it so well. She knew all the buttons to push.
This was what my days had been reduced to: sitting in local cafes and playing useless games with Belle while Devyn sat brooding. It had become a routine.
A gentle summer breeze blew in from the ocean, carrying traces of salt, sea, and something else through the cafe patio. “Do you feel that?” Belle whispered in my ear, her soft voice edged with caution.
“What?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. I looked to Devyn, but the Shaman had already sensed what Belle had. Trouble.
His eyes took on an uncanny shade of green. “I’m getting the danger vibe.”
“Are you sure?” I scanned the cafe, seeing nothing out of sorts, but that meant little. Even with my heightened abilities, they didn’t hold a flame to Devyn’s. “I don’t feel anything.”
“We need to go. Now, Kitten,” he ground out through his teeth and shot to his feet.
The next thing I knew he was beside me, helping me up. “They found us so soon?”
“It appears so.”
“Perfect,” I mumbled, standing to my feet as Devyn flipped some money onto the little table to cover our bill.
He slipped a hand under my elbow, keeping so close to my side that his warmth seeped into my bones, into my soul, which purred in happiness.
“That’s what you get for kidnapping one of them,” Belle said smugly. She wasn’t helping.
It was a miracle that we made it to the alley without drawing any suspicious glances. Ramshackle buildings loomed on either side of us. Discarded trash lined the street, and critters scampered behind the garbage cans at our approach. Our car was parked at the end of the alleyway. All we had to do was make it another two blocks and we’d be able to put some much needed distance between us and the fae hunter.
The Shaman moved with a lethal grace and surety that was obviously not of this world. A few feet in front of me, his sharp eyes scanned the alley as if he was the hunter, not the prey. His head angled to the side, his hair glistening like black silk.
He spun to face me as something sharp pressed into my side, followed by a female voice whispering in my ear, close enough to be a lover. “Going somewhere, Princess?”
I froze at the steely words and the warm body at my back, my eyes tethered to Devyn’s. Fear spiked within me.
Should I shift?
Summon flames?
A storm?
I went through the list of my abilities and options. It was clear this woman knew who I was, so she was undoubtedly fae.
The pine green eyes staring into mine glowed with the promise of violence and death. From Devyn’s back, two swords appeared, and he unsheathed them both in one fluid movement. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned her, those eerie eyes shifting to just over my shoulder.
My captor kept to the shadows, taking me back a step or two with her, her shoulders hitting the brick building beside us. “Devyn St. Cyr. Fancy meeting you here. You always did prefer the back ways.” A hint of familiarity lined her greeting along with amusement. No traces of the fear that his name usually produced in fae.
Was that a good or bad thing?
Devyn stalked closer, his eyes never wavering from the figure holding me hostage. “Not all of us seek the spotlight, Imogen.”
“You know her?” I hissed between my teeth.
“Hush, Princess,” she snapped in my ear, digging the tip of the blade farther into me, piercing the fabric of my shirt to press steel against my flesh.
A muscle thrummed along Devyn’s jaw at the spike of tension in the air. “I do. She was one of your grandfather’s personal guards.”
The knife at my side should have probably told me to keep my mouth shut, but the next question flew out of my lips before my brain could tell my mouth to shut up.
“She’s a Shaman?”
The woman snorted. “Hasn’t anyone ever taught you not to insult someone holding a weapon?”
A low rumble came deep from my throat—my Kitsune issuing a warning of her own. Tingles radiated under my skin, and my eyes shifted into their animal form, heightening my senses, but I shoved down the shift nagging at me. “I kind of missed out on taking fae etiquette in school, but I am fluent in sarcasm.”
I swore Devyn’s lips twitched, but he shook his head ever so slightly. “Let her go, Imogen, or you’ll see just how fast I can spill your guts on the ground.”
Imogen’s hand remained firm and steady, no sign that she planned to surrender. My knees, however, threatened to buckle. “I’m not here to fight,” she replied, and my shoulders sagged with relief. To prove she was good on her word, Imogen released the dagger pressed into the soft flesh above my hip, and Devyn’s hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. He yanked me to his side, putting his body a fraction in front of mine. A clear message to Imogen. She’d have to go through him to get close to me a second time.
My eyes fixated on the woman who had worked for my grandfather. She was tall and slender, her face hidden by a black hood. “So wait, are you here to kill me or not?” I asked.
Imogen took a step forward, and a streak of sunlight illuminated a pretty, tanned face under the hood. “Straight to the point. I like her.” Her sparkling gold eyes swept over me like a lion prowling the woods at night.
I was so confused, which honestly wasn’t something new.
“How did you find us?” Devyn demanded, his cool mask never so much as flinching.
Imogen crossed her arms, the dagger still clutched in her right hand. “I’ve been tracking you for weeks now. By the time I found your scent in some small town called Seaside Heights, you were gone. Hunting you down has been a real pain in my ass.”
A sharp inhale breezed through my lungs. Seaside Heights was my home. I hadn’t thought faes would search for me there now that I was gone, but they had to start somewhere, and my scent was no doubt the strongest in the city I grew up in. I had foolhardily believed leaving would steer the danger away from my home.
Devyn’s smile was razor-sharp, nothing friendly about it. “I do my best.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip.
Imogen turned her feline-like eyes to me, assessing and calculating before dismissing me and focusing back on Devyn. “How many have come?”
Again, he had the cool, unyielding voice of a warrior. “Why would I tell you? Why should I trust you? Not even two minutes ago, you had your dagger shoved into Karina’s side.”
A sweet smile curled her lips, disguising the hostility that lay underneath. “I was only trying to get your attention. Nothing but a bit of fun. You do remember how to have fun, don’t you, Devyn?”
The insinuation and the gleam in her eyes made my hackles rise up. How well did my Shaman know Imogen? Devyn wasn’t the only one defending what was his. I was on the verge of shifting and testing Imogen’s battle skills against my own powers. The only thing stopping me was self-doubt. “Do all faes have such a warped sense of fun?” I snapped.
“Yes,” three voices answered.
Imogen’s laser-focused eyes shifted to Belle for the first time as she realized we had a travel companion, but she didn’t seem all that impressed with what she saw. “What’s with the pixie?” she asked with a tip of her head toward Belle on Devyn’s shoulder.
“Don’t ask,” he muttered, rolling both his arms and upsetting the pixie, forcing her to take flight. She fluttered to my side. “As touching as this reunion has been, what is it you came all this way to seek out if not to kill Karina as you claim?”
“You’re as charming as ever. Glad to see not even a pretty girl can change your sunny disposition.” Imogen returned her dagger to a hidden sleeve inside her black cloak. “I’m here under the king’s orders.”
Devyn gave a short laugh. “Funny, seeing as the king is dead.”
Imogen’s gaze flickered—a quick flash of sadness or regret, perhaps both. But she barricaded the emotions behind a wall of ice. It seemed faes were experts at shoving aside their emotions. “I received the orders before he died.”
The ground rocked underneath me. There was only one explanation. The king had known he was going to die and set things in motion.
“He knew months before falling ill that his end was near and Katsura was in trouble.” Imogen confirmed what I’d already pieced together. She pinned Belle with a glare. “If I recall correctly, you were there.”
Belle didn’t so much as bat a wing. “The king consulted me often about his decisions regarding ruling his kingdom and the future.”
I flicked my gaze to my shoulder where the pixie was perched. “What in the actual hell? Why have you never mentioned you knew my grandfather?”
She shrugged. “You never asked.”
“Son of a bitch,” Devyn swore after a moment of silence. “How did I not see it?”
“Because, Shaman, seeing is my job, not yours,” Belle replied.
I’d deal with my feelings about Belle keeping secrets later. First Imogen. “Why did my grandfather send you? He had to have known Devyn would find me.”
Imogen checked the alley in front of us as if to make sure it was safe to speak. “He wanted to ensure you were educated and given a choice.”
“A choice?” Devyn echoed, not hiding his surprise.
Imogen’s expression softened to tentative sympathy. “He didn’t want to make the same mistakes as he had in the past.”
“With my mother,” I supplied, connecting the dots based off what Mom had told me of her past.
Imogen nodded. “It was the biggest regret of his life, and he lived with the remorse daily. He never forgave himself for driving your mother from her home, from Katsura. He was never the same after your mother left. You should have been raised where you belong, not here in the mortal realm. You belong in Katsura.”
I reached for the soul charm around my neck—the stirrings of the shift prickling my skin at the conviction in her words. Something about Imogen’s voice or her presence called to that other side of me.
“You’ve come to take her home I take it,” Devyn said before I could speak.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation, the truth of it glimmering in her eyes.
His jaw tightened as he shifted to block more of my body with his. “Not going to happen. Not until I deem it safe.”
Imogen stepped forward, no weapon in hand, but a hunch told me she would be just as lethal without one. “Are you going to stop me from fulfilling my king’s final wish?”
Devyn didn’t flinch, anger coming off him in waves. The twin swords in his hands were steady and glowed a light green, fueled by his rage. “Absolutely, if it means putting Karina in danger.”
Imogen lifted her chin. “Good. That’s all I needed to know.”
Devyn and I looked at her with matching expressions of bewilderment. She wasn’t making any sense. “Explain,” Devyn growled.
“I needed to know you’re taking your duties seriously.”
“Another of the king’s wishes?” Devyn asked sharply.
Again, Imogen nodded. “He was very specific in what needed to be carried out after his death, including the safety of his only heir. He couldn’t be certain of your loyalties.”
“Mine?” Devyn said in outrage. “How could he ever question the value I have for her safety? It’s my sole purpose.”
Devyn took his duties very seriously, and the king’s mistrust was the highest insult for a Shaman.
“You and Karina don’t have the standard Kitsune-Shaman upbringing. You hadn’t formed the necessary bond, and the king was afraid you might not feel the same sense of loyalty since she was half mortal.”
“That makes little difference to me,” he said through his teeth, each word filled with the promise of violence.
“I see that. So the bond has snapped into place I assume?”
> Devyn’s shoulders tightened, and if he hadn’t replied, the answer still would have been clear from his body language alone. “It did. I only had to see her to feel it, and even before then, it was there. You know it happens from the time of conception. A world would not keep me from her. I was there the moment she shifted. I felt it, felt her.”
“We’ve never had a half mortal as our princess before.” She tried to explain the king’s doubts. “Who’s to say the same rules apply?” she added too quietly.
“I would give my life to protect her.”
My heart cartwheeled at his response—that sheer, unyielding desire to keep me from harm. This bond between us went so much deeper than friendship or duty.
Imogen was very perceptive and picked up on it as well, those eyes not missing a single detail as they volleyed between us. “There is no doubt of that. Tread carefully,” Imogen warned us.
She went to turn, but I stopped her. “You said I had a choice. What if I choose to never step foot in the Second Moon? What then? Will the death threats on my life stop? Will I be left alone to live my life?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say it, needed her to understand that even though the king wanted to give me a choice, there was only one path for my future.
Imogen paused and glanced sideways at me. “Do you want the truth?”
I nodded.
She blinked, anguish shining in her golden eyes. “They will never stop hunting you.”
Fear and despair wrapped tighter around my heart.
Chapter Four
Perplexed and miserable, Devyn drove us across the hilly countryside of . . . I didn’t know where. I didn’t care to know, to be frank. We hadn’t lingered in the alley after Imogen left but went straight for the car and onto the road, only stopping because my bladder demanded it.
As we crossed through city after city, the three of us contemplated what Imogen had revealed, dissected truth from lie. Not knowing the royal guard, I had nothing to offer but first impressions. Imogen didn’t seem like the sort of fae who went through all the trouble of outlandish lies to set a trap. She struck me as someone who would go straight for the kill if it was her orders—no tricks or ploys.