by Honor James
“Like a seer of your packs seeing one of your mates, describing her and then beginning to kill off everyone that could pass as that person?” She was going out on a limb to take a wild guess. She nibbled her lower lip and nodded. “I could begin to track down who it is that’s out there looking. I’m at a loss.” Which she didn’t say often, because she normally never was at a loss, he knew that much from his brother Miklos. This woman was always sure and if she wasn’t she faked her way through until she was back on solid footing.
“Who saw a seer?” he asked her, confused. This being the first he’d heard of this. “You shouldn’t poke your nose into this too far, Desmonda. They don’t take prisoners in this war, there are only body counts,” he said softly. “If you want me to, Desmonda, I can help.” But he wouldn’t push his help on her. She had to ask for it. He’d learned early on that his opinions and advice were rarely appreciated or wanted. He helped people only should they want it or if there was no other option. Once bitten, twice shy, so to speak.
“Benny saw one.” She frowned and sighed. “I know I shouldn’t poke my nose in it now, Laz, but it’s kind of late now, seeing as I seem to be the target on their plate, don’t you think? Add to it that the man I’m supposed to be with is in the crosshairs. Yeah, no backing out for me. I would like to have help, Laszlo, but you also need to let me be a part of this, because I can promise you that I will be involved. Four women have died in my place, Laz, I need to see this through. I need to see them avenged.”
Nodding slowly, he watched her. “It’s not your fault, you know,” he said quietly. “They may have been trying to ruin our chances of mating and thereby producing the next line, but just because you look like the women that were killed doesn’t make it your responsibility or fault. The fact that they are trying to kill our mates before we connect means they’re actively hunting us now. Before, they were merely watching and creeping out everyone, but this is a whole new level. Which means…” He trailed off and got to his feet to pace to the windows as he let the thought move through his head. Which meant that someone wanted the Royal line back in charge again and if they were all dead, then that plan could never come to fruition.
She seemed to know that look, as though she had seen it on herself more than once. “All right, you need to finish that last statement, Laszlo, or I am going to continue to actively hunt for those men. I know you say that I am not to blame.” She held up her hand. “Don’t start, I know you said it’s not my fault. However, it is. Those women were killed because they looked like me. I know it’s not really my fault. However, I feel responsible and I will bring justice to those that did that to them.” She began to pace away from him. “You didn’t see what they did to those women, how they were ripped to shreds. I did, and that has seriously made me not a happy person with whoever did this to them. I will have justice just so that you know but first you will tell me the rest of what you were going to say.”
Turning, he eyed her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I will, will I?” he asked and had to bury the sudden laugh that swelled at the dirty look she tossed him. “Someone’s trying to resurrect the Royal lineage. Which means reinstating me to the Throne as the eldest of the Royal line. If someone’s planning that, and I’m only guessing, since that’s where the pieces are falling, they haven’t bothered to tell me. Which may mean that either it’s real and they’re hoping the rumors pull us out or it’s a farce and they’re hoping it pulls us out for the hunters.”
“Well damn, that really throws a wrench in things.” She leaned back against a counter and crossed her arms, as though thinking through what was going on and shook her head. “So let’s say they are trying to reinstate the Royal line, is that a bad thing? I mean really?” She began pacing again as she obviously tried to work it out. “If some of them want the Royals back in line, and there is a bitch of a time right now battling for Wolves’ Rights, why not reinstall you?” She shrugged. “The wolves are having a hard time getting the human government to acknowledge them because those that are going forward to Washington for their ‘rights’ are nothing more than two bit thugs. They need a real and true leader.” Which meant him.
“So because I’m the next King by birth, I’m automatically the go-to guy?” he asked her, throwing out what normally he kept locked in his head. “Who says I’m the right one? Who says any of my brothers are? If I’m not and I abdicate, the Crown passes down the line. But who says we’re the ones that should be leading? Just because we had the luck of the draw at birth and were born to the Royals does that really make us the right people? I mean, come on.” He turned away, raking a hand through his hair. He was getting agitated and knew it. He also knew he needed to get it out no matter how much it got him worked up.
Taking a breath, he looked to her. “I could be the worst leader on the planet. I could bury my people under political bullshit and turn them back to a time before the stone ages. Hell, I could start a war, for god’s sake,” he bit out. “I could incite the people to war, packs battling packs until what, Desmonda? Who’s going to stop us? We’re stronger, faster, and we can turn your people into more of us. And even if we run out of packs to fight, what of the human cost of that war? Do you really think, even with all the technological advances your people have that you could stop us if we didn’t let you?”
Shaking his head, he shut his eyes for a moment and then suddenly sat in an armchair in the space off the kitchen. “I’m the worst fucking choice on the planet,” he murmured to himself. “I may be the one born to take the Throne, but I’m no leader. I never was and I never wanted to be, I just did my duty as my parents demanded and expected of me. I did it because I had no choice and I would have taken the Crown and Throne in the same state had they not been slaughtered. It would have been under protest, but at least I would have had a clue what to do. Now”—he laughed darkly—“I run an import-export company, we ship things all over the world, and I avoid all wolves with a vengeance. Beyond my brothers, I haven’t come into contact with another Wolf in almost two decades.”
Chapter 3
She listened to him, and as much as it galled her, he was wrong about one thing. “I let you say your piece and I would appreciate the same in turn?” she asked and took a seat opposite him. She watched him and leaned back in the chair. “Those who were born to rule have had it drilled into their heads that they are the best of the best, they have had a lifetime of learning the roles they play and still have advisors and boards that give them advice.” She crossed her legs and watched him shifting in his seat, about to speak. She shook her head and held up her finger.
“You ask if you would be the best to rule for the wolves and I need to be honest, as much as it irks me to say this to you because you are already sexier and more deadly to me than anyone else in this world.” Damn the man and his beautiful brown eyes. “You would be the best choice. Not by matter of birth, Laszlo, but because no one else is as passionate about family as you are. Hell, you were fully ready to take my head off even knowing you would have been killed because I arrested your baby brother.” She shrugged, knowing Benny wasn’t the youngest, but still. “You would be the best choice because you want to avoid social scandal, you want to avoid all-out war, and you want peace. You understand how the human world works because you have been working in it so long, you know how we think and you realize that while you could turn anyone you wanted, you shouldn’t. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should and that is something you have learned that I don’t think some of the packs have.”
He opened his mouth, about to talk again, but she shook her head. “I’m not finished. I also feel that while you think that you are not the right person for the job, that is what makes you the right person. Your people need someone strong to lead them up out of the mafia-like ways they have fallen into and teach them the ways of the world today. You are the only one strong enough to do that.” Even if it did piss her off to admit to him. “Now I’m done.”
Eyeing her,
he watched her jaw tick and the way she folded her hands, but she never let her eyes leave his, not once. “Well,” he murmured a long, long moment later. “I’m betting that hurt,” he said softly, trying to hide a smile as though he knew she’d deck him. “Now that we have all that off our chests, where does it leave us?” he asked, sounding interested in figuring out her thoughts on this. “I can put out some feelers to find out if someone’s actually looking to bring the Wolves under Royal rule again or if it’s all a ruse, but it will be several days before I hear anything. I don’t feel like hanging out my sources in the wind and making them targets as well.”
“And I can’t blame you there.” She sighed and shook her head. “And it did hurt, damn you,” she grumbled, but there wasn’t as much heat there as there should have been. “As for where that leaves us? Same place, just more circumstances. I would say put out your feelers just so that you can know what to expect and warn your brothers, they are as much in danger as you are, so I would say to keep them informed and you can do whatever it is that you want with your birthright.” But to her, it would be a shame to throw away something his parents believed in, that they had died for, throwing it away to hide away was just not a good thing in her books, but who was she?
Her blasé attitude in reference to his birthright, as she called it, seemed to intrigue him, especially since she was his mate. She had to wonder just what thoughts were ticking away behind that look he had her pinned with. There was something there, something she was missing, something he knew but was obviously waiting for her to figure out. She was smart, she’d figure it out soon enough.
“So you really think I should take the Throne if that’s what the people want?” he asked her quietly, his eyes locked on her face, as though looking for any hint of her awareness of just “why” he was asking.
She had no inkling whatsoever as to what that would mean to her, so she nodded. “Yes, Laszlo, you may irritate the hell out of me and I want to run over your brother Mik with a bulldozer, but I honestly think that your race needs you, all of you.” She shrugged. “And they need you to lead them. You are the only one strong enough, smart enough, and just enough to rule over the werewolf population, Laz, and I don’t say that easily because you really do rub me the wrong way, but I’m also not stu—” And that fast it clicked in. She went pale and had to take a seat. Here she was trying to talk him into taking a throne that would demand a Queen, and she was fated for him. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she muttered as she dropped her head in her hands and shook herself into composure. Here she was in the middle of proclaiming that she wasn’t stupid and that’s when it clicked in. Yep, she was a fucking rocket scientist.
He couldn’t help it, the chuckle just seemed to roll out, and the more she sat there looking like she could get ill over his imported rugs the more amused he became. Finally he leaned forward just enough to touch her hand and regain her attention. “Starting to rethink your original answer yet, Detective?” he asked her with a grin on his face. “Now that you’ve put two and two together and they’re actually adding up to four that is,” he teased. Despite what his brothers thought or often claimed, Laszlo did have a sense of humor, but it obviously rarely saw the light of day she realized.
“Damn you to hell and back,” she growled, but her body’s reactions were more telling. Her hand turned so her palm was up and her fingers lightly stroked his hand as she continued. “Dammit, I am not cut out to be a Queen, I am all grumbly and bitchy and so not girly that I would completely suck at the position.” She nodded. “You belong as the King, you really do Laszlo, and I didn’t change my mind on that, but dammit, I am not cut out to be a Queen, I think that you have to be wrong. Maybe you just dreamed with me to maybe kill me in my dream. Yep, that one I will believe, uh-huh, yep.” She was trying to talk herself out of it, even when she knew that she was wrong.
Shaking his head, Laszlo stared at her for a few minutes, as if wondering who she was trying to convince, him or herself. Dropping his gaze, he watched what she was doing with her hand as if he knew, eventually, she’d clue in and then, hell, if the last few minutes were anything to go by, he seemed to know she’d likely have a heart attack.
It was several long minutes before she realized her hand was stroking his. She looked at the appendage as if it were alien and then stared at him. Licking her suddenly-too-dry lips, she simply watched him with bated breath.
Moving his hand just a little more, he took hers in his and turned them over before lifting just a hair and kissing her knuckles. “I think you’d make a wonderful Queen, Desmonda,” he said quietly as he stroked her fingers lightly. “You’re strong willed, intelligent and you have a good head on your shoulders, street smarts in a way,” he quirked a smile. “You’d make a great leader,” he added, watching the movements of his thumb. “Besides”—he took a breath and looked up—“I can still abdicate if they are actually foolish enough to want the Royals to take the reins again.”
“I don’t think so, Laszlo, you were born for that role.” She squeezed his hand and sat back. “You think I would, but I wouldn’t, I’m so not meant to be a Queen, Laszlo, I am nowhere near poised and whatever else there is that needs to happen.” Her definition of a Queen was based on storybook characters, fantasy and not reality.
“Just what exactly do you think a Queen does?” he asked and then shook his head. “Don’t answer that.” Sighing, he looked at her. “Yes, some poise and grace is needed but a brain is needed even more. Someone that is cool under pressure, able to think through situations with a calmness that others won’t display. You’ve got those skills already, Desmonda.” Stroking his thumb over her fingers slowly, he squeezed her hand lightly. “But it’s your choice,” he said, letting go and sitting back in his chair. Crossing his hands over his stomach, he watched her. “You can refuse the mating at any time Desmonda, no harm no foul.”
“Trying to get rid of me already, are you?” she asked with a deceptive joking manner. “You are the one who can refuse anytime you want to, Laszlo.” She looked at him and then had to look away, god help her, he made her feel all kinds of things that she didn’t want to feel, couldn’t feel without hurting. “If you don’t want me, all you have to do is tell me. I promise that is all you need to do and I will be gone.”
“I don’t want to get rid of you, Desmonda, but it’s not my call,” he told her. “As the female and non-Wolf in the relationship, you’re actually the only one that can call it quits.” Shifting closer, he touched her arm. “But I would like to have a chance with you, Desmonda,” he said softly. He seemed to be holding back something, as though he wouldn’t tell her the rest of it, whatever it was, as if she didn’t need those burdens on top of worrying about everything else.
“We will see how you feel about that when I am in a truly pissy mood. So far you haven’t seen me in one.” She was trying to push him away, before he could push her away or hurt her. Emotionally she was far more fragile than she would ever pretend to be, she had been hurt in a way in the past that had her closing that part of herself off, forever. “For now though, finish eating and then we will figure out what to do, how to handle this issue at hand, and you can make your inquiries to see if they need you to take the throne.”
As though knowing he’d gotten as far with her as he could for the time being, he nodded and stood. “Going to come with and eat?” he asked, holding out his hand. Staring at her, he seemed to wonder about her secrets, but she knew he’d never push for them, like he had more than enough of his own.
Taking the seat at his side, she looked up and wondered just what it would be like to feel his body against hers, to feel the hard lines pressing against her, and wondered if it would be as mind-blowing as she was fantasizing it to be.
Watching her for a time as he ate, he finally seemed like he couldn’t stand the suspense a moment longer. “You know, as much as my brothers claim it’s one of my abilities, I can’t actually read minds. What’s going on in that head of yours, Desmonda?”
he asked her as he lifted his bottle of water to take a drink and gave her a curious look.
She toyed with her napkin and muttered, “Good thing you can’t read minds or I would be in serious trouble.” She turned to look at him and sighed. “Honestly, Laszlo?” she asked, and when he nodded, she folded her napkin neatly and turned. “You asked for it,” was her only warning before she said, “I was just sitting here thinking of how amazing your body is, wondering how it would feel to be with you and wondering if for just a time I could forget I’m a bitch and you’re an asshole and just feel.”
He looked stunned for a moment. “Well, if that isn’t an interesting conversational piece,” he commented. The “asshole” comment seemed to smart, but he’d been called worse in the past and she knew that he’d be called even more terrible things before his life was over. “You’re not a bitch, Desmonda,” he said in a voice that indicated he’d kill anyone that even suggested she was. “You’re determined and opinionated, but I know several people like that so I can honestly say I don’t see where you’re coming from on that one.” Ah, the art of talking around the subject, something he’d clearly never gotten out of over the years. Hell he’d probably only gotten better at it and it likely served him well in business, too.