by Carina Cook
He shook his head, his eyes locked on hers. “They hired me to find you,” he said. “And bring you back with the wand. They said you were a dangerous criminal.”
“Do you believe them?” she asked.
“I don’t want to,” he said. “But I don’t know you.” His eyes flicked to Hex. “I have to protect my people first. You understand, don’t you?”
Her heart felt like it plummeted to the ends of her toes. If Derek and Hex didn’t believe her, who would? And how could she hope to escape when the king’s magic could find her, even here in another realm altogether? She had to face reality. Her only escape would be death. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she’d be able to end it all before Ilimitaine came to collect her.
“I understand,” she said quietly. “You have to do your job.”
CHAPTER 6
Derek should have felt great. He’d completed what had initially seemed like an unsolvable case and done so easily. It should have taken weeks to find Citrine with what he’d had to work with, if he managed to find her at all. In a city the size of Las Vegas, there were thousands of places that even a woman with violet eyes could hide. Then, when he’d run into her in what felt to him like a ridiculous coincidence, she’d readily admitted to taking the wand. She hadn’t run or lied or made excuses or any of the things he was used to. Instead, she’d returned to his office peacefully. Not resisting one bit. And she now waited in his office with the door closed while he tried to figure out what to do next.
The whole situation bothered him, and although he was trying to eliminate his emotions from the equation, it was easier said than done. He liked Citrine. He’d been attracted to her before, that was for sure, but after spending just a bit more time with her, he really liked her. It took a special kind of strength to admit that you’d done something wrong and face up to the consequences, and she’d done it with grace. Even more astounding, she’d been more worried about him than she was about herself, making sure that he knew he was doing the right thing by turning her in. That she understood and respected the decision.
If that was the case, why did he feel so terrible?
He didn’t know. All he knew was that his favorite Italian sub tasted like wood in his mouth, and he wasn’t even hungry, but eating it gave him something to do. Better yet, it gave him an excuse not to talk. Jenny had been giving him the side eye ever since he’d returned to the office with Citrine, and he knew she wanted to say something. She’d kept her tongue so far, except to ask if she should get a sub for their resident thief. But there was no way the silence would hold until the evening when Ben arrived to take charge of the stolen wand, and of Citrine with it.
When Jenny finally spoke, it wasn’t the third degree like he’d expected. He probably should have known better. She wasn’t the sort of person who belabored the point. She always seemed to know just what to say, just like she’d known how to get past all his teenaged bluster and make him listen all those years ago.
As she walked past him to throw away her lunch garbage, she stopped and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You should talk to Citrine,” she said. “That’s what bothers me the most about losing Mark. All the things I left unsaid.”
He opened his mouth to point out all of the ways the two situations were different. She and Mark had been life partners. Soul mates, if such a thing existed. Derek wasn’t sure. But they had all of that history—all of those moments—behind them. What did he and Citrine have? An encounter in an alleyway and a breakfast. They barely knew each other. Perhaps she was snowing him, and she was really a violent thief who needed to be sent back to Faerie. He didn’t think so, but how could he know?
But when he went to say those things, a little voice in the back of his head pointed out that the only way to know was to talk to Citrine just like Jenny had suggested. He shut his mouth with an audible click. Jenny was smiling as she sat back down at her desk, but she took pity on him and didn’t say anything. Based on her expression, if she did say something, he expected it would be along the lines of “neiner neiner neiner.”
He stood up and walked to his closed office door, resting his hand on the knob. Deciding to talk to her was one thing, but knowing what to say was another. He couldn’t exactly barge in there and demand that she tell him if she was lying to him or not. That kind of thing only worked in terrible detective films.
Standing here wasn’t going to help, though. He took a deep breath and turned the knob. Hopefully he’d figure out what to say once he was face to face with her. But what he saw on the other side of the door left him speechless. He stepped into his office to see Citrine, standing behind his desk with his letter opener in her hand. It was one of those plated plastic things, but shaped like a dagger. She was sawing at the inside of her wrist, a look of determination on her face.
“Citrine, no!” he exclaimed, despite the fact that he knew that not even a seasoned combatant like her could manage to commit suicide with that letter opener. But the thought that she might want to do it made his blood run cold. For the first time, he began to wonder what exactly had made her steal the wand in the first place. What had she been fleeing from that was so terrible that she’d rather die than face it again?
She dropped the letter opener with a clatter on the desk and sank down into the chair, her face a study in misery.
“You took my knife,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do!”
He crossed the room in a few long strides and fell to his knees at her feet. When he took her hands in hers, she didn’t resist. It was like all of the strength had gone out of her, and it hurt him to see it. She’d been so strong, fighting the troll in the alleyway. But now, she seemed so fragile and broken that his heart went out to her.
“Citrine, why did you steal that wand?” he asked.
But she shook her head wordlessly. Derek was fairly sure she would have answered him if she could, but her eyes brimmed with tears, and she was desperately trying not to let them fall. He pretended not to notice them. It was the kindest thing he could think of to do.
“You said things were bad for you in Faerie, and you had to get out,” he said. “Someone was hurting you.”
She nodded.
“The king? The one you stole the wand from?”
She nodded again.
“Would he be content with having the wand back? If I told him I’d fought you for it, and gotten the wand back, but you’d escaped, would he be content with that? It’s…not something I normally do, but I just don’t know. This doesn’t feel right.”
Citrine thought about it for a moment. “It probably wouldn’t work anyway,” she said, and one of the tears escaped from her eye and spilled down her cheek. She ignored it, and so did he. “He’s vindictive. He won’t be satisfied with anything but vengeance. It’s how he controls people, you see? He makes an example of those who defy him.”
“And you defied him?”
She nodded again, driven back to silence. Derek sighed heavily. The weight of the situation pressed on him. It felt like there was no right answer in all of this chaos.
“My entire existence defies his wishes,” she said. “There’s nothing you can do here, Derek. Although I think you want to, and you have no idea how much that means to me.”
“I honestly think we could keep you out of this,” he began, but she shook her head before he could go any further. “If you give it back, Citrine, you won’t be a criminal. I won’t have to turn you in.”
“You don’t understand. The king is ruthless. I escaped once before, years ago, when one of the servants didn’t quite latch the door to my cell after delivering my dinner. I didn’t make it very far. Not even off the palace grounds. But that servant was flogged. And then his brothers and sisters were flogged. And then his children. The entire family, tortured, all because of an honest mistake. It made me afraid to try again for a long time, because in a way, it was my fault. If I hadn’t tried to run, they never would have been hurt. One of the little ones
died. He took a blow over the ear, and something ruptured in his head, and he went to sleep and never woke up. All of that, because I tried to run.”
Derek sat back on his heels, stunned. Emotions whirled in his mind. If she was telling the truth, then she was the strongest woman he’d ever met, and he might be half in love with her. She’d sacrificed years of freedom for the safety of others who never realized what they owed her.
“But he doesn’t have control over you here,” he said stubbornly. “He’ll get his wand, and he might want to hurt you, but he won’t be able to find you.”
“He’ll know where you are.”
“And that’s exactly where this situation is different. That servant was weak. I’m not. I can take care of myself and protect my people. I know it goes against your nature, but I can protect you too, if you’ll let me.”
He let his eyes plead his case, unwilling to say what was on his mind. The feeling was too big for words anyway. But he wanted to fix this more than almost anything else in his life. He’d had a dream of her—of them—and he didn’t want to think of her as a victim any more than he wanted to think of her as a thief. He wanted time to explore these strange new feelings she brought up in him. Asking for time wasn’t too much, was it?
But Citrine still wouldn’t relent.
“I’ve seen your skill,” she said. “And I’m not lying when I say I admire it. But you can’t protect against his magic.”
“Magic? What does he do?”
Her expression drew in with remembered pain. He could see her lips firm as she resolutely kept control of herself and once again was struck by her strength of will. It made him pause. Of course he was confident in his skills—as a werewolf, he knew his strength exceeded what most people would dream of. But if someone as strong as her had been broken by Ben—who had to be the king in disguise—could he honestly expect to stand up to the man?
“I don’t know how to explain it. Faerie magic is built on illusion. What we create isn’t real, but it feels like it. A weak fae like me could create minor illusions. Like, I can make my blade invisible. Or make someone feel like they’re moving when they’re not. Make them dizzy. But the best illusionists like Ilimitaine? They can reach into your mind and pull out your greatest fears. They can make you experience them over and over again, and they’re so real that your body reacts as if it’s really happening. You might know the tentacle thing that’s choking the air out of you isn’t real, but you still can’t breathe, and you pass out. How can you fight that, Derek?”
He grinned at her, taking her aback. “Let me tell you a little something about werewolves. I turn into a wolf, right? But when I’m in my human form, my wolf is still there, under my skin. I can feel it. I have to stay in control regardless of my form, or the wolf will take over. It’s got its own instincts and agenda. But it’s always there. Get it?”
“Yes, but I don’t see what this has to do with anything I just said. Your wolf isn’t immune to magic, is it?”
“Not all magic, no. But its mind doesn’t work like everyone else’s. Mental magics bounce off me like water on a hot grill. The wolf can see right through it even when I can’t.”
“I don’t know…” said Citrine, sounding unsure.
“I’ll confront him,” he said finally. “Tonight. And I promise that I won’t let him hurt you. We’ll work this out.”
But the reassurance didn’t have the effect he’d hoped. Citrine went white as a sheet.
“He’s coming here tonight? The king?” she demanded, her lips as pale as a corpse’s.
“He was here last night. Sitting in the same chair you’re sitting in now.”
“Derek, you have to stay away from him,” she said urgently. “You really don’t understand how dangerous he is.”
“I’m not afraid of his magic. Is he a fighter like you too?”
She gave him an odd look. “No. He’s a faerie king. I know you think you can withstand him, but you have no idea how powerful he is. Derek, please don’t do this. He’ll kill you. He’s stronger than you realize.”
Maybe she had a point. Derek tried to imagine the faerie with the burgundy hair sentencing Citrine to death, or ordering a servant flogged for allowing her to escape. He couldn’t. “Ben” had looked so ethereal and harmless. Of course, so did Citrine, so he wasn’t going to be reckless. But he could be persuasive. The Las Vegas vampires had refused invitations to band together against supernatural threats for years, but he’d built up a business relationship with the crown prince over the past few years, and it had finally paid off. That prince was now the vampire king, and for the first time in the history of the city, the vampires and the shifters shared information and assistance. King Gregor and his ilk were spooky bastards, but Derek was still proud of his part in bringing it about.
So many people had said it was impossible, but they’d underestimated him. He could be awfully convincing when he wanted to, and fighting for Citrine’s safety was something he wanted very much. If he could strike a peace between Citrine and her king, that would be a success. But perhaps there could be more than that. A lasting peace between the fae and humans, for instance. Or at least an agreement to abide by the law. If the fae could open portals and come here, and they were as powerful as they seemed to be, they needed to follow the rules for supernaturals within city limits.
He’s supposed to come back this evening. We’ll sort this out,” said Derek resolutely. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
“I want to believe that,” she said. “But I don’t. Just please promise me you’ll be cautious. He’ll attack without hesitation.”
“It’s tough to catch me off guard. I’m trying to be optimistic here, but I’m no fool. I’m aware that this might be a fool’s errand. But I have to at least try to do the right thing. You see that, don’t you?”
She let out a breath that might have been a laugh under different circumstances. “Are you kidding? That’s all I have left. Trying to do the right thing. I just wish I knew what that was.”
“Me too.” He looked at her, and in a rare moment of transparency, he said, “I just don’t know what to make of you. I want to believe you, and I want to help, but maybe I want those things too much. I can’t seem to think straight. Who knows?” He tried to make his voice light and joking, but it didn’t quite get there. “Maybe you’ve bewitched me.”
“I would if I could,” she said sadly. “And then I’d make you leave before the king hurts you. Please don’t let yourself be hurt on my account. Or Jenny. Or Hex. They all seem like such nice people, and I’d rather go back to Faerie and know that you’re all safe than have your blood on my hands.”
“I promise it won’t come to that.”
He gave her a reassuring smile, but she didn’t look any less tense. She didn’t know what he was capable of. He hadn’t exactly been prepared when they’d fought the troll.
But he was confident that once he saw them together, he’d know what to do. If he could make peace, he would. And if one of them was lying, he would find out. He could only hope that Citrine would turn out to be the truth teller she’d seemed to be all along, and that they’d fight the king together and defeat him, and then go on with their lives. He would know for sure that she was the kind of woman he’d been waiting for, strong and worthy of his trust. He wouldn’t have to resist the almost physical pull he felt toward her.
She would see. Everything would turn out fine.
CHAPTER 7
“Psst!”
Citrine was waiting alone in Derek’s office. The reality of her situation had hit her hard, leaving her sitting dumbly at the desk. It smelled like leather and cologne, a manly, attractive smell. Under different circumstances, she could have wrapped up in that smell and taken comfort in it. But not this time. Derek was determined to save her despite her warnings, and he would probably get himself killed. She didn’t doubt his strength, but the king had ruled over Faerie for a hundred years and ruthlessly squashed any attempts to dethrone him
. Derek didn’t know what he was up against, although she appreciated his eagerness to help.
The whole situation had left her numb. Worrying about it had accomplished nothing, and her efforts to think her way out had just left her mind spinning helplessly. So it took a moment before she realized that someone was trying to get her attention from outside the cracked window.
“PPPSSST!”
Citrine blinked, looking outside with a blank expression. She’d looked out the very same window shortly after Derek had closed the door behind him, but of course he’d left her no way out. There was no convenient balcony on which to make her escape. Of course, the office was on the third floor, and with her fortitude, she could have managed the jump, but what then? Fleeing would bring down the king’s ire on Derek and Hex and Jenny. And she liked them. She wouldn’t have wished that on her worst enemy, let alone on people she wished were her friends.
So she sat and did nothing until now, when Hex appeared hanging upside down over the window, her pink hair forming a wild halo around her head. Citrine couldn’t believe it. Hex grinned, holding her finger up to her mouth in a request for silence.
The window resisted her urge to open it the rest of the way, but a firm tug dislodged it. Citrine pushed it up and put her face right up against the screen beyond.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Breaking you out of here,” responded Hex in a voice barely above a whisper. “Derek’s got an overblown sense of honor. He knows this isn’t right, but he can’t admit it. I think he’s got Daddy issues.”
“Hex, this is nice of you, but I can’t. You don’t know what’s going on. It’s too dangerous for you to be here at all, and I’m not talking about the fact that you could fall off the roof. There are dangerous people involved, and I don’t want you to get caught in the middle.”
“Dangerous people. You mean the king? Pfft.”
Hex waved a dismissive hand, swinging back and forth in midair. Citrine couldn’t decide what alarmed her more—the fact that Hex could fall on her head at any moment, or the fact that she was severely underestimating the king and his penchant for vengeance.