Eric, unflappable as always, crosses his massive arms and grins. “Look at the bright side. If we all get fired before this is over, Jonathan can find a job as a kindergarten teacher.” He looks at Jonathan. “If we behave, do we get stickers? Personally, I like the scratch and sniff ones. Just don’t buy the foil stars—those are cheap, and let’s be honest—we’re worth more than that.”
Jonathan rolls his eyes, but Gray and Rafe both relax—marginally. Not much, but a little.
“Asinine Bunny Hugger,” Gray mutters, but he laughs—once. Darkly. Still, if I were Eric, I’d consider it a win.
“Why would Trent want to find us?” I ask again, mostly to fill the silence.
Just like before, a guilty expression flits over Jonathan’s face. “We’re going to use bait.”
“Bait?” I ask, not liking where the conversation is going. I look at Gray. “What’s he talking about?”
All traces of his prior amusement leave his face. “He means you, princess.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I step back, shaking my head. “Not happening. I’m on a plane to Denver in the morning.”
An older couple steps out of the nearby casino entrance, so no one answers right away. Once they’ve passed, Rafe turns my way. “You don’t understand—you’re a part of this now. Trent will come after you, no matter if you’re with us or at home. You’ve made yourself the most desirable kind of prey.”
“What kind of prey is that?” My voice wobbles, but I tilt my chin up, pretending his words don’t terrify me.
Next time I see Finn, I’m going to kill him for throwing me into this. And if I could, I’d bring him back just to kill him again. Sadly, necromancy is a thing of games and movies. And I don’t think I have it in me to commit a murder. Maybe I’ll just zap him a few times. I’m pretty good at that.
Rafe meets my eyes. “The kind who fights back.”
“You mean the kind who runs,” I spit out, still mad at myself.
Eric looks at me, a rotten grin stretching over his handsome face. “What exactly do you think we expected you to do? Drag his body back to the suite? Stand with him, Taser in hand, until a human cop showed up and arrested you?”
His words help, but only a little. I should have done something.
Jonathan grins. “Can we all just take a moment and picture Madeline in her heels and mini skirt, dragging unconscious Trent through the street?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Gray says.
“What?” Laughing, Jonathan holds up his hands in surrender. “Come on. It’s a sexy image.”
Ignoring him, I cross my arms. “How exactly are you going to use me as bait?”
“We’re not,” Gray says before anyone can answer. “We’ll figure something else out.”
Rafe snorts. “Chivalrous as ever.”
Before the two can get into it, Eric clasps my shoulder and guides me toward the resort. “Enough. We can’t figure anything out while standing here. Back to the suite.”
His tone is surprisingly authoritative, and when the Viking god speaks, you don’t have much choice but to listen. I limp several steps before Jonathan stops in front of me and bends his knees, giving me access to his back. “Hop on.”
“You have to be kidding.”
He laughs. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Jonathan,” Gray warns, but Jonathan rolls his eyes.
“Get off it,” he says to his boss. “She’s hurt.”
Gray doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel his eyes boring into us.
I take another step forward, but the pain is excruciating. Giving in, wishing I wasn’t in a skirt, I hobble to Jonathan.
Even though the Griffon is the shortest in the group at six-foot even, there’s nothing little about him. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hop up. He grasps my thighs, holding me securely, and then he straightens.
“You okay?” I ask. “I’m not too heavy?”
I’m not exactly petite or willowy.
“Are you kidding?” he asks, incredulous. “You’re clinging to me like a spider monkey. I’m great.”
I hide a smile against his shoulder. We pass a group of college-age girls leaving one of the hotels, and they eye us, raw envy written all over their faces.
Because let’s face it—Jonathan’s crazy handsome. Letting him carry me down the street isn’t exactly a hardship.
I lean down, close to his ear. “Don’t pretend this wasn’t an excuse to get your hands on my legs.”
He laughs. “Please—that’s totally what this is. I’m happy to own it.”
But he’s only joking. I don’t get that vibe from Jonathan, no matter how he teases.
“Oh, it’s there,” Jonathan says. “But I’ve seen how it can destroy a team.”
I tense, knowing I didn’t say that out loud. “What?”
Eric walks next to us. “He’s touching you, Maddie. Skin to skin. You’ve given him direct access to your thoughts.”
“Griffons can do that?” Immediately, I struggle to get down. “Jonathan!”
He laughs and clutches me closer. “I’ll stay out of your head. Boy Scout's honor.”
“Not all Griffons,” Eric answers me, patting Jonathan’s head in the most condescending manner imaginable. “Just our little Griffon.”
Jonathan shoots him a venomous look. “Not just me,” he bites out. “There are others who can do it as well.”
I nudge Jonathan in the ribs with my knee. “There’s no way you were a Boy Scout.”
He cranes his head backward, trying to look at me. “Hmmm—good point. You probably shouldn’t trust me. Careful—don’t think anything embarrassing.”
And of course, that’s exactly what my mind tries to do. I shut it down, keeping my thoughts as blank as can be.
Rafe matches Jonathan on the other side, leaving Gray to stalk behind us. I glance at the Fox, still feeling the need to shy away from him.
Though I don’t want to, the events from earlier replay in my brain. Jonathan stiffens under me, and I realize he’s seeing them too.
I try to block them out, but they’re on a continuous loop. I see Rafe’s face with Trent’s eyes looming in front of me, his jaw slack with lust. I relive the fear, the terror, the nausea.
Jonathan swears, and Rafe comes to an abrupt stop, probably realizing I’ve turned from him and I’m leaning as far as possible toward Eric.
“Let me down,” I command.
Jonathan lowers me without hesitation, likely wanting to break the contact.
“Madeline?” Gray’s hand finds my shoulder.
But I don’t trust him either. I reach for Eric, asking him to give me a hand as I limp back to the resort. He helps without question. I half expect him to pick me up, carry me back like a doll, but he must sense I don’t want that, and I’m glad he doesn’t offer.
“I’m going to bed,” I say the minute we enter the suite. Gray tries to follow me, probably to ask why I’m suddenly being so cold toward him, but I meet his eyes. “Alone.”
He frowns and steps back, but not before he shoots Rafe a murderous look.
“Leave the door open,” Gray commands, “so we can keep an eye on you.”
I’m about to argue, but Eric catches my eye. He subtly nods, telling me it’s safer.
“Fine.” I walk into the bedroom, kick off the flats, and crawl into bed without bothering to change out of my skirt.
When I wake, I hear the guys whispering amongst themselves. Charles is curled on my pillow, softly snoring next to my head. Judging from the dim light shining through the heavy curtain, it’s morning.
I slip out of the covers, feeling like death in yesterday’s clothes, and peek out the window. The sky is heavy with thick, gray clouds. They’re low, and they churn, matching my mood. The massive lake beyond is angry, and the water slaps, white and foamy, against the shore. Even the landscape’s vibrant green pines are muted in the diffused sunlight.
“You’re awake,” Rafe says from behind
me.
I whirl around. I didn’t hear him, but that’s because Foxes are naturally quiet—a talent that comes in handy if you rob people for a living.
Rafe looks like he just showered, and his dark hair is still slightly damp. Though he’s careful to keep his expression masked, his cobalt eyes are cautious.
My pulse jumps. Seeing him here, standing not five feet from me, is too much.
“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t.”
But he doesn’t leave. “Jonathan told me what he saw.”
I edge away from the window, following the wall to the bed, hoping to make it to the door before he can cut me off.
“I’m not Trent.” He steps forward.
I hold out my hand, begging him to stay put. “I know that.”
He steps forward anyway—slow and careful. “But some part of you doesn’t because you’re terrified of me.”
“I was supposed to plan galas for the Royal Guild,” I tell him, my head growing foggy with fear. “Did you know that? I was going to create guest lists, pick out flowers, choose table settings.”
Rafe laughs softly, still edging forward. “That sounds awful.”
“No.” I shake my head, adamant. “It sounds safe.”
“Safe is highly overrated.” He’s closer now, not a yard away.
“I know what you’re doing,” I say. “It’s the whole face your fear, get back on the horse thing. But I can’t. Not yet.”
“Did you just call me a horse?” he asks lightly, still moving forward.
This is a different side of Rafe, one I haven’t seen before. It’s careful, gentle. I imagine it’s the one Nicole fell in love with long ago. And though my brain knows it’s Rafe, my body doesn’t trust it.
He stops not a foot in front of me. My legs press against the bed and the nightstand. I’m trapped, but he doesn’t touch me.
“Look at me, Madeline,” he says gently. “Open your eyes.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d clenched them shut.
Rafe’s patient, not moving, not pressing any closer. Finally, I crack them open. A tear trails down my cheek, and my whole body trembles. “Where’s Gray?”
If he were here, he wouldn’t let Rafe do this. Where did he go?
“Gray’s on a call in the hall, but Jonathan and Eric are in the other room. We’re not alone.”
I nod, staring at our feet.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” Rafe whispers. “Look at my eyes.”
Finally, I rip my gaze from the floor.
“I’m not the pixie,” he says softly. “I’ve never hurt you—I will never hurt you.”
When I don’t move, he slowly brings his hand up to my cheek and wipes away the tear with the soft caress of his knuckle. “I’m a Fox, just like you. See?”
On that last word, he sends the tiniest bit of charisma my way. It warms me, just as he intended, but it’s not overly seductive.
I relax slightly and take in several small details. Rafe smells like aftershave—expensive, subtle. Trent smelled like cigar smoke. Rafe’s eyelashes are a little thicker than Trent’s copy, and his brows are a little more arched. Rafe is aristocratic, haughty, pensive.
Trent captured none of those things. He was a generic representation.
Slowly, I relax.
“Better?” Rafe asks.
“A little.”
He nods and steps back. Then, without a word, he leaves the room. I stand here, thoroughly unsettled, and stare after him.
After a minute, Jonathan comes in, bearing a steaming cup. Instantly, I relax.
“If that’s tea, I will dump it over your head,” I warn.
He laughs and hands it to me. “It’s coffee.”
Grateful, I take a scalding gulp.
“You need to be careful,” Jonathan says quietly so the others in the living area won’t overhear.
Startled by his serious tone, I pause with the cup halfway from my lips. “Too late. I already burned myself.” But I know that’s not what he’s talking about.
He smiles but shakes his head. “You don’t want to find yourself in the middle of those two.”
Gray and Rafe.
“I don’t want either of them. I understand it now. I’m nothing but a toy they’re fighting over. The moment one wins, he’ll toss me aside, bored the game is finished.”
Expendable—that’s what Rafe said. I’m expendable.
“After this is over, I'm done,” I say. “Finn will find me a suitable apprenticeship before he’s dragged into the Dungeons for his numerous transgressions, and I will pretend this last week never happened.”
“Or you could stay on the team,” Jonathan says.
A laugh bubbles out before I can hold it back, and it’s not a very nice one. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you really enjoyed knocking that troll on his ass.” He smirks and then starts for the door. “And I really enjoyed watching you do it.”
“Oh, Jonathan,” I say, teasing him with a teeny, tiny bit of charisma. “Maybe I’ll show them both and pursue you.”
The magic makes him pause, and he groans, “Anytime you’re interested, you just let me know.”
“Interested in what?” Gray asks, walking through the main door.
“Madeline and I are talking about taking a yoga class when we get back,” Jonathan says without missing a beat. “I’m feeling a little stiff.”
“Sorry I asked,” Gray mutters. Then he knocks on the open door frame. “Can I come in?”
I want to tell him no. Instead, I shrug. “No one else asks.”
He steps inside and closes the door behind him. No one else does that either.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
It’s an immediate answer. He knows I’m not in the mood to talk to him—knows and doesn’t care.
“What happened while you were at dinner with Rafe?” he asks.
“You don’t remember?” I sit on the edge of the bed, trying to keep my tone indifferent. “I was almost kidnapped by a murderous pixie.”
“Before that. What did Rafe tell you?”
“What do you think he told me?”
And now he knows, without a doubt, that Rafe told me about Nicole. His jaw tightens, and he rubs a hand over his face.
“Why would you do that to him?” I ask quietly. Since Gray brought it up, I might as well satisfy my curiosity.
Gray’s hand drops from his face, and he shakes his head and turns away. “I don’t know.”
“Were you in love with her?” I press. “Did you want to be with her?”
He looks back, guilt shadowing his handsome face. “I cared about her very much.”
“You don’t sleep with people you only ‘care about very much!’” I hiss.
For some reason, I find the comment personally insulting. Maybe because only a day ago, I might have trusted myself with him, done something foolish. Let myself be used by the man because he’s handsome and safe and so good at making a girl feel special.
And after Finn, I so desperately want to feel special. Validated.
Foolish girl.
“She was upset,” he continues, unaware of my thoughts, trying to explain something I will never understand. “I wanted to help, but things went too far. She kissed me…I kissed her back.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” He takes a step back, rolling his head, trying to calm himself. “I don’t know. I’ve regretted it ever since.”
I look away.
After a moment, he quietly says, “A clever Fox once told me that people are selfish creatures, no matter the faction.”
Slowly, I meet his eyes.
He stares back at me, his face resigned. “I made a decision, and I didn’t think about the consequences first. Maybe I resented Rafe, wanted everything he had—the girl, the leadership position, the respect. So I stole a piece of that. And it ruined my life.”
“Rafe was the team’s leader?” I ask, startled.
; No one mentioned that little detail.
Gray nods. “Nicole, Rafe, Jonathan, and I all graduated from the Knights’ Guild Academy at the same time—we were grouped together in our last year of training. At graduation, Rafe was chosen to head up our team instead of me, even though I was trained to take the lead.”
I don’t feel sorry for him, and I know he doesn’t want me to. These are just puzzle pieces to a story I want to understand.
I pat the bed, telling him to sit with me—giving him permission. He studies me for a moment, and then he walks my way and does as I ask. The mattress dips, his body heavier than mine, and I find myself leaning toward him.
Clasping my hands in my lap, I say, “Nicole went to the Academy with you?”
She was prepared for this life—studied it. She didn’t go to finishing school to become the perfect wife to an Aparian lord.
Gray nods.
They were all friends, had known each other for years. It’s sad what a rift one bad decision can make.
“And were there any other girls on your team?” I can't quite meet his eyes. “Different girls…?”
Gray flashes me an incredulous look. “Rafe told you about Lisette too?”
“He didn’t give me a name.” And I could have honestly done without one, thank you.
“That was just a fling.” Gray shifts toward me. “She was on our team for a week, temporarily placed with us while she attended a few training sessions. We were young and stupid, and she meant absolutely nothing to me—and believe me, I meant nothing to her.”
I want to yell at him that it should mean something, that he shouldn’t just do that without any thought. But I don’t bother.
“Rafe said something else.” I look straight ahead, staring at the white wall. “He thinks Finn assigned me to the team as a distraction, knowing that you had a habit of falling for girls you work with.”
“He probably did,” Gray answers bluntly.
I whip my head his way, shocked and frankly, a little angry. Gray shrugs, completely unrepentant.
“What do you want me to say?” He leans a fraction closer, locking me in his gray-blue gaze. “That you’re not my type? Well, too bad. You are. I like everything about you, from your hair to your heels to those damn skirts you wear. Even the way you stand by your convictions.” He pauses. “Especially the way you stand by your convictions.”
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