"C'mon. It's crunchy peanut butter."
"10 %."
"It's a name brand."
"5%" I shut up and waited. He smiled a satisfied smile. "10%. You're learning. What else?"
"Nothing else for you." I pulled the bag into my lap.
"Something in the bag is upsetting you. What did you bring? A picture of Charles or Garrett to moon over?" I shook my head but stayed quiet. "Slide it over here."
"It has nothing to do with you. It's personal."
"You won't be in top form if you're thinking about it, so show me and we'll deal with it now, whatever it is."
I shrugged and did what he asked. He took one look at the envelope and spit on the floor. Ew. I looked around for Stan, but he wasn't there to clean it up. I'd have to remember not to walk on that tile. "What does this asshole want?"
"It's probably about when he wants to meet with Charlie."
"You haven't opened it?"
"No. It came right before you summoned me."
"May I?" I nodded. He opened the envelope without tearing it, then read it aloud.
Jacqueline,
My queen will allow me to spend time with our son on the fifteenth of November, ten days after Samhain. Please meet me at dawn in the clearing where I battled and defeated Aedus. Bring Charles and any paraphernalia you deem necessary along with the dog and the pixie as per our discussion.
Do not bring weapons or any additional companions. That would null our agreement and I would be forced to take Charles to court immediately.
You will allow me to touch and speak to my son without constant interruption. I will not ask to be alone with him. I will not attempt to take him away from you, unless you break the rules we've agreed on. I will not hurt Charles or you or your companions physically or mentally during this visit or any subsequent visit of this type.
Our blood agreement is binding on both sides. I will allow all four of you to leave at sunset.
I wish for this first encounter to be peaceful, as I do all the ones to follow. When Charles reaches the age of majority, he will make his own decision regarding future visits.
Until November fifteenth,
Kennet, Seelie Lord of the Court of Queen Fionna.
My entire body had tensed to the cramping-up point. I took a breath, but still couldn't speak, afraid that I might start to rant angrily or worse, sob uncontrollably. Isaiah put the paper back in the envelope and scowled at me. "When he came you should have summoned me. I could have handled the arrogant asshole and you wouldn't have found yourself in this situation."
"I did summon you, and you almost took my head off. You still say you want to punish me for it."
"You only mentioned a dream, not Kennet." He shook his head in exasperation then began to pace. "He tells you not to bring weapons. You are a weapon. Our advantage is his ignorance of what a formidable weapon you've become."
"Our advantage? You won't be there. I can't attack him. If I try, he'll take Charlie to court." I leaned forehead against my fisted hands. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone but Garrett, so I'm already in trouble."
"I forced you to give me the letter. I threatened torture. He'll understand." Isaiah read the letter once more. "It appears that your agreement is solid, meaning that all four of you are safe from his attack. However, I'm not a trusting soul. I'll teach you a few things that will come in handy, just in case he reneges."
I sighed, gazing out the enormous window behind Isaiah, lost in painful memories. The first time I'd spoken to Kennet was right before my duel with Antoine. He'd frightened me, because he'd torn through my shields so easily. Yet, I'd had no idea at the time how dangerous he really was. Now I knew, having experienced his power on a very personal level, yet I still had to serve my son up on a platter twice a year. Elbows on the table, I fisted my hands then leaned my forehead against them.
"Jacqueline," he snapped, bringing my attention back to the present. I should remember that Isaiah was a creature every bit as dangerous as Kennet. "Focus. This evening you'll work for me. Tomorrow, I'll help you with Kennet. Agreed?"
"Yes." I twisted my neck and rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen muscles tensed with worry. "Thank you."
"Did you have lunch?" I shook my head, expecting him to get angry. "Kitchen. Now." He disappeared and I followed through the lines.
Even though the letter had upset me, I still managed to eat half a plateful of some kind of pasta. I asked, "Where're your buddies? Still mad?" I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my chin against my knuckles.
"No, they've been called back to their king on a special assignment."
I played with the pasta, moving it around with my fork to form odd shapes. "So who cooked?" I looked up and he gave me a smirk. "Not you."
"The Food Channel shows I watch when I visit you come in handy."
"It's pretty good. But when did you cook it?"
"Just now." I looked at him like he was nuts. "It's called magic. You should try it sometime."
"Ha, ha, cheater. And I was gonna get you an apron like I got for Liam."
"If you ever give me such a gift I will add days to your penalty." I frowned and went back to my pasta, not wanting to think about what kind of punishment he'd dream up for me. Isaiah shook his head then conjured up a loaf of bread, cut a slice, and spread peanut butter across it. Swallowing down an enormous bite, he grinned and closed his eyes in culinary ecstasy.
When he noticed my sour expression, he said. "He won't hurt you again." I continued to fiddle with my food, not really eating. "I've decided. You'll bring me a treat from your world every month."
"What?"
"That's your punishment. It should be something I can't get here."
"Yeah, but you can conjure up anything with your magic."
"Not everything. Not something I don't know about."
"Food?"
"Sometimes but not always. If it pleases me, I'll reduce the penalty."
Suddenly the food tasted good again, so I swallowed down another yummy forkful, smiling for the first time since Isaiah read Kennet's letter. "So what's the job?"
"Are your cheetah and demon still in agreement?"
"They both want to help Charlie and they despise Kennet."
"Will they work with me?"
"I think so."
"Then tonight you'll attend a party. I'll be your escort."
I leaned forward, excited by the idea. "Who'll be there?" This was much more interesting than copying over notes.
"Political allies and enemies, including your sister."
"What? Bridgett?"
He dismissed my worried expression with a huff and a wave of his hand. "They'll never know it's you."
"Won't some of them be able to see past the glamour? You'll have to disguise my scent."
"I'm giving you the full treatment tonight. You'll look like Salina even to yourself, plus you'll smell like a werewolf. They'll never know, I promise. I want you to do a little circulating on your own, while you're there. I want accurate intelligence regarding the war or the army or anything else you feel is pertinent."
"But I can't understand your language."
"Plenty of guests will be speaking Fae or English. They like to show off. Just gravitate toward them."
"I'd rather stay away from Bridgett."
"That shouldn't be a problem. There will be many people there trying to get her attention."
My plate disappeared as I was about to take another bite. "Hey."
"We'll eat at the celebration."
"What's the occasion?"
"Bridgett has been made commander of Mother's forces."
TWENTY-ONE
Three hours later, I was not myself. Well, I was but the woman staring back at me in the mirror might have rivaled Miss USA in a beauty contest. He'd actually changed me physically this time, saying that it would be too much trouble to hold onto the illusionary glamour during the party. However, because of what Farrell had told me about needing to constantly fuel
whatever magic had been conjured, I knew the truth. Holding onto this form would probably require even more magic.
My tumbling red waves, curvaceous figure, full lips and large golden-brown eyes, made my inner feminist growl in irritation. I figured he'd dress me in a low cut slinky dress, but the outfit he'd chosen had surprised me. I was attired in a tight black tunic with black leggings and high soft leather boots. There was also the usual dagger in a sheath at my waist attached to a red leather belt.
"Turn around." Isaiah was enjoying his creation from all angles. He swept his hand over my head and crystals decorated my hair, sparkling like Christmas glitter. My lips were a luscious shade of red and my eyes were adorned with long lashes, matched with smoky shades of shadow and liner. As disguises went, it was a good one, because the mirror on the wall reflected a female who was pretty much my opposite.
I faced him with my hands on my generous hips. "I guess I'm glad I don't have to wear a short dress in a body like this, but can you be any more obvious with all these curves? I might as well have 'trophy wife' plastered to my forehead."
"Trophy date. I hate to break it to you, but marriage is not in the cards for us, Salina. Try not to get upset. Your mascara will run." He walked closer and took my hand. "You do dance, don't you?"
"Uh..."
"Fine. We'll practice." Music filled the room, sounding smooth and sexy. I liked it. He pulled me closer to his body, then started moving gracefully. Why was I not surprised that this demon could dance? I noticed that he'd shot me up at least three inches taller than my usual 5'9", making me six feet tall without shoes. Add in the heels on my boots I was much closer to his 6'6".
"You like tall females?"
"Height is status-related."
"But can't you all just be any old height you want?"
"Those of lower status would not dare change their height to be above those of a higher status demon. It's all part of the game."
"Like a pissing contest. Only up instead of out."
"Exactly," he laughed. "I've heard they're serving some very exotic dishes."
I looked down at my chest, realizing with shock that I couldn't see my feet. "I feel like the main course."
"Many there will covet you. I'll so enjoy that."
"That's why you made me so, um—not like myself? So womanly? This is what's considered attractive in the DR?"
He looked me up and down. "Pretty much everywhere, I think. There are even some seelie who would drool over you." He saw my irritation. "Jacqueline, you're the perfect build for a cheetah, but I'm sure you've noticed that many female wolves are somewhat curvier."
I thought about Aaron's mate, Cathy and Katrina, Gabe's mom. "Well, maybe. So my back story's the same?"
"You've moved up in status from personal assistant to new lover."
"Uh huh. And where am I from again?" I needed the refresher.
"You are the widow of Wren Fraunkle. I disposed of him recently because he insulted me in public. At least that's what the gossip mill believes. Afterward, I obtained all of his property including his wife, a wolf from Chicago. I actually did defeat Wren, so this works out perfectly. The closer you stick to the truth the easier it is to propagate the lie."
He spun me around slowly taking a good long look. "Attending a public affair with an unattractive female lowers one's credibility. I do have a reputation to protect." I scowled and he raised his hands in submission. "It wouldn't be safe for you to attend as yourself."
"Couldn't you have come up with a better name, at least?"
"The name is real, Salina Hernandez Fraunkle. I tortured Wren for a week to get information and when he died I took his wife and all of his possessions. She was not up to my standards, so I sent her back to her pack. I believe she's already dating again."
"You really tortured and murdered him because he insulted you?"
He huffed out an angry breath. "I told you that was the gossip. It's true Wren owed me money. but after researching his operation I discovered that he ran a slave ring. Some of his victims were children. Would you like the details?" he snarled at me.
I took a step back when I noticed his eyes glow orange with anger. "Oh, well, good. I'm glad he's dead."
"I shut down the entire ring." We'd been dancing several inches apart, nothing too personal going on. However, to annoy me, he spun me around to throw me off balance and then moved his body even closer, an evil glint in his eye.
"Uh, Isaiah. I don't think this is a good idea." He'd pressed his hand firmly against my lower back and held me there even though I tried to move away by pushing on his shoulders.
"We're going into enemy territory to get important information. I don't often attend these affairs so they will be suspicious of my motives. We must make them believe that we're lovers and not spies and that I'm there to flaunt you." He brushed a lock of hair off my face. "I'm going to kiss you now."
He wasn't asking for permission. Before I could say another word, he tilted his head and kissed me, and it wasn't one of those sweet little pecks either. It was a capital K Kiss, with sensuous lips and tongue and even teeth. At first I was in shock, but as soon as my brain started to work, I pushed him away. He moved, even though he could have held me there without much effort. I backed away as he smiled, licking his lips and tasting my lipstick.
I took a step closer and slapped him hard across the face, but he only grinned more widely as he rubbed his cheek. "Both of our lives could be at risk if we don't convince Mother's minions that we're an item. A kiss is a harmless distraction, but if done correctly, it can convince the strongest magic user of our sincerity."
"You won't be doing that again." I rubbed my hand, which was stinging from the well-deserved slap.
He moved toward me. "I will." I continued to back away until he had me up against the far wall. "When you're in the DR you work for me. You will not in any way be betraying Garrett. If he is so insecure as to think that a kiss without an emotional connection is threatening, then your relationship is not as strong as you might think. Simply imagine yourself as playing a role. You're a spy for the good guys."
"You could've warned me." I spat.
"I did."
"I didn't think you meant it."
"Obviously you were wrong." He laughed.
I sucked in another breath."So, you want me to pretend that I love you?"
"Oh no. You'll pretend that we're lovers. That we're physically attracted to each other and making good use of our free time. You understand the difference?"
Wrapping my arms around my body, I walked to the window and looked out at the oddly shaded sky and sea."I've never had that kind of relationship. There's only been Garrett. We fell in love quickly."
"It's all about satisfying the body's needs and not the soul's. What you have with Garrett is what most beings strive for. Most of us settle for the other. It will involve no more than a few kisses and caresses." I didn't turn around or answer him. His voice grew louder. "Will you play your part tonight, or shall we renegotiate our bargain?"
"I can't..."
"Did my kiss turn you on?"
"No, of course not!" I twirled to face him, horrified that he'd ask me that.
"Me either. I prefer older, more experienced females who don't-talk-back." He leaned very close. "At the party you will be on your best behavior, little wolf. Keep in mind, the information we gain will be vital to Charlie's future safety."
Well, he had me there. Mr. Master Manipulator knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted from me. I lifted my chin, sullenly determined to do whatever was necessary. "I'm in." We nodded in the usual demon way to indicate we'd reached an understanding.
Hey, I guess I could play the sexy spy as well as the next girl. Anyway, he was right. The kiss had just been a kiss. Garrett's kisses made me weak in the knees and wanting to kiss him again and again. Other than shock, Isaiah's kiss had no affect on my body at all. Most importantly, he wasn't in my mind trying to force me to want him, the way Kennet had. I shuddered, re
calling the times Kennet had raped my mind and then my body.
Seeming to read my thoughts, he lifted my chin so I'd look into his dark eyes. I was surprised to find some sadness there. "I'm not Kennet. We make it look good at the party so they aren't suspicious. Then we get as much intel as possible and we leave. Simple."
Waving a hand, he was suddenly dressed in a black tunic and pants that molded to his body beautifully, both made of expensive fabrics. His long chestnut hair fell loosely down his back except for warrior braids on the sides which were decorated with colored crystals. His feet were clad in high leather boots like mine, making me wonder if we were riding into battle instead of attending a party. Along with the jewel encrusted dagger in a sheath at his trim waist, he wore an air of intense excitement. Quite the hottie.
Closing my eyes, I gave myself a brief moment to visualize myself at home cuddling with Garrett, finding strength in his smile. When I opened them again, Isaiah was holding out his arm like a Victorian gentleman about to lead me to the ball. I rested my hand on his elbow and we dissolved into the lines.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As soon as we walked through the archway and into the foyer of the chateau, a goblin appeared, taking our capes and motioning us toward an interior double door that seemed to be made of gold. The doors swung open of their own accord and we found ourselves on a sort of stage, with the guests who'd already arrived spread out on a large dance floor below us. Several groups looked up in surprise, many of them whispering Isaiah's name. Before long, a crowd had formed.
I gave them a quick glance and then turned back to glare at my escort, whispering, "You didn't get the memo? They're all wearing burgundy or red. We're the only ones in black."
"You look spectacular. I never follow the fashion trends. I create my own." He pulled me closer and began to readjust the neck of my tunic, opening the top two buttons and pulling the collar down so a hint of the red silk lining showed, just enough to make it look like we were giving a nod to the color choice made by everyone else. This also gave them a gander at my cleavage which Isaiah seemed to enjoy.
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