At that her mouth curled up into a lopsided and very wicked grin. “You should come with a dosage limit just so I remember to take too much.”
“You mean not to take too much.”
“I meant what I said.”
Faran’s whole body eased. It was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “Okay.”
“But here’s the thing.” She sat back with the heel of her hand pressed against her forehead. “I completely responded to your wolf.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“It’s not. Or shouldn’t be. But I liked it.” She covered her face. “I’m not saying this right.”
But Faran knew all about a person’s shadow side. “You shocked yourself.”
She pulled her hands away, almost panting. “I was totally into it. What does that make me?”
He took her hand and kissed her palm, reveling in the taste and scent of her. “It makes me very lucky.”
“I stabbed someone yesterday. In self-defense, but still. What’s going on? It’s like I’m—I don’t know, not acting like me.”
“Now I’m confused.” He released her hand, his stomach going tight with nerves.
“Oh, please. I’m not equating having sex with you with stalker psychos.”
“Thanks for that.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, clearly struggling to find the right words.
“Are you okay with what you’ve done?” he asked quietly.
“I’m pushing down every protective wall I’ve ever built around myself and it’s scary.”
He heard the bald honesty in her words and was grateful. He could work with honesty. “Think of it this way, Lex. You’ve spent a long time healing. We connected before, but I don’t think either of us was ready. I had an idealized view of what would happen when I found someone to love, and I didn’t realize it wasn’t going to happen according to the script in my head.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand. “Let me finish. We’re both more experienced now. I’ve rattled around the world, seeing what matters and what really doesn’t. You’ve come out from behind your walls. You’re fighting to be who you were supposed to be when you first landed on this planet, before your brother’s horror show.”
Faran took a deep breath. He really hated it when people gave him advice, so he hoped his little speech didn’t suck. “You took the skewer and turned it into a weapon. You met my wolf head-on and made his head spin. And you’re using your photos to help people you care about with the investigation. You’re doing okay.”
Lexie swallowed. “You make it sound so natural.”
“It is. So is a touch of self-doubt. A little bit makes us check to make sure we’re not fooling ourselves.”
She leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “Since when did you get so wise?”
He lifted Lexie’s chin and kissed her long and slow and full of everything he wanted for her, from her, for them both. “Hey, I’m brilliant until it comes to my own stuff. That’s when I’ll need you.”
* * *
Having someone like Faran in her corner meant the world to Lexie. Having that person tell her she was on the right path rated an entire star system.
Accordingly, Lexie felt far steadier than she had before they’d talked. Filled with fresh determination, she tapped the computer back to life to get some work done while Faran showered and dressed. The screen filled with an image from the reception. It wasn’t a great one, just a general reference shot she’d taken to show the mass of glittering humanity who’d shown up to celebrate. Sometimes it helped to remember who had been sitting with whom.
Her gaze caught on a pair of men talking in the background. She zoomed in on them, folding her legs to boost the screen to a better angle. One figure was Prince Leo, champagne flute in hand, the other was Gillon. They were chatting, heads bent together. A conspiratorial pose if ever she saw one, but a prince talking to a security guard in a public place was hardly a hanging offense.
Except—Gillon’s eyes were reflecting like a dog’s. She’d passed over it before, not picking out the odd effect among the glitter of jewels and crystal chandeliers. It was creepy enough to raise Lexie’s skin to gooseflesh. She began flipping through the crowd shots, looking for that one tiny detail. In every one, there were a few people with glowing yellow eyes. She clicked on the folder of the banquet photos. She saw the same inhuman faces, and this time one of them was serving the royal table. There was only one possible conclusion: those were the fetches.
That’s why they wanted the photos. She’d heard stories about supernatural creatures that couldn’t be photographed. The truth was, they showed up all too well. There were details that couldn’t be hidden on film. I wish I’d taken some photos during the showdown at the reception. It would have been interesting to see how many of the Vidonese guards weren’t human.
The bathroom door opened releasing a cloud of steam and a soapy smell. Faran’s feet padded from the tiles to the carpet. He wore nothing but a towel, his wet hair plastered down and dark with moisture.
“Look at this,” Lexie said, trying to keep her mind on the computer and not on his water-flecked skin.
He bent over the back of the couch, his freshly shaven cheek touching hers. “What am I looking at?”
“The people standing around Leo. Look at their eyes.”
She began clicking through a series of pictures. In every shot of Leo, there were always one or two fetches nearby, often right at his elbow. One photograph could be explained away, dozens could not.
A random memory bumped her consciousness. “Leo came up to me the night of the reception. It was when everyone was leaving the hall.”
Faran’s breath fanned her cheek. “What did he do?”
The prince had handed her the coiled electrical cord and she’d thought nothing of it. “He stood right next to the ring case. It would have been too easy to take the ring and give it to Gillon for safekeeping.”
“In other words, means and opportunity were right there.”
“But what about motive?” Lexie countered. “Why would he be at the middle of the conspiracy? He’s already a prince. What more does he want? If he’s working with the fey, it can’t be because he hates nonhumans.”
“All we know is that he’s not afraid to use the fey to get what he wants.”
“To be king of both Marcari and Vidon?”
“And to get back at his brother? In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a sibling rivalry there the size of the Mediterranean. The fact that the fetch who attacked you looked like Kyle—that had to be a royal up yours.”
“But how...” Lexie floundered, beset by a vision of Prince Leo in wizard robes, bringing a fetch of his brother to life. “How is he doing all this?”
Faran’s face darkened. “Well, he’s not working alone. That much is certain.”
Chapter 21
Too much sex definitely impacted productivity.
Lexie’s phone chimed, dragging her back from sleep just as her eyes drifted shut. “Go away.”
The nubby fabric of the couch pillow dug into her cheek, making her itch. Last night had caught up with her and she’d stretched out on the couch for just a moment, but she guessed more time than that had passed. Faran had left to show Prince Kyle what they’d found in the photos after Lexie had uploaded a slide show of evidence to his phone.
She sat up with a groggy yawn, her phone chiming again. She picked it up see a text had come in. She swiped the screen, thinking it might be from Faran.
Hi, Lexie. It’s been a while since you hugged your brother. XXOO.
“That’s a three out of ten.” She threw the phone down on the couch in disgust and slid back into a sleeping position. She might have said it a bit too loudly but, seriously, that wasn’t her persecutors�
�� best work. As intimidation tactics went, the skewer was way better.
She leaned her head back against the cushions, but now her eyes were wide open. She fervently wished Faran was back. The room was quiet, the only noise the rattle of the palace’s ancient water pipes. But her mind was hooked like a fish on a line, unable to shake free of the text message. Surely Valois’s people could figure out where the message had come from? No, catching her stalker—for that’s what this was—couldn’t be that easy. Poitier had supposedly delivered a message from Justin, so she already knew his masters were in on it. It was all the same bunch of bad guys, out to drive her crazy so Faran wasted too much time looking after her.
She was beginning to think that last bit of her theory might need a bit more work. It seemed like an awful lot of effort just to distract one agent, even if Faran was the only Company man at the palace.
Gradually, Lexie became aware of the sound of breathing. At first she thought it was her own, but she silenced herself and listened. The sound continued. Someone was there with her. Her scalp prickled with alarm.
Although by now she was fully awake, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to tip her hand. Instead, she tried to guess where her visitor was standing. The noise seemed to be all around her, growing steadily louder. This is where the kick-ass heroine would have a gun. Why don’t I have a gun?
Because she had always been a runner, not a fighter. Inwardly, Lexie swore. Stone-still and cramped with tension, she was growing colder and colder as she listened. She had to move. She had to do something. But she had never really learned how to fight. Not like Faran.
Lexie looked from side to side as far as she could without moving her head. There was no one in front of her. Whoever it was had to be in the bedroom—standing there, watching her and planning who knew what. The sheer creepiness of it made her stomach lurch.
She was supposed to be safe. Faran had put some sort of super locking gizmo on the window sash so it couldn’t be jimmied open, and yet somehow her stalker had gotten in. This was far, far too much like the endless nights of her childhood, when she’d huddled in bed, frozen and trembling. Her neck was starting to cramp—there was no way she wanted to remain like this until Faran returned. Maybe she could make it to the door. They’d posted more security guards in the corridor—several of them this time.
Inch by inch, Lexie sat up and looked around. There was no one. Stiff with tension, she stumbled off the couch, her shoulders hunching as she looked around. It was only then that she realized the sound of the breathing was coming from her phone. It had landed right behind the cushion she was using for a pillow. She snatched it up. The phone wheezed at her like Darth Vader in miniature. “Oh, come on.”
Embarrassed, she flipped the phone over and popped out the battery. The noise instantly stopped. Frustration hummed along every nerve, making her squeeze the phone until her fingers ached. What makes you think you can do this to me? Worse, she’d fallen for it. Lexie dropped the phone to the cushions as if it had burned her, but then her fingers curled into fists.
A knock came at the door. Lexie stiffened. “Who is it?”
“It’s Maurice, love,” came the familiar voice.
Maurice? She’d met him a few times, but there was no reason he would be seeking her out. She hurried to open the door. Sure enough, the tall musician stood in the hallway, wearing what appeared to be an electric-blue leisure suit from the ’70s. She hadn’t seen lapels that wide in her lifetime.
“Come in,” she said, still slightly mystified.
“What do you think?” He gave a feline smile and twirled as he followed her inside her rooms. “Resplendent?”
She nodded. “It, um, well, the color pops.”
“Yes, I know. I’m a lounge lizard waiting for the right sunny rock.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries while he strolled aimlessly about the room like an exotic butterfly unwilling to settle.
“What’s the occasion for the fashion statement?” she asked.
“Rehearsal. Then a concert in town for the right kind of charity donors. Invitation only. Amelie is all about the children’s hospital.” He gave another sly smile. “I don’t mind. I’ve been very fortunate and don’t mind spreading a bit of that luck around. After the concert, I’ll be doing the fireworks event at the palace, not to mention the celebrity croquet tournament for those of us who can’t manage polo.”
“That’s quite the schedule.”
“Let’s just say I’ll be earning my keep the next few days.” Maurice raised an eyebrow. “I don’t get to be idle rich, just look like it. Anyhow, I was hoping to find the inestimable Mr. Kenyon. I have a tidbit of news to share before I head off to town. He seems to be a man in need of the right gossip.”
“Okay,” she said, part of her mind still on the invasion of her phone. “Faran’s out for a few minutes.”
Maurice looked at the huge cartoon character wristwatch he wore. “Too bad. I need to toddle. I may be mad, bad and dangerous to know, but the contract says I must also be punctual.”
But he didn’t stir, instead studied Lexie intently. “Are you all right, love?”
There was so much she could have said, but she didn’t know Maurice well enough. “It’s been a strange few days, with the bad fish and everything.”
He gave her an assessing look that said he probably knew more than he was letting on. “Point taken.”
She was spared a reply. Just then Faran walked in, clearly surprised to see Maurice there. “Hi.”
“Is Leopold still missing?” Maurice asked unexpectedly.
Faran frowned. “Yeah, why?”
“Gossip has it that yesterday our younger prince was seen madly hunting for a dropped something on the lawn—apparently lost after he tripped over a wicket and fell.”
“Really?” Faran said slowly. “He didn’t happen to say what?”
“No, but I have it on good authority from one of the part-time gardeners that this afternoon some tourists found a ring in the bushes. Honesty would compel most to return it to the lost and found but, alas, not everyone is so high-minded. My trusty garden gnome believes they came on the shuttle bus from the Hôtel de la Plage.”
The ring. Lexie wanted to blurt it out, but she wasn’t sure how far Maurice was in Faran’s confidence. But the words rang like an insistent chime in her head as they said goodbye and Maurice strode off in a swirl of electric blue.
“Is he your informant?” Lexie asked.
“No, although in this instance, he seems to have appointed himself one.”
“I don’t get why he’s involved,” said Lexie. “He’s insanely rich and famous and some kind of relation to the Vidonese royal family. He probably played with Kyle and Leopold when they were kids.” Then Lexie stopped herself. She’d just answered her own question. Maurice was sticking his nose into Faran’s investigation because Kyle and Leo were family. One way or the other, he cared about the outcome.
“At the moment he’s being useful. I was there when Leo tripped,” Faran said. “It never crossed my mind that he would have been carrying the ring.”
“Well, giving it to a flunky didn’t work out so well.”
“And now he’s lost it and is on the run.” Faran rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if a headache threatened. “Does that seem odd to you? Wouldn’t he stick around and try to find it?”
Lexie went to the couch, pushed her laptop and camera into her leather backpack and zipped it up. “I think if he hears someone found the ring, he’ll go after it. Or send someone. Those people might be in danger.”
“What are you doing?” Faran asked.
“Aren’t you going to go after them? To the hotel?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I’m going, too.”
“It could be dangerous.”
She stuck her ch
in out mutinously. “What are you saying? Weren’t you glad I was there to beat up Gillon with a tire iron? Besides, it’s just a hotel.”
Faran held up both hands. “Okay. I get that you need to go. This is about you and your right to control your destiny, and I’m all about making sure you get what you need. But if I say duck, you do it. No arguments.”
“Agreed,” she said. “But we’re taking your car. We broke mine already.”
He held up a set of keys. “Prince Kyle gave us a loaner Jaguar.”
“Nice.”
“Not bad. But I’m serious—if you want to bail at any point, just say so.”
“I won’t bail.”
“You don’t have anything to prove,” he said.
“I know. But I mean it. I’m really tired of these nut jobs getting their Norman Bates on.” You, my heavy-breathing friend, just made my ass-kicking bucket list.
It wasn’t how she was used to thinking, but getting to know Faran’s wolf last night had taught her a thing or two. The wolf had shown its strength to challenge and dominate, because that was in its nature. But so was a fiercely protective love. Strength, even force, didn’t have to be abusive. Intent was everything. Fighting back didn’t mean joining the dark side.
She intercepted Faran on the way to the door and caught an arm around his waist, pulling him closer for a kiss. He responded instantly, deepening it until she rose up on her toes to get more, and more. She wasn’t going to be left behind, and she wasn’t going to let anyone get between them.
Faran was right. Lexie had to be the person she was born to become.
Chapter 22
The Hôtel de la Plage was the kind of place married couples went when they wanted a vacation but were still paying for their kids’ tuition. Decent, but no one was calling Condé Nast.
Faran pulled the Jaguar into the parking lot, which had a view of some scruffy palms and a collection of concrete pillars meant to imitate a Roman ruin. Kitsch, apparently, was an international phenomenon. The hotel was long and low, set around an apathetic garden with a swimming pool.
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