by Nyna Queen
And now it was obviously time for another episode of the Dubois Soap Opera.
Alex shifted a little, peeking over the top of her book. No way she was gonna miss this. And she had a feeling that Darken, who seemed to be completely engrossed in his novel, was listening just as keenly as she was.
“Daddyyyy.”
Stephane lowered his papers with a delightfully exasperated expression on his face.
“Didn’t we already go over this, pumpkin?”
Josy had bought up the topic several times during the last couple of days, so far without success. But she didn’t seem ready to admit defeat just yet. And with only four days left until the ball, she had to floor her car.
“You can’t do this to me, Daddy,” Josy pleaded from her perch on the couch, next to Stephane’s armchair. “All of my friends are allowed to go this year!”
“All of your friends weren’t almost abducted a week ago.”
Josy wrinkled her nose. “Almost two weeks. And nothing happened!”
“I wouldn’t call that nothing,” her father muttered dryly.
She looked up at him with her big honey brown eyes and he sighed. Ah, those eyes, growing bigger and bigger. Alex hid another grin. The girl would be devastating when she was all grown up. Oh, the boys would be in so much trouble. How she’d love to see that.
Wait a minute, sugar! Alex reined herself in. Of course, she wouldn’t be here to see that. If things went according to plan, she’d be gone in less than a week and never see this insane family again. And good riddance!
Strangely this thought felt like a cold needle piercing her breastbone. Sweet Jester, this place was scrambling her brains. She really had to get out of here. Sooner rather than later.
Stephane put his papers away and was looking torn. It was extremely gratifying to see this mountain of a man squirming in front of his teenage daughter, unable to decline the impending battle. A battle which he was about to lose. He just didn’t know it yet.
His voice softened. “Honey, I just want to keep you safe. Please understand that.”
Josy sniffed adorably. “I do. I really do.” Her hands wound around his forearm. “But you will be at the ball. And Uncle Darken. And Alex. Which place could actually be safer than that?”
Ah, a different approach. And not a bad one, either. Let’s see how Stephane, the verbal acrobat, handled that one.
“She’s got a point, you know,” Darken noted from the other side of the room, where he was slouched in another armchair. Even barefoot and with a book in his hands the man managed to project skin-blistering hotness. It wasn’t fair.
Stephane scowled at his brother but Josy beamed.
“See?” The kid seized the opportunity to slip onto her father’s lap and wrap her arms around his neck. “And I would behave myself perfectly. I would do anything I was told, I swear on the merciful Mother.”
Stephane scowled. He had been outmaneuvered and he knew it. He sighed and you could hear the surrender in the sound. “I’ll talk to your mother. But no promises, okay?”
“Oh, Daddy! You’re the best!”
Josy pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and jumped to her feet, twirling in a little pirouette.
“I said ‘no promises,’” her father called weakly after her but she had already fluttered out of the room like a little butterfly soaring on rainbow-colored wings of happiness.
Stephane rubbed his face and gave Darken a withering glance. Oh, if looks could kill …
“What the hell was that?” he growled. “You’re supposed to have my back, not to stab me in it!”
Someone else might have been intimidated by the menace in his voice, but Darken just calmly marked the page in his book before he put it down and looked at his brother, crossing his muscular forearms over his chest, his golden tattoos flashing in the candlelight.
“You want to protect her, I get that, old son. But she isn’t a little girl anymore. And she desperately wants to go. At that age, these things are important. You know that very well.”
“She’s still so young!”
“She’s almost fifteen,” Darken rectified. “And if I remember correctly, you were younger than she is now when you went to your first grand ball, brother, isn’t that so?”
“That’s far beside the point!”
Amusement tinged Darken’s deep voice. “Is it?” Then his expression became serious again. “I know you are worried and I admit the timing sucks, but there will always be some threat to her—and Maxwell—because of your position. Do you intend to keep her locked away from the world until she is of age and free to decide for herself? That would smother her.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen her out there. Everybody thinks she is delicate, but there is a hidden strength in her. You should be glad that she isn’t so cowed by the events that she doesn’t want to go out anymore.”
Stephane muttered something incomprehensible. Alex only caught something about “stupid reason.”
“And she is right about one thing,” Darken added. “Crona Palace is probably the safest place in the entire realm. The palace has the best and highest security measures imaginable.”
All the anxiety Alex had managed to suppress for the past couple of hours hit her with the force of a solid blow, giving her the jitters. And they still thought they could get her shaper-ass inside undetected? The more she thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed.
“Nobody will be able to touch her there. And we’ll all be watching over her. It’s probably safer there for her than here. And, frankly, we could use another pair of eyes and ears.”
Stephane jumped to his feet and pointed a finger at his brother. “She won’t be involved in this!”
Slobber raised his shaggy head in alarm and woofed softly. Alex rubbed the dog’s furry hide with one foot. Content, he put his muzzle down again and closed his eyes.
“I hate to say it, brother,” Darken said with a grim expression, “but she’s already involved, whether you like it or not.”
The two men stared at each other.
Alex closed her book with a loud snap, causing both of their heads to swivel in her direction.
“If I were you, I would be less worried about an attack and more worried for another reason.”
Stephane stiffened.
A ruby sheen ignited in the back of Darken’s eyes, rolling over his irises, holding violent promises.
Ohh, the glow of doom!
“And what would that be?” he asked too softly.
“Just one word.” Alex leaned toward them with a wicked smile. “Boys!”
Grinning at their dumbfounded expressions, she dropped her book on the couch and quickly left the room.
“DARKEN.”
“Belaris?”
The vis-a was silent for a moment, then, “We have to talk.”
CHAPTER TEN
LOCKWOOD wasn’t a bad place, Alex reflected, but she still couldn’t bring herself to like it much.
It was one of the few halfborn inhabited cities in Lancaester, located close to the province border, and while it wasn’t like the Trash Bin by a long shot, after the luxury and peacefulness of Helton Manor, its tight corners and the mass of people out in the streets made Alex uneasy.
Or perhaps, her uneasiness could be attributed to the fact that, for the first time since she’d reached the Dubois’ country mansion—except for the tea party at the Saunier Estate—she was out in the open again and the small chance that she might be stopped and arrested for some obscure reason set her teeth on edge.
She hadn’t even realized how safe the protective walls of Helton Manor had made her feel, until she left them.
Let’s face it, the drudging lessons, Heloise’s never-ending jibes, the well-nigh impossible demands, and the painful shoes, they all were nothing in comparison to a week of double shifts at the Jester’s Inn. Or compared to constantly scraping up her money to pay the rent. Or to being on the run without a clue where to crash that night and when the next meal would appear. F
or the time being, she was sleeping in the softest bed she could imagine, taking bubble baths every other day and having first-rate food in quantities she wasn’t able to finish if she tried. There was a sick kind of irony to all of this. Because, despite everything, some tiny human part of Alex couldn’t help vastly enjoying it all, then would resent herself for it.
She should be terrified, not carefree. And most of the time she was. But there would be moments—when she was goofing around with Josy, when Max made them all laugh by impersonating his latest fantasy animal, or when Stephane told them amusing anecdotes about a parliament meeting during dinner and everybody was laughing so hard they had to fight not to spit out their food—moments in which she would, for a short second, completely forget that this wasn’t real. That this wasn’t her life, and that she wasn’t a venerated guest in a trueborn aristo house but a hardly accepted fugitive wanted for murder. This realization would come soon after and a feeling of panic would return fiercer than ever before, burrowing into her like sharp, unforgiving teeth.
Being back out in the real world, made Alex doubly aware of how unreal these past few days had been and how much danger she was still in.
And their “disguise” wasn’t exactly doing much to make her feel better. To the contrary.
She glanced at Darken. Alright, he didn’t look too bad. Then again, he wasn’t wearing that much of a disguise: worn-out denim pants tugged into motorcycle boots, a black t-shirt, and, despite the warm day, a leather jacket that covered his arms and concealed his sword.
His hands were deep in his pockets to hide his tattoos; in this sunny weather, gloves would have stuck out like a turd in a punchbowl. The most important part of his disguise was probably the pair of reflective sunglasses covering his eyes. All in all, he looked like a bad boy ready for some trouble, and she made it a point not to look at him too often.
Alex, on the other hand, looked utterly ridiculous, starting with the straight brown bob wig and the beret that perched on top of it. An oversized gray sweater over a pair of blue jeans squared her curves and turned her into a bit of a dough ball. Add to that her heavy coat of unmade-up looking makeup and a pair of huge, thick-rimmed glasses, she looked like plain Jane’s older sister with a disturbing tendency to know-it-all-ism.
Just another two students making their way through the hustle and bustle of the city. Yeah. Right.
At least she got to wear boots, too.
First, Alex had resisted—the wig simply looked hilarious on her and while she really wasn’t the vain sort, she had certain standards, not to mention that the stupid thing itched like hell. But Stephane and Darken’s arguments had finally convinced her: true, it wasn’t overly likely that they would run into a member from the high society out here, but should anyone recognize Darken as Stephane’s forfeit brother walking around with a tall, blond female, someone might connect the dots later at the ball. The chance of that happening might be slim, but taking any kind of risk would be stupid. And she, of all people, couldn't afford to be stupid right now. So if that meant wearing this stupid itchy mop … well.
Darken stopped in front of a two-story coffeehouse sandwiched between a second-hand shop and a small repair store for electronic devices. The place was filled with students sitting in groups on wooden chairs or beaten couches, poring over books and papers, tapping away at their laptops, and discussing classes. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and bitter, aromatic tea herbs gave the place a warm, comfortable atmosphere despite its crowdedness and Alex wished they really were just a pair of older students taking a moment to grab a coffee and discuss their latest assignments.
The second they entered, a pretty waitress in a short moss green dress with enormous boobs swooshed over and approached Darken. Alex rolled her eyes. It was interesting how, when he was around, other females failed to entirely notice her presence.
Alex couldn't hear their voices over the buzz of talk, the jazzy music, the bubble of coffee machines and hissing of milk frothers but the way the woman pushed her hip to the side, tits out, she seemed to be enjoying herself.
Not that Alex could blame her. Ever since the carnage outside the Pacified Zone, Darken had seemed a lot less edgy and in much more control of his killing vibes. When he wasn’t putting on trueborn airs and graces, she could almost forget that she was walking around with one of the world’s deadliest predators. Almost. Of course, there was no way for him to completely hide his lethal nature, that subtle, delicious spark that primed the nerves with a touch of fear and excitement.
And perhaps that little something was what intrigued Miss Monster-Titties over there.
Pretending to scan the crowd, Alex watched her from the corner of her eye. Sure, it was loud in here, but she didn’t have to lean that close. Or smile that brightly.
You’re barking up the wrong tree, sugar. This guy is way out of your league. Just as he was out of her league, came the prompt and painful reminder. Oh, whatever.
After a moment, the waitress nodded and indicated for Darken to follow her. Darken threw a quick glance over his shoulder at Alex.
Oh yes, she was still there, thanks for asking!
Nobody paid them any notice as they pushed through the crowd. At the back of the room, a slim wooden staircase wound down. At the bottom, the left corridor led to the men’s and ladies’ rooms, while the right corridor led to a row of private compartments, screened off by wooden sliding panels.
“It’s the room at the very end.” The waitress pointed past Darken down the corridor to the right. “Your friend has already placed an order but if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ring the bell, sir.”
“Thank you, miss,” Darken said in his deep, velvety voice, the embodiment of gallantry, and the girl blushed and giggled like an idiot. Alex rolled her eyes.
When the waitress turned away from Darken, she found Alex standing at the bottom of the stairs. With a disparaging glance as she took in Alex’s shapeless sweater, unbecoming hairstyle, and nerdy glasses, she squeezed past and stomped up the stairs.
Bye-bye! Alex followed her with her eyes.
After the girl had vanished, she spun around and almost fell over Darken who had been standing right behind her. He leaned over, causing her heart to do all sorts of crazy jumps inside her chest, and put a hand to her lower back, steering her along the corridor which was barely wide enough for the two of them.
“I’ll install sound wards to keep our conversation private but that will not stop anyone from entering,” Darken murmured lowly into her ear as they stopped in front of the last room. “Can you let me know if anybody approaches the room? Give us a little heads up?”
Ah. Alex had been wondering why Darken had asked her to join him on this little venture. Now things made a lot more sense. Not that she minded. To get out of Heloise’s iron grip for a while she would do a lot worse things than acting as a lookout-spider.
“Sure thing, sugar!”
Darken nodded. He pushed at the wooden panel and held it open for her.
Alex stepped through.
There were a few things that she noticed first: the lack of windows in the small cubicle room, the paper lamps that emanated a gentle yellow glow, the small table with four chairs, and the steaming teapot surrounded by several small porcelain cups.
Then she was distracted by the man whose body was draped over the back of one of the chairs.
Hot, hot, scorching! There was no other way to describe this masterpiece of male perfection she was facing. The guy had that devastating look of trouble that made fathers lock their daughters in the basements of their houses: a sharp, angled face; teasing blue eyes; blond hair gelled into a wild, spiky mess. And that body … Mother’s mercy and Jester’s fucking grace! Trim and muscular from the top to a very shapely bottom in charcoal jeans. His bulging biceps peeked out of a black t-shirt that had the phrase “cute but psycho” printed across it, while beneath it was the image of a cuddly white bunny with a bloody knife in its stubby little paw.
/> Before Alex knew it, she was hit with a seductive smile. Wow! Her pulse actually spiked a little. The smile widened another fraction. Oh yes, a born ladykiller and he was well aware of it.
Still, Darken was more her type. Well, not her type-type. Anyway. She wasn’t thinking about this. Him. Argh.
A tingle of magic brushed against her skin and she felt the sound shields snap up around them. Glancing over her shoulder—glad to be able to look anywhere other than at Mr. Hot-as-hell-in-the-middle-of-a-scorching-summer—Alex saw Darken step back from the sigil he had just attached to the paneling.
Taking off his sunglasses, Darken tossed them onto the table, crossed the room and the two men embraced, matching gold and black tattoos blazing on their hands.
Alex took it at as her cue to remove her own glasses and get rid of that stupid wig. It was getting unbearably hot underneath it.
She realized Darken was glaring at her.
“What?” she asked. “It’s itching!”
“It’s for protection, you fool!”
“Well, wear it yourself then!” She threw it at his feet.
The hot guy chortled.
Darken briefly raised his eyes to the ceiling, shook his head and then faced the other man. “Belaris, this is Alex Harper.”
So that was Belaris. The wonder-worker who, according to Darken, could hack just about anything that was hackable, as well as a few systems that were considered impossible to crack.
The man blinked and looked from her to Darken. “Wait! This—this is the shaper girl?”
“Guilty as charged, sugar,” Alex drawled sweetly as she stepped forward and offered her hand, flashing her black claws for a split second.
Belaris looked over her shoulder at Darken and mouthed “wow,” before he took her hand—you had to give it to him, no hesitation at all—brought it to his lips and kissed her fingertips.
He gave her an enticing wink. “Two legs, three legs, eight legs, be sure we don’t discriminate.”
A hand came down to rest on Belaris’ shoulder. “Tone it down, man. We are on a tight schedule.” Darken’s voice was casual but Alex thought she heard a small warning underneath it. Belaris seemed to hear it too because he quickly dropped her hand, but not without giving her another curious glance.