Cape Argent, Nunavut, Canada

Atlantic Coast

 

 

 

 

I patted my face. Soft fur tickled the pads of my fingers. I asked curiously, “What do I look like?”

The Arch of Sight had done its work on us.

Lord Cato opened his mouth, the inside purple. I was pretty sure he was grinning, but it was really hard to tell with his black scaly snake-face crinkling in an unbecoming way. He stated, “You’re a wolf.”

“Oh.” I crossed my eyes and examined the black, furry snout I now had. “I think I like that.”

Lord Pippin’s normal face continued to flicker in and out of existence, there one second and gone the next, like a faulty television. “Better than me, that’s for sure.”

Lord Otto poked at his right cheek. “What about me? What kind of freak do I look like?”

The fur on my face twitched, as my mouth turned down into a frown. No one else spoke, not wanting to answer him. I cleared my throat, and grumbled, “You look like you. But you have scars all over your skin. Ugly ones.” They were deep too, but I didn’t mention that.

He pulled his blond brows together. Silent.

That was pretty much how I thought he’d take it. The image of his face was…private. The asshole Overlord was obviously damaged by the life he’d had.

Lord Xenon looked down at his own body. “At least, the blood isn’t ruining my clothes. They don’t appear to be affected.” The Overlord was drenched in blood. His head. His throat. His hands. Any exposed skin was covered in it. The dark crimson gore ran down his face, the flow never stopping, but it didn’t pool at his feet. The blood disappeared there, gone as if it never was. His black eyes lifted to our silent group. “I only brought two pairs of these shoes.”

I snorted. The mysterious lord was like me.

Pampered bitches at heart.

We were totally unashamed about it, too.

Our group turned inside the warm, black cave we stood inside and looked back at the Original druid and his two best friends. The three of them delayed outside in the snowstorm. They wordlessly scrutinized our forms.

Lord Belshazzar lifted a black brow on his red “devil” face. “We’re waiting, Master Niallan.”

The Original druid flicked a finger at my father, mumbling absently, “I knew he’d look like that.” He shook his head of blond hair and snapped himself out of it. The druid walked forward and passed under the archway, with his friends following on his heels. His stunning green eyes crinkled at the corners when he stopped next to me and winked. “Your majesty, might I say you look beautiful as a wolf?”

I sniffed and lifted my snout into the air. “No, you may not.”

Master Niallan’s skin was now the color of pure gold—with thick veins of red showing underneath and creeping over his face, pumping underneath in time to his heartbeat. The druid snickered and removed his heavy jacket. “It’s not surprising Lord Cato and you are vicious animals. Like father, like daughter, I suppose.”

Lord Cato smirked—definitely a smirk. It wasn’t any more pleasant to look at than before. I believed he was proud of the druid’s words, though he switched topics. “What do we do now? Keep walking?”

“Yes, follow me.” Master Niallan draped his jacket over his right arm and strolled deeper into the cave. “It’s another hike. Or, the same hike, I suppose I should say.”

I picked up my bags and quickly followed.

Ysander and Devin tracked their ruler while the files they held were shuffled in their hands for an easier hold. The two druid pricks looked like skeletons, all white bone. Their bony fingers drummed on the file folders—tap, tap, tap—while they sauntered along, completely at ease. All-in-all, their images freaked me out the most, or, more like, how they weren’t bothered by it.

They were the dead. And they didn’t give a shit.

Perhaps I wasn’t so tolerant.

Master Niallan should positively kill both of them.

The cave gradually opened to a cliff. Stars twinkled overhead, and waves crashed against the jagged, deadly rocks below. A bridge jutted out from the edge and carried over the Atlantic Ocean and stopped at a familiar road—sans snow storm. The gentle wind caressed my fur, and the scent of salt water pleased my snout.

Master Niallan pointed a finger. “Once we cross the bridge, the Arch of Sight is done. We’ll be beautiful once more.”

I adjusted my heavy bags in my grip. “Is that the road we started on?”

He nodded once in affirmation. “We’ll travel the same path to the heart of my stronghold.”

Awesome. These bags would weigh a ton by then.

The weather was pleasant, at least. Not too hot, not too cold. It was perfectly delightful.

I set my cumbersome bags down and took off my winter jacket. I chucked it at the Original druid—all the Overlords’ hands were full carrying their own luggage. “Hold that for me. And try not to ruin it.”

Master Niallan’s lips curved into a sinful grin. He draped my coat over his jacket on his arm. “Are you positive you don’t want Ysander or Devin to carry your bags?”

“I’m sure.” I didn’t look at them, a shiver already stealing up my spine at their ghastly forms. I lifted my bags again. “I’m ready now.”

He winked. “As long as you’re ready, your majesty.”

I cast a squint in his direction.

The Original druid’s lips twitched. “You actually look frightening when you scowl with that wolf face. Should I be frightened, your majesty?”

“Always,” I grumbled. I shuffled on my feet, weighed down by my bags. “Can we go already?”

He snickered and sauntered onto the bridge. “They really can carry your bags for you.”

“I’d rather take a header into those rocks than have them touch anything of mine.” I huffed and slid beside the “devil” as we walked over the bridge. “Why don’t you have a car waiting for us? Or a helicopter?”

“Because I like nature. It’s in my blood. Automobiles ruin the environment that we live in.”

Damn druid.

We eventually crossed over to the road.

I stumbled, and my hair—not fur—fell down around my face. We were back to normal. I pushed on, griping, “How about some servants? Can’t they take our—”

“Your majesty, give me one of those bags,” Lord Cato stated calmly. “I can carry it, no problem.”

My feet came to an abrupt halt. “Really?”

“Really.” My father set his luggage down and took one of mine from me, somehow, maneuvering it under his left arm and picking up his own luggage too. He didn’t appear hindered by it, and his smile barely showed. “Ready now, your majesty?”

I blinked. “Yes, my lord.”

I turned and hurried to catch up with Lord Belshazzar. The Overlord didn’t glance back, but his pace subtly slowed, allowing me to reach him without running. Neither of us commented on the bitty fact that our vampire senses worked again now that we were here—that I simply wanted to walk next to him, as he did me. We marched back up the same steep hill in companionable silence, while dead leaves crunched under our boots. An owl filled the air with its powerful hoot, the arresting creature hidden up in the limbs of the barren winter trees.

“Is the weather always like this?” I asked curiously.

“The nature around us continues to change with the seasons, but, yes, the temperature is constantly the same in my stronghold,” Master Niallan answered. The stars winked down on our group, lighting our trek up the hill. “The druids here prefer it this way.”

Lord Belshazzar grunted. “Finally, you speak of your people’s wishes.”

Master Niallan flicked a quick glare at the lord. “I am not a dictator, as you seem to believe, and my people are not all ‘fucked in the head’ as you said before. I merely have different laws for druids, compared to the severe laws that govern your people. Druids are allowed more freedom than yours—as they should have.”

“We all know that’s the way you feel,” Lord Belshazzar countered. He stepped over a root—the root I had tripped over before—without pointing out his vigilance versus my previous lack of it. The lord shook his head. “There is a difference between being a kind ruler and being a careless ruler. Your people have been running amok and creating chaos. Surely you can see that.”

Hell, even I’d witnessed the druids’ brazen behavior.

“I don’t care what my people do to the humans.”

“You should when their actions are thoughtless. They’re becoming increasingly bold.”

Master Niallan sighed heavily. “I’m also not afraid of a war between our people if it ever comes to that. We would win. Humans are no match for vampires and druids, despite their large numbers.”

Lord Belshazzar wasn’t even out of breath from our tramp through these woods—again. “You’re correct. We would. But we would lose good people during the fight. And, in the end, we’d have to accommodate the humans, so that wars wouldn’t continue to erupt needlessly. Druids and vampire citizens alike would find fault in that.”

The Original druid snorted. “We could annihilate them.”

That was an old conversation. We all knew that.

We could wipe humans out. If we wished.

But not everyone wanted them gone…

“And take away our pleasures?” One of the lord’s black brows lifted. “It would be akin to no longer having a cellphone. How would your people like that? About as well as mine would, I’d presume.”

Master Niallan swatted a branch aside and stayed quiet. Because, deep down, he had to know all this already.

“You need to take control of them,” Lord Belshazzar stated calmly. “Now. While we’re here. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, but take care of your people before it’s a shit storm you can’t control. They need to compose themselves before they make things even worse.”

His green eyes clashed with the lord’s icy blue gaze. “Do not tell me what to do with my own people.”

Lord Belshazzar shook his head slowly. “That attitude will be your downfall. And make my life harder in the long run.”

Master Niallan turned his attention to where he walked. “I wonder, Lord Belshazzar. Do you know that your ego is as big as mine?”

“I do.” The Overlord’s lips lifted into a small, cruel smile. “But I also know I’m the biggest motherfucker here too. I have the balls to back up my ego, where you do not.”

The Original druid snickered. “Fuck, you’re just like him.”

My brows puckered in confusion. I glanced back and forth between them, hoping for a tidbit of information while they argued.

Lord Belshazzar’s smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You would,” Master Niallan grumbled under his breath. He stopped as we crested the hill again and spread his arms wide, our coats still dangling over one of his arms. “We’re here. It looks better than the crumbling decoy, don’t you think?”

I damn near swallowed my tongue. “Uh…yes.”

Deep in a valley lay a city of gold. No border surrounded it, as the druids had no need for one. Tiny, adorable buildings lined pebbled streets, lights still lit inside businesses and homes, even in the middle of the night. The scents of bread and sweets already wafted on the breeze—bakers up early and working. And in the middle of their sanctuary sat a castle, a large golden castle that glimmered under the moonlight.

Master Niallan tilted in my direction, pointing a finger, and fake whispering, “Don’t forget, your majesty. The tallest tower is where my room is.”

I lifted my brows and laughed—disgusted and reluctantly amused. “My god, do you ever stop?”

His lips twitched. “Only when we’re both exhausted and ready to pass out.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He’d fallen asleep after our bout of sex.

I sure as hell hadn’t.

Even if it had been interesting.

And…fun.

I could—grudgingly—admit that to myself.

However, he was no Lord Belshazzar. Not at all.

The quiet lord standing next to me could go all night long until we were drained of all energy and spent from passion. The Overlord ticked every single one of my boxes in the bedroom. Every single one of them. If no one was around right now, I’d tackle him to the ground and demand that he fuck me. I wanted him again—already. I had ever since I’d left his bedroom, the constant alluring thought of his beautiful body pressed against mine tempting.

Master Niallan’s green eyes sparkled. “Object all you want. But your eyes are dilating right now while you look at me.” He winked. “I’ll be seeing you soon, your majesty.”

I doubted he’d think that if he knew I was currently thinking about how fucking pretty his main adversary’s cock was.

I used what I had available to me though, not swaying him from his line of thinking. “Just show us to our rooms, Master Niallan. It’s been a long day.”

 

*  *  *

 

“Oh my god,” Lord Xenon muttered. He turned in a slow circle inside the one room that all six of us were standing in. “Is this his idea of a joke? Some of us will have to share beds.”

Two golden bunk beds were situated against the left wall, their sides pressed up against each other. A twin-sized bed was on top, and a full-sized bed was on the bottom of each one. The blankets were piled high, and the pillows were fluffy.

I dropped my bags and pointed to the top left bed, the farthest away from the lone bathroom. “That one is mine.”

“The fuck it is,” Lord Otto stated in a hurry. He rushed right to the bed I’d pointed at and threw his luggage up onto the mattress. He grinned with glee. “I got here first, your majesty.”

There was only one single bed left.

The remaining five of us charged at it.

An elbow landed in my neck—pretty sure it was Lord Xenon’s flying limb—and I stopped and placed my hands on my knees, choking and coughing. I couldn’t even see the rest of the struggle clearly, as my eyes were watering too badly. It was all a blur of rapid limbs, grunts and shouts, men being tripped and falling over each other, and even some blood winging through the room and splattering onto the beige tiling.

I held my throat and straightened. I scowled at Lord Xenon where he was now perched on the last single bed, like a damn contented cat, grinning from ear-to-ear. Dots of blood peppered his left cheek, smearing as he rested his head down on his pillow. Pain resonated inside my neck, making it difficult to speak. I croaked, “Dickhead.”

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” He snickered. “You’ll be healed in a minute or two. Don’t be a sore loser.”

Lord Belshazzar sighed and dropped his bag on the bed below the smug lord’s. “My balls are off limits, fucker. Touch them again, and I’ll rip yours off.”

Lord Xenon laughed and rolled onto his back. “Guess it’s not just your secret brother you’ve lost against.” His gaze caught mine, and then rose back to the ceiling. He closed his eyes in satisfaction. “You must be more tired than you thought, my lord.”

The enigmatic Overlord was smart.

My father waggled a finger at Lord Pippin and me. “One of you is sleeping with me. I don’t trust you two together. There will be no flames rekindled.”

I lifted my eyes heavenward. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Exactly. It won’t be.” His brown eyes narrowed, and his waggling finger stopped on Lord Pippin. “You’re with me. Where I can watch your bastard ass.”

Lord Pippin snorted. “I hog the blanket.”

“It’s true. He does.” I walked to grab my bags. “And that’s why I agree with my father. You’re sleeping with him.”

Lord Pippin ran his fingers through his dark red hair. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

“Agreed. I might kill you while you sleep if you steal my blanket one more time. And that would upset all of our fans.” I dropped my bags next to my designated bed where a certain sexy Overlord was already resting. I lifted a black eyebrow. “Lord Belshazzar, you don’t hog the blanket, do you?”

Intimidating blue eyes stared—no emotion showed in their depths. He placed his hands behind his head and stretched his large body out. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had an overnight guest in my bed. So I couldn’t really tell you.”

“Let’s hope you don’t,” I grumbled.

The man knew he didn’t. I always had plenty of blanket with him. Both of us continued to play our parts, neither of us wanting the other lords to know about our sexual relationship.

I unzipped one of my bags and grabbed pajamas out, a few others doing the same. I walked on quick feet to the bathroom, making sure I was the first one to use it. I did not want to enter the bathroom after one of them took a crap. The highest echelon of our society or not, their shit still stank like anyone else’s. I grinned in victory as I shut the door on Lord Otto’s face, once again beating him to a restroom.

By the time I’d exited, they’d all changed into their pajamas. I chuckled as Lord Otto rushed past me in a blur, cutting off Lord Xenon’s attempts to enter the bathroom next.

I shook my head and flopped down onto my shared bed, and muttered, “I call first dibs on the shower in the morning.”

Who knew if Master Niallan had magical pipes. The water would turn cold fast if he didn’t. No amount of vampire speed would help with six royals who liked to look good and carried more beauty products than a human sorority. I’d noticed the lords’ open luggage. They were just as anal about their perfect hair as I was.

Lord Belshazzar tilted his head on his pillow and stared at the side of my face. “Dibs won’t work with them—which you saw earlier. You have to take what you want.”

I sighed. “Master Niallan is an asshole.”

“Yes, he is.” Lord Belshazzar lifted on one arm, leaning on his elbow and peeked through the slats on the bed. He eyed the closed bathroom door. “I really have to piss. He better not be in there forever.”

I tipped my chin to the front door. “You’re a man. Go outside.” The castle was beautiful and amazing—and just as large as ours. “I think there was an exit to a courtyard a few floors down.”

His lips twitched. He still stared at the bathroom. “I was being polite, your majesty.”

I grinned, unable to hold it back. “There’s air freshener in there. Top shelf. I dug through the cabinets.” I was so, so happy I went in there first. “Thank fuck that bathroom seems to be soundproof.”

The Overlord’s lips slowly lifted into a smile. “You took a shit in there, didn’t you?”

My twinkling eyes caught his. “I deny everything, my lord.” Lord Otto hadn’t known what he’d rushed in to.

Lord Belshazzar snickered quietly. “Then you must have stunk the bathroom up bad. That poor man.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “He deserved it.”

Lord Belshazzar grunted. His gaze returned to the bathroom door. But he said, “See that portrait over there? Above the desk.”

My attention snapped to the lovely hand-painted picture of a stunning druid woman dressed in a white, flowing robe. “What about it?”

“Watch her eyes.”

“Okay.” I stared, waiting good-naturedly.

Thirty seconds later, the woman blinked.

Her lavender eyes disappeared, then reappeared.

My lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s disturbing. And a violation of privacy.”

“As you said, Master Niallan is an asshole.” With his eyes still on his prize, he tipped his head to the painting. “That’s a painting of his deceased mother. He put it in here just for me.”

The room turned silent.

The other lords’ attention snapped in our direction.

My jaw hung open. “He’s the Original druid. How the fuck does he have a mother?”

Lord Belshazzar snorted. “How the fuck do you think he was born?”

“Magic.”

The Overlord shook his head, and his black hair brushed my face. His blue eyes narrowed on the bathroom door, apparently getting impatient for his turn. “Master Niallan is an egotistical shithead, who only cares about himself. Everything you know about him is a lie. He created his own story. Years passed. It became our societies’ truth.”

I blinked. “You’re saying the druid and vampire histories aren’t true? That he’s not the Original druid? That he didn’t kill the Original vampire—and obtain his vampire power that way? Those are bold statements to make, my lord.”

His attention swung down, peering into my eyes. “He killed his friend and obtained the additional power that way. That much is true. The rest is fiction.”

My nose scrunched. “How would you know this?”

“Because I was there. I arrived too late to change the consequences of their actions. But I was there.”

I couldn’t even breathe. I couldn’t even move.

The rest of the room’s occupants didn’t make a sound either—the Overlords stunned into silence like I was.

Lord Belshazzar lifted a black brow. “Scared?”

I swallowed hard and sucked in a large breath. “The amount of shit that I’ve learned in the past few days is scary. But I’m persuaded to believe you, like before.” I would never ask him his age again. This vampire was old-as-dirt. “How do you know that’s his mother?”

“Because I killed her.” Simple, cold words. “No one else had that shade of lavender in their eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful.”

I shook my head. “No wonder he hates you.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I owed my brother a debt. I paid it with her death.”

I blinked. “I’m thinking Master Niallan probably is going to starve us while we’re here.”

His plump lips lifted into an entertained smile. The lord laughed softly and shook his head. “I tell you all of that and all you do is worry about food, your majesty?”

“My lord, your words will change our history books, but they don’t change our present. Everything is still the same now, even with our history based on lies.” I pointed at my belly with a sharp finger. “And I’m hungry. His abhorrence of you may keep him from being cordial. It already has with this room and the lack of food given when we arrived at his castle.”

The smile slipped off his face. He stared at my stomach. His plump lips turned down at the corners. “I’ll make sure the prick feeds us tomorrow morning.”

I eyed the front door. “I was thinking about going to get something now.”

Lord Cato stepped right into my line of sight. He shook his head. “Your majesty, in light of…this new information…you should refrain from sneaking around Master Niallan’s home in the middle of the night.”

My lower lip was definitely sticking out. “I’m fucking hungry. The last time I ate was at breakfast. I was sleeping on the plane when you all ate dinner.”

My father shook his head. “I don’t believe Master Niallan wishes to harm you. His motives are the vampire crown. He wouldn’t do anything himself to put that in jeopardy. But if Ysander and Devin know this story too, I wouldn’t put it past them to take revenge on the only female in our group. We’re currently at their mercy. You need to be careful.”

I instantly fiddled with the chain on my necklace, the jewel hidden underneath my silk pajama top. My eyebrows puckered in frustration, but I nodded in agreement. I didn’t look back to the lord lying next to me.

Lord Belshazzar always had a plan.

Including telling everyone his past.

His words had hit its intended audience.

Now I would be watched more closely by the other lords, protected by them. Like the protective necklace around my throat. The Overlord was keeping me very safe and telling me more about himself, allowing me glimpses into his private life.

Lord Belshazzar turned his attention from the bathroom door. The large lord started crawling over my body, careful not to touch me in front of them—or the watching portrait. He stood to his full height and rubbed at his stomach, griping, “Lord Otto’s taking his sweet ass time in there. I might as well get her majesty some food while I wait. Anyone else want something from their kitchen?”

Lord Pippin grumbled, “Yes. I’m starving. I’ll come with you.”

Lord Xenon pushed off the wall where he’d taken residence next to the bathroom. “I’ll come too.”

Lord Cato flopped down onto his bed. “I’ll stay here. I’m not hungry.”

“We’ll be back soon then.” Lord Belshazzar’s frigid blue gaze snapped to mine. “Do as Lord Cato said, your majesty. Don’t wander during the night in this place when others aren’t around to track your whereabouts.”

I licked my bottom lip, utterly shocked by his kindness. The man was venturing out to get me something to eat. “Thank you, my lord.”

In reply, Lord Belshazzar grunted.

The front door shut softly behind them.

Lord Otto walked out of the bathroom in the next second. His blue eyes searched the semi-empty room. He muttered, “What the hell did I miss? I wasn’t in there that long.”

“Jesus fuck.” My laughter filled the room.

 

*  *  *

 

I cracked my eyes open, unsure what had awoken me. A gentle hand instantly covered my mouth in the darkness. I blinked as Lord Belshazzar’s soft hair raked over my face, his head leaning over mine and his alert eyes scanning our room with a narrowed gaze.

Crack, crack. Crack, scrape.

Both of our attention snapped to the portrait.

It was coming from the painting.

Crack, crack. Crack, scrape.

A gun suddenly aimed at the painting—from the full-sized bed next to ours. Lord Cato lifted onto one of his elbows, with his weapon raised, rumbling, “What the fuck is that?”

“I’m not sure,” Lord Xenon answered from above us. “But it sounds like something’s trying to crawl through the picture.”

I lifted my left hand from under our blanket and delicately removed Lord Belshazzar’s hand from my mouth. I pulled my other arm out from under my pillow, my gun already in hand. I aimed it at the portrait too.

A sizzle of druid energy blasted the room, blowing my and the Overlord’s hair back from our faces. The world spun as I was shoved in a toppled mess against the wall, banging against it loudly, and Lord Belshazzar was on his feet with two guns in his hands and pointing them at the portrait.

Master Niallan’s mother walked out of the painting. Her brown hair floated in the air around her, as if she were underwater, and her white robe swooshed back and forth in a non-existent breeze. The beautiful woman’s lavender eyes glowed sharply in the darkness.

She was a ghost, her form not corporeal. The wall behind her was fully visible through her lithe body.

Lord Belshazzar hissed and lowered his weapons. “That motherfucking asshole.” He stalked forward and waved one of his guns through her legs where she stood on top of the desk. His hand went right through her. “Fucking parlor tricks to ruin our rest.”

Lord Pippin whispered, “That’s some freaky shit. Is she going to do anything?”

I pushed up on my elbows and brushed my black hair out of my face. “Better question. Where did my gun go?”

Lord Cato waggled his weapon at the ground. “It went airborne when Lord Belshazzar went ape-shit.”

I sighed and crawled out of bed then grabbed my gun off the floor where it had landed. “Lord Belshazzar, get back in bed. The bitch is only annoying. She isn’t doing anything.”

Master Niallan’s mother took that moment to float down off the desk, contradicting my words. She started twirling around and around the room, dancing and throwing her head back in silent laughter. Her body even floated through our beds—and the Overlords lying there in shock.

I blinked. “All right, that’s fucked up.”

“He’s fucked up,” Lord Belshazzar retorted. Then he pointed at our bed with one of his guns, irritated and grumpy. “You’re sleeping against the wall, your majesty. Get your ass in first.”

“I guess you asking is better than being thrown into the wall.” I sighed and traipsed to our bed. “I hit my damn head, my lord.”

He scowled. “My apologies.”

I fixed our twisted cover and stiffened as the mother-bitch floated right through me in her insane, looping dance. Round and round she went. It didn’t feel like anything—nothing at all—when she drifted through me. But it was creepy as hell.

And if a vampire thought something was creepy, it was probably true. It was best to stay away from shit that sent chills up a blood-thirsty killer’s back.

Like a dead, spying mother dancing in your room.

I crawled back into bed and pulled the cover up over my shoulders. I waited until Lord Belshazzar slid in beside me, and then I asked, “My lord, do you think he’ll let us switch rooms?”

He rolled to face me and stuffed his hands underneath his pillow. His blue eyes held mine—and I tried to ignore the ghost pirouetting behind him. He explained, “Master Niallan’s having too much fun. If we moved rooms, he’d just make it worse. That’s how he is.”

I closed my eyes. “Bastard.”

“I agree.” One of his legs touched mine under the covers. “Now, quit talking. I’m tired as hell.”

I kept my eyes shut so I couldn’t see her. My eyebrows pinched as my thoughts wandered. “If that bitch starts singing, I’ll open fire on her. I don’t give a shit if she’s a ghost. It’ll make me feel better.”

He snorted, and then growled, “She’s a parlor trick, not a ghost. And unless you want me this ill-tempered tomorrow, then shut the hell up, your majesty. I need my sleep.”

Not. An. Easy. Lover.

I opened my mouth just to spite him. “Good night, my lord. I hope you have sweet, sweet dreams. Of women that you’ve killed and skeleton druids lurking in corners.”

“Fucking hell. Now that’s fucked up.” Then…he laughed, deep and quiet. “Ysander and Devin were ugly, weren’t they?”

I teased, “Shh. Remember? Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

Lord Otto barked, “Shut the hell up!”

My lips twitched. I knew full well the other Overlord could hear me when I whispered, “Guess you’re not the only one who’s grumpy, my lord.”

I fell back asleep inside the haunted room.