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The Prince: A Wicked Novella by Jennifer L. Armentrout (13)

The Prince’s parting words stung more than they should have as I stared at him. There was a part of me, a stupid, tiny part of me that was hurt by those words. The rational part of me knew that was stupid because I’d called myself a ghost.

But to hear him say it?

Brighton from two years ago would’ve never found herself in this situation in the first place, but if she did, she would’ve definitely run from the room to lick her wounds no matter how stupid those wounds were.

But I wasn’t her.

And I might not know what the hell I was anymore, but in that moment, I wasn’t a ghost. Not anymore.

I met his gaze and then smiled as I slowly lifted my hand and flipped him off.

His nostrils flared.

With that, I pivoted around and stalked out of the weird room with my head high. The moment I yanked open the stupid door, my mind immediately went berserko on me, replaying every word we exchanged.

My head was a freaking mess as I slammed the door shut behind me, mainly because I’d never shared with anyone else what I shared with him. I had no explanation for why, none that made sense at least. I couldn’t even believe that I’d spoken those words to him. Embarrassment rose as I stalked down the dark hallway, toward where I remembered the stairway was, hearing the thump of music once again. As I opened the door, I briefly fantasized about racing back into that room and spin kicking him in the face.

That fantasy was probably why I didn’t realize the stairwell wasn’t empty until it was too late.

A shadow peeled off the wall and came at me fast and hard. I didn’t even get the chance to engage the cuff and release the stake. My right arm was twisted behind my back as an icy hand curled around my neck.

A burst of panic punched through my chest as I was flipped around and my front pushed against the wall. The side of my face slammed into the cool brick. Stinging pain exploded from my nose and I tasted blood in the back of my throat.

“I recognized you,” the voice said, and I couldn’t place it. “You were in the club Saturday night. You went into the room with Tobias. Your hair was red then. Different eye color, too.”

Hell.

Shock that my disguise had been seen through gave way to finely honed instinct. Going limp, my sudden weight caught the fae off guard. He stumbled back a step, giving me the room I needed. Bringing my legs up, I planted them in the wall and used it as a springboard. The fae slammed into the wall behind him, the impact jarring his hold loose enough for me to break it.

I fell forward, my knees cracking off the cement. Knowing I only had seconds, I shifted my weight to my palms as I looked over my shoulder, kicking my leg out. My booted heel connected with the fae’s midsection, sending him back again to the wall with a grunt.

Popping to my feet, I engaged the cuff bracelet as I whirled around.

The door to the hallway suddenly swung open, blocking my view of the fae and then the door wasn’t blocking my view.

It was the Prince.

He seemed to know what was happening, because he went straight for the fae. He was so fast that literally only seconds had passed between him stepping into the cramped stairwell and placing his hands on either side of the fae’s neck, snapping it.

The fae slumped to the floor, twitching, and then tumbled down the narrow flight of steps, coming to stop in a twitchy heap on the landing.

My mouth was hanging open as the Prince casually pulled his phone out of his pocket, hit a few buttons and then said, “Everest, I have some trash that needs to be taken out. Back staircase.”

Then, slowly, he turned toward me. “You’re bleeding.”

I touched my nose. It was sore, but nothing major. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve had worse.”

I had and I didn’t need to confirm that. “How did you know what was happening?”

A moment passed. “Luck.”

My eyes narrowed, and for some reason, I didn’t believe him. He knew something was happening in this stairwell; how was left to be determined.

His head cocked to the side. “Why did he attack you?”

Glancing down at the spasming fae, I winced. “He recognized me from Flux. I don’t know how, but I think he might’ve been with Tobias.”

“I killed all those fae.”

“He may have left before you got there.” I lifted a shoulder. “You know I can take care of him.”

“Everest will handle it.”

I thought that was unnecessary, but whatever. I disengaged the iron cuff as I dragged my gaze from the fae, more annoyed than anything else. I hated to admit it to myself, but if that fae had seen through my disguises, there was a good chance that another fae could.

Wiping the blood off my nose with the back of my hand, I then bent and picked up my dropped clutch.

“A soul of a warrior,” he murmured, repeating what he’d said earlier.

I didn’t know how to respond to that as I looked at him, discovering that he was staring at me intently once more.

“But like I said before, it’s not enough.”

That I knew how to respond to. “I was doing just fine before you showed up, just so you know.”

A tight smile formed, one I imagined a parent gave a child when they came in dead last during a race. “You hungry?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Are you hungry?” he repeated, angling his large body toward mine. “For food.” Amusement was clear in his tone.

“I didn’t need the second part clarified. Thanks,” I muttered.

“I know this place down the street that has the most amazing crab cakes. Would you like to join me?” he asked, and in the dim light of the stairwell, those pale eyes were piercing.

I should say no.

I definitely should say no for a multitude reasons.

“Okay,” I said instead, because I was an idiot and honestly, the offer knocked me off guard. “I guess.”

One side of his lips kicked up. “Good, but I just have one request.”

“You invited me to grab something to eat, but you have one request?”

“I do,” he said. “I want you.”

My eyes widened as the heat from earlier returned in full force, and goodness, that was annoying… and a little frightening. “Excuse me?”

“I want you to be yourself. I don’t want this.” He gestured in the general direction of my head. “I want you to be… you.”

 

* * * *

 

I’d used a restroom on the second floor to change… back into myself. Of course, I wasn’t able to get rid of the makeup. That required near industrial strength makeup remover, but I took off the wig and unpinned my hair, shaking it out. That was the best I could do, and I wasn’t even sure why I’d done it.

Maybe it was because no one… no one ever seemed interested in me before, the real me, that the request stunned me into complying. That was the best reasoning I could come up with as I found myself sitting across from the Prince in a brightly lit Creole House, toying with the paper wrapper from my straw as the amazing scent of spicy seafood had my stomach rumbling.

We were… we were getting a lot of looks. Strange ones. Long ones with raised eyebrows. I figured it was partly because the Prince was so big and so freaking nice to look at, that people were probably wondering if he was a celebrity they couldn’t place. I also figured that some of the looks were due to the fact I looked like a hooker.

I like to think I at least looked like an expensive hooker.

“You’re nervous,” the Prince commented after we placed an order for crab cakes and, per the Prince’s request, a crawfish platter.

I glanced up at him. Was I nervous? Uh, yes. I was currently sitting across from the Prince in a restaurant looking halfway like my normal self, and I really had no idea how I’d ended up here. “Do you smell it?”

A faint smile appeared. “Don’t need to. You’re building a compost pile over there.”

Frowning, I glanced down and saw that I did have a significant pile of torn paper in front of me. I dropped my hands to my lap and drew in a shallow breath as I lifted my gaze. “I don’t… I don’t think this is a good idea.”

His stare was unwavering. “It’s probably not.”

My heart skipped at the agreement. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but I wasn’t thinking he was going to agree. “You asked me to join you.”

“I did.”

I stared at him. “So why did you ask me to join you if you think it’s a bad idea?”

He leaned against the booth, tossing his arm along the back. “Because good ideas are ideas rarely wanted… or needed.”

Flattening my hands on my thighs, I wasn’t sure how to respond that. “Okay.”

“Why did you agree if you think it’s a bad idea?”

I let out a dry laugh. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

The faint smile reappeared. “So, since you were recognized by the fae tonight, will that be enough for you to rethink what you’re doing?”

“Is that why you asked me to come here?” I picked up my diet Coke and took a sip. “To involve yourself yet again in something that does not concern you?”

“It concerns me.”

I put my glass down. “How is that?”

He dipped his chin and stared at me through lowered lashes. “That’s not going to deter you, is it? The added risk.”

Shaking my head, I lifted a shoulder. “Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear or the truth?”

There was a flicker of amusement that crossed his face. “You risk too much.”

“I haven’t risked nearly enough.”

“How do you see that?”

I leaned forward, placing my hands on the table. “I’ve spent thirty years playing it safe.”

His brows lifted. “That’s your logical reasoning for putting your life on the line?”

Sounded pretty illogical, but whatever. “You know why I must do this, risk or not. Just like you would go after Aric or the Queen even if it meant your death.”

A muscle ticked along his jaw. “As I said before, it’s different.” There was a pause. “I remember,” he said. “I remember the first time I saw you.”

A shiver danced across my shoulders as I lifted my gaze to his.

“You were scared of us—of me and my brother, but mostly me. You stood in the corner of Tanner’s office, not daring to come close,” he continued, and that was true. Both had scared me, but especially him. “And then I saw you the night we fought the Queen. You were still afraid, but you helped my brother. You helped my brother and me even knowing what I’d done while under the Queen’s control.”

The night resurfaced. Prince Fabian had been severely injured by the Queen and he’d needed to get back to Hotel Good Fae. I had offered to help. “I didn’t do much. I just drove you guys back to the hotel.”

He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving mine. “You were afraid of us. You were unsure of us, but you still helped us when it was needed. That is doing everything and that is why I owe you an apology.”

“You do?”

“For what I said about you looking for the younglings and knowing how important it was,” he explained. “I shouldn’t have doubted you, not when I know you will come through when needed.”

While his doubt had been frustrating, it was understandable. “It’s… not a big deal.”

“It is.” The Prince sat back. “In my experience, it is.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing as I stared at my glass of soda, watching the little bubbles race to the surface.

“It would be such a shame for the world to lose someone… someone like you, especially after being given a second chance.”

Air hitched in my throat. That was yet another word of kindness from him that I didn’t know how to process. “That’s nice of you to say, but you… you don’t know me well enough to think that.”

“I am hardly ever wrong about these kinds of things.”

A laugh escaped me. “Okay. Even if that is the case, like I said before, I don’t understand why you care this much to have this conversation again. Remember? I’m just a human woman and I’m already half dead.”

His jaw worked as those lashes lowered again. “I should not have spoken those words.”

“Why? Because they were ignorant?”

“Because what you said about yourself is a lie.”

I stilled. “What do you mean?”

A long moment passed, so much so that I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then those thick lashes lifted and those eyes seemed to see straight through me once more. “You’re not a ghost. You never could be one, not when you burn as brilliant as the sun.”

 

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