Falling off a house hurt like a bitch. But not as much as getting shot with a cannon would have. Margery hadn’t expected to be knocked out, though. She must have needed the sleep, because she could feel the sun on her body again. Maybe today she’d be able to fly.

“Is she dead?” A shadow blocked out the sun, and she instinctively flinched. Oh, no, the drakes won. She was a prisoner again. At least they kept her out in the sun.

“Obviously not, Reed. Back off, you big galoot. You’re scaring her.”

Margery opened her eyes at the female voice and smiled at the dragonling hovering over her. She had thick thumbs and toes, no claws that Margery could see. Her face had a hooked beak, and her wings buzzed in excitement.

“I’m Carolyn. We’re from the embassy.”

Margery turned her head and then cowered before the large, black dragon looming above her.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’ll give him a big head. And he’s the size of a bus already. That’s Reed, my consort.”

“Hello,” Margery said. The black dragon landed with a ground-shaking thump. His bulk blotted out the sky. He was truly the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Sharp horns ringed his neck, and two massive ones rose out of his forehead. His eyes were the size of footballs and glowed red. His claws gripped the ground as he steadied himself.

“We’re from the embassy. Champ called us.” He swung his head around, his nostrils flaring.

Champ. “Is he all right? Are the drakes gone?” Margery said, forcing herself to look at the smaller dragon.

“Nobody here but us chickens,” Carolyn said. “You look like hell. Do you want to come inside with us?”

“Remy doesn’t want me in the house. He says I should stay outside until I can shift back into a dragon. I’m...damaged.” Margery looked down as she got to her feet, not wanting to see the pity in Carolyn’s eyes. The sun bolstered her, and she straightened up with just a twinge in her back. “I tried to shift last night in the fight and wound up just puking up my supper,” Margery said, feeling like her old self again. Well, her old self without wings, anyway.

“I hate when that happens,” Carolyn said. “Where’s Remy? You shouldn’t be alone.”

“He’s not here?” Margery tamped down a flash of panic. “He saved me. He fought the drakes.” She staggered forward.

“Easy,” Carolyn said. “I’m sure he’s fine. Why don’t we go inside and Reed can find him. I bet you’d like a shower.”

“That would be heaven.” Margery felt like the entire forest was in her pants, and she ached all over from spending the night on the ground.

The air around Carolyn shimmered as she shifted to her human form. Carolyn’s brown hair was swept back into a bun at the back of her head. She had tortoiseshell glasses and wore a pink polo shirt and jeans. She looked like a librarian, but that could be because she was carrying a book. “I brought you this.”

It was James Fenimore Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans.

“I know this is Lake Champlain and not Lake George, but I figured close enough. It’s a great book.”

“I’ve never read it, but I saw the movie.”

“Stay alive,” Carolyn recited and acted out, grabbing Margery by her shoulders. “I will find you.”

Alive. “Remy’s okay, right?” Margery didn’t know what she would do if something had happened to him. It would be all her fault.

Reed cleared his throat. He had shifted into a well-dressed fed, which apparently he was. He was handsome in a hit man–chic sort of way. He made the word “intense” a verb. “I’ll secure the perimeter and see if I can find Champ. I believe he’s in the lake, where he’s strongest.”

Relief shook through her. “Can you check? Do you think the drakes hurt him?” Guilt nibbled at her. He had been so brave and a total badass. She was glad he was on her side.

“In a moment. I need to process the scene out front. Carolyn, please take Margery inside.”

The Smooshie doll!

“I need to get something out front,” she said.

They followed her around the house. Margery stopped dead when she saw the carnage. There were tracks everywhere. Dead drakes littered the ground, whole and in pieces. The log she and Remy had been sitting on was splinters. The air mattress was shredded into tiny pieces. She was glad the sea serpent–like creature that Remy turned into wasn’t among the fallen.

Her relief was cut short when she saw the Smooshie.

“Oh, no,” she said. She ran over and sank to her knees on the ground. The red stuffed animal had been torn asunder and was nearly unrecognizable after the pounding it took. She checked, but the pills were gone. Her proof was as dead as the drake carcasses.

“What’s going on?” Carolyn asked Reed.

“Take her inside.”

“This was evidence,” Margery said, holding up the scraps of fabric. “I had proof that Smythe Industries was smuggling drugs in these Smooshie dolls.”

Reed shrugged. “I’ll see what information we have on them. Smythe is on my shit list, anyway. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s into something like this.”

“You don’t understand,” Margery said. “I’m not talking about Viagra or Percocet. This drug was made to chemically transform a human’s uterus so it would accept dragon sperm.”

That stopped Reed in his tracks.

“It’s killing more women than it’s making into incubators,” Carolyn said.

“How did you know?” Margery looked up.

“It’s one of my cases,” Reed said. “You have proof of this?”

“I did.” She held up the remains of the doll.

He took it from her and sniffed. “All I can smell are drakes.”

“They knew about it, too.” Margery glanced around, but it didn’t look like any of the drakes would be talking any time soon.

“I’ll get a team to track them. Please, don’t worry yourself about that. I apologize that we arrived too late to save you from the unpleasantness.” Reed inclined his head in respect.

“The pirates who kidnapped me were shipping these”—Margery shook the battered dragon doll—“from Quebec to Vermont. The cargo and the yacht were destroyed when Viola and Remy rescued me. I know it’s just a matter of time before Smythe makes his next shipment.” Margery told him the name of the warehouse and the road it was on.

Reed bowed his head. “That will aid the investigation greatly.”

“Can you find Remy?” Margery rubbed her arms as a chill shook through her. “He was so nice.”

“I’ll fly over the lake as soon as you and Carolyn are secure inside. Do not fear, though. I can be there and back in a matter of seconds. So can Champ—I have no doubt he’s fine, so don’t worry. You were never in any danger after the drakes were neutralized. Did they harm you?”

Margery took a deep breath and relaxed at Reed’s reassurances. Of course Remy was fine—he was so much stronger than all the other studs combined. “I’m okay. I’m just tired and a little weak. But truly, I need to get to the bottom of this Smooshie problem once Remy comes back.”

“I’ll send some agents over to question the men who held you prisoner and another team to investigate the warehouse where you were captured.” Reed reached into his pocket and frowned at his phone. “I don’t have a signal.”

“There’s a satellite connection on Remy’s laptop. I managed to save it during the fight.”

“First things first.” Carolyn stepped in. “You”—she pointed at Reed—“find Champ and bring him back here so we’re all on the same page. I’ll get Margery settled inside. You forget we’ve got another delegate coming in any minute. He’ll probably have a satellite phone that you can commandeer.”

“I find it’s easier just to do as she says,” Reed said to Margery. He kissed Carolyn on the cheek then shifted back into his dragon form and took flight.

Margery let Carolyn take control and watched as she got familiar with Remy’s surroundings then led her inside the house.

“Normally, I’d recommend a nice hot bath, but we’re in a bit of a hurry, so jump in the shower. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and see if I can drum up breakfast.”

Her whole being lit up. “Not coffee. Tea, please. Oh, do you think Remy has tea?” She’d kill for a cup of Earl Grey.

Carolyn shrugged. “His mom is Scottish. They drink tea over there, right? I’ll see what I can find.”

Margery bit her lip. “Do you know how to make tea?”

“Duh,” Carolyn said. “Nuke a Lipton tea bag in the microwave.”

Margery gasped so loud, she had a coughing fit.

“Oh, Nidhogg, are you all right? Should I call for Reed?”

“No.” Margery shook her head. “I just need a minute.” She took a deep breath. “The tea in tea bags is usually not high quality. In most cases, it’s the tea dust that’s left behind from the processing of the leaves.”

“So it’s crap?”

Margery thought that might be a little harsh. But if the shoe fit... “Yes. I mean, comparatively speaking. Tea leaves taste so much better. But I shouldn’t be so picky.” Margery opened up a few cupboards and then sighed in relief when she saw that Remy did have all the makings of the perfect cuppa. She pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. It was one of the few things her English grandmother had taught her to enjoy before she died. Those moments of her childhood when she was with her grandmother were the happiest times of her life. She still missed her with an ache that never quite faded away. After her funeral, Margery was sent back to her mom and the revolving door of “uncles.”

“I can do that,” Carolyn said as Margery put the kettle on the stove and turned on the burner.

Margery showed her a plain white teapot and a canister of loose tea. “First, we need to pour boiling water in the pot to warm it.”

“This sounds like it’s going to be complicated.” Carolyn crossed her arms and leaned against the refrigerator while she watched.

“It’ll be worth it, trust me.” Margery shook the tin and then lifted the lid and offered it for Carolyn to smell.

“That’s nice. It’s stronger than I’d expected.”

“It’s an English breakfast tea. We’re going to drink this with milk and sugar once it’s done. But to prepare it, we’re going to put in a teaspoon for each of us.” Margery counted out four teaspoons. “And one more for the pot.” It was a nice, comforting ritual. Some of the stress in her neck and shoulders eased. She could almost believe things were back to normal. Well, as normal as a dragon who couldn’t fly or shift could get, she supposed.

“Okay, okay,” Carolyn said. “Warm the pot. Scoop in the tea. And put more water in the pot. I think I can handle this. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“I’m sorry.” Margery slumped. “I’m so grateful to you. I don’t mean to be fussy.”

Carolyn waved away her worries. “I’m the same way with books.”

Well, in that case... “Once you put in the boiling water, steep the tea for four minutes. Set a timer. No longer or the tea will be bitter.” Margery lingered in the doorway. “Okay?”

Carolyn shooed her away.

Fretting about the tea gave Margery something else to concentrate on other than what happened last night. She really hoped Remy was all right. He had been outnumbered and still he’d stood between them and her, protecting her even though she was a stranger to him. She wasn’t used to dragons being so selfless. Selfish, arrogant, yes. Down-to-earth and kind? Not so much.

Remy’s bathroom was the size of her apartment. The first thing she did was go over to the sound system and turn it on. Casimiro’s latest hit echoed off the tiles. Snorting, she flicked it off. Speaking of self-centered jerks. Casimiro was an incredibly talented singer and songwriter. He was also a Chinese dragon, and one of Margery’s first assignments had been to interview him.

She still couldn’t believe she’d slept with him after only knowing him an hour.

“Whore,” she said to her reflection in the floor length, but there wasn’t any heat or recrimination in her voice. She was more concerned with the large bruises on her back and thighs. The only thing a dragon could do was hurt her heart, and she wasn’t letting a stud get that close ever again. Even if he did have a noble heart.

The thought of Remy’s smile, though, made her grin. It was a secret one, though. Only for her and her reflection.

At least the damage from being in the ship’s hold was starting to fade. Rolling her neck, Margery winced as her tight muscles protested. She ran the water as hot as she could stand it.

The shower was a religious experience. Remy had multiple showerheads hitting her with gushes of water at every possible angle. She could stay in here for hours—Carolyn had been thoughtful enough to bring shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel that had the pleasant fragrance of a seaside breeze. The fresh scent enveloped her, the smell of the ocean transporting her sensually to a beach party.

Most of the time, fragrances were all the vacation she could afford on her reporter salary. And when she came home to her apartment, she’d light a candle depending on her mood. Apple pie was one of her favorites when she was feeling lonesome, which was often. It got so bad that she pretended the chefs on the Food Network were part of her crazy family. The peppy, happy one that cooked fast was her zany sister. The rotund Italian chef was her favorite uncle, who would bring Perugina chocolates to her for the holidays. She even picked the sweet old Southern gal to be her mom. They were just television personalities, but the fantasy was better than the reality. Her sister was a grifter, strung out on drugs most of the time. Her uncle had molested them, and her mother was in jail. Yeah, she’d take fried butter and salmon sammies over that any day.

Toweled off, she got into the clothes that Carolyn had brought. They were a little big, but at least they were girl clothes. She was going to miss wearing Remy’s shirt. After a moment of consideration, she folded it up and stashed it in the overnight bag Carolyn had given her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind that she’d nicked it from him. Inside the bag, there was even a makeup bag with clips for her hair.

“You really think of everything,” she said, coming back downstairs to the smell of bacon frying up in a pan.

“I’ve been there.”

Margery made a beeline for the tea Carolyn had strained into four mugs and added milk and sugar to hers. She took a deep swallow, trying not to gulp it.

“It’s perfect,” she said to a beaming Carolyn. “It’s the best damned cup of tea I’ve ever had.” Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. She was no longer a victim. If she kept telling herself, maybe she’d believe it.

Carolyn turned to her and frowned. “Why don’t you make the clothes fit better?”

“I didn’t have a belt.” Margery tugged on the jeans.

“No, use your magic to snug up the fabric. Heck, if you want something different, you can magic up some designer duds if you want.”

“Oh.” Margery gave a half laugh. “I can’t do anything like that.”

“Hold on a sec.” Carolyn dumped scrambled eggs from a pan onto a platter and set it on the table. Turning the bacon on low, she came over. “It’s all about visualization. Like when you shift into a dragon. Only instead of picturing a dragon, picture what you want to happen. Change the top so it’s blue. Or the jeans to be bell-bottoms or something.”

“I don’t really think about shifting. I just do.”

“Try this. Try making the clothes fit better. You can experiment on other things later. The cool thing about this is you’ll never be naked again. Just send your clothes away when you shift and bring them back when you turn human again.”

“I think that’s easier said than done.”

“It does take practice,” Carolyn agreed. “I have to get back to the toast before it burns. Let me know if you need any help.”

It took a few tries, and for Margery to get over feeling very silly about herself, but she managed to magic herself an outfit that made her feel like her old self again. Now, if she could only magic up a laptop. She shrugged. She’d just have to keep borrowing Remy’s.

“Where are you?” Margery whispered, pulling back the curtain to look out in the woods.

***

REMY FELT THE BLACK dragon’s presence even this deep underwater. He knew the moment the embassy’s reinforcements showed up on his land, even if he was still too weak to surface. The people were nervous, and even the ground shook in fear, sending shock waves through the lake as Reed flew over. Reed was a Celtic dragon, built like a flying tank with swordlike claws and teeth. But the black dragons also spit a virulent poison that killed humans on contact and would erode away dragon scale. It was a nasty way to die. Remy had been charged with protecting a Queen, though, and the penalty for letting her die was to follow her in death. He didn’t want to die, but it was their law.

Remy gathered up his strength and started his ascent. It was slow going, but his territory recognized a threat and fed him more power. He would miss Lake Champlain and the humans who had named the lake after him. He wished he’d been able to find his mother and say a last good-bye.

His death would also prove that the five elder Queens had been right—he wasn’t fit to protect or serve. A long time ago, when Remy was young and stupid, he had, against his mother’s wishes, petitioned Cassandra to be in her court. She wouldn’t even see him. Just sent a message with one of her studs. The note had long since disintegrated into ash, but the memory of the words was etched on his soul.

If you can’t fly, you’re useless to me as a protector. I would not risk an egg of mine having your disability.

Margery would have been a good Queen, and the regret that clawed in his belly pushed him toward the surface. She had deserved a better protector than him. If she only had followed directions and run for the lake, they’d both have been alive at the end of today.

His head breached the water, and he stared down at the embassy’s executioner. He wouldn’t fight. Even if he defeated Reed, they would just send another.

“She wouldn’t listen to me,” Remy said. He could at least try to explain. It wouldn’t do him any good, but at least it would go down on record that he hadn’t just stood back and let the drakes kill her.

“They seldom do,” Reed rumbled, flapping his wings to stay aloft above the lake. It made ripples around him, and Remy wondered if the tourists would feel the wake.

“The drakes were tipped off. They knew she was here and weak enough for them to try for her.”

“How many got away?”

Remy thought about it. “Six.”

“They sent fifteen after her?”

“About that.”

“You killed nine of them.”

Remy nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Good for you. Now, let’s get back to the house. We’ve got to figure out what the hell to do with Margery. She’s making some accusations against Smythe that are going to get her killed—even if they aren’t true. And I’ve got a sinking feeling that they are. You didn’t get a chance to see the pills inside the doll, did you?”

“Margery is still alive?” Remy’s heart kick-started into overdrive. He hadn’t failed her. She was going to get a chance to be Queen, and he was going to get another chance as her protector.

“Well, she was when I left her with my mate. And since I haven’t heard otherwise, I’m assuming that hasn’t changed.”

Remy swam toward home, faster than Reed could fly.

***

MARGERY WAS CLEANING up the dishes when Remy stormed into the house, Reed behind him.

“I’m sorry about—” she started to say, and then she was in his arms in a crushing bear hug. “Hi?” She was shocked at first, but it felt so damn good to be hugged that she relaxed into it.

Remy must have realized they had an audience, because he suddenly stiffened and put her gently away from him at arm’s length. “I’m very happy to see that you’re alive.” He pushed his hair off his face and smiled.

“Me, too,” she said. “Are you hungry? We saved you breakfast.”

“I startled a sturgeon, so I ate,” he said.

“I’m assuming Margery told you about the smuggling ring going on?” Reed asked, making a face at the tea. He rooted around for the coffeemaker and made a large pot. Margery discreetly stole his tea for herself.

“I take full responsibility.” Remy sat at the table. “I’ve been in Scotland for the last few months, and I should have kept a better eye on things.”

“It’s not his fault,” Margery said. “I bet the pills are coming from one of Smythe’s companies in Quebec. I think we can trace the shipment back to him, if we can only find the next ship he sends down the line.”

“He might not take the risk again,” Carolyn said. “After all, with all the Queens that have emerged, why settle for a human?”

“Humans died because of him. I’m not letting this go,” Margery snarled.

Carolyn raised her hands. “I’m not saying we should. I’m saying that before, there was a need for him to risk his reputation and his life. Now that Queens are shifting all over the place, he might not see a need to continue with the drug production.”

“Studs still outnumber the Queens ten to one,” Remy said.

“It’s actually lower than that. About five to one,” Carolyn corrected.

“If we are able to find all the missing Queens, yes,” Reed broke in. “Right now, the whereabouts of about a hundred Queens are unknown.”

“We’ll find them,” Carolyn said. “Viola’s powers are our ace in the hole. That’s how she found you.” Carolyn smiled at Margery, who tried to return the grin but failed. She hid it by drinking deep of Reed’s tea. It hit her hard that there might be one hundred other women suffering like she had been.

“So you think Smythe’s going to lie low?” Remy asked.

“It makes sense,” Reed said. “Everyone knows you’re back on the lake now. If Smythe was behind Margery’s kidnapping, he’ll find out soon that you are her protector. However...” Reed turned to her. Margery was uncomfortable being at the end of his stern gaze. “If he knows you figured out about the Smooshie dolls, he’s going to do his best to silence you.”

“He wouldn’t dare kill a Queen,” Remy said.

“Why not?” Margery asked. “The drake from last night tried to kill me. I dived off the roof before he could fire Remy’s cannon at me.”

“Cannon?” Reed said, turning that implacable stare on Remy.

“Barrett fifty cal,” Remy muttered, looking very interested in the bottom of his cup of tea.

“I wanted to discuss the DU rounds I saw on the ground.” Reed pointed in the direction of the front yard. “National security and all that. We’d like to know where you got the uranium.”

Remy shrugged.

“We have an additional problem,” Reed said and trained his attention on her.

“Of course we do.” Margery decided not to be greedy and accepted a mug of coffee from Reed, after all—it was already made.

“Word has gotten out that you have claimed New York.”

“These drakes have a better communication network than Verizon,” Margery said. “Yes, I did. So what? I didn’t mean it. I was trying to buy time until you got here.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. My sister Arianna has already claimed New York.”

“I’m Connecticut.” Carolyn waved.

“And Viola’s Vermont,” Remy said.

“Actually, she’s Greenland,” Carolyn said.

“We were hoping Margery would give up her claim on New York and consent to be Vermont’s Queen. The formal awarding of lands won’t happen until the Queens’ conclave next year,” Reed explained.

“I just want to go back to my normal life.” Margery didn’t really want a territory, so anything was fine with her.

Carolyn shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Why? If those pirates hadn’t captured me, I’d be in my apartment right now working on my next story.”

“Well, for one thing, you’ve been evicted,” Reed said.

“My rent is paid.” Margery’s fingers clutched at her mug. She felt the ceramic start to crack, and she eased up. She didn’t know her own strength anymore.

“You have until the end of the month to get out.”

“Why?” Anger and despair warred within her. This wasn’t fair. How could this be happening to her?

“A Queen usually won’t tolerate another Queen in her territory without a suitable court.” Reed gave her a sympathetic look. “Arianna doesn’t want to waste her resources protecting you.”

Margery was about to protest that she didn’t need any protection, but after what happened last night that obviously wasn’t true. Still, she didn’t have to roll over and take it. “Your sister is booting me out? But it’s my home. I’m not looking to usurp her power. I just want twenty-four-hour food delivery and cheap show tickets. Can’t she be reasonable?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible with Arianna.” Reed’s mouth quirked.

This was a nightmare. She worked damned hard to be independent enough so that she didn’t have to go crying back to her family. Now she was homeless? “But what about my things?”

“We can have a professional mover bring them to your new home.”

“I don’t have a new home.”

“You can stay here,” Remy said.

“No. They’re forcing you to do this.” Margery rubbed his arm. What a kind man. Er, dragon. “I’m not going to invade your home. And it looks like me being here is going to make you a target.”

“We handled ourselves last night.”

He had a point, but how could she endanger him over and over again? He deserved peace and quiet. Remy struck her as a loner, so this couldn’t be easy for him. Still, he seemed sincere. In fact, if his gaze got any more intense, he’d bore a hole right through her.

Carolyn grabbed Margery’s arm. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure.” Anything to get away from Remy’s glare.

They got up from the table and went into the living room. “Look, the dragon ego is a fragile thing. Champ is your protector. That means he’s in charge of your security.”

“That’s—”

Carolyn stopped her words by putting her finger on her lips. “I know. It’s how it works. If you deny him the privilege of protecting you, it’s a huge insult. Even if you think you’re doing the right thing. Trust me. If he wanted out, he’d file a formal request. Short of that, if you fire him or say you don’t need him, it makes a dragon stud look really bad.”

“I don’t want to do that. He’s been so sweet to me.”

“Then if he offered you his house, let him make it your home base. Eventually, we’re all going to have palaces anyway. Unless, of course, you don’t think he can keep you safe?”

“No, I do. He did great last night.” More than great. Margery wasn’t sure why he thought he was useless on land. She wouldn’t want to go up against him. He bit a drake in half, for Pete’s sake.

“You’re not truly safe from other studs until you also pick a consort,” Carolyn said. “Sometimes it works out that he’s also your protector. Sometimes not. But when a Queen has a consort and a protector, it takes the piss and vinegar out of most studs. Well, the ones that are lovers and not fighters. Some will still try and take you, which is why a Queen has to have an entourage.”

“You don’t,” Margery said bitterly.

“Have you seen Reed? He’s his own entourage. Besides, I do. I have my brother-in-law Jack—a Red Celtic. My father-in-law, Niall—a Gold Celtic...”

“Crap, that’s a lot of firepower.” Celtics were nothing to mess around with.

“And Casimiro is a good friend of mine,” Carolyn said. “You know, the singer? I’m a huge fan. He’s a Chinese dragon, but you’ll meet him later.”

“What?” Margery’s voice raised a notch.

“He’s actually on his way to meet you.”

Oh, no. Not him. Not now.

“Here? Casimiro is coming here?” Margery started looking around the room. She had to get out of here. This wasn’t happening. A bubble of hysteria tickled inside her. Of course he was. Of all the gin joints in the world...

“Actually, he just circled over,” Reed said, coming out of the kitchen to join them. “And it’s about damned time, too.”

“Oh, no,” Margery said.

Remy came up to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you a fan?” Carolyn asked. “He’s really approachable in person. Although his ego is enormous. Don’t get him started on how gorgeous or talented he is, because we’ll be here all week.”

Margery started giggling hysterically. The door to the cabin opened, and she jumped behind Remy. She held onto his back and buried her face between his shoulder blades. She felt a vibration thrum through him as he took on a battle stance. And hot damn, he smelled nice. She was glad he couldn’t see her blush.

“Buenos días, my friends. It is I, Casimiro.”

“I need your phone, Casimiro,” Reed said.

“Carolyn, you look lovely as ever.”

There was a thump that Margery interpreted as Reed pushing him away from his mate and into a wall. Casimiro would have tried to kiss Carolyn on both cheeks.

“Cretin,” Casimiro sniffed. “Is it true what I hear about Cassandra?”

“What did you hear and from whom?” Reed snarled.

“I see it is.” Casimiro’s singsong voice was smug. Jeez, she used to hate it when he got like that.

“Change the subject.” Reed’s tone promised icy death. Margery shivered in spite of herself.

Casimiro cleared his throat. “Right. I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot by upsetting our newest Queen.”

Reed grunted and slammed out of the cabin.

“I see she is a little shy,” Casimiro continued as if he hadn’t just pissed off a powerful black dragon. “Why don’t you come out from behind...Chump? Is it?”

“Champ,” Remy said in an easy drawl that belied his tense stance.

“Pardon, my English isn’t that good.”

“Oh, bullshit, Cas,” Margery said, collecting herself. She wasn’t going to hide behind Remy. It was time to put on her big-girl panties and see her old lover face-to-face for the first time since she broke it off.

“I beg your pardon, my Queen, have we met?”

And that was the thing, Margery thought. What would be worse? If he remembered her and how little he’d thought of their relationship, that he never called to ask why she broke up with him. Or if he gave her that blank look he got when he knew he should remember something but couldn’t recall it.

Margery pressed her forehead against Remy for support and then gathered up her pride like a tattered cloak and stepped away from him.

Casimiro’s smarmy smile froze and then slid off him, taking the mask of the Latin lover he put on for strangers with it. His knees actually buckled, which would have been flattering if his next line wasn’t, “I’m an idiot. You were a Queen.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Remy asked.

“I have found my consort,” Casimiro said, opening his arms.

Casimiro was ridiculously attractive, with finely chiseled cheekbones and smoldering dark eyes that promised wicked delights. His black hair was always artfully tousled to fall broodingly across his face. He had a body like a dancer, and the swivel of his hips ensnared his fans almost as much as his voice. There had been a time when Margery would have run into his arms gladly. But that was a few years ago.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But not a chance in hell.”