CHAPTER SEVEN
“You move like lightning.” Back in my suite, Terran showed me how to open the vanity mirror in the dressing cabinet and then took up a formal position standing just inside my door. “I’ve never seen anything like it. And your sister, Jade, is a warrior too?”
“Mhmm.” I’d finished my bath and was trying to get my spikes to stand up with the slimy paste that passed as hair gel in this city. “She’s different though. I’m speed and strength, Jade has powers. She can call on the strength of the gods.”
“Truth or tease?”
I giggled. Terran seemed to catch on to sarcasm rather quickly, but still couldn’t tell when I was using it or not. “Truth. She was adopted by Reign, like me, but her biological father is Castian Latheron, God of Fae gods.”
“And you know him?”
“Who, Castian? Yeah, I know him.” I flicked my way through the forest of eye pencils standing at attention and found a green one that would accent the purple of my eyes. Terran stared across the room at me, his face screwed up like he didn’t believe me. “Truth, I swear. I know Castian. When I get this all figured out and contact my Haven family, you can ask Jade.”
Terran sat up straighter. “Contact your other family? How will you do that?”
I shrugged and pushed my lips out. I found a great mango lip-gloss in my welcome basket. “Once I get my clothes back, I’ll call them on my phone. Between my genius brother Julian and Castian’s godly mojo, Talon tech works in any realm.”
Terran rubbed his palm over his mouth, looking concerned. Moving directly behind me he bent down to speak close to my ear. “You must be careful. You shouldn’t—”
“Oooo there she is.” A chorus of giggles and chatter invaded my suite. It was hard to determine how many Princesses had descended upon me since they had obviously just popped out of their genie bottles and all of them dressed and spoke exactly the same.
“Princess Grace,” one of the harem said, “these are Princesses Charity, Faith, Hope, Mercy, Peace, Purity. . .” The list went on as elegant fingers and curtsying maidens identified themselves one by one. I scanned the crowd, the vapid smiles, the flowing skirts and the ringlets bouncing against blushed cheeks. Besides them all having the same amethyst eye color as me, I couldn’t see any indication that these were my peeps. I mean . . . really?
It took about two seconds before they noticed I was still in my robe and started scrounging in my closet, picking out what I should wear to be presented to the Queen.
“Princess Love told us all about you not having a mentor.” Insert a chorus of identically pity-filled gasps. “And that you weren’t even raised as a royal?”
In that moment, I had never been so glad that Reign had raised me in my life. Thank the gods, or the Fates, or Balor or whoever connived to have me raised differently than these women. They were staring at me. I’d missed something and they were waiting for a response.
Shit.
“Of course she does, Princess Zeal,” Terran said, accepting a violet scarf from the outstretched hands of one of the blond ones. “Princess Grace was just saying how she loved the contrast of violet next to her eyes. How thoughtful of you all.”
I nodded and reached out for the embroidered scarf Terran was holding. “Yes. Thanks. It’s beautiful.” I flashed Terran an adoring smile until a familiar sensation heated my spine.
Oh, no. Not now.
With as much calm as I could fake, I grabbed Terran’s wrist and shot him an urgent look. His gaze met mine and his eyes widened. My irises would be almost completely violet by now. Shit, I should have given him a head’s up on this. Just once could I leave my freak-defect out of things?
Terran discreetly sat me back into my make-up chair and ushered the crowd out of my bathroom and toward the door. “All right ladies, Princess Grace needs to gather her composure before meeting the Queen. It’s a very exciting time and she needs to . . .”
***
From one instant to the next my consciousness transported from my suite inside the palace into a windowless room, dimly lit by the glow of pillar candles. Blue smoke rose up from a wide stone hearth to coil beneath blackened beams and what appeared to be an earthen ceiling. The sinister cloud roiled above the head of a sixty-something brunette with a hot-pink racing stripe in her hair. She tipped her head back with a glass bottle propped between red wine lips.
I sniffed cautiously. Beyond the tang of incense and the earthy musk of moss, the heady bite of alcohol filled my head. I stepped further into the shop.
The woman lowered the bottle and swallowed. Ahh, cherry brandy . . . and by the kick and burn that hit the back of my throat, it was quality stuff. I swallowed reflexively and moved toward the long wooden counter that ran the length of the room. When I got close, she clutched her hand shut and stiffened. With narrowed eyes, black in the dim cast of the candle’s glow, she swept a suspicious glare around the room.
Cool. Could she see me? No, she stared right through me into the glow of the candles beyond. After a shake of her head she took another swig and really focused on making some deposits into her mindless buzz account.
Why was I here? Usually visions showed me something important, something that needed to be stopped or interrupted: a Scourge raid on an unsuspecting village, an exiled race about to be reinstated . . . or occasionally where I left my cell phone. From time to time I got a voyeur’s look into the personal lives of the people I was close to. Sometimes real personal, but hey, I had no control. The Fates showed me what they showed me and I had no choice but to sit back and enjoy it—no matter how naked people got.
I stepped over to the sideboard on the opposite wall and snooped: candles, herbs, essential oils, charms and potions.
Wing of bat and eye of newt.
After downing the majority of her liquid relief, the numbing blanket began to settle over my bones. It did nothing to ease my mind, but interactive boozing was an unexpected perk and the tension in my muscles and bones eased. When a clock in the distance struck noon, the woman got to her feet, took a quick balance check and then brushed back the tangle of chestnut and fuchsia hair that fell behind her shoulders.
Abandoning the near-empty bottle for a freshie, she blew out the candles and scooped soil from the dirt floor with her boot to smother the fire. Straightening, she reached for the edge of a glass fronted cabinet and I expected her to pick out some kind of sleep remedy or hangover cure. She didn’t. The entire cabinet pivoted from the wall.
Behind that neat lineup of bottles, herbs and potions was a hidden door. Before I could get close enough to follow her, she slipped through the opening and pulled the cabinet to right itself against the wall.
***
“All right, Terran, here she comes.”
I followed the soothing timbre of two male voices. As they whispered, warm fingers brushed against my brow and pressed against my neck. I hated to wake up. There was an inverse relationship between the clarity of my mind and the distance between my head and the floor. When I came back from my little trips to vision-landia my head spun and I wouldn’t have the strength or the capacity to sit up.
“Lexi.” Terran’s voice was much higher pitched than usual. “Lexi wake up. Please Princess. Wake up.”
I pried at my eyes but the best I got was a weak-ass flutter before they closed again. Yep, the centrifuge had started and my brains were scrambling in a cyclone of the dizzies.
“Lexi?” The second voice was much deeper, richer. “Try to open your eyes again, Princess. Come on. Your guard heart will surely fail if you don’t come around soon.”
Poor Terran. I didn’t want him to stroke out. I tried to lift my hand but it weighed a thousand pounds. Did I manage to flex my fingers? I must have because someone clasped my palm. I tried again to open my eyes.
“Hello again. Welcome back.” It was the looker with the loose brown curls. No. In the buttery light of the gold-leafed sconces there was quite a bit of copper in his hair. Nice.
I blinked fast and swallowed hard. Gods, please don’t let me puke on him again. A low moan escaped my chest before I could stop it. I breathed deep. There it was . . . that delicious scent he had. Male spice blended with clean masculine sweat and coal smoke.
Mmm, you smell delicious.
He raised a brow and chuckled.
Shit. Did I say that out loud?
“Now Princess, would you like to sit up?” My head bobbed heavily on my shoulders as he sat me up. When I listed to the side he slid behind me, wrapped a solid arm across my collarbone and pulled me against his chest. Warmth leached from his chest to my back and everywhere else his body made contact with mine. “Better?”
I nodded. “Chocolate.”
“You’d like chocolate?”
I nodded again.
“I’ll be right back,” Terran said and disappeared in a blur.
With my eyes closed and my head cradled under Rowan’s jaw I let the world spin in whatever vortex it wanted to. After what could have been hours, but was probably only a few minutes, the worst had passed. I forced myself to give up my happy place and sit up.
“This is becoming a bad habit,” I muttered.
“Or a good one,” he smiled. It was genuine and lit his hazel eyes. “I’ve always had a bit of a white knight complex. Swooning damsels are my specialty.”
“Dream on. I’m no one’s damsel. You just happened to be—” I looked around my suite and then back at him sitting on my plush gold rug. “What are you doing here?”
“You passed out.”
“No. Not in my suite. What are you doing in the palace?”
“I was checking on one of the other Eligibles. Seems she had a nasty run in with one of her sisters and a hot iron. First degree burns to her forehead and ear.”
“Really? And they called for you?”
He narrowed his eyes. The hesitation was subtle, but after years with the Talon, I heard the lie before the words were spoken. “Seems so.”
“Don’t they have medical staff within the palace?”
He leaned forward until we were almost nose to nose. “One would hope, though I do specialize in burns. Dangerous things, straightening irons.”
The air crackled between us. “If I was intending to do damage to someone, I’d use daggers.”
A smooth brow arched as his features softened. “Right, I forgot. I brought you something.” Rowan launched to his feet in one graceful motion and strode out of my ensuite. He returned a few seconds later holding the cloth bag Stitch had given me to hold my belongings. “Peace offering. You rushed out of the townhouse so fast, you forgot them.”
Dragged out, was more like it. “Thank you.”
Rowan handed me the bag and took a step back. “It’s all there, I assure you,” he said, as I had a quick look, “leather pants, boots, a well-armored vest . . . oh, and my personal favorite.” He reached into the bag and fished out my black leopard print bra.
I snatched it from his hands and stuffed it into the depths of the bag. “You went through my stuff?”
He shrugged, unrepentant. “I was curious about the mysterious ‘missing Eligible’. The whole city is talking.”
“I honestly don’t care.”
He laughed. “Most of the Princesses—no, all of them—would die to be the talk of the city.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not much like the other Princesses if that giggling display of skirts and estrogen was any example.” With an assessing gaze, he held his hand out to help me up. Ignoring the offer, I got to my feet and moved to the living area of my suite. Those bright hazel eyes continued to scrutinize me to the point of thoroughly checking me out.
I pulled out my battle-vest and shrugged it on over the figure conforming robe.
The corners of Rowan’s mouth twitched. “Better?”
Clutching the two hilts sheathed over my navel, I drew both daggers. I flipped and turned the weapons in my palms like a bored kid with two pencils. “Better,” I said and slid the blades home.
“Interesting look.” Terran kicked the door closed behind him and strode to my side. After a quick once over, he handed me a big-as-your-head wedge of chocolate cake. “Are you well? You scared the stuffing out of me.”
I snorted, choking on the cake I’d just shoveled into my mouth. “Stuffing? Oh, man we gotta work on your warrior vocab.”
Terran’s smile was short lived before he grew serious. “Are you, Lexi? Well?”
I swallowed the chocolate ambrosia in my mouth and licked my lips. “Sure. Happens all the time. No biggie.”
“No biggie?” Terran hissed, his arms now animated and flailing in the air between us. “I thought I’d failed you on my first day as your personal guard. I thought you were poisoned . . . or dying. I didn’t know whether to call the palace medics or the guards or—”
I set the cake on the sofa table and gave Terran a hug. “Breathe, my man. I’ve heard it’s freaky to watch, but really, I’m fine. You didn’t sound the alarm, did you?”
He shook his head.
“Good. I’d like to keep my business to myself if you don’t mind. Besides, Doc Rowan was house-calling it anyway. What’s one more Princess train wreck.”
Rowan retrieved the plate and placed the cake back into my hand. “I’d hardly call you a train wreck, Princess. And if chocolate helps with the aftermath of your seizures, eat more. Doctor’s orders.”
I took another mountain of a bite and considered setting Rowan straight. Should I tell him it was a vision and not a form of some kind of epileptic shake-rattle-and-roll? Did I really need him to know about my inner freak? No. I’d tell Terran later when we were alone. Maybe the two of us could figure out what I’d seen after—
“What time is it?” I shoved my plate at Terran and checked the digital panel on the wall beside my bed. “Shit. I’m late to meet the Queen.”
I tore toward the dressing room then remembered my bag. Racing back, I grabbed my bra from the bottom and sent Rowan a warning glare as he started to snicker. “Not one word, Doc. I can cut a man’s balls off eight different ways and I’m not above doing it.”
The bastard just laughed harder.