Page 129

The buzzing roar beneath my skin quiets entirely.

“Better?” I ask, feeling her slowly relax.

“Yes.”

In some ways, it’s even scarier to know this is all it takes now. There was a time only one thing could ease the raging disquiet in my blood, the need to fuck as strong as the urge to breathe. But as we sit there, watching the sky’s fiery glow over the water, I think I might prefer this. A lot less messy.

"You didn't have to come today, so..." It's a struggle to get the words out, to let them nestle into her hair like a devastating secret. "Thanks for rescuing me." And then, as stubborn as the scent of roses clinging to her, "Even though I didn't need it."

She releases a silent laugh, like it's obvious I was hanging on by a thread. It probably was. "You're welcome. Although maybe next time, I'll wait for you to actually ask." She turns just enough to show me the pensive curve of her frown. "Everyone's gone out of their way to make it seem otherwise, but I'm starting to think we're on the same side, Wicker." She glances up, meeting my gaze. "Maybe we should start acting like it."

* * *

Like a well-oiled machine,Lex and I handle the trade-off with West End, everything going off without a hitch. The gun transaction happens quickly, loaded from one vehicle to the other, and for once, even Maddox manages to keep his mouth shut. Verity emerges from the back of the SUV appropriately dressed, with a container tucked in the crook of her arm and a baby bump that even I can’t ignore. It’s strange to think this is already becoming routine.

All but one very noticeable thing.

The anger I expect every time I see her has simmered off since Mother’s Day, a week ago. Shifted, maybe. I don’t know what she is to me now, but I can’t muster up all those bitter, burning feelings of hatred anymore.

I think I might pity her.

Not because of the parasite, or the way it was made, but because she hasn’t realized what it means yet. Even as she walks the distance from the Dukes to us, she has one hand on her belly, like she’s protecting it absentmindedly, a new habit.

She thinks she gets to care.

“Ready?” I ask as she approaches, my eyes scanning the lot.

But Lex is the one to touch her, ushering her toward the SUV with a hand on the small of her back. On the way, she shoots me a quick, conspiratorial smirk, reigniting the memory of that evening on the roof of the marina, both of us cramming sweets down our gullets.

But the thought of Lex finding out isn’t what has my stomach all twisted up. It’s the way she openly talked about Father’s demands on me, how sad she seemed for me to be in the clutches of women like Trudie.

Pity.

That’s what it was.

The things I do aren’t something I think about. We each have our roles. Our skills. We fulfill our duties to the Kingdom.

This just happens to be mine.

Verity’s comments picked at a festering wound, one I’ve kept bandaged and covered up since the age of ten. In one sugar-fueled conversation, Verity Sinclaire ripped off that bandage and let the wound ooze freely.

“What’s that?” I ask from the backseat once we’re on the road.

“Banana pudding,” she says, eyes flicking to Lex’s in the driver’s seat. She holds it a little tighter. “My mother made it for me. It’s my favorite.”

The thought of ball-busting Mama B wearing an apron and whipping up food for her daughter is laughably foreign. Maybe that’s because all we’ve ever had is Danner and a series of nameless cooks cycling through the palace.

“Never had it,” I mutter, thinking that it sounds gross, like something served at a trailer park or smelly gyms.

“Too bad,” she clutches it closer to her and smirks, “it’s delicious.”

Lex’s eyes ping between us, probably trying to figure out which to suss out first; the fact Verity is smuggling in unapproved food, or the fact she and I aren’t going for each other’s throats.

In the end, he opts to keep quiet about both.

Smart.

Her growing belly isn’t the only reminder of the way the parasite is overtaking our lives. Back at the palace, trucks take up the circular drive, their sides adorned with business names: East End Catering, Bouquets by Fran, Mercer Pyrotechnics.