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Lucienne swallowed, her face reddening.

“Time out,” Kian called. “Both of you.”

Vladimir and Lucienne still glared at each other, tense as steel, though Lucienne softened first. “I won’t corner Ashburn and burn the bridge. I know exactly what I’d do if anyone ever used you to get to me. There’d be no forgiveness.”

Red anger faded from Vladimir’s eyes, but bitterness remained. He tried to mask his helpless look, but Lucienne knew it too well. He hated letting her walk into danger alone.

“If you won’t go for the hostage plot, then we’ll play politics. We can use the king and the natives to force his hand,” Kian said.

The Sphinxes team had been monitoring the natives through cameras in Nirvana. Consequently they had been privy to a recent inspirational speech made by Prince Felix in the tavern. “The gods’ light does not shine as brightly as it once did because Ashburn the Extra has brought curses to Nirvana!”

“Some nights the light suddenly goes out,” someone had murmured.

“Everything went downhill after the filthy outsiders came,” said the guard who had been humiliated by Vladimir in the Fury house. “That witch queen put a spell on the kingdom.”

“The outside queen isn’t too bad, though she does have a terrible temper.” The prince turned his fire on his one true enemy. “Ashburn led the outsiders here. He betrayed us!”

“One of the most lethal weapons is to manipulate the masses and brainwash the populace by planting fear,” Kian had said as he had viewed the footage.

“That bonehead knows we can stop the king’s guards,’” Lucienne had agreed, “but we can’t stop a mass attack by the town’s civilian ‘vigilantes’ on Ashburn.”

Now Kian also wanted to make the natives threaten Ashburn, so the Fury boy would seek asylum in Sphinxes.

“Ashburn is only vulnerable when it comes to Violet and his parents,” Lucienne said. “Peder and Clement would rather die than leave their home.”

“If you’re so worried about hurting him and his folks, then you should know snatching him away will hurt them just the same,” Vladimir said coldly.

“That’s not the same. His parents lost him once, and they actually benefited,” Lucienne said, but she wouldn’t explain. Over Vladimir’s weary look she said firmly, “I’ll meet Ashburn alone, and I’ll come back to you safely.” She laid her hand on his arm, and her touch calmed him. The edge gradually eased out of his eyes. “I’ll have to borrow your motorcycle, Vlad,” she added.

“You ask too much,” Vladimir grunted. But the next day, Lucienne rode Vladimir’s motorcycle to the Fury house alone.

She brought the Furys gifts and told them she’d like to live with them for a while, to learn their customs and the tongue of Nirvana. Clement and Peder insisted on giving Lucienne their master bedroom, but Lucienne responded that she would take the spare room next to Ashburn’s.

From the absence of the auto-light that night, Lucienne knew Ashburn was inside the Rabbit Hole. Before bedtime, she shrugged off her motorcycle jacket and wool pants in favor of a ribbed top and pajama pants. The material was soft against her skin; the blend of silk and spandex allowed her to practice her nightly Tai Chi for the next hour.

When the Fury house became quiet, Lucienne snuck out of her room and slipped into Ashburn’s. Holding a specimen bag, she headed straight into the bathroom adjoined to his bedroom. She found a wooden hairbrush in the cabinet, but there wasn’t a single hair on it. She swept the flashlight over the sink, and then the floor. Everything was clinically spotless. Empty-handed, Lucienne moved back into the bedroom, hoping to find a hair or two on the pillows.

“What are you looking for, Queen Lucienne?” a voice called from the bed. “Perhaps I can help you find it?”

Lucienne jumped, almost dropping her flashlight. “Ashburn?” she asked in a small, incredulous voice, shoving the specimen bag into her pocket in a hurry.

“Who else would you expect to find in my bed?” Ashburn asked.

Lucienne turned her flashlight toward the bed.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t shine it directly into my eyes. If you need light, all you have to do is ask, nicely,” Ashburn said. The room instantly glowed with a natural, warm light.

Blushing, Lucienne turned off the flashlight. She’d never been caught spying before. Ashburn seemed to catch her every vice.

From her position in the bathroom doorway, Lucienne took in the length of Ashburn. He lay in bed, his hands crossed behind his head on two pillows. He wore a peacock blue sweater and black sweatpants. His silver hair flowed gracefully down his broad shoulders, creating an image more beautiful than any male model on the cover ofEsquire.

This was the first time she’d seen him in person since her injury three weeks ago. Lucienne was suddenly self-conscious about dressing in her pajamas as his ice blue eyes roved over her.

Then, before she could stop herself, she advanced toward him, acquiescing to her urge to get closer to him, envisioning herself tracing the outline of his beautiful lips before resting her head in the crook of his strong shoulder.It’s the pull. It’s manipulating me again.Lucienne stopped in her tracks. It was getting harder to depriveherself this pleasure, let alone enduring the throbbing heartache every time she resisted the pull. She tugged at the hem of her pajama top. “When . . .” she stuttered, “when did you get in?”

“A while ago. I was napping.”

“Oh, sorry. But why didn’t you announce yourself?”