Page 11

ALIX

D aemon finally lands on a grassy hill where the others are waiting, but we don’t stay there for long. The rain is still pouring and has begun to turn to icy sleet. Fortunately, we’re not far from a town and it takes only fifteen minutes to reach the lights in the distance.

“Couldn’t we fly there?” I chatter, burrowing deeper into my cloak.

“I thought you hated flying,” Daemon grumbles.

“I do, but I also hate walking, so whichever is faster…”

“We can’t,” Kastian says, when Daemon ignores me. “Fae wings only come out in particular circumstances. Life threatening situations being the most common.”

“Like fish who change color when they’re threatened,” I blurt out.

Odessa laughs loudly and throws a mocking glance at Daemon. “How does it feel to be compared to a fish?”

“You tell me. I’m not the one with a tail,” he snaps.

Her face falls, and she glances away. Clearly, he hurt her feelings.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about a lot?” I say, looking to distract Odessa.

“What?” she asks.

“You know when people say ‘it could be worse?’ Well, that’s true. It could really always get worse, I mean, what’s your husband cheating on you when you could be kidnapped? Who cares about kidnapping when you could nearly get eaten by a wolf or die in a train crash?”

“I think you’re misunderstanding that saying,” Daemon grumbles. “You’re not supposed to expect things to get worse. It’s supposed to mean that you should look on the bright side.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me what the bright side of today is, because as far as I can see, it’s pretty damn dark out.”

Daemon glares at me, but Odessa interrupts before he can retort.

“Wait, did you say ‘husband?’” Odessa asks, shooting me a surprised look. “Are you married?”

“Uh…” I falter, not having planned to have to explain this. “Kind of. Not really. It’s complicated.”

“All the best relationships are complicated,” Jett says cheerfully, swinging poor Sushi’s basket back and forth as he walks.

I stretch my hands out and make grabbing motions until he hands me the picnic basket. I peek inside to make sure the cat isn’t too traumatized, then hold the basket carefully before finally answering. “I disagree. I like things to be really simple. Fall in love, happily ever after, the end. No traumatic epilogues.”

Jett frowns in confusion. “Then why would you agree to?—”

“There’s an inn up ahead,” Daemon interrupts. “We should stop there, at least to get dried off.”

Kastian nods in quick agreement and the two of them speed up, forcing the rest of us to jog in their wake.

Soon enough we reach the town. There’s only one long cobblestone street, and perhaps thirty buildings all built extremely close together. Any other time, I would be fascinated to be here—excited, maybe. But now, I barely notice anything around me as we make a beeline for the inn.

The inn looks no different from any of the other old-fashioned houses, except there are lights on inside and loud voices echoing out into the street.

“What time is it?” I ask, glancing at the sky.

“About noon,” Odessa replies.

“And the whole town is sitting in the inn’s tavern and drinking? Don’t they have other things to do?”

Daemon grimaces as he pushes the door open and ushers me inside. “Since no one can go out when the sun is up, they’ve all gotten used to sleeping during the day. Think of this as midnight.”

My brow furrows, but I keep my questions inside as we walk in. The tavern is a large room with a bar on one side and a rickety staircase on the other. It’s filled with warm lighting and pipe smoke, and dozens of Fae chatter loudly. In the corner, there’s a tiny raised platform where a couple of musicians are seated, seemingly taking a break from playing. My heart aches with jealousy when I spot a man holding a violin.

“I want to drink my weight in ale,” Jett says.

For once, Fox shows signs of paying attention and nods in enthusiastic agreement.

“No,” Daemon barks. “We can’t stay. We’ll just get some rooms for a couple of hours to dry off and regroup.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ashwater?” Jett asks, looking dismayed. “The first tavern you’ve set foot in in ninety years and you don’t even want a drink?”

“It’s not my first tavern,” Daemon mutters, glancing sideways at me.

I feel my cheeks heat slightly. So, when we met at Ted’s, it was the first time he’d been out of prison in ninety years? Jesus Christ. No wonder he seemed so interested in me. I hate that my ego is so bruised by this revelation, but at the same time, it kind of makes sense. Daemon is a magical Adonis with wings, and I’m just…me.

“Aren’t you all forgetting something?” Odessa asks, interrupting my thoughts. “We don’t have any money. Everything we brought with us is at the bottom of the lake in the train.”

“We’re in uniform,” Daemon grumbles. “Who wouldn’t serve the king’s soldiers?”

As it turns out, this place doesn’t give two fucks about the king’s soldiers.

The bartender gives Daemon a withering look and tells him to come back with coins. For a moment, I think there’s about to be a fight, but to my relief, he walks calmly back to our group.

I guess he’s not an asshole to everyone, just to me.

“Now what?” Jett sighs dramatically. “Don’t tell me we have to go back outside.”

As if on cue, I shiver violently; the internal cold that has sunk into my bones not letting up. I am not the outdoorsy type, and trampling through the woods in the rain sounds like my own personal hell. “I’m with Jett on this one. If we have to walk the rest of the way in the rain, you may as well kill me now.”

Daemon runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I can’t conjure coins out of thin air.”

I frown, and my eyes dart over to the band in the corner. An idea occurs to me. “You can’t conjure coins, but maybe I can. I’ll be right back.”

Daemon throws out an arm to stop me. “No! You need to stay close.”

I roll my eyes. “Where are you expecting me to go? Just give me one second, I think I know a way we can stay.”

Begrudgingly, he lets me go, and I stride over to the band. As I walk, I shrug off my cloak, thinking I might do better with them if I don’t look like I just crawled out of a lake.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly.

The band looks at me, unbothered. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m human or because I’m soaking wet, but I decide to pretend I don’t notice their judgmental stares.

“Listen. I see you’re taking a break. Would you be willing to let me play a set?”

The nearest Fae male looks me up and down. “With what instrument, girly?”

I gnaw on my lip and laugh nervously. “Actually, I was hoping you’d lend me yours.”

He bursts out laughing. “I’d sooner lend you my cock to piss with.”

I sort of expected that response—if not in so many words—but this is the only idea I have to make some quick cash and I’m not giving up just yet.

“What if I give you something of mine to hold on to so I’ll have to give you the violin back.” I reach into the neck of my dress and pull out Nana’s locket. “Here, how about you hold on to this. I think it’s probably worth a lot.”

The musicians lean forward to inspect the locket in my hand. One by one, their eyes widen, and their mouths fall open. Then, without a word, the musician hands me his instrument and bow.

“Thank you!” I gush as I take the violin. “But don’t you want the necklace?”

He shakes his head. “Keep that thing hidden, girly.”

“Okay…well, thank you.”

I pluck the strings a few times and turn the pegs, tuning the strings before putting the instrument under my chin and drawing the bow in a couple of practice strokes. The instrument is a bit large for me, and it doesn’t seem that they favor chin rests in Ellender, but any instrument is better than none at all.

Suddenly feeling more confident and at home than I have in days, I jump onto the small stage and turn to face the tavern. I’m shocked to find that I already have a captive audience. Apparently as my back was turned, nearly every person in here stopped to watch the soaking wet human try to bargain with the band.

I grin at the crowd. I feel like I should introduce myself but I don’t know what to say, so instead I decide to treat this like playing on the street corner and just begin. I bring the bow to the strings and draw it back, letting the first notes of the theme song from A Kingdom of Thorns burst forth.

The tavern listens, swaying slightly, but the reaction to the song isn’t nearly as enthusiastic as it would be back home. Unfortunately, I’m probably the only person in this entire world who understands how funny it is to play this particular song in this tavern. Oh well.

I skip the last verse and meander into another familiar tune, this one with a much livelier tempo. People clap along now, and by the time I’ve played for ten minutes, there’s a small stack of coins at my feet.

Giddy, I close my eyes, letting the music take over. Each note is like a wave, carrying away any worries or negative thoughts and replacing them with pure joy. The room seems to come alive, the walls vibrating with the energy of the music.

I might not have any magic, but music is my magic, and it’s casting a spell over every faerie in here.

Finally, when I sense I’ve been playing long enough, I begin my final song—the lullaby Nana sang for me as a baby.

As I draw over the strings playing the opening notes, a wave of recognition ripples through the crowd. A few cheers ring, some people even jumping out of their seats with excitement. Do they know this song? Why?

Searching for an explanation, my eyes travel over to the familiar group still standing by the door. They all watch me with clear awe. Odessa especially looks enchanted, like she might open her mouth and burst into song at any moment.

I falter when my gaze clashes with Daemon, nearly missing a note. He doesn’t look happy at all. Instead, his eyes burn a hole through me, scalding me with alarming intensity. Is he mad at me? Why? Why do I care?

In less than an hour, I earn more than enough coins to pay for rooms at the inn, plus all the ale Jett can drink. I wish the crowds in Chicago were so generous, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.

Pleased with my performance, the innkeeper even offers up his son to drive us to the palace in his wagon. The only problem is, the wagon driver won’t risk traveling during the day—even if it’s raining. We agree to leave at midnight, which leaves us just over twelve hours to rest.

The innkeeper offers us six rooms on the second floor and hands me a pile of keys and gestures for us all to sit at the bar. Jett and Fox grin, and even Kastian looks pleased. Still, I can feel Daemon’s eyes boring into the back of my head and it sends shivers down my spine.

I stay for only one drink and long enough to get some sliced chicken for Sushi. Then, even though I’m pretty sure it’s only mid-afternoon, I decide to go to bed, leaving the others to their own devices in the tavern. After only a day, the backward sleep schedule and constant darkness is already disorienting. I feel jet-lagged; my body aches and the back of my eyes itch to close. When I get home, I’m taking some of my new money and checking myself into one of those fancy celebrity wellness spas.

“Want me to come upstairs with you and help with your dress?” Odessa asks.

I shake my head as I grab Sushi’s carrier from the floor beside her feet. “No thanks. I’ve been dressing myself for twenty-nine years, I think I can figure it out.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself. Just yell if you need me.”

I doubt she’d be able to hear me over the noise of the tavern and the loud voices of the men, already starting in on second and third tankards of ale. Still, I nod with gratitude.

I make my way up the rickety stairs and try my key in several locks before finding the right door. Poor Sushi is having a fit in his basket, and as soon as I close the door behind us, I let him out. He immediately leaps out onto the worn wooden floor, stretches, and hops on the bed.

“Well, Sush, at least there’s bound to be some mice here for you to chase,” I say, looking around the room with apprehension bordering on disgust.

It’s a tiny, shabby room with a single bed and only one dusty window. There’s a tiny desk and chair in the corner that look like they’re meant for a child, and the quilt on the bed is fraying at every seam. If I were at home, I’d give this place -1000 stars on TripAdvisor , but I guess I should just be grateful that I have a bed.

I strip off my still damp dress and hang it on the back of the chair, then climb into the small bed in nothing but my underwear. The darkness and the silence of the room press down on me.

This was a mistake.

I should have stayed downstairs with all the noise and distraction. Now, with no phone to scroll aimlessly or audiobook to block out my thoughts, every thought I’ve suppressed in the last few days hits me all at once.

Holy fuck. I nearly died. Twice .

If I died today, my family would never know what happened to me. I’d never get to know what it feels like to be a real grownup, and I’d never get the happily ever after that part of me still thinks is out there somewhere.

In all those fantasy books I like to read, the main characters never seem to internalize all their near-death experiences, but that is so not me. I feel like I need an emergency therapy session and a prescription for horse tranquilizers—and that’s just to deal with my impending divorce. How the fuck am I supposed to process all this when I can’t even google near death experiences? Should I be crying?

Actually, I haven’t cried at all about anything. I didn’t cry when I walked in on Ryan and Jenna. I shed a single tear asking for a divorce, but that was hardly cathartic. Then I didn’t cry when I thought I’d been kidnapped.

I roll onto my side and pull the thin quilt over my head. I blink a few times, making my eyes water, but no actual tears fall. My head feels fuzzy and too full, like I need to let out some of the pressure but for some reason the tears won’t come.

I’ve never been much of a crier, not since I was a kid and I realized that tears don’t change anything, but still…a normal person would cry right now, right?

What the hell is wrong with me?

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until my body jolts awake and I bolt upright, my heart racing and sweat covering my skin. The ghost of my scream echoes through the dark room, reverberating off the walls.

I sit in the dark, panting and shaking. Unbridled anxiety tears through me, making it feel as if the entire room is trembling. I take a few deep breaths, trying to ground myself in reality.

Just another nightmare.

I’ve never been a sound sleeper. I remember hearing as a child that adults grow out of nightmares, but that’s never been the case for me. I wake up screaming at least once a week, and every other night is a gamble. It used to drive Ryan insane, to the point that he insisted he’d rather sleep on the couch than be awoken by my terror every night.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Daemon stands on the threshold, panting. “What happened?

I blink at him in shock. He’s shirtless, his tattooed chest on full display in the dim light, and his hair sticking up at the back. Good lord, if I was looking for a distraction to snap me back to reality, this will do just fine.

“Alix, what happened?” Daemon demands again.

“Um, nothing,” I stammer, pulling my blankets up to my chin.

“You screamed.”

“I just had a nightmare,” I mumble, my face heating. “It’s not a big deal. Go back to your room.”

Daemon’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, as if he’s trying to read my mind. I shrink back, waiting for him to berate me for acting like a child and waking the entire inn, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes another step into the room and lets the door swing closed behind him. “What did you dream about?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “It was just the same dream I always have. I thought being in another world might mean I could escape it, but I guess not.”

“Tell me what it was about,” he says.

Ugh, fine. I don’t feel like arguing with him about it; I just want this interaction to end as soon as possible. “My dad died in front of me when I was a kid, okay? I dream about it sometimes. A lot of times, actually.”

His face twists into an expression I can’t read. It’s not pity…anger, maybe? But that doesn’t make any sense.

“How did he die?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It was a long time ago. Sorry I woke you.”

Daemon sucks in a frustrated breath. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, and I snort a humorless laugh. I guess he likes to ask questions but doesn’t like to answer them. Hypocrite.

For an awkward moment, we just stare at each other. Now that he’s refused to answer my question, I expect him to leave. Instead, he reaches for the desk chair in the corner and sits. Compared with his large frame, the furniture looks even more comically tiny and I almost want to laugh.

“Um, what the hell are you doing?”

He reaches into the back pocket of his trousers and pulls out what looks to be a worn set of playing cards. He raises one eyebrow at me. “Want to play?”

I reel back. “Seriously?”

“It’s better than nightmares.”

I blink in surprise. “Do you just carry cards around with you at all times?”

“Pretty much. There’s not much else to do in Dyaspora.”

His mouth tips up in a smirk and my gaze catches on his mouth. “Fine. Move that desk closer. I’m not getting out of bed.”

Huffing, he drags the desk and chair to the edge of the bed. I watch in fascination as he begins dealing two hands of cards. “Do you know how to play poker?”

“Do you?” I scoff. “That doesn’t seem like a magical game.”

“Who do you think taught the humans? Gambling is probably the second most popular Fae pastime.”

“What’s the first?”

“Seducing fair maidens.”

I choke. I think he’s joking, but with all his tattooed muscles right in front of me, I still hear his words as more of an invitation than anything else. Kill me.

“Is this normal poker?” I ask, taking a quick glance at my cards.

He smirks. “Except for the fact that we don’t have any money. You shouldn’t have let Jett order all that ale.”

“Well, I’m not playing strip poker. It would be over in one turn.”

He looks at me, his eyes flicking from my face down the length of my body and back. I think it’s the first time he realizes I’m not wearing anything but underwear beneath the thin quilt. He blinks slowly, then shakes his head as if to clear it. “Fine. We’ll just pretend, then.”

I nod, flushing. Why am I always naked around this man?

Not only that, but I’d have to be blind not to notice the way he just looked at me. It was the same look he gave me yesterday in the Summer Palace, and the other night in my Nana’s living room. Like he’s on a diet and I’m a slice of chocolate cake. Off-limits but entirely too tempting.

An excited shiver travels down my spine, but a second later, I want to smack myself. I need to get a grip. The Daemon that I met in the bar the other night doesn’t exist, and this guy in front of me right now is the magical soldier who kidnapped me and has been rude to me since the moment I woke up this morning. I mean, come on, I know my standards are a little low at the moment but I am not going to let myself obsess over a guy who can’t stop rolling his eyes at me.

We’re just going to play the game. Platonically. While he’s shirtless and I’m practically naked . Right.

Daemon finishes dealing the cards, and I fidget nervously with my hand. I’m not entirely sure of the rules, but since we’re not betting any real money, it doesn’t really matter. We play a round, and to my own surprise and delight, I win. Grimacing, he deals another hand and we play for a few minutes.

“So, are we allowed to talk during this game, or is it a quiet thing?”

He looks at me and nods as if to say, Go ahead .

Okay then. “Why were you angry when I was playing the violin downstairs?” I ask, my gaze still focused on my cards.

“I wasn’t. You’re very talented,” he says flatly, as if it’s just a fact and not a compliment.

“But you were glaring at me.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was surprised you know that song. I haven’t heard it in years.”

“My Nana’s lullaby?” I ask, confused. “Does it mean something?”

His brow furrows, then he glances away, refusing to meet my gaze. “It’s just an old song. Isabelle probably heard it here.”

“Huh. I guess I’ll add that to the list of things to ask her about when I get back.”

Daemon’s brow furrows in what looks like worry, but he doesn’t say anything.

“So if you didn’t mean to glare, which is your real personality?”

“What?”

“It’s just that you were pretty nice last night, then today, you’d think I kicked your puppy instead of literally risking my life to help you out…but now you’re being nice again? Why?”

Daemon freezes, looking up at me for a split second before his face goes blank. “I wouldn’t read too much into this, Peaches. I’m just glad to find someone else awake at this hour.”

I think he’s lying, but I also don’t know why he’d bother. It’s not like his behavior toward me gave any impression that he cares about my feelings.

I win a second hand, and he deals a third, then a fourth. “Rub some of that luck off on me,” he jokes when I win my fifth hand.

I laugh and toss my cards back onto the table at the same moment as Daemon reaches for the deck. Our fingers brush and a jolt of electricity shoots up my arm, sending shivers down my neck. My breath catches, and I look up to meet his too-green eyes.

Just like that brief moment in the train, we stare at each other. Heat pulses between us, feeling almost tangible in the air. My pulse starts pounding hard in my chest, then lower.

I’m woman enough to admit that despite everything that’s happened in the last couple of days, I’m still just as attracted to Daemon as I was sitting at the bar. Is that toxic? Maybe, but I’d hardly be the first girl to want a guy who was bad for her.

I part my lips to suck in a breath. Daemon’s eyes dilate, and I’m sure he’s thinking the same thing.

Ever so slowly, he shifts his fingers beneath mine, brushing back and forth over the edge of my thumb. Unbidden heat pools between my thighs as I recall the feel of those fingers stroking other more sensitive parts of me. I remember his mouth on my throat, his palms on my ass, fingers digging into my hips as I straddled his lap. I picture him now, throwing me onto the bed, and sinking into me again, filling me up. I lean forward and let go of the blanket so it pools around my waist.

Daemon’s eyes flick over my body before landing back on my face. His eyes linger on my lips and heat flares in his gaze.

Before I know what’s happening, his lips are on mine. My stomach flutters with a heady mix of excitement and desire as his hand cups my cheek, pulling me closer to him.

He kisses me feverishly, hungrily, and I eagerly respond, my fingers finding their way to the nape of his neck. I tug him toward me onto the bed, knocking the desk out of the way. He lands over me, hands braced on either side of my face. Then, he moves his lips away from mine and down the column of my neck.

I gasp, tingles erupting all over my body and heat pooling in my core. I drag my nails down his bare muscled chest and skate my fingers over his belt.

Without warning, he pulls away from me and jumps back. I blink, and he’s standing nearly on the other side of the room. He drags a hand over his mouth, as if to wipe away any evidence of the kiss. “Fuck. Sorry.”

The bubble of anticipation in my chest bursts, and a wave of cold washes over me. “What’s wrong?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You know what’s wrong.”

My eyes immediately fall to the thick outline of his cock straining against his pants. Okay, so I’m not losing my mind, there is something here. “Um, no, I don’t, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

He blows out a frustrated breath. “The entire reason you’re here is to try and make the king fall in love with you.”

“No, I’m here because I’m broke as fuck and I want to be able to pay for my own house and a decent divorce lawyer. I’m not really my Nana and I don’t even know King Thorne.”

“Still. This” —he points between us— “can’t happen. If I’ve been rude to you today, it’s only because I am extremely aware of how dangerous it would be to act as if we’ve even met before today. For this to work, you have to mean nothing to me.”

A sting of rejection shoots through me. I just want to feel…something. What’s wrong with that? I rise on my knees on the bed. The blanket falls away entirely. “What about before?”

He winces and looks a bit guilty for a moment before his expression goes blank. “I fucked up before. I didn’t know who you were, but that won’t matter to Thorne. He’s not the forgiving type.”

I cross my arms over my chest, letting out a frustrated breath. “So you’ve said. You know, none of you are really selling why I should want to get anywhere near the king. I’m starting to think I understand why my grandmother ran away.”

Daemon shrugs, like he has no good response to that. “I swear he won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

“I don’t know that. I don’t know anything about your king except what you’ve said.”

Daemon drinks me in with his gaze, then runs a hand through his hair, his expression one of actual pain. “You don’t really know me either, and you shouldn’t want to. I promise you, Peaches, you won’t like what you find.”

I suck in a shaking breath and blink a few times, willing myself not to say something pathetic. “Okay, I got it.” I turn away. “Sorry things got weird. Let’s pretend this conversation never happened.”

“Wait, Alix?—”

“I’m glad we got this cleared up before arriving at the palace. Now, get out. I want to catch another hour of sleep before we have to leave.”

I roll over, giving him my back. I can feel his eyes on me for a long second before the floorboards creak, and I know he’s leaving.