Page 15

DAEMON

“ Y ou don’t need to attend dinner with Thorne tonight.”

Alix looks up from her breakfast and cocks her head, her brow furrowing. “Why?”

“He’s leaving the palace for a few nights. It looks as if it’s going to snow, so he’s clearly taking advantage of that to travel during the daytime.”

“Oh.” She shrugs. “Okay, whatever.”

Alix and I are sitting in one of the parlor rooms that is somewhere between a dining room and a lounge. I’m watching her eat breakfast and trying not to stare too much at her mouth every time she licks strawberry juice off her full bottom lip.

It’s been two nights since the argument in the hall and we’re both pretending it never happened. I still don’t have any fucking idea how things got so heated. I barely remember what was said, but I do remember Alix complaining that she’s bored.

I know I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. I don’t need to keep her entertained, I need to keep her alive. Still, I find myself trying to think of things to do with her, and justifying why Alix should be able to mingle with the court—at least, in a controlled setting.

Which is how I ended up bringing her to the parlor for breakfast. Many of the courtiers take their meals in the parlor, and we’re drawing stares from other tables as Alix eats. I’m already wondering if I made a mistake.

“So where’s the king going?” Alix asks, swallowing a gulp of coffee.

“That’s a good question. I don’t know.”

“Really? Shouldn’t you know as the captain of his guards?”

I shrug. She’s probably right, but I can’t pretend I really care where Thorne is going or why. I can’t seem to make myself care about anything lately; my head is too full of Alix.

She said something the other day about only caring for men who think about no one but her.

I don’t think she knows what she’s asking for.

I don’t understand what’s happening to me or how it started. I can only assume that it’s a proximity issue—I’m forced to spend all my time guarding Alix, and therefore I can’t focus on anything else.

Except that doesn’t explain the insane rage that came over me when Foulo grabbed her, or how I’m jealous of my own friends for watching her when I was the one who asked for their help. It doesn’t explain the all-consuming terror of realizing I couldn’t find her the other day, or how I can’t stop fixating on the memory of burying myself inside her tight little?—

“Good morning, Lady Isabelle!”

Alix drops her fork against her plate with a loud clang, and I jump, abruptly coming to attention. “Fuck!”

Alix barely spares me a glance, before looking up at the woman running across the parlor toward our table. Claudette darts toward us, holding her mint green dress off the ground. Behind her, I see her sisters hovering near the door. I nod once to them before turning my attention back to Alix.

“Good morning,” Alix says stiffly.

Claudette stops beside the table and dips into something resembling a half-curtsey before straightening. “I’m so glad to see you this morning. I wanted to apologize for the other day.”

Alix’s expression stays neutral. “Why?”

“I should have immediately greeted you and introduced myself, of course.” Claudette smiles, and I feel her look sideways at me. “I was just so excited, it’s been years since we’ve seen each other.”

There’s a long silence. I know this is my cue to say something, but I don’t want to. I don’t care about being polite to Claudette, and I’m not about to do something that will start another argument with Alix. Especially not here, with so many eyes on us.

“It’s fine,” Alix says, filling the silence. “You were busy.”

There’s that word again. Busy.

“Have you finished with your breakfast?” Claudette asks, turning her body slightly so it’s clear she’s addressing both of us. “My sisters and I were just going to sit down. We’d love if you joined us.”

“We can’t,” I snap.

“Oh?” Claudette pouts. “Why not?”

“Yeah,” Alix says suspiciously. “Why not? It’s not like I have anything else to do except sit alone in my room.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” Claudette cries dramatically. “You should be socializing with the court. Here, let me?—”

“No!” I snap, and all chatter in the room stops.

Fuck .

“Everything okay, Baron Ashwater ?” Alix says, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.

I grind my teeth. No, everything is not alright and I’m not even sure why. I have no fucking idea what’s wrong with me except that the woman sitting across from me is clearly sapping me of whatever shreds of sanity I didn’t lose in Dyaspora.

I turn to Claudette. “Lady Isabelle has things to attend to this morning. Er, wedding preparations…”

“Oh, alright,” Claudette says, looking wounded. “Well, if either of you change your mind, we’ll be over by the window.”

I don’t react as she turns and walks back over to her sisters. Alix waits all of two seconds for Claudette to be out of earshot before leaning across the table toward me. “Why don’t you want to talk to her?”

“Because I’m talking to you.”

She rolls her eyes. “What about yesterday? You had a lot to talk about then.”

“No, I didn’t. I spent two minutes being polite to someone I haven’t seen in years, and you were gone. I spent nearly an hour running all over the fucking castle because you decided to storm off without telling me where you were going.”

The apples of her cheeks flush slightly. “Oh.”

My scowl deepens. Yeah, oh .

I’m not completely oblivious. Clearly, Alix thinks I ignored her the other day in favor of Claudette, but not only is that wrong, I’m having a hard time believing that Alix is actually jealous.

Actually, that’s not it at all.

I can easily imagine how Alix might feel because I’ve never been jealous of anyone in my damn life until this week. Suddenly, I want to tear my hair out every time I have to watch her eat dinner with Thorne or smile at one of my friends, and that’s far fucking crazier than her being bothered by Claudette.

Except, I can’t let myself think about that.

Because if Alix is jealous too, then I’m not alone in this. And once I start thinking about that, I’ll remember how she looked at me in the hallway the other night, or how I could smell her arousal in that inn…and that’s a dangerous damn path to go down.

I can’t touch Alix; I can’t even look at her.

Even if I want to.

Even if she wants me to.

“I think she wants you to follow her,” Alix mutters under her breath.

I look up. “What? Who?”

She jerks her head to the left, and I follow the movement. Across the room to the left, Claudette is hovering in the doorway. She’s walking so hilariously slowly that it will probably take her ten minutes to walk five yards.

I chuckle under my breath and look down at the table in front of me. Fuck, this whole thing is so twisted. If anyone is fixating on Claudette, it’s not me; it’s Alix.

“Well?”

“Well what?” I press.

“She clearly wants you to follow her and say you’re sorry that you can’t spend time with her this morning.”

“So?”

“So…are you going to?”

“No. Why would I? You’re not done eating.”

She harrumphs and takes another bite of her eggs.

I meet Alix’s gaze. She looks…nervous, and suddenly I feel bad for not being more clear with her. I keep forgetting that her marriage just fell apart due to infidelity. Maybe this isn’t even about me. Maybe she’s not jealous at all and I’m just projecting what I want to see onto her.

I shouldn’t be thinking about this.

“Are you finished?” I ask her shortly. “We should go.”

Alix puts her half-eaten toast down and rolls her eyes. “Oh goodie, can’t wait to get back to my gilded cage.”

I make a split second decision without thinking it through. “We’re not going back to your room. I have work to do this morning, and you’ll join me.”

“What kind of work?”

“Does it matter? I thought you were bored.”

She raises a surprised eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you cared.”

I shake my head. “There’s a lot of things you don’t seem to realize, Peaches. And I don’t know whether I should be thanking the fucking gods for that or shaking you until you understand.”

ALIX

As soon as I’m finished eating, Daemon ushers me out of the parlor and down a seemingly endless flight of stairs.

“So what work do you have to do?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he grumbles. “Normally, I’d have to go back to the barracks and keep the soldiers in line, but my only job lately is watching you.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

“We’re going into the city,” Daemon says after a few moments.

“Why?”

He looks sideways at me, his expression somewhere between bored and smug. “You’ll see, Peaches.”

I shiver slightly at his use of the nickname I hate.

Sort of hate.

Okay, I don’t really hate it at all.

“I don’t like surprises,” I warn him.

“It’s not a surprise, I’m just making shit up as I go along,” he says flatly.

I furrow my brow. I’m not sure if that’s true, because Daemon seems pretty sure of himself as he leads me through the entrance hall and outside onto the top of the long stone steps that I haven’t seen since we arrived. Then again, he always seems sure of himself. Must be fucking nice.

Outside, the wind is bitterly cold, but at least it’s not snowing. The twinkling lights of the city are beautiful, and as I glance up, I’m startled to see thousands of stars twinkling at me.

I point up at the sky as we begin our descent down the long stairs. “I wonder if these are the same stars that are on Earth or different ones.”

Daemon tilts his head back and pushes his hair out of his eyes to better see what I’m talking about. After a second, he lets out a harsh breath. “I never thought about it.”

“Maybe they’re the same, but in a different timeline.”

“What?”

“You know, like a string theory thing. What if all the worlds are next to each other. Or maybe this world is inside the other one. Ooh, if I walk through a bookcase, do you think I’ll see Matthew McConaughey?”

Daemon is fully laughing now. “I don’t understand half of what you say, Peaches.”

I grin. “Likewise.”

Yet weirdly, I don’t feel like it’s hard to communicate. If anything, it’s too easy.

“I thought it was supposed to be snowing,” I say quickly, glancing up at the sky again.

Daemon shrugs and looks up too, following my gaze. “I guess not. Thorne won’t be able to travel during the day. That probably means he’ll be gone an extra night…What a shame.”

I look sideways at Daemon and find him grinning widely. “Why do you hate him so much?”

He looks affronted. “Have you met him?”

“Yes…and that’s just it. He’s not exactly my favorite person in the world, but he doesn’t seem like a monster.”

His smile slips. “You don’t understand.”

“Obviously!” I almost laugh. “So explain it to me.”

“No. Not now. We’re almost at the bottom, look.” He points ahead of us, where indeed there are only a dozen or so steps left. Beyond the stairs, the town is just as busy as the night we arrived, with pedestrians, merchants and even some soldiers flooding the streets.

Daemon grips my elbow tightly and pulls me closer as we merge with the teeming crowd.

“Stay close to me. I don’t want you getting lost.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”

His eyes flash with something like interest and he grips my arm tighter. “Say that again.”

I flush and stumble over my words. “I-I just mean I’m not a toddler. I don’t need to hold your hand in the crowd, and I can walk perfectly fine on my own.”

“Right. Fair enough.” He lets go of my arm, but leans closer to whisper in my ear. “But be careful what you call me, Peaches. Next time you say something like that, I’m going to take it as an invitation to spank you.”

Um, yes please? Fucking go for it. I would have zero objections to anything Daemon wanted to do to my ass.

…But of course I don’t say that. Because we’re in the middle of the street and apparently the logical side of my brain hates me.

Daemon steps back as if nothing unusual happened and strides off in the direction of the shops. He doesn’t reach for me again, and as I hurry to keep pace with him, part of me wishes I hadn’t said anything. Which is stupid because like I just said, I’m a goddamn adult. I don’t need to be getting butterflies over holding hands. Jesus Christ.

Unlike the first time we walked through the city, I’m not quaking with anxiety and I actually have time to stop and look around. It seriously looks like Santa’s elf village, with dozens of gray brick buildings with thatched roofs and merrily smoking chimneys. Outside every house is a flickering oil lantern, and even more lanterns line the sidewalks warding off the oppressive winter darkness.

As we walk, various people shout greetings at Daemon. Especially the other soldiers are eager to wave hello.

“It’s like walking the red carpet with a celebrity,” I mumble under my breath.

Daemon looks at me. “What?”

“Everyone knows you. I thought you’d been gone for decades.”

As if on cue, he raises a hand to wave at some grinning merchants, before focusing back on me. “I have been, but it’s not as if there’s been a lot of change in the population since I’ve been gone.”

I want to ask about that. The entire town is seriously exactly the same as it was 90 years ago? And even if that’s true, why is he so damn popular? But I don’t get the chance because at that moment Daemon stops in front of a stone house on the corner with a bright green front door and stands back for me to enter in front of him. I open my mouth to ask where we are, but close it again as my eyes go wide and my question is answered for me.

“Oh my God. Is this a magic craft store?”

“You have to stop assuming everything is magical,” he says without any real bite to his tone. “It’s just a regular craft store.”

I reach out and grab a ball of yarn from the display table to my right. The yarn is actively changing color, and as I hold it, the fibers blend from blue to purple to pink right before my eyes. “What do you call this, if not magic?”

Daemon presses his lips together and just shakes his head. I grin. I take it that I won that round.

“Good evening!” an elderly female voice calls from the back of the shop. “Let me know if there’s anything you need help with.”

“Thank you,” Daemon replies, raising a hand to wave at the shop owner.

“What are we doing here?” I ask excitedly, still looking around at everything. I feel like a kid walking into Wonka’s chocolate factory.

“You said you were bored,” Daemon says flatly, looking almost embarrassed. “Is there something you might want to do here? Do you paint or something?”

“Um, no I don’t paint, but I would definitely be into magical rainbow crochet. I don’t have any money, though.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Just pick out whatever you want.”

I beam. If he thinks I’m going to argue with him about that just to be polite, he’s crazy. I’m about to have such a Veruca Salt moment. Daddy, buy me the magic craft store.

Fifteen minutes later, we leave the shop with several bags of color changing yarn and various crochet hooks and knitting needles.

“I’m going to make a scarf first, just to remember how to do this. It’s been years since I crocheted.”

Daemon looks down at the paper bag in his hand. “You could make twenty scarves with all this.”

“Maybe I will. I’ll make one for everyone. It’s not like I have much else to do.”

He presses his lips together, looking like he’s fighting a smile. “If I’d realized you were so easy to please, I would have done this days ago. It would have saved everyone a headache.”

I glare at him, but can’t quite work up the energy to be actually mad. Not when I’m in such a good mood after so long. “I am genuinely excited about this, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“The only thing that would make me happier is if there’s a music store around here. If you could get me a new violin, I wouldn’t just let you spank me, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

He stiffens, and I falter, realizing what just came out of my mouth.

Oh God. What is wrong with me? I don’t say things like that, especially not out loud!

Kill me.

Actually, please, let a meteor fall out of the sky and squish me right here because I cannot handle the level of cringe I feel right now.

Daemon stops walking in the middle of the street and turns to me, ignoring the fact that there are dozens of people all around us. He looks me over, his too intense gaze seeming to see more than what’s in front of him, stripping me bare and scorching me from the inside out. His fist tightens around the handle of the shopping bag. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I’ve never wanted to know anything more in my entire life.

“There’s no music store,” Daemon says flatly.

I gnaw on my lip. “Bummer.”

My mind races, grasping for something—anything—to say that might bring back the easy mood from mere seconds ago. For once, Daemon had been normal. Nice. Like he was when we first met at Ted’s. And for my part, I was almost… happy. Not just because I got presents—though that didn’t hurt—but because, for a fleeting moment, I forgot about all the terrifying and downright shitty things that had happened to me this week. I forgot to pretend to be Nana or Rose. I was just having fun. But then I had to go and ruin it.

I’m seriously considering flinging myself into the nearest lake, when somehow the mood gets worse.

“Ashwater,” a snide voice calls from somewhere behind me. “What are you doing with Lady Isabelle?”

Daemon stiffens once more, his hand flying to the hilt of the sword in his belt. I turn around nervously.

Foulo is pushing his way through the crowd to reach us, his red military jacket and bulging muscles immediately recognizable.

I glance nervously between the two men. I’m not sure if this is the first time they’re seeing each other since whatever the hell went on in the throne room, but I really don’t want a fight to break out in the middle of the street. Once was kind of hot, but again? No thanks.

To my relief, Daemon’s posture relaxes and his voice is even when he finally reacts. “Foulo. I thought you went with the king.”

His expression sours. “And likewise, I assumed you would be traveling with him. You’re the captain now, after all.”

Daemon jerks his head toward me. “I have other priorities.”

Foulo turns his gaze on me, and his sneer remains firmly in place. “Doing some shopping, my lady?”

I nod. “Is that a crime or something?”

He shakes his head. “I just seem to recall that you valued frugality.”

I shrug. “People can change in sixty years.”

He purses his lips. “Clearly.”

A shiver travels up my spine. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. The friendly eagerness of the other day is completely gone, and now he just seems suspicious. Maybe getting his ass kicked in front of the entire court turned him against me as well as Daemon. Shame.

“Well, if that’s all,” Daemon says in a clipped tone. He reaches out and grips me by the elbow.

Foulo’s eyes immediately fall on Daemon’s fingers on my arm and his scowl deepens. I get the feeling Daemon is doing it on purpose to fuck with Foulo, and I’m totally on board with that sort of non-violent pettiness. I smile sweetly and let Daemon turn me around to head back toward the castle steps.

“Actually, that wasn’t all I had to say,” Foulo calls after us.

Daemon looks over his shoulder. “What?”

“I just got word of a pack of wolves running far too close to the city limits. Someone needs to go out there and deal with them before they get bold enough to start attacking people.”

I grimace, thinking of the enormous wolf in the woods of the Summer Palace. An entire pack of those things in the crowded city? Yeah, that sounds like it’s going to quickly turn into “My grandma, what big teeth you have.”

“So,” Daemon says. “Are you going to go deal with it?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one to go, Commander?” Foulo replies snidely.

Unconsciously, Daemon’s fingers tighten on my arm. “I’m busy, and anyway, any first-year recruit could take care of a few wolves.”

Foulo shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels. “Suit yourself. Obviously, you can order anyone to go, but if it were me, I’d do it myself. You’ve been gone a long time, and those first year recruits you just mentioned don’t trust you yet. It will only get worse if they think you’re not willing to put yourself in danger. Just some friendly advice.”

Daemon scowls, but when I catch his eye, I know he’s considering it.

“I have to take Al—Isabelle back to the palace first.”

“I can take her,” Foulo offers.

“No!” Daemon and I snap in unison.

I look up at him, flushing slightly. “Sorry, I mean, I can go back on my own. It’s a ten-minute walk.”

Daemon grinds his teeth. “No, I’ll take you and then go deal with this.”

“Splendid,” Foulo says, gleefully. “Good to have you back, Commander.”

“I’m assuming Foulo is right? About the soldiers, I mean.”

Daemon holds the front door of the castle open for me, his jaw tight and eyes narrowed with frustration. “Yes,” he grumbles, as I duck under his arm and cross the threshold into the entrance hall. “Foulo is a fucking prick, but he’s not a bad soldier…usually. And he’s right about this. A commander shouldn’t send anyone to do a job they’re not willing to do themselves.”

I gnaw on my lip, thinking. “Not to sound paranoid, but I think he has an ulterior motive.”

“So do I, Peaches.”

My eyes flick excitedly up to his. “What do you think it is?”

“No idea. It could be as simple as he was expecting me to say no and then he could turn the barracks against me.”

“But everyone seems to love you.” I bite my lip. “I mean, do you really think the soldiers will care about such a small thing?”

He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m not sure it matters. There’s only two weeks left of having an army anyway, and even if there were no curse, I doubt Thorne will let me stay in the palace long enough to really fall back into my role. But it’s still the right thing to do. I can kill those wolves in minutes, while newer soldiers could get hurt.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” he says, clearly missing my attempt at humor.

“Your humility is inspiring.”

“It’s not arrogance, it’s just fact. The curse has sapped a lot of magic from the kingdom, making the army far weaker than it once was. I had more magic than the rest of them to begin with, so I’m still twice as strong as anyone else…except Thorne, maybe.”

We reach the top of the steps and walk through the front doors and across the entrance hall. It’s empty, and we don’t encounter anyone on the familiar path to my room.

“I won’t be gone for long,” Daemon says when we reach my door. “It’s only a few hours until daylight, and I’ll have to be back before then. Still, I’ll send Kastian to sit outside until I get back, but you should lock your door anyway.”

I take the bags of yarn from him and open the door to my room, lingering for a moment on the threshold. It’s stupid, but I almost feel like he’s dropping me off after a date…

I turn around and tilt my chin up to meet his gaze. “Well, thanks for the first not terrible day since I’ve been here. Even if it was cut short.”

He looks down at me with that intense look I’ve seen a few times now. I feel my skin heat under the weight of his gaze, and goosebumps erupt across my neck and arms. My tongue darts out to lick my lips, and his eyes track the movement closely, his attention fixed on my mouth.

He leans closer, and his scent envelopes me.

My lips part.

I close my eyes…

Daemon steps back sharply, running a hand through his hair. The spell breaks. “Lock your door,” he repeats, then turns to walk away without another word.

With a sigh, I step into my room. Jesus Christ…

Sushi is sleeping on the end of my bed, and at the sound of the door closing behind me, he lifts his fluffy gray head and gives me an imperious yellow stare.

“Well, Sush, I think I’m fucked,” I mumble as I put the bag of rainbow yarn down on the floor beside the door.

Only a few days ago, I had no idea what Daemon was thinking and barely believed him when he said he would protect me. Now, I have no doubt in my mind that he’s serious.

As long as he’s around, I don’t need to be afraid of the curse or the Fae or even creeps like Foulo. Daemon won’t let anyone hurt me—physically, anyway.

But emotionally is another story.

I’m pretty sure I’m already doomed to get hurt—destroyed, even. My feelings are bound to crash and burn like our train car, and this time, there’s no jumping off.