Page 31

Cate

A new day pulled me from a deep and satisfied sleep, my body pleasantly sore in all the right places. I stretched, my hand coasting over a smooth, muscled back, and my new ring sparkled as the sunlight streaming through the windows caught the diamond.

“Like it?” Lach asked in a gruff voice, one eye peeking open from where his face was still half buried in his pillow.

I shimmied closer, tucking my body against his. “I still think it’s ridiculously big.”

“Like you said, it can double as a weapon.” He shifted, his low chuckle turning into a yawn as he took my hand and studied the engagement ring. “Ten bucks says that Ciara will think I should have gotten you a bigger one. I can, if you want.”

“No way.” I snatched my hand from him and cradled it protectively between my breasts. “I’m keeping this one—”

A frown creased his lips. “Speaking of, about your mother’s—”

The bedroom door burst open, cutting him off. “Rise and shine, lovebirds!” Ciara clapped her hands. She sashayed to the windows and drew the curtains back. “Everyone is on their way.”

I bolted upright, clutching the sheet to my chest. “What? Why?”

“Not sure. I was told we were meeting.” She planted a hand on her hip, an impish grin lighting her face. “Maybe it’s to discuss noise complaints. People could probably hear you two all the way in Fontainebleau last night!”

Lach groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow again. “What have I said about boundaries?”

“I can’t recall. Maybe we need to put a soundproof ward around your quarters.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Now get your lazy asses out of bed before we have company.”

She smacked the edge of the mattress on her way out, shutting the door with a blown kiss.

My stomach sank. Company? Discussions? Did it ever stop? After the killer was caught, I thought we might have had a minute to ourselves. But no. It was another day, which meant another crisis. I slid out of bed, keeping the sheet wrapped around me as I hunted for fresh clothes in the armoire.

But Lach didn’t bother to cover up. Not that I was complaining. He swaggered over, bypassing his usual clothes and opting for a black silk robe. I blinked in surprise as he slid it on.

“What?” he asked as he knotted the belt around his lean waist.

“I’ve never seen you so casual when there’s business to be done.” The man put on a suit to go to the bathroom.

“Who said anything about business?”

He was out the door before I could demand to know what was going on. I tugged on leggings and an oversize sweater, finger-combed my sleep-tousled hair, and padded out barefoot after him. Ciara perched on the arm of the leather sofa, sipping a cappuccino. Its scent curled toward me, and I nearly stole it. After last night, I could use the jolt.

Lach was seated nearby, still looking remarkably relaxed. But Roark, Shaw, and Channing were lined up in a row by the door, looking anything but calm.

“Look who decided to join us,” Ciara said in a singsong voice.

Shaw shifted, sharing an uncomfortable look with my brother. “Will someone please tell us what’s going on? Lach, you don’t just send a text in the middle of the night that there’s something urgent to discuss in the morning and then not respond.”

I frowned, swiping the cappuccino from Ciara’s hands. She let out a cry of protest. “Sorry,” I said, stealing a sip before she took it back. “Something tells me that I’m going to want to be caffeinated for this.”

But Lach turned to Roark. “Did you get what I asked?”

“It’s right here,” Roark said, holding up a brown paper bag. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he looked from Lach to me and back again. “Why do we need it?”

The floating euphoria I’d felt since the proposal popped like a soap bubble. One day. We couldn’t have one freaking day without something going terribly wrong. My shoulders sagged under the weight of new dread. What fresh hell awaited us now?

“Might as well get this over with.” He nodded to his penumbra.

Roark reached into the bag and pulled out a dark-green bottle. “As requested.”

I stared in confusion. Champagne?

Lach stood and took the bottle from Roark with a grin. “Thank you.” He turned to face the others, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. “We have an announcement to make.”

“Oh my gods.” Ciara set her cappuccino on the side table with a dramatic clink . “Out with it already!”

Lach lifted our joined hands, the diamond on my finger catching the light. “Cate and I are engaged.”

For a split second, I might have heard a pin drop in the stunned silence—until Ciara let out an earsplitting shriek.

Lach winced and rubbed an ear. “I’m pretty sure they heard that all the way in Texas.”

She ignored him, leaping up and nearly tackling us. Over her shoulder, Shaw whispered something to Channing, and my brother forced a smile. I wasn’t sure why this was such a surprise to everyone, except maybe that it had happened so fast. Neither of our brothers knew we were mates. I’d drop that bombshell on Channing later. This was enough for him to digest for the time being.

When Ciara finally released us, she grabbed Roark’s arm. “I told you!”

“We all saw it coming,” Roark muttered, glancing at her hand with wide eyes. “Should I open the champagne?”

Ciara shuffled back a step as a faint blush colored her cheeks. “Good idea.”

Roark looked relieved to be assigned a new task.

Whipping toward me, she reached for my hand. “Let me see the ring.” She admired the glittering diamond, her mouth pursing into a pouty bow. “It could be bigger.”

“Told you,” Lach whispered under his breath.

A loud pop interrupted Ciara’s analysis, and I startled. But a moment later, a champagne flute was being pressed into my hand. Roark passed one to Ciara, and she clinked it against mine. “To true love,” she said with a wink, adding, “and to think that you used to hate him.”

“‘Hate’ seems like a strong word.” Lach frowned as he took a sip.

“Oh, she hated you.” Ciara beamed up at him. “Is that why you got her such a puny ring?”

“I’ll be right back.” I left Lach to explain that I was perfectly happy with the small asteroid he’d given me and strode toward our brothers.

“Congratulations,” Shaw said, giving me a hug.

I stared over his shoulder at Channing as we pulled apart. “Not going to say anything?”

His jaw worked for a second before he mumbled, “I’m happy for you, too.”

He sounded like he was offering his condolences.

“Thanks.” But my words were forced. I wanted him to be happy for me.

We both drank our champagne in silence. It was too early in the morning for booze or drama. Channing seemed to think the same, because he downed his in a single gulp. “We need to meet Dante,” he said to Shaw before turning to me. “Sorry to run.”

I waved him off. “Be careful.”

I still wasn’t happy that he was hanging out with a vampire.

“I wish you would give him a chance.” Channing shot a meaningful glance across the room at Lach.

Point taken.

I sighed. “Bring him around sometime.”

His brows rose, but he inclined his head. “I will.”

Channing headed toward the door, and I wondered if he would ever get used to this. I hadn’t done enough to make him feel comfortable in this world. I’d been too caught up with the business of the ring and the bona fides and the murders. That needed to change, especially if I was marrying Lach. He needed to feel like part of the family, too.

“He’ll come around,” Shaw said. His gaze dipped to the floor. “He’s just worried Lach doesn’t deserve you.” Something in his voice told me that was a feeling he shared.

But before I could say anything, Ciara jumped between us. “We need to go dress shopping! Today. Right now.”

Shaw waved as he backed out of the room, fleeing before his sister activated full wedding-planning mode.

I looked at Lach helplessly as Ciara pulled out her phone. He just shrugged and mouthed, Better you than me.

“I might want a shower,” I told her.

She nodded, her phone already pressed to her ear. Seizing Lach’s arm, I dragged him toward the bedroom.

Ciara covered her phone and called after us, “Don’t take too long.”

Lach was still laughing as I shut the door behind us and slumped against it. I’d never seen him like this before—so light, not a single shadow lurking in his eyes. It soothed my jangled nerves enough for me to smile.

But Ciara knocked on the door before I could catch my breath. “They can do a private appointment this afternoon.”

I tried to muster as much enthusiasm as I could as I called through the door. “Great!” I lowered my voice. “Is it just me, or are things moving at warp speed here?”

Darkness crept over his features. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No! God, no. Never.” I shook my head. “I’m ready to be married to you. I just… I’m not sure I’m prepared for the full Princess Diana wedding extravaganza your sister seems ready to plan.”

He prowled closer and planted a hand on either side of me. “What if we ditched them and went down to the courthouse right now? We could be married before lunch.”

I laughed, only half sure he was joking. “Don’t tempt me.” Avoiding a full-blown fae wedding was my dream scenario. “But I’m pretty sure Ciara would hunt us down and drag me to that boutique by my hair if I tried to bail.”

“So, no cold feet, then? You’re just trying to get out of shopping with my sister.” Lach shook his head in mock disapproval.

I was already exhausted from the night before. “I don’t know where fae get their stamina,” I muttered, “but your sister uses hers shopping.”

He kissed my forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you later using mine.”

“You’d better.” My toes curled at the thought. I sighed, resigning myself to an afternoon of silk and tulle. “I better get in the shower before she breaks down the door to find out what wedding colors we want.”

But a slow smirk spread across his face. “How about I give you an early demonstration of my stamina?”

I fluttered my lashes, pretending to be put out. “If you must.”

Lach swept me up and threw me over his shoulder, playfully swatting my rear. “You’re going to be the death of me, princess.”

For once, he sounded pretty pleased about it.

I felt like I’d been ushered into heaven—if heaven came with what were sure to be jaw-dropping price tags. Creamy wallpaper with hints of gold softened the walls, chandeliers dripped crystals overhead, and, of course, there was more champagne. But the showpieces were the gowns lined up in rack after rack of lace, silk, and tulle. The shop, Blanche, had closed early for the day to allow us a private shopping experience, and the sales associate flitted around, fawning over us like a guardian angel. My stomach did a nervous little flip as she appeared with yet another gown strewn across her arms.

The champagne fizzed over my tongue, and I willed its bubbles to help ease my queasiness.

“What about something like this?” Ciara turned around, clutching a lace gown trimmed with white fur.

I wrinkled my nose. “It’s a bit much.”

She pivoted to the mirror, fiddling with its trim, a dreamy smile on her face. “But if you get married around Yule…”

“Yule?” I didn’t need anyone to translate that fae holiday. My stomach cramped at the idea of being married in just over a month. “Isn’t that kind of fast? We’ve been engaged for like ten seconds.”

“I just thought…” She trailed away, her mouth pressing into a tight line.

My brows creased at the obvious shift in her tone. “You thought what?”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror’s reflection, something flashing through them before she returned to studying the dress with a bit too much interest. There was no mistaking the hollow pain I’d seen for that split second. “I thought you might want to do it sooner, since…”

“Fiona is going to find something,” I said firmly. Even Sirius had said that they would. “We don’t need to plan a shotgun wedding.”

She rolled her eyes as she hung the dress back on the rack. “No one said anything about that.” But she frowned as she chose another one and held it up for my appraisal. “Although everyone will probably be heavily armed.”

My fiancé included.

“What about this one?” she asked.

Something told me this shopping trip wouldn’t be over until I’d picked one.

This dress was simpler, a silk A-line with cap sleeves that flowed into a short train, but I found myself shaking my head. My stomach did another tumble, the squeezing sensation moving lower. This was something more than nerves or excitement. “I think I need to use the bathroom. I don’t feel so good.”

And a minute alone.

But Ciara hung the dress back up and dutifully followed behind. The ladies’ room was elegantly decorated in shades of creamy white with enough stalls to accommodate half a wedding party. At least I would have some privacy. I tossed her my purse as I rushed for the nearest one. “You don’t look so good.” A smile lit up her face as she caught my bag. “Wait. Should this be a shotgun wedding?”

She slipped her signet ring off with an excited squeal. “Roark doesn’t need to hear about this,” she explained. “It will make a better surprise!”

I frowned at the implication, holding up a hand to stop her before she joined me in the bathroom stall. “I got this part myself.” I shut the wooden door and locked it, swearing I could hear her pout. Fae might not have boundaries, but I did. “And there better not be a need for a shotgun wedding.”

Now I really did feel like I was going to throw up. We had enough to worry about.

“But you two would have such cute—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” I cut her off as I slid my panties down and discovered the reason for my stomach’s sudden theatrics. “Welp, I’m sorry to tell you that you are definitely not going to need a shotgun. My period started. Can you check my bag? I probably have something in there.”

“Sure.” Her disappointment radiated through the bathroom stall. Ciara might be let down, but I was relieved. Now was not the time to bring a tiny fae-human hybrid into the world. No matter how cute Ciara thought one would be. It might never be the right time, and I was a-okay with that.

“I’m not seeing anything.” I heard her digging around. “Are you sure?”

“I should.” Except that it wasn’t my purse, full of my shit. It was one of the ridiculous affairs Lach had given me so I could carry a gun for protection. So, of course, I didn’t have what I actually needed: a freaking tampon. But the cramps were beginning to subside as if they’d only started to keep me from ruining a wedding dress. Another small mercy. Maybe fate was on our side at last. I finally had the right ring on my finger, I wasn’t pregnant, and I hadn’t turned the pristine bridal showroom into a horror movie.

“Wait, I missed a pocket,” she called.

“They might have some by the sink.” A few seconds passed without an update. “Ciara?”

“What the fuck is this?” she asked, banging on the door like I could see through it.

“I don’t care unless it’s a tampon.”

But her hand appeared over the stall door, waving a familiar handmade doll. I’d seen a dozen like it in Willow’s shop.

“It’s an effigy,” I said slowly, a new uneasiness creeping through me. “Where did you get that?”

The tiny doll vanished. “It was in your purse in a hidden compartment. Okay, let me check my purse.”

A fist clenched my heart, but I shook away my fear. It was a coincidence. Nothing more. “I must have grabbed one in the Quartier Enchanté and forgotten about it.”

“Oh, I have something.” She held a tampon under the stall door, and I swiped it from her. “Now, about this creepy-ass doll.”

“It’s an effigy,” I repeated. “They’re used for spellcasting.”

“Why do you need one?” she asked.

But I didn’t need one. The effigy wasn’t mine. Something held me back from telling her that, a preternatural sense that made me close my mouth like when I was a child and I stopped myself from cursing to follow the rules. I tried to shake the strange feeling loose, but I couldn’t.

“Oh, are you hexing my brother?” she asked, sounding entirely too sympathetic to the idea.

I laughed despite myself. “No. Why would I do that?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

Fair enough.

A shiver rolled through me as I scrubbed at the bit of blood staining my panties with a wad of toilet paper. I didn’t want to risk the white sofas any more than the gowns. It took me a second to realize that Ciara had grown quiet.

“You okay out there?” I called.

She muttered something nonsensical.

“What?”

“I’m just playing with your doll,” she said more loudly.

“It’s not a doll.” It especially was not my doll. I unlocked the door to find her holding the effigy, a loose tangle of thread hanging from it. “It’s—”

Ciara looked up and froze, dropping it in the process. Then she screamed.

“What the hell…” I covered my ears, wincing at the shrill cry, and my fingers brushed a bit of hard, pointy cartilage. For a second, I simply stood there, afraid to move, afraid to touch it again. It wasn’t possible.

Ever so slowly, I felt the tops of my ears again.

But they weren’t my ears.