Page 26

T WENTY -S IX C AMILLE

Harper has only been here for three days but she has to go back to Seattle tomorrow. Between needing to finish her own training and figuring out things with Xander and his council, she can’t stay any longer. As bummed as I am, I understand.

I get up early and sneak out to pick up breakfast from the café a few blocks away. It’s a small, family-owned place that makes the most amazing egg and cheese croissants and cinnamon rolls. Not to mention, their chai latte is top tier—probably the best I’ve ever had. It keeps me coming back.

The street is still quiet, and it’s cold enough that my breath fogs the air. I hug myself tighter, tucking my hands under my armpits to keep them warm as I pick up my pace.

I only slow to cross the street, glancing both ways before I step off the sidewalk.

From nowhere, a body collides with mine, shoving me backward away from the street and under the awning of a closed floral shop.

My pulse skyrockets, and when my brain catches up and I recognize Blake’s face, my eyes narrow sharply. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Long time no see, love.”

I try to shove him away, but he isn’t going anywhere. “Is that the only greeting you know?” I mutter. “And I saw you less than a month ago. What do you want now?”

“Here’s the deal,” he says in a voice void of his usual flippant humor, which puts me on edge immediately. “You and I are going to take a little trip. We can do it the nice and easy way, which includes a first-class flight, or—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I cut in as I try to put distance between us, and my heart beats harder as panic pours into my chest.

Blake grips my shoulders, pinning me against the brick exterior of the shop. With a sigh he says, “For the record, I really didn’t want to do this the hard way.”

I open my mouth to, what? Scream? But Blake is faster. His eyes go black as he pulls a hand off my shoulder. Then his fist is flying, slamming into the side of my head and sending me toppling into darkness.

My head is throbbing something fierce when I open my eyes. I sit up against a mountain of unbelievably soft pillows and blink quickly, desperate to orient myself, but my surroundings are unfamiliar. The room is dim, lit softly by lamps on the nightstands on either side of the king-size bed I’m on.

I glance down, frowning at the black silk sheets as my panic crests, and I scramble off the bed, wincing at the splitting headache taking residency behind my eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I was walking to get breakfast for me and Harper when Blake ambushed me on the street. The bastard knocked me out.

Whipping around, my eyes land on a window, and I rush toward it in search of some clue as to where he brought me.

The night sky outside is so clear I can see the stars, making me think we’re not in New York, and the moonlight reflects off a small pond. I can’t see anything else but trees, and as the reality of being kidnapped settles in, the back of my neck tingles and my throat goes dry. My eyes burn with unshed tears as I fight to stay grounded in reality.

Panicking won’t help the situation, but the pressure building in my chest evidently didn’t get the memo. Each inhale is shallower than the last, and I cross the room in a hurry on unsteady legs, reaching for the handle of the first door. Throwing it open, I find a simple yet modern, four-piece bathroom that smells faintly of citrus and mint.

After splashing cold water on my face, I reach for a towel to dry my hands and brush the inside pocket of my jacket. My breath catches at the hard outline of my dagger.

I’ve been carrying it since Noah tossed it at me during the demon attack outside Two Boots.

I return to the bedroom, torn between relief and insult, considering Blake obviously didn’t think I was enough of a threat to disarm me.

Scanning the space, I bypass the sitting area and go right for the other door. An odd mix of dread and excitement zips through me when I turn the knob and the door opens. I guess I was expecting it to be locked.

Taking a deep breath to center myself, I pull the dagger from my jacket and slip out of the room, ready to dive into a fight.

The hallway is empty.

I deflate, exhaling slowly and peering around the area. The walls are neutral and decorated with modern works of art. My footsteps are quiet on the dark wood, and I squint a little at the lighting above.

I’m going to make Blake pay for this damn headache.

It’s brighter out here, the contemporary fixtures hanging from the high ceiling drowning the space in crisp light.

I do my best to ignore the thumping in my head as I continue down the hall, my grip on the dagger making its solid metal hilt bite into my skin.

I’m halfway between the bedroom and the top of a staircase when a shiver zips up my spine.

I freeze, holding my breath. Alarm bells blare in my head, which doesn’t help the throbbing behind my eyes, but there’s nowhere to run. I won’t make it out of here, and the certainty of that makes my jaw clench.

I know it’s him before I whirl around.

My eyes lift to Xander’s immediately, my muscles locking as I take him in. He looks the same as when I saw him in New York, except he’s clean shaven, his hair tousled just right. He’s also dressed more formally than I’m used to, in a light gray dress shirt under a black suit jacket and matching slacks. His attire is impeccable. Royal .

He regards me with a curious glint in his eyes, cocking his head to the side. “Going somewhere, mo shíorghrá ?”

“Kitchen,” I lie without missing a beat. “I’m feeling snacky.”

Xander chuckles. “Try again.”

I slink back, my eyes narrowing. “Was I meant to stay in that room? Maybe you should’ve locked the door. Better yet, is there a dungeon in this place you’d like to cage me in?”

He steps toward me, and it takes everything in me not to bolt. My posture stiffens, and he notices, frowning briefly. “I’m not going to lock you up.”

I swallow hard, glancing past him, back the way I came. I don’t think that’s the way out of here…I need to get to the main floor. I need to get to the stairs I was heading for. So I have to keep him talking, distracted, and then make a break for it. “I can leave then?”

His brows tug closer, a muscle feathering along his jaw. “No.”

I blink at him, shaking my head. “You see why that might be a problem for me?”

“You’re here so I can ensure your safety.”

“Why?” The question leaves my lips before I can snap my mouth shut. In the time it takes me to blink, Xander closes the remaining distance between us. I suck in a sharp breath and stumble back, but Xander catches my wrist, plucking the dagger from my grip.

That maneuver sets off something in me, and I lunge forward, slamming my fist into his jaw. His head barely moves, and pain flares across my knuckles as I curse at him.

Still I try again, but he catches my fist in his hand, using that grip to push me back until I hit the wall. He cages me in, moving faster than I can follow. Between one moment and the next, he tucks my dagger in the waistband of his slacks and has my arms pinned to the wall above my head. I continue to struggle, lifting my knee to try and sock him hard enough he’ll let go of me, but he dodges each of my attempts with an ease that has anger burning hot in my chest.

“Stop fighting me,” he says in a level voice, his chest pressed against mine, invading my senses with his proximity and a hint of aftershave.

“Let me go,” I pant, gritting my teeth, but don’t stop trying to free my wrists from his grasp.

“I will once you settle down.”

I give one last fruitless attempt to break free, shooting him a dark look before I stop fighting. My chest rises and falls quickly against his as I catch my breath. His eyes roam over my face, bringing heat to my cheeks, but I force myself to hold his gaze when it meets mine. Slowly, he frees my wrists, and I drop them back to my sides, clenching my hands to keep from slamming them into his chest. It won’t do any good, but the urge is strong nonetheless.

“Why did Blake bring me here?”

Xander takes a small step back, giving me room to breathe. “Let’s not have this conversation in the hallway.”

I scowl. “I don’t give a fuck where we are. I want answers. Now.”

His lips twitch. “I’ve missed your sharp tongue.”

That trips me up, and I stare at him for too long before I cross my arms over my chest. “Xander—”

He catches my elbow, drawing me toward him and guiding me down the hall toward the room I came from. I don’t protest, but the second we’re behind the closed bedroom door, I start in on him, my anger from before still simmering just beneath the surface.

“What am I doing here?” I demand unsteadily, following him as he crosses the room toward the sitting area.

He gestures to the couch he stands behind. “Sit down.”

I don’t. Instead, I repeat, “What am I doing here, Xander?”

“Sit down, Camille.” His tone is sharp, and it cuts into my chest, reminding me exactly who he is. Why I shouldn’t be anywhere near him.

I turn on my heel and cross the room toward the door. I can’t be here any longer.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he calls out, igniting something in me.

I whirl around, and suddenly tears are blurring my vision. “I should have walked away from you the moment I found out what you are!”

He stumbles back—he actually recoils—as if I hit him.

I exhale an uneven breath, meeting his gaze, and ask once more, “What am I doing here?”

“Camille—”

“What do you want?” I snap.

“You.”

The air leaves my lungs in a vicious whoosh as I take an instinctive step back.

Xander sighs. “There are things happening in my world that could put you in danger, and I needed to make sure you were safe.”

Too many emotions shove forward, making it hard to breathe, and I swallow hard. Walking back toward the sitting area, I keep a healthy distance between us. I’m not entirely sure what makes me say it, but the words are out of my mouth before I can’t stop them. “Tell me everything.”

He walks around the couch and sits, waiting until I take the armchair furthest from him, putting the glass coffee table between us.

“There is a very old, very powerful demon that has made it his mission to destroy me. Marrick was quite close with my mother and agreed with her vision to eradicate the hunters. From the second I made a play for the throne, he’s been vehemently against my reign.”

I wipe the dampness from my palms on the armrests, keeping my gaze locked on his face. “What does that mean exactly?”

“Marrick will do everything possible to ensure my downfall, which means you’re not safe.”

My eyes widen as my heart beats faster. I can’t help the jumble of racing thoughts as I try to sort through everything being thrown my way. I want to ask what I have to do with Xander’s downfall, but honestly, I’m too afraid of the answer. Instead, I say, “So you decided to have Blake knock me out and bring me—” My gaze shifts to the window before I look at him again. “Where are we?”

“Vancouver.”

I blink. “Vancouver…” My voice trails off. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Staying in Seattle was getting a bit precarious.”

“Right. And how long do you plan on keeping me here? I assume I’m being kept, considering you’ve already said I can’t leave.”

He sighs. “I’d rather you didn’t see it that way.”

“And I’d rather not be here, so I guess nobody wins.”

Xander cracks a smile. “You didn’t miss me then?”

I don’t answer, though the jump in my pulse is telling enough, and the smirk on his face tells me he fucking knows it.

“Are you hungry?” he asks next.

I want to say no. Tell him to go away. Because there’s no chance of figuring out what’s going on in my head with him so close. There’s a table filling the space between him and me, but I still feel him everywhere . My stomach grumbles anyway, threatening to make a liar out of me if I tell him no. I was on my way to get breakfast when Blake appeared, and I’m not sure how long ago that was.

“I guess,” I finally say. “What time is it, anyway?”

He checks his watch. “Eight thirty.”

I nod slowly, my anxiety climbing higher as I consider what happened when Harper woke up and I was gone. “How long have I been here? Harper is probably freaking out. I need to—”

“Take a breath,” Xander cuts in smoothly. “You’ve been here less than a day. Blake picked you up this morning, and Harper is heading back to Seattle to the safety of headquarters until she’s able to come here.”

I think his words are meant to make me feel better, but they don’t stop the tingling at the back of my neck or the sense of doom crowding my thoughts. I want to ask him if Harper is involved in my being here. If she accepted the position on his council. But the way my heartbeat is thumping in my throat makes it too hard to form the words.

“Come on.” He stands and offers me his hand. “I’ll make you dinner.”

My eyes drop to his outstretched hand, and I hesitate. I should stand and walk past him, but the urge to feel his touch takes control and has me sliding my hand into his as I get up from the chair.

We walk out of the bedroom and downstairs to the main floor. My stomach dips when I spot the front door, and Xander squeezes my hand, stealing my attention.

“I know you want to try running,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “It’s in your best interest not to.”

I exhale through my nose. “My best interest or yours?” I throw at him. “And don’t you have more important things to do besides play house with your would-be soulmate?” I stop walking the second the words are out of my mouth, pulling my hand free from his.

Xander moves to stand in front of me, his face filled with an expression I can’t begin to decipher right now. “I wondered when that would come up again.”

I shake my head, wishing I could take back what I said as my heart thumps in my chest.

“You’d like to talk about it, then?”

“I really don’t.”

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes searching mine. “And yet, you brought it up unprompted.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Xander,” I snap. “Let’s just go make dinner and pretend this whole situation isn’t fucked up.”

“If that’s what you want,” he offers.

I choke on a humorless laugh. “Don’t pretend any of this is what I want . We’ve already established that I don’t want to be here.”

Xander nods but doesn’t say anything.

“People are going to wonder where I am. My dad, Noah. Someone will report my absence from training to the organization, and you’ll be the first suspect. It won’t take long before—”

“There’s a nationwide hunt for me?” he offers with a faint smirk.

I scowl at his blasé tone. “There are demon hunters in Canada too, you know.”

He shrugs. “They won’t find this place, Camille. No one will, which is precisely the point.”

Evidently he decides I’m not going to make a break for it, because he keeps walking, leaving me staring after him.

My stocking feet are quiet on the hardwood even as I stomp down the hall after him. I catch up as he reaches a set of double doors and opens them to a combined kitchen and dining room.

I scan the space, immediately noticing a guy standing at the restaurant-grade stove with his back to us. He’s stirring something in a massive pot, and whatever it is smells divine.

He turns, wiping his hands on the apron tied around his waist, and offers us a polite smile. “Good evening.” He walks around the kitchen island and comes toward us, his pale blue eyes focused on me. “You must be Camille.”

I nod slowly, unsure what to make of this guy. He appears to be around Xander’s age, maybe a few years older, and has a hint of an accent I can’t place. He’s dressed in a navy dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and black slacks.

“Camille, this is Gio,” Xander says lightly, no trace of our previous conversation left in his tone. “He’s been a friend for many years.”

“Um, hi,” I say.

Gio’s lips curl into a grin. “Lovely to meet you. Xander speaks very highly of you.”

“He does?” I blurt as my brows lift and warmth fills my cheeks. I shouldn’t feel any sort of way over Xander talking about me, especially to his demon friend, yet I can’t stop the stupid butterflies in my stomach from flapping their wings.

Gio dips his face, making his golden blond hair fall across his forehead, and lowers his voice as if he’s sharing a secret. “The bastard doesn’t shut up about how wonderful you are. It’s really quite annoying.” He shoots me a wink before straightening and walking back to the stove.

I inhale a short breath when Xander’s hand grazes the small of my back, guiding me toward the dining table off to the side of the kitchen. He pulls out a chair, waiting for me to sit to push it in. Then he rounds the table and sits across from me, his expression unreadable as he takes the dark bottle in front of him and unscrews the cork. Finally, he meets my gaze, asking, “Wine?”

I nod, pushing my glass closer so he can pour. “Thank you,” I murmur once my glass is full. I glance toward the kitchen, where Gio continues preparing our meal, then turn my focus back to Xander as he pours his own glass. “Now that you’re well on your way to being king you’re too important to cook for yourself?”

Gio chuckles but doesn’t say anything, keeping his back to us.

Xander sets the wine bottle down, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I would much prefer to cook for myself—and for you. I quite enjoy it, as I’m sure you recall. However, as you’ve already mentioned, I have important things to do, which often means I don’t have the luxury of time to do what I enjoy.”

I press my lips together. “Hmm.”

“Besides, Gio went to one of the top culinary schools in Canada. I don’t want his talents wasted while we’re here.”

Before I can respond, Gio approaches with two dishes, setting one down in front of me and the other in front of Xander.

“You kids enjoy.” He pats Xander on the back and smiles at me.

“Thank you,” I say, staring at the most mouth-watering piece of roast, paired with steamed broccoli and garlic mashed potatoes. “This smells incredible.” My stomach grumbles in agreement as I pick up my fork.

“I wanted to make something fancier—I make a divine duck confit with broccoli rabe—but Xander requested this. Something about it being one of your favorite meals.”

“I appreciate it,” I tell him sincerely. I have no reason to take issue with Gio, especially considering he’s been nothing but kind and just prepared my meal.

He smiles and nods before retreating from the room, leaving Xander and me alone.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, and it feels weirdly…domestic. I can’t help but think about the date we had at Xander’s apartment in Seattle when he made me dinner.

“What’s on your mind?” Xander asks, taking a sip of his wine.

I shake my head to clear it. “Just trying to keep up.”

The corner of his mouth curves upward, hinting at a smile. “You don’t need to worry, Camille. Everyone in this house is loyal to me, which means you’re safe.”

I stab a broccoli floret with my fork. “How many people are here?”

“Eight now that you’re here. You’ll meet the others tomorrow, once you’ve had a chance to rest.”

“Blake’s here?” I check.

Xander nods, slicing into his roast and lifting a piece to his mouth.

I drop my fork onto my plate. “Cool. Can I have my dagger back?”

He swallows and offers a short laugh. “Blake was acting on my request.”

Arching a brow, I ask, “So you requested he clobber me in the head and knock me out to bring me here?”

His expression darkens. “Not exactly. He knows I wasn’t pleased about that part. That said, don’t blame him for bringing you here, blame me.”

“Can I have my dagger back?” I repeat.

“We both know you won’t use it on me.”

His confident tone makes my eyes narrow. “Do we?” I taunt, unable to help myself. He doesn’t get to win this verbal sparring match.

Xander sets his fork down, holding my gaze. Reaching behind him, he pulls my dagger out and sets it on the table, close enough for me to grab. Then the arrogant bastard picks up his fork and proceeds to eat.

I sit back with a scowl, crossing my arms.

He points at my plate with his fork. “Eat before it gets cold.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I grumble, and yeah, it’s childish, but it’s either that or scream profanities about this whole shit show. I think I chose the tamer option.

After swallowing a mouthful of potatoes, I proceed to down my glass of wine. Because if I’m going to endure whatever this is with Xander, I’m at least going to do it with a buzz.