her.
She took it, his conviction giving her inner strength. “Queen Tiana scares me.”
“She scares me as well. But we can’t let fear rule our lives. Right?”
“Right.” She gazed into his green eyes. Even though he hadn’t worn his spectacles since he’d rescued her, she still expected to see them sometimes. “And your father?”
V exhaled heavily. “I don’t care. I want to be with you.”
“Good.” Using his hand, she pulled herself into a standing position.
She followed him to his room. V climbed into his bed and patted the space next to him. Noli crawled into the bed and he wrapped his arms around her.
Curling into him, her face buried in his shoulder. “Where do I belong, V?”
“Where do you want to belong?” His warm breath caressed her ear.
“I … I don’t know,” she hiccupped.
“We’ll figure it out, Noli.” V stroked her hair. “We’ll figure it out.”
They lay there in the bed, bodies entwined. It felt so nice to be in his arms, his body against hers, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, hearing his breath.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His lips brushed the top of her head. “I love you, too, darling.”
She closed her eyes. “I know, V, I know.”
Twenty-Three
Los Angeles
Kevighn stood on the Los Angeles street, gazing at the row of large houses. He never had liked Los Angeles as much as other cities. These houses weren’t monstrous estates like some he’d seen in his wanderings, but were certainly grand and well kept.
Except for one.
Even with its new coat of paint, one looked more worn, the shutters crooked, and the whole house seeming … tired.
The Braddock Residence, for certain.
It also appeared vacant. Then again, her mother was in Boston and she was with Jeff.
A sigh reverberated though his entire being. At least she wasn’t with that whelp of a prince, who hopefully was still on his wretched quest and would die a miserable death.
Kevighn’s gaze shifted to the house next to Noli’s, the one whose address matched what Ciaran had given him. It wouldn’t be terrible if that prat happened to dwell within. It would be nice to have a reason to kill him. The corners of his lips tugged into a smile.
However, nothing would beat getting the chance to slay Quinn the Fair.
Ah, revenge would be so sweet. Granted, Quinn didn’t
A highborn such as Quinn would never leave the court in order to be with Creideamh. No, instead he lured her out of the safe haven Kevighn had built for her in the dark court and attempted to bring her into his world.
And she’d died. Kevighn would never forgive him for that.
Today his mission wasn’t one of revenge, but to get the girl, Ailis. Unfortunately, the best way to accomplish his mission wouldn’t involve Quinn at all. It entailed convincing Ailis to come with him of her own free will—just like he’d enticed all those girls over the years to return with him to the Otherworld in order to be the sacrifice.
He may need repeated visits. Like with all those girls it might take time, finesse, and presents. His rucksack held sweets, ribbons, and a mechanical bird—three items proven to tempt girls of nearly any age.
However, given her age, no seduction would be involved. She also wouldn’t meet her death, but would instead one day be their savior of a different sort. Hopefully. Kevighn still didn’t have a firm grasp on Ciaran’s plan. But that wasn’t his problem.
Instead of going to the house, he ducked into Magnolia’s backyard. The tree house, built not of the tree itself like Creideamh’s, but of a mishmash of odds and ends, drew his attention, the tree itself shaped like a “J.” He remembered her telling him about the tree house and her tree and how much she loved them. The hideaway could prove a good perch for some covert observation. Also, if the house itself were abandoned, there was less likelihood anyone would notice him lurking about.
He climbed up the bent trunk into the tree house. The sheer Noli-ness of the place nearly knocked him over. From the hammer on the ground to the long-forgotten dried blooms, he could practically hear her voice calling to him.
Surprisingly, a clan of wood faeries hadn’t taken residence. They came into this realm, and who wouldn’t want to live in a tree cared for by Magnolia?
The window gave him an unobstructed view of the Darrow residence. As he observed the sadly empty backyard something caught his eye. The backdoor seemed ajar, and not just cracked open, but crooked. He studied the house for several moments, watching for signs of life.
The longer he eyed the eerily still house, the more he got the idea that something was amiss. It was in the curvature of the back fence boards, the too-many-boot prints in the grass.
Yes, this required further investigation.
Had someone else gotten to the girl first? Ciaran wouldn’t be the only one to remember Tiana had a daughter—or recognize that something would need to be done sooner rather than later. Yet, who would have the gall to make such a treasonous move? The dark king could get away with things no one else in the Otherworld could. Climbing down the tree, Kevighn took his dagger from his boot and hopped over the fence into the other yard. The boot prints were from several different men, but all the same type, like they were soldiers. He made his way inside, creeping quietly, using the slightest touch of magic to see if anyone lurked within.
Nothing. No one living, at least.
Blood streaked the floor of the ransacked kitchen and he followed the trail. The already decaying carcass of the former earth king lay in what looked like a study. Kevighn grimaced at the sight and stench. He held no lost love for the former king, in fact, part of him seethed at the idea of never getting to settle the score they had. Yet at the same time, here was an exile who’d died all alone. A sad death for someone who’d once been king. Had Queen Tiana killed him?
Perhaps this lonely demise was justice enough. His hand glowed as he used his magic to examine the body. The old king hadn’t died from magic, but of mundane knife wounds.
No … he’d died of both. Interesting. A ploy to foil the mortal police perhaps?
Leaving the body where he’d found it, Kevighn trekked upstairs to search for more bodies and clues. As miserable as finding the body had been, that wasn’t his task. Also, he wouldn’t be too upset if he found Stiofan’s carcass as long as he got to kill Quinn himself.
No other bodies hid in any of the rooms. When he went into a girl’s room, presumably Ailis’, he frowned. Drawers were pulled out and things strewn about. Where some of the downstairs rooms looked ransacked, none of the bedrooms had been so. Certainly, a king-killer wouldn’t be looking for something hidden in a little girl’s room.
She’d fled. Probably with her protector, Quinn the Fair.
He picked up a forgotten doll and stuffed it in his rucksack along with a photo. Hopefully he could use the toy to locate the girl. As he walked down the hall he gazed at the door of the bedroom that belonged to Stiofan. At least, he presumed it was Stiofan’s considering it was his name written in the many boring tomes lining the desk.
Did the he know about his father? Probably not, since he’d properly dispose of the body. Most likely he’d return as soon as his quest concluded.
A devilish grin spread across Kevighn’s face. He should leave the prince a little surprise.
“Ready, Noli?” Steven took Noli’s hand as they strolled down the street toward his house, James behind
