With the way Hex narrows his eyes at me in the dim moonlight filtering down between the buildings, it’s clear he’s not going to believe me if I tell him I’ll be right behind him. Maybe I’ll sleep for an hour or two, then come back down to the street. I’ll make sure the outer guards know there was someone watching the inn. I didn’t want to alert them before and have them accidentally scare off the lurker.
But as I follow Hex up the stairs to my room—the one next to Freya’s—my body is telling me that my decision to stayon watch was a bad one. I can last longer than most on low to little sleep, but if I do this every night, it’s going to start taking its toll and limit my ability to do my job. I need to be focused and take care of myself so I can be at top performance.
I don’t have enough information telling me I have legitimate reasons to worry. Freya isn’t in danger.
Yet.
My bed calls to me when I get to my room, but instead of collapsing onto it, I move to the window and look out through the darkness. I won’t find the lurker there, but I’m still curious about his intentions. Looking for holes in security? Searching for openings in the princess’s schedule? Hoping to make us nervous?
I grab my phone and move away from the window so the light won’t be as obvious, intending to look for a match to the lurker in the RIA’s database. Instead, I find an alert that brings me to a new article from the tabloid that seems suspiciously obsessed with my cousin, Derek.Hollywood Hot Scoop. I didn’t even know the website existed until a few months ago, when Derek first reached out to me about coming to Candora, but now I’ve been dragged into their stupidity thanks to Freya’s unsanctioned outing to Invem last week.
I haven’t figured out how they found out about that night, but at least they didn’t have many details.
Princess Freya’s Frantic Fight to Find Followers, tonight’s headline says, and I narrow my eyes as I skim through the article. It’s all nonsense, talking about how Freya has taken to the campaign trail in a pathetic attempt to seem more friendly. The author has decided Freya thinks too highly of herself if she thinks making a few speeches will be enough to turn public opinion, stating that Freya’s time would be better spent working retail if she really wants to know how regular people live. According to the article, Freya’s interactions with Derek and his celebrity friends have tainted her view of the world and made her think she’s better than she is.
Derek does not have this problem, or so the article says, and he manages to stay humble no matter how much his fame grows. Based on the comments, no one seems to recognize the sheer hypocrisy of everything this website posts.
“Sounds to me like someone is trying to get your attention, Derek,” I mutter, closing the website and pulling up his number.
As always, he answers in only a couple of rings, but I barely hear what he says because the background is full of noise. “Hey, give me a second.”
The line goes silent for about thirty seconds, during which I peek out the window again, as if something might have changed in the last five minutes. The square is still empty, though from up here I don’t have as good a sight line of the corner where the man was standing. That could mean he didn’t have a good view of the princess’s window, but I’d have to checkherview to be sure.
“Sorry,” Derek says, and this time it’s without the noise. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?” That shouldn’t be my first question. It doesn’t matter where he is or what he does with his time, but my curiosity is too strong. My cousin’s world is so completely different from mine, and I have no idea how a guy like him would spend his evenings.
“Uhhh.” He draws the word out, like he’s trying to come up with a believable lie. “Technically? I’m on a date.”
“A date?” Again, none of my business, but for some reason that surprises me. According to the internet, Derek hasn’t dated anyone since breaking things off with his still-a-friend ex-girlfriend, Bonnie, and he seems to keep to himself otherwise. It takes me way too long to realize the implications of what he said, and I wince. “Oh, uh, this can wait if you need to get back to—”
“She’s fine. What’s up? It’s the middle of the night there.”
Right. I feel weird about interrupting his date, but if he’s willing to talk, I’ll gladly get some answers. “Tell me aboutHollywood Hot Scoop.”
He lets out a heavy sigh that sounds so weary that I almost think it’s the middle of the night for him too, even though it’s around seven in California. “What did they do this time?” But his voice is distant, so I’m pretty sure he’s already looking up the article. He swears under his breath, then says, “I guess it could be worse, and you weren’t mentioned this time around, which probably means their source wasn’t all that forthcoming. Has she seen this yet?”
I’m assuming he’s talking about Freya. “Like you said, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Right. Outside ofHot Scoopbeing a pain in the butt, how are things going? I haven’t heard from you for a couple weeks.”
Did he expect to? He told me to figure it out, and that’s what I’ve been doing. I’m pretty sure Freya trusts me now, if our most recent interactions are any indication, and that’s really all I need from her. Instead of answering Derek’s question, I ask, “Should I be worried about this tabloid causing problems?”
“Hmm, that depends on if they start following your campaign trail. They are generally pretty harmless, but when they want something, they’re not afraid to play dirty.”
“Freya told you about her plans,” I guess, my voice shifting to more of a growl. I don’t love that she’s spreading information around, even if I trust Derek for the most part. It’s easier to keep her safe if fewer people know where she’ll be at any given point.
Derek chuckles. “Not in detail. She’s smarter than that, Elliot.”
“I wasn’t implying she isn’t. But I…” I need to sleep and stop being so paranoid. I need to trust in the men I have here with me because I certainly can’t trust myself.
That last thought settles heavy in my gut, leaving me slightly nauseous. Gregor may have planned a lot of this trip, but he’s trusting me with the minutia, and I’m no stranger to the adage that the devil is in the details. It’s details that got Griff killed.
Swearing under my breath, I shake my head as if that might shake the thoughts away. My friend’s death wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have changed the outcome of that mission. Iknowthat. But my heart doesn’t always agree with my head.
“El.” Derek’s voice is soft. “You’re good, right? Because I’m trusting you to look after my friend. If you’re not okay, then—”
“I’m fine.” I’m less fine knowing he somehow knows what’s running through my head from more than five thousand miles away. He can’t know me well enough to know my demons, even if he’s one of the few people in the world who know why I left the Forces in the first place.
