It was hard to hear him properly under all the layers of pink tulle that Cecil was trying to force over my head. “So you said. A million times.”
“To me, you were just Susan, my lovely, but completely batshit crazy ex-convict friend.”
I spat out a mouthful of tulle. “Again. Thanks, Bart. And again, technically I am not a convict.”
“We are in your debt.” Donovan’s intense, deep voice echoed from where he stood by the window, surveilling the cityscape outside.
Eryk and Nate were out there somewhere. While I’d been arguing with a bitchy mermaid, choking on seawater, and cozily negotiating with a terrifying, woman-eating sea monster, they’d been scouting the city for traces of Connor the Devourer.
They’d found a handful of portals to the other realms in the Middle World, and apparently found evidence of Connor’s servants—creatures they referred to as banwyns—around Professor Owen’s manor house, which was apparently a terrible thing, worthy of several minutes of incomprehensible discussion in very serious voices. When we got back to my apartment, Eryk and Nate took Cress with them to show her what they’d found, while Cecil shoved a cocktail in my hand and started shoehorning me into evening gowns.
Donovan chose to stay with me. He would be accompanying me to Professor Owen’s manor tonight. He was already dressed for dinner. Cecil, the bitchy miniature-pony duocorn, was apparently an in-house stylist as well as my interior designer. He’d produced a perfectly tailored suit—midnight-blue pants and a sharp jacket with a crisp white shirt, no tie, and two buttons at Donovan's neck undone to reveal a hint of his collarbones and creamy tan skin.
Donovan in his battle leathers was like an erotic fantasy come to life. Donovan in a suit was just…
It was too much. I could barely even look at him. The suit was tailored to perfection—hugging his broad chest, defining his muscular shoulders, giving only subtle hints of his huge biceps, showing off his flat stomach, and skimming his long, strong legs perfectly. His long black hair was pulled up in a topknot, highlighting his perfect high cheekbones and chiseled jaw.
It wasn’t just the clothes, or his body, or his brutally handsome face. The power he exuded was almost overwhelming. It was just too obvious he wasn’t human—he moved like an apex predator, like a warrior prince. When I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, I had to remind myself to breathe.
At least I wasn’t as bad as Bart. He was acting like ablushing schoolgirl in Donovan’s presence. “It was nothing, Your Highness,” he said demurely.
“It was everything, Bart,” I said. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”
Donovan turned away from the window to face him. “You protected the Chosen, gave her sanctuary and a means of employment when no other person would help her, without realizing her true nature or her destiny. Such a noble deed will not go unnoticed when this tale is written into history, Shifter.”
Bart let out a high-pitched giggle. “Thank you, Your Highness. Susan has always been a great source of comfort to me. I was just happy to help my friend in her time of need.”
“Your family will hear of it, and your entire ancestral line will be honored by your deeds.”
Through the tulle, I watched Bart snigger into his martini glass. “Ooh, I can’t wait. They’re going tohatethis,” he whispered gleefully.
“So, what’s the deal there, Bart?’ I asked him. “You and your family are shifters from the shapeshifter realm, is that right? I mean, ofcourseyou are, because whywouldn’tmy closest friend in the world secretly be a supernatural creature?” I added, a little testily.
“Well, to be honest, it’s not hard to keep secret. I haven’t shifted in years. Gone native,” Bart explained. “And, to be fair, Susan,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips, “everyoneknows I’m a bear.”
“I thought that was a gay stereotype!”
“It is. In my case, it just also happens to be literal.”
I huffed out an exasperated breath. “And I thought you were from Washington DC?”
“Our realm is called The Woods,” he explained, while Cecil tussled with the layers of tulle, trying to find my headsomewhere amongst the explosion of pink fabric. “Most of us are expats, though; almost all shifters live in the mortal world. We’ve evolved alongside normal humans, but our people took care to keep our realm as close to nature as possible. The human realm is our home. The Woods is more like a cabin we all go to when we need to get back to the wild. Some shifters live there full time.” He frowned. “They’re a bit crazy.”
Cecil yanked me sideways, and I wobbled on my knees. The bare floorboards were a bitch to kneel on. “Can I get a carpet or a rug or something, here, Violet?”
My house rumbled in a noise that I’d started to think of as acquiesce, and fuzzy beige wool pushed out of the vintage oak floorboards, sprouting like a thick carpet of tiny mushrooms. My knees sank into the soft fabric gratefully.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“That’s nice,” Bart said approvingly. “Scandinavian alpaca wool blend. I saw that at Evonne’s Atelier a few months ago, and it cost her a fortune. You really got the hang of this quickly, Sue.”
I swatted the fabric out of my face. “I think it’s because it’s absolutely ridiculous, Bart. I still haven’t decided if my sanity has completely deserted me or not. For all I know, I’m back in the padded room at Serenity Ward, talking to the walls.”
Donovan gave a low, rumbling grunt, deep within his chest. “Chosen. You are being asinine. You were never insane in the first place.”
I froze. No, that couldn’t be right. If I was never crazy in the first place, that meant all the hallucinations I had before were real. And if they were real…
A hoof stomped on the sole of my foot. “Ouch! Cecil!”
