“We got married kind of quickly.”
“Because you suggested it.”
I swallowed. I had. “And you don’t know that much about me.” Something inside me rebelled at what I was doing.
The cold had turned her nose a light shade of pink, and she stared at me through the steam drifting up from her drink. “What are you saying?”
A short fae man made his way across the snow toward me. I would have responded to Lydia, but I found I recognized him.His name was Oscar. One of Darcy’s men. He came up in his beanie and peered up at us. “Mr. Wickham?”
“Yes.”
“I’m here to deliver a message from His Highness.”
Lydia gasped, but I said, “Go ahead.”
Oscar straightened his coat as if getting into official mode. “The prince would like to meet with you at his current residence three days hence at noon.”
“The prince? You mean the fae prince? Fitzwilliam Valemont?” Lydia gazed between the two of us with her mouth open. “Is he in town?”
“Must be a quick visit,” I murmured.
“But you know the fae prince? Can I come?” She looked excited. She had no idea that the fae prince was the same man who had financed our wedding.
“Perhaps another time,” I said, then turned to Oscar who awaited a reply. “Tell him I’ll come.”
Lydia’s shoulders slumped.
“I will convey your response to His Highness.” The fae man walked away.
Fae Prince Fitzwilliam Valemont hid his true identity to everyone in town by going by the name Darcy. I couldn’t believe he’d sent someone to make such a display. But thenagain, he probably didn’t want Lydia to know that Darcy and I were meeting, so it protected him to present himself as the prince instead of his known identity in Austen Heights. It was most likely the same reason he didn’t text. Perhaps he thought Lydia would see the message and tell her family? It had been clear when Darcy had offered his deal for our wedding that he’d wanted to keep his involvement a secret. I’d made Lydia promise not to say anything to her family about his interference in our wedding arrangements.
A brief spark of hope lit inside me. Why did he want to meet? Darcy and I used to be close, but ever since our falling out a couple of years ago over his sister, which had been largely my fault, he’d hated me. But could this be him reaching out? Wanting to reconcile?
“I don’t understand why I can’t come. I’m your wife, and I should be there to support you.” Lydia tipped her styrofoam cup back and drained it. “I’ve had enough of all the celebrating,” she said, clearly in a bad mood. “Let’s head home.”
After helping her into the Jeep to ensure she didn’t break her neck on the ice, I rounded the vehicle and got inside. It was still too warm for comfort, but I ignored that as I started it up and pulled onto the road.
We drove in silence, but then Lydia said quietly, “You’re right about what you said earlier. There’s so much I don’t understand about you.” She looked over at me. “But what I know, I can’t help but admire. We might have a shot at something amazing, and I would love it if you opened up more.”
This was the opposite direction this conversation should be headed. And yet, a part of me, buried deep beneath the exhaustion and fear, wanted to stay with her. We’d uncovered the killer, after all. The nightmare was supposed to be over. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to do this anymore. Maybe the running, the lying, the constant edge-of-the-knife tension could finally end.
Perhaps the craziness was over, and we could just… be. Together. For once, without the shadow of death hanging over us. We’d had a taste of what we could be before all the drama started, and our chemistry was alluring.
I turned onto the street where my small two-story townhome sat. Mine was the only one with Christmas lights still up. My neighbor, Mr. Rothschild, kept reminding me I needed to take them down now that the holiday was over, even though he’d also been the first to nag for me to put them up before Christmas because there couldn’t be a townhouse on the street that wasn’t decorated.
I pulled into the driveway and put the Jeep in park, determined to try. To stop running from my own life, because she was worth it. I sucked in a slow breath, telling myself I’d burn the annulment papers, and faced her. “What do you want to learn?”
But Lydia stared out the front window, my vampire hearing picking up on her heart pounding at an unnaturally fast rhythm in her chest and setting me on high alert. “Is something wrong?”
She opened the passenger door and bolted for my doorstep. I opened my door to follow her. “Lydia, what are you—”
The scent of death became strong in the air. I rushed to Lydia’s side, who stared at the dead figure that lay on my front doorstep. From his pointed ears, it was clear the man was fae.
For a moment, I stood in numb disbelief.
Lydia’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
The body was unbearably pale. I leaned closer, my stomach churning with dread as I saw two little pricks in the neck. A vampire did this.
