Chapter 25
After a supper of salad and pizza, Mercy paced the guest bedroom, her mind spinning. War. Could the Fae really go to war with the Realm? The very idea seemed ridiculous, but the president and King Niall had never seemed worried about that possibility.
Were their defenses that good? Until recently, none of them had even seen Realm soldiers in action.
What about Logan? Those crazy-looking Cyst soldiers were after him, and they looked deadly. What if they caught up to him?
She scrubbed her hands through her hair, pulling it away from her scalp. Why hadn’t the Seven listened to her? Why were vampires and demons so damn stubborn? Failure felt like a solid rock in her stomach.
Rain continued to patter outside as yet another night began to fall. She’d been in so many time zones, back and forth, she wasn’t sure whether to sleep or not.
Exhaustion pulled at her. She missed her figures and the stock market. Missed watching the real estate transfers. Missed trying to learn how to cook. She was a disaster in the kitchen. Yet she’d never stop trying.
Would life ever get back to normal?
She sat on the bed with its plush floral comforter and tried to take several deep breaths. Logan had to listen to her. If she had a phone, she’d call Sandy. Sandy was so much better with males.
Crossing her legs, she dropped her chin and began a set of breathing exercises that were supposed to make her body relax. Instead, her mind wandered back to the past.
She sat in a spacious office with a view of New York City and several computers, buying and selling stocks with the speed of a rodeo bronc. She liked this world—the opportunities available to her, to her people, to build a portfolio that would sustain and protect them for centuries.
Money and land led to safety. It was that easy. The thrill of the hunt rushed through her.
Her door opened, and Niall sauntered inside. He wore a gray suit, bright green tie, and shiny loafers. He’d cut his hair and was clean-shaven, his jaw chiseled. That explained the sound of female chattering going on outside the office. Like the rest of them, he enjoyed his time with humans while in this world. How many girlfriends did he have, anyway? Not that she cared.
She partially stood. “King.”
He motioned her back to her seat and shut the door, crossing to a leather guest chair. “I told you about our match nearly five years ago. Don’t you think it’s time you called me Niall?”
They’d been busy for the intervening five years, only seeing each other during official meetings. But lately, he’d been looking at her differently. Like he had a right to look at her. She breathed out, her mind spinning. Her duty was to her people. Being their queen would allow her to be of great use. He was good-looking and cared about the Fae as much as she did.
But still. Where were the tingles?
He studied her. “Is that a bruise on your forehead?”
She reached up and rubbed the purple bump. Ouch. “Yes. I was training yesterday. It’s time I learned how to fight.”
He laughed. “You’re going to be queen. Learning to fight is a waste of your valuable time.”
Oh yeah? Maybe she should show him the high kick she’d learned just last week. “I have plenty of time,” she said.
He shrugged. “How’s the research coming? Into the Seven?” he asked, glancing at his gold wristwatch.
Oh. There went the tingles. “I agree that Logan Kyllwood is the most likely final candidate to join the Seven.” Her legs trembled, and she crossed them. What in the world was wrong with her? “I’ve been studying him, and he isn’t going to be easy to kill.” She’d only seen pictures, but his green eyes were burned into her mind. The more she learned about him, the more intrigued she became.
“I’m not concerned. Our soldiers will be able to handle him.”
Hah. They only had six soldiers under the age of a zillion. “I’ve come up with a plan, a way to lure him to us.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared it. She had to meet Logan Kyllwood in person. Just once. Just to see if he was as incredible as she’d read. As she dreamed. Then she’d follow duty.
“Your strategic mind always captivates me.” Niall’s smile was both charming and sincere.
Guilt cut through her. This male was her intended. And she was creating a scenario to save a demon who most likely would want her dead. “I’d like for Sandy and Trina to work with me.”
He studied the snow globes scattered across her desk. One of her many collections. “Sort of a final mission?” His brown eye sparkled more than his blue one. “The equivalent to a human bachelorette party?”
She forced a smile. “Only the Fae would consider tricking a demon to be a party.”
He chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “That’s a good point. But I’m sorry, there will be no mission. Not a chance. In fact, pack your bags, because we’re going to Malta for our mating.”
