And I also wasn’t surprised when I heard his voice behind me. “You should be home.”
“You should mind your own business.” A horn blew from somewhere along the packed Warehouse District streets. Ever since developers had decided to reclaim a lot of the empty industrial buildings and turn them into expensive apartment complexes, clubs, and bars, the traffic was getting as bad as it was over in the Quarter. I shot him a glare over my shoulder. “And you better not be talking to Tink about me. That’s not cool.”
“I’m not,” he answered, and then his brow creased. “But he did tell me about something to do with tuna and a possible food illness.”
My mouth gaped. “Tink told you about that?”
The King nodded.
I was going to kill that damn brownie with my bare hands. I picked up my pace.
The King easily caught up to me, walking on the side of the traffic. “What you’re doing is my business.You’remy business.”
I shot him a look. “Yeah, no, I’m not.”
“You’re out here hunting a fae—”
“That you want to kill yourself. Cool story.” I stopped at the street sign, tugging down the hem of my skirt. Power walking in spandex was not advised.
“That’s not why. It’s not safe.”
“I can defend myself.” The moment the little green man appeared on the light, I hurried across the street, toes cramped in the narrow boots.
The King was right beside me, his long-legged pace easily matching mine. “I do not doubt that.”
“You don’t?” I forced out another laugh.
“No, I don’t, but this is different. You’re looking for a Knight. A skilled warrior who has killed indiscriminately in the past. If you thought the Order had a right to fear me when I was under the control of the Queen, they should be even more worried about him.”
That made me stumble. When the King had been under the spell of Queen Morgana, he’d been a psychotic killing machine. But I already knew that Aric was just as bad. I had the scars all over me to prove it.
But in reality, I knew very little about the Ancient. There was nothing in my mother’s journals or on file with the Order. I’d checked. And it wasn’t like the King and I had been on speaking terms beyond trading death glares.
I stopped, ignoring the muttered curses of the guy behind me. “Tell me about him. I want to know everything.”
The King looked away, jaw tight. “He was my Knight, and he betrayed me, stabbing me through the chest while I fought.”
“I know that. Tell me what he’s like. What makes him tick. What—?”
“Why? Why do you think this information is important? So you can build a profile on him?” Fiery amber eyes met mine. “Nothing I tell you will help you fight him and survive. You,” he said, stepping into me, “you are just…”
“What?” I challenged. “I’m just a human?”
“You’re just Brighton,” he said. “You cannot defeat him.”
Just Brighton? What the hell was that supposed to mean? I didn’t think I wanted to know. “Look, I don’t care what youthink. I’m going to find Aric, one way or another. You can’t stop me, and frankly, I’m done talking to you. Goodnight.”
I started walking again, getting halfway down the street before I realized that I was going in the wrong direction.
Damn it.
Not like I was going to turn around now. No way. Nothing screamed “skilled badass” like going in the wrong direction in the damn city you had grown up in.
“What’s your plan, sunshine? Find Neal? Then what?” He caught my arm, stopping me at the mouth of a dimly lit alley. “How do you plan to make him talk? To bring you to Aric? You plan to use your feminine wiles?”
“Feminine wiles? Buddy, it’s not the fifteenth century any longer.” I tugged on my arm, but he held on. “And I plan to use an iron blade in his throat. That’s how.”
“Really?” The King’s grip was hard, but his palm felt like fire on my skin. “Neal may not be much of a fighter, but he is still an Ancient, capable of throwing you across the street without even touching you.”
