That was a pretty weighty promise—and fae don’t take things like promises and contracts lightly. It’s a part of their culture—like the whole guest thing.
Plus, Mom’s demand was iron clad. It wouldn’t allow him to conveniently “forget” to tell me anything, and it would tie him to me untilIwas satisfied.
There’s no way he’ll agree to it, but how did Mom even know how to phrase that?
Lady Demetria puffed up like a roosting chicken. “Howdareyou make such demands of the Paragon—human! He—”
“I’ll do my best,” the Paragon said.
My mom narrowed her eyes. “Make it a contract,” she said in a cold, clear voice that shocked me almost as much as her demand.
I stared at her, stunned. This wasn’t my mom who made me cookies when I got home from school as a kid. This woman was a warrior. And—human or not—she was going to fight for me.
Suits and Lady Demetria were practically shaking with anger.
The Paragon, however, glanced at the night mares. He studied them for several long moments, then swung his gaze back to my mom. “I swear I’ll show Leila how to be safe, and I will teach her all she needs to know to survive and be happy as the Queen of the Night Court, as long as she feels she needs my help.”
He had fitted a bit of a loophole in there—he’d said he’d help me as Queen of the Night Court, not myself. But I was still just shocked he’d made the promise.
Mom nodded, and the edge that had sharpened her disappeared as her eyes turned glassy with tears and Dad put his arm around her.
The Paragon awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Arrangements will have to be made for you to move to the mansion that belongs to the ruler of the Night Court. I imagine there is much you don’t know. We had best start immediately—”
“A week,” I blurted out. “Give me one week here at home, first.”
Lady Demetria huffed. “You are our queen! It is your duty to take up your position!”
“I’m certain this has been a surprise,” the Paragon said. “We can give Queen Leila a week.”
“But, Paragon!” Lady Demetria scowled at me. “Our Court is already in such a dire condition! We need our queen—”
“It’s been months since Nyte died, and you survived this long,” the Paragon said. “You can survive another week. She deserves a chance to prepare herself.”
He glanced pityingly at Mom and Dad.
I, however, stared at the line of gun wielding vampires lining my driveway, the wheels in my mind turning.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
I wasn’t going to take a week to mope around the house. Heck no, I was going to use that week to learn to defend myself. Hopefully by begging some of the sharpshooting Drake vampires to give me a refresher course on handguns. (They had insisted I learn how to use a handgun when I first started training their dogs, but my skills had probably atrophied since they started teaching me.)
“This will also give the Court a chance to prepare a welcome for you.” The Paragon tried to scratch his chin, but his fingers got tangled in his long mustache, and he grunted in pain when he tried to pull his hands free and instead yanked his head forward.
“I’m sure they’ll welcome her with open arms,” Killian said in a voice sharp enough to cut through cement as he stared Suits and Lady Demetria down.
That suitably cowed the pair, and brought another sort of stillness to the pasture.
“Right,” the Paragon said. “Well, then, Killian—what say we retire and each get a pint?”
Killian pointedly glanced at the sky—which was still cloudy, but showed patches of bright blue. “I did not peg you as a day drinker.”
“You thought I was referring to alcohol? Gross—no.” The Paragon shivered in revulsion. “I meant ice cream! We can go to my private study—I have a pint of Sinfully Dark Chocolate and Caramel Peanut Cluster. Hazel, if you like I can have Aphrodite pick out a tea for you.”
“No thank you,” Hazel firmly said.
The Paragon jutted his lower lip out in a pout. “You never let me serve you tea anymore.”
“That’s because youdruggedme the last time I did!” Hazel said.
