Page 70 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

“We have our next session tomorrow morning, so you should sleep soon, too.”

“Yep.”

“Don’t go anywhere. I mean it.” Her voice was even more annoyed. “I don’t want to wake up to find out that someone got eaten or something.”

Argos smirked. “I don’t eat people. Just drink their blood.”

“Not funny.” Theora finished her nightly beauty routine before exiting the bathroom, her attitude suddenly shifting to awkwardness when their gazes met. “Just so we’re on the same page about this, what happened today was a onetime deal.”

He blinked away the memory of the hungry look in Theora’s eyes when she was looking up at him on the ferry. “Yeah. No. I get that.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to touch each other at all now, if there’s no one around to see.”

“Completely agree.”

“You’ve proven your point quite thoroughly, so…that’s done.”

Argos raised a brow. “Thoroughly, huh?”

Even if Theora’s glare remained displeased, he could smell that she was reliving that ferry ride, same as him. He wanted to taste her again, wanted to make her come even harder.

“Okay,” Theora said quickly, before hurrying off to bed. “Fine, then.”

“Fine,” he agreed, heading out to the living room.

“Wash your hands.”

He paused, smirking. “I will.”

He didn’t. He changed his clothes and waited until Theora’s breath was even and unbothered, before quietly emptying his suitcase and tearing out the lining to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside was a three-foot-long blade, narrow but still substantial, made wholly of woven silk. A material that metal detectors couldn’t trace.

From another nook of the lining, he removed an armored shirt and donned it quickly.

If they thought he was actually going to go an entire week without a weapon or armor, they clearly knew nothing about Warriors.

He dumped his clothing back into the suitcase and made his way to the tunnel door, ascending the small pull-down ladder armed and ready. The key was in the lock, so he brought it along with him, locking it behind him to keep Theora secure inside.

The tunnel network here was dark, dirty, uneven. Clearly unused for quite some time. He followed his nose until he could smell civilization under his feet. The farther he went, the more familiar the scents. The farmer’s market. The lobby. The familiar shifting into the unfamiliar. The other side of the colony, perhaps?

By then he had been wandering around for hours, tracking and backtracking, avoiding well-used tunnels, and he was beyond agitated. He needed something to kill, or at least something to stalk—he hadn’t been hunting for an entire day, and for such a large colony, there seemed to be a lack of physical excursions, of ways to blow off steam other than the gym.

And then…hope. The hint of something like…honey.

He grinned. When he’d exited the suite, he hadn’t anticipated the opportunity to actually kill Pyre. Theora wouldn’t like it—she certainly hadn’t appreciated the first kill he brought her. But he’d accepted the mission of protecting her for this very reason. To avenge Izzi.

After all, Pyre had been the only one to suspect him of anything, and if he could get away with killing a war commander, he could certainly pull off killing a queen.

He followed the scent until it was clear that he had found the Vespulan wing. There was a door, chained as his had been, but it was locked from the inside of the wing.

He checked his watch. He’d been prowling around all night, and it was now early morning. He could pull this off, if he could get rid of this chain quietly enough.

But he suddenly paused as another familiar scent caught his nose.

He lay on the ground, attempting to see through the small crack in the door. Light, but nothing else. He heard whispered conversation but couldn’t make out the words. Still, his nose could never deceive him. He could single out Pyre and her gaggle of maids. And he could most definitely smell the polite nuisance that was Apollo.

So, he hadn’t been crazy at lunch when he’d smelled a Vespulan all over Apollo. It had been subtle, as if the prick had washed and changed before he’d joined them on the excursion. Perhaps only his hair had kept the scent.

Dark sentinels.