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Princess of Shadows (Obsidian Queen Book 2) Page 2
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We turn into the drive, and I stare out the window, taking in the home I grew up in. It’s large and lovely, part of a sprawling subdivision. Mom’s roses are in full bloom, and the lawn has recently been mowed. Everything is as it should be, but it’s weird to be back.
Rafe’s silver car pulls up behind us. Gray glances back as he and Jonathan help me carry my things up the front entry and frowns. “Since Trent is still on the loose, we’ll set up a guard rotation. I have some paperwork to fill out at the office, and then I’ll be back.”
“No need,” Rafe says as he jogs up the steps. “I’ll watch over Madeline.”
Gray turns his eyes on me, asking if that’s what I want. There’s only one right response, and it’s not the one I’m going to give him.
“I’ll be fine with Rafe,” I say.
The Wolf looks at my knight, not even bothering to hide his irritation. Rafe doesn’t flinch—he doesn’t respond in any way. He merely stands there, waiting for Gray to leave.
“Who’s a good kitty?” Eric says to Charles, peering into the crate as he walks up the wide entry stairs, oblivious to the testosterone showdown happening between Rafe and Gray. Before he hands me my cat, he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to leave him with me for a few more days?”
I take the carrier, rolling my eyes. “I’m sure.”
“Remember, when you take him outside—”
“Sunscreen,” I interrupt. “I got it.”
Amusement creases his eyes, and he steps in, enveloping me in an all-consuming bear hug. I wrap my free arm around him, squeezing him right back. It’s a goodbye hug. A farewell hug. An I-know-you’ve-decided-to-leave-the-team hug.
“Bye, Eric,” I murmur, feeling oddly emotional.
He steps away, and Jonathan moves forward. The Griffon drapes his arm around my shoulders in a friendly side embrace. “We’ll see you around.”
Gray lets out a low growl. “What is with you two? She’s not going anywhere.”
I meet the Wolf’s eyes. I am, and he knows it. He just doesn’t want to admit it yet.
“Goodbye, Gray.” I wonder if he’ll hug me, wonder if he’ll demand I send Rafe away so he can tell me that I’m wrong. That I was special. That I wasn’t just a nameless girl in the parade of females that waltz through his bedroom.
But he doesn’t.
He only nods, his eyes hard, and turns down the steps, barking at Jonathan and Eric to hurry up so they can get to the office.
I hold up a hand as Jonathan pulls from our circle drive, a listless goodbye.
“Want some help with your things?” Rafe asks after they pull onto the street and disappear behind our distant neighbor’s landscaping.
“Yeah.” I turn to my knight and give him a hesitant smile. “Thanks.”
Together, we haul my luggage into the house, and I close the door on a very brief, but very memorable, time of my life.
CHAPTER TWO
I get a serious case of déjà vu as I barge into my ex’s office. Finn’s at his desk, frowning at a stack of paperwork. When he looks up, he seems less than surprised to see my not-so-smiling face.
“Hello, Finn,” I say curtly, absently noting the similarities between him and his half-brother. Dark hair, blue eyes, philandering ways. “I’m here to discuss my new apprenticeship assignment.”
A strange emotion flits across his face. It appears to be a combination of guilt and nausea. It’s not a good look for him. “What kind of apprenticeship are you looking for?”
That’s more like it.
“Something in hospitality.”
“Are you…sure?”
Why does he look like he swallowed a toad?
I step forward, walking across his plush rug, leaving stiletto imprints in the fibers. “I'm quite sure. In fact, if you’ll remember, I’ve wanted a space in hospitality for quite some time.”
My tone is snarky, and he flinches like I slapped him.
Encouraged by his response, I continue, “We’ll just pretend this little hiccup in my plans never happened. Thankfully, your brother saved you from spending a nice vacation in the Dungeon, so you’re available to shift things around.”
“No, I know that…” He clears his throat and turns to his paperwork like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen in his life. “I suppose Gray mentioned that I’m now seeing Maisy? I thought you might find the apprenticeship uncomfortable…”
I clench my teeth so tightly, there’s a real chance I’m going to chip a tooth. After a moment, when I feel I can contain myself, I give him a tight smile. “He didn’t mention it.”
Finn nods, still too gutless to meet my eyes. “Oh, well. I am. Officially seeing Maisy. Now.”
“Good for you.”
The lord winces. “So…you would still like in hospitality?”
I almost say yes out of spite, but the fact is I don’t want to work that closely to Maisy, especially now that they’re together. What kind of girl has an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend? My dear friend Maisy, apparently.
Now that I think of it, however, if I take the position, I could enjoy a front row seat to their eventual breakup. But still.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
“The Knights’ Guild could use another office girl,” he so graciously offers as he rubs the back of his neck. “Though it would be a significant cut in the pay level you’re at now.”
Office girl.
“How about this.” I set my palms on the desk and lean forward, making him meet my eyes. “You give me a call when something else comes up. You know how to reach me.”
“Does this mean you’re leaving Gray’s team?”
I narrow my eyes. “I think we both know I never really had a place on it.”
Finn gulps and then gives me a very small, very fearful nod. Without another word, I turn on my heel and walk from the office.
***
“There’s a man here to see you, Miss Madeline,” Lillian says as she pokes her head into my bedroom. Her dark brown hair is pulled up in a severe bun that’s softened only by the laugh lines around her eyes. Because my parents are gone, she’s exchanged her usual attire for jean shorts and a bright red tank top, and she’s wearing sparkly flip-flops instead of her usual white tennis shoes. She looks like she’s going to an afternoon barbecue.
Instantly wary, I sit up straighter in my chair by the sleeping fireplace. The last stranger who came calling ended up hiring a pixie to kidnap me and then lured gargoyles to attack in the night, just to see if I had the power to control them.
“What does he look like?” I ask.
My thirty-seven-year-old German housekeeper smirks. “Delicious.”
I roll my eyes. There are a lot of delicious men in my life at the moment. Not exactly a bad problem for a girl to have—unless she’s taking a break from men, that is. “That only narrows the options.”
“Tall, dark, handsome…”
Raising an eyebrow, I deadpan, “Blue eyes or brown?”
“Brown. And a butt you could crack walnuts on.”
Jonathan.
“That’s disturbing.” I laugh despite myself and shake my head, trying to rid myself of that mental picture.
I follow Lillian downstairs and find the handsome Griffon sitting on a couch in the living room, flipping through one of my mother’s magazines.
“Have you noticed,” he says to me without looking up, “that these headlines all seem to say ’Lose Twenty Pounds in One Afternoon!’ and yet there’s usually a chocolate cake on the cover?” He tosses the magazine aside, meets my eyes, and gives me a crooked smile that he knows is charming. “What is that?”
I don’t even bother with the codeword we devised to make sure the pixie wasn’t impersonating anyone on our team. No one can do Jonathan but Jonathan himself.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him after Lillian excuses herself and pointedly closes the door behind her, giving us privacy.
“A little Bunny told me you offi
cially left our team,” he answers.
“Does that Bunny look like he should be aboard a ship with a dragon on the prow?”
Jonathan stands, stretching, and meanders toward me, taking his time to cross the room. “As a matter of fact, he does.”
I knew this discussion would be awkward. I’ve only been part of the group for a few weeks, but a lot has happened since then. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t going to miss them at least a little bit.
“Gray’s livid,” Jonathan informs me. “Just so you know.”
“I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
“Eric’s heartbroken.”
“I’ll give him visitation rights with Charles.”
He smirks. “I’m not upset though.”
I cross my arms, a smile stealing across my face without my permission. “You’re not?”
“Nah.” He stops about a foot in front of me, that smirk turning into a wicked grin. “I know why you left. It’s because you want me, isn’t it? Because you know we shouldn’t be together if you’re on the team.”
He raises an eyebrow, giving me an exaggerated come-hither look.
I laugh. “Yes, Jonathan. You got me—that’s exactly what it is.”
“There’s a troll in Pueblo,” he says, abruptly changing the subject. “We’re supposed to arrest him. Thought you might like to know.”
Grimacing, I shake my head. “You’re trying to lure me back with a troll?”
“You say that now, but you haven’t seen the upgrades I’ve made to your Taser.”
“Upgrades?”
He pulls the little weapon from his back pocket and grins.
The afternoon light shines through the western facing windows, lighting the room with gold, making it warm and inviting. It also sparkles on the hundreds of rhinestones that now adorn the familiar little weapon in Jonathan’s hand.
“You decorated it?” I ask, incredulous, taking it to inspect further. Sure enough, it’s the same one…but now it’s sparkly. I look up. “Is that even safe?”
Jonathan frowns as if he didn’t think that far into it. “I have no idea.”
Laughing, I hand him back the small stun gun. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I really am. But I’m not cut out for this life.”
He nods, giving me a smile that’s somehow more of a frown. “I had to try. We’re gonna miss you, you know.”
“Nah. You’ll like having a bathroom all to yourself.”
The Griffon chuckles and tugs me into an embrace, looping his arms around my back. This isn’t like yesterday’s draped-arm move. It’s a real hug—though one considerate enough to stay clear of skin-to-skin contact so he won’t have access to my thoughts.
I’ve never been this close to Jonathan before. He gave me a piggyback ride when I sliced my foot open in the streets of South Lake Tahoe, and I’ve sat next to him in the car, but we’ve never actually embraced. At six foot, he’s shorter than the other guys, but he’s still five inches taller than me. It’s sort of nice not to feel entirely dwarfed.
I relax into him, relishing the physical contact with someone who doesn’t want or expect anything from me.
“You’re short,” Jonathan says after a moment, and then he pulls back and looks down at my bare feet. “You’re not in heels.”
“I’m at home.”
“Your toenails are hot pink.”
“Don’t tell my mother.”
He gives me a rueful smile as he lets me go. “You sure I can’t change your mind?”
I shake my head.
“All right.” He points at me as he heads to the door. “But I’m keeping your Taser.”
“Now the truth comes out,” I tease. “You said you added sparkles for me, but you secretly wanted it for yourself.”
The Griffon’s at the door now, but he pauses halfway out. He stands there for a moment, looking like he wants to say something else. “See you later, Madeline. Don’t be a stranger.”
And then he’s gone. Half hiding behind the curtain, I watch him jog down the landscaped entry, heading toward his silver Corvette.
Part of me—a stupid part—wants to stop him, tell him I’ll come back. But why? What’s the point?
Just as he’s leaving, an Audi coupe pulls up. Some of the weird melancholy leaves me as dark-haired, tall and scrumptious Rafe steps out of the driver’s door. He laughs as he stops to talk to Jonathan.
The two knights eventually part, and I open the door and give Jonathan one last wave as he pulls away. Rafe’s halfway up the steps when I say, “And here I thought you changed your mind about the whole personal knight thing.”
He’s been gone most of the day.
Rafe gives me one of his signature smiles—the one where his mouth barely moves but his eyes shine. They’re quickly becoming one of my favorite things ever. “Next time, you’re coming with me,” he says.
“I stayed in the house, as promised.”
It’s weird having a personal protector, someone born to keep an eye on me, do my bidding. It’s even weirder that Rafe seems to be taking this whole Obsidian Knight thing so seriously. It would probably be different if it weren’t for the bloodthirsty pixie on the loose.
“Yes, but I see you let Jonathan in.” His cobalt eyes meet mine, and I can’t tell how he feels about it.
“Well, yeah. It’s Jonathan. Was I supposed to ask Lillian to turn him away?”
He steps a little too close, pulled by the strange magnetism our magic creates. “You can do whatever you want.”
“He tried to lure me back with a sparkly Taser,” I tell him.
Rafe’s eyes crinkle with amusement, but he doesn’t respond.
“So…” I step into the foyer, knowing he’ll follow. “Did you find anything you liked?”
With his house in Tahoe up for sale, he’s been looking for something here in Avon. From what I understand, his parents are thrilled to have him home again. Even dark-hearted members of the Entitled love their baby boys.
“Nothing yet.”
Lillian steps into the foyer, beaming when she sees Rafe. She’s a big, big fan of all the new men in my life. “Rafe, are you hungry? Thirsty? I made a fresh batch of lemonade this morning. Come into the kitchen. I’ll pour you a glass and make you a sandwich.”
She leaves the foyer before he can answer.
He flashes me an amused look, and we follow Lillian into her gleaming kitchen. She’s already set out an array of fixings, and she’s pulling out a homemade loaf of soft, chewy white bread from the breadbox. There’s a carrot cake under the glass dome in the corner and apricot bars in the cookie jar.
Staying thin in this house is a daily battle.
In the blink of an eye, Rafe has a double-decker Black Forest ham sandwich, cut into wedges, a generous portion of deviled egg potato salad, one sweet pickle that Lillian canned herself, and a piece of cake on the side.
“Will you be staying for dinner?” she asks as she pours him a glass of lemonade to wash it all down. “Madeline likes to eat light when her parents are away, but I can make scampi.”
Rafe gives her a rare grin. “It’s after five o’clock. Isn’t this dinner?”
She waves the question away like he’s joking and simultaneously pushes a sliver of cake toward me and hands me a fork.
“Oh, Lillian, I shouldn’t—”
“No preservatives,” she says in her thick, lovable accent, reading my mind. “All homemade—I grated the carrots myself. It’s practically health food.”
Sure, health food. Except there’s enough sugar in this small slice to kill a giant.
But there are starving people in the world—it would be wrong of me to turn this down. I’m not exactly sure where the logic is there, but I’m going to go with it.
Lillian leaves the kitchen, and I take a bite and close my eyes, savoring the rich, silky cream cheese frosting. When I open my eyes, I find Rafe watching me.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head and takes a bite of his sandwich. Self-c
onscious, I dab my mouth with a napkin.
Once we’re finished, I glance at him, unsure of myself and our odd situation.
“Now what?” I ask.
His deep blue eyes meet mine. “What were you doing while I was looking at houses?”
Painting my toenails hot pink.
“Not much.”
“Just do whatever you’d do if I weren’t here.”
That’s so much easier said than done.
“What about your job?” I ask him, sliding off my stool, wrapping the rest of the slice and tucking it in the fridge for later. “Won’t the Knights’ Guild put you on another assignment?”
“I resigned this morning.”
I gape at him. “You resigned? How are you going to buy a house? Afford to live? Surely you can’t stay by my side twenty-four hours a day.”
Because I’ll go crazy. I’m not ready for that kind of relationship, even if it’s purely platonic.
Kinda platonic.
Mostly platonic?
Guy diet, Madeline.
“I don’t need to work,” he answers most cryptically.
Of course he doesn’t.
Perhaps reading the panic on my face, he says, “After we catch Trent, I’ll give you as much space as you want. For now, I feel more comfortable staying close.”
Stupid pixie. We haven’t seen any sign of him in over a week, and he’s still making my life difficult.
“Okay…” I glance around, looking for something to do.
“There’s a game on this evening,” Rafe finally says, helping me out. “That’s more than enough to keep me entertained.”
“Is it all right if I go to my room without you?”
A mischievous look crosses his face. It’s subtle, just a small quirk of a dark eyebrow and a tilt of his closed lips, but it’s there. “Would you rather I join you?”
“I’ll show you to the living room,” I squeak. “You should be comfortable in there.”
He chuckles under his breath and follows me out of the kitchen.
Once he’s settled, I awkwardly stand in the arched doorway.
“It’s fine, Lexie,” he says, using a nickname that’s his own private joke. “You don’t have to entertain me.”
But leaving feels so wrong.