As she stood, her eyes latched onto Elrian’s, and a thick silence blanketed the room. I could almost feel Fallon’s heavy gaze on the pair. Finally, Fay cleared her throat and straightened, lifting the tray of splattered food. “You sure did give me a fright.”
“My apologies.” Elrian’s head dipped, gaze sweeping the floor.
“Don’t mind our unwanted visitor,” Fallon muttered under his breath.
“I’ll just run back downstairs and bring you another tray.” She turned to the king and offered a smile, her cheeks rosy. “Will you be eating as well?”
“No, unfortunately not. I will be departing shortly.”
“You sure, honey? My breakfast is renowned across all of Maginaria.”
A wistful smile split his lips, the warmth actually reaching his cold eyes, and something unreadable flashed across his expression. “I’m sure it is,” he finally said. “But I must get home.”
“Suit yourself.” She lifted a dainty shoulder and sauntered to the door.
When she walked out, Fallon’s gaze wasn’t the only one that trailed her movements this time. Or maybe I imagined the king watching her because I wanted it to be true. As soon as the door closed, Fallon whirled at his father.
“So that’s not my mother? The woman who is the mirror image of the only female you’ve ever loved?”
“Of course not. I’ve never met that woman in my life. And I disagree, she doesn’t look at all like Kimmie.”
Fallon grunted.
“Now, tell me where I can find that idiot, Sheppard Hawke. I will not be approving any of this footage, obviously.”
“I have no idea where he’s staying,” said Fallon. “He was supposed to contact us today.”
“I’ll find him and put an end to this debacle.” The king stepped closer to Fallon, and a hint of warmth tinged his stony eyes. “Don’t look for trouble, son. It’ll find you soon enough.” He slapped the younger Fae on the cheek, a little too roughly if you asked me, then turned to the door. He barely spared me a passing glance.
The moment it slammed shut, Fallon let out a breath, his broad shoulders sagging.
“Is your dad always that intense?”
“That was nothing,” he muttered.
Despite the fact I still hadn’t quite forgiven my Fae bachelor, I wrapped my arms around his waist and gave him a tight squeeze. I had a feeling he needed it. Neither of us said anything for a long minute, but I could feel the tension seep away as his strained muscles loosened beneath me with each passing moment. So I held onto him because no one should have a dad that was a total asshole.
Eventually, Fallon rested his chin on the top of my head, and his icy breath skimmed through my hair. “It’s her, I know it is. I just don’t know what to do with that.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Elrian wouldn’t have come all this way if it wasn’t.” He loosed another breath, the icy exhale sending goosebumps over my bare arms. “There isn’t much that forces the Winter king from his throne.”
“Okay, so we talk to Fay and tell her the truth.”
His whole body tensed, and it suddenly felt like I was holding onto the slick side of a glacier. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered.
“Maybe there’s some way to remove the compulsion, but we’ll never find out if Fay’s not onboard.” I released Fallon and fixed my eyes to his. “We’ve come all this way, don’t you want the truth?”
“Of course, I do,” he gritted out. “But what if by finding out, we put her life at risk like Elrian said?”
I shook my head. “We won’t let that happen. You’ve survived so far, right?” I shot him a cheeky grin.
“Barely.” He towed me closer to his body and rested his forehead against mine. “And I hate dragging you into the middle of all this.”
“I told you when we got here, it’s too late. I’m in.”
His lips brushed mine, tentatively. When I didn’t pull away, I fully expected him to deepen the kiss, but instead, he kept it soft and gentle, releasing me a moment later. “Thank you,” he murmured against my mouth.
“You can thank me with some breakfast. Let’s go down to the diner so we can chat Fay up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I rubbed my swollen belly as Fallon and I strolled along the cobblestone streets of Maginaria. “Man, that breakfast was fantastic. Fay was not lying about her bacon and eggs.”
“No, she wasn’t, but someone’s definitely been lying to her.”
We’d peppered Fay with dozens of questions, but she seemed totally clueless. I’d even brought up Elrian a few times and her expression had blanked. The weirdest thing was that she hadn’t even recognized the Fae king. Elrian was a notorious figure in Azar, most would have, which only further confirmed our compulsion theory.
“So… are we going to tell her the truth or what?”
Fallon’s face paled, and it looked like he was a second away from revisiting that delicious breakfast. “Maybe tonight, after the diner closes.”
“We don’t have much more time, Fal. What if Elrian decides we got too close, and he whisks her away to some secret location? You don’t want to miss this chance.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
A rush of voices drew our attention to the center square of Midtowne. A huge crowd had gathered around the garish statue in the middle of the green. An enormous sculpture of the high warlock Garrix, leader of the realm, had been erected in gold. From far, I could make out something hanging from his outstretched arms.
“What is that?” I mumbled.
Fallon’s hand clasped mine as he quickened his pace. Sharp gasps and murmured cries intensified the closer we got. I stood on my tiptoes to see over the crowd, and a pit of dread unfurled in my gut. A figure was splayed across the statue’s open arms, the man’s face so badly bruised, he was hard to recognize. But that three-piece suit with the matching pocket square… I sucked in a breath.
Fallon muttered a curse and pushed his way through the crowd. “Out of the way, move!”
I trailed behind him, my feet like lead weights as the gawkers parted. When we reached the sculpture of the warlock, I lifted my gaze to the dangling body, and icy fear clamped around my lungs. “Is that…?”
Fallon leapt up atop the pedestal and swung one arm around Garrix’s golden bicep. He hauled himself up, and my eyes trailed his as they scanned the battered body. “Sheppard,” he hissed.
4
MOMMY NOT SO DEAREST
Holy shit. “Is Sheppard dead?”
Fallon tipped his head to the producer’s chest. “No, thank the gods.”
I drew in a deep breath and sent a prayer to the universe. The man was a sleezy scumbag, but I sure as hell didn’t want him dead. We didn’t need to add to the death toll of the infamous Hitched.
Fallon gently lifted Shep’s broken body off the warlock statue’s outstretched arms and cradled it against his own. He lifted his eyes to the sky, scanning the blue for the familiar drones, but as usual there was never one in sight when you needed it. Where the hell was the camera crew anyway?