“Do you not remember me?” the man asked, ignoring the other person and his questions.
The fan still recorded, swinging his phone between Maeve and the man before her.
Maeve swallowed on a dry throat and pulled her hand back from the book, her movements slow and careful. “I’m sorry, I—no. No, I don’t know you.”
Those thin lips tilted up in a sardonic smile. “I think you lie.”
Maeve blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then she jumped and shrieked as a hand came down on her shoulder, breaking the spell.
Jen jumped as well, her hand flying to hover over her heart. “My goodness, Maeve, you scared me! What’s wrong with you?”
Maeve jerked her gaze back to the man insinuating himself as Rodan, but he disappeared, a dark head of hair bobbing away from her through the crowd of convention-goers. Touching a hand to her throat, her pulse fluttering and jumping under her fingers, Maeve struggled to catch her breath and speak.
“Are you okay?” the fan with the camera asked, finally putting it away and stepping up to the booth. “Did you know that guy? Is he who you based King Rodan on?”
Maeve shook her head but offered a slight smile to the man. “No. I’m sorry, I just—never mind. Did you have a book you wanted me to sign?”
Jen patted her shoulder. “Ten more minutes.”
Maeve gave a numb nod while taking the book—The Whispering Grass—from the fan with the camera. He chatted, and she tuned him out as she scribbled a few words in his book and signed her name with its standard flourish.
That being the last of them, Maeve stood to grab her light jacket to leave the booth, her legs shaking so bad that she almost stumbled. She pressed a hand against the wall and tried to regulate her breathing.
Jen frowned at her. “Is something wrong? You’re pale.”
Maeve shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I need to catch my breath.”
“Catch your breath? From what?” Jen put the back of her hand to Maeve’s forehead. “You’re not warm. We have an hour before your next panel. Do you want to get a coffee?”
She forced a smile. “Yeah. That’d be lovely.”
She followed Jen out of the convention center floor to the bright L.A. sunshine, slinging her jacket over her arm. As she walked, she tried to push the Rodan lookalike from her mind. It was a cosplayer, she reassured herself, someone, a little too into the books. You can get contacts to make your eyes like that.
But they hadn’t seemed like the artificial colors of contacts. They appeared real. As real as the last time Maeve gazed upon eyes like that.
Join me, and I will give you everything you have ever desired.
She shuddered despite the warm spring air and clutched her purse and jacket tighter.
Forget it, she chided herself. He won’t be back.
CHAPTER TWO
Rodan
FOR TWENTY-SEVEN DAYS, Rodan walked Maeve’s world.
It felt familiar now, finding his way around new worlds and strange cities. He moved from world to world, place to place, for decades. Ever since Sebastian took the throne. Ever since Maeve helped him.
Rodan went back to The Five Realms on occasion, for quick reconnaissance missions. He kept tabs on his old empire, for he pledged to himself that the day would soon come when he would run the trials and battle Sebastian once more for the position of the High Seat.
He needed the right companion.
Maeve Almeida.
Seeing her again jolted his system in a way that he did not expect. The girl he remembered—the plucky teenage heroine who worked alongside his greatest nemesis—was a shadow compared to the woman she had become. Maeve’s copper brown hair fell past her shoulders now, and citrine colored eyes flashed behind her bangs. The figure glimpsed behind her tight leggings and long tunic was shapely yet athletic. More curves dominated her body, and she possessed a sharp, penetrating gaze that he could not ignore.
When last they met, Maeve had only just blossomed into womanhood. She intrigued him, but not just her body. Rarely could a human wield power with the finesse and flair she exhibited. He wanted that power on his side. Then as much as now.
Now, he must stay focused on the trials. The rules of his land—the rules that he set into the very bones of the earth—dictated that any challenger possess at least one companion. A second, to take the challengers place if they fell along the way.
Maeve proved herself a formidable adversary, even at such a young age, and powers only grew with time. What could she do now?
Rodan needed Maeve back in the Realms. If she could see what happened in her absence, she would accept the companionship bond and work with him.
Unless he misread her.
Rodan sat in an outdoor café, a paper cup of coffee before him. Other convention-goers, businessmen and women, and the flowing traffic of this world sat there, too, or moved by him, some eyes straying to where he sat.
Here, because of the other fantasy lovers, he wore the same garb he did in the Realms, not bothering to try and blend in with the jeans and buttons downs he had worn over the previous weeks. It was a pleasant feeling, to be in clothes of his own design and reminiscent of his years as king. A girl, one of the serving women at the establishment, cleared the table near his and darted glances at him, her eyelashes fluttering when he caught her eyes. He smiled but turned his head away. There was no time for such things.
He pulled one of their paper monies out of the slim leather wallet he’d bought at the gold changers house and set it on the table under the half-full coffee cup. Standing, he gave a quick smile to the waitress and headed to the corner crosswalk.
“Wow,” someone said to his left. He glanced down and noticed a woman in an outfit similar to what might be seen in one of the brothels of the Five Realms, “Who are you cosplaying as? You did great work.”
“Thank you,” Rodan murmured, and gave a polite smile. “King Rodan from the Five Realms.”
“Oh! You did so much better than that dumb movie. Awesome job!” She gave a little wave and walked off, away from the convention center.
Rodan lifted his gaze to the grand glass and stone building which housed the convention. By eyeballing the position of their single sun, he understood it to be close to when Maeve would make another appearance before her fans.
He went to every panel Maeve sat on. After discovering their communication devices also accessed a fantastic database of knowledge known as the ‘internet,’ he discovered all the information he needed to ensure his presence at each of Maeve’s appearances. Entire websites were devoted to her and her books.
He read all those books in the first week of being in her world. Then reread them.
Rodan had to admit to himself, as he crossed through the doors into the convention center and showed his badge to one of the attendants, that he enjoyed the recognition this place offered him.
“Dude!” someone said, a man coming to a standstill in front of him, “Excellent costume! King Rodan, right?”
Rodan smiled, “Yes.”
“I have got to get a selfie with you.” The man, dressed in the robes of a wizard, pulled out his camera and snapped a quick photograph with Rodan. Flipping the camera around to check out the result, he grinned and showed him, “Looking good, my man. This is going up on my Instagram. Can I tag you?”