Home > Wandering Queen(4)

Wandering Queen(4)
Author: May Dawson

I cocked my head, staring at him. “Are you a vampire?”

“No…” He frowned impatiently.

I could tell he was about to say something else, so I beat him to the punch. “Shifter?”

He was so big, I could peg him as a shifter easily.

“No,” he scoffed.

“Witch?” I asked brightly.

“No.”

“Evil?” That was the part that mattered most. I never hurt anyone who didn’t hurt someone else first.

His brows arched over those icy eyes. “No.”

Must be a Hunter then, to have caught my stray vamp as soon as he broke away. He was an unusually reckless, confident, sexy man, even by Hunter standards. But he was just another human.

“Then I don’t give a damn about you,” I told him, heading toward the far edge of the roof. “You’re cute, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious, but you seem like trouble, and I find enough of that on my own.”

His lips parted, and he seemed to stumble over what to say to that. Since it was always nice to leave a man speechless, it was the perfect time for me to walk away.

“You need answers, Alisa,” he called after me. “I can give you answers.”

I started to run, picking up speed. I jumped nimbly onto the ledge of the building and my momentum powered my leap to the next rooftop. I landed cleanly, on my feet, my knees buckling for just a second before I caught myself.

I whirled, taking a step back. He stood there watching me, his light eyes eerie at this distance. I almost faltered, sure he wasn’t human, that he was my business after all.

But he wanted something from me, and there was nothing I wanted to give to anyone but my Hunter friends.

I spread my arms out in an exaggerated shrug. “Meh.”

Then I turned and sashayed off toward the next rooftop, leaving Duncan-the-gorgeous-weirdo behind.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Azrael

 

“She was drunk?” I asked skeptically, staring at my best friend in the dim light of the bar where we’d taken shelter.

The Alisa I knew didn’t get drunk, not even during solstice.

“Tell me the part again where she said you’re cute.” Tiron took a long sip from his Scotch, but even with his face partially concealed by the crystal glass, his eyes danced with mischief.

There were some benefits to being in the human world. Not many, but whiskey in all its various and glorious forms was one.

Duncan snorted at him. “Focusing on the important details, as usual.”

“Where did she go?”

“She ran away, like she always does.” Duncan sounded dismissive, and I frowned at him.

“You didn’t lose her?”

“Of course I didn’t lose her,” Duncan said. “The hounds and I tracked her back to her pathetic house. It’s not even a house. A segment of a house.”

He shifted, his hand concealed under the table, and I knew he was reaching to pat one of his hounds. The two hulking creatures hid under the table, not that it mattered; they were invisible to humans, and the barkeep was our servant now anyway.

“The word you’re looking for is apartment,” Tiron supplied helpfully. “You spend enough time in the human world. Are you really too obstinate to learn their culture?”

“Can you call it culture, though?” Duncan asked. “Does pigs wallowing in filth a culture make?”

He was in a fine mood today, even by Duncan’s standards.

“Do you think she truly lost her memories?” I asked.

Duncan nodded. “She didn’t recognize me. She was genuinely curious who I am. What I am.”

“She wouldn’t have said you were cute if she recognized you,” Tiron observed.

“I am cute, though,” Duncan muttered. Then he admitted, “If she’d recognized me, she would have run.”

That was wishful thinking on his part. If Alisa had recognized him, she might have put a blade through his gut.

“How’d she survive all these years without any clue who she is or what she can do?” I wondered out loud.

“Princess Alisa is quite good at surviving,” Duncan said dryly. “Even though her presence reduces everyone else’s odds.”

He might hate her more than I did. She simply betrayed me and my court. For Duncan, she betrayed his brother. That was a far more serious crime.

“Do you think she might come with us willingly?” I asked. “Once she understands who she is?”

“No.” Duncan’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. If I didn’t know the man beneath the angry mask, that face would terrify even me a little. “I think we’ll have to take her back.”

Tiron tilted his head to one side, studying Duncan. “Why don’t you let me go and talk to her? It would be nice if we didn’t have to thump the princess over the head and drag her back home unwillingly.”

“Would it?” Duncan questioned. “I think the thumping and the dragging sounds nicer. For us.”

“Thank you, Tiron,” I told the younger man. “But I’ll go. She and I have history. Faer wants to know if she has any memories or if the reports are true. She won’t be able to fake it with me.”

“I need to see for myself,” I added to Duncan. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t trust his judgment.

Tiron nodded. Far from seeming offended, Duncan’s dangerous grin widened. Whether he thought an encounter between Alisa and me would punish me or punish her, I had no idea, but Duncan had a sadistic streak.

“Let’s go to this apartment,” I suggested.

“That’s not a good idea,” Tiron said. “You’ll scare her.”

Duncan snorted. “Proof you do not know Alisa.”

“She might try to kill you,” Tiron amended.

“Oh yes,” I said. “But she has tried that many times before. I don’t mind.”

My heart quickened at the thought of being face-to-face with my queen, my former fiancé, my betrayer.

But I knew my outward appearance gave no indication of my reaction. I took another long, slow sip, finishing off my whiskey. Duncan still side-eyed me; he was a male of few words who still managed to get his judgments across.

Duncan knew me well enough to know my heart always raced when it came to Alisa—with love, or hate, or a dangerous combination of both.

“This is a bad idea,” Tiron said lightly.

“You always say that,” Duncan reminded him, rising from his seat. “And you’re always outvoted.”

“And we always end up in trouble,” Tiron shot back. “Maybe you should listen.”

“In the end, she’s just one spoiled little girl with a sword,” Duncan said. “If she gets too feisty, Azrael can throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the portal.”

The image was so ridiculous that I smiled. “It almost seems like you’ve been cursed with forgetfulness.”

Alisa had indeed always been spoiled and willful.

But she was also dangerous.

Delightfully so.

Or at least, that was how I’d seen her once.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

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