“Is that so?” His brows winged up, his smugness as irritating as it was sexy. “How do you enter?”
“You offer payment, and you receive a key.” In the game, you paid with blood rubies—also known as credit cards. Maybe Kaysar had packed some coins in the satchel? “Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”
He glowered at her.
Cookie dropped her gaze to the bag. He noticed. Of course he noticed. She dove for it anyway. He flittered, and she swiped nothing but air. Dang him.
He appeared a few feet away, still holding the bag and scowling. “You want to visit the outpost? Very well. We’ll visit the outpost.” He reached inside the bag and withdrew a diamond choker. “The worth of this far surpasses the cost of a key, yet we’ll receive no reimbursement. I hope you’re happy, Chantel.”
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. She’d carried jewels?
Complain about the weight of the bag? Never again. Worth every ache. “That is...” What word would do that masterpiece of glittering stones justice? Oh, yes. “That is mine,” she said, making grabby hands. She’d never owned anything so fine. I’ll wear it every day, no matter which yoga pants I select. Heck, she might even decide to be cremated in the thing.
Kaysar regarded her with a curious look before lifting his arm, ensuring the magnificent stones remained just out of her reach. “Since you have indicated this is a price you are willing to pay...” He slapped the necklace against the symbol carved into the tree.
The diamonds vanished, a piece of fruit plopping to the ground.
“Tell me I have more necklaces in the bag,” she beseeched. Ugh. What was wrong with her? She’d never reacted to anything this way. But the necklace... She wanted it back.
The curious look returned. He watched her intently as he announced, “You have a collection of necklaces in the bag.”
“I do? Really?” In that case... She squealed with happiness and swooped down to pick up the fruit. As soon as they found a safe spot to rest, she’d examine every jewel and figure out why she had a sudden hard-on for gemstones.
“You do know you’ll have to part with more jewelry to pay for your meal, yes?” Kaysar asked, never removing his gaze from her.
Hmm. Maybe she’d settle for a light snack. Like the fruit she’d already paid for.
Her mouth watered again, her taste buds reawakening. In a daze, she dusted off the smooth flesh and bit into the soft center. Warm sweetness ran down her throat, reminding her of piña colada.
Her eyelids slid shut. The worst of her hunger pangs eased, sparking an urgency to gorge.
“No,” Kaysar said, confiscating the fruit. “One bite, and you can keep a clear head. More, and you’ll become drunk. While I think I’ll enjoy an intoxicated Chantel—which I will experience—I’m unwilling to share the event with others.”
“Right. Clear head.” Very important during a mission. “So? What happens next?”
He narrowed his eyes as he sank his teeth into the fruit and...a whole new world appeared, as if they’d teleported to the edge of a Victorian Wild West, Fae Edition.
How amazing. They stood at the beginning of a cobblestone path; it extended before them, leading to dozens of shops, where vibrant murals adorned the outer walls and flowers grew from the roofs, spilling over the sides.
Different scents left her drooling. She thought she detected fresh baked bread. Spices. Meat? Her stomach pleaded for a feast.
Fae moved in varying directions at varying speeds. Some entered the shops, some exited. Hundreds of voices rang out, conversations blending together. The clothing styles differed as much as physical features. Different species wore different clothes, everything from warrior-chic to the peasant drab.
Envy hooked her and reeled her in. Spend more money at the outpost? Watch me. She’d go broke for a shower and clean clothes. Something made of leather, maybe.
She could acquire more jewels. A desire born from the depths of her being...or Lulundria’s? Did the other woman gain territory in Cookie’s mind, as well as her exterior?
The very idea repelled her.
At some point, you lost those you loved. One day, she would even lose Pearl Jean and Sugars. She refused to lose herself along the way.
As if he sensed her turmoil, Kaysar anchored a strong arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “You will stay by my side the entire time we are here. Do you understand?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Currently without defenses, she snuggled into the big, hard body as comforting as it was maddening. Wait. Why had the shoppers and shopkeepers gone still and quiet, staring over at Cookie and Kaysar with something akin to horror?
“Um,” she said, growing uneasy. “Maybe we should go?”
Whispers rose from the masses, then shouts. “King Kaysar?”
“The Unhinged One invades!”
“Run!”
Unhinged One?
With those shouts, pandemonium reigned. Fae burst into motion, grabbing their things and flittering away, vanishing one by one. Others sprinted in the opposite direction.
Well. At least they hadn’t attacked. “You have a reputation, I see.”
“Perhaps I do,” he said, urging her forward faster than she wished to go. Not this again. “You would do well to remember their fear the next time you think to test me.”
“Is that a threat?” Why wasn’t she afraid?
“Merely an observation.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’ll kill me in cold blood?” Oops. A personal question.
He didn’t seem to mind, though. “Cold blood? I assure you, sweetling,” he said, with his first smile in forever. His steps slowed to a crawl. “My blood always boils white-hot.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WITH THE OUTPOST abandoned by shopkeepers and patrons alike, Kaysar procured the best room at the best inn, as well as any dish in the kitchen he and Chantel desired, without having to threaten, maim or murder anyone. A novel experience indeed.
His plan to keep his companion in abject misery until she called off her search for a doormaker had derailed. Temporarily. Letting her go hungry appealed less and less. Meanwhile, having to watch exhaustion settle deeper into her doll-like features bothered him more and more.
He didn’t know what to feel with Chantel. Which he didn’t understand. He always knew what to feel—murderous—and he always knew what to do. Hurt everyone.
She was a Frostline, yes, but she also wasn’t a Frostline. She’d never harmed or abused him. No, oh, no. Not his princess. She’d merely irritated him in a thousand different ways. And challenged him. And infuriated him. And amused and confused him and inflamed him as no other. But so far she’d earned none of his wrath.