I wanted to get out of the bed now, but I had no other clothes besides the borrowed nightie. “Get to the point, please,” I sighed, making an impatient gesture.
His fingers lingered on the buttons of a white, long-sleeved shirt. Stalling, I thought. Laurie raked his hair back and adjusted the buckle of his slim, leather belt. I could tell, before he even turned to me, that I wasn’t going to like what was about to come out of his mouth. Then the faerie’s gaze met mine, and it was steely as he said, “Sorcha Cralynn.”
I was rigid, holding my legs so tight that I knew, without looking, that my knuckles would be white. “No. No fucking way.”
“She’s the answer to everything, Fortuna. She can wear your face and keep Belanor diverted while we—”
“Think of a new plan, Laurie, because there’s no way in hell I’m trusting her.”
The prince’s expression was pitiless, and I wondered how much he knew about my history with Sorcha. Whatever twisted version of the events she’d given him, no doubt. “You don’t have a choice. Well, no, that’s not entirely true,” Laurie amended. “Your choice is to trust Sorcha, and me, or stay here and become Belanor’s plaything again. Even if I keep outsmarting him, there will be nothing I can do once he’s king.”
I was already shaking my head. “You’re forgetting something. I’m a Nightmare, Laurie. You may see my real face, but every person in that room will look at me and see something different. The magic makes it so that even my body shape and hair color can change to match their ideals of perfection. If Sorcha takes my place, she’ll only be wearing one face, one body—mine.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re coming to the party. Why I’d ever deign to risk putting you in the same room as my brother again.” Laurie turned to close the wardrobe doors and drawers. He spoke as he moved. “For the majority of the time we’re there, it’ll be you on my arm, confirming your identity and receiving whatever benefits there are to being associated with me. When the fae throw a party involving masks or costumes, we usually hold the masks down while we’re making introductions or dancing. Once the switch has been done, Sorcha will just wear the mask continuously and make efforts to only draw the notice of the Guardians, so they can make their reports to the others, of course. She’ll be wearing your gown, and even if her build or hair is different than whatever they just saw, I imagine many will dismiss it as the magic of a Nightmare. Most of us have never had the pleasure of meeting one of your kind, although we do love to lie and say otherwise. She’s in the ballroom, the guards will mutter in those strange little microphones. Gracious, I do miss the days when the only form of communication was a landline—it made sabotage so much easier.”
With a mournful sigh, Laurie finally fell silent. He waited for my answer, the lines of his body relaxed. I knew that was an act, though. Laurie never relaxed; he was always ready for the next scheme or the next argument. All at once, I understood why this faerie prince got his way so much of the time.
He just wore his opponents down until they were too tired to fight him anymore.
“She’ll betray us the moment she gets a better offer,” I said finally. My voice was as tight as my insides felt.
Laurie circled the bed. Without offering an explanation, he reached between the sheets and wrapped his fingers around my waist. He dragged me to the edge of the mattress, then planted his hands on either side of me. He’d brushed his teeth while he was in the bathroom, and I had the sudden, inexplicable urge to lean forward and taste that minty scent for myself. My sex clenched.
“Then we’ll just need to make sure ours is the best offer,” Laurie countered, his voice soft and persuasive. As if I’d fall for that.
“Fine. I’ll go along with your horrible plan on one condition,” I snapped, relieved that I sounded normal, at least. Laurie waited, keeping his face inches from mine. “We need to save Finn, too.”
He’d been expecting that; I saw resignation in the shadows of his eyes. “The risk of failure is exponentially higher if we factor in the werewolf, Fortuna.”
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, still pretending to be unaffected by how we were sitting, with my knees pressing against both sides of his waist, his long-fingered hands on my hips. “Then we fail,” I said simply, imitating the light tone he’d used seconds ago. “I’m not leaving without him.”
“Belanor will set a trap,” Laurie warned.
“Then we’ll just have to be smarter than him.”
I was the one ready for the next argument now, but it never came. For the second time in the space of an hour, we just looked at each other, the air thickening. I felt it again—that nearly overwhelming combination of power and possibilities.
The tension eased when Laurie gave me a wry smile. “You’re right. It is annoying when you use my own tactics against me.”
Before I could respond, knocking disturbed the stillness. It didn’t come from the bedroom doors, but rather the outer doors that led to the hallway. Laurie’s expression smoothed into a pleasant mask and he straightened, taking his warmth and his scent with him.
As Laurie’s voice floated through the air, I left the warm covers and decided to focus on one thing at a time. First, bathroom. Second, check on Gil. Third, food. Fourth, escape from the Seelie Court. Simple. Easy.
A few minutes later, I left the bathroom feeling more ready to face the day.
Laurie was still in the foyer, deep in conversation with a dark-haired beauty. In one manicured hand, she held a gown wrapped in protective plastic, and in the other, there was a leather tote bag. She looked like a page ripped out of a fashion magazine, her slim figure encased in a tailored jacket, a pencil skirt, and high heels. Her thick hair was secured in an elegant knot at the back of her neck, and she wore a layer of red lipstick, perfectly applied.
I drew closer, painfully aware that I was still wearing the borrowed negligee. My hair hung free and wild over my shoulders and down my back.
“Well met, Lady Sworn,” the female said, turning away from Laurie. She held a white paper bag out to me. “Organic, vegan, and gluten free, since King Laurelis couldn’t say whether you had any restrictions.”
“I told you that she’d eat anything you put in front of her,” Laurie protested. “She’s hardly picky. I’ve seen Fortuna eat a bowl of cardboard before.”
“Are you talking about Cheerios?” I took the bag automatically. “It’s cereal, Laurie.”
He shuddered. “Same difference.”
I couldn’t resist unfolding the bag to peek inside. My mouth watered at the sight of a breakfast sandwich, and all I wanted to do was reach down and taste that food. Instead, I quickly refocused on the newcomer. She wasn’t a faerie, but she moved like something that wasn’t human. Her eyes were already assessing my figure, and if she was affected at all by the false beauty of a Nightmare, her expression gave nothing away. “Shall we get started?” she asked when our eyes met.
“Started?” I echoed.
Laurie gestured between us, holding a travel mug in the hand he used. Steam rose through the hole in the lid. “Fortuna, this is my assistant, Tabitha. She’s brought your gown for this evening, and she’ll be doing your hair, as well. Please don’t give her any trouble—I already pay her an exorbitant salary, but she’s not afraid to demand raises. Petty thing.”