“I know what he thinks.” I’d seen the King since he told me that there was nothing between us, which had come right after I admitted to myself that I was developing serious feelings for him—had already fallen for him, actually. Things weren’t exactly amicable between us. I was confident that if Tanner, the fae who oversaw Hotel Good Fae, heard me call his King an asshole one more time, he was going to ban me from the hotel. My jaw tightened. “He’s told me every time he’s seen me that I have no business hunting fae. That it’s the Order’s job. I guess, like everyone else, he’s forgotten that I work for them, too.”
Which was why I kept calling him an asshole to his face. It wasn’t because he didn’t want me, even though he’d led me to believe that he did. It wasn’t because he made me think I was special and beautiful and interesting without the makeup, the fake hair, and the skimpy clothes. He was a different kind of asshole for those reasons. In a way, his dickish attempts to control me—which had failed—made it easier to deal with what had happened. The deep hurt had quickly given way to anger. And cursing someone out was far better than lying awake at night, crying as I ate yet another cupcake.
“He hasn’t forgotten.” Tink’s voice was soft. “I don’t think you understand why he’s done what he’s done.”
Oh, I thought I understood perfectly. I was nothing to him, and whatever we did have had just been a mistake in his eyes. After all, he was not only a fae, he was the King, and I was just…Brighton, a thirty-year-old who had helped his brother once when injured. The King claimed that wasn’t the reason he’d healed me after the attack, but I believed differently. He felt like he owed me.
“I don’t care enough to understand his motivations,” I said. “I know why he doesn’t want me out there.”
The King didn’t want me to stand down just because it wasn’t safe. And while I at least hoped he didn’t want to see me dead, I didn’t think he was losing any sleep over the possibility.
No, the real reason was that the King was also looking for Aric. Back in the Otherworld, the Ancient had been one of his Knights. Aric had betrayed him to Queen Morgana, stabbing him through the chest and weakening him so that he was susceptible to the batshit crazy Queen and her magic. So, yeah, he had valid reasons for going after him.
But so did I.
If the King found Aric first, he’d kill him, and I would never get the chance to carry out my vengeance against the creature responsible for killing my mom. And, well, that was…that was all I had.
* * * *
The rapid thump of music from the overhead speakers matched my mood as I swayed in the shadows of Flux’s dance floor, a club that catered to the fae. This was where I’d found and killed Tobias, one of the fae who’d joined Aric in the attack against my mother and me.
I wasn’t worried about being recognized in the mass of twisting human flesh that churned alongside and against the fae in the place. Most of those that frequented Flux were of the Winter Court—the bad Court that actively hunted humans to feed on so the fae did not age. The very same Court that belonged to Queen Morgana. Every so often a Summer fae was spotted, but those sightings were few and far between.
I saw no fae at all tonight.
Questing hands slipped from my waist and slid down to my hips again. Frustration made me grab What’s His Name’s wrists harder than I intended. I’d honestly rather be scrubbing my lady bits with a brillo pad than dancing with an obvious first-timer to New Orleans, one who wore so much cologne, he could star in an Axe body spray commercial. However, lurking alone in a club like this was suspicious. Not when everyone came here to hook up.
“Damn, girl, you got a hell of a grip on you,” he murmured into my ear. “That’s hot.”
I rolled my eyes as I placed his hands back on my waist.
“So, you come here a lot?” He squeezed my hipbones.
“No,” I said, focusing on the dance floor near the stairs that led to the private second level, where the fae normally chilled in-between glamouring humans and feeding on them.
“Then I guess it’s my lucky night, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to tell him to not only talk less but also wear less cologne, when I felt a tight shiver of awareness. The kind of feeling you got when it felt as if someone were—
The man behind me shouted in surprise. His hands left my hips as I spun around. The dark-haired tourist stumbled, catching his balance on a nearby table. He shoved off it, puffing out his chest, but drew up short a second before broad shoulders and a tapered waist clad in a black shirt blocked my view. The guy’s blond hair was secured in a short ponytail, and the scent of summer rain replaced the overpowering musk of cologne.
I sucked in a sharp breath of disbelief as I saw What’s His Name dart to my left, intelligently wanting nothing to do with what stood in front of me.
I could not believe it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited. I didn’t have to wait long. He decided to grace me with a full-frontal of what had to be—unfortunately—the most beautiful male face I’d ever seen.
The King was here.
Chapter 2
The sense of deja vu was too strong to ignore. It felt like an eternity ago that I’d come face to face with him inside this very club, and the last time we’d met in here, I’d tried to spin-kick him.
I had a feeling that history might repeat itself.
Cad—the King, I corrected myself. The King was stunning. Cheekbones as sharp as a blade, nose straight and aristocratic, and a jaw that could’ve been carved out of marble. He had the kind of face you found yourself staring at and wondering how it could be real. And now, those full, expressive lips were tilted in a smirk.
Seeing him so unexpectedly seemed to short-circuit my brain because I wasn’t thinking about how he’d hurt me. All I could think about was how good he’d made me feel. Not in the physical sense, though that had been amazing too, even though we hadn’t had sex. But it was the important stuff. I…I missed that.
“You can do better than that, sunshine,” the King of the Summer Court drawled.
My stupid, stupid heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d told me that he called me that because I reminded him of the sun.
Such BS.
Pulling the anger around me like a favorite sweater, I walled up my heart, protecting it from its own stupidity. I lifted my gaze, ignoring how the amber color of the King’s eyes both frightened and tantalized me. “Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you wish.” He stepped forward, and my eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you can imagine my utter lack of surprise at discovering you here.”
“And I’m sure you can imagine my utter lack of surprise realizing that you’re stalking me again.”
He arched a brow. “Well, who else is there to keep you from getting yourself killed?”
My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. “I don’t need anyone to do that other than myself. And I especially do not need you.”
“That’s your opinion,” he stated as if it were the stupidest belief in history. “I know why you’re here. You’ve learned that Neal was seen.”