Beautiful nightmares, p.22
Beautiful Nightmares, page 22
I bristled. “Excuse me? You call total betrayal a lover’s quarrel?”
“No, I call total betrayal just another Tuesday. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Annoying, isn’t it?” I countered. I glared at Laurie for a moment, but even that took too much effort. I was still so tired. What time was it? Why was Gil’s side of the bond so quiet?
I was trying to ignore Laurie, but it wasn’t working. He just laid there, looking at me, waiting for an answer. It was hypocritical, really. Any time I asked him a question, he danced around it as though life were a strange waltz and he was the only one who knew the steps.
Sighing, I relented and gave Laurie what he wanted, because one way or the other, he’d get it anyway. “Learning the truth about Collith felt like a breaking point. I didn’t go on a murderous rampage because of a lover’s quarrel, it was because of everything. Every shitty, horrible thing that’s happened to me or my family since Jassin took Damon from his garden. I’m not saying it’s rational, but I started thinking of it as the solution to all my problems—getting rid of the Nightmare part, the Fallen part. Separating myself from that world entirely. I was convinced being free of it would ease the pain. That constant, eternal, fucking relentless pain. So I went to a friend and asked him to help me. It was the most selfish, most reckless thing I’ve ever done, and I think I regretted it from the second I saw the look in Cyrus’s eyes.”
There was a pause. Nervousness twisted in my gut; I didn’t know how Laurie would react to the unexpected vulnerability I’d handed him. He wouldn’t mock me, of that I was sure, but what if he tried to make my pain seem small? What I considered trauma, Laurie probably considered inevitable. He was a faerie, and for them, violence was just foreplay.
After another moment he said, the bed shifting beneath us, “And I bet you regretted it a moment later, too, when the flames got to you.”
I waited, but Laurie didn’t lecture me again, or ask me anything else. He got out of the bed, and then there was a click. Lamplight flowed over the room.
“In my defense, I didn’t think it would literally burn me,” I said, blinking to help my eyes adjust. “I figured it was just—”
I caught a glimpse of Laurie’s firm backside before I hastily averted my gaze. My cheeks burned. How had I missed the fact that he’d been naked the entire night?
Acting as if I hadn’t stopped mid-sentence, Laurie reached for a silk robe and casually draped it around his flawless body. “Contrary to popular belief, I think the Fallen feel things more powerfully than humans,” he said abruptly. “Think about it—if a human gets angry, there might be an argument or a fistfight. But when one of us loses our temper, there are wars or piles of dead bodies. If a human is grieving, there are funerals and months of quiet pain. When a Fallen creature grieves, there is retribution and years of despair. It stands to reason that, if you keep yourself on such a tight leash, you’re eventually going to rip free and do something you regret.”
He strode into the bathroom, using the adjoining door. I sat up, holding my knees. I knew I should go check on Gil, but I was reluctant. It felt like once I left this bed, the chaos would begin again, another cycle of terror that would add a new nightmare to the ones already wandering the wilderness inside my head. A light turned on and spilled through the open doorway.
“Spoken like someone who has a regret or two of his own,” I ventured.
Laurie reappeared and leaned his hip against the doorjamb, crossing his arms. He was still only wearing only his robe, and he didn’t seem to care that the flaps fluttered at his sides, leaving everything underneath… exposed.
Before I fixed my attention firmly elsewhere again, I confirmed that Laurelis Dondarte’s cock was just as big as his mouth.
I knew I wasn’t imagining his faint smirk as he said, “The past is the past, Fortuna. I’m only interested in the here and now.”
I snorted softly. “You’re either lying to me or yourself, because part of you does live in the past. Quite frequently.”
I didn’t need to say Collith’s name—I could tell from how his eyes narrowed that Laurie heard it anyway. He pushed off the doorframe and went back into the bathroom, moving out of my sight. I stayed where I was, and in the quiet, I finally noticed the slow pressure of anxiety rising inside me. We were wasting time talking about Collith, and the dragonfire, and whatever else we’d been whispering in this darkened bedroom. We had to steal Finn back and get all of us out of this palace.
“Are you ever going to reveal the plan for our grand escape?” I called, the irritation I felt seeping into my tone.
Laurie’s voice floated through the stillness, echoing off marble. It was accompanied by the sound of running water. “I already told you, weren’t you listening? Tonight, Mother dearest is throwing a party on palace grounds. We will take the opportunity to present you to the Court. When they see me at your side, it will lend you some protection, flimsy though it may be. Belanor will not be able to seize you in public, at least. It would be considered rude to claim another faerie’s guest.”
“Rude?” I echoed, disbelieving.
“Indeed.” More splashing. “However, if we attempt to leave in the same manner we arrived, I’m sure Belanor will invent some excuse or other to arrest you. Probably treason, if I were to guess.”
“Treason?”
Laurie came into the room again, rubbing lotion into his hands. “Yes, now hush. I’ve given this some thought, and what a puzzle it’s been. Using my abilities is out of the question, because if I were tied to any rumors of treason, it could be exactly what Belanor needs to have me executed. He’s been trying to do it for years, and I quite like my head where it is, thank you very much. I considered another obvious angle, which would be creating a diversion. Then I asked myself, what is the opposite of what my lovely brother would expect of me?”
“Why do you sound like you’re enjoying this?” I demanded.
“Because it’s Belanor,” Laurie said, as if this was answer enough. He crossed the space and opened a wardrobe. I blinked when he pulled some clothes out; I’d expected King Laurelis Dondarte to have the world’s biggest, most ridiculous closet.
“He may be a twat,” Laurie continued, pulling on a pair of crisp slacks. “but he’s not a complete idiot. He’ll be prepared for conventional tactics. Fortunately, I am anything but conventional.”
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.”
He pouted at her, but Tabitha just looked back at him with no hint of remorse in her face. She’d be an excellent poker player, if she wasn’t already.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a courteous nod, ignoring the flicker of heat in my heart. Maria. Tabitha. Fortuna. Laurie wasn’t certainly short on the company of beautiful people.
The same could be said for you, I reminded myself. I really was jealous. There was no point in pretending otherwise. But what was I supposed to do with this feeling?
When Tabitha moved toward the bedroom, I shot a confused frown toward Laurie. I thought we didn’t want anyone to know I was here? I hoped it said.
He interpreted my look correctly. “Tabby has been in my employ for fourteen years, give or take. She knows she’ll always benefit more from loyalty to me than offers from anyone else. Isn’t that right, Tabby?”
“Sixteen years. And speaking of offers, I just got another one from Lord Arthion.”
Laurie smiled again, his gaze flicking to the doorway where Tabitha now stood. The dress and the bag were no longer in her hands. “Just wire the money into your account, little thief,” he said.
“Already done,” she returned.
Seeing the familiarity between them, I realized that Laurie had an entire life I knew nothing about. I’d always been aware, of course. With all his comings and goings, his occupation, and the history with Collith, it was obvious there were parts of this faerie prince I wasn’t privy to. Catching glimpses of it now was startling, unsettling, and riveting.
I cleared my throat and asked, “Do you have a suit for Gil to borrow?”
The question was meant for either of them. As Laurie answered, he followed his assistant into the bedroom. “Tabby has already given the vampire some clothing. It’s not a suit, though—it’s a uniform. There’s no way to explain his presence to the Court, not to mention that his kind wouldn’t be invited to the palace as a guest.”
“His kind?” I echoed hotly, going after him. Tabitha had seen Gil? I wanted to ask how he was, but I couldn’t let this comment pass by unacknowledged.
At the threshold, I slowed and held my hand up, protecting my eyes. Tabitha had opened the curtains. Sunlight streamed over the wooden floorboards and thick rugs. How long had we been asleep? Had it been an entire day? No wonder my stomach was growling. Still holding the paper bag Tabitha had given me, I moved deeper into the room, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
The dress now hung on the wardrobe door. Tabitha sat on the bed, lining makeup and hair tools across the bedspread. I stopped near the bathroom door and watched Laurie pick up an armchair from the corner. Making it look light as the kitten he’d given me, he carried it over to the mirror. Then he perched his elbow on the back of the chair and turned as he said, “My dear, there’s no time to delve into the discrimination, corruption, and politics of a worldwide organization such as this one. What matters is this vampire you seem to care so much about will be at the party, and he will be at our side when we’re making our anticlimactic escape. Isn’t that enough?”
I glared at Laurie for a long moment, thinking of everything he’d done for me. “Fine,” I said.
It was as close to agreeing that I would get, and Laurie probably knew it. He straightened. “Well, then. Now that you two have sworn to be on your best behavior, I’m going to make some calls. Tabby, which room did you say my suit was in?”
“The study.”
“Excellent. Oh, and you really should eat that, Lady Sworn. It’s from my favorite café, an adorable place owned by the wrinkliest pair of humans I’ve ever seen.” Laurie retreated to the doorway, rapped on the wooden frame with his knuckles, and moved out of sight.
The fact that he was leaving me alone with Tabitha meant he trusted her. However complicated he may be, Laurie cared about whether I lived or died.
“Take a seat,” Tabitha said the moment he was gone. “You can eat while I’m working on you.”
She didn’t waste time or mince words, and something about the way she spoke reminded me of Adam. Maybe that was why I kept finding myself inclined to like her.
I settled into the armchair Laurie had moved, and Tabitha’s fingers immediately began rearranging my hair. As I finally began eating the sandwich she’d brought, I looked at Tabitha in the mirror, studying that beautiful, impassive face behind me. I couldn’t contain a burst of curiosity.
