Chapter 18
I Danced with You Once Upon a Dream
Both Cha and Dy whirled in startlement. Cha’s heart skidding into an accelerated rhythm that made it feel as if it was climbing up the back of her throat.
There he was, in the glorious flesh.
Azul lounged, arms folded and ankles crossed, against the doorframe—the door beside him just as closed as before—a study in repose.
He wore fancy court clothes, all in shades of purple, no doubt to represent his native realm of Amethyst. He used no glamour, his hair dark but definitely violet-hued, shades deeper than his extraordinary eyes.
His sensual lips curved in a decided frown that was still somehow impossibly sexy.
His perfect ringlets waved back from his moon-pale face pierced by high, delicately curved, and elegantly pointed ears.
He wore his crown, a simple diadem of some unearthly glowing metal set with an amethyst of remarkable clarity.
And his wings were out, mostly folded against his back, the thin membrane of such a deep violet they looked almost black.
Like a bat would have, claw-tipped thumbs crowned the points of the wings where they towered above his head, framing him with regal lethality.
Also like a bat, the lower part of his wings were tipped with clawed fingers that flexed restlessly, the only indication of restiveness in his otherwise languid pose.
With a kittenish mew, Katu leapt down from the sofa and pranced over to Azul, rubbing against his legs and curling his tail around his calves in a loving caress, the traitor.
Azul unbent enough to reach down and rub Katu’s head, avoiding his ears—exactly the way the jaguar liked it, Cha couldn’t help noticing.
She considered commenting. But she was still brewing up something witty and perfectly apt when he straightened, grabbed her gaze, and held it inexorably with his.
“Arantxa Evermore,” he purred, the sound sensual and dangerous.
“Hey,” she protested reflexively. “Watch it with the full name. Especially…” She waved her hands about, aware that she was thoroughly, uncharacteristically, and embarrassingly flustered. “Here,” she finished weakly.
He didn’t acknowledge her words. Instead, he straightened, the purple silks hissing as they resettled in a loving drape around his tall, lean form.
She didn’t blame the way they clung to his indescribably sexy form as she wanted to do exactly that, too.
Her mouth literally watered and she had trouble clearing her head.
It’s the concussion, she thought to herself.
But no, it was him.
She’d thought maybe she’d exaggerated in her imagination—and in her prurient fantasies—just how erotically compelling Azul was, especially without the glamour that had initially made him seem like a slightly silly and definitely sulky human noble trying to look like fae royalty.
Now he was fully real and present—and unbelievably hot.
Also every fingertip imperious prince about to impose sentence on a wayward subject.
She hated that the thought actually gave her a thrill. Pussy sparkle: activated.
“What,” Azul said slowly, stalking toward her, “in the ever loving fuck are you doing here? I told you, very clearly, to stay away.”
Oh shit.
Dy turned on her. “He did? When?”
Cha very rarely felt she needed to explain herself, but she stuttered over the answer. “I didn’t think that was real.”
“Oh, it was real,” he said in such a low, menacing tone that she’d call it a growl from an animal.
In truth, he did have a feral glint in his twilight eyes, though his wings remained out of sight.
“And I think you know that very well.” He prowled up to her, looming over her even though he wasn’t that much taller, then flicked a glance at Dy.
“Madame Goldilocks. Well met, Sorceress.”
Dy inclined her head. “Prince Charming.”
“Oh sure, you use her handle, but not mine,” Cha muttered.
Azul ignored her. “Would you be so kind as to give me the opportunity to speak with your partner alone?”
Dy raised her brows. “Do you promise not to murder her?”
“Not yet,” he answered, transferring his hard gaze to Cha, his eyes actually seeming to fulminate. His expression promising retribution. “I need a word with her first. After that, I reserve the right to choose the appropriate punishment.”
“Hey now,” Cha said sternly.
They both ignored her. Just great.
“I’ll need a door unlocked,” Dy said cheerfully, as if they hadn’t just been discussing Cha’s potential demise.
“The one across the room,” he said, indicating his head.
“There’s an escort waiting for you to arrange to bring Big Betty to the cargo bay where I believe you have arranged to exchange goods in a very unusual ‘trade’ agreement.
” His gaze bored in to Cha’s for this last, as if Dy had nothing to do with any of it.
To be fair, this did all rest on Cha’s shoulders.
“I’d offer refreshments, but I assume you, at least, have the wit not to eat or drink while in the Citrine realm.”
“Absolutely.” Dy nodded gravely and they exchanged a little wise magic-worker solidarity moment.
“I know that, too,” Cha ground out. “I wouldn’t eat or drink anything here either.”
“Take Katu with you,” Azul told Dy, even giving her a smile, the fucker. “I will have ambrosia sent for him. I’ve already taken care of that for Big Betty. I assume Warg is fine since he eats magic?”
“That’s right and thank you,” Dy said cheerfully.
Had Cha known Warg subsisted on magic? She supposed that made sense, since he was a magic sink—it had to go somewhere—but she probably should have had that higher up in her mind.
At the moment, she was mostly annoyed that Azul knew about Big Betty hanging out on the daffodil lawn under the umbrella trees and had taken over their cargo transfer.
Dy clapped her lightly on the shoulder and Cha winced as that hit a bruise, probably from one of those pincers.
“If he does kill you, I’ll send your regards to everyone,” Dy said in a bright, friendly tone, her eyes glittering with anger.
“We’ll have a nice memorial in which I’ll tell everyone how you brought this on yourself. ”
“Gee, thanks,” Cha replied, but she was also absurdly touched at the thought of her friends having a memorial for her.
That they’d all complain about her bone-headedness was only fair.
She’d never pretended not to be an asshole.
“Dy—I truly thought I’d dreamed talking to him in my head. I’ve never… eh. I’ll explain later.”
Dy’s big blues slid to Azul and she shrugged. “I don’t think you have to. Be smart. I’d tell you not to do anything I wouldn’t do, but…”
Cha snickered and Dy grinned. Yeah, they were okay.
Dy and Katu went out the door Azul had indicated.
Cha watched them go and turned back to find Azul right there.
So close she could close the space between them by simply leaning in.
So close that the blazing heat of his body caressed the bare skin of her arms. Or was that his fiery rage?
Because he was fully pissed, all right. Now that Dy had gone, he’d dropped all vestige of his smooth courtier’s manners.
He burned with anger, lips closed but working as if he chewed on the words he planned to spit at her.
She dearly wanted to back up a step—or five—but her pride wouldn’t let her.
Besides, even with him pissed, she was absurdly happy to see him again.
Instead, she planted herself, fists on hips, and issued a challenge, blood pumping with excitement… and something more. No one had ever claimed she possessed a good instinct for self-preservation, but she sure loved a thrill. And Azul was as thrilling as it comes.
“All right,” she told him in an even tone she was particularly pleased with herself for producing. No wobbling, stuttering, or squeaking. “Let me have it.”
“Oh, I plan to,” he warned, the words lethally slicing.
Cha braced herself for his righteous fury—ignoring the erotic charge, as that was probably just her personal perversion—assembling her arguments for why she wasn’t (entirely) in the wrong.
In the next moment, those lips were on hers and she was in his arms, immediately dizzy with the crushed berry scent and burning feel of him. Oh, yes, please…
Her body sighed all over and melted, drinking him in as if she were a wilted plant finally setting her roots in water.
She’d known she’d missed him, but she’d had no idea how profoundly deprived she’d felt without him.
It was as if she’d starved slowly for lack of some obscure vitamin and now health and well-being flowed into her with brilliant vibrancy. She could kiss him forever.
She lost her head entirely, she could admit that.
Later. Later, she admitted that. In the moment, however, she forgot all her qualms, her fears, even her aching head and bruised limbs.
She fell into touching and being touched, feeling like she was returning to a home she’d never had.
Something deep within her that had felt unmoored and brutally alone shifted and settled.
Azul.
She breathed his name out and breathed him in.
Azul.
Cha realized she’d been moaning his name—his real name—at the same moment he broke off the kiss.
Lips wet, eyes blazing like violets on fire—even though that isn’t a thing, that’s how they looked—he stared fiercely at her, gripping her shoulders as if he simultaneously wanted to pull her close and thrust her away. Probably he did.
“I reiterate my previous question,” he ground out, flexing his grip on her. “Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?”
He had a way of doing that, spacing out his words like she was stupid enough that she needed time to parse their meaning. She glared at him and answered in the same vein. “Because. You. Needed. Rescuing.”
He stared at her in disbelief. No—that was very real astonishment.
“What?” he finally asked, and if she’d been in a snarkier—and less erotically dazzled—mood, she might’ve given that dumbfounded question a flip answer.
But she was dazzled and, far from snarky, feeling unexpectedly raw inside and tender toward the arrogant fae prince, even if he neither needed nor deserved any tenderness from her.
He well and truly hadn’t expected that answer, which gave her a very bad feeling, indeed.
“I told you that,” she said. When he only looked more confused, she pressed on, trying not to sound irritated. “When we talked in my head. You’re saying that was a real conversation and not a dream and I’m saying that I told you then that I was coming to rescue you.”
“You,” he echoed, sounding as if this was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in his entire, very long life. “Are planning to… rescue me.”
“You don’t have to make it sound absurd.”
“Oh yes, I do, Arantxa. Because it is absurd. What, pray tell, do you imagine in that scrambled noggin of yours, I need rescuing from?”
Said noggin was started to throb again and her stomach roiled uneasily.
“Well, I don’t know,” she admitted, feeling more like a fool every passing moment.
He didn’t look like he needed rescuing. He looked just fine.
More than fine. Look at him. Dressed in silks she couldn’t buy even if she pooled the coin from all of the tournaments she’d won.
Glowing with magic and health and clearly king—or whatever metaphor worked for his position in the hierarchy here—of all he surveyed.
“You don’t know,” he repeated incredulously.
She wished he’d stop doing that. “So… what? You just flung yourself and your partners onto the Citrine ley lines to come after me—how did you even get through Moonstone intact, by the way—because why? Are you that infatuated with me? I know mortals develop addictions to their fae lovers, but—”
“Oh, please,” she interrupted. “You are not all that. I am not addicted to you.” Liar, that treacherous voice within her whispered. At least it was her own voice. “In fact, right now, you are officially my least favorite person in all the realms. You can go boil in a pit of fire for all care!”
His beautiful mouth quirked in vast amusement at her expense. “I don’t think one boils in a pit of fire.”
“You know what I mean,” she fired back, even more embarrassed that she’d tripped over her own words in her ire. She tried to wrench out of his grip. “Let me go, you foul fairy creep.”
“No,” he replied. “Next on the agenda is you explaining, in detail, if you have the least idea what kind of situation you’ve created selling this particular cargo to fucking Citrine of all places.”
Hmm. Not really. “No?” she asked more than answered.
“No?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe that answer, tightening his hands on her. “How can you—what?”
Shit, that hurt. Had she dislocated something?
Because something had crunched in her shoulder so agonizingly, she could feel the blood drain out of her face.
Could one feel oneself going pale? Not really important at the moment because she also felt herself going faint, which was even worse, the edges of her vision going dark and sparkling, not in the sexy way.
“Ow,” she said. And the blackness swamped her.