He ran his tongue over his teeth again, not appreciating my command. But he didn’t contradict it either. His voice was gruff. “I don’t like when you pull away from me.”
“Then don’t act like a first-rate asshole.”
Lord Belshazzar snorted, not arguing that statement either. He lifted both his brows slowly and took a step forward, closing the space between us. His head of long, black hair tilted to the side, while his attention held all of mine. His blue eyes flicked back and forth between my eyes and searched my features. The Overlord questioned quietly, “Has anything changed between us?”
My nostrils flared in irritation. “Do you mean, am I going to move along? Like you suggested I do if I can’t handle you?”
He hesitated, and then said, “Yes. I’m asking that.”
“Nothing has changed.” I shook my head. “Calm the heck down. You’ll know when I get really pissed. You won’t even have to ask if I’m leaving. I’ll already be gone before the thought crosses your bullheaded mind.”
He stared, quiet for a second. “Don’t fall for his shit, Gwen.”
I lifted my eyes heavenward and sighed at the ceiling. “You should get going, my lord. Master Niallan’s first Challenge awaits.” The Overlord still felt threatened. There wasn’t much else I could say to him right now though, not with an eavesdropping portrait watching over us.
He gripped my chin with gentle fingers, lowering my head so I could look into his eyes again. Then he dropped his hand from my face and balled it into a fist. “We’ll be back before nightfall. Do as Lord Xenon ordered. Don’t roam alone, and do not leave the castle.”
“Yes, my lord.” I knew a royal demand when I heard it. And I didn’t disagree with it, either. Even if I would be bored out of my goddamn mind. “I’ll see you before nightfall.”
Lord Belshazzar dipped his head, and his hair fanned down around us—hiding us from anyone else’s view. He stopped when his lips were a breath away from mine. His blue eyes flickered with worry before he quickly dashed the show of emotion away, replacing it with his normal stony expression.
He waited. For me.
I crossed my arms and lifted a brow.
I held his hard gaze head-on with one of my own.
Then I angled my chin up.
And pecked his lips really fast.
That was all he was getting from me right now.
The Overlord grunted. A tiny smile flirted with his mouth. He mumbled quietly, “Well, after the way I acted, that was better than nothing.”
Damn straight, it was.
I’d been tempted to deny him. I would have, too, if I hadn’t seen the uneasiness he was hiding away. The Overlord didn’t want to lose what we had together.
Lord Belshazzar slanted his chin up and pressed his plump lips to my forehead, kissing me there once. His mouth was soft and sweet. The caress squeezed my heartstrings, precious and fine, with how delicately he touched me. He lifted his hands and ran the pads of his fingers over my cheeks softly before he pulled back. His eyes searched mine afterward and his lips quirked up on one side. He pecked the tip of my nose quickly.
He rose to his full height and turned to face the mute Overlords, who weren’t even bothering to pretend not to listen in on our conversation. All were staring and silent. The lord’s eyes narrowed on them. He griped, “You fuckers are becoming a nuisance.”
Lord Otto blinked. “I doubt I’m speaking just for myself when I say this…” He flicked a finger between the lord next to me and myself. “I never thought the day would come when you’d actually care for someone romantically, my lord. This is the best entertainment we’ve had from you in a long while—and I mean a long while. The shock won’t easily disappear, nor will our pleasure at watching you two fight for dominance. Especially since she’s just as goddamn awful as you are.”
Lord Cato instantly hissed, “Watch it.”
Lord Otto tossed my father a special glance. “Don’t even defend her. She ripped out your heart less than an hour ago and used it as her footstool without fucking blinking. And our candidate knew exactly what she was doing…and only liked her more for it.”
Enough of that.
I ordered, “All of you get going.”
Lord Otto swapped his attention to me. “What? You’re the only one who can rub that shit in?”
“Yes. That anger’s mine to own. No one else’s.” I pointed at the door. “Get. Now.”
One by one, they filed out.
I shut the door behind them. Then locked it.
Not that it would do much good.
If a druid wanted in, they’d get in.
Chapter Twenty
Gwynnore
I wore all of my weapons—showing and hidden—as I stepped outside the empty bedchamber and took my time to make sure the door was locked properly. I wiggled the door handle twice, double-checking that it wouldn’t budge. The solid wooden door didn’t even jiggle in its frame, perfectly fitted.
Eeeeee-eee.
I jerked in place and slowly turned my head to the side. I peered behind me, carefully searching for the violence of that high-pitched scream. The only thing in view was a table with a vase of blooming lilies perched on top of it. There were no hearts beating close by.
Eeeeee-eee.
I flinched and swung around with my right hand on the handle of my knife that was holstered against my right thigh. I demanded, “Who’s there?”
Were they blocking my hearing?
Was it possible a druid could hide their heartbeat?
No answer came. Time ticked by in the silence.
With more firmness, I ordered, “Show yourself!”
A thumping started.
Bang, bang, bang.
My eyes lowered to the table before me—to what might lay hidden behind the cabinet doors on it. I stared for a long time, not moving. The thumps only increased in harshness, shaking the frame of the stand. I muttered under my breath, “What the ever-lovin’ fuck is that?” And did I really want to open those two innocent, tiny doors to find out?
I was thinking it was a definite ‘no.’
One of the doors broke open. Choice gone.
I took a step back and lifted my blade from its sheath, ready for anything. It was either another parlor trick, or it was something truly nasty.
A porcelain female face peeked out from behind the remaining closed door. Old-fashioned glass eyes blinked, her plastic lashes fluttering. Half her face drooped from a thick crack down the center of her face, her head only held together by the back of a solid skull. Dirt and grime and green crayon smeared the rest of her face. And her filthy brown hair was missing large chunks at the scalp here or there all over her head, showing the tiny black holes where the locks used to be fitted inside the porcelain.
I didn’t lower my knife.
She blinked again, and her mouth opened.
Eeeeee-eee.
I flinched at the god-awful screech.
The foot-tall demonized doll squeezed out of her hiding spot, jumping on two stiff legs to the ground in front of me. The dolly swayed back and forth. She wore a dark maroon dress that appeared to be in the 1950’s style of a homemaker, and her dirt crusted feet were bare. Her black, glass eyes simply stared up at me from her cracked face while she occasionally blinked with her plastic lashes.
Another damn way to spy.
I glared. “You are not coming with me.”
Eeeeee-eee.
I flinched again and wanted to cover my ears.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, stop doing that!” I shoved my knife back into its sheath and pointed a sharp finger at that hellish face. “Master Niallan, this is completely unacceptable—and creepy as hell. Stop the parlor tricks.”
The broken toy didn’t move. It stared.
A shiver worked up my spine. “You are one twisted motherfucker.” I ground my teeth together. “This shit is done.”
I lunged at the doll. My left shoulder rammed into the table and the vase tipped over, crashing to the floor in a shatter of glass. I twisted to keep from landing on my face, but my hands were empty. Fucking hell!
With vampire speed, I pulled my gun out and fired off two quick shots in rapid succession. Right and left. I followed the doll’s blurring movements and fired off two more rounds.
My finger hovered over the trigger.
The hellish doll squatted right in front of me.