She gazed at the world with a patience that stemmed from utter physical exhaustion, while she was filled to the brim with a private pool of remembered eroticism. She looked at him with a deeper knowledge.
There, his short black hair gleamed in the sunlight. She knew what it felt like as it slipped through her fingers. There, his elegant mouth. She knew how wise those lips of his were as they traveled along the peaks and valleys of her body. There, the movement of his long, strong fingers. She knew just how those fingers felt as they curled around her ankles, how they felt moving inside of her, where the calluses were on his hands and the way they rasped along her skin. There, his restless, intelligent eyes. She knew the steady promise in them as he took her and took her, until there was nothing left of her to be had for he had taken it all. Yes, he lived with her now, underneath her skin.
Rune pulled the SUV up to the black iron gates. There was a guard booth next to them. A young Dark Fae woman in a plain black uniform approached the driver’s side to greet Rune. Her fascinated gaze darted once to Niniane in the backseat, but other than that she comported herself with discretion. Niniane smiled at her, and after a hesitation, the guard smiled back. After confirming their identity, the guard moved back to the booth.
Nobody spoke as the gates opened. Rune drove through and braked just on the other side. Niniane turned to watch as the gates shut behind them. She looked through the bars at the bright Chicago street. It was populated with the usual band of frenzied paparazzi and news reporters who worked to capture the event as she left official U.S. territory.
She would not see the outside of those bars again until she was Queen.
Tiago put his hand over hers in her lap. His huge palm enclosed both of hers. He squeezed her hands until she looked at him.
He was staring at her with that steady, adamant bedrock gaze. I will do this, that gaze said. I will not leave you. I will take you and make you so completely mine, you will never know your life alone again. She relaxed and gave him a slight nod, and he rubbed the back of her hand with a thumb.
Rune accelerated the SUV up a wide paved drive that was bordered by manicured shrubbery, flowers and trees. Everything within sight was rigidly controlled, trimmed and shaped to within an inch of its life, Urien’s very own Versailles. A sense of nearby land magic tingled against her senses, and she knew what she felt was the nearby crossover point to Adriyel.
I meant to ask if there was any news on the investigation, she asked Tiago.
You will not trouble yourself with that, Tiago said. You have more than enough to deal with right now. We’re handling it.
She sighed. Despite their unprecedented intimacy, Tiago had never acted as her bodyguard before this week, and they had a lot to learn about each other. Ordering me not to trouble myself isn’t helping. I need to hear details.
There was a pause. Then he said, The investigation has moved forward a few steps. Rune and I went to the morgue and inspected the bodies of the three Wyr. We had a run-in with Arethusa that turned unexpectedly positive, although we’re keeping that under wraps for now. Why don’t I give you a complete update later when we have time to relax?
She gave him a quick smile. That would be good, thank you.
The SUV went around a bend in the drive, and the Georgian-style mansion came into view. It was an imposing structure, but she had expected nothing else. It stood three stories tall, with a stone facade that was half covered in dark green ivy. The front of the mansion had a roofed portico where carriages, and now cars, could pull and people could enter and exit from the building protected from inclement weather. The rows of tall windows shone with a hard polished gleam in the afternoon sun. There might be poison, innuendo, betrayal and murder within those walls, but there would not be a wayward speck of dust.
Her heart pounded. She whispered, “Urien’s dead.”
All three of her Wyr companions reacted. Tiago gripped her hands harder. Aryal twisted around to look at her. Rune took a deep breath.
Tiago said, “Urien may be dead, but this is still his house, and we have not been allowed to go through it. Remember, you need to go carefully. Whenever possible let one of us into a room before you.”
Aryal asked, “Are you wearing your stilettos?”
Niniane nodded. The harpy was not referring to fashionable shoes, but to Niniane’s pair of small sheathed knives with the thin two-inch-long blades. She wore them now, underneath her dress and strapped to her thighs.