“Not likely,” Chase blandly said. “She already dislikes how long committee meetings take, and frequently brings additional work.”
“I don’t believe you that she lacks sense,” I said. “She sounds practical. I had to sit in on a few committee meetings as part of my hunter certification, and they are dead boring.” I shivered at the memory.
Politics—they’re the worst! Give me the forest any day.
I itched to pull out my twin daggers, but Greyson had made me put them in the glove compartment of his car when we first headed out this morning—when I was too groggy to argue.
Chase shook his head at me, then pivoted back to Greyson. “I’ll report in if I find anything.”
“Thanks. Look for reports of wolves inexplicably going feral, too, please. Ember is looking over the statistics of the past few years in North America to see if there’s an increase, but you might learn something different coming at it from a fae base of power,” Greyson said.
“Yes, Alpha.” Chase’s gaze strayed to the door, and after a few moments, I thought I heard the muffled tap of footsteps.
The door abruptly swung open. A beautiful woman scrambled through it, shut the door, then leaned her back against it and exhaled sharply.
Her dark hair was tousled—which didn’t quite match the beautiful silken gown she wore that gleamed thanks to the opals sewn into the skirt—and she was model tall with the pronounced, glamorous features of a fae, though her eyes—a magical shade of purple-ish blue—were bright with a kindness fae didn’t usually have.
But that was the cornerstone of the easily recognizable Queen Leila, the monarch of the Night Court: her kindness.
Queen Leila flicked her hair from her face, then straightened when she noticed our presence. “Good afternoon!” She strolled across the room with a grace that was at odds with the way she’d practically thrown herself inside. “Alpha Greyson and Pip! I’m so glad to see you in Magiford again.”
It was hard not to chortle with glee that a genuine fae queen recognized me, but that’s the kind of person Queen Leila was.
“Queen Leila.” I hovered between a bow and a very awkward curtsey—I didn’t meet many royals.
“Queen Leila,” Greyson murmured as well.
“It’s just Leila, please. You two are practically family, anyway, since you’re Chase’s Pack.” Leila reached the giant windows and peered outside, looking beautiful as she stared into the gardens, which was how I almost missed her checking the latches on the window to see if it would swing open. “Are you staying in town for long?”
“Unfortunately we must leave this afternoon. The drive back to Timber Ridge is several hours long, and we’d like to be home before midnight.” Greyson bowed to her as she moved down one window and tested the locks on that one as well.
“An hours long drive?” That distracted Queen Leila long enough from her lock-testing that she frowned and peered in our direction. “Chase, why don’t you just take them back with the night mares?”
“I’m on duty,” Chase said.
Queen Leila rolled her eyes as she yanked on another window latch that also didn’t budge. “Yeah, I forgot you have a thing about work. You could take a fifteen-minute coffee break and that would be more than enough time for the night mares to take them home. All you need to do is show the night mares a map and they’ll figure it out.”
“I would be unreachable for those fifteen minutes,” Chase said.
“I’ll be fine,” Queen Leila said. “It’s fifteen minutes—what could happen?”
Chase flattened his lips. “With you? A lot.”
Queen Leila circled around back to the last window she hadn’t tried. “Fine. I could find Rigel and sit on him—would that make you feel better?”
“Sit on me? Is that a human euphemism for something?”
Leila jumped—and I was caught off guard, too—when the window she’d been heading toward was suddenly open and filled with a crouched fae.
With his silver hair, nearly black eyes, and carrying enough hidden blades to outfit one of Chase’s guard squads, it would have been impossible to mistake Consort Rigel—Leila’s husband—as anyone else.
They were a love match—now. But they’d thrown the supernatural world into a tizzy when they’d first married, as Rigel had previously been the best fae assassin in North America.
“Fae-bae, hello.” Queen Leila leaned out of the window to kiss Consort Rigel’s cheek as he remained crouched on the window sill. “I just meant then I’d be so close to you nothing could hurt me.” She stuck her head out past her husband’s crouched body and peered down at the ground. “We’re on the second floor, but I could theoretically survive a fall from this height—right?”
Consort Rigel narrowed his eyes. “The Mid-Atlantic Winter King wants to swear fealty to you, not stab you in the heart.”
“With a polar bear. He wants to swear fealty to me with his polar bear.” Queen Leila shook her head as she looked up and down the line of windows.
“It’s the animal that represents his court,” Consort Rigel said. “Besides, you have magic that makes you likable to animals.”
Leila sucked her head back into the room. “Yeah, well likable isn’t on the same level as ‘let me put my face near your mouth full of teeth’! Even my survival instincts are too strong for that.”
“That’s good to know,” Chase said. “I’d lost all hope such instincts existed in you—because you’ve done plenty that should have made them kick in before.”
Queen Leila scrunched her nose. “Have you guys seen this polar bear? He’s like the size of an SUV!”
“It is unavoidable,” Consort Rigel said. “Queen Rime is quite insistent that her siblings swear fealty to you.”
“Yeah, and you can bet I’m going to give her a special attention for this wonderful idea,” Queen Leila grumbled.
“You liked to call animals like your night mares—before their transformation—cute,” Chase added. “You can’t backtrack now when it’s inconvenient.”
“It’s fine,” Queen Leila said. “So that’s a no to a window escape, then?”
“Correct.” Consort Rigel eased his way inside and stood up to his full height—which also gave me a good look at the daggers sheathed directly into his arm guards. Talk about nifty!
Queen Leila folded her arms across her chest. “Returning back to what’s important. Chase, if you can’t escort Alpha Greyson and Pip back home with the night mares, then send someone else in your place.”
Chase frowned at her. “Who? My people are all on a carefully scheduled rotation.”
“Chrysanthe would,” Queen Leila said.
“I would never ask Chrysanthe to look after such a personal matter for me,” Chase said.
“She’d cry if she heard you say that, you know.” Queen Leila approached the door and pressed her right ear against it—listening for the polar bear, I assumed. “If you won’t ask Chrysanthe then…I don’t know…someone with a lot of time on their hands? Oh! You can ask Lord Linus!”
Chase furrowed his brow so deeply it looked like it was sculpted out of stone. “Your father?”