WHAT HAPPENED IN the vampire court once I left?” Envy had his back to Alexei as he asked, attention fixed on the cocktail he swirled in one hand.
It was well past the hour he should have retrieved Camilla for their dinner, far past when he should have checked on his court, too.
He’d made no move to leave the cottage.
He’d felt victorious after leaving Camilla aroused in the tub until he heard her orgasm through the walls. She’d knocked him clear off his high horse with that move. He’d grabbed some oil, fisted his aching cock, and stroked himself to orgasm while envisioning her.
“How many tried to take Blade’s throne?”
“Two heirs, Your Highness.” Alexei sounded amused. “Their heads are on spikes. One outside the throne room, the other outside Blade’s bedchamber. With a warning that he’s always watching.”
“Brazen, bold. A bit dramatic.” Envy snorted. “Glad to see Blade is taking to the role as expected.” He turned. Alexei cocked his head. “No clues, then?”
His second shook his head and didn’t elaborate. With a tight nod, Envy dismissed him.
He went back to considering his drink, playing over the encounter with Wolf.
Envy did not believe in coincidences.
The world was far too vast, the realms too plentiful, for anything to be random. Especially while a game was in play. Somewhere, buried in the seemingly random interaction, had to be the next clue.
There was no other good reason for Wolf to risk entering demon grounds uninvited. And the fact that he’d once been Unseelie nobility added to the possibility that Lennox had used him to deliver the next riddle. Of course, Envy couldn’t stop his mind from spinning with farfetched theories about how Camilla had responded when she’d seen the Fae, too. Envy had scrutinized Wolf, wondering if he’d been the male Camilla had shown him in that memory.
He gritted his teeth. He shouldn’t be thinking about that cursed memory still, but his sin needed an outlet, and feeling envy brought his senses into sharp focus.
Envy tried to use that now. He focused on the very first words the Unseelie had spoken, arranging and rearranging them a hundred ways.
Rumors abound.
It was a throwaway answer, given casually. The fact that it had been the gossip-column headline made it almost innocent, something easily overlooked. So of course, he was suspicious.
If it was an anagram, there were several possibilities.
O, absurd on rum.
Sob around rum.
Armor bound us.
A mob surround.
He was getting nowhere.
Absurd on rum could be Gluttony, he supposed. He’d probably sob after imbibing too much liquor too, especially if the reporter bested him again in a battle of wits. Armor bound us, perhaps Wrath, the war-seeking deviant. A mob surround might speak of Pride.
Previous clues had left Envy feeling certain of what he was after. None of these clicked into place as soundly, felt as right.
Envy swirled his liquor again, the darkness spinning wildly around a giant cube of ice. The rattle soothed him. As did the liquor itself. He was stalling.
The truth was, he didn’t want to see his court. The last time had been horrific. Children… they were the line that should never be crossed. And it was all his fault.
What he’d find now, after more of his court succumbed…
His next clue had to be from that conversation. He had to move forward.
Envy shifted to when the Fae had been speaking to Camilla. In the moment, he’d allowed his sin to take over, cloud his judgment. Imagine all the ways the male would—or had—pleasured Camilla.
It was a mistake.
Envy was starting to wonder whether Lennox wanted Camilla with him for the final part of the game to distract him. If it had been the Fae’s plan, it was working. Even being aware of that fact, Envy couldn’t stop himself from succumbing to it. She interested him on too many levels.
Her parentage, her talent for painting reality, her clever mind, and that magical little lightning show. She was a puzzle he’d not yet been able to solve. And he wasn’t the only one intrigued by her. Wolf made it seem like there was another secret he either knew or suspected.
I’ll be seeing you, fair winter lady.
Envy set his drink aside and used a tiny bit of magic to summon his journal. Moments later he was scribbling down as many clues as he could form.
Fair winter lady.
Fear it inwardly.
Fire at inwardly.
Finality redraw.
Radiant wiry elf.
Envy cursed. The clue had to be there. The more he grasped at it, the more it seemed to slip through his fingers.
I friendly at war.
Fairway tendril.
He focused solely on winter lady.
Envy was suddenly aware of Camilla’s scent. She’d entered the room on silent feet, and her presence now burned like a candle behind him. Or a strike of lightning, he thought wryly.
He straightened, glancing over his shoulder. She wore a hunter-green velvet gown—his signature color—that made the silver of her hair and eyes glimmer like the moon. She looked ethereal, otherworldly.
Entirely forbidden.
He followed her silhouette with his gaze, struck silent by how regal she appeared, how elegant. How different from the tousled woman he’d pictured moaning in the bath, the one who’d had him cursing as he found his own release.
“You look…” like a personal disaster. His face tightened. “I suppose that will do.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t call him on the lie. She nodded at the several sheets of paper he’d torn out, crumpled all over the floor.
“Cause for concern?”
“Deciphering riddles.” He motioned to the ground. “Poorly.”
She strode over, careful not to touch him as she leaned in, tracing the letters he’d scribbled in his journal.
He’d sensed her shift in emotions earlier, how she’d wished for something he refused to give. Camilla wanted a fairy tale. And he’d been serious when he’d said he’d never be the hero.
Envy did not believe in happily-ever-afters, only stretches of time that could be more enjoyable than others. He liked Camilla’s company, thrilled at their push-and-pull flirtation, but he didn’t want friendship. And she needed to get back to her world, her gallery, her life.
“Dearly twin?” she tried.
His blood iced. As did the chamber.
Camilla instantly shivered beside him, drawing back to rub her arms.
He knew of twins. And he despised one of them. The one who’d just removed his blackened heart once again.
Gods-damned Lennox.
“It was only a guess…,” Camilla said quietly.
He yanked his anger under control, offering her a quick smile.
It did little to comfort her.
“An excellent guess. I believe you solved it, Miss Antonius. I just don’t like what comes next.”
He strode past her to the door, pausing to look back.
“I won’t be able to be at dinner. But please feel free to dine without me.” He snapped his fingers and a servant appeared. “The cottage also has a studio stocked with paints and canvases. And a library. You are welcome to explore and use whatever you’d like.”
“Where are you going?”
“House Envy.”