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“You'll marry the winner.” My heartbeat stopped. Or did it pick up speed? I wasn't sure. My mouth fell open a little bit, but no words came out.
“You can't be serious. You want me to marry someone I don't know just because you've made a deal with some syndicate leaders?” I shook my head without thinking. “They won’t even be a shifter, and we both know how you feel about that. What about finding my m—”
Your hand in marriage will secure the alliance we need.” That was easy for him to say when he wasn't the one being auctioned off like a prized cattle. Probably a better idea if I kept those thoughts to myself. “Which other syndicates are you working with?” “The Roses and The Divine.” The Roses were the last name of the family that ruled the fae syndicate; their territory covering all of Brooklyn. The Divine was the name celestial beings took to represent the angel and demon syndicate that ruled over Queens.
I was honestly surprised. He was a speciest. He didn't value any other species or race. In his mind, shifters were superior in every way. The idea that he'd want me to marry a fae, an angel, or a demon instead of a shifter? It went against his own moral code.
“Who are they? The candidates.” “The fae have put forth Adrian Rose and Niall Thorn.”
Thorn was the surname of nameless orphans to the fae. Roses were also protected by their thorns.
“And The Divine?” “Malachi Duarte.” If I lived a hundred lives, I never would have expected him to say that name again. “The fuck?” I sputtered, forgetting myself for a moment. “He’s gone. He left years ago . . .” “He didn't leave; he just went away for a while. I knew where he was.”
Oh, why didn’t he say so? This makes it so much easier knowing he’d made a compromise and it was hard for him. I wasn’t a violent person by nature, but I felt like it right then.
That wound would always be there, a gaping hole in my chest that I had learned to survive with. Not live with, really. Just exist. By bringing her into this, he called attention to that hollowness and now I was angry.
She was born a void. Someone without real magic but one that could also stop others from using theirs.
“My father just informed me that Alexander is going to join the trials to run for the chancellor seat in Earth and Emerald and it’s being announced tonight.” Sam jerked her head in my direction. “What? How?” “Oh, it gets better,” I added,
“What the hell did I just eat?” I ground out. “A whole chocolate covered strawberry, green top included. And a toothpick.” My eyes widened while I chewed. “Is anyone watching me?” Sam looked around. “A few.” “Mmm, so good!” I said, smiling and giving a thumbs up. “Not helping,”
“Nikki, stop it. Your dad is going to kill me if you get wasted in public,”
“Nothing too terrible. Alex is running for the election. My dad has been working with The Roses and The Divine.” I slammed one back and coughed, handing her the empty glass. Her lips parted in shock. “Oh, and apparently the deal he made for their alliance included me marrying whoever wins the fucking election. Cheers!”
“You don't need another one, and you're drawing attention to yourself. Try to chill for a second and explain to me what you mean by ‘you’re marrying whoever wins?’” “It’s rigged, Sam. Under the table deals have been made. Someone in Earth and Emerald is helping to pull the strings. The syndicate are going to win, one way or another. And if Alex doesn’t, I’m supposed to marry whoever does.” I held my stomach, feeling nauseous. “Ugh, this is like a movie, but the kind that doesn’t have a happy ending. It’s the kind where you are left slack-jawed and trying to figure out what you just wasted two
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“We’ll figure it out. Together. The trials last a while before they declare a winner,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “Maybe it’s time we considered”—she sighed—"Operation Sunnyside.” I knew it pained her to repeat what I’d affectionately named our backup plan. Operation Sunnyside was our escape from Manhattan. Permanently. It was similar to when the toys escaped the Sunnyside daycare in Toy Story 3. It was costly, and so dangerous it was more like a loosely drafted story outline than what I would consider an actual “plan.” I had fun thinking about it, and I had fun naming it, but it
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“Just ease up on taking whole drinks as shots and try to look before you end up eating a houseplant.” Chuckling softly, my lips turned up in a smile as I looked at her. “I’m glad I have you as a best friend. I don’t know what I’d do—”
“Is it Malachi?” Sam asked, scanning the room. “No, the guy that chased me to the subway last night.” I swallowed thickly, my mouth going dry. “My mate.” “Your fucking what?” A waiter walked by, and Sam grabbed a pink drink, slamming it back the same way that I had earlier. She gripped my hand pulling me toward an exit. “Start talking. Now.”
It was about that time that I noticed the occasional looks Nikki would give me. I pretended not to. Now, I wished I hadn’t. I wondered if we’d be here today if I didn’t play it so safe. We’d never know.
My breath caught in my chest when the most stunning sight caught my attention, literally stealing my breath away. A woman so beautiful, her face could have been carved by a goddess. Long lashes framed eyes so dark, they appeared black. I knew from experience that if I got closer, I’d actually see changing colors in their depth. Blue like the deepest ocean. Green of the darkest forest. Red that was only a touch darker than blood. Her eyes changed like the shifting of the wind. Wild and unpredictable, much like her.
Then her scent hit me. Frankincense. Cinnamon. Cloves. Heavy, warm spices. It might feel overpowering to a lesser being, but it called to me, unlike many females that smelled sweet or sugary. Nikki Ward was anything but.
Awe filled me as I took in the woman she'd become, but it was followed by irreparable sadness that while she was clearly the same Nikki, she also wasn't. There was a strength to her eyes that she didn't have before. A guarded expression. Her jaw was more angled now; the last bit of innocent roundness that had filled her young cheeks had diminished as the years had passed. She was sharp angles and hard edges.
Light scars peppered her skin that weren't there before. I didn’t like them. Not for vanity reasons, but because I hadn’t been there. The only thing marking her body should be me. I wondered what caused them and if it had anything to do with the significant muscle gain that wrapped her form. I’d find out soon enough.
Gripping the frame like it was all that stood between her and the floor was the mate I’d rejected. Desire slammed into me so hard I took a step toward her without even realizing it. My skin buzzed with an undercurrent of anxiety. It pushed me to take her, claim her, undo the wrong I’d done. I might have, if not for the way she was looking at me.
“Please, hear me out—” “No.” The short, apathetic word struck me. It would have hurt less if I’d taken a punch to the throat. My hands clenched into fists, and I fought my own baser instincts that urged me to go to her. To calm her. To fix what made her so angry. So hurt. Except I was the cause, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
Fuck, this wasn’t at all how I planned for it to be. Who was I kidding? I didn’t plan. Sure, I’d spent six years thinking about what I’d say when this day came, but it wasn’t careful planning that urged me to follow her into the women’s bathroom like a fucking creep. I was in here because of my inability to stay away from her once I had her in my sights.
“Too late,” she choked out. “I take it back,” I said quickly. Fear gripped me. Fear of the rejection I deserved. “I don’t reject you.” Her lips parted. For a split second, I thought I saw the briefest flicker of possibility. A moment later, it died a sudden terrible death to the fire that had just roared to life, metaphorically speaking.
Fuck. It hurt to leave, more than she ever knew, but being confronted with her—the new her—the woman that came out of her hurt, out of her grief, out of six fucking years of distance . . . I’d made an even bigger mistake than I realized. I should have never let her go. Consequences be damned.
“You’re right. I’m not your friend. I’m your best friend, and your mate.” Nikki shook her head, like she was in denial. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself of it. I knew she hadn’t rejected the bond. She didn’t then, and even if she did now, it wouldn’t snap. Not after I took back my own rejection.
“Friends don’t leave. Mates don’t reject you and then disappear for years. You . . . I don’t know what you are, but I know that you’re not mine.” Damn if those words didn’t kill me a little inside.
“And I don’t care what deal you made with my father. I will not marry you. Not now. Not after the election. Not in this lifetime.”
If I were an addict, she would be my drug of choice. Her mere presence was my addiction. My craving. Now I was standing in a pool of obsession; bathing in it. It was why I’d stayed away. Why I hadn’t returned to visit. Why I’d never even checked in. I couldn’t do anything half measure, especially not when it came to loving Nikki.
“I’m not giving up or walking away this time. Even if you reject me, I’ll be here.”
I braced myself for the impact, but it wasn’t enough. “I wish you would have stayed away.” And fuck if that didn’t hurt.
Fate—the bitch—was on a roll tonight. Two for two, she was.
The reality was nothing like the rehearsals in my head. Then again, none of my rehearsals involved him stalking me in a women’s bathroom at a party. I didn’t even know how to explain it, but it was such a Malachi thing to do.
This happened to be one such occasion. He’d retracted his rejection before I could even think. Was that a thing? Could you do that? It wasn’t like I was an expert on the rules and guidelines of fated mates.
Stolen kisses. Falling asleep with my head on his chest while we watched the moon reflecting on the river. The way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. I’d loved him so deeply . . . and I knew I’d never stopped. Nope. Seriously, Nikki? I couldn’t think like that. Not now.
“Malachi just happened.” Mocking his apology with whiny voice and air quotes, I filled her in. “He thought trapping me in the ladies room while he groveled, going on about ‘he made a mistake’ and ‘he always intended on coming back’ was a good way to win my affections.” Sam’s mouth fell open. “He didn’t.” “Yup.” “Did you give him the tongue-lashing he deserved?” Her face changed as though a thought had occurred to her. In utter seriousness, she lowered her voice and added, “Or is there a body I need to take care of?”
“None of my witty smackdowns came out. I was so confused because I wanted to fuck him and strangle him—maybe even both at the same time. But I do get bonus points because I didn’t cry. Not even angry tears.” I sucked those fuckers right back in where they belonged. She held up a hand for a high five. “Hey, there’s my girl. Finding the silver linings.”
“I’m a fucking wreck, Sam. The prick unrejected me, so that’s a thing, and I can honestly say I didn’t see that coming.” “Wait, can he do that?” “I don’t know, but that’s what he did. I know jack-all about mates, but I apparently have two now, so I should probably find a book or something.” “A book?” “Yeah, so I ca...
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“Thanks for being willing to hide his body,” I said with a wink as I looked over my shoulder. “Wouldn’t be the first time, though you’re hardly dressed for the occasion.” Sam grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Think my wedding dress would be better?” I snorted at my joke. “But seriously. Maybe black widows and praying mantises have it right.”
“If they think for one second I’m going to fu–” Oh, that? That was me slamming into a hard body. That’s what I got for not looking where I was going.
“The way he looked at you . . . It was intense.” “You mean the way he looked at me like I was a piece of meat? Because that's all I am. Every single guy that made a deal with my father is going to look at me like I’m the trophy at the end of the race.” The thought made me nauseous. “No, I mean the way he looked at you like you belonged to him,” she said quietly.
Sam nodded. “I didn’t get a great look at him when I was running because I needed to hightail it out of there, but that’s definitely him.” “First Malachi, now this guy? I haven’t even met Adrian yet, but it’s not like I have high hopes he won’t suck too. And I’m trying to dodge Subway-Mate-the-Shady-Brooklyn-Criminal, wherever he is now.” I waved my hand around in a wild gesture while I word-vomited. “You’re rambling, Nikki.”
Have you looked at my life the last twenty-four hours? Hello shit show, meet the dumpster fire.
Like my vagina is supposed to somehow make whoever wins loyal to him. Hasn’t he seen Frozen?” I demanded as Sam’s mouth popped open. “Hans betrays Anna and tries to get rid of her and Elsa so he can have the crown to himself. It doesn’t take a freakin’ genius to see that I’m next.” “First, this isn’t Frozen—” “I know. Anna and her family were good. Mine deserve to be screwed over, but come on. Did they really have to drag me down too?” “Second,” Sam continued, ever the picture of patience. “I won’t allow that to happen, and neither will you.”
“You go in there and own the room like the godsdamned phoenix you are.” I chuckled, standing up and putting my hands on my hips. “I feel like a godsdamned platypus.”
But for the life of me, all I could do was search. The scent of clove and cinnamon touched me, making my heart pound.
“It’s not danger,” Danni said calmly. “He senses his mate.” My head whipped to the side as I regarded her.
