Seven Black Diamonds (Seven Black Diamonds #1)(31)

“I don’t know. All I can say is that she didn’t greet me like she was expecting me. She was not pleased by the bombing I arranged to welcome her. It was strange . . . and troubling.”

He lifted Alkamy to her feet, kissed her forehead, and grabbed her robe. Seeing her covered in soil only emphasized her otherworldly appearance. Of all of them, she’d always be the most likely to be outed—and if she was arrested, Zephyr wasn’t sure he could restrain his vengeance. It was moments like this that made him more sympathetic to the Queen of Blood and Rage. There were people in life who were worth a storm of destruction and terror. He understood that . . . because of Alkamy.

“Go rinse,” he said. “I’m going to swing by Cuthbert’s office and see if I can find out where Lilywhite will be rooming. Do you want me to check on your latest suitemate?”

“Met her. Got rid of her.” Alkamy grinned and shrugged on the robe he held out for her.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You are so Unseelie. No doubts.”

“We’ll see some day, I guess.” Alkamy grabbed her bag of oils and slipped her feet into sandals. “I’m going to the tubs.”

Every dorm had a basic bathroom with showers, but there were also slipper tubs on every floor that were open for leisurely soaks. Zephyr had spent one very memorable night there with her. He smiled before he could help himself, and then shoved that memory back into the mental box where he kept it now.

He offered her his arm. “Escort?”

Alkamy rolled her eyes. “There’s no one around to preen for, and everyone already thinks I’m a notch in your bedpost. Give it up until the masses arrive.”

She wasn’t like him: she wouldn’t fight because the queen ordered it. One late night, she’d admitted that she was only going along with her role as a Sleeper because of him. He was her reason—which meant he had to keep her on target. If not, she’d likely die.

“I still miss you,” he whispered.

“And I’m still right here. Always.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

Zephyr lapsed into silence as he escorted her to the door of the bathroom. That was the problem: she was here, but not really. She was in his arms, but not the way he wanted. She was at his side, but not his to keep.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Alkamy urged as they stopped at the bathing room.

“Define stupid?”

Alkamy sighed and kissed his cheek. “Whatever you’re thinking, most likely.”

He grinned.

“I’m serious,” she said. “She’s not from our world—the fae one or the human one.”

“She’s the last of us, Kamy.” Zephyr opened the door to the bathing room. “She needs to know. We need to tell her.”

Alkamy ignored the opened door. “Can you at least not tell Endellion?”

He frowned at her and let the door fall shut. “Title only, Alkamy. No one speaks the old name casually. Not here or over there.”

“And isn’t that proof enough that we shouldn’t let her know about Lilywhite yet? Should we obey someone we are supposed to fear?” Alkamy was clearly trying to keep her voice level, but failing.

Zephyr sighed softly, “I live to serve her. We all do.”

Alkamy frowned. “I’m not saying you should lie to the queen . . . not really. Just omit what you can.”

She stepped away from him, pushing the bathroom door open again.

Zephyr waited until she stepped into the room, but as soon as she let the door fall closed, he turned away. He didn’t want to fight with her, but he couldn’t listen to her treasonous words. Hearing them meant he’d have to tell Clara—or worse yet, Endellion herself. He couldn’t even imagine what would happen if Alkamy were found guilty of treasonous thoughts or actions. The best-case scenario was that she’d be punished, and that would try Zephyr’s loyalty the way nothing else had.

He’d fight the queen’s war. He’d shed blood at her word. Those were decisions he’d made in order to protect his cell. But he wouldn’t lose Alkamy. For her protection, he’d face the queen’s wrath.





fourteen


WILL

Will curled up on the end of the sofa in Violet’s hotel suite, watching her pack an astounding number of blouses, skirts, trousers, and shoes into an array of suitcases. It was bizarre to have that much clothing. “You really ought to have someone do that.”

She leveled an unfriendly look at him. “No.”

“I could hel—”

“No,” she cut him off. “You read. I sort. I don’t mess with your coping strategy. You don’t mess with mine.” She had one hand on her hip and the other upraised, pointing at him. “And don’t think that provoking me is going to get any questions answered. I’m wise to your tricks now.”

Unapologetically, Will shrugged. He didn’t need a whole lot of tricks to guess what was wrong. Both Roan and Vi were being prickly. The news had a bit on a catastrophic tunnel fire, and the speculation that it was yet another attack by the Queen of Blood and Rage had been confirmed by one of her terse messages to a local news outlet.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Violet threw a boot at him. He caught it. Dealing with Violet’s temperamental nature was more of a game than a challenge.