King Cave (Forever Evermore, #2)(136)

I stared at the door, completely exhausted, having gotten maybe three hours sleep last night and wondering if I should get some more before attempting to knock. Hell, I couldn’t even stop to appreciate the beauty of the architecture. All it looked like to me was a thin three-story building — one of many lining the street — that was the color of sand, and lots of wrought-iron railings on tiny balconies. I yawned, scratching my neck and blinking blurrily at the door.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, but I did notice a curtain flutter. Well, the natives had noticed me. Best to get in there before they fled, because if they were still living in this highly populated area, they had to be extremely wary. In other words, a flight risk, and I wasn’t about to go running after anyone right now.

Popping my neck, I moved forward on wooden legs, getting Ezra’s number ready on my phone just in case I needed assistance. Throughout the day, he had sounded as if he was slowly waking from a dream, gradually becoming more like himself as he spent the time he wasn’t talking to me with his dad. He knew I had found my mark since I had called him before I exited the cab, and told me to call him if I needed him…well, he had actually ordered that last bit, but I preferred to think of it as a request. So, my finger was poised over the button, ready to dial.

I knocked.

No one answered.

I knocked again. “Hello? Anybody home?” Please speak English.

I was tired of the gibbering.

The door opened a smidge. Just enough to get the toe of my boot inside, so the door couldn’t be slammed. It was a Com woman who answered. My eyebrows snapped together and my gun was instantly pointed at her head. “Let me in.”

She opened the door.

Thank f*ck, English lives.

I stepped inside, and after scenting the air and glancing around, I put my phone into my pocket, keeping my gun aimed on the Com as she closed and locked the door, trembling. The entrance was thin with a wrought-iron spiral staircase rising up to the second floor. The floor under me was tile, and expensive artwork in taupe hung on the wall. Additionally, the smell of lion hung heavily in the air, along with an old, fading scent of…I sniffed again…jackal. Long dried Mystical blood also tainted the air.

When the Com turned to me, I spoke, “Are you the owner of this house?”

“No, miss. I only work for the owner.” Her hand was slowly creeping behind her.

“If you’re smart, you’ll put your hands in the air.” I would shoot her in a heartbeat.

Her jaw hardened, but she nodded and did as told.

“Turn around.” I slowly started forward. “I won’t hurt you, if you do as I say.”

She actually glared. “Then why are you here?”

I scented…her protection. Ah, a Com who was a Mys lover. I didn’t know we still had those. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I only want to talk with the owner. But finding you, a Com, at the door was a bit of a surprise.” I paused at her clear confusion while her narrowed eyes took in my form. “Believe me, darling, I’m Mys, and you’re not. Therefore, I’ll still want you to turn your ass around so I can disarm you.”

I froze, keeping my gun aimed, while hearing from the second floor the click of a safety being thumbed on a gun. The Com didn’t hear it, couldn’t with her weaker ears, but I quickly — since my f*cking back was to the upstairs balcony — and loudly stated, “I mean you no harm.” I just want to take the boy. Yeah, that didn’t sound right. “Are you the owner?”

“You’re trespassing,” a man’s deep rumble came from the balcony. The Com woman smirked, but was smart enough to keep her hands in the air. “Leave now and I won’t shoot you.” His voice held the bite of a lion Shifter.

Bingo.

I snorted, a little delirious from fatigue. I definitely should have gotten more sleep before entering this house. “I’m your Queen. You’d better not shoot.” I paused. “Or threaten me again since it’s against the Law, but I’ll let that one slide since you’re living in plain view in a city full of Coms.” Idiot. I didn’t say that, but it was definitely implied.

Full on silence, then he replied, “I don’t have a Queen.” He didn’t mention a King.

I sighed. The no fanfare and no party of my crowning didn’t help this issue, even though I had appreciated not being made a spectacle of. “I’m Queen Ruckler. Sent to find the next Prodigy.” I growled low, letting my wolf take voice, the Com woman’s eyes flying wide at hearing the evidence I was, in fact, Mystical. I was done playing nice. I was about ready to drop in exhaustion. “Get your ass down here where I can see you.” I let my command unleash.

I heard him grunt, then a tawny-haired brute of a man appeared in the corner of my eye, where he had trekked halfway down the stairs, jerking from the command. He looked thirty-five in Com years, so he had been around for the last war. He knew better than to hide in a place this filled with Coms. I growled in irritation, but he still had the gun in his hand, so I didn’t make any sudden movements.

My eyes flashed. “Set the gun down gently.”

He did so, even if fighting my command, his eyes narrowed, his hate at being manipulated clear.

“Tell the Com to turn the f*ck around so I can disarm her.”

“Do it, Mac,” he stated instantly. “She’s telling the truth. She’s not here to harm us.”