Page 93 of Hateful Prince
“We need music, don’t we? I don’t think teaching me to dance without a beat is going to be very helpful.”
I held out my hand for her phone. “Let me choose the song. I know exactly which one.”
As soon as the first chords filled the room, I took her in my hold and began teaching her the steps. A slow waltz that allowed us to look into each other’s eyes while she learned to let me lead.
“Thank you, Kai,” she breathed after one dance turned into many. Her head was resting on my shoulder, her body pressed close to mine.
I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, loving the way we fit together. “No need for thanks, gem. It is my pleasure to dance with you. I don’t care what we’re doing so long as we’re together.”
She hummed happily and stayed right there in my arms. It was almost too good to be true, the knowledge that it was all falling into place. We were together, joined forever. And while there were still many obstacles we’d yet to face, not the least of which was my inevitable return to Faerie, I’d do everything in my power to keep it that way.
Dahlia
“You knew there was a fucking royal ball and didn’t tell me?” I screeched at the little version of Kiki on my phone screen. It was the next afternoon, and with Kai gone, all my intrusive thoughts had found their way back to the forefront. Needless to say, I was a giant ball of anxiety. A video call with my bestie was supposed to help, not make me more stressed.
“It’s not a royal ball. Those require royalty.”
“The guy’s a duke, Keeks.”
She ignored me and kept talking. “And yes, I did know. That’s why you have some dresses out for delivery as we speak. Also, before you get all snippy with me, some of them even have pockets. See, I listen.”
I rolled my eyes, thankful for her foresight but frustrated that she left me in the dark. “Why did you think it was a good idea not to mention any of this before now?”
“Because I know you. You latch on to any reason you can find to poo-poo all over large social gatherings. I just took care of one reason, so what others do you want to lob at me?”
Heaving a sigh, I flopped down onto my bed and stared up at the cracked ceiling. “There’s the issue of who I’m going with.”
“How did that even make the list? All of them, obviously. Next.”
“Um... there’s a whole fucking serial killer running amok.”
Under her breath, like clockwork, Kiki whispered, “Amok, amok, amok.”
“Seriously, Keeks. There’s a crazy psychopath who likes to steal body parts out there, and Masterson thinks it’s a good idea to bring strangers on the premises so we can all pretend everything's fine?”
“Maybe Masterson didn’t get a say. It’s run by the donors, right? The Donoghue Trust or whatever? Maybe they steamrolled her. Rich people think they’re invincible. Besides, all the residents are supernaturals like you, right? So who’s to say the donors aren’t as well. Pretty sure a bunch of hot-shot vampires can take care of themselves. Next,” she called again, like she was ushering in the next in line for an audition.
“No, Kiki, seriously. This guy is picking people off left and right. He’s a serious threat.”
“Well, use your scream thing on him. It seemed to work with Tor.”
“And take out everyone else at the gala? God, it will be the premiere all over again.”
“But you brought everyone back,” she pointed out unhelpfully. “Just do that again. But more selectively this time.”
“You say that like I know how the hell to control it. I don’t just decide when to scream and who to knock out, Keeks. It just happens. And I have no freaking idea how I brought those people back, or if the whole thing was some sort of fluke. What if I attempted it and accidentally raised an entire army of the dead? Then where would we be? In the middle of a damn horror movie, that’s where!”
“Why not ask your shadow daddy about it? He seems to have a pretty good idea about how your powers work.”
A rush of answering heat made me flustered and took the argument out of me. “God, you’re frustrating when you have answers for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I don’t remember saying thank you.”
“It was implied. I’m a master at reading subtext.”
“Is that so?” I asked, staring deadpan into the camera. “Well, what’s my face saying now?”