Page 113 of Fae Farewells

The ancient vampire grimaced. “Are you sure?”

“Do you think I shouldn’t?” she countered vaguely, not dropping a hint of a clue as to what the fuck she was doing.

“Honestly?”

He waited for her to nod, and when she did, he broke character, giving her a delighted chuckle.

“I think it would be the greatest godsdamned thing I’ve seen in a thousand years. Best to keep that a secret, though,” he mentioned conspiratorially. “I’ll do what needs to be done. You can take your leave.”

Sloane stood, straightening her clothes as she glided across the room. I chuckled to myself as I watched her. She was covered in blood. Again. Yet she teased the lace skirt back into place to appear more presentable.

She really was the love of my fucking life.

I’d been an ass… Lied and manipulated her. Pissed about, even though I knew how I felt.

I wasn’t ready to say it, but it was there.

“Are we just going to stand around? Or has anyone checked on—”

“They’re fine. The fight has been over for a minute now. They’ve moved the summer fae to the dungeon and gone to clean up.” Briggs explained, then bounced his finger at her cleavage. “You, uhh… You have some fur in your tits, Barbie.”

She glanced down, frowning as she whispered, “That’s gross.”

“You know what I find funny?” Novak asked, grinning at us.

“Dick jokes,” York guessed.

“Puns,” Stone suggested.

“Driving us crazy?” Vaughn inquired.

Novak cut his gaze to them before grinning at Sloane. “Your demon isn’t afraid of horses.”

“No,” Sloane replied. “She’s not scared of anything. But she thought it was funny to give me control back after Bowers kicked me in the chest.”

“That’s my other bitch,” Stone murmured to her.

She smirked as she lifted her middle finger. “Your other bitch is a pain in my ass.”

The way she said that gave me pause. “Why? What did she do that was out of the ordinary?”

“The mental locks are taxing on her. And no fear means no feeding, so she zapped my energy when she retreated. That’s why I asked you to break my back. It’s a lot of pain, but quick to heal.”

“And your wolf?” York asked. “Is she still silent?”

“Lumbering in the dark recesses of my mind.” She shrugged. “Alert, but too quiet for my liking.”

“What can we do?” I prompted.

Sloane sighed. “Nothing right now. I won’t remove the locks until they grow weak. Twenty-four hours, tops. Then we’ll have to reassess. But I don’t know where to go from there.”

“So, we’ll wing it,” I assured her.

“When the locks are down, you guys will have to make the plans,” she affirmed. “Don’t tell me anything that I don’t need to know.”

As we left the throne room, she glanced over her shoulder. “It’s going to be a rough week. This was the easy part.”

Sunday, June 21th