Hex on the Beach by Kelley Armstrong

Chapter Nine

“Geneviève of Stonehaven,” the king of Elphame greeted as he stepped into the clearing with a group of fae soldiers.

“Crowe,” I corrected. “Greetings to you, Marcus, King of Elphame.”

The king smiled but it was a tense expression. He was put-together as always. If my husband had an older brother who had just slain an army single-handedly, the king of Elphame would be that man. I trusted him as much as I trusted any faery or politician—which is to say that I felt as wary as he looked.

“Be welcome tonight, bride of my nephew.” The king met my gaze. The assembled guards, easily fifteen people, kept their silence. Swords were at the ready, and several were looking far too eager to draw them.

I sighed and dropped to a not-awful curtsy; my friends followed suit. Misty looked around like a drunk at an open bar. Allie held her gun loosely, ready but not starting trouble so far. Sera silently dropped our bags and handed me a sword.

“I seek haven for my friends . . . and a victim we rescued. We were attacked.” I was suddenly hyper-aware that we were bedraggled and pinkish. “We are safe, but . . . there was no way out.”

The assembled guards looked far from calm suddenly. They awaited orders, perhaps a rescue attempt.

“My nephew?” Marcus asked.

“Eli is at home, safe and blissfully unaware. I’d like to keep it that way.” I gave him a wry smile.

“Oh, Death Maiden, I think my nephew has more than met his match in you, hasn’t he?” The king didn’t stifle a smile that looked a lot like a laugh in waiting. “I shan’t be the one to tell him.”

The king stepped forward as if I wasn’t clutching a steel sword, and then the king of all fae in his world or mine kissed my cheeks in what appeared like fondness. I didn’t exactly trust that it was. The fae were nothing if not political.

“Welcome home, niece,” he whispered.

When he stepped back, I motioned to Sera, Christy, and Allie—naming each as I gestured their way. Then I added, “My friends and I were on holiday at the coast.”

“Roisin had mentioned an inability to reach you.” Marcus glanced at the fae guards. “There was a failure to update your travel plans for some reason. She was pursuing consent to forcibly enter the buildings where you were housed.”

“I told you something was wrong,” Roisin grumbled, sounding uncharacteristically human.

“You were correct, Roisin.” Marcus grinned. “Shall we prepare for battle, Death Maiden? I’ve not had a skirmish in quite an age. Let us roust those who have cast insult on my family.”

I tried to reply and choked on my words. “Roust?”

“I thought you said he was stuffy,” Alice whispered far-too-loudly in the silence.

And the king of Elphame laughed as if a grand joke had been shared. Then Marcus looked at Alice and said, “There are quite a few changes in my mood since my nephew has accepted his duty—subsequently marrying the prophesied Death that I thought would steal my throne. As a faery, Alice, I had thought that my own death would come if I grew too attached to a woman.”

“That’s so sad!” Alice stepped forward and hugged him.

As she did so a dozen guards surged toward her, and I stepped forward in answer. I was but one sword against fifteen, though. Rage bubbled in my belly.

“Boss?” Allie called. She was clasped in the king’s embrace, watching armed warriors aim weapons at her.

And in that moment, the magic I hadn’t been able to access since I’d raised a cemetery to fight woke with a roar.

“Mine!” The word echoed across the ground like a quake. A surge of almost maternal affection rose up—as did the very ground around us. The king and Alice were suddenly atop a tall hill where the ground had been flat.

Walls of soil encased Sera and Christy, and by proximity, Misty. They were safe from harm.

And Allie was out of reach of the guards with swords.

From atop the newly formed hill, Marcus stared down at me with a curious expression. He raised his voice and asked, “Yours how?”

Allie smacked him. G-d help me, she smacked the king.

“Don’t be a perv! She’s family,” Allie shouted at him. “I wouldn’t be fool enough to bed her even if she wasn’t twenty-seven kinds of drunk on Prince Eli. She’s a lot of work emotionally just being her assistant . . . and platelet supplier.”

Marcus made a gesture and stone steps appeared, carved into the soil and sod of the new hill. He offered Alice his elbow.

His words were clear as day as he asked, “Platelet supplier?”

“When boss almost died, she sprouted fangs you know? Lady B—she’s like you but fangier and scary but not quite as sexy—she said I need to feed the boss.”

They descended the steps as everyone there stared at them in a mix of reactions.

Allie continued, “So, Prince Eli tricked Gen into drinking blood. Not like all throat-bitey, though. That seems . . . intimate, and not really for me. I have a siphon and--”

“Allie, dear? Shut up,” Sera said calmly.

Alice snapped her mouth shut and nodded.

“Is she addled?” Roisin asked from my side.

“Such a good question,” Sera muttered.

Alice rose her hand, the one that was still holding a gun, like a pupil.

“Yes Alice?”

“Can we get a meal and some liquor for you before we go kick in the doors? And can we bring the faery lady who is staring at Sera?” Allie paused and grinned at Roisin. “Was that too blunt? I’m not sure of the etiquette. She’s single, though, Miss Faery Lady.”

Roisin folded her arms. “Not addled at all, is she? Sly.”

Sera grinned. “Try dealing with her regularly.”

“Food and refreshment sounds lovely,” I said loudly. “Then I will go deal with whatever monsters are there. If I could leave my friends here while I—”

“I go where you go, boss.” Allie still had a hand on the king’s arm, and he made no move to dislodge her.

“We will bring a squadron or two to handle this, niece of mine.” Marcus made eye contact with several guards, and they departed. Whatever orders he passed were handled so subtly that it was as if it hadn’t happened.

“Can we message Lady B?” Allie added. “I bet she’d love an excuse to come to San Diego. Plus, she loves a good fight.”

Marcus patted Allie’s hand. “So do I, my dear. So do I.”

I paused. “Alice, did my grandmother know about the spa?”

Alice paused, frowned, and then said, “She’s how I discovered it. Her legal team knew a guy, and we bought it from the original owners who had gone missing.”

I sighed, suspecting that my dear dead gran knew that there were draugr operating in San Diego. She couldn’t go there herself, because of the no-draugr policy the city had, but I had to wonder if she’d intentionally sent me as her emissary. If so, although I might not have known it, she’d dispatched me like a rabid hunting dog.

The king met my gaze, and I knew he’d made the same connection I had. “I’ll be at your side, Geneviève of Stonehaven.”

“Crowe,” I muttered. Then I added, “I look forward to battle at your side.”

By the timeI’d taken my friends to Eli’s house, which was also mine now that we were married, I felt the awkward need to ask my uncle-by-marriage what his intentions toward Allie were. There was no mistaking that spark of interest in his eye, and I wasn’t sure Alice was in the right frame of mind to be seduced by a faery king.

Once the guards had left, and Misty was sent off to wherever mortal who stumbled into Elphame went, I was ready to pull the king aside for a little chat.

“Misty will be okay, right?” Allie prompted again.

“I swear she will.” I gave Alice a reassuring look. “They treat humans well. She’ll have all her needs met, and she’ll build a life with the other humans. It’s sort of a forever-cossetted thing here. She can work—or not. She can date—or not. The only rule is that she can’t leave.”

Allie nodded. “Marcus is so sweet. I probably shouldn’t worry.”

Christy snorted. “Sweet on you is more like it. Human or fae, people are people, and that man was panting at you so hard he was practically tripping on his tongue.”

Allie sniffed as if dismissing Christy’s words. “He was just kind. Friendly. Being a good host. Right, boss?”

I met her gaze. “Allie, the king wants you. It was as obvious as the way Roisin watched Sera. The fae might not be blunt, but they are believers in enjoying love and sex. So, in that area . . .” I shrugged. “Eli likely slept his way through half the city. Beautiful, eternal, and sexual. It’s what they are.”

Allie walked over and started to clear the table when we saw trays of food being carried toward the house. “Well, I think you’re wrong,” she said primly. “I’m a widow. He was just being a gentleman.”

I exchanged a look with Christy. Clearly, I would be having a super awkward chat with my new uncle. Maybe reaching out to Eli—and asking him to handle it--wasn’t such a bad idea after all.