He grabbed on to the ability and gave a soft mental tug, drawing it closer and closer to him. A little more…just a little more… His chest puffed as his every cell suddenly absorbed the magic necessary to see places he could not physically reach. Still he kept tugging, and tugging, and tugging. Drawing the magic away from her and into him.
Laila wouldn’t know what he was doing. His victims never did, until it was too late. Right now, she would be experiencing only mild fatigue. If he attempted to draw all of her abilities, all of her power, however, she would know and could try to stop him, erecting mental blocks.
Suddenly his mind opened up. In a blink, he was looking at Jane, as if he were sitting beside her. Only, he saw her through Laila’s eyes. And Laila saw the mask. Saw Odette. Odette’s dark hair, Odette’s green eyes. Her too-long nose and thick jowls.
Knowing Jane rested under that mask was enough to light his body on fire and soothe the sharpest edges of his fear for her safety. She was alive, unharmed. He would have her again.
“What did the slave do to you? Tell me before I perish from worry.” Laila ruined the effect of the demand with a yawn.
Jane fluffed her hair, every inch the princess. “Like you said before, he desired me. I desired him, one thing led to another, and we were steaming up the forest, if you know what I mean.”
“Did you bespell him to desire you?” Each word was tauter than the last. “You must have. Otherwise, he would be with you now. Yet, I have caught no sign of him. So where is he?”
“No, I didn’t bespell him.” Jane offered no more.
“Then how did you elicit his desire? He hated you, tried to kill you. You did something, I know you did. Just admit it.”
Jane smirked over at her, and it was a glorious sight. “Hold on to your panties, Laila dear, because this might shock you. I—wait for it—treated him with respect. You should try it sometime. You might be delighted with the results.”
Hate burned through Laila so relentlessly, Nicolai felt the heat of it inside his own body. “You lie. You’ve never treated anyone with respect. I doubt you even know what the word means.”
“Are we showing our claws now, darling? Because I promise you, mine are sharper.”
Pride filled him. No one would doubt she was Odette now. Not even the queen herself. She wore confidence as snugly as a cloak.
“I will ask you one more time,” Laila gritted out.
“Or what?”
“Where. Is. He?”
“Dead.” A casual shrug. “He’s dead.”
Laila’s mouth dropped open, a strangling sound emerging. “You killed him?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.” Jane threw her legs over the mattress, and winced. They must be paining her, he thought, wishing he were there to ease her hurts. She straightened. “Now, let’s go home. I’m eager to sleep in my own bed.”
Laila remained in place and crossed her arms over her middle. “Where’s his body?”
“I fed it to the ogres, of course,” she replied blithely. “What’s with all the questions, anyway? Nicolai did not belong to you.”
She was giving him what he’d told her he wanted, he thought. A chance to destroy Laila, undetected. Time to reach Elden, to kill the new king. And yes, the urgency was still there, simmering inside him, stronger with every minute that passed, but he still couldn’t, wouldn’t, leave her.
Relief bathed Laila, bleeding into him, but the emotion was as quickly schooled as the hatred. “I found the ogre cave. Nicolai’s body was not there. Others’ were, which has to mean he killed them and escaped.”
Jane didn’t miss a beat. “Wrong. I massacred the ogres. After they finished with him.”
The shock returned. “How?”
A buff of her nails. “A girl never reveals her fighting secrets. She might need them later on.”
A heartbeat of silence. A low growl.
“How dare you!” Laila shouted, no longer able to contain her emotions. She jumped to her feet, stomped her foot. “He was mine.”
Jane got in her face, putting them nose to nose.
“Actually, you spoiled brat, he’s mine. Was mine.”
Tension thickened the air, practically vibrating between them. Long moments passed, the only sound that of their breathing. Finally Laila backed down. She stepped away, widening the distance.
“Of course. You’re right.” Grudgingly offered. “So tell me. Why did you kill him?”
“I no longer desired him.”
Even though Nicolai knew why she said what she said, his inner beast did not like hearing those words. Later, he would have to be soothed. Later, he would have to explain his past with her and apologize for what he’d done.
Would her claim then become true?
“Now, then. Let’s return to the palace,” Jane said. “Guards. Move out.”
They hesitated.
“Now!” she screamed, her patience clearly gone.
This time, they scrambled to obey. Jane followed them, forcing Laila to trail after her. Nicolai could feel the princess’s desire to stab her sister in the back. But she didn’t, and as they marched out of the town, he skulked after them.
Soon…
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EVEN THOUGH, AS A PRINCESS of Delfina, she was carried on a plush velvet lounge, the sun blocked by a canopy of dark netting, Jane much preferred traveling with Nicolai. Where was he? Close, she thought. She could almost scent him, a hint of magic, a pinch of seductive spice. She prayed he’d opted not to follow her.
Laila thought he was dead. So, in a way, he was finally free of the bitch. He could travel to Elden, and do what needed doing. And Jane could deliver his vengeance—a special care package of lethal—for him.
The princess had killed an innocent woman for no damn reason. No wonder the people in town had been afraid of Odette. The royal family abused their power, and Jane wasn’t going to let them do so anymore.
Then she and Nicolai could be together again.
When Laila finally decided to stop for the evening, Jane’s legs were stiff from disuse. Not as stiff as they could have been, at least. In fact, not even close to what she was used to dealing with. No throbbing pain, no bone-crushing aches. However, a walk would have been nice.
Sadly, a walk wasn’t in the forecast for some time to come. She had to continue to lounge as the guards erected her tent. And decorated the inside. And carted in her trunks. Trunks Laila had brought with her, perhaps hoping to bribe her for a night with Nicolai.
When they finished, bowing before her and awaiting dismissal, Laila climbed down from her own raised lounge, stepping on their backs to reach the ground.
“There will be a celebration of your return,” the princess announced with a clap of her hands. “We will dine in my tent. My slaves will dance for us, and you may choose whichever you desire to warm your furs.”
Gee. Thanks. “Sorry, but I’m tired.” Jane climbed down, too, feeling guilty the entire time. Although the guards blinked with surprise at her slighter weight and that sparked a kernel of fear. “I wish only to bathe and sleep. And eat. I haven’t been fed properly in days.”
“Bathe, yes. Then join me. I will feed you. Since your return from the grave, there has been too much friction between us. I do not like it, and long for the ease of our former relationship.”
A lie, Jane knew. Laila hated Odette with the same passion she had craved Nicolai in her bed, but to protest was to, perhaps, act against the real Odette’s character. “Very well,” she said on a sigh. “I’ll join you in an hour.” A small reprieve, but a reprieve all the same. She made her way to her own tent.
A long soak in the portable tub did much to appease her aches and pains. A tub Rhoslyn had filled. The girl was a surprisingly welcome sight.
Jane scrubbed from head to toe, using the floral-scented soap that had rested on the rim. “Did Laila demand that you come on this journey or did you volunteer?”
Frizzy red hair bobbed. “I volunteered, princess.” She unfolded a vivid green robe from a trunk. “Just in case we found you, and you had need of me.”
I should have been nicer to this girl. “I didn’t see you until you entered my tent. Where were you in the procession?”
“Behind the third line of defense, with the rest of the servants and slaves.”
“I wished I’d known. You could have ridden in the carriage with me.” Jane emerged from the water and grabbed the towel resting on a nearby bench.
“I will help you,” Rhoslyn said, rushing over. The robe dangled from her arms.
“No, thanks.” There were some things she was now capable of doing herself—things she hadn’t been able to do while practically chained to a hospital bed—and she would never again allow anyone to do them for her.
Dried, she pinched one corner of the robe and lifted. Her lips curved down in distaste. Though finely made, the material was too wide for her, and far too thick. She’d melt from the heat. And, where the robe gaped, she’d fry like battered shrimp when in the sun.
“I am sorry if the cloth is not to your liking.” Free of her burden, Rhoslyn bowed her head. “You may beat me if you wish.”
Jane caught the layer of fear in her voice. “Beat you? Rhoslyn, I’m not going to beat you. Ever.”
The girl continued as if she hadn’t heard a word Jane had said. “I thought you would prefer something durable, rather than enticing. And your sister was quite eager to reach you, so I did not have much time to pack your things. I am not complaining,” she rushed to add. “I simply wished to explain why there are not many robes to choose from, and why I did not bring your very best.”
“You did great, I swear. I love the gown. Love it. See?” She dressed and twirled. “I’ve never felt lovelier.”
Rhoslyn offered her a genuine smile. “I am glad, princess. Oh. And I am happy to tell you that I brought your book.”
Jane paused, her heart suddenly thumping. “Really? Where is it?”