Her lungs compressed at his defensive tone. “I’m not,” she assured him. “It matches my outfit.” Then she shocked herself. She stepped into Roux’s personal space and wound her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder, seeking comfort.
After a minute of immobility, he shifted, returning her embrace. Tightly.
“I must admit, this isn’t the reaction I expected,” he said. “And I had no idea what to expect.” After kissing her lips once, twice, then lingering and cursing, he asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“Ready,” she said with a nod. More than ready, actually. There was no better way to end this day than screwing over Penelope and reclaiming the dagger.
“The second we arrive, I want you to mist.” Roux hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “From there, follow me in silence. Upon entering the palace, I’ll head to the throne room. You will launch your search.”
“How long will I have?”
“The feedings vary in length but usually last at least an hour. For that reason, you will flash to the location where we first landed, and you will do so within sixty minutes of our arrival. No later. And no matter what happens to me, you are not to attack the wraiths.”
“If a spirit-hag steals one of your organs, I make no promises. That’s my shtick.” But okay. His plan sounded simple enough. And once she got inside that palace, she’d have the ability to return anytime she desired. An ambush could be arranged...
Roux transported her to a rickety drawbridge shrouded by thick white fog. Blythe wasted no time with questions. She simply did as he’d requested and misted, taking a form not even other spirits could discern.
“This way,” he told her softly. When he crossed the creaking wooden planks, she floated behind him. As soon as they exited, putting their feet on solid ground, the fog parted, revealing Penelope standing in a doorway, wearing a see-through pink nightgown.
Do not strike. Do not!
“How intriguing,” the wraith said. “What’s this you’ve brought me, darling?”
He stiffened, and Blythe would have lost her footing if she’d been walking. Had she seriously been spotted already?
“What did I bring you?” he asked.
Penelope waved to the Astra’s groin. “Another erection. I’m beyond flattered. Truly.”
Okay. All right. But also not okay. Not all right.
“That isn’t for you,” he snapped, and dang if it wasn’t sexy.
“Sure it’s not.” The wraith winked at him. “Too bad for you the Astra aren’t able to mist the way Erebus does. You would then be able to handle spirits.”
“Enough chatter. Let’s get this done.”
“Tsk, tsk. So rude tonight. But I guess anything’s better than your smile.” Penelope spun and glided into an empty foyer. “Come on, then. The others are waiting.”
Blythe could handle spirits, no problem. And she was sooo tempted to solidify just enough to lash out. How did Roux put up with this female night after night?
He stomped after Miss Murder. Unnoticed, Blythe branched off, heading in the opposite direction. Fifty-nine minutes on the countdown clock.
She’d never forgotten Lucca’s claim that Penelope possessed a treasure room, and the only entrance was found in her bedroom. So, up the stairs Blythe blazed, on the hunt for the primary bedroom. No doubt a “queen” like ole Pen demanded the very best. Except the primary was as empty as the foyer. So were all the other bedrooms. She walked through every available doorway and got nowhere fast.
Could the entrance be hidden in the walls, maybe? Or the floor?
With the countdown clock ticking in her head, Blythe patted as many walls as possible. Searched the floors with an eagle eye. Hunted any well-portals that might lead below the palace. No luck. The most she managed to do? Uncover a vent.
“I thought about going first tonight.” Penelope’s sultry voice wafted through its slats. “In the end, I decided to go last and sample your deepest hatred. But you don’t mind, do you, handsome?”
Roux’s response was muffled, and Blythe pursed her lips.
“Mmm,” the wraith moaned. “My suspicions were correct. You rival the phantom.”
Frustration merged with annoyance when the sixtieth minute zeroed out, and Blythe had nothing to show for it. Though she was beyond tempted to make her way to the throne room, she set course for the front door, intending to head back to the drawbridge.
A pitter patter of footsteps echoed. Seconds later, a unibeast clomped into the chamber.