The Queen of Traitors
Page 43

Half of me wants to say, “Getting air.” That was the excuse I parted with, after all. But I’m in no mood to taunt the king. Not when my body aches from wounds that leave no trace.
However, I can’t tell him about the general, either. Not here at least. If the general’s bending loyalties to save my life, then I can do the same.
“I thought I saw someone I knew …”
It’s the only explanation I can think of. I’m a fairly terrible liar, and the king has a built-in bullshit detector.
Montes cups my face, frowning. “If you think you see someone worth tracking, you tell me, you don’t go chasing them yourself.”
I run my tongue over my teeth. I’ve always been independent; I don’t plan on stopping that now. And I certainly don’t plan on trapping myself in the king’s gilded cage so that he feels better.
He catches sight of my gun. Up until now he’s been concerned, but not panicked over my departure from the party. I can see the moment he begins to take the situation seriously.
His hands slide down my cheeks to the base of my neck. “Who did you see?”
Shaking the king’s grip off me, I slide the weapon back into its holster, uncaring that his soldiers are seeing a lot of leg in the process.
“A ghost from my past,” I say as Montes steps in front of me, shielding even this exposure from his men.
It’s too dark to be sure, but I believe that vein in Montes’s temple is throbbing.
“Do I look like an idiot to you?” he says sharply. “Tell me who you saw, or my men will quarantine the area and start interrogating everyone. I promise you, you don’t want that.”
I’ve seen the king’s interrogation techniques. They involve pliers.
“You are insane.”
“No, but you are if you think to keep information from me.”
There is no dealing with a man who’s willing to hurt innocents for my compliance.
Several people from the party are drifting outside, drawn by us. Now’s not the time to share secrets.
“I’ll tell you, but not here.”
The King
SHE DOESN’T TELL me until we’re back at our villa lying in bed. I think she only admits it then because I begin to stroke the soft skin of her stomach. She assumes it’s an advance—not that I’m ever opposed to sex—but at the moment I only want to revel in the fact that she’s carrying our child.
“General Kline was at the party,” she says, staring at the ceiling. “That’s who I saw, and who I ran after.”
My hand stills. “You chased after the same man who held you hostage—who nearly let you die—only weeks ago?”
My earlier rage is returning with a vengeance. I don’t know whether to be angrier at the general, who thinks he can come between me and my wife, or Serenity, who ran out to meet him with no regard to her life. She could’ve died, along with my child, for all her stupid heroism.
Worse, she covered for the man. That’s why she’s only telling me this now; she gave him time to get away.
I know my eyes are icy when they meet hers. “If you were anyone else—if I cared for you any less—I’d have you strung up by your thumbs and beaten.”
She’s right to think I’m full of empty threats. For all my violent promises, I wouldn’t dare hurt her, and I’d turn my wrath on anyone who’d try.
“Am I supposed to be frightened?”
“Goddamnit, Serenity.” I pull back and look at her. “I’m serious. I will put you on house arrest—I’ll take away your gun, strip you of your duties, and keep you secluded to a single room if I have to.”
She pushes me back into the mattress and leans over me. “Kline warned me that Estes is planning an ambush. The man you want to spearhead the leadership of this territory is going to try to kill us both at some point within the next week.”
I stare up at her. My mind’s primed for a fight; I expected her to lash out, not to divulge. If it were any other time, I’d turn Serenity’s reaction over and over in my mind and find all the ways that she’s changed since I first met her. All the ways she’s begun to give into me.
Her words sink in. An attack. The former general sought my wife out to warn her of an attack.
My reaction is instant—I will take out any who try.
All that is evil in me rouses at the possibility.
However, plots to end my life are a dime a dozen. And considering where this warning came from, I have serious concerns over its validity.
There are a hundred and one reasons the Resistance would want us to leave this place early. The one that tops the list—sabotaging the discussions. Weeds like the Resistance thrive in the wild. There is no room for them in the civilized world. South America is still largely in chaos, but as soon as I place certain figureheads into—limited—power, the territory will come to heel.
“Is there any basis for this accusation?” I ask. I’m glad she confided in me, but a warning from the WUN’s former-general-turned-Resistance-officer is not a reliable source.
“Does there need to be?” Her eyes are wild. She thinks me crazy for not taking this seriously.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I roll us so that now she is the one laying prone on the bed, and I am the one hovering over her.
“Of course,” I say. “Serenity, this is the same man who nearly let you die when the Resistance held you hostage. This is the same man whose son arranged for you to be shot. And this is the same man who willingly gave you to his enemy.” I hold her in my arms, completely unashamed that I am that enemy. “How do you know he’s not trying to force you into some plot of the Resistance’s own making?”
“The same way you know I won’t kill you,” she says.
I don’t bother to hide my surprise that she admitted this. I’m not the only one who doles out empty threats, but this one in particular she wraps around her like a safety blanket. To acknowledge that she’ll never have her revenge … this is another turn of events I have to mull over once the time is right.
However, the only reason she would admit this now is because she wants to be taken seriously.
I can give her that.
“Alright,” I say, already groping along the nightstand for my phone. “I’ll inform my men of the threat, and I’ll arrange a morning flight for us.”