“He believes you both are the cause of this deception and he told me to tell you that he wants nothing to do with you.” He quickly adds at my gasp, “Until you come clean.
“He said your deception almost cost him and the citizens of Garthorn their lives.” Tarren’s face reddens. “He’s really angry, so much so that he sent me here instead of himself.”
My mouth is hanging open. “That piece of shit.”
Tarren’s eyes widen.
“That arrogant devil can’t come and tell me himself?” I mutter to myself as my blood boils.
Tarren looks to Laura for help, but she just lifts her chin.
Bitch code.
I stand up. “Where is he?”
“That is not wise, my lady.”
Laura walks up to Tarren, saying slowly and firmly, “Tell her where he is. This is not your battle, Tarren.”
He exhales and glances at me, then finally mutters, “He HAS been a royal pain in the ass. Go get him then.” He winks at me.
I fight a grin. Apollo will not pull a temper tantrum after everything I have been through. I have a plan to bring that boy to his knees.
***
“Mort,”
“Yes, human.”
I am powerwalking to Apollo’s quarters after Tarren gave me directions. I am beyond over this. “We need to make a pit stop, code red.”
She is trying to keep up with me as she walks. “Code red?”
I am happy that Eltson is treating the Garthorn Royal Army with open arms. Three more Garthorn ships arrived today—that would be enough to make anyone crap their pants.
Eltson’s men do not have a choice but to be very hospitable. Especially after the knowledge of the sex trade got out.
“I need Pierce.”
“Take the door on your next right.”
We enter a small sitting room, thankful that it is empty. I am breathing hard, my adrenaline pounding through my veins. “I need a killer dress—or undergarments—whatever.”
She is typing and blinking faster than normal. “Oh. I have an update.”
“What?” I say, impatient. I just need to see Apollo—like, right now.
“Apollo is attending a party right now. He is not in his room.” Mort looks up at me. “It’s something Eltson put on to keep Apollo and the Garthorn royals happy until they leave at first light.”
“What?!” I shriek.
Mort is still typing. “Pierce says go to the party. Act like you are not there to see him. Play your cat-and-mouse game, then go in for the kill.”
I suddenly grin. “Pierce, you dirty dog.” I take a breath. “Is Laura going?”
Mort rolls her eyes. “No, I think she is mating with Tarren.”
“Gross,” I say. “It’s not called mating, Mort. She is making love, hooking up, getting laid.”