Page 14 of Gemini Wicked

Now the entire ship’s watching us. Watching in an eerie silence that confirms every one of my horrid suspicions.

Something about this entire scenario is about to explode in our faces.

The pregnant silence is broken by the low growl of the dive boat motor.

Clearly, that’s Dez at the throttle.

“Whatever this is, I don’t want any part of it,” Zara says curtly. Her turquoise gaze veers to find me. “We’re going.”

“An excellent notion.” Lucius dips his chin in a nod of relief. “I’ll just remain behind to make our excuses to the queen—”

“Actually,” Lover Boy says from his safe spot at Cleo’s side, “you’re staying. You all are. For the ceremony.”

Zara barks out a laugh and gives her vivid head a violent shake. “Yeah, no, I don’t think so. For some reason, you know, I’m just not feeling it?” She shifts into motion and strides toward Racetrack, with Ronin and Neo falling right in behind her. “Not gonna be any effing coronation tonight—”

“There will be a coronation tonight, Zara Gemini, I assure you.” A familiar female voice, ringing with authority and projected to carry, jerks my startled gaze toward a sudden blaze of electric light from the stage that nearly blinds me. “A coronation to crown the next queen. The queen with whom I willingly share my throne and my power. But that queen won’t be some trashy casino slut of a Gemini who gets photographed carousing in a naked orgy.”

Scattered murmurs sweep the ship. The assembled crowd of looky-loos is nodding like bobble heads.

Morons.

Messalina lowers her voice for effect. “Or a reckless, willful, wicked girl who kills her own mother and wipes out half of downtown Vegas in a temper tantrum. That wicked girl is unworthy to be anyone’s queen.”

Zara stumbles in her stilettos and sucks in a ragged gasp.

In the twisty maze of my brain, a fiendish recognition of this entire diabolical setup finally snaps into place. I tingle with an electric flood of rage.

“That manipulative Aquarius cunt,” I hiss.

“What the fuck?” Ronin spins around looking murderous, black hair flying around his powerful frame, psi fire burning in his eyes.

My stare sweeps over Zara’s whitening face—it’s truly a low blow, attacking my girl over that ancient history, due to her mother’s piss-poor judgment, when Zara was just a child—then swerves back to Messalina.

Our hostess with the mostest is standing at center stage, looking regal and unstoppable in her glittering purple gown, and using the diva’s own mic to make her public service announcement.

“I’m crowning the next Aquarius queen,” Messalina announces to the world at large. A murmur of interest ripples through the idiotic crowd. “I’m crowning my daughter with my late husband Oberon, the last Dark Fae King.”

“Oh, crap,” Neo breathes beside me.

Still patiently holding Zara’s clutch, he’s pale under his magenta curls. His free hand shoots out to grip Zara’s, anchoring her against what he clearly sees coming.

Zara stands perfectly still, eyes wide with shock. Against her bubblegum lipstick and cobalt eyeliner, her gorgeous Hollywood face is etched with an emotion that, on her, is unfamiliar.

A soul-wrenching emotion that looks hideously like… shame.

Then that Grade A Ferrari bitch glides forward, cool and composed like she’s walking a Paris runway, and poses for the crowd.

Messalina sweeps a royal arm in the bitch’s direction and announces, in a ringing voice that resonates with pride and triumph, “All hail! Tonight I crown her. My long-lost, half-Fae, twice-royal daughter. Cleopatra Regina Aquarius.”

Now Messalina swings to pinpoint Zara with a commanding finger. “I call upon you, Zarina Selene Gemini, to be the first of my subjects to bow down to her in homage. To renounce your claim and worship this worthy Aquarius scion, who was always destined to be the witching world’s next queen.”

Chapter Three

Zara

Oh, hell to the no.

That’s all I can think.

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