Page 7 of Hidden

“What about a security system?” Izetta asked blandly.

“You have a better idea?”

“I dunno,” Izetta countered. “You just set the bar pretty low.”

Rafe ignored her. The prey was inside, and his pack needed this villain to die. It was the one thing his father wanted that Rafe could deliver.

After a long minute of cursing, he pried the sash up until the slider lock cleared its hole. He then pushed the window open with barely a sound.

“Fortune favors the bold.” Rafe crawled inside, his boots landing softly on the tile floor.

Izetta followed. By the ancient rules of magic, vampires needed an invitation to enter a home—but not here. Clearly, this wasn’t a private residence, which made the occupants fair game for the Undead.

They stood together for a long moment, listening for the mansion’s unseen inhabitants. The only sound was the whisper of the forest outside, the only motion the flutter of curtains beside the open window.

The breeze carried more than the scent of grass and trees. Rafe spun, instinctively ducking out of sight. Izetta gave a faint, startled hiss.

“Company,” he murmured. “Outside.”

He rose from his crouched position until he could glimpse two fae warriors in high-collared jackets and tall boots. A uniform, but he didn’t recognize it.

Izetta darted to a position beside the window, peering around the frame so that she could see out without being seen. “Light fae. They belong to the Royal Guard.”

That didn’t mean a lot to Rafe. The fae had more kings and queens than a poker tournament. “What do they want?”

The leader held up a fist, and his companion stopped. Then, with a whisper of steel, they drew heavy broadswords from sheaths at their back.

The vampire made a soft noise that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I don’t think they’re here to borrow the lawnmower.”

The leader pointed his blade toward something Rafe couldn’t see. Glass shattered. A moment later, he heard a door crash open with a squeal of splintering wood.

The tromp of booted feet echoed below. The intruders—military, by the way they marched—were making no effort to be quiet. Lila’s stomach knotted with panic. Ademar glared toward the door and the stairway beyond. White-faced, he visibly gathered his strength.

“He knew this would happen,” he murmured under his breath. “He should have been here by now.”

“Who? Farras?” Lila grabbed her brother’s arm, argument forgotten. “What’s happening?”

It wasn’t hard to jump to conclusions. The lord had asked Ademar to wait there and then failed to show up. He’d been expecting trouble.

As if reading her thoughts, Ademar’s gaze met hers for the barest second before pulling away. “These will be Captain Teegar’s men, maybe Teegar himself. According to Lord Farras, he plots against the king.”

Her breath caught in a hiccup of surprise. Teegar was an officer in the Royal Guard and had a stellar reputation for loyalty. “That’s impossible.”

“Are you sure?” he replied with a humorless smile. “Those aren’t mice downstairs.”

“Why are they here?”

“Lord Farras knows Teegar’s plans. I imagine Teegar is here to kill him. Or me, since I’m available.”

She blinked. “Is that why you’re sitting here in the dark? You’re hiding from the Royal Guard?”

“Not any longer. Evidently, hiding didn’t work.”

“But—”

He waved her words away. “Save your breath until we’ve greeted our guests. Then ask your questions.”

Lila swallowed hard. If the Royal Guard had come with murder in mind, Ademar was in serious trouble. It was no secret he was loyal to Lord Farras—and yet, none of this made sense. Her brother could be difficult, but he wasn’t worth killing. He just wasn’t that important.

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