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“Lord Farras is our good friend,” Galeeta chided. “Ademar is his protégé. He has paid many of our debts. You’d do well to remember what our family owes him.”

She remembered all too well. House Fernblade had been fading in wealth and power, until the king’s cousin had bestowed his friendship. At one time there had even been talk of betrothing Lila to the lord, but her father had insisted she’d been too young.

A lucky escape. She set down her tea, her stomach too upset to drink it.

“Are all your questions answered now?” Galeeta asked.

Lila met her gaze, refusing to look away. “Some.”

Galeeta’s eyebrows rose, gently mocking her daughter. “What did I miss?”

Lila pushed to her feet, needing to pace. “Why put yourself and Ademar in the middle of this mess? Why not leave court for a while?”

“I’m afraid there’s not much chance of that.” For the first time, panic leaked into her mother’s voice. “I didn’t want to talk about this until the time was right. Your father urgently needs the king’s help.”

“Father? Why?”

Dread crept over Lila. Something told her this was what Galeeta really wanted to tell her, why she’d plied her with tea and breakfast nibbles. Answering questions had been a means to gain her trust. Even with her own children, Galeeta calculated every move.

Except now, her mother’s face had drained of color. Something was genuinely wrong. Lila rose and knelt by her mother’s chair, and Galeeta gripped her hand.

“Why does Father need the king’s help?” Lila asked. “He’s not the type to make enemies, much less ask for royal favors.”

Her mother’s chin wobbled. “He’s still a player at court, or enough of one to make himself a pawn.”

Lila watched in horror as her mother blinked back tears. “What does that mean?”

For the first time in the conversation, a flush of anger rose in Galeeta’s pale cheeks. “Teegar’s faction is holding him hostage. If we walk away from this fight, we forfeit your father’s life.”

CHAPTER 6

Izetta studied the ceiling, imagining pictures in the rough surface. One bit looked like a bear; another smudge might have been trolls in a lewd embrace. It was a trick she’d learned in more than one prison over the years. Better to distract herself than let her imagination run to darker places.

Her captors had chained her to a steel table in the middle of the cell, flat on her back, with the links of her bonds so heavy not even a vampire could break them. Clearly, she and Rafe had made someone nervous. Why not simply kill them? Not that she was complaining—yet.

She hoped Rafe was alive. She didn’t like many people, but his was a good soul, even if he didn’t understand his own heart. So few mortals had that kind of time.

The heavy lock clanked as it released. Izetta raised her head enough to see the door swing open. A tall, slender female fae stepped in, an impersonal smile on her perfectly-sculpted mouth. Her long, platinum hair was elaborately braided and woven with strands of glittering gems. She was someone important, or at least rich—which was usually the same thing.

“I see you are finally awake,” the fae said, approaching the table but still keeping a respectful distance. “How do you feel?”

“You don’t care, so tell me what you want.” Izetta’s voice came out rough, as if she hadn’t used it in a long time. Maybe she hadn’t. There was no way to tell how long she’d been unconscious beyond the fact that her vampire powers had healed her wounds. Without fresh blood to replenish her strength, that would have taken time.

“I imagine you’re thirsty.” The female held up a plastic bottle, turning the label so Izetta could see the logo. It was just ordinary water, a common brand. “I assume you find water an acceptable beverage?”

“Yeah.”

The female set the bottle next to Izetta’s chained hand and stepped back. Izetta could brush the cool surface with her fingertips but couldn’t quite grasp it. A frustrated noise escaped her throat.

A flicker of hard amusement crossed the fae’s features. “Cooperate, and I’ll unchain your wrist so you can drink.”

Izetta studied her jailor, saying nothing for a long moment. She sensed the female was older than the two fae in the kitchen, though there was a strong resemblance around the eyes. Mind you, it was hard to tell light fae apart. They all looked like shampoo models.

“Who are you?” Izetta said at last. “What do you want?”

“My name is Galeeta,” the female replied. “You met my children, Ademar and Lila.”

Izetta tensed. Mothers were mothers, and she and Rafe had injured her young. The thought must have shown on her face, because the fae’s smile sharpened.

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