Page 20 of Royal Ransom

Basil stood, brushing himself off. “The old Blood Rose Castle. I will show you where it’s hidden, but I want a guarantee that I’m coming with you.”

“Why would you want to join our suicide mission?” I asked, frowning at him.

“Because I want to go home. A pardon from the Princess of Winter would grant me that.”

“If I depose Janara, you will have it.”

He grinned. “Excellent. Now, let’s be off, shall we?”

Chapter Twelve

Taliyah

I dreamed of autumn.

Not any particular day, but my impressions of the season—decades of apple cider and hay rides with my family, pumpkin patches, and Halloween candy. First, my own Halloweens, and later Sean and Charlie’s. Taking my boys to Sweeter Haunts, watching their faces light up as they filled their bags with candy corn and bubble gum.

When things finally came into focus, I found the sun struggling to break through the clouds. A cold breeze nipped at my nose, hinting at winter to come. I was sitting cross-legged on a plaid tablecloth, next to a picnic basket.

“That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?” I muttered to myself. If I saw a bear pass by muttering about ‘picnic baskets,’ I’d need professional help.

“I like the classics. Sue me,” Maverick’s voice chimed in nearby, loud and clear. My heart leaped into my throat, stifling a startled yelp. I spun around to find him mirroring me on the opposite side of the blanket.

I pressed a hand to my heart. “Holy shit. You scared me!”

“Sorry,” Mav said. I didn’t buy it. The broad grin undercut his sincerity.

“What are you doing here?”

Because hewashere. I was sure of that. There was an undeniable realness to him that was lacking in my dreams that usually featured Maverick. It felt as if I had been staring at a picture, only to have the genuine article step out of the paper.

“Trying something,” he said, flipping open the lid of the picnic basket. He pulled out a thermos and a pair of styrofoam cups, filling one and wordlessly offering it to me.

The cup was full of cocoa. It wasn’t the Swiss Mix I was usedto pilfering from my parents’ pantry as a kid. This was the real deal, made with real cocoa and sugar. It was Maverick’s memory of hot chocolate, not mine. I sipped it gratefully.

“Are you really here right now?” I asked him. I was ninety-nine percent sure of my assessment, but there was always a chance of a one-percent scenario.

“Yes. I wanted to be with you, if only in spirit.”

Did he know how painful the separation was, no matter how brief? Did he realize how weak it made me feel that his absence affected me this much? I didn’t feel fit to be a police chief, let alone a queen. But I had no choice. The Evil Queen had my brother. I was going to storm the Bastille to get him back.

“Is the ritual working?”

“Yeah, it is. The coven estimates we have about three days before it wears off. It’s not much, but it’s a lot better than trying to maintain a glamour during a pitched battle, don’t you think?”

Something was better than nothing, but it wasn’t nearly enough reassurance to make me feel better about our chances. Even going in as Trojan horses carried an enormous risk. There was a good chance I wouldn’t be coming home. I would have preferred having a supernatural SWAT team at my back, but those were in short supply these days. I couldn’t ask any of the other monsters in the Hollow to defend my claim to the throne. They had families too. The only life I was willing to lay on the line was my own.

I gestured at the scene around us. Mav had set us on a rolling hill. The scent of apples drifted to me on the air. If I peered down far enough, I thought I could make out a gabled rooftop.

“Where is this?”

“The Crescent Circle estate,” he said wistfully. “I was ten. It was the first and last time we celebrated Samhain privately. Hot chocolate near the apple orchard. Mother had pointed out the different species of fae that came to take our offering.”

I winced. Here I was, worried about my family. Maverick hadn’t had one of those until he’d come to the Hollow. At least I had a backlog of pleasant autumn memories.

“How did the talk with the boys go?”

I sipped my cocoa rather than answer. Which was answer enough. He hid a wince and nodded to himself.

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