Page 26 of Gemini Queen
“Oh, hell to the no.Thatyou are definitely not, buddy,” I say as firmly as possible, trying to make sense of this entire bizarre encounter.
Now that I’m fully awake myself and not chasing a morning quickie, all the disturbing details from last night come flooding back like a runaway locomotive, its horn blasting an alarm as the cars clatter through my brain. The last thing I recall is standing in that library with Ronin and Lucius, struggling to wrap my head around the murder of my brother and the Aquarius queen and my own unwanted ascent, and feeling my power rise.
Then… nothing.
Until this.
Waking up in an absolutely massive medieval bed under a blue velvet canopy in a completely strange room with stone walls and a crackling fire and arched windows with frosted panes and snow piled on the flagstones. I’m still wearing Lucius’ shirt, though now it’s half unbuttoned thanks to this guy next to me, and I’m also sporting a pair of linen pajama pants.
At least there’s that.
Because I’ve apparently just spent the night with this guy who’s claiming to be my fated mate.
He’s more than claiming, actually, because I do recognize the name. This guy Neo’s supposedly in my natal horoscope, and I’m supposedly in his, according to the crazy claims my dad was spouting the night of my mom’s funeral.
Right before I took off running and didn’t stop till I hit Jakarta.
The Mercurys are old New England money, descended from one of the first New World witching families that sailed over with the Pilgrims on theMayflower. They’re solid citizens in the witching world, celebrity politicians, sort of the Kennedys of the arcane races. Mercury Senior is presidentpro temof the Arcane Senate that makes the laws—that’s an elected role, and he’s so popular he just keeps on winning it—and Mercury Junior here is supposed to follow in his footsteps. The reigning queen is Messalina Aquarius, Cybelle’s mom, who functions as head of the Senate pretty much for life. Which is pretty much a ceremonial role these days, but that totally depends on the queen. For decades now or maybe centuries, the queens have been weak. But the Mercurys are staunch royalists. Their support and their money prop up the whole system.
That’s about as much intel on my fated mate as I let my dad impart. Along with a totally unnecessary reminder that fated mates in the witching world are legally engaged with a bunch of rights and privileges, though the law does require both parties’ consent to formally tie the knot.
That’s as far as my dad got before I slammed my bedroom door in his face.
“You’re not my mate,” I repeat now for good measure.
Because anything this important is worth saying twice.
“I am, though.” My bedmate stretches that big body of his right next to me, claiming impossible amounts of real estate even in this supersized bed, then pulls his slept-in sweater over his head with one hand. “I’m your fated mate, babe, and you’re mine.”
Underneath that Academy sweater, he’s wearing… well, pretty much nothing. And this Neo Mercury is just one seriously cut and buff and chiseled force of manhood.
Even though I have zero intention of letting him anywhere near me (you know, at least until we get this whole fated mate misunderstanding sorted out, and probably not even then) it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate that Chris Evans Captain America body he’s totally rocking, all massive shoulders and six-pack abs and luscious biceps I want to sink my teeth in. He’s got a redhead’s fair skin and a trail of fiery hair that arrows down under the waist of his wrinkled chinos. And, even as my gaze follows the temptation of that happy trail like Gretel following breadcrumbs through the forest, he stretches and yawns again.
Then he lazily unbuttons his pants and starts working on his zipper.
“Hold it right there, buddy,” I almost yelp, clutching the blankets to my chest like an outraged virgin. I’m tempted to jump right out of bed. But despite the fire, it’s almost cold enough to see my breath in this stone vault they’re housing me in, and my pajamas are paper-thin.
I may be a world-class badass, but I’m a wimp when it comes to the cold.
Neo glances up in surprise, red brows hitching above his vivid eyes. His gaze moves over my face just like mine moves over his, slowly taking in the wild tumble of hair around my shoulders and my undoubtedly sleep-creased features. His eyes drop to my mouth and I swipe my tongue across my lips, suddenly thinking about things like night breath and mouthwash that are totally irrelevant to this situation.
Neo’s full mouth curls up in a slow grin. Gently his big hand rises to cup my startled face, thumb tracing softly along my lower lip.
And damn if that careful touch doesn’t light me up inside like New Year’s Eve fireworks.
Disturbed by this, like any reasonable person would be, I cover his hand with mine and ease it away from my face.
His hands are twice the size of mine, palms rough like he does masonry or construction, nails blunt and buffed like a rich kid’s. I cradle his warm hand between my cold ones and hold it in my lap so it doesn’t stray anywhere else it shouldn’t.
“Listen, Neo,” I say carefully, and he gifts me with another slow smile, like just hearing me say his name makes his whole damn morning. “I’m gonna assume either Lucius or Ronin hit me with a sleep spell when the power lit me up last night. And I’m gonna take a wild guess that this is the Academy and therefore I’m on an island in the Med. How am I doing so far?”
“Brilliantly,” he says happily. “And they claimed you didn’t know anything.”
My ignorance is starting to feel like a problem given where I am and that everyone here apparently knows about it, but first I’ve got a score to settle. “Was it Lucius or Ronin that knocked me out?”
“It was Master Aries who bespelled you.” Neo’s fingers insinuate their way between mine and give a squeeze. “Don’t be mad at him, babe. He didn’t want you upset when you got here.”
Which officially means I’m going to murder Lucius Aries. He probably had Ronin carry me in like some medieval damsel in distress in front of the whole damn school, which would have told every soul in this Academy that I’m too weak to protect myself. And there’s already someone on this island who’s strong enough and smart enough to murder royals and get away with it.
