Page 11 of Wolf Queen Ruin
“So even if we do get inside, how do we get information from Madame Selene?I’m guessing she doesn’t just chat about priceless artifacts with anyone who asks nicely over cocktails.”
“No,” Damien said.“But according to recent information…”
He pulled out his phone—a ridiculously expensive model—and showed me a photo.The image was of a carved wooden case with silver inlay.Inside lay what appeared to be an ancient map made of some strange, translucent material that seemed to shimmer with an internal light.
“What am I looking at?”I leaned closer, so close that one of Damien’s curls brushed my cheek.
Silky… I wondered what kind of conditioner he used.
“A skin map,” Damien said.“Created from the hide of a creature sensitive to magical energies.When activated, it reveals the location of whatever it was created to find.”
I wrinkled my nose.“That’s both gross and fascinating.So it’s like magical GPS made out of monster skin?”
Damien laughed, an actual, genuine laugh that transformed his whole face.It was a warm, rich sound that seemed to startle him as much as it did me.
“A crude but not entirely inaccurate comparison,” he said, clearing his throat as if embarrassed by his outburst.“These maps were rare even in ancient times, requiring both considerable power and specific materials to create.The Wolf Queen was said to have made several to help locate her most important creations if they were ever lost or stolen.”
I stared at him.“And you think Selene has a skin map that leads to the Shadow Fang?Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“Because until recently, I wasn’t certain the exact skin map we need even existed,” he said, gesturing to the book he’d been reading on the table.“The references there were vague at best.But I’ve heard rumors that Selene acquired a large map collection.”
“So we need to somehow convince Selene to show us this map?Or are you suggesting we steal it?”I asked, already mentally calculating angles and security considerations.
Purely hypothetically, of course.
“I suggest we begin with diplomacy before considering theft,” Damien said with a pointed look, though his eyes held unexpected warmth.“Collectors like Selene usually respond well to interesting trades.If we can identify something she desires…”
“Three days isn’t much time to prepare,” I pointed out, my mind already racing with all we’d need to do.“Especially if we need to establish solid cover identities.”
“Leave that to me,” Damien replied.“I have resources that can expedite such arrangements.”
Of course he did.
“Fine,” I said, making a split-second decision.“We infiltrate Selene’s gala.But you need to be completely transparent with me about what we’re walking into.What kinds of supernatural beings will be there?What kind of security?And most importantly”—I fixed him with a hard stare—“what aren’t you telling me about your interest in the Shadow Fang?”
Damien held my gaze, his blue eyes darkening.“Most high-ranking supernatural factions will be represented—vampire houses, shifter packs, fae courts, witch covens.Security will be a combination of magical wards and trained guards.As for my interest…” He paused, something complex tightening the corners of his mouth.“I told you the truth.Someone important to me is ill.”
“But not the whole truth,” I pressed, stepping closer to him.
A muscle in his jaw twitched as his lips firmed.
I wanted to push further, but something in his expression stopped me.Whatever he was hiding, it was deeply personal—and possibly painful.And right now, I needed his cooperation more than I needed his confession.
“We’ll revisit that later,” I promised, gathering the materials we’d found.“For now, tell me more about how we’re going to convince New Orleans’ supernatural elite that we belong at their fancy party.”
“Actually,” Damien said, “I have a suggestion about that.How do you feel about playing my fiancée?”
My jaw dropped open.“Your what now?”
“My fiancée,” he repeated, a flicker of amusement crossing his face.“A newly engaged couple draws less suspicion than two unrelated individuals.It would give us a plausible reason to stay close throughout the evening and excuse any private conversations.”
“Absolutely not,” I said, heat creeping up my neck that I desperately hoped wasn’t visible.“There has to be another cover that doesn’t involve me pretending to be madly in love with you.”
“I said fiancée, not lovesick adolescent,” he countered, that hint of humor returning to his voice.“We could pose as a business arrangement, a political union between supernatural families.It’s common enough.”
“You’ve thought about this already,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
He shrugged.“I consider multiple scenarios for any operation.It’s simple strategy.”
