Page 32 of Cherish

Which is why I clap my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Listen, I’m sorry Jikan loves to freeze people, but the good news is that Heather and I know how to get into the Shadow Realm now. The entrance is at the Witch Court.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and glance at the time, not surprised to see it’s past one. “Let’s all head to our rooms and get some rest, then meet back here at nine and discuss strategy.”

“But we still don’t have anything to trade the Shadow Queen for Mekhi’s antidote,” Eden worries.

“I know, but I’m working on that.” I bump her shoulder in reassurance. “For now, let’s get some rest. We’ll all think more clearly in the morning.”

Everyone grumbles but agrees, and we shuffle off in the direction of the guest suites. Eden offers to show Heather to her room as I tug on Hudson’s elbow, urging him to hang back with me.

“Hey,” I breathe, slipping my arms around his waist and squeezing hard.

He responds by pulling me tight against his chest and murmuring, “Hey, back,” in my ear.

He smells good—like warm amber and spices—and I want nothing more than to rest my head against him and stay right here in his arms, forever. Eventually, though, responsibility rears its ugly head and I have to step back.

The space between us sends an instant chill along my skin that I struggle to ignore as I ask, “What’s going on?” I nod in the direction of his phone, which he’s still got gripped in one hand.

He shoves the device into his pocket and offers a half smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

The way he says itdoesworry me a little, and I start to tell him that there are never things for me and him to worry about separately—that we’re in this together, always—but he rushes on. “Besides, don’t you need to be figuring out how to charm a certain former vampire queen into helping us bribe the one woman she might actually hate more than her sister?”

I sigh because, in this instance, he’s right, even though I wish he wasn’t. “Yeah, that.”

Still, I hate that he’s keeping a secret from me. Because I feel the distance of it between us, I take his large hand in mine. He curls his fingers around mine and squeezes, and I let the rush of electricity chase away the chill.

“It’s funny. I never think of the Bloodletter as the vampire queen,” I say, making air quotes around the title, “and yet it’s kind of right there in her name.”

Hudson gently guides a few of my curls off my forehead and behind my ear. “She’s the OG.” This time, his smile reaches his eyes. “Like her granddaughter.”

I roll my eyes at his silliness. “I’m definitely not the original gargoyle queen.”

“Aren’t you?” he asks, the question so simple. “The Bloodletter was the gargoyle queen for a time, but by marriage only. And we know how these royals feel about their bloodlines.”

I bite my lip, unsure how I feel about being the very first gargoyle queen who is actually a gargoyle. Then I give him a pointed look. “You’re just trying to distract me from asking about your phone. We will be coming back to this, Hudson.” Proclamation delivered, I run a hand through my hair. “But you’re right. I need to figure out a way to convince my very stubborn grandmother to help us—if she can.”

“She can,” Hudson says. “I’ve never seenanyonedrag a story out as long as Jikan did—and I lived with Cyrus.”

“You noticed he was stalling, too, eh?” I ask, but it’s rhetorical. Hudson notices everything.

“I’m just unsure if it’s because there’s not more to the story or because he didn’t want to be the one to tell it,” he says, then releases my hand to squeeze both my shoulders. “I need to go find my brother, make sure he’s not still upset about the pigeon. Do you want to go deal withGrandmanow or in the morning?”

“Now,” I say firmly, earning a quick kiss. I love that he gave me the option to leave a bill in the drawer, as I have a bad habit of doing. But Mekhi’s life hangs in the balance.

I don’t have a choice. I’m going to have to face the Bloodletter, whether she’s ready for the confrontation or not.

19

Hate the Game,

Not the God

I make it to my grandparents’ suite of rooms in a matter of minutes and knock softly on the huge double doors. Not because I hope she doesn’t answer—but sheisa vampire, as I was just reminded, so it’s best not to sneak up on her.

The door swings open, and the Bloodletter is on the other side. She’s still dressed in her red caftan, but she’s exchanged the red head wrap holding her hair on the top of her head for a long gold one, her locs tumbling past her narrow shoulders now.

“It took you long enough,” she says with an imperiously raised eyebrow. “Probably making out with that mate of yours instead of tending to business.”

I raise an eyebrow right back at her. “Jealous much?”

She lifts her chin, but I can hear Alistair chuckling in the background. He walks up behind her and grips her waist, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “Leave her be, dear. We used to be young and in love, too.”

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