Page 72 of Curse of Darkness
“Elodie.”
His tail flicks.
I have the distinct impression he wants to slink off the bed.
“And then there was—”
“Fine,” he cuts in. “Occasionally I don’t see certain consequences.”
Grimm settles at our feet, a huge furry weight.
The gush of emotion threatens to choke me. He knew what would happen with Malakhai. Once again, he knew. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Grimm settles his chin on his paws and subsides with a sigh. “At least someone appreciates me.”
The door opens again and Thalia strides inside, followed by a half dozen maids. Eris is right behind them, long legs clad in leather and her hand resting on her hip.
“What are you—?”
“There,” Thalia says, directing two of the maids to lay something out on the bed. “Supper on the table. Water for the queen’s bath. And then leave us in privacy.”
A fluttering demi-fey hovers over her shoulder. The second the maid places a platter on the table by the window, it flies down, driving a tiny little spear through a fat grape before it retreats to the windowsill with its bounty. Another flies after it, and they set to squabbling over the grape.
Grimm starts to slip into shadows, his golden eyes locking upon the unsuspecting demi-fey and his tail twitching.
“Don’t you even dare,” Thalia tells him, thwacking him on the butt with a rolled-up newspaper. “The Court of Milk and Honey is under my protection, and I have promised them safe passage within these walls. If you harm a single one of them, then I shall be forced to go to war against you.”
Grimm solidifies, sniffing disdainfully. “You are no warrior. And I am He Who Stalks The Shadows.”
Thalia snaps her fingers, and every single demi-fey in the room falls into formation behind her, tiny spears at the ready. “I am She Who Runs This Bloody Castle. If we go to war, O Mighty Shadow Spawn, then there will be vinegar in the milk, pretty bows to tie around your neck… oh, and baths. Daily. Baths.” A diabolical look sweeps across her expression. “Actually, Cook has a nephew who likes to knit. He creates these lovely little coats for my demi-fey. Would you like a new outfit, O Claws Like Knives? I can get you a matching little hat too, with a pom-pom on the top. And a ruff of frills around the neck of your coat.” Her face lights up. “Pink. Definitely pink. I feel it’s your color—”
“Try it and die.” Grimm growls under his breath.
“Who’s a pretty little kitty,” Thalia coos, scratching under his chin.
Amaya giggles.
With that, Grimm is gone. I see a tail lash beneath the armchair, and wary eyes peer out.
“I think Thalia won the opening rout,” Eris mutters.
I can’t stop a smile as I push out of bed.
And then I feel guilty for letting myself dare, when my husband is still gone.
“Amaya, do you think you could go pick some oils for your mother’s bath?” Thalia asks her sweetly.
Amaya’s gaze shifts between us and then she sighs. “I am nine, Aunt Thalia. I am not a fool. If you want to talk privately, just tell me to go.”
Thalia eyes her for a long time. “I need to say something to your mother, and I think it needs to be private. Adult talk.”
Amaya sighs. “Come on, Grimsby.” She turns toward the wash chambers. “We get to do something really exciting and choose bath oils. Yay.”
“Smart mouth,” Thalia mutters.
“She’s going to eavesdrop anyway,” Eris says.
“No, she’s not,” Thalia replies, then swirls a finger.
