Page 165 of Forsaking All Others

“Neither of us could have predicted who would steal our hearts.”

‘Or that it would be the same woman.’

“Agreed,” I nod, my mind furiously racing and reaching for a way to mitigate the damage I’m about to do by linking my name with a Fondi. “Perhaps there’s a way we can all come out winners; it’ll just take some time to think it through. And time is not on my side right now.”

“These Fondi are only human,” Lynx offers.

“Exactly the point,” Falcon sighs. “It’s their blood, their ties to the monarchy, the long-held agreements about how humanity is managed and how we interact…if you’ve taken one of theirs and they want her back things are going to get ugly. Very Ugly. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless perhaps after a year or two, when the media has lost interest in you two, you give her back…”

“Are you suggesting I feed my wife to the lions?”

“C’mon, Jag, you’re French. Your family barely escaped the last time the covenant was almost breached, when the French aristocracy’s excesses could no longer be overlooked. The Fondi brook no fucking around, not even tinkering at the edges of their power.”

“I’m aware of the French Revolution,” I sigh. ‘How could I ever forget that time?’ “I’m aware I’m in deep shit.”

“Then please, brother, marry her if you must. But hand her over.”

“Hand over my wife? A woman I’ll be honour-bound to shield once she carries my name.”

He sighs heavily.

“Yes, honour.”

“And as it happens,” I add as I turn to pour myself a drink, ignoring his intimation that my honour is still not intact. “I like her. She makes me laugh. She’s a desirable woman and in many respects what I need.”

“But you don’t love her,” he says quietly. “Do you?”

‘The whole point of this charade is for you to believe I do.’

“I recall it was my best friend who adamantly held to the belief for centuries that vampires cannot love humans,” I mutter, raising my glass and downing the contents.

“And I believe it was my best friend,” he gives me a knowing look, “who told me that was bullshit and turned out to be right all along.”

I shrug.

“You told me to trust the process. She’s the one I’ve chosen. I’m not going to hand her over to that bunch of inbred pricks. There has to be another way that we can solve this, after all; my hands are clean in every respect other than marrying her.”

“Except you drank from her,” Falcon mutters, “didn’t you? This is the woman whose blood I sent for analysis.”

“Yes. But it could be proven that I had no idea who she was. There will likely be an amicable way around this.”

“Mmmm, on that note,” Wolf pipes up from the sofa he’d been reclining upon, one leg thrown nonchalantly over the side as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “I guess it’s time I handed over your wedding present.”

Without fanfare he tips a head out of a black velvet bag that had been sitting on the floor near his chair. It rolls out like an odd-shaped bowling ball and arrives not far from where Falcon and I stand.

“Oh fuck,” Falcon groans.

“Who?” I sigh, shaking my head, my spine tingling as it only does when I’m in grave danger.

“Well,” Wolf shrugs, giving me a lop-sided grin. “Falcon here,” he raises his glass to our friend, “was too busy to help hunt down the present you requested. So as I told you, I took on the role. Regrettably I couldn’t find the little cunt you asked for, so I got the next best thing.”

“Falcon takes a deep gulp of whisky and turns to face me, his eyes stricken.

“Brother, forgive me, I forgot I asked for his assistance.”