The Leopard King (11 page)

He hesitated before replying, “It’s the only way I can. When I’m touching you, I don’t dream, or at least, I don’t remember any nightmares.”

Nobody had ever said anything like that to her before. The flutter she’d felt earlier twisted into a shimmering bluefish, and it felt like it was leaping against a line tied directly to her heart. Pru put her hand over his where it rested on her stomach, quietly delighted by the heat of his skin. He answered the touch by kissing her temple,
not
the sex signal, thankfully, because with her dad in the next room crying into his liquor, she wanted to sleep more than fuck.

“Night, Dom.”

“Sweet dreams.”

In the morning, she got up early enough to fix a good breakfast. Her dad hadn’t passed out on the couch last night at least, so maybe her shifting milestone would help him turn the corner on his grief. He came out bleary-eyed when he smelled hot coffee and frying meat. She didn’t have the heart to scold him when he plucked a slice off the platter and nearly swallowed it whole. From the look of him, he hadn’t hunted enough to stay healthy as a lynx.

“When did you decide on Dominic? I thought you were holding out for the other one. That hothead jaguar.” After their failed pairing, her father always pretended he couldn’t remember Slay’s name.

There was no point in telling the story like she had with Joss. Her dad wanted to hear one thing only. “It happened pretty fast, but I’m happy.”

“That’s all I care about.”

Impulsively she hugged him and then wrinkled her nose. “You reek. How long has it been since you washed up?”

“I don’t remember.”

“No breakfast unless you shower.”

Dom sauntered out of the bedroom with wet hair in time to catch that. “Looks like I’m in luck. Okay for me to go ahead?”

“Of course. You only have twenty minutes.”

“
We
,” he corrected. “Unless you plan to leave me hanging today?”

“No, but I may not be able to stay as long. Recon mission,” she reminded him, bracing for him to list the reasons why it was dangerous.

But as Dom tucked into the food, he said, “I’ve been thinking about that, and you have my support. You can’t live in a cage, just to ease my mind.”

Much as I
wish you could.

But if Dom limited Pru because of his own fear, that would make him a shitty excuse for a leader. Not to mention, Dalena had been “safe” at home when she died. So avoiding potential danger wouldn’t guarantee Pru’s safety. What Slay had said gnawed at him, and sometimes he wondered,
What makes you think you can keep her safe? Especially now.
But she was the first person to break through and make him care again—about her, the pride, and himself.

Her reaction was everything he could’ve hoped. She stilled for a second, her eyes brightened, and she threw herself at him, locking on to his neck in a fervent hug. Laughing, he caught her and then wouldn’t let her up when she realized she was sitting on his lap. As Dom tried to get her to feed him—just one bite—her father came out of the bathroom. Deep eyes took in the scene, and then he smiled.

“That takes me back.” Without telling Dom to unhand his daughter, he helped himself to a generous portion of breakfast.

Pru startled him by stuffing bacon in his mouth, then she squirmed away to scarf her own food quickly. She still needed to wash up, and things were pleasantly chaotic as they got ready. As they tussled over who would clean the kitchen, her dad laughed.

“I’ll do it. There are no important meetings on my schedule today.”

“Thanks, Dad.” She kissed his cheek and grabbed Dom’s arm. “Hurry, we only have four minutes now, and we promised not to keep them waiting again.”

It turned out that she’d adjusted the clocks, so when Pru said “only four minutes”, she really meant,
We’ll get there fifteen minutes early.
For the first time, they arrived at the conference room with time to spare. Dom wavered between amusement and irritation, but at seeing her relief, his sense of humor won out.

“Are you this earnest about everything?”

“Pretty much,” she said, smiling up at him.

Somehow he restrained the urge to kiss her. He’d never hear the end of it if Raff caught him going at his mate in the conference room. So Dom contented himself with brushing his knuckles against her cheek. Because his people knew their business, the table had already been set with tea and sweets. He didn’t have a chance to sample any, however, because a messenger burst through the door, breathless, and tried to speak.

“Easy.” He recognized the young guard, an eager puma. “What’s happened?”

“The… the Eldritch party, sir. They’ve arrived early and will be here any time.”

Dom swore. Those witchy assholes wanted to catch the pride flatfooted and force them to start the negotiations in the red, especially in regard to hospitality. But… it could be worse.
If the Golgoth show up too, for instance.

He gave the orders at once. “Convene an honor guard. Whoever’s on duty, get them in formal dress.”

As he said that, his clever mate had her phone out and was already dialing. “Beren? This is Pru. The Eldritch have preempted further discussion. If you could collect Raff and head for the gate—oh, you’re with the wolf already?” A pause. “Excellent. Then summon your men so you don’t lose face during the welcome ceremony.”

The messenger nodded and raced off.

Fortunately, his father had set a precedent for formal attire, even during ally talks, so he had on a decent suit, and Pru looked lovely in a dark blue dress. She smoothed it over her hips and tugged at the bodice with an expression he recognized as sheer nerves. Dom stroked her arm in passing as he headed for the door.

“Come along, clever cat. Your habit of arriving early may have just saved us a great deal of embarrassment.”

“That’s a coincidence,” she mumbled, hurrying after him.

He set a cracking pace to get to the gate by the time the Eldritch party requested entry.

The plaza was full of pride guards in dress black while Beren’s crew stood behind him in matching mahogany, and Raff’s retainers were lined up in heather gray. Despite a few breathing hard here and there, nobody would ever guess how wildly they’d just scrambled.

“What are you waiting for?” he called to the guard on the wall. “Invite our guests in.”

The Eldritch came thirty strong, at least five Noxblades among their number. At their head, a tall, lean man strode through the parted gates garbed in scarlet and silver. His guards were likewise dressed in red so dark, it likely wouldn’t show bloodstains. It was impossible to gauge an Eldritch’s age just by looking, as most of them had hair so fair, it could be ash blond or silver with age. Dom had heard that the Eldritch inspired old legends in humans to the south, tales of long-lived elves and immortal fey folk.

Dom stepped forward. “Welcome, Lord Talfayen. It is our pleasure to greet you.”

The Eldritch lord had sharp features and eyes like twin coals. He raked a contemptuous glance around. “Perhaps it would be best if
we
hosted the conclave next.”

Since they’d showed up early, none of the preparations were in place. There were supposed to be dried herbs on the ground and wreaths hung, woven of hothouse flowers that reflected a desire for peace. If Talfayen wanted proper royal treatment, he should’ve stuck to the timetable. With some effort, he locked his annoyance down.

Pru was right to drag me back. Slay would already have laid this asshole out.

His mate bowed low, both hands pressed to her chest, and Dom caught a flicker of surprise from one of the guards up front.
That must be an Eldritch custom. She’s saving my ass.
Talfayen returned the gesture with one elbow, which meant…hell if he could remember what. He’d studied all this shit endlessly, but then—

Murder.

Exile.

And so much liquor. It would be a miracle if he recalled half of what he needed to know.

“Welcome to our holding,” she went on. “May our shadows bind as one and no disharmony sour our song.”

The Eldritch wore a faint smile. “You know our ways?”

“A little,” she answered.

“Burnt Amber greets you.” As the elder Animari at the gathering, Beren inclined his head instead of bowing. Judging by his expression, he wasn’t inclined to kowtow to a group he called war-holes in private, a contraction of warlock and asshole.

“Likewise, good health and tidings from Pine Ridge.” Raff didn’t hesitate, but the glint of his eyes as he swept low told Dom this was polite bullshit.

An awkward silence crept up—with Talfayen stone-faced and seeming as if he might snub the other two lords.
Not an auspicious beginning.

But Pru stepped into the breach with a smile that looked sincere even to Dom. “Will you accompany us to break bread and thus formally accept our hospitality?”

“Certainly. Are my men welcome?” This appeared to be a test of some sort, and Dom realized he couldn’t let Pru carry this encounter on her own.

He shook off his quiet amazement and offered his own bow. “Of course. Our meat and drink we offer freely.” The words tasted odd and archaic on his tongue, but the Eldritch cleaved to old ways more than any other faction.
Probably something to do with their long lives.

With Pru beside him, Dom led the way to the hall where kitchen staff worked feverishly to lay out a feast that they were woefully unprepared to serve. Possibly he could delay—but his mate was already whispering to the guards, to Raff and Beren.
She’s an effective leader, all big-eyed please and thank-you.
All the men looked like they’d cut out a kidney if she asked for one. Which should please him greatly.

It didn’t. Their mate bond was too fresh and fragile for him to be comfortable with seeing so many other males casting their gaze at her.

Once everyone settled—the most important dignitaries at the head table—each squad of Animari guards ran drills to show their readiness. It wasn’t much of a dinner show, but it was the best they could do on short notice. From across the table, Dom caught Pru’s eye and lifted his chin in thanks. The mood softened slightly as their guests sipped at the good wine he kept flowing during the soldierly display.

“It’s delicious,” Talfayen said, raising his glass to study the ruby liquid.

“We have a small winery. I could give you a tour if you like.” That proved to be a safe offer when the Eldritch lord nodded with apparent interest.

Taking that as a cue, Pru got up and topped everyone’s glasses off, circling the table with a friendly air. As she reached Dom, she bent and whispered from beneath her curtain of hair:

“I smell him. He’s here, the Noxblade who tried to kill us.”

M
uch later, once
the welcome party ended and after the guests were settled, Pru finally got a moment alone with Dom. He waited until they reached the sanctuary of their apartment, but first took the precaution of checking each room. Her father wasn’t around, which was just as well because she didn’t want him involved in anything this dangerous. Pru didn’t speak until her mate signaled the all-clear.

“Well?” she prompted. “He was seated at the next table, the Noxblade with the red eyes. What are we going to do?”

“For now? Nothing. We have no proof. It’s not as if we inflicted an injury we can point to and say, ‘A-ha!’ when it’s revealed.”

“They’ll probably try again. Maybe that’s even why the Eldritch came early.”

“I’ll quietly spread the word among the guards. We should consult with Magda and Slay, too, provided he’s calmed down enough.”

Pru nodded. “I’ll call them.”

“You call Magda. I’ve got Slay.”

With a tilt of her head, she wondered if he could possibly be worried about her talking to her former love. Pru decided that was absurd and dialed up the security chief. “The sooner you get here, the better. We have a situation.”

Magda’s sigh came across loud and clear. “Can’t you tell me now? I’m up to my ass in minutiae since the war-holes showed up early.”

“In person, please. It won’t take long.” She could’ve mentioned Dom or Slay, but it bothered her to think she needed backup for a short conversation.

“Fine. Where are you?”

“My place. See you soon.”

She and Dom both disconnected at the same time. “Slay’s on the way.”

“Magda too.”

The first knock sounded five minutes later. Pru had the kettle on by then, not that she really expected anyone to want tea. She let Magda in with a smile, but the other woman looked too harried to respond. Her frown expanded to include Dom as well.

“You two think I don’t have enough to do?”

“This is important, or you wouldn’t be here,” Dom said. “And when Slay gets here, I’ll clue you both in.”

A minute later, he opened the door for Slay. At first Pru had a hard time looking at him, but she squared her shoulders and resolved not to make things weird. Briskly she set out four cups and poured a splash of tea into all of them. After trading glances with Dom, she decided to start by filling the security chief in on what happened at the retreat.

By the time she finished, Magda was spluttering. “Why wasn’t I informed
immediately
? I need to adjust everything, and now we’ve already got the enemy inside our walls.”

“I should have briefed you sooner. Sorry.” Dom inclined his head, but from where Pru was sitting, it didn’t seem to appease the other woman much.

He took up the narrative from there, explaining how they’d both scented the surviving assassin. Slay finally stopped looking sullen. “He’s actually here? Ballsy.”

“We’re not sure what the Eldritch are planning. I have no intel on whether they’re going to escalate. That attack may have been a solitary effort, and since it didn’t pan out, they may see how it goes with the Golgoth while waiting for another opportunity. Any questions?”

Magda shook her head. “I’ll circulate information among the guards and tighten patrols.”

“I think we should pull some men from the external rotation. Our focus should be here, not making sure there are no trespassers in the wood.” To Pru, Slay’s strategy seemed solid, but Dom reflected for a minute before nodding.