Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (20 page)

Find me, Kendra.

No. I couldn’t let those attacks continue. Ian’s plan would hinder the Shadow’s ability to create more demons for his army and we’d be one step closer to ending the war.
 

I just had to be patient.

Years of control and discipline kicked into gear and a steel wall slammed down, shutting off the maelstrom of emotion.

I had a mission to accomplish. The sooner I got it done, the sooner this would be over.

By the time I returned to the ballroom, every inch of armor had settled back into place.

“So this is the ball Rhian waxed on about.” The low, familiar voice let out a grunt of satisfaction. “Ours was better.”

How lovely. “I’m surprised you came, Your Majesty.”

It’d been a few weeks since I last saw Ancelin Belicoux. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long enough.

Tristan bore a striking resemblance to his father in the fierce, dark eyes and the cut of his jaw and cheekbones. But whereas Tristan exuded a tightly controlled strength, Ancelin’s broad shoulders and brawny physique gave an impression of brute, unyielding authority.
 

Ancelin wouldn’t bother asking or waiting for permission. He’d simply smash through whatever barrier you threw in front of him then complain the fight wasn’t interesting enough.

I should know. He’d knocked me out.

“I thought it was about time to stop by.” He sipped from a glass of wine and grimaced. “Next time, put someone else in charge of drinks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I craned my neck. “Have you seen Tristan?”

“My son is currently keeping Marquisa Blanchard occupied so she doesn’t come over and ask you personal questions.”
 

He studied me, still and silent for a few seconds too long.

“Something I should know about?“

“Perhaps you and my son need to be a bit more cautious.”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business —“

“On the contrary. If the Governor only plans to be around for another five years, it is very much a concern to the Council and our people.”

I knew that of course, but hearing it from him grated on my nerves.

“It doesn’t affect my work.”

“That doesn’t matter. Your life is no longer your own, Kendra. That’s what it means to lead.”

“My life belongs to me.”

Something that almost looked like sympathy flickered in his dark eyes. “Tristan once said the same thing.”

Enough with the bullshit. “What do you want, Your Majesty?”

Ancelin wouldn’t have come all this way without notifying his son if it weren’t for a specific reason.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Rhian was a great ondine.”

“Thank you.” I tilted my head. “Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

A line developed between his brow. “My son acted as kingdom representative.”

Whatever. “Of course.”

“She died before I could collect a favor from her.”

“And you want me to fulfill it.”

He hadn’t even waited a month after her death.
 

“I awarded your father passage into our kingdom eighteen years ago.” He held my gaze. “I have always remained loyal to the Irisavies, even when it has been difficult to do so.”

A questionable statement, but I let it slide.

“I would like my son to return to his kingdom and assume his rightful place at the throne. As long as you’re with him, he won’t do so.”

I kept my tone level. “He serves his kingdom here—“

“We have a wealth of qualified selkies who could do that,” he scoffed. “Anyone from our Advisory Council would serve admirably on the Council. Tristan does not need to be here.”

“His life is not yours to control.”

Dark brows drew together. “And my family’s affairs have nothing to do with you.”

I grabbed a glass of champagne off a passing server’s tray. “Does Tristan know what you’re asking me?”

A pause. I smugly took a long sip.
 

“I thought you understood that some things must be handled discreetly.” He raised his brow. “Isn’t that what you’re doing in New York?”

Warning bells wailed in my head. It was one thing for Cam to find out from Aub. It was another thing entirely for the Selkie King to know about a classified, borderline legal, mission.

“My men’s loyalties are not to you.” He gave a dismissive gesture at the look on my face. “Of course I know.”

“Are you planning to tell the others?”

Ancelin had promised his kingdom’s aid should I need it. But I didn’t consider him an indisputable ally, especially since this plan centered around a nix.

“I have no use for the Council. Never did.” His eyes hardened. “But my son should be back home in our kingdom.”

There it was. The real offer.

If I didn’t help him bring Tristan back, he’d cause a political shitstorm.

I tried again. “Dax is more than capable —”

“Dax is a good boy. But he’s not a leader.”

“Yet,” I pointed out.
 

Ancelin leaned back on his heels, his intensity pressing against me like a palpable force. The twinkling chandelier lights caught the gray sprinkled in his short, dark hair and the dull shine of his pewter-colored
pedaillon
.

“Think about what I said, Kendra. Our people deserve their prince and my son deserves his inheritance.”

He walked away, his abrupt absence leaving behind an odd emptiness.
 

I made a halfhearted effort to engage in conversation with several guests. It didn’t really matter because no one seemed very interested in speaking to me, either.

Disappointment flooded my veins. Rhian had dominated the ballroom last year, commanding the space with cool authority.

The only place I ever felt like that was on a battlefield, soaked in blood and sweat, with my dagger in hand.

Here, in the luxury and marble expansiveness of the Governing House, I only felt small, as if the weight of everything I’d never known and would never know engulfed me.

My gaze drifted around the room and out of habit I catalogued everyone.
 

Cam was gone. Julian was nowhere to be found. Tristan had also disappeared.

Marquisa LeVeq spoke with the Moreauxs, her eyes bright and calculating. Another ondine, whose red hair distinctly reminded me of Aubrey, chatted with Marquisa Genevieve.

Jeeves listened to a paunchy demillir complain about something. Groups of Redavi gathered along the walls and in corners, their conversations hushed and expressions wary.
 

Last year, elegantly dressed couples had filled the dance floor.

Tonight, the center of the ballroom remained empty.

Unlike a year ago, there were no shattered windows or broken artwork; no bodies or blood sullied the pristine marble floor.
 

But as I took in the tension dividing the room, I couldn’t help thinking it was still a disaster.

ELEVEN

Whistling blades cleaved through the thick silence.

Sweat dripped off my temple and I balanced on the balls of my feet, reveling in the strain of stretching muscles and the slight discomfort that came from riding the edge of adrenaline.

Shoulders, back, and arms worked in perfect harmony. With my dagger in my right hand, and a
kouperet
in my left, I rotated, blades whipping through the air in alternating patterns.
 

Rhian had the private gym in the east wing installed when Jeeves first began working for her. It was the reason he was able to stay in shape, despite his long hours in the Governing House.

Since I couldn’t commute to the Training Center everyday, the well-equipped room had become a much needed sanctuary.
 

Left, right. Circle.
 

I picked up speed.

Ian was meeting Scabbard in a few hours and an agitated ball of anxiety bounced around my insides, spurring me on.

Oliver Moreaux’s terrified face flashed before me.

You’ve chosen being a Governor over being a friend.

I slowly advanced across the mat, tracking the movement of my blades.

Muscles screamed in protest.

Trust them.

But how could I trust others if they didn’t trust me?

I squeezed out another drop of energy and charged forward with a sequence of swift jabs followed by a round house kick.

I twisted, tossed both blades into the air, dropped to one knee and looked up.

Steel spun toward me, dual blade tips glinting with lethal promise.

Everything was about timing. When to attack.

I raised my hands.

When to wait.

Cool ivory and onyx handles slipped into my palms.

When to defend.

The door slammed open.

The
kouperet
slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor.

Irritated, I picked up both weapons and crossed the mat to my duffel bag. “Your timing sucks.”

Julian’s eyes were hard, glittering shards of ice. “This is stupid.”

I wiped my face with a towel. “Working with two blades? I needed the practice.”

“No. What’s stupid is you sitting behind a desk while sending Ian out on a covert op.” He made a sound of disgust. “Ian!”

Just as Ancelin had found out from his men, I assumed a chevalier had informed him about the plan.

Trying to keep a secret in Haverleau was a useless waste of time.

“I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get involved —“

“You know this isn’t about that.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you send me?”

I’d considered it. Julian could’ve used his Virtue to slip in as a nix, just as he had with Holden’s group.

But I’d eliminated the possibility based on what happened the last time we were in New York.

Which brought us full circle to the heart of the matter.

“You don’t trust me,” he said flatly.
 

I wasn’t going to lie. “You’ve been undercover enough. It was bringing you too close to the edge.”

He shook his head. “Ian isn’t qualified for the mission.”

I wondered how Cam would feel knowing he and Julian actually agreed on something.

“Yes, he is. Ian’s a nix used to high risk situations. It was his idea and his plan. He cares deeply about this.”

More than you.

The words remained unspoken but Julian’s face tightened as if I’d said them aloud.

“So is this how it’s going to be from now on? The Governor making security decisions without the Head Chevalier?”

“Thought you didn’t want the position —“

“Do you like doing this?” He straightened and stepped forward, anger sparking off him. “Keeping me in the dark, treating me like an idiot you can move around whenever it suits you?”

“That’s not what —“

“Let me guess. This is another one of your plans? To get me to care enough about the job?”

The echo of Aubrey’s accusations laced through his words.
 

Anger flared, pushing aside the hurt. “Shut up, LeVeq.”

“What’s the matter?” He got into my space. “Don’t like that others can see through you?”

I tossed the towel aside.“Get out of my face —“

He lunged.

I dodged, using the momentum to drive my fist forward.

He whirled, fluidly evading my punch, and smashing his fist against my ribs. I gritted my teeth against the sharp stab of pain.
 

“I told you we should’ve stayed out there looking for him.” Steely arms banded around me. “Now, you’re sitting on your ass like a Council member —”

I hammered a kick against his inner thigh. “Quit.”

My elbow rammed into his solar plexus. “Saying.”

He stumbled back and my fist caught his upper arm. “That.”

He regained his footing and darted out of my reach. The corners of his mouth tilted up. “You’ve improved.”

“Just noticed?” Pain bit into my back. Damn, his punch was solid.
 

His eyes narrowed on my face. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“No,” I lied. “I’m surprised that’s all you got. Getting soft, LeVeq.”

He dropped his arms and stilled.
 

During our training session, this had been one of his favorite tricks. He’d invite my attack then shift behind to drop me with a sweep kick.
 

It wasn’t happening again.
 

I padded around him, hands raised, and kept my distance. His gaze tracked my movements.

Wait.

Another slow rotation.

I could do this all day.

His arm blurred.
 

Fingers wrapped around my wrist and yanked me forward.

My right leg caught his ankles and we tumbled onto the mat.

I straddled him. “Knock it off.”

His eyes gleamed. “You like being on top?”

I swore and raised my knee.

In the span of a heartbeat, he flipped me over.

I strained against him. “Get off me.”

“Make me.”

“I’m about two seconds away from inflicting serious pain on a very sensitive area of your body.” I let him see the truth in my eyes. “Whatever will the girls do when you’re hobbling around Haverleau for the next month?”

He stared at me for a few beats.

Then the bastard threw his head back and laughed. The warm, rich sound vibrated against my skin, familiar and soothing.

He pulled back and shook his head. “You’re too much fun.”

“You’re such an asshole,” I muttered.

“And you are absolutely stunning when you’re pissed off.” He tucked an errant hair behind my ear and stood. “Feel better?”

Not really. “A little.”

I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. “You still should’ve told me.”

Maybe. But things were rarely so clear nowadays.

I exhaled. “Sorry.”

He leaned in. “What was that?”

“Sorry. And if you make me say it again, you won’t be able to walk for two months.”

With a smug smile, he headed for the door. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“I won’t be here.”

“I know.” He glanced back. “Did you think you were going to run the operation without me?”

Of course not.

After he left, I spent another hour futilely trying to exhaust myself. But it didn’t work.