Episode Ninety-One

ON ONE CONDITION

I wake with a start and look around the unfamiliar room.

For a second I think I must be dreaming, or worse, kidnapped again, and then I see the long line of Bran's body next to me in bed. His eyes are open and he's staring right at me. He's still got speckles of blood on his skin.

I sigh and drop back to the bed. "How long have you been awake?"

The heavy drapes have been pulled closed, but there's a sliver of daylight stealing through a part in the curtains. He should be sleeping.

"A while," he answers.

"Can't sleep?"

"Something like that."

I suppose I can't blame him, considering what we're about to face.

I roll into his side and he tucks me into the crook of his arm. I inhale his scent. The familiarity warms my belly. That heady vampire scent of his, a little coppery with blood but with an edge of something masculine, that leather and amber I love so much.

"I have an idea."

He absently plays with my hair. "Go on."

"Let's shower and get dressed and go to Stanley's for a grilled cheese."

He laughs lightly, the rock of his shoulders jostling me. "Of course you would pick a grilled cheese as your last supper."

I rise up, propping myself on my elbow. "Excuse me. I plan to win this thing. Last supper my ass."

He laughs again. "All right, little mouse. Ask and you shall receive." He climbs from bed and holds out his hand for me. We're both still naked and I ogle his backside as he leads me into the attached bathroom. He really does have the finest ass.

I'm half expecting to find Stanley's closed, what with the impending war. Thankfully, Stanley is nothing if not consistent. The Greasy Spoon is open seven days a week, come rain, hail, snow or war.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!" Judy shouts from behind the counter. "Our favorite customer."

The others seated inside the diner look up at me and frown, clearly annoyed that the server has decided to pick favorites.

I recognize a group of people I went to school with at the big U-shaped booth in back. Their gazes dart between me and Bran. I know we are an unlikely pair. And there's no way in hell anyone I went to school with would have ever considered me up to the standard of the Duvals.

Well look at me now, side by side with Thee Duval , still full of his cum.

I start to slide into the booth where the seat faces the door but Bran gives me a shake of his head.

"I need to watch the front," he tells me.

I roll my eyes. "If someone wanted to ambush us, they could just as easily come through the back door."

"Yes, but the backdoor is metal. I'll hear it clank open. They have twice as much ground to cover to reach you from the back door as they do the front. So, I sit here." He points at the bench seat facing the front. "You sit there."

Well his logic is sound, but I'm not about to tell him that. "Fine."

We slide into the booth. Judy comes over, her order pad tucked into her apron pocket. "Do I even need to ask?" she says to me.

"Nope. Give me the usual."

She nods and then glances at Bran. "And for you?"

"Coffee. Black."

"Coming right up." She disappears behind the counter.

"So," I say.

"So," Bran says.

"What now?"

He spreads one arm over the back of the booth. Freshly showered, the blood scrubbed from his skin, he could easily pass as human, but he would never blend into a crowd. There is something extremely bold about Bran Duval. Like a fast sports car with sharp edges and a roaring engine.

That's what he is here, or anywhere. Unmistakable. I can feel the eyes of my former classmates watching us. And I'm so glad I'm here, on the other side of the booth with Bran instead of across the diner speculating what it's like to have a Duval.

What a lucky girl I am.

Other than the brother that wants to kill me, of course. And the sister possessed by a fae queen. And a bastard fae prince that I'm sorta still betrothed to.

" What now ?" Bran repeats, his gaze casually scanning the diner and the street beyond. "Well, your brother didn't show up at Duval House to gut us, so I think that's a good sign."

"Is it?"

Judy reappears at our table with a black coffee and a Diet Coke for me. "Stanley's making that grilled cheese for ya, sugar. Be just a few more minutes."

"Thanks Judy."

Bran sits forward, lets the steam from the coffee curtain between us. "Have you thought about what happens when you win this war?"

A cold chill runs down my spine. "No, why?"

That's a lie. I have thought about it. Quietly. In the deep, dark recesses of my mind. Even if I didn't want it, even if most of the fae realm wants me dead, I still feel a sense of responsibility to the throne. The fae realm is in chaos, the seasons out of sync. They're in trouble and they need me to help fix it.

But even if everything worked out perfectly in my favor, what does that future look like? And how will Bran fit into it?

Bran levels me with an intense stare. I squirm beneath his gaze.

"You have thought about it," he says, more statement than accusation. "And you and I both know that if you win, you'll have to return to the fae realm, claim your throne, and then guard it every day for the rest of your life."

I swallow hard.

I know he's right.

"If I do that," I start, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach, "will you come with me?"

He opens his mouth to answer but then quickly clamps it shut again as his gaze darts up to the door. He lurches out of the booth. I spin around on the bench, following his alertness and find Arion walking up to the diner.

Oh shit.

I hurry out of the booth wanting to be on my feet. Bran steps in front of me, shielding me from my brother as he pulls the door open, the bell chiming to ring out his entrance.

Stanley is suddenly beside me, a plate in hand, a crispy grilled cheese steaming beside a pile of fresh fries. "Not here," he warns Arion.

Arion, Lord of the Summer Court, looks down at Stanley. "I have no intention of fighting."

"Then what is your intention?" Bran asks.

Arion takes one step to the left so he can look at me over the broad line of Bran's shoulder. He swallows hard, tension showing in the fine lines around his eyes right before he sinks to one knee on the grimy black and white checkered floor of The Greasy Spoon.

He bows his head and I think I might cry at this display of deference. "I've come to pledge my allegiance to you, my sister, heir apparent to the Winter Court."

There's an audible gasp from the crowd that has formed behind us.

My heart is racing in my chest.

Arion looks up, new fire in his eyes. "On one condition."

I lick my lips, take a deep breath. "What is it?"

"When it comes to the Summer Queen, it will be me and my blade that kills her."