Page 122 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
“It makes the most sense, logistically speaking,” he began, and Argent made a sound. It was not a friendly sound; it was an angry faerie sound. If you’ve never heard a fae prince growl, I recommend just skipping past that bucket list item. It brings chills over the skin that pierce bone-deep, like needles burrowing into flesh. It makes everything hurt.
“The only person who is going into Faerie is me.” Argent paused here as I finally turned to look at him, my mouth agape. This is what he’d been planning all along? No goddamn way. He let his gaze swing over to Monster. “And him.” Then to Hex. “And also, now that he has a useful servant, he may come as well. Besides, if he dies, I won’t shed many tears.”
“Um, thanks? I guess I’ll just go about being your soulmate and having a kid with your wife on my own.” Hex rolled his eyes and Spectre tsked his tongue. Connard chuckled, alternating licking his crotch and enjoying the show. Hex’s humiliation was comedy gold to the stubborn, little cat.
“Argent’s right, Grace.” Spec sighed, and I gaped at him. Um, guess he didn’t have my back this time around? “You’re pregnant; you’re carrying the Witch Queen. You’re even more of a target than you were before. And let’s be honest: stealing a faerie queen’s son is sort of a big thing. Niamh”—the name was pronounced neeve; it’s fae, just accept it—“won’t exactly have forgotten your and Caine’s contribution.”
“If Argent goes there without me, she’ll steal him right back,” I argued, but the fae prince was already shaking his head.
“No.” Argent sighed and brushed his glamoured hair back from his face. I knew what it’d cost him to cut his real hair off like that; years of stored magic gone in an instant. We’d all played a lot of our tricks down in Hael. We needed time to recuperate, and we weren’t exactly getting it, now were we? “Since our reserves are still low, Monster will perform a binding spell.” He lifted his head back up to stare at the demon prince with narrowed mint green eyes. “Isn’t that right, Grand Prince?”
“Moi?” Monster asked, touching fingers to his bare chest and pretending to think about it. “Seeing as it serves my own interests as well, I’ll do it.”
“Are you still the Grand Prince then?” Hex queried with a sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed and ignoring Caine as he growled at him. “Or is that my title now, too?”
“Grand Prince means firstborn. I was the Grand Prince and the Crown Prince. Now I am but one of those things. You have a lot to learn, little brother.” Monster sighed and reached up, pushing shock-white hair back like he was in an underwear ad or something. I pretended that it wasn’t attractive at all. Nope. Didn’t care. Not in the least. “Well, then, prepare yourself. We’ll leave in the morning.”
Monster nodded at Schatten before allowing his gaze to sweep over me. Our eyes met, and I ignored the spark I always felt when we looked at one another. He took off, and I shivered all over, wrapping my arms around myself.
“You, get back underneath my bed and stay there until I call you,” Hex grumbled, but Schatten was already shaking his head. “What’s the problem now?”
“I need to know where you’re sleeping first, Master.” He smiled again, flashing those bright white shark teeth at us.
“On the couch,” Hex said quickly, before anyone else had a chance to butt in. I couldn’t decide if it was because he still wasn’t ready to try this group thing or because he was afraid of rejection. Maybe a bit of both? “I still can’t fucking believe I have to deal with this shit. I’m eight years old all over again.”
“Did you ever stop being eight?” Spectre teased, but he said it with a smile, and Hex just grinned back at him as he passed by. He stopped briefly in the doorway to glance back at me, and I moved forward, pausing in front of him to offer up a small kiss on his cheek.
“Goodnight, Hex Sorciere,” I said as Schatten slunk past us, paper thin in his shadow form, and curled around a lamp beside the sofa bed.
Hex’s mouth twitched and he reached up to cover his smile before slipping out and leaving Spec to shut the door. I heard him arguing with both Connard and the boogeyman almost immediately. No surprise there.
I turned back to Argent, my mouth twisted into a deep frown.
He was staring back at me in defiance, ready to argue.
“I don’t like this idea, Argent.”
“I’m not letting you into Faerie if you beg, plead, and offer to suck me off every day for a decade. Grace, if you cross the Veil, you won’t come back in one piece. I’m not bringing my pregnant wife home in a death shroud.” He fluffed his pillows like the diva he was, cast me another serious look and laid back down to sleep.
