Hidden Game, Book 1 of the Ancient Court Trilogy Page 5

  “Yes. I haven’t had a chance to examine any of the girls today.” He gave me a pointed glance. “Of course your leg is top priority.”

  We resumed walking together—me faking a slight limp—toward the corridor that led to the other wing of the castle where I’d heard he had set up shop. I’d never been downstairs to his clinic or lab. There was no reason. But now I was curious. What kind of research was he doing down there? And what was this “next phase” he’d mentioned? I’d have to ask Papà about it when I saw him.

  We’d nearly reached the stairwell leading to the lower level when Alessia rounded a corner. She must have been out riding. Her long, dark hair was windblown, its natural curls not as tamed as usual, and she wore black riding boots with tan leggings and a dark green jacket. She let out a sound of surprise, bounding toward us.

  “Nicolo! Darling, where have you been? Your father had to tell me of your arrival last night, and you weren’t at breakfast this morning. One would almost think you are hiding from something.”

  I stopped, offering her a polite nod. “Hello Alessia. You’re looking well.”

  She pursed her lips and gave me a chiding expression, sliding her eyes over to the doctor, clearly aware of having a witness to our less-than-close connection. “What is this hello? Come here and offer a proper greeting to your betrothed, whom you have not seen in a month.”

  Instead of waiting for me to come to her, she approached me, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me on the lips. It was surprising to say the least. Though we were to be married shortly, we had no physical relationship whatsoever. We’d never even held hands before, much less kissed. I didn’t push her away, but neither did I return the false display of affection.

  I drew back and looked into her eyes. What are you doing? There’s no need to put on a show for the doctor. He knows the marriage is arranged.

  She laughed brightly, not answering me but turning to the doctor with a big smile and extending her hand. “And how is Herr Doctor today? You are so busy I hardly see you anymore.”

  He took her hand and bowed over it, placing a light kiss on her knuckles before responding. “And it is my loss to be sure. You are stunning today, my lady. You will be a resplendent bride.”

  “Resplendent?” she repeated with a girlish giggle. “Nicolo, you would do well to take charm lessons from the good doctor. His compliment puts yours to shame.”

  Her tone was light, but there was a flash of something in her eyes—anger, or hurt, maybe?

  I felt bad. No, I didn’t have any particular emotional attachment to the girl. She was the daughter of my father’s closest ally, the head of the Dark Council in Italy, and our marriage had been arranged to cement the alliance—something both men were keen on since the rise of the new Dark King in America. But she had been through a lot.

  This was her second betrothal. The first one had ended in humiliation when her intended bond-mate chose a human girl instead, leaving Alessia to face the whispers and speculation of the entire European court. It was no wonder she was a bit insecure.

  I forced a smile. “You are so right. Forgive me. And Dr. Schmitt was right as well. You look lovely.”

  Her eyes searched mine for a beat too long. “Thank you. That is more like it. Have you eaten yet? Come, I’ll sit with you, and we can catch up. You can regale me with tales of your athletic accomplishments and all those wild post-game celebrations I’ve been hearing about.”

  “I assure you, if any of those tales have been about me participating, they were not true. Unfortunately, I cannot join you right now. I did eat earlier. And the doctor and I were on our way to his clinic. He’s going to check out my leg.”

  She glanced down suspiciously. “What is the matter with your leg?”

  “Nothing serious. I turned my knee during last night’s match. I’m sure it’s fine. It’s still sore, though, and I’ve been wanting to see his clinic and lab anyway. After that, I must meet with Papà and go over some business.”

  Alessia’s smile fell, and her eyes narrowed. She dropped all pretense of affection, her tone turning surly. “Well, if you can find the time, I’d like to spend at least a few minutes with you today. We have much to discuss regarding the wedding, and I’m leaving for Paris this afternoon. I have a dress fitting with the designer. Perhaps you could accompany me.”

  “Oh. I don’t think that will be possible. There are several things here that need my attention.” A picture of Macy’s small face, her tiny, curvy body, flashed through my mind. “I’ll need to spend at least a week here before heading back to the city.”

  In truth, I had planned to stay home only a night or two. But now… the thought of leaving the human girl here with Dr. Schmitt and his overly interested gaze had me wary of leaving. And the thought of Macy waiting for me in my suite… well that had me feeling something else. Anticipation. Excitement. Emotions I hadn’t felt in so long it was hard to remember the last time I’d experienced them.

  Not since Mariana.

  I blinked to dislodge her young, beautiful face from my mind. Why was her memory intruding on my thoughts so often lately? Maybe it was being here, where I’d dreamed of her night after night, and cried over her, and wished I’d never met her.

  “Well,” Alessia huffed. “Perhaps I will see you at luncheon then—or at least at our wedding ceremony, if you can find the time for it.” She spun and flounced away in a swirl of airborne curls and clicking boot heels.

  Turning to the doctor, I said. “Okay then. Shall we proceed?”

  He nodded, offering a wry grin. “Of course. But if you want to know what’s good for your health, you’ll save some of your time and attention for the princess. Or a sore knee… will be the least of your sorrows.”

  * * *

  If Dr. Schmitt could have seen me on the way to my suite, my thin cover story about lingering knee pain would have become absolutely transparent.

  Every time I tried to slow my pace, I started thinking of Macy waiting there. What would she say? What would she be wearing… and what would she have on underneath? My pace quickened again.

  I had never fooled around with a fan pod girl. My father, and Alessia’s father, some of the other athletes I knew—really most Elven men of power and position—were quite into their fan pods. Even to the point of defying the new American Dark King’s request to abandon the idea.

  But the novelty had worn off pretty quickly for me after meeting the first batch of them. There was no challenge in seducing a girl who was swayed.

  Actually there was no seduction at all. It was boring. I didn’t even have to use my glamour on them, to figure out what would tempt them. They didn’t need tempting—they were simply mine for the taking, and where was the fun in that?

  That’s why I hadn’t recognized Macy as a fan pod girl at first. She was different. She was… interesting, with her sparkling bright eyes, and compact, curvy form, and sharp little tongue.

  A painful twinge below the waist reminded me I hadn’t fooled around with anyone in a long time. Just the thought of the word “tongue,” and I was very, very aware of the Elven mandate to bond at age eighteen. Thanks to my father’s deal-making and the intricacies of planning a royal wedding, I was a full year past that mark, and it got more and more difficult every day to control my thoughts and urges.

  Hooking up with always-available football groupies satisfied them somewhat—going all the way, so to speak, was forbidden of course. But it was hard to stop once you got started—lately it had been easier just to not get started. I’d become rather chaste, in fact.

  That was how I justified having Macy sent to my quarters. It was expected of me, right? It would no doubt appease my father, who’d been expressing concern over my lack of interest in my bride-to-be, or as far as he could see, in any other girls. No, there was nothing wrong with a harmless chat. Alone in my suite. That same painful-sweet sensation rolled through my abdomen again and stretched lower.

  I nodded to the guards flanking the entry
and pushed the door open, gritting my teeth and ordering my pulse—and my overactive libido—to settle down. You’re not fourteen, Nicolo, for God’s sake.

  Macy, who’d been sitting on the large leather sofa in front of the fireplace, bounded to her feet. I was struck again by the appeal of her tiny, strong figure. It was adorable. Her face, however, was the exact opposite of friendly.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. I was so used to seeing bland, complacent eyes in the faces of the fan pod girls that the fire in Macy’s stopped me in my tracks. God, I loved that. Why was she so different?

  I was about to find out. My nerve endings woke up and began humming as I approached her. I would use my glamour this time to explore that puzzling little head of hers and discover what she was hiding.

  Most people kept their weak spots closely guarded, but she would have no defense against my own secret—my inborn ability to tap into people’s greatest desires. It allowed me to craft a temptation tailor-made for them and push exactly the right buttons. It had never failed with a human and even worked on most people of my own kind.

  “So… here is the daring escapee.” I gave her my most charming grin. “I wondered if you’d even be here when I arrived—or if you’d have made a rope from my bedsheets and be busy climbing down from the window.”

  Not returning my smile or answering my question, Macy blurted, “Where is the doctor?”

  “What?”

  “The doctor. Where is he?”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “Why? Did you want to see him?”

  “No,” Macy practically shouted. “I don’t want him going back to the fan pod quarters and taking Olly.”

  “That’s what I thought. When I saw your face this morning you seemed… who is Olly?”

  “You don’t even know who’s in your fan pod?” Her tone was shaded with accusation.

  “Obviously not. I didn’t know who you were. It’s growing so fast I can’t keep up with it, and I haven’t been home in a while. Besides, I’m busy. I don’t have time to worry about such things.”

  My matter-of-fact tone seemed to incense Macy further. “Well, let me inform you then—Olly is a girl from England. A thirteen year old—who’s been brought here for God knows what reason.”

  I was disturbed by the information, but more so by her incriminating tone of voice. Nothing would make me touch a thirteen-year-old girl, and I certainly hadn’t known there was one in my fan pod.

  Her insinuation—and her insolence—lit a fire under my temper. She was in my fan pod. She was supposed to be here to please me, not hurl accusations.

  “Why are you here?” I asked. “You certainly don’t seem to want to be. Not like the others. They’re not out climbing walls in the middle of the night. They’re happy.”

  She barked a short laugh. “They’re not happy. They’re… hypnotized or something. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s freaking me out, and I…I demand to be let go.”

  Well. That was a first. I hadn’t had a human demand something from me since… well, never. Shocked and feeling that temper flame higher, I barked back an automatic response. “You are in no position to make demands.”

  She blinked in apparent surprise and lowered her voice by a few decibels. “No, I… I guess not.”

  Now I stopped and studied this curious little human, allowing my blood pressure to settle. Why did she even affect my blood pressure? And my pulse, not to mention my…

  I looked her up and down, cataloging the tiny feet, the short, strong legs, the narrow hips. My gaze moved upward, tracking her small curves and landing on her face, which was flushed with emotion. Girls of my own kind were renowned for their beauty—worshipped for it by the unwitting humans. Alessia was beautiful. But I hadn’t felt this level of attraction for anyone since Mariana.

  In fact, it had been years since I’d felt this much… anything. It troubled me, honestly. I’d gotten comfortable with not feeling, with just going through the motions and getting by in life.

  Perhaps I should let her leave. Or at least send her back to the fan pod quarters.

  “What are you going to do with me?” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “Why did you bring me here? To your room?” She lifted her arms to the sides and gestured around her. “That’s where we are, right? Your bedroom? The other girls… well, when someone came to get me to escort me here, some of them said that you… you know…”

  Her face flushed bright pink, and it was so adorable I nearly laughed, the remainder of my bad humor draining away. I controlled the impulse, though, knowing it would only result in more anger. What I didn’t bring her here to do was argue. I had no interest in forcing myself on her either, if that’s what she was thinking.

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Talk.” She gave me a yeah, right look.

  “Yes. Talk. Get to know each other. Are you not having a good time here in my home? Here on my island? Most people love it here.”

  “Yeah, well, most people don’t have Dominique watching their every move and guarding them day and night. And I’m sure the island is lovely, when you’re allowed to leave the building and see it.” She smirked.

  Her words stunned me. “You’re allowed to leave—it’s just that no one wants to.”

  “Really? Pull the other leg and it plays ‘Jingle Bells.’”

  Now I did laugh, totally confused. “What?”

  “It’s an American saying. It means, ‘I don’t believe you.’”

  It occurred to me I didn’t actually know how the fan pod system worked. I’d never been directly involved before, and the whole “enrollment” procedure and rules for membership or whatever were busywork I didn’t have time for.

  Was she right? Were they all here against their will? It didn’t seem possible. And it didn’t really matter. They were humans. Their kind was born to serve our needs, though they weren’t aware of it in this day and age. This one certainly wasn’t.

  “Well, your fellow fan pod members seem to take a different view. They seemed quite happy to see me this morning. Do you really think with all the women I have throwing themselves at me, in every country I visit, that I need to keep girls prisoner in order to get them to spend time with me? Does that make sense to you?”

  “Well… no…” She blinked and sat back down on the sofa. “So then… I’m free to go?”

  I appraised her there, so tiny on the oversized piece of furniture, so appetizing in the t-shirt and short shorts she wore. I wasn’t ready for her to leave yet—not before I’d had a chance to even get to know her.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I knew it,” she snapped.

  “You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t say you couldn’t leave—but you told me yourself you have no passport and no money.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll figure something out.”

  “You seem smarter than that to me. I promise you, there are much worse situations you could find yourself in. I’m not sending you out to wander the countryside with no money and no identification. Let me speak to Dominique and find out if your wallet has been found. If not, you’ll need a new passport, and—”

  “No—don’t.” Macy’s eyes were wide with what appeared to be fear.

  “Don’t you want your things back?”

  “Of course I do, but… that woman scares me. I’m already in trouble. If she knows I’m trying to escape again…”

  “What? What are you afraid of?”

  Her expression settled back into an unwilling glower. “What is the point of even telling you? She works for you. You know what’s going on.”

  I sat beside her on the couch and put my hand on her forearm, which I was shocked to find trembling. “No. I don’t think I do. Macy, please… tell me.”

  “Well.” She hesitated but then finally met my gaze directly and went on. “You saw her last night when she came and took me back to the fan pod quarters.”

  I nodded. “She was
a little rough. I’m planning to speak to her about that.”

  “A little rough?”

  Noticing one of her hands come up to rub her bicep, I reached for the short sleeve of her shirt. Macy reared back.

  “May I see it please?” I used my gentlest, most persuasive tone.

  Her face relaxed, and she nodded. I reached out again slowly and used one fingertip to lift the sleeve. Sure enough, a hand-shaped bruise was clearly imprinted on her skin. I sucked in a sharp breath. Heart rate picking up, I reached for her other sleeve and slid it up. A matching bruise marked her soft skin.

  “She did this to you?” I growled. “She’s never hurt one of my fan pod members before.”

  “How would you know?”

  She was right. I’d said that because it had never occurred to me the fan pod girls might be harmed. It had never occurred to me to wonder much about them at all. How they’d gotten here. Why they stayed.

  Since my earliest childhood, they’d simply been a part of life, those humans inhabiting another wing of the castle. They’d always seemed happy enough to see my father when he’d come around.

  And this past year, since I’d become a celebrity and gotten my own fan pod, I hadn’t spent enough time around them or the house manager assigned to supervise them to really know what was going on. Before today, I’d never concerned myself enough to find out.

  Why did it matter so much to me now? Gazing down into Macy’s liquid sea-green eyes, I was afraid to answer my own question.

  6

  Macy

  The way Nicolo was looking at me, I almost believed he cared. Almost.

  “Do you have other injuries? Come here.” He reached for me again. “Let me check your neck. She grabbed you there, too, didn’t she?”

  “No, I’m fine,” I insisted, scooting away from him. “I’ve healed from much worse than this.”

  As a gymnast since the age of four, I’d had my share of bumps and bruises and sprains. This was nothing. But it was nice of him to be concerned, I guessed. Maybe he didn’t know about what was going on with the fan pod?