"Yes?"she says. The Pixie's voice is tinny.
"Julietta, I am not to be disturbed."
"Yes, ma'am."
Seemingly satisfied, Yardley presses another button on her watch. Suddenly, a black mist appears over the glass windows. Once the panes are entirely covered, she steeples her fingers and turns back to me. "Now that we have some privacy, my boy, tell me why you're here."
Settling in, I begin my tale the moment after she helped me sort through the trouble I'd caused with the crown prince of the Mer. At the end of my story, Yardley leans back.
"So," she says, tapping her fingers together. "You were sent to kill King Phelix's daughter, but you developed deep feelings for her instead?"
"That's what I said," I reply. Crossing my arms, I lean back in the chair while she continues.
"And now you're being hunted by the Elite because you, the legendary Pirate of Death, one with a slit throat and one drowned, couldn't kill one female."
The last word comes out of Yardley's mouth as a snort as she erupts into raucous laughter. My eyes bulge, and I clutch the arms of the chair as she dissolves into hysterics.
"What is so funny?" I ask through clenched teeth.
"You were kicked out of here the last time for your violent tendencies," she says between pants for air. "The irony of the situation is incredibly hilarious."
"Not. To. Me." I clench my teeth, rubbing a hand over my face as I force myself to take long, steady breaths.
Yardley places a wrinkled hand on her chest and gasps. "Yes, yes. Of course. So, I assume you need me to do the transfer?"
My shoulders loosen as I nod tersely. "Yes."
“Do you have a recipient in mind?”
“I do,” I reply. Pulling my satchel over my head, I drop it on the desk. It lands with athud. "I have everything right here from when Barthalemew left me the ship."
Piercing orange eyes meet mine. Yardley's mouth sets in a firm line. "Are you sure, Erik? Once this is done, it cannot be undone."
"Do it."
An hour later, I calmly walk out of the building without my satchel. My fingers twitch at my sides as I take in the setting sun before I turn into a dark alley.
Now, I'm ready.
26
I Own This Place
HELENA
There isn’t time to hesitate, so I grab the knob and contort my face into an irritated sneer. Two thumps from the roof above assure me that no one is coming down soon.
I was, and am, a snobby royal. I can absolutely play the part of an affluent, disgruntled homeowner. I only pray they don’t ask for identification. My left hand settles on my popped hip while my right leg extends outward and ends at the elegant point of my white stiletto.
My suspicions about the visitors being the police are instantly confirmed when I spy two large, menacing Daemons through the small peephole in the door.
The door swings open with a vicious yank, and I catch it swiftly, just before it hits the wall. The two males take in my haute couture suit and my nasty expression. They glance at each other uneasily.
Inwardly, I scoff. Size really doesn’t dictate ferocity, it seems.
“Ma’am,” one of the Daemons says. He dips his enormous head and studies my face with yellow eyes.
They take my lack of response as confirmed irritation. I mean, I get it. Only someone incredibly sure of their innocence would dare to ignore a uniformed officer.