Change of Heart (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 3) Read online

  “We’re gwyllgi. We fight. It’s what we do. We wouldn’t have held on to this territory against all comers for this long if we weren’t willing and able to defend it. Anyone who tells you different is a coward.”

  Or they didn’t want to die, which might be the same as having a reason to live.

  Gwyllgi protocol gave me a headache on the best days.

  “Besides, the coven hit us first. They didn’t use you to get to us.” She grew pensive. “They might use us to get to you, though.”

  That was a sobering thought, but one I’d had myself.

  A sentinel called for Lizzy, and she nodded at me before prowling over to them.

  “I’ll take the keys.” I held out my hand to Bishop. “I got this.”

  “You’re going to lift that entire roach on your own?” He snorted. “Not happening.”

  “She’s got backup,” Remy said from behind him, and several more of her stepped out too. “Plenty of it.”

  Bishop’s jaw dropped, but I couldn’t tell if it was shock at her big reveal or horror at the thought of so many Remys running loose in the city. Either way, I patted his shoulder as I studied her. “I thought you weren’t coming out to him.”

  “I’ve been hiding a long time.” The Remy army crossed to me, the lead Remy acting as their collective mouthpiece. “I’m tired of it.” They encircled the roach and began lifting it without her, or our, help. “You need me. I’m here.”

  “That’s that?”

  “That’s that,” she agreed, then grinned at Bishop. “Besides, I sold the expansion pitch to Linus based on my ability to simultaneously run all the stores in the same manner as the original kiosk. It’s the only way to guarantee the sales numbers.”

  That went a long way toward explaining why Linus had entertained her business offer. He was the curious sort, and I bet his analytical mind had devoured the peculiarities of what made Remy’s magic work. He might have agreed just for the excuse to meet with her every so often and examine her to his heart’s content.

  “I haven’t seen one of your kind in…” Bishop shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “You’ve seen more of us than you think.” She laughed at her own joke. “You know, because there are seven of me?”

  “Seven?” His gaze skipped over the gathering, counting. “Your kind divide evenly. Where’s the last?”

  “Midas killed her,” Remy announced before I could salvage the big reveal. “I tried to kill him, but it didn’t stick.” She sounded cheerful as she winked at me. “Currently, I’m biding my time.”

  “You shouldn’t go around telling people you’re open to the idea of murdering a prince.” He glanced at me. “Are you sure she didn’t blow you up? Maybe she thought Midas had slept in.”

  “She’s not that sloppy.” Plus, her murderous tendencies had a specific focus, and I wasn’t it. “She would have detonated the bomb in the lobby when I walked past him.”

  “She’s right.” Remy shrugged. “I would have.”

  “See?” I sighed in her direction. “She’s as innocent as a newborn babe.”

  Bishop shook his head. “Let’s get the roach and go.”

  And get the roach and go, we did.

  Fourteen

  The murmur of low voices dragged Midas up from sleep to find Hadley and Abbott discussing him at the foot of the hospital bed. Her hand curved over Midas’s toes, and she didn’t seem to notice the instinctual urge to touch him when in close proximity. It was a promising sign she was bonding too, and it gave him hope.

  “Can I take him with me?” Her fingers tightened in a possessive hold. “We can put him in a wheelchair and hook his IV bag to that connected pole thing, right?”

  “He can’t be seen leaving the infirmary in a wheelchair,” Abbott soothed. “He’ll have to walk.”

  “I want to punch whoever cooked up these half-baked rules in the face.”

  “As a physician, I agree.” He sighed. “As a gwyllgi…”

  “I can walk,” Midas rasped. “I’m done with the IV anyway.”

  “You’re not the doctor.” Hadley rushed to his side. “You don’t get to make that call.”

  The longer he kept his eyes open, the clearer his vision became until he noticed the change in her.

  “Your hair is shorter.” He touched the soft curls. “It’s nice.”

  “I was due for a trim anyway.” She blew off the reason for the new style. “I like it shorter in summer.”

  “You can take him home with you if he can walk out of here,” Abbott said, ending their argument. “That is the best I can do.”

  “Well?” She studied him. “Can you make it, or are we bunking here today?”

  The easy way she said we, discarding her comfort for his, made it a simple choice.

  “I can walk,” he said again. “I’m dizzy, but I can manage.”

  Hadley made it clear she wasn’t impressed with his struggle to pull on clothes, or his wobbling attempts to navigate the room. She shadowed him, her arms out to catch him if he fell, like he wouldn’t crush her in the process. Then again, she had carried him down more than one flight of stairs. Adrenaline might have given her an edge, but he knew there was more to it.

  Shadow child.

  Wraith or otherwise, the creature she had bonded with fed her strength. That much was clear. The cost of its aid, and the result on her health, worried him, but he could only wait to see if she confided the terms to him.

  The deeper the bond burrowed into him, the harder it became not to share everything of himself with her. He might be repeating his mistake of tricking her into a courtship by not fully informing her of who she kept company with, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to make confessions that might tarnish him in her eyes. Not when she gazed down at him as if he were a good man she was proud to have by her side.

  The walk out of the infirmary wasn’t too bad. Abbott emptied the halls, so Midas was able to keep a hand on the wall to steady himself. The elevator ride could have been just as painless, had the car been empty. The four enforcers already packed inside hesitated when they spotted him, their nostrils flaring in an instinctive hunt for signs of weakness. They wouldn’t have acted on the impulse, not with Hadley there, but they would have filed away his injuries. It was the way their minds worked, the wildness in them, and he respected that.

  “How are you feeling?” Carson, a seasoned enforcer, asked quietly, his attention on Hadley.

  A smile tugged up one corner of Midas’s mouth. “Like I know how a match feels after its been struck.”

  They laughed, but it didn’t reach their eyes. They worried, he knew, but he was at a loss as to how to reassure them. He wasn’t much good with people, and he was too tired to fake it at the moment.

  “Oh, please.” Hadley waded right into the conversation and the elevator. “Are you still whining about your hair?”

  “It was my one great beauty.” He picked up the banter and focused on walking as if his head weren’t swimming with a mixture of drugs and trauma. “Now how am I supposed to attract a mate?”

  “They make wigs out of real hair these days.” She ran her palm over his scalp. “Then again, synthetic might be a better option for you. Something flame retardant, maybe?”

  The guys in the elevator snickered as they shuffled back to make room for them to stand together.

  “Funny.” He took the hint when Hadley stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him. “Very funny.”

  The strength that allowed her to save him helped her prop him up without the others noticing beyond their embrace.

  “Never thought I would see the day I had to beg Midas Kinase to stop it with the PDA,” one of the guys quipped. “You’re making me jealous over here.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” The guy next to him punched him in the shoulder. “Your inflatable girlfriend will kiss it and make it better after your shift.”

  “At least I have an inflatable girlfriend,” he countered, then frowned. “Wait. That’s no
t what I meant.”

  “Give it up, Dawes.” His friend laughed. “Marinate in your shame.”

  The guys ribbed one another about their girlfriends, inflatable or otherwise, all the way to the lobby.

  When the doors slid open, they jostled past with smiles and smack talk that drew attention to them, and to Midas. A few noted his proximity to Hadley and frowned. A few more goggled at his hair. One child cried at the splotchy skin healing in pink and red patches over his body until his mother exited the lobby.

  Still spinning the situation like a pro, Hadley pulled him down to her for a slow kiss that earned them applause and a few good-natured teases.

  Once the doors closed and they were alone, he panted into her mouth. “Ouch.”

  It cost him to admit he was in pain, and the softening of her expression confirmed she knew him well enough to guess that and appreciate it.

  “Just a little farther.” She couldn’t be too obvious about supporting him even now, with the camera recording them and the potential for stops along the way. “And here we go.”

  The entire uppermost floor of the Faraday was the penthouse suite, and Linus had called it home during his tenure as potentate. Now it belonged to Hadley.

  Across from the door, floor-to-ceiling windows stretched tall to offer a prime view of downtown Atlanta. The blackout curtains were remote-controlled, he knew from experience, to accommodate necromancers’ nocturnal sleep schedules. The wall behind them, where the door stood, had been hung with Sheetrock and painted a neutral color between gray and beige. The walls to either side of him showed exposed brick with artfully applied plaster patches that softened the overall industrial vibe. The floors were polished concrete that reflected the overhead lights.

  To the right, a narrow staircase with glass panels in place of rails had been built along one wall and led up to an open loft bedroom. To maximize space, the staircase had been hollowed out and transformed into a series of bookshelves that had once overflowed with Linus’s personal library. Beneath that was a closed door, and to the left was the bathroom and kitchen.

  “The bedroom is in the loft?” Midas’s joints protested the idea of climbing the ladder.

  “The interior designer had all kinds of weird ideas. Apparently, that was one of them.” She led him straight to the office door. “This is the original master suite.” She shoved open the door. “Linus used it as an art studio. There’s only the one bathroom, and it’s off the main space. No en suite.”

  “One bathroom in this entire place?”

  “Nuts, right?” She shook her head. “What was that woman thinking?”

  “That it would only have to suit Linus?”

  “Forever?”

  “He didn’t have a lot of prospects until recently.”

  “He had his pick of the litter. He just didn’t want any of them.”

  Once she stepped aside, he could see the interior better. “That is a big bed.”

  “Looks like Lisbeth opted for a king size after all.” She wrapped her arms across her middle. “I hope you don’t mind. Your toes won’t hang off now, and you’ll actually be able to turn over. With this much space, we might not even stick together anymore.”

  “I loved that futon.”

  “Liar.” She chuckled. “You slept with one cheek flapping in the breeze.”

  “But I slept with you.” He took her hand. “That made up for it.”

  “Sweet talker.” She tugged down the sheets on his usual side. “Climb in.”

  He did as he was told, grateful when he sank onto the cool sheets and soft mattress.

  “Are you thirsty?” She covered him up to his waist. “Hungry?”

  “All I need is you.” He reached for her. “Come to bed.”

  A happy sound escaped her, and she launched onto the mattress. Rather than bouncing, she stuck fast in the dense memory foam and frowned as she sank in. He barely felt her wiggling free from his side of the bed.

  “That was more fun in my head.” She inched closer to him then settled in. “It feels so weird to be here.”

  “In Linus’s old suite?”

  “It’s like I’m sleeping in my parents’ room while they’re away. Like Linus might come home early and find me with a boy in my bed.” She stared around the room. “I also feel like there are eyeballs in the walls, like Grier is watching me.”

  “He did have an abnormal amount of Grier-based art in here…”

  “Right?” Her breath huffed across his shoulder. “The man is obsessed.”

  “He’s in love.”

  Hadley made a thoughtful sound. “Is there a difference?”

  That she had to ask meant she hadn’t experienced it yet, and he rubbed a dull ache over his heart.

  “I’m not sure,” he confessed softly. “Maybe.”

  “Stop that.” She caught his hand and lowered it to his side. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “You handled the situation in the elevator like a pro.” He refused to let her go, so she laced their fingers. “I was impressed.”

  “I’m trying to walk the line between what’s acceptable to the pack versus what’s acceptable to me.”

  “Keep that up, and they might think you’re serious about me.”

  “I can’t remember being more terrified in my life than when you dropped in the hall.” Her expression grew haunted. “Trust me.” She shivered. “That’s saying something.”

  The sensation of fur brushed along the underside of his skin as his feral half relaxed again, even as its curiosity prickled. “You owe me a secret.”

  “I thought about scooping your hair out of the trash and putting it in a plastic bag.”

  Midas cranked his head toward her. “Are you serious?”

  “Can you imagine Ford’s face if he opened a letter, and there it was?” She mimed wiping tears from her eyes. “What about you?”

  “I want to know more about you.”

  The laughter dried in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “You might not like what you find out.”

  “Please.” He tightened his hold. “Don’t pull away from me.”

  “I didn’t mean to, I just…have to think about this.” Her gaze went distant. “I can’t give you an answer tonight.”

  “I don’t need one tonight, or tomorrow, or next year.” He pinched her chin and angled her head toward him. “I had to say it.” He scented her fear, regret, grief. “You can say no, and I’ll still be right here. You can say yes, in five years or ten, and I’ll still be right here.”

  “You can’t promise that.” Her eyes glittered. “You don’t know me well enough.”

  “You saved my life. A couple of times. You’re smart, brave, and dedicated.” He exhaled. “Whatever you tell me won’t change any of that, and I don’t need a preview of coming attractions to make that vow.”

  “Movie joke,” she teased. “I like it.”

  “I thought you might.” He kissed her knuckles. “I meant to tell you Dani sent me a text reminding you to come to the gym with me first of next month.”

  “She’s got a phone?”

  “Her grandparents pay the bill.” He kept in touch with her and reported to them weekly. “She could go live with them, but they’re out of state, and she won’t leave her mom. They showed up out of the blue one day with sentinels to force her hand, but she disappeared for a month. They haven’t tried it again.”

  “Poor kid.” Her fingers slid from his. “Tell her I’ll be there.” She shifted onto her back. “For my safety, and the safety of everyone else in attendance, I think I’m going to start her out with pool noodles.”

  “Sword Fighting 101 with Hadley Whitaker,” he mused. “BYOPN.”

  “Evildoers tremble with fear.” She turned back toward him, scooched a little closer. “I’ll think about it.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she meant. He knew she was giving him his answer.

  Smile tugging on his lips, he let his eyes close and fell into a healing sleep.

  F
ifteen

  Reece texted me while I was attempting to figure out how to work Linus’s fancy espresso machine. It was the only countertop appliance left, proving how well Bishop knew me, and it was smarter than me. I could tell by the tone it used every time I got the button sequence wrong.

  “I will end you.” I slapped the top with my open palm. “Give me my coffee.”

  “That model is worth a few grand.” Midas padded into the kitchen, skin light pink in spots but steady on his feet. “You can always sell it and use the cash to buy a machine like the one you had. Or you could use it to pay one of the twins to bring you coffee every morning from the shop around the corner.”

  “I thought they only did laundry.”

  Simply known as The Twins, sons of one of the pack enforcers, they had absconded with the rolling laundry cart Bishop acquired for us to smuggle Bonnie Diaz, in gwyllgi form, into the Faraday. They used it to launch their own laundry service for single, busy, or just plain lazy gwyllgi in the building.

  I wasn’t gwyllgi, but I was plain lazy enough to use them when I got tired of scrubbing out the stains that came with the job and wanted to dump that pleasure into someone else’s lap for a change.

  “They’ve expanded to delivering coffee and pastries.”

  “I’m impressed, and also hungry.”

  Another text reminded me I had been about to read Reece’s update when the lack of caffeine sent my brain into meltdown over the absence of café mocha in this joint.

  “Whoa.” I leaned a hip against the counter. “Reece says Doughty has synthesized an antidote.”

  “Good news then.” A frown pinched his forehead. “That happened fast.”

  “Doughty is very good at what he does, and with magic to speed things up, he delivers results fast.” That’s why he charged a small fortune for consultations, and this went far beyond that. “Abbott elected to stay put, thanks to recent events, but Reece says he’s driving the antidote and their notes to Savannah to consult with Linus and Grier before administering it to a volunteer patient.” I kept reading. “Doughty referenced the formula for creating Atrax robustus antivenom, and it appears to be effective in simulations.” I Googled that real quick. “That would be the Sydney funnel-web spider.”