Heartless (Immortal Enemies 1)

He hadn’t noticed her beneath the leaves?

“Lulu, I know you’re nearby. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I won’t let Kaysar win again. He will pay, I swear it. Where are you? Have you remembered me yet? I can’t flitter you to safety if I can’t touch you.”

A new image flashed. The Viking, poised above Lulundria, his features strained but blissful as his baby blues peered at her. That look...what was it? Love? Adoration, maybe. It was the kind of look Cookie had never received. An expression she’d yearned to see her entire life. She just hadn’t known it until now.

Her mother and father had usually only demonstrated disinterest. Boyfriends had mostly conveyed horniness. Pearl Jean and Sugars had come close to adoration, but the pair had their own defenses to overcome, and Cookie had refused to push.

How could the prince look at Lulundria like that, then kill her? He’s worse than I realized. As bad as the centaurs. How many other innocent, defenseless women had the Viking harmed in his lifetime? How many would he harm in the future, if someone didn’t stop him?

If only Cookie could command her body with a remote control right now. His mutilated remains would be splayed at her feet already.

“Lulu, please,” he whisper-yelled, growing desperate. “You’re injured. The thought of your pain... You need my help, and I need to help you. Sweetheart, I know what happened to your heart. The pixies told me. Please, don’t worry. We can navigate this together.”

The pixies—Those wretched gossips!

The burst of temper reminded her of one in particular, and she scowled. Give her five minutes alone in a room with Thumbelina, and Cookie would be picking pink pixie out of her teeth.

“I might be a stranger to you right now, but I’m a stranger willing to die to protect you. Lulundria? Please.” The Viking spun this way and that. “Kaysar is fast on my heels. If he discovers you—”

“Too late,” a familiar voice announced. “He’s discovered you already.”

Kaysar. Her knees wobbled. He’d come for her, after all.

“When will you die?” the Viking snarled.

Her dark knight stepped into her field of vision and grinned. “Come now, Prince Jareth. Is that any way to greet a treasured foe?”

Sweet goodness. He grimed up good. Gaze voracious, she drank him in. Tousled dark hair fit the gleam in his eyes. Controlled aggression flushed his skin, his muscles straining. His clothes were dirty and torn in numerous places, his boots scuffed.

“I won’t let you near her a second time.” The golden-haired brute braced for battle. He and the king were close in height and muscle mass: size Hulk. The demon versus the demon, both experienced killers. But only one of them made her go liquid.

“How about a third?” Kaysar exuded more of that disturbing patience, a jot of amusement and a dash of satisfaction, each liberally coated in malice. “My Eye is better than yours. I had the princess’s location long before you did.”

Whatever damage the prince had inflicted earlier had healed, the king ripe for his next battle. She almost whispered his name to let him know she waited nearby, but prudence kept her quiet.

“Go on,” Viking taunted him. “Strike at me.”

Kaysar arched a brow, amused. “You truly think you can win against me?”

“I did before.”

“You?” Kaysar scoffed, a casual action that belied the bombs of fury exploding in his irises. “There you go, lying again. A pink pixie sliced my Achilles tendons,” he explained, so patient he was terrifying. “The pink pixie won. At least temporarily. I believe I still have bits of her on my boots.”

Cookie’s pulse fluttered. He’d taken care of Thumbelina? Hat tip. Next round’s on me, majesty.

“You kill and kill and kill,” the other man snapped, his daggers glinting in the sunlight. “How are you any better than the Frostlines you hate?” Dust motes swirled around him, a gentle contrast to the tension that fizzed the air. “Why can’t we end this war between us, once and for all?”

“Tsk-tsk. If you didn’t want me addicted to your misery, Jareth, you shouldn’t have made it taste so good.”

The Viking lunged at him. Kaysar winked and vanished before contact.

Cookie silenced a shout of denial as she pressed against the front of her leafy cocoon, a visceral need to grab hold of the king choking her. He didn’t know she was here. He didn’t know he’d left her behind, that she—

Amazing heat flamed from her nape to her ankles. She attempted to turn, but there was little room. Less than before. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, a hand tipped by razor-sharp claws flattening on her belly, the fingers spread wide. Another hand cupped her throat, cold metal resting on her rushing artery.

Cookie’s heart raced a thousand times faster than before, frissons of awareness pinging her nerve endings. Kaysar had known she was here. He’d come to her. She wasn’t alone anymore. Breath left her as she sagged against him, relieved.