Drop Dead Single (Monstrana Paranormal Romance 1)

She looked up at her. “Really? You think I should?”

Cate nodded, feeling sage-like at the moment. “Absolutely. You’re old enough to know your own heart. Don’t let anyone try to control you. You shouldn’t have to ask for permission.”

The woman’s eyes began to clear. She wasn’t even blotchy from the crying. A grin tugged at her perfectly formed mouth. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” Cate hopped off the counter. “My parents weren’t allowed to marry. They ran off when they were seventeen and got hitched on a boat to America. They spent the next thirty-five years in absolute bliss together. If I had true love, I wouldn’t let it go. Not for the world.”

The woman nodded her head solemnly and stared at the mirror. Cate glanced at her own blurry reflection, momentarily confused. She could’ve sworn this lady had no reflection of her own. As if the mirror wasn’t even there. Her gaze darted back and forth several times before she determined that she’d definitely had too much to drink on that flight. She was seeing things. No more vodka.

Ever.

After what felt like ages, the woman turned and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Thank you, my friend. Your words have put my heart back together. I know what I should do.” Looking down at her hand, she tugged off the filigree ring and placed it into Cate’s palm. “For you. It will keep you hidden and safe from danger. Take it, with my undying gratitude.”

Cate blinked at her. She hadn’t expected this. Strangers didn’t just hand out jewelry to random people in the airport bathroom. It was so weird. But then again, this was a foreign country. Maybe that was the custom here. And she certainly didn’t want to offend her first friend in this land. So, she slipped the ring on her right index finger. It fit perfectly.

“Beautiful,” the woman said with a smile. “May we meet again.”

Before she could protest, the woman slipped out of the bathroom. Grabbing her luggage, Cate lunged after her and into the busy airport. But anywhere she looked produced zero results. The stunning woman had vanished, along with any chance for Cate to properly thank her.

Clutching the handle of her suitcase, she rolled it along until she reached the exit. The plan was to find a taxi and make her way to the castle, pronto. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Miranda’s face. It was going to be priceless.

Just as she was about to hail a cab, two gigantic men in black suits approached her from either side. They each had an earpiece and thick black sunglasses. Cate peered up at them, suddenly worried for her safety. She’d heard about Americans kidnapped in foreign countries and then ransomed back to their family. But she didn’t have anyone left to pay something like that. No family, no money.

“We’ve been expecting you,” the big one on the right said in a burly voice. There was something strange about his face. As if his skin were tinted green. Cate tried not to stare. He grabbed her luggage handle and began wheeling it away. “Follow me.”

Cate dug her heels into the ground and stared up at his partner. He resembled more the giants of myth than a human man. She wasn’t going to be that easy to kidnap. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Palace guards,” the second answered with a shrug. “We were sent to bring you to the castle. Your room is being prepared.”

Her mouth opened into a small O shape. Miranda must’ve already received her message. Dang, she was good. But then again that’s why they’d hired her all the way from Nebraska. And thanks to her, she was going to get the royal treatment.

“Lead the way,” Cate said with a pleased smile. “I can’t wait to see the castle.”

Great things were coming her way. She could just feel it.

Chapter Three

VIKTOR WAS SIPPING on a blood bag he’d snatched from the supply bank and elbow deep in paperwork when his grandmother strolled into the office. He didn’t notice her cross the room and peck the cheek of her husband, King Borwin. They shared a massive office lined in antique wooden paneling and walls of stuffed bookshelves. King Borwin’s desk had files and paper strewn everywhere, while Viktor’s side was immaculately neat, down to the placement of his spare pen. They’d worked this way for centuries.

“How are you, my dear?” Queen Anna asked her husband. She set a pot of piping hot tea on the desk before him. “Have you taken any breaks?”

“Yes, yes.” He waved her off like a fly. “We broke for lunch not long ago.”

She placed her hands on her hips with a dismayed look on her face. “That was five hours ago.”

King Borwin grunted a reply and shuffled his papers. He had salt and pepper shaggy hair and a thick beard to match. Dark eyes sat below a prominent forehead and bushy eyebrows. Although hunched in his office chair, he still had the lithe body of an athletic man. He wore his customary outfit of gray pants and a white button up shirt. In all of Viktor’s memory, he could hardly recall his grandfather wearing anything else. It was nice to know some things would never change. Just like the smoky cigar scent in the office air that never seemed to go away.

“You really must learn to rest.” Queen Anna turned to Viktor for help. “Your grandfather needs to pace himself, Viky. Please see that he does so.”

Viktor wore a dark expression as he looked up from his reading. All these figures and statistics had already given him a headache. He didn’t need a scolding from his grandmother to add to the pain. With a curt nod, he returned his attention to the leaflet.

“And anyway, it’s time,” she continued with a small clap of her hands. “Let’s go, gentlemen.”

He didn’t look up. “Go where?”

“To the greeting ceremony, of course.”

“Ceremony?” A frown tugged at his lips.