Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Forty

Claudio wasn't bested often. He was an old King. Monarchy meant power. Age meant strength. He was rich in both. To live for such a long time in such an admirable position, it was safe to assume he had brains about him too, even if he was a little impulsive. It was by that reasoning that he declared himself hard to trick.

Naturally, if someone were to succeed in doing so, it would be Evette. She'd done it once and now she'd done it again.

It was what had won her his friendship in the first place. Sixty years ago, she'd been his prisoner when she pulled a similar stunt. She'd been used as entertainment- of sorts. With most of his guests being enemies of the witches, they'd all taken some enjoyment seeing a witch in chains. They'd hurl insults at her left, right and centre. She'd had no choice but to stand up tall and take them. In the end, he'd forgotten that chains could backfire when wrapped around one's neck.

What was it she'd told him?

You never see a witch coming until she's already fooled you.

Now, he'd fallen victim to her wits again. He should've asked her what the blood was for before giving it—but he'd been eager. Hell. He should've known. The witch was as thick as thieves with the blood Queen. If he'd taken a moment to consider, he'd have made that connection. The information had been important. Rationality had come second.

Unfortunately, Claudio valued his old friend, so he wouldn't punish her for it. She'd be a powerful ally when she got back into the gist of things. Especially since she'd be a Queen this time around. With the wolves and Inferno demons acting as long-term allies, keeping them so would be a good place to start. Only he couldn't really let her get away with it either, lest he start a war with the werewolf faction. So, he only really had one choice.

She'd backed him into a corner, asking for his word. Everyone that was anyone knew a word wasn't something to be broken. How else could anyone believe you?

His pal Lorcan was facing the consequences of that right now.

It was this same pal Lorcan he sought out. Evette had warned him about thinking things through. He should've returned the advice. She'd told him to get her out of here. She hadn't said anything about keeping quiet about it.

So, by that reasoning, the best way for both sides to win was by doing what both sides wanted. Evette wanted him to get her out? Done. Lorcan would want to know if she was trying something. For her safety and that other boring, unnecessary stuff. Also done.

Sometimes, it paid off to be a lucky bastard.

He didn't bother knocking on the door to Lorcan's office. He scented the royals behind it, as well as the scent of alcohol. Lorcan sat behind his desk, swirling the bourbon around in his glass.

When he saw Claudio, he pulled a face and looked away.

What was it he'd said?

Something about the witch wearing his clothes and sleeping in his bed.

Typical witch.

"This looks like quite the party," the demon said, making himself comfortable beside the Prince. "What's the occasion?"

"She hates me," Lorcan answered absently. "I've waited a thousand years for her, and she hates me. She hates me and it's all my fucking fault."

"That's the problem with witches," Chronos said. "They're evil little creatures."

"Evie's not evil," the King muttered, eyes on his glass. "She's a pain in my fucking neck, but she's not evil. The witch is perfect."

Chronos was shaking his head in disagreement.