Salvatore gritted his teeth, wanting to deny that any king would be willing to put his own ambitions ahead of the good of his people, but the lies wouldn’t pass his lips.
Magic couldn’t force the throne to accept a Were as king, but a corrupt Were could certainly use it to clear the field of contenders.
“It’s possible that Mackenzie used black magic to dispose of the true heirs ahead of him.”
“Wait.” Her eyes widened, as she was struck by a sudden thought. “If he sold his soul to the devil, why wasn’t he offered the Lazarus treatment that Briggs got?”
Salvatore shrugged. “Maybe Briggs made a pact with the same devil to make certain Mackenzie couldn’t rise again.”
“Honor among thieves, and all that?”
“Briggs is desperate for the throne.”
Harley shuddered, wrapping her arms around her waist. Salvatore didn’t blame her. Briggs was shudder-worthy.
“So how does Caine fit into all this?”
Salvatore felt another pang of self-disgust. He’d been following Brigg’s false trails for years. Like a particularly stupid hound hunting the chickens and allowing the fox to escape his notice.
“A distraction,” he gritted.
She snorted. “He wasn’t much of a distraction considering he spent most of his time cowering in his various lairs.”
“Actually, you and your sisters were the true distractions,” he corrected. “Briggs knew that I would follow your trail anywhere in the world, and that I wouldn’t rest until I’d found you.” He scanned her beautiful face, his heart whispering it was worth every sacrifice to have at last discovered his mate, while his sense of duty rebelled at having endangered his people. “By dividing the four of you into different locations and constantly keeping on the move, he did a bang-up job of making sure I wasted my time chasing my own tail.”
“Distract you from what?” she demanded.
His lips twisted as Harley once again pounced on the most significant point.
He would be a fool to ever try to deceive this woman.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“What do you suspect?”
“I think I was lured from Italy to America for a very specific purpose.” He lifted a hand as her lips parted with the inevitable question. “And before you ask, I don’t have a clue what the purpose might be.”
“Inconvenient.”
His humorless laugh echoed through the room at her stunning understatement.
“A little more than inconvenient.” He shook his head, resuming his impatient pacing. Tonight he felt every one of his numerous years. “Cristo, for all I know, I’m completely wrong about everything. In the past I’ve blamed the troubles of the Weres on the gods, on the changing societies, and even on the vampires. Perhaps I’m seeking another evil force to accuse so I don’t have to admit that my people are destined for extinction.”
Silence filled the room, the distant din of Santiago’s unruly guests thankfully muffled by the heavy door.
At last Salvatore halted his pacing. He could sense Harley standing just behind him. She hadn’t tried to slip away while he was distracted. And so far she hadn’t stuck anything in the middle of his back.
Which meant she was thinking.
A dangerous activity.
Turning, he met her guarded gaze.
“Harley?”
“If there’s even a possibility you might be right, then shouldn’t you be returning to Italy?”
He was caught off guard by her abrupt words. “Trying to get rid of me, cara?”
“You don’t have to be Ken Jennings to figure out that if the bad guy wants you here, you should be there.”
Was she concerned for his safety?
Dio, the sky was surely about to fall.
Salvatore prowled forward, his blood heating as she instinctively backed away. He maneuvered her until her ass was pressed against the edge of the desk, caging her legs between his thighs.
“We’ll eventually return to my lair in Rome,” he promised her, satisfaction gripping his heart at the thought of Harley in his classically elegant home. She would add a golden warmth that was badly needed amongst the acres of marble and gilt. “But not until I’ve dealt with Briggs and whatever demon is pulling his strings.”
Her hands landed against his chest. “Very macho.”
He claimed her lips in a kiss of sheer possession. “I can be a lot more macho, if only you’d let me,” he muttered.
“Stop that.” She arched back to stab him with a worried gaze. “I’m being serious. You’re the king—you should act like one.”
His gaze lowered to appreciate the tight stretch of her tank top. “I’m trying.”
“Salvatore.”
With a sigh, he lifted his gaze. “What kingly act do you want from me?”
“Tell me what would happen if Briggs manages to kill you and take the Were throne?”
His jaw clenched. “Not going to happen.”
“Unless you’ve been covering up a special ability to read the future, you can’t know that.” Her expression was stern, unflinching. “Is your pride worth risking the future of your people?”
Salvatore met her unwavering gaze. He was a dominant. An alpha who didn’t accept having his decisions questioned.
He’d taught more than one Were that painful lesson.
But oddly, he didn’t feel the familiar urge to snarl. Harley wasn’t his subordinate. The wolf in him had accepted her as a mate. She was his partner, not one of his pack.
“Harley, Briggs is too dangerous to ignore.” His hands stroked up her bare arms to grasp her shoulders. “I can’t return to Italy until he’s destroyed.”
“You don’t have royal ass-kickers to take care of your killing for you?”
“Any number, but none who would be immune to Briggs’s ability to control their minds.”
She couldn’t dismiss his logic, but that didn’t stop her from finding a new argument.
Women were women, regardless of their species.
“Supposing you do manage to kill him…”
“Such faith.”
“How do you intend to keep him dead?”
Salvatore didn’t have an answer.
And at the moment, he had far more important matters on his mind.
Framing her face in his hands, he lowered his head to brush searing kisses over her cheek.
“A worry for tomorrow.”
Chapter Twelve
Harley forgot how to breathe as Salvatore found her lips in a slow, drugging kiss.