“Oh, he was jealous. Yes, I see. Your sire must be far fonder of you in your timeline than mine is here.”
“He loves me.”
“Lucky you. Mine hates me,” she says as she plops down on the sofa.
“I can see why,” I mutter.
“Oh?” she snaps. “Being a bit judgy, are we?”
“Truth hurts, does it?” I snap back.
She regards me with renewed interest. “How does he love you?”
“He just does. We are in love. He will do anything for me. Give me anything I ask.” All of this is unnecessary info, but I feel the need to rub it in her smug face.
“Since when?”
“Since always. Albeit only the last few months have we come to realize just what we mean to each other again and how far we will go to be together.”
“Told you he will marry you, did he?” she goads, and I have the great satisfaction of telling her.
“Yes. In fact,” I hold up my right hand and wiggle my fingers, “he gave me this in exchange for my promise to marry him.”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head and I smile smugly at her. Seems I have something she wants this time. I am itching to tell her about Ponte, but I keep my mouth shut, with great difficulty.
“But you are already married. To Cole, I understand? I don’t understand this?” She seems genuinely perplexed.
“It isn’t for you to understand. This is my life.”
“And yet you come here looking for my Fraser? You do have some nerve,” she says as she stands up again.
“Look, I don’t want to argue with you,” I say, trying to placate her. “But anything you can tell me on how to defeat this Thirteen lark would be most appreciated.”
“How appreciated?” she asks, very bright green eyes narrowed to two tiny slits.
“What do you want?” I ask cautiously.
“I think you know.”
“You are not coming to my world and taking what is mine,” I say vehemently.
She shakes her head sadly. “I want my sire’s love. I don’t understand why you have it and I don’t.”
“How can I help you with that? You aren’t having my sire.”
“I don’t want yours,” she grinds out. “I want mine. I saw the way mine looked at you. Why do you get two who love you?”
“Your sire doesn’t love me. He doesn’t know me. He clearly knows you though,” I say, hands returning to my hips now as I gain a slight upper hand.
“What do you know?”
“He said the Power has gone to your head. That he fears for this world now that you are Empress. Doesn’t that say something to you about the way you are acting?”
“He said that?” she asks, taken aback.
“Yes. In the whole two minutes, I knew him, that is what he chose to tell me.”
She steels herself. “Help me and I will help you.”