But that wasn’t the point.
“Aeslinn was there,” I reminded him, talking about the Svarestri king and an adventure we’d had while I chased Pritkin’s soul through time. “He saw you in Camelot—”
Pritkin scowled. “It wasn’t called that. It was never called—”
“What difference does it make what it was called! Or what you were called, or what anything was called! Aeslinn could have easily realized the part you had to play in ruining his plans to bring back the gods the last time. Why wouldn’t he fear that you might do it again?”
“Or that you might,” said the stubbornest man on Earth. “You were there, too, as I recall.”
“This isn’t about me—”
“We don’t
know that.”
“We do know that! It was your goddamned room!”
“Where anyone with a brain could have known you would be. Cassie, this will be investigated, and all possibilities considered. But in the meantime, you have to stay at court. I need you to promise me—”
“I have a job to do!”
“Not with the invasion about to take place! You have excellent wards there; they’ll keep you safe—”
“Yeah, they helped so much here.”
“The ones at court are not the same kind. I’ve layered them with fey magic—three different varieties. You also have the coven girls now,” he added, talking about the newest additions to my staff. “Their magic is based on that of the fey. If Aeslinn sends another assassin after you—”
“He didn’t send this one!”
“—you will be far better protected there than anywhere else I can think of.”
“And what about you?”
He frowned. “What about me?”
I couldn’t help it; I grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him to me. A hard hand settled on my hip and another on my nape, making it a question of who was grabbing who, exactly, but I was too pissed to care. “You—goddamnit, Pritkin! What if I’m right? If that thing was after you—”
“Unlikely. There is no reason for the Svarestri to connect me with a court long since faded into legend, and a name I no longer use.”
“We don’t know what they might have figured out, and until we do, you should be back to court, too. As you said, the protection there—”
“I can protect myself.”
“And I can’t? I think I just proved—”
“That you recklessly put my safety before your own?” he asked, the scowl deepening. “A fact you’ve done more than once!”
“Because you were the one in danger—”
“Or you were!”
“Damn it, Pritkin! You drive me crazy!”
“What is it you Americans say? Right back at you,” he snarled, and hard lips came down on mine.
It was a good kiss. Okay, it was very good. Enough that I found myself letting go of his shirt front and curling my arms around his neck instead, while his hand got a little grab ass-y with my pretty new skirt. And what was underneath it.
We finally broke apart, and his face had softened. From terrifying mage to wistful lover. For a moment, I actually thought I’d won an argument for once.