Free The Faerie's Honeymoon by Emma Holly Page A

smiled. “I healed you. You’re probably over-juiced.”
    “I fell ...”
    “Yes. A vampire attacked you, but Darius subdued him. The police have arrested him.”
    The demon let out a low snarling noise, implying he had his own idea how justice should have been served.
    “I recognized him,” Belle said slowly. “The pale tall man. He followed us up the Pocket State Building. Darius snapped at him for bumping me. But that can’t be why he pushed me off the roof.”
    “It isn’t,” Duvall said. “He was among the paparazzi I ordered away from the hotel. He lost his anti-burn charm in the chaos, and his face was seared by the sun. In spite of my warning, he decided to come back and try to photograph us again. When he passed through the Don’t Return barrier I’d set up, the magic interacted with his earlier injury. Instead of healing, his burn became permanent.”
    “And that’s why he attacked me?”
    “I’m afraid so. Vampires are vain about their looks, and they resent fae superiority more than most races. Because this vampire couldn’t take me on directly, he targeted someone I care about.” Duvall rubbed her nearer hand between both of his. “I’m sorry, Belle. My arrogance prevented me from considering we’d face an enemy less powerful than myself. I wasn’t on guard as I should have been.”
    He seemed very concerned about this, as did Darius when she glanced at him. For a moment, she flashed back to falling but fought the unsettling memory off.
    “You saved me,” she reminded her husband. “Darius caught the guy, and you -” Another flash came to her, this one of Duvall bulleting down the building like a skydiver. His clothes were shredded, his wings a Disney dream on acid. She blinked to get her brain into gear again. “You caught me. Somehow you threw yourself between me and the street.”
    “I knew I’d survive the fall. I wouldn’t have survived losing you.”
    The matter of factness with which he said this shocked her. She met his dark magic eyes, her fingers tightening around his. She didn’t protest his devotion. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. He was what he was, and he felt what he felt. Sometimes his emotions were simpler than hers. That didn’t make them wrong.
    “I’m glad you didn’t lose me,” she said.
    He smiled faintly, and Darius cleared his throat.
    “I would beg forgiveness,” he said, “of both of you. You hired me to protect your wife. I should have stopped the fang long before he reached her.”
    His words were ritualistic, his eyes cast down. Belle wondered what the punishment for his lapse would have been in the dimension he came from. More than a slap on the wrist, she guessed.
    “You are forgiven,” Duvall said, his tone equally formal. “I cannot punish you for a failure I also was guilty of.”
    “Sire,” the demon acknowledged gratefully. When he bowed deeply from the waist, he seemed to fill half the room.
    “Well,” Belle said, “now that we’ve got that squared away, do you think we could go back to the hotel? I’d much rather finish recuperating in my fancy bed.”
    Duvall bent to kiss her forehead, seeming to understand her words were meant to cut the tension. “Beloved,” he said, a slight laugh in it.
    For his pride’s sake, Belle pretended not to see the tears in his eyes.

Chapter Six
    THEIR return to the hotel was a reprise of their first entrance. Belle and her two protectors were greeted with a lot of bowing and “sir”-ing and profuse apologies for not barring the evil vampire from their shindig. Evidently, in Resurrection, being a faerie meant never having to apologize for bringing trouble along with you.
    Belle kept her smile to herself, amused by how very on-the-same-page the hotel staff and Duvall were.
    “Go away,” he finally snapped to the hovering manager and her crew. “I’ll call you if I decide you need scolding.”
    They cleared out so quickly crickets should have been chirping in the lobby.
    This was a