Read Online The Problem with Promises by Leigh Evans - Free Book Online

said.
    This type of woman, I well understood. My Fae aunt Lou had been prone to long, dark periods of deep sulking, followed by explosions of anger. When I’d been an easily spooked kid, those rages had scared the crap out of me.
    Not anymore.
    “Let’s be real blunt,” I said to her. For the first time in the last ten minutes, I felt on top of everything. I’d seen the view from this particular mountaintop before and knew how to navigate the way down. Easy peasy: ignore the bluster and carry on.
    “You’re going to give us the ward. Because no one in their right mind would come here—in the dead of night, to the wolf’s den—and dare to piss off the Alpha of Creemore, unless in the end, she meant to do business.” I folded my arms. “Both you and I know that this is your coven’s last opportunity to get back in favor with the Weres. And in the end, it all comes down to money, right?”
    See? I wasn’t above stealing Trowbridge’s words or logic.
    “If you don’t put a ward around that pond, there won’t be ‘further opportunities’ with the Weres. This is your chance to win back wolf approval and go back to sending your kids to private school.” And then, just to sweeten it, I said, blandly, “The money will really start to roll in after this.”
    Perhaps it was the bland that set me up. Or maybe it’s because I followed up with the slightly smug, “Let’s cut to chase. Tell us what you want.”
    Natasha’s smile was cruel. “Cry for me, Fae. Give me a Tear and we’ll call it even.”
    Whoosh. The air rushed out of my lungs.
    “Think again,” said Trowbridge.
    Natasha shook her head, sure of herself. “No. That’s what I want—a Fae Tear. About the size and shape of a tear-shaped diamond, but many times more valuable.” She smiled at me, the fat Persian cat thinking about moving itself for a spot of fun. “They say all you have to do is make a Fae cry and hold out your hand. Her tear will harden in your palm. Turn to a diamond before your very eyes.”
    “That is a myth,” Trowbridge said, his tone as cold and harsh as driving sleet.
    “No. It’s not,” she said. “And it’s what we should have been given for the last ward we put over this pond. But we were tricked, weren’t we? We didn’t know that Mannus had a Fae in the background.”
    “I could kill you right now, right here, bitch,” said Trowbridge.
    “But you won’t. The Alpha of Creemore doesn’t call on old friends to visit near midnight unless he’s desperate.”
    “C’est vrai,” said Elizabeth.
    Natasha lifted her eyes to meet Trowbridge’s fury with a cool that belied her earlier heat. “One Tear for one ward.”
    “That’s not on the table,” my lover said, his voice a low threat.
    Revenge is sweet, isn’t it?
    The tempting probability of it had swollen Natasha’s chest. She tipped back her head, and said, really slowly, “You better think about your options, Alpha. Because there is no other coven to turn to. The rest of them want to play it safe—keep it all goodness and light. And none of them are interested in dealing with your pack because they’ve seen what happened to us.” She issued him a smile laced with equal parts satisfaction and surety. “Your mate’s going to adjust the balance sheet. She’s going to pay the bill that your kin should have paid. She’s going to give me a piece of the Fae, crystallized into a diamond. It’s the only thing I’m interested in and the only thing our coven will bargain for.”
    Then she turned to me and stared at my dry eyes.
    Tell her you don’t have them.
    A lie. One that I couldn’t carry off because I could see it in her eyes. She knows. How did she know I always carried them, safe in the small leather pouch, hanging from the end of the golden chain belt girthing my hips?
    She knows.
    About those perfect six stones birthed in acute pain. Five of them squeezed from my mother’s eyes, one of them from my own—brought forth as I lay on