The Unseelie King (The Kings Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her handbag, pulled out her iPhone, and glanced at the screen.
    It was a text message from Evelynne D’Angelo, Roman D’Angelo’s wife and queen of the vampire nation.
    “Meeting is being called,” she mumbled.
    “And Lalura and Roman want the queens in attendance as well,” finished Avery.
    Selene processed that. There was so much to learn about the other kings and queens who made up the famous – and infamous – “Thirteen.” For instance, the afore-mentioned “Time King.” Oh, the questions she had….
    Every once in a while, the reality of what she was and what was expected of her struck her in the face like a flat-handed slap, and she felt stunned. Like right now.
    It would all take some getting used to. But she was a quick study, and a strong woman, and the fates knew, she’d never, ever backed down from a challenge.
    Avery placed his phone back into his back pocket and looked around. She knew he was taking in how many people were in the parking lot and whether or not they would be seen stepping through a portal. The lot was on the top level of a multi-tiered parking garage, where few ever chose to park if they could help it, because people were generally lazy and because no one wished to expose their vehicles to the elements if it could be helped. Supernatural beings who could open portals often chose to park at the top levels for exactly such a reason; it provided necessary privacy in the event such a portal would be needed.
    “We’re all clear,” Selene said.
    Avery turned and raised his hand toward an empty space in the lot. The air began to spin, to glow, and to separate. When the portal was large enough for them to move through, Avery lowered his arm, grabbed her hand, and the two stepped through.
    The car behind them beeped twice, its headlights flashing as Selene re-locked it just before the portal closed, shutting them off in their journey to another place and time.

Chapter Three
    “She’s composed of anger,” whispered Caliban.
    “As is proper for a Wisher, no?” came the weathered reply.
    Cal turned to the man who’d spoken. Thanaeryv Drummar was a blue-eyed man four and a half feet tall and as wrinkled as an aged apple. A white beard brushed Drummar’s slightly paunchy belly, which he staunchly blamed on his wife’s cooking, the only thing in any realm that could pull him from his job and had on many occasions. But she was an award-winning Duwomm cook, which were unabashedly the best in all the fae lands, and so Caliban could very much forgive this.
    The exceedingly old man had been his advisor for thousands of years, but time meant little to a fae. It was the wisdom in his eyes, the honesty in the depth of his tone, and the fact that this man had actually helped raise him – and had once literally died for him – that touched Caliban’s heart in a way little else in the realms could.
    Duwomm fae were inhabitants of the Twixt, that realm between the realms. They were born with two very long lives. Drummar had sacrificed one of his for Caliban when the Unseelie King was quite young and still more foolhardy than not. Caliban would never forget it, even though Drummar seemed to have done so.
    “But it’s different with her,” Cal insisted quietly. “She is not like her sister. She even knew who I was,” he said, turning to face his advisor, “and my weaknesses.”
    “Wishers are powerful fae, Caliban, with minds of steel,” said Drummar quietly, his voice as papery with age as Lalura Chantelle’s. “They can recall things they have only known fleetingly. It’s possible she is simply remembering what little knowledge of the fae realms she gleaned while in her mother’s womb, and while she was an infant in her mother’s arms. No doubt, her mother told her stories or sang her songs.”
    “Possibly. However, I don’t believe this knowledge was so intrinsic for her sister. Selene didn’t know Avery for who he was.” He shook his head. “For Minerva, it was immediate.