Claiming the Prince: Book One Read Online Free

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    “Oh, thanks,” Frank said, his anger fizzling. “Arrived yesterday.”
    “The Griebel?” Riker asked as if fine gnome collectibles were also his passion.
    Frank smiled a bit, and all the lines of his face smiled too. “Well, yes. The bidding was quite intense. And doing it over the phone was nerve-wracking. Not being able to read the room and depending on someone else to place my bids—”
    “He’s a knockout,” Riker said. “All the lady gnomes better watch out—”
    “This is ludicrous,” Damion growled to Magda.
    Frank’s good humor vanished. “You are ludicrous. Look at him, Magda. He will never fit in here. You will have mercenaries upon us all. He cannot stay here.”
    “I have pledged myself to Magdalena,” Damion stated.
    Magda winced.
    Frank whipped off his aviators. “What? You’re accepting fealty now?”
    “What’s that mean?” Riker asked, frowning slightly. “Are you sleeping with this guy?”
    “He’s my cousin,” she said to Riker. Then to Frank, she said, “I did not accept it. He merely offered it.”
    Frank shook his head. “Oh, Magda. Don’t do this. You are a good girl. You do not want to become embroiled in all of those old world troubles again, do you?”
    “No, of course not,” she said. “Absolutely not.”
    Mr. Fuller, a big brown cat with black stripes, meandered towards them, dancing around Magda’s legs, rubbing up against her shins and purring loudly.
    “You see,” Frank said. “Even Mr. Fuller is worried for you.”
    “Damion is my family,” she said, reaching down and scooping up Mr. Fuller. He nuzzled under her chin, tickling her mouth and nose with his fur. “He’s new to this world. He has no one else.”
    Frank sniffed. “You want him to stay? Then you’ll have to take him to Python.”
    “Oh, please no, Frank. It’s a long way, and I have to work tomorrow—”
    “If Python doesn’t give him the okay, then he’s out of here.”
    “You can’t do that, Frank.”
    “Oh, no? Where’s my lot rent?”
    “I told you—”
    “You’re chronically late with it. You think I don’t have recourse? I have recourse. It’s called a lawyer.”
    “Come on, Frank—” Riker started.
    “Don’t try any of your Pixie Prince charm on me,” Frank said, thrusting his pipe under Riker’s nose. “You don’t know anything about the kind of danger that”—he waved his sunglasses at Damion and one of the lenses flew out—“ this type can bring down on us.”
    Riker scooped up the lens and handed it back to Frank. “If Magda trusts him, then so do I.”
    “You’re a child, no offense,” Frank said, holding up the lens to the light. “Damn. Scratched.” He cocked an eye at Damion. “Might be a portent.”
    “Oh geez, Frank, really?” Magda said, spitting cat fur from her mouth. She set Mr. Fuller down, though he remained glued to her legs. “Portents? In this world?”
    “Portents follow the person. They don’t care about the world.” Frank jammed his glasses back onto his lumpy face, one silver eye bulging behind the empty rim. “Take him to Python, or I call my lawyers.”
    He turned, stomping back to his house, light-up shoes flashing.
    When his screen door had slammed shut behind him, Magda ran her hands over her face, rubbing her eyes roughly.
    “So . . . what is this all about? Is he really your cousin?” Riker asked.
    “I can leave, Mistress—”
    “Please don’t start calling me that,” she said, hands dropping. “You’ll only make it worse. And you’re not leaving. Where would you go?”
    “The gravel-eater was right,” Damion said, surveying the road and the mostly tidy rows of manufactured homes. “I don’t belong in this world. And neither do you.”
    “Damion, I told you. I’m not going back.”
    Riker shuffled closer, speaking to Damion. “She can’t go back. She’s been exiled. She’ll be killed, won’t she?”
    Damion gazed at Riker in a way that surely would have made most others quiver, but