If dealing with all the crap I had on my plate didn’t make me think I was a queen, then I didn’t really know what else would. I let the crown issue go and instead recapped my latest intel about the bandits and Abigail. “I can’t figure out her role here. You mentioned before that Art’s motives would be…uh, understandable. But why her? Unless she’s just enough of a pal to help him score some gentry action.”

Dorian was still in his pensive mode. He’d poured himself yet another glass of wine and handed me one too that I sipped sparingly. “Let me ask you this. Why do men of the shining ones so often abduct your women?”

“Easy,” I returned. “Because we’re more fertile. You guys might have sex in public, but it doesn’t usually result in anything. A guy who wants a kid has better luck with a human.”

Dorian nodded. I had a feeling he’d already made some leap of logic and was prompting me here to figure it out myself. “And what about humans? Are you hoping for children each time you make love?”

I laughed, thinking of my stock of condoms and birth control pills. “Hardly. We go to a lot of trouble not to. Too easy for us.”

He leaned toward me, green eyes shrewd. “Then think about it. You understand why we would want humans. Why would humans want us?”

I studied him, trying to catch up to what he’d already thought of. A few moments later, I got it. “Because you’d fulfill the opposite need. A human could have sex with a gentry girl and not worry too much about her getting pregnant. Or getting a disease.”

Gentry were healthier than us in that regard. It seemed to go along with them having such long life spans-

“Oh God. That would be part of it.” The more I followed his logic, the clearer and clearer it became. “You guys live longer. Gentry girls would stay young and beautiful for a long time….”

The horror of it was setting in. Until that moment, I had thought there were few sexual crimes worse than gentry guys consistently trying to rape me to get me pregnant. As shocking as it seemed, I was wrong. If this were true…if this idea that Dorian was suggesting was true…well. That was worse. Gentry girls taken because they were the ideal sexual partners: young, disease resistant, hard to get pregnant-even with a human. I almost laughed. It was like Tim’s poem about the maiden who’d come from another world, whose beauty and youth were so great that mortal men had coveted her.

The question was, how did the gentry girls feel about this role? A lot of girls wanting to get pregnant might wholeheartedly embrace human lovers-literally and figuratively. But Moria’s traumatized state suggested her stint with Art hadn’t been welcome…

I stood up and rubbed my eyes. “Oh God,” I repeated. “The stuff…all the stuff…”

“What?” asked Dorian, understandably confused.

Dropping my hands, I looked back at him. “These shamans, Abigail and Art. They live well. They have more possessions…nicer things than they should for the jobs they have.” Art’s giant house in an upper-class neighborhood. The shiny SUV. Abigail’s luxurious-albeit messy-apartment. Her extensive jewelry collection. “I don’t know how, but they’re making money off it. Off these girls.” I slumped against the wall. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

Dorian rose and came to stand by me. “You’ll stop them.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. Art was right-there’s no shaman council. I can’t report them to anyone, certainly not human authorities. There’s no accountability, no laws that apply here.”

“They’re breaking your laws,” he said, leaning toward me. “Therefore you have every right to stop them. Treat them as you would any other criminal in your land. Kill them.”

“I can’t!” I exclaimed. “I’d have to actually catch them here, and so far I haven’t been able to. And I’m certainly not going to go to Texas and kill them there.”

“Why not? If a murderer from my kingdom killed someone in yours, I wouldn’t bat an eye if you came to slay him.”

“It’s different. They’re…”

“Human?”

I hated to admit, but yes, there it was. I had chased Otherworldly monsters from my world back to this one and never hesitated to kill them or banish them directly to the Underworld. But somehow, the thought of intentionally tracking humans and killing them…

I didn’t need to voice my answer for Dorian to understand. Exasperation flared on his face, this time mixed with…anger.

“Damn it, Eugenie. You just told me you had to put things right! Which is it? Or does it only depend on what’s easy at any given time? What your mood is? Who you like better that day?”

“It’s not that easy!” I exclaimed. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand. I’m caught between two worlds here, with two sets of loyalties. I’ve spent my entire life being human-being part of that world. You can’t expect me to throw all that away and betray my own kind.”

He opened his mouth to retort and was interrupted by a faint roll of thunder. Whatever words he’d been about to utter disappeared, and he laughed. “Do you hear that? That’s you, Eugenie. Your anger.”

I shook my head. “I can’t control thunder and lightning yet.”

“Not control, no. But you can summon it unconsciously. Do you think there’s anything in this land that isn’t tied to you?” He gestured around us. “All these people here…all the people in this village looking at you with adoring eyes…they are your own kind too. This is what I meant when I said you’re the only one who doesn’t seem to realize you’re a queen yet! All these people are looking to you to protect them and do what’s right. If you can’t do that, then you might as well back off and do what the kitsune and your stepfather want you to do.”

“Dorian, I can’t kill in cold blood!”

He gripped me by the arms, voice calm but infused with anger. “You can do whatever it is you have to do! You are a queen. Forget all this talk about Storm King’s grandson. Right now, you are his heir. You are on the verge of becoming one of the most powerful rulers in this world, which means you don’t have the luxury of being squeamish. You can rule with love, but you have to rule with ruthlessness too. You are going to go down in history, Eugenie, as one of the greatest monarchs we have ever seen. And it is going to start with this-this wrong that you’re going to right. If you can’t do it, if you can’t stop those who are hurting your people, then you might as well stop the rest of this charade. Go out there and tell those people you can’t do anything for them, that you can’t feed them or protect them because they aren’t your kind and aren’t worth bloodying your hands for!”

He was shouting now, breathing heavily. I stared at him, eyes wide, filled with a little of that fear I always got when his temper rose. Moments like these reminded me of just how powerful Dorian was physically and magically. His lazy, lean appearance was deceptive; I’d seen him fight. Between that and the power he wielded, I hoped there would never come a day when we were truly antagonists. Outside, I heard thunder again.

It took me several seconds to muster an answer, and when I spoke, my voice was very small.

“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t tell them that.”

“I know you can’t,” he whispered.

And then, still gripping me, he leaned down and kissed me. More astonishingly, I kissed him back. It seemed like all the emotions that had consumed me recently-all the rage and confusion-were poured into that kiss. My teeth bit against his lips, and when he shoved me against the wall, I welcomed the brief pain. Our hands were all over each other as we kissed, mine running the length of his body while his more aggressively hiked up the dress I’d earlier regretted wearing. In a matter of seconds, it was pushed over my hips, leaving my legs bare. With one hand still holding the skirt up, his other pushed between my thighs, slipping underneath the thong I’d put on this morning in the hopes of getting intimate with Kiyo.