“Well, it seems the cleaning fairy’s been here,” he whispered in her ear.
Stella nodded and moved slowly toward the door, itching to get to her bedroom, where she left her gun. She didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage. George stayed close by her side as they made their way to her bedroom. He kept his shield around her as she cautiously walked over to the chair by her closet and watched her quickly pull on her shoulder harness that cradled her gun.
Feeling more secure now that she was armed, Stella turned, narrowing her eyes, searching the room. At first glance, nothing seemed to be disturbed. But when she looked at the mirror over the vanity, her eyes widened. Words were written on the mirror with her favorite lipstick.
“How does it feel knowing I can take from you like you took from me? I will have my revenge.
Over the last year, Stella was forced to face the fact that indeed she was different. One blow after another continually hit her from her heritage, almost destroying her mental health.
If it weren’t for George Smale coming into her life at that time, she knew she might have been stuck in a psychiatric ward somewhere for the insane. Of course, he would say it was her own inner strength that kept her balanced precariously on the thin line of sanity. Whatever the reason for her keeping her sanity intact, she was tremendously grateful for it. She accepted not only her heritage now but also the fact that she was a direct descendant of Queen Ravena and Prince Gareg. She now considered this fact a gift.
Even though she had royal blood flowing through her and was considered the most powerful being in the human world, Stella insisted on dealing with problems the normal, human way. As a private investigator, she relied on facts and procedures, the same way she relied on them when she was a lieutenant on the police force.
Now the most important thing was to keep what they were a secret from the rest of the world. Magic must always be kept a secret.