The Sea Witch: A Wicked Villains Novel

by Robert, Katee

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I do know that.” She gives a smile that’s a shadow of her normal one. “There are two kinds of people in this world. Those that flourish in the shadows—and those that suffocate in them. We’re the former. That girl is the latter. Trying to keep her would be cruel and selfish, and I may be ruthless to a fault, but even I have to draw the line somewhere. She’ll walk from this with a good story about her dance on the dark side, and then she’ll return to the light and marry some nice normal person who doesn’t have an earned reputation for drowning her victims.” She looks at me. “And one who doesn’t lie, cheat, and steal in order to further his own goals.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I don’t say it to hurt you. I say it because it’s truth—for both of us.”

  She’s not wrong, but… “That’s not the full story, though.” I lean forward and stroke her knees under the water. “If she were that sunny, she wouldn’t happily step to every line we draw in the sand. She’s fierce, Ursa. Fiercer than I could have imagined.”

  She gives me a long look, something vulnerable lingering in her dark eyes. “Are you sure you aren’t saying you want to keep her, rather than we want to?”

  I sit back abruptly. In all the time I’ve known Ursa, she’s never once shied away from what she wants, whether it’s people, possessions, or territory. She’s bold and ruthless, and if she dresses it up in a kind exterior, that just makes her better at accomplishing her goals. Why is she balking now? “You want her.” I say it slowly. “I see the way you look at her.”

  “We’re not talking about me. You’re the one that follows her around with hearts in your eyes.”

  I push down my instinctive urge to defend myself. No matter if I want to admit it or not, my feelings for Zurielle are complicated in the extreme. Realizing that she’s fiercer than I could have dreamed only makes them more complicated. Before, I felt bad for dragging a near-innocent into this mess, daughter of Triton or no. Now? She could be one of us. I know it, and if I know it, then Ursa’s already considered it. I don’t understand her hesitation.

  “Surely you can see that she worships the ground you walk on.” I keep pressing, even when the set of Ursa’s shoulders warns me off. We have to talk about this. We have to talk about something beyond fucking. “She wants to stay, Ursa. What’s so wrong with letting this extend past a week?”

  “That’s your problem, Alaric.” She stands abruptly, water cascading down her breasts and stomach and hips. She looks like Aphrodite emerging from the sea, and my body responds despite the fact that we’re in the middle of a careful non-argument. Even now, she’s holding me at a distance. The only change is that I am painfully aware of the space remaining between us. Will she ever let me in? I had assumed we’d slip into something resembling a normal relationship once I was free. Now I’m not so sure.

  Ursa’s expression is that careful smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You let selfish wants motivate you without thinking things through. You want her. You don’t care about her wants or needs in this situation, only yours. That’s always been your problem.”

  I flinch. She’s not wrong, but in all my time of knowing her, she’s never cut me down verbally quite so neatly. Again, I can’t help pushing. I am as selfish as she claims, but she’s also dodging her feelings on this whole subject. She’s shutting me out and I hate it. “I never expected you to be a coward.”

  Ursa steps out of the tub and dries off with one of her oversized fluffy towels. She doesn’t look at me as she takes her time rubbing lotion into her skin. It’s not until she’s shrugged back into her robe that she gives me her attention, as if she needs that little bit of barrier between us. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense to me.

  I’m right here. “Ursa, talk to me. Let me in.” I don’t really mean to blurt out the words, but I have the sudden fear that if she walks out of this conversation right now, it will harm something fragile in our fledgling relationship. “Please.”

  She shakes her head slowly. “That girl isn’t for us.” She turns and walks to the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. I’ve never seen her look so closed down. “But if you want her that badly, you’re more than free to go when she goes.”

  Chapter 22

  Ursa

  Maybe I am the coward Alaric names me. It’s hard to argue with it when I dress quickly and slip out of my penthouse. I haven’t snuck out of anywhere since I was a teenager, and it didn’t go well the single time I tried.

  I stop short at the elevator and have to force myself to push the button. I haven’t thought about when I was a young for a long time. There’s no point. I was a happy child of a happy couple, and my parents supported and loved me—even if they didn’t understand my need for more. They were content in the little house that always made me feel like the walls were closing in. They enjoyed their normal jobs that didn’t require anything more of them than showing up for work Monday to Friday. They enjoyed their perfectly normal marriage.

  At least they did until their unexpected deaths when I was still working for Poseidon. They never lived to see my exile, certainly never to see what I’ve become.

  I try not to contemplate what they’d think of me now. Would they still love their precious daughter knowing I’ve taken a life? Many lives?

  Impossible to say. Better not to ask.

  I hate that I’m thinking about this now. I don’t falter. I haven’t since I set myself on this path, one that puts me at the top. It means getting my hands dirty from time to time, but I have to take those measures less now because I set a precedent early on. As much as I pretend it’s a happy side effect, it matters to me that the people in my territory are better off than they were under the last leader.

  The elevator takes me down to the garage, and I waste no time sending Malone a text.

  Me: Are you home?

  Malone: Yes, why?

  Me: I’ll be there in twenty.

  I step out of the elevator and find Monica waiting for me. From the faint sheen of sweat on her dark brown skin, she ran here from the main security hub. She gives me a long look. “I know you weren’t about to leave without a driver or security or even talking to me.”

  I’d been about to do exactly that. “I won’t need a driver for this.” And Monica is one of the few people close enough to me to call me on my shit, something I’m not too eager to experience. Not when I’m still so raw from the conversation with Alaric.

  “Yeah, no. That Domme lady tone doesn’t work with me.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Get in the car. If I’m not satisfied you’re in your right mind by the end of the drive, we’re turning around and coming straight back here.”

  Frustration bubbles up in my chest. “You do realize that you work for me, correct?”

  Monica arches a brow. “You pay me, sure, but right now you look like you need a friend more than you need your head of security. Get in the car.”

  There’s no point of arguing with her. She’s right, after all.

  I’m running and knowing that still isn’t enough for my pride to kick in and send me back up to my penthouse. Let Alaric and Zurielle comfort each other if that’s what they need. Alaric can handle Zurielle’s needs while I’m gone.

  He shouldn’t have to. I should be there to take care of things.

  Instead I’m climbing into the back of my town car, about to have yet another uncomfortable conversation I would rather avoid. Monica doesn’t make me wait long. We’re barely out of the parking garage before she meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “You’re going to Malone’s.”

  “Yes.”

  She shakes her head. “She’s going to tell you the same thing I’m about to: you’re being ridiculous.”

  I bite back a sigh. Monica’s never parsed her words with me, which is something I value in a head of security. The person in the position needs to be self-assured enough to speak up to ensure my safety and the safety of the people within my care. In the years that Monica’s held
the position, we’ve become friends. Most of the time I enjoy her upfront attitude.

  Most of the time, she’s not directing it at me like this, though.

  “I’m not being ridiculous.”

  “Oh, I see.” She nods slowly. “That’s why you’re running halfway across town to get away from those two up in your apartment. Because you’re not being ridiculous. Makes perfect sense to me.”

  I glare. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “It’s literally my job to have all the information required to keep you safe. I probably understand better than you do. Alaric’s not happy in the little box you put him in, and he’s rattling his cage, which is rattling you.” Her gaze softens the tiniest bit. “You didn’t really consider what it’d be like once he’s free, huh?”

  “Alaric and I are fine,” I say stiffly.

  “Ursa.” Now her tone has gone soft, too. “That man worships the ground you walk on. You should be firmly in the honeymoon stage right now, not fine.”

  “I can’t trust him. Not completely. Not where Zurielle is concerned.” The words spring free despite my best efforts to keep them internal. “Letting him too close right now is a mistake.”

  Monica’s silent for several blocks. “What if it isn’t, though? Have you thought about that?”

  Yes. Of course I have. The temptation to dismantle my walls and lean on him is almost too much to bear. I’ve stood alone for so long, and I am so incredibly tired. Alaric might not understand the sheer amount I carry, but he wouldn’t think less of me for wanting to set it down for a little while. He even seems to crave that intimacy.

  It scares the shit out of me.

  I can’t say this to Monica, though. Not unless I want another lecture about how good Alaric could be for me if I’d just get out of my own way. She’s liked him from the moment she met him during his first overnight at my place. Hardly an impartial party. “I’ll give it some more thought.”

  “As long as there’s some action involved with all that thinking.”

  “There will be.” Just not yet. Not tonight.

  We make the drive to Malone’s place in thirty minutes. Like most of the other territory leaders, she makes her home in one of the skyscrapers in her territory. Unlike the rest of us, she’s actually CEO of the perfectly aboveboard company that runs out of this place. That’s what makes Malone so formidable. She’s one of the most powerful people in Carver City on both sides of the law. But then, she’s an Amazon, so of course she is. Those women all like to have their fingers in both legal and illegal businesses.

  Her head of security, Sara, meets me at the front door. They’re a large Maori non-binary person with long black hair braided away from their strong face. They nod at me and step aside. “She’s waiting for you. Monica can wait here.” They smile. “Good to see you again.”

  “You, too.” Monica grins back. “Love what you’ve done with your hair.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You two behave yourselves while I’m up there.”

  Sara snorts. “We always do. Poker?”

  “Definitely.” Monica makes a shooing motion. “Go talk to Malone. Maybe you’ll listen to her advice.”

  “I listen to yours.” I sound like I’m protesting, and the look Monica gives me says she notices. There’s nothing to do but stage a studied retreat. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  Malone and I come and go from each other’s residences often enough that our teams have become friendly—though that would go up in smoke in a second if we ever went to war. Private security can make a person’s life a living hell if they aren’t careful, no matter what their boss says. I know for a fact that Malone sends gifts to my main team on their birthdays, the crafty bitch. I’ve made a habit of doing the same for her people.

  I find her in her living room. Her penthouse is much like the woman herself; stark and beautiful and more than a little cold. I frown at the pristine white couch she lounges on. “Is that new?”

  “Rogue took exception to the last one.”

  “You’re the only person I know who is willing to spend obscene amounts of money on furniture just for your cat to demolish it.”

  “Everyone needs a hobby.”

  I glance around the room. “Where is the little demon?”

  “He’s around. I’m sure he’ll make his presence known at some point.” She motions an elegant hand to the couch. “Sit. You look frazzled.”

  “I look nothing of the sort.” I sit despite my protest. Malone is dressed in a variation of her usual outfit, black slacks and a deep red blouse. It’s a little more professional and a little less sexy than what she normally wears to the Underworld. She must have been working when I called. “I interrupted your day.”

  “It’s nothing.” She waves that away. “I was done with my meetings for the day. You saved me from a few hours of going over tedious reports.”

  Tedious reports she’ll no doubt circle right back to the second I leave. I sigh. I should know better than to run to Malone, just like I should know better than to try to get around Monica to do it. I never show up like this, so of course she dropped everything in response. If I were wiser, I’d keep my own counsel, but I can’t help the messy feelings bubbling up inside me. “You’ve never lost your mind over a sub.”

  She pauses, green eyes narrowed. “I know you didn’t come here to rib me about Aurora. I hardly call my reluctance to play with her the same thing as losing my mind.”

  “That’s not what I meant. If I wanted to give you shit about her, I’m more than capable of doing it over the phone.” I stifle the urge to do exactly that. Malone is so icy with most people that it’s jaw-dropping to see someone get under her skin. Especially Aurora, who’s one of the sweetest and most unassuming subs in the Underworld. Oh, she’s gained some teeth and claws since taking over as Megaera’s second-in-command, but she’s still a nice girl. “What are you going to do about her?”

  “Ursa.” Malone glares. “The only time you work this hard not to talk about something is if it’s really bothering you. What’s going on? Is it Alaric?” She tenses. “Shall I handle it?”

  “Darling, I’m more than capable of handling my own problems.”

  “And yet you’re here, talking to me instead of doing exactly that.”

  She has me there and we both know it. I settle back against the couch with a sigh. “I have done unforgivable things to grasp and maintain power. I’ve had to work harder and be more vicious when I’m challenged than a white man would in my position. You understand that.”

  “Yes,” Malone says slowly. “I fail to see what that has to do with anything. You haven’t gone and developed a conscience on me, have you?”

  “No, of course not.” Except when I think of a conscience, it’s Zurielle’s face that appears in my mind. No matter what Alaric thinks, she’s got a moral center that we would damage if we tried to keep it. Trying to force the three of us to fit in a permanent way will only result in ruin. Why can’t he see that?

  Why can’t he stop pushing until I’m ready to let him in?

  “Ursa.” Malone’s tone goes as gentle as she’s capable of. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Alaric wants to keep Zurielle.”

  “He can fuck off, then.” Malone folds her hands on her knee. “He’s a wonderful submissive, but he’s a fuck boy and I’ve never understood what you saw in him that convinced you to go so far as dating him.”

  I roll my eyes, a reluctant smile pulling at the edges of my lips. “Really, darling, don’t hold back on my account.” No one is holding back on my account today.

  “Yes, yes, you have feelings for him.” She shakes her head as if she can’t understand it. One day Malone will be knocked fully off balance by someone, and I’ll enjoy every moment of watching it happen.

  “He doesn’t want to leave me for her.” Things would be simpler if that were the case. He was never truly mine, not in full. Easier to lose him before I really had him… Or that’s what I try to tell my
self. It doesn’t feel like the truth. “He wants us to keep her.”

  “Oh.” Malone pauses. “So keep her.”

  “Not you, too.” I slump back on the couch. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It’s exactly that simple.” She’s looking at me like she’s never seen me before. “You have never had a problem taking what you want, Ursa. Even the girl; you had a plan to acquire her and so you did. I don’t understand why this is bothering you.”

  I don’t entirely understand it, either. What do I care if staying with me damages Zurielle’s innocence? The world isn’t kind to the innocent. Only the strong survive, and she’d survive longer with me than without.

  Except…

  I sigh. “I care about her. I don’t want her to be damaged by being with me.”

  Of all the responses, I don’t expect Malone to burst out laughing. She starts to speak and then erupts into laughter again, until she’s bent over and clutching her stomach.

  It makes me want to shove her right off the couch. “I don’t see what’s so funny, you bitch.”

  “You are so funny.” She gasps in a breath and manages to reclaim her normal icy calm…mostly. “Oh, gods, you are too much. I never thought I’d see the day where you get so twisted up over some little thing. Her pussy must be downright magical. You’ve only had her for two days.”

  “Malone, be serious.”

  “I am being serious.” She carefully wipes at the edges of her eyes with her black-tipped nails. “I’m sorry. You surprised me.”

  “You don’t have to enjoy it so much.” I sound grumpy and out of sorts, nothing like my normal calculated tone of amusement, but my careful mask has fractured in the last twenty-four hours and I can’t quite manage to reclaim it despite my best efforts. “She’s just so good.”

  “Is she?”

  “Malone.”

  “Yes, yes, apologies again.” She doesn’t sound any sorrier this time than she did earlier. “Ursa, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re scared.”

  “I’m not scared.” I protest too quickly, making a liar of myself.