“They don’t need any help with those parts.” Ember laughed.
The succubus crooked a finger at Norrix. Playing along, he lowered his head. “Be careful. That second guard works for Haestratus.”
“Do not impede the Vasilissa!” The second guard snarled the order at the succubus.
“Thank you for telling me.” Norrix held Vylaya’s hand to his lips and kissed her palm. She flushed and giggled as she resumed her seat.
“Ebeneezer, Bubba, show the woman our tokens.”
Norrix fought to keep a straight face as Stryx growled. They couldn’t use their real names, but Ebeneezer and Bubba?
Vylaya jotted down numbers and colors and waved them through.
“Ebeneezer?” Stryx hissed. “Really?”
“What? You are kind of grouchy. And I didn’t say which of you was Ebeneezer. You just knew, didn’t you?”
Norrix tried to divert a fight. “Where did you get the black magic? I’ve only ever seen one color of your particular type of magic before.”
Ember shrugged. “Soră must have learned it from Viktoria when we fought the spiders.”
That meant strygoi could share magic among them now. Things were changing.
The sun shone in floor to ceiling windows, illuminating rows of chairs divided by an aisle splitting them in half. As they took seats a couple rows from the back, Norrix scanned the bidders, Witnessing who was here and their conversations, always keeping part of his attention on the door. His Dragă hadn’t come to him last night, and he hoped to see her today. From the back row, Koschei gave him the barest hint of a nod. At least things were ready on that front.
The scent of apples announced his Dragă’s arrival. She took a seat behind him, and his heart tried to beat out of his back in its effort to get to her.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
MYTH
THE BIDDING ROOM HAD floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, washing the entire space in sunlight so bright she couldn’t see outside. Rows of chairs faced a stage. White and light-haired men made up most of the crowd.
Myth resisted the urge to shudder. Iqiohr had dark hair once, but the more magic he used, or took, the paler he grew. These men must have been around mages for years. They stood and sat in small groups. Mages rarely left their bases of power and never trusted each other. Their acolytes and guards performed most of the necessary interactions.
Norrix sat with the woman... No, not a woman, the Gorgon who had bumped into Myth yesterday. He clutched the woman's hand like he'd never let her go. Myth’s heart broke, sending pieces into her lungs and stopping her breath.
How could she have been so stupid? Stupid to think a future was possible. Stupid to think she was special. She knew better than that. Something hot and angry curled through her stomach, frightening her with its intensity. Feeling out of sorts, she averted her gaze. She wondered why she’d reacted to Norrix. She wondered why she wondered about Norrix at all. He already had an Esne.
Myth had to get the knife. Then she could leave and never see Norrix again. Shoving away thoughts of fairy tales that ended happily ever after, she looked for a place to sit.
A trio of pale men leered and started toward her. Own it, Clio's voice ordered. Heart beating wildly, Myth held her chin high and glared at the men. They stopped their approach and talked among themselves. That was as far as her bravery went. Her legs shook as she took a seat two rows behind Norrix, his friend and their witch.
While Norrix held the witch’s hand, she was paying attention to the dark-haired man, the two of them wrapped in one another like Norrix wasn’t there. The witch played with a lock of the man’s long black hair and his dark eyes saw only her.
“Awkward,” Norrix muttered.
Esne or not, Myth wished a man would adore her like that. She’d thought Norrix would have, but she’d left him last night and he’d already found someone new. Or maybe he already had an Esne the whole time and wanted another one.
“My Dragă.” The dark man’s voice was only meant for the woman next to him, but it carried tones of lust and promise to Myth’s ears.
Myth sighed and shifted in her seat, unfamiliar, achey sensations of want rushing through her body. She crossed, uncrossed, and recrossed her legs.
Norrix whirled in his seat and took a deep breath.
“No, now it’s awkward.” The witch laughed. “Stop using your come hither voice in public, Ebeneezer.”
“Join me?” Norrix asked Myth, waving his free hand at the empty seat next to him. “Please save me from these two. You’re my only hope.”
“We’ll behave if you sit with us,” the Gorgon promised. She didn’t sound frightened of the men at all.
These three did not act at all appropriately in public. Unless the men were tricking their witch by letting her act out and saving their punishments for later. Two more white-haired men staring at Myth from across the room made up her mind. Their white eyes reminded her of Iqiohr when he was going to play a game with her — one she couldn’t win. They started towards her.
Rising to her feet, Myth scurried to the aisle and scooted into Norrix’s row. She sat next to him, but recoiled when he offered her his hand. “You can’t touch me. You’ll be skinned!”
Plus, he was holding the hand of that other witch. Somehow, that felt worse. Like a betrayal.
Norrix frowned, but before he could reply, a short man wearing a red coat with gold buttons, a red top hat, and carrying a short carved wooden walking stick strode onstage and made his way to the dais. He climbed a few steps to reach a microphone mounted on a podium.
Myth tried not to stare. There were so many things here she’d only heard about. From stories passed through her mother, the only thing this man could be was a leprechaun.
He opened the auction without preamble. “First, we have a necklace from Albion.”
Myth inhaled as magic swept over her. Blinking, she resisted the lure of the Iruvian lilt the auctioneer spoke in. Several attendees around her fixed avid gazes on the man, their hands twitching, ready to raise their tokens to bid.
“Said to have belonged to The Lady of the Lake herself.” The leprechaun’s hypnotizing voice rolled through the room. “The legend goes the necklace will make its wearer unfathomably loved. We are accepting red bids for this item.”
Ebeneezer leaned close to his witch. “Would you like that necklace?”
She smacked his chest. “Ha! If you loved me any more, I’d have to murder you.”
Myth stiffened, not wanting to see the man punish the witch for her impudence, but he only smiled and Norrix laughed.
Attendees waved red tokens in the air. The auctioneer didn’t bother calling out numbers, just aimed his shillelagh at each bidder. He paused on one token and several hands went down. A war between three bidders resulted in the stick moving in a blur until two bidders gave up. A small rainbow appeared over the winner’s head.
“Sold! Next we have Osiris’ coffin. Anyone enticed into it will have immortality. But beware! It can only be opened from the outside.”
A flurry of activity filled the room as tokens shot up. Ebeneezer won the bidding for the coffin. Myth shuddered. Being an Esne was bad enough, but as an immortal? A mage could drain a witch to death over and over. She pitied Ebeneezer’s witch, who must not understand what that meant. She pulled part of her mask up and kissed the dark man.
“Sunshine in a bottle, enchanted to renew daily, and a set of stakes made from a variety of woods, dipped in magic, including a crossbow to fire them long distance.” Ebeneezer won the bidding for those. He needed to protect himself from vampires? It was true mages hated some of them.
“An Esne collar and bracelets. They can compel silence and block magic. The chain can be attached to anything.” These caused a stir among the white-haired men.
Norrix’s Esne sat up straight and tightened her fingers in her men’s hands. Maybe she did know something after all.
The mage minions bid furiously, the battle going on for an enti
re minute of silent pointing by the leprechaun. One of the white-haired men won and gave her a wink when he caught her looking at him.
“The formula for an aphrodisiac that compels obedience and increases fertility.”
Myth shuddered. It sounded like the gel Iqiohr used on her. Please let it not have worked last time he used it. Please. Who she could pray to, she didn’t know. Where she lived, Iqiohr was god, but maybe here someone would listen. It seemed like there were gods and goddesses everywhere.
The next half hour took an eternity to pass, but finally the knife was next. Her palms sweat and her chest tightened. The last few items had garnered little interest. Myth hoped the knife was the same. She had no idea how much she had to bid with.
“The next item... oh, I see the book and knife were removed from the auction last minute by private arrangement.” The leprechaun ran his finger down his list. “That makes the next item the Gem of Kukulkan, which controls the air itself.”
Myth’s vision tunneled, and the world dropped her into an abyss. What? No, this couldn't be happening. Her heart sank and an icy dread constricted her breath. What was she supposed to do now? She put a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from making a sound. Iqiohr hadn’t given her any instructions for what to do if the knife wasn’t available. He wouldn’t understand this wasn’t her fault. He would hurt Fable.
She ran her eyes over the crowd. Was the buyer here? Could she buy it from them? The leprechaun hadn’t pointed at anyone and no rainbow appeared. Her gaze was drawn once again to Norrix. He winked at her.
Him! She’d met him in front of the book and knife. She watched the rest of the items as each sold, numb with despair. Dread coiled in her stomach, the sensation of a thousand tiny scorpions stinging her.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
NORRIX
HIS DRAGĂ’S APPLE SCENT lost its sweetness and her heart thudded erratically. She sat ramrod straight, hands clenched in the fabric of her white dress on her thighs. The need to reassure her had him lifting a hand to cover hers, but she flinched and he dropped his hand to his lap. She said before he’d be skinned. What the hell kind of place did she live in?
The leprechaun’s words caught Norrix’s attention. “Now we have the Book of Thoth. Its magic, should you unlock it, will allow you to see gods and speak in the languages of animals.”
What was that doing up for auction? Norrix won the bidding for the book, but could hardly pay attention to what was going on around him. He caught the faintest tinge of salt from his Dragă. Tears? What did she want with a strygoi book and that black knife? Could she know something about Baba Yaga’s ballerina? The thought of the black knife made his memories itch.
“A machete edged with silver, spelled never to dull.”
“A firebird feather.”
“A set of batrachite, stones containing antidote to poisons.”
Norrix won those. Snake stones had healing capabilities, and given it was the Spider Mage who had put Musette into her coma, any antidote might be a way to wake her.
“Our final offering for this auction is a carpet enchanted by Djinn.”
Ember came to life at this, her arm shooting up. He should have expected this after her reaction to Clio’s magic carpet last night.
The bidding was crazy as attendees waved tokens of all colors in the air. The leprechaun's shillelagh blurred it moved so fast, ending up on Ember, who whooped as a rainbow appeared over her head.
When the auction ended, Norrix followed Ember and Stryx as they made their way to the front to collect the items they’d won.
Ember hugged her new magic carpet to her chest like a beloved pet. The carpet didn’t seem to mind, but Norrix didn’t trust it. Anything to do with Djinn was capricious. They made arrangements for everything else to be delivered to the jet except for the book and knife. Stryx accepted the book and handed the knife to Norrix, splitting the items to see if one attracted more attention than the other.
He turned to his Dragă. Myth had followed them, and the stricken look on her face nearly did him in. She stared at the knife in his hand. Memories scratched at his consciousness. What was it about this blade? A scrap of obsidian. Why was it important?
But if Myth only wanted the knife, that meant she didn’t care about the book. She wasn’t the one who knew about the ballerina and in no danger from Koschei.
Norrix reached for her arm, but she flinched. Her eyes darted to a mage minion, who watched her from a nearby chair. The temptation to give her whatever she wanted almost compelled him to hand over the knife, but he held on to it, letting a selfish urge offer hope of seeing her one more time. “We’re being watched and can’t talk freely here. We’ll be here a few more hours yet. Find me if you want the knife.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
MYTH
MYTH TOOK A DEEP BREATH and knocked on the door louder than she meant to, need and nerves making her hand heavy. She almost laughed — Norrix would probably think a pixie banged on his door. The key was hot in her palm, so this was the right place, but it felt too familiar to use it. She pounded on the door again before she lost her courage.
The door opened, and Norrix stood in front of her. He wore only a towel low on his hips. He had another towel on his head, rubbing it to dry his hair. His damp skin glowed, and a drop of water slid from his shoulder down his chest. Shocked at herself, Myth realized she wanted to taste it. She licked her lips.
“Ember, I thought we agreed—” Norrix draped the towel over his shoulder. “Myth. You’re here. I was hoping you would come.”
Myth dropped her eyes from the water sliding across so much skin to the carpet, but found herself focused on his bare feet. There were drops of water there, too. He had strong feet with long toes. She raised her eyes to his calves and thighs. The towel did little to hide an erection. He was expecting Ember. Norrix was planning to use his vessel. How did he treat her? Like the men treated witches or like an Esne?
An unfamiliar, bitter sensation roiled in her stomach. Did his witch like being with him? She didn’t seem scared of Norrix, but a lot of people thought Myth wasn’t afraid of Iqiohr, either. Norrix’s Esne talked back to the men, but she wore clothes that hid even her face from view. Maybe they weren’t nice to her, and she had to hide the damage that way. Maybe she just wasn’t broken yet. Myth hoped the witch got away before that happened and wished she was as strong.
“Are you all right?” Norrix opened the door wider, extending an arm to invite her in. “Come in.”
Her gaze swept over Norrix’s stomach, so bumpy with muscles. She clenched her hands at her sides to avoid reaching out to touch the ridges and dips. Above his muscles, his chest was flat, but his arms and shoulders curved. She wanted so badly to touch Norrix and for him to touch her. This was dangerous. Iqiohr would skin Norrix and make her watch.
“Hello?”
Gaze flying past lips formed into a smile, she met his eyes. He was laughing at her. Amused at her desperation. She flushed, feeling the heat flow from her middle all the way to her face. Clearing her throat, she found her voice. “I need the knife you won at the auction. I can’t go home without it. Please. I’ll do anything.”
His eyes darkened, and he leaned forward, so close his breath tickled her ear. “Really, Myth? Anything?” He made the word have three slow syllables that made her shiver. She’d thought his voice was dangerous before, but when he said her name not only did more parts of her awaken, she needed more. She ached for him in places and ways she never had for Iqiohr.
Myth nodded and scooted past him into the room before she could change her mind. His room wasn’t anything like hers. Where she had two bedrooms, he had one big room divided into sections. One open door led to a bathroom, the second a closet. No white clothes anywhere, only black.
A fireplace with a black sofa and low table in front of it. A big bed made up with green pillows and bedspread, and two night stands in a corner. No kitchen, but a rectangular table with six chairs situated in front of a window show
ing the glaciers outside. Bookshelves lined every wall, packed full of books, statues, and little boxes. No grass on the floor for him, only dark wood that matched the bookcases.
“I know you’re ready to use your vessel, but you can... use me instead. You can do what you want. I’ll... I’ll be good for whatever you like.” Would he beat her? Maybe he would give her a scar that let her mind go somewhere else when she looked at it. The pain would be worth retrieving the knife, but Iqiohr would see the marks on her body and punish her when she returned to Aztlan. No, she had to hope whatever Norrix did to her didn’t leave any proof behind.
Her breathing picked up. Her blood ran fast and hot in her veins. On the verge of a panic attack, pulse pounding, she turned to examine the room. She’d never done this with anyone other than Iqiohr before, but all the men in Aztlan seemed to like it even if the women didn't, and she needed the knife. She could do this. She had to, so she could go home before Iqiohr found out she had lost the knife, or what she had to do to get it back.
The bed seemed too personal. Myth walked to the dining room table and bent over it. Pulling her dress up to expose herself, she closed her eyes and hoped it would be quick.
Behind her, Norrix took a deep breath and closed the door.
NORRIX
WHAT. THE FUCK. WAS happening!
Norrix blew out his breath. Since the end of the auction, he hadn’t been able to get Myth out of his mind. A cold shower had calmed his body down, until she appeared at the door like he’d conjured her. He’d scented arousal as she stared at his body, which undid everything the cold shower had done for him.
But now her mouthwatering, hot apple scent had soured. Not to the point of rotten, like when she’d fled right after they met, but that change, combined with the metallic odor of fear seeping from her skin, near hyperventilation, and too fast heartbeat, meant she didn’t want to have sex.
Myth's Legend: Norrix Page 16