A Lady of the Realm (House of DeDe)

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A Lady of the Realm (House of DeDe) Page 23

by Sharon E Mamolo


  “I want to add a clause,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I know I’m your allodial, but I hate taking orders. That one reason clause we agreed to isn’t working for me. From here on out, you’ll treat me as your equal, not your subordinate. I’ll hear you out, every word, argument, or angle, you have to say before I do anything, but I don’t want to follow an order simply because I have to,” I said, my eyes lifting to his.

  He smiled sardonically. “As you wish.”

  “Thanks for the ring,” I slipped it over my right ring finger.

  His rapacious smile came back, and he tackled me to the floor. I rolled on top of him, flashing out energy to form cords that encased his arms above his head. His eyes became dark pinpoints as he slit them closed. He fought against the restraints, but they held steady.

  “Pet, you’ve been practicing.”

  “Yes, I have.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three: A Perfect Union

  On the way back to my quarters, I spied Jon coming down the hall. I was in a particularly good mood after leaving Sasha. The air around me hummed in cheerful energy. I remembered the Sugarplum sisters and my recent conversation with Malachi. I smiled at Jon, and he was taken aback. Our last meeting hadn’t gone so well. I stopped, placing a hand on his forearm.

  “May we talk?” I asked.

  He fumbled with his key at the keyhole. “Sure,” he said.

  He gestured towards his rooms when the doors opened. I stepped in and hoped that Sig wouldn’t give me an hour sermon for this.

  “I’m here as one of your constituents,” I said as I took a seat. Jon conjured up a coffee service and poured two mugs for us. I stirred in sugar, but didn’t drink any. I wasn’t repeating the same mistake.

  “I heard you and Alek are an item,” he said as he sipped his coffee.

  “The elf is charming. There’s a bill coming up I wanted to talk to you about,” I said as I blew into the mug of coffee.

  “The floor is open to all,” he said, sipping some more and crossing his legs.

  “The floor is open to scrutiny.” I placed the hot mug down and rubbed the palms of my hands on my jeans.

  “You learn fast,” he said.

  I ignored the remark. “How would you like being a slave?” I asked.

  That was the bill. It was about slaves. It was about the large population of people who were treated as slaves with the approval of everyone. The humans didn’t care; the witches were abnormal freaks. The races didn’t care; the witches were abnormal humans.

  “Luck of the draw,” he said.

  “It’s not right. It could be us. It could be our children,” I said.

  All the slaves had witch blood: my blood. That was a bit too close for comfort. Jon and I were full-blooded witches, a dying race. However, diluted witch blood thrived throughout the world. It was a huge business because they were inferior in the human and non-human world. They had no rights, anywhere.

  “House of Frimbia pays our Houses for the serfs. That means you and I will be paid,” he said. I knew that much. My talks with Malachi weren’t always philosophical. He thrived off making money.

  “We can make more money if they’re freed,” I said and sat back. This was my one chance to sway him. Money was the best inducement for civility. I couldn’t appeal to a moral right if he lost money in the exchange. The only sense of justice he felt was for his own coffers. There had to be a profit somewhere for him to see it my way.

  “How?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Ever heard of unions?” he shook his head. “It’s a human thing. The workers pay for representation. You negotiate the terms of their contracts. Since all slaves have witch blood, then all contracts should be negotiated by your House. Ask the freed slaves to pay yearly dues for you to represent them and collect commission of every placed freeman.”

  This was Malachi’s brainchild. I suspected he was humoring me and devised a way to make money and soothe me at the same time. I thought it was a great idea.

  Jon mulled it over, chewing his fingernails one at a time. He picked up his mug of coffee, drank a bit, sat it down again, and chewed some more. “Brilliant,” he finally said.

  “I thought so myself. You could open up clubs across the country recruiting witches for all kinds of work. Imagine the money just from the vamps,” I said. Vamps paid well for all kinds of services. They didn’t just need blood. They needed to be worshipped.

  “Some of the shifters like humans also. There’s a whole House which prefers to live as lap dogs,” he shuddered.

  I handed him a business card. “Malachi is a friend. I ran the idea over with him, and he likes to make money. He thinks the clubs and bars will be international. Give him a call if you’re interested,” I said as I rose.

  “That would depend on the vote tonight,” he said with a smile.

  “Yup. Nice chat, Jon. See ya later.” I headed for the door checking the time. I doubted Sig would be worried, but I still had to dress for tonight.

  “I had a vision, Beth. The allodial’s, they’re not gone. No one can expel their bloodline from the world. It’s been tried over the centuries and somehow, one of you guys always comes back to start the cycle. Good luck with your dark elf,” Jon said behind me as I opened the door. I waved goodbye and rushed through the empty halls.

  I reached my rooms and began getting ready for the evening events. It didn’t take me long to shower, run mousse through my hair, and change. Much to Sig’s disappointment, I was choosing to wear jeans and a thermal AC/DC shirt as opposed to the red evening dress he had picked out for me. I did concede to the high heels Sig had paired up with the ensemble.

  A rap on the door made me twitch on the seat I had just taken. I didn’t think Jon would come to my rooms for anything. It couldn’t be Sasha, who was most likely being fastidious in his wardrobe. Sig opened the door to reveal a marvelous looking Malachi.

  “Duckie, good to see you all dressed up for the big occasion tonight,” he said cheerily.

  He was dressed in some smart Hugo Boss suit. Looking devilishly sexy in black, I thought. Sig was also in some kind of power suit. Armani was his favorite tailor from what I’d observed. Damn vain creatures.

  “I hear you’ve added new terms to your contract,” he said as he handed me a red rose.

  “Ya’ll need a hobby,” I said under my breath. Sig and Malachi both laughed as another knock, a quiet little tap this time, interrupted my appraisal of the two very good-looking guys before me. Sig raised an eyebrow inquiringly in my direction. I shrugged noncommittally, and he opened the door. In stumbled a bloody mess.

  “Holly shit,” I said, leaping from my seat.

  “Mind your speech, Beth,” Sig said, slamming the door.

  I stood over the mess on the floor. It was the young slave girl from Jack’s House. She was bloody, her nose broken in two places, several teeth missing from the looks of it, her face beaten so badly both her eyes looked completely shut. Her peach housedress was torn on one side reveling oozing welts from a severe lashing with some kind of whip. Blood and semen smeared her thighs and buttocks. She’d been raped and beaten within an inch of her life.

  “Sig, help her,” I said to him as he knelt over her, smelling the air but not daring to touch her. The girl raised her head, turning it in my direction though I doubted very much she could see. Somehow, the girl managed to speak through her split, swollen lips.

  “They made me do it, m’lady. I didn’t want to do it, but they made me. When you didn’t die, they punished me. All the men shifted to horses or rams … they … and then they whipped me when I cried.” She whimpered softly and ceased to make another sound.

  “Jack,” Malachi said angrily, his eyes slitting dangerously as he raised them to meet mine.

  “It makes sense,” Sig said from above the dying young girl.

  I placed a hand on Sig’s shoulder, squeezing just a fraction.

  “Sig, you’ve got to get her out of here. He’s going to kill
her,” I said as I looked at the poor girl on the floor. Maybe death would be preferable.

  Sig’s eyes widened in surprise. His voice was innocent when he responded. “It’s his property, Beth. He can do with her as he sees fit.”

  I clenched my teeth in frustration. “There has to be a loophole. There’s always a loophole. Take her to my parents. She’ll be safe for now.”

  Sig shook his head immediately. “No. That could be exactly what they want. They’ll know you stole property,” he said looking back at me earnestly.

  I gritted my teeth and strived for patience. “Take her somewhere. I don’t care where as long as she doesn’t die.”

  Sig looked at me meaningfully for a second and sighed.

  “Are you ready to deal with the consequences?” he asked as he stood up and wiped his hand on a handkerchief.

  “Not now, Sig, just save her. Please. She came here to warn me. She deserves better,” I pleaded looking down at the bloody mess of what used to be a human.

  Sig nodded, sighed and ran a hand through his immaculate hair, leaving it disheveled. For Sig, this was as much agitation as I’d ever seen him show.

  “Whore. You’ve stolen my girl.” The bellow came from the hallway.

  I jumped back, and Sig snapped into action. He grabbed the girl, hissed he’d be back in an hour, and shifted out of the place with the bloody body. Malachi waved his hand in an arc, and all traces of blood were magically gone from the floor. As the pounding on the door began, I started removing my clothes and tugged on Malachi’s suit.

  “Play along Malachi, no time for you to go modest,” I whispered.

  Malachi caught on swiftly, removing everything much faster and a lot neater than I was capable of doing. I went to the door and opened it a crack to see the furious expression on Jack and several prominent members of other Houses standing outside the door. Much to my anxiety, Sasha was one of them.

  “What do you want?” I asked frostily.

  “My property. I know you have it. You’ve been after her since you first laid eyes on it. Give her over,” he snapped pushing on the door.

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Go away.” I tried shutting the door but Jack had his foot in the doorway. He thrust it open, and I made a grab for a robe. Malachi was behind me naked as a jaybird, eyes blazing in fury. When Jack saw him, he wavered. He wasn’t expecting him.

  “Lord Malachi.” He stated as he glared at him. Malachi handed me the robe and grabbed me by the waist, hauling me in front of him possessively.

  “Malachi, Jack, no need for formalities. We’re busy, what do you need?” Malachi asked never once looking at Sasha.

  A cold, steel like barrier blocked my access to Sasha’s emotional aura. I couldn’t give myself away so I tried not meeting him in the eye. Katie smirked as she cuddled up next to Sasha, her poor excuse for a dress inching up her crotch.

  “My property’s gone, and I believe she has it,” Jack said, recovering from his initial shock of seeing Malachi.

  “You’re wrong. Bugger off.”

  Sasha clasped Jack by one arm, and Katie took the other whispering loudly, “You should’ve known she’d only care about bedding not saving Jack. Come along, maybe your property simply ran into the gardens.”

  *

  Five hours later, we were all once again in the ballroom glaring at each other before the final vote of the season. Maria’s proposal to free the witches had manifested in speeches. The impassioned rhetoric from both sides was long winded.

  The shifter’s position was that compensation was ludicrous because the slaves were compensated by serving those superior to them. The races had more power and therefore should utilize the power for the betterment of the masses. So what if they used certain sub—races for their own ends? It took various members of several Houses nearly two hours to state this. I suspected they liked the slave trade a lot, and the new deal would null and void the pact.

  The mafia bankers were against it also. They spewed some propaganda about witches making a sacrifice to save thousands of endangered humans from the depravity of the freaks. They swore the sacrifices saved true human misery. The true misery they were imagining was the millions they’d lose by not supplying slaves to Jack’s people, or thousands of workers to factories around the world.

  The wolves were against it primarily because humans used animals for their needs, and no one ever said a thing to them. I could actually see their point of view. The elves were a mixed bag. Some asked for reformation saying it was antiquated. Others called for the return of golden days where everyone knew their place.

  The gargoyles were mostly united on their request to come out of the Medieval Ages. The vampires, who must be the most narcissistic group of people I’d ever met, wanted to be adored the right way. They simply loved to be loved by their subjects, and didn’t understand why others didn’t pay for the privilege. The demons and faeries were also a mixed bag.

  I studied the aura and emotional energies of the people on the council. I thought some, more than others, were actually listening to their constituents. I looked once in Sig’s direction when Lady Gail asked witches to come forward and speak. No one had the nerve to say anything. My people were a bunch of scared fools with no backbone.

  Per Sig’s advice, I abstained from making any comment, but I did throw meaningful glances in Jon’s direction. The voting commenced with Sasha who promptly said no. I was disappointed. Malachi and the demons voted yes. The wolves and Jack voted no while the gargoyles voted yes.

  The vamps voted yes and all eyes swiveled towards Jon, head of the witches in America. His cast was number eight, right before the final vote from the mafia bankers. I didn’t need to be clairvoyant to deduce the bankers would vote no. As it stood it was four for it, three against. Jon’s answer was as clear as if he’d shouted.

  “Yes.” He looked at me, and I gave him a thumbs up. He returned the gesture. The room erupted in noise as we stared at each other across the packed floor. It turned out he wasn’t a world-class jerk. He was simply an average politician.

  Sig bent over my shoulder, whispering in my ear. “I don’t know how you did it, but well done. I’m proud.” He straightened and grabbed my elbow, angling us out towards the doors.

  “It’s not right … she influenced him. She’s probably fucking her shadow as well. There’s no other explanation for the demon to accept the position.” Jack roared through the noise.

  I turned to see him pointing in my direction. His words silenced the people gathered. They looked at Jack, then at me, wondering what was going on. Sig began to glow beside me, his red eyes visible even through his typical dark sunglasses. I placed a calming hand on his arm. The feeling of intimacy was instantaneous. I was engulfed with a need to protect him. I glared back at Jack.

  “In case you haven’t noticed yet, Jack, I’m a witch. I can’t do much to you freaks.”

  The soft murmur of laughter broke the tension. Lady Gail beamed at everyone and raised her hands.

  “Lord Jon’s vote is the majority. From here on out, servitude of any kind will be compensated. We have several elite circles of willing families who perform all kinds of services for us, but they must and will be paid accordingly.

  “This concludes this year’s session. Until we meet again.” She rapped the gavel once, and it was finished.

  Sig ushered me out of the ballroom in the blink of an eye. I tried to catch Sasha’s eye, but he was talking to Malachi. Neither of the men faced my direction long enough for me to get their attention. The demon was prepared for an immediate departure following the closing of business. Our belongings had been packed and stored in his Hummer for hours. We walked out close to three in the morning for a long drive home.

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Loose Ends and Paperwork

  We arrived back at Malachi’s place in Manchac within twenty-four hours. Demons don’t need any sleep it seems. This is where, to my astonishment, I found the not so bloody or bruised young girl Sig had
saved petting the still, supine form of Peaches on the floor. She beamed at me worshipfully.

  “Thank you so much for keeping me, m’lady,” she said with her hand upon her heart.

  I stared at the painfully thin girl with lanky auburn hair falling upon her slightly bruised face. Her hazel eyes gleamed in the lamplight with tears. She didn’t seem a day past fourteen. I cleared my throat.

  “We’ll see what to do with you. For now you’ll come with me,” I said. “Sig, you’ve got our agenda for tomorrow?”

  “First thing in the morning, we’ll go and see Malachi. He should be back in his offices by then. You need to set up your own establishment in the city as soon as possible. You have your first servant with this one,” he said, pointing towards the young girl who stood mutely at the side eyeing me with such reverence, I was becoming uncomfortable.

  “How long will it take for me to settle in?” I asked him since we didn’t broach the subject on the drive back. My bank account had been depleted over the last two weeks, and now I was expected to quit my human job.

  “We have all the time in the world. You’ll pack, talk to your parents, and quit your job. After that, we’ll see.”

  I went to my bedroom as Michelle, the young lady, who said she didn’t have a name but always fancied that one so we went with the flow, made a steaming mug of hot chocolate for us. Tomorrow was soon enough for me.

  *

  Malachi was amused to see us early the next day. He said his appointments went well the night before when he met with his people. All witches were to be released from servitude by 3 p.m. EST. The ruling Houses were ready for an influx of people not knowing where to go or what to do with freedom.

  The humans who were on the payroll didn’t care much what happened as long as their checks weren’t interrupted. The mafia bankers groaned in protest as their corporations moaned they wouldn’t be able to meet their fiscal demands if they paid more than three dollars a day.

  Not surprisingly, the cities with the biggest concentration of alien races were also party central locations. Miami, New York, Atlanta, Los Angeles, Dallas, Vegas, Chicago, and of course New Orleans, were prime real estate locations for weird and unusual partygoers of dubious moral character. Enforcers were in full force to oversee a smooth transition. The released witches would have two options: remain with the House under a paid contract or take a lump sum of money and have a good time.

 

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