Rhapsodic (The Bargainer Book 1)

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Rhapsodic (The Bargainer Book 1) Page 10

by Laura Thalassa


  We’d been together a whopping six months. I’m still getting used to the fact that he has a toothbrush in my bathroom.

  This entire relationship, he’s been pushing. Pushing for more touching, more intimacy, more openness—just more.

  He pauses long enough to look me in the eye. “For you to be my mate.”

  I might be the most awful person in the world because at his words, I shudder. Not the good kind of shudder either.

  “Um.” I can’t edge away from him, caught in his arms as I am. He’s not even acting human at the moment. Eli’s touchy-feely in general, but he’s never like this—never crazed with the need to mark and claim me as his.

  My eyes slide to the window, where dusk is setting in. “We should talk about this when we aren’t close to the full moon.” When I know you’re not going to go big bad wolf on me.

  His chest rumbles with his disapproval. “I don’t want to talk about this, Callie. I don’t want to analyze what I feel for you. I want you to say yes, and then I want to fuck you until you’re saying my name like a mantra.”

  That right there is how this man managed to end up in my bed in the first place. That’s sexual manipulation. Or oral—or I don’t freaking know, but he definitely knows how to win over the siren.

  “I have a ring,” he says, kissing my jaw, his fingernails shifting into claws, then back to human nails. “Shit,” he says, a bit of his human side peeking out, “none of this is coming out right. Just, be mine.”

  A grown man as sexy as Eli can’t just say stuff like that. My lady bits want to overthrow my brain.

  “Please, Eli,” I say as he rubs his cheek against mine, masking me in his scent. “We need to talk about this.”

  Wait. What am I saying?

  This isn’t a negotiation. There’s nothing to talk about. When you end a relationship, you don’t owe the other person an explanation, crappy though that may be.

  Besides, I already gave him one.

  His chest rumbles. “Fine, we’ll talk later.”

  He resumes kissing me with the same animalistic passion he entered my home with. Only now, it’s even sharper than usual. The man’s giving way to the beast even as the sun sets.

  I don’t know what to do. I ended my relationship with this man. He’s acting like it never happened.

  I pull away long enough to say, “We broke up.”

  “I thought about it after we talked.” He kisses me, then pulls away again. “What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t stand by you when you needed me?”

  The alpha in him is telling me that that’s the end of the conversation, and for a few moments I get dragged under.

  I blink through the haze of his dominance, the same dominance he’s been throwing around since he swept me up in his arms, I just hadn’t noticed it then.

  He doesn’t get to decide we’re back together. And even if he’s okay with me receiving attention from two men at the same time—and an alpha would never settle for being second fiddle—I’m not.

  His hands are beginning to roam. This is escalating way too quickly.

  “Wait, Eli,” I say. But he’s not listening to my words, he’s listening to my body, and my body’s sort of enjoying the heavy petting.

  “Eli,” I say again, even as the siren surfaces.

  His hand dips into my pants and—

  “Eli, stop.” My voice hits multiple notes as I force the siren into it.

  Eli stills, obeying the command in my voice.

  I bent an alpha to my will. Not good not good not good.

  But more than that, I just glamoured Eli, the man who proclaimed to love me. A bounty hunter who works on the right side of the law.

  I’m fucked in every way but the one I’d actually enjoy.

  “Did you … glamour me?” His voice becomes so gravelly as the predator tries to take over.

  I swallow.

  I’ve glamoured Eli before. There are certain situations where that’s inevitable. But I’m always careful to avoid taking away his will. And a second ago, his will was gone.

  Behind me, the glass doors out to my balcony shatter, and the night sweeps in, darkening the room. With it comes a wave of menace so palpable my hair stands on end.

  Des steps out of the shadows, every line of his body tense. “Well, doesn’t this look cozy,” he says, taking in the two of us.

  Eli begins to growl, something so deep and sinister that my hair stands on end, and it’s not even directed at me. “You,” he says.

  “Me what, dog?” Des responds, crossing his arms.

  Dog? Did the Bargainer just guess that Eli was a shifter, or had he known? I hadn’t told him about Eli when he asked about my relationships …

  “Des,” I warn.

  Eli pushes me behind him, like the Bargainer is the one we should all be worried about right now. “Stay out of this, Callie,” he orders.

  See, now that—that was what was always wrong with our relationship. Eli taking command and assuming I’d fall in line. Which was about the equivalent of him poking a hornet’s nest with a stick.

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to give her orders,” Des says. He cocks his head. “Did you really think someone like Callypso would actually want more from you than your dick?” he says, stepping forward, bringing the night at his back in with him.

  I can feel the tug of Desmond’s magic luring me out from behind Eli, whose growl is getting louder with every passing second.

  “What can you give her besides that?” The Bargainer continues. “Intellectually stimulating conversations?” His eyes flick over all six plus feet of hulking, barely-contained shifter. “That’s a definite no. I’m sure she’s been getting that need fulfilled elsewhere.”

  Eli’s growl is so loud, I swear the house is vibrating with it.

  “If you touch her …” Eli can barely get the words out. “If you lay one hand—”

  Des flashes a sinister smile. “I have already laid a hand on her. And my mouth. And all other sorts of things—”

  Eli lets out a roar, his muscles tensing. I think he’s going to rush the Bargainer, but instead he takes a staggering step forward, his skin rippling.

  I’ve never seen the change happen in person, but oh my sweet baby Jesus, I’m about to. In less than a minute Des and I will be trapped in a room with a werewolf.

  This is why shifters stay away from non-shifters during the full moon.

  Unless, of course, they want to turn a particular non-shifter into a shifter.

  That couldn’t be why Eli’s here, could it?

  Eli knew I didn’t want to change, and even if I did, a witch should always be close at hand, just in case the change didn’t take, or the body became too weak, or any other sort of complications arose.

  But Eli hadn’t been in the right frame of mind since he arrived, his brain already more wolf than man.

  “You won’t change,” Des’s voice resonates throughout the room, and I feel the magic brush past me, forcing itself on Eli. “Not in this house, not so close to one whom you consider your … mate.”

  How much had he heard of our conversation?

  How much had he already known?

  A whine interrupts the string of deep growls coming from Eli. He turns to me, his eyes already amber. There’s nothing of the man I cared for in them. Just the feral eyes of a wolf. Yet I don’t fear him. Eli’s protective instinct is innate, and I’m part of his pack.

  But he will hurt Des. Des, who is competition, Des who is in his territory, exerting control on his—ugh—mate. Des, who I can feel staring at me. I can sense his growing need to take me away.

  “Eli,” I say quietly. I hold his gaze as shades of brown start to bleed back into his irises.

  I begin to r
elax, especially when he straightens.

  Then Eli’s head swings towards Des, and the growl erupts in his chest all over again.

  And then something makes him snap. Letting out a snarl, he charges Des.

  My heart nearly stops.

  Fear, the likes of which I haven’t felt in a long time, courses through me.

  “Eli, don’t touch him.” This time, when I use the glamour, I know what I’m doing. My voice is strong and unwavering.

  Eli stops just short of Des, bound by my magic.

  I crossed a line. I know I did.

  I don’t care. That’s the truly frightening part. I took away Eli’s free will, and all I feel is relief that Des is unharmed.

  The panic I felt, the utter terror …

  My eyes meet the Bargainer’s. His are unreadable.

  “It’s time to go, cherub,” he says while Eli chuffs in confusion mere feet away.

  I give the shifter a worried look. Eli might’ve forgiven me using glamour on him once. But twice?

  No way.

  He makes a baying sound, something that cuts me deep. “Callie, no,” he says. He’s beginning to hunch over again, his brown eyes bleeding to gold. Not even the Bargainer’s magic can hold the change back for long.

  I hesitate, realizing what this is—a crossroads. Down one path is Eli and everything he represents; down the other is Des.

  If Eli killed the Bargainer, I’d be released from my debts. Des probably deserves death. And with the Bargainer gone, I’d get another chance at life with Eli. And eventually I would become his mate. It would be so easy to just say yes, to give into a life that a thousand other women would want.

  But eventually Eli would want me to make the change. Eli had already started bringing that up —that and … pups. Shifters were big family people. I’d be his wife, mother of his many children.

  I couldn’t just be Callie; I’d have to be his Callie. I’d have to come to heel, be subservient to him, as the rest of his pack was. I’d have to put the pack first before my needs.

  Or I could leave with Des. Des, who guarantees nothing. Des, who left me all those years ago only to come roaring back into my life. Des who doesn’t want to change me.

  Des, who’s offered me nothing but hope and heartache. Des, my friend. Des, my mystery.

  Des.

  Des.

  And there is my answer.

  Eli was someone’s dream, but … but he wasn’t mine.

  “I will always care for you, Eli,” I say, “but you need to go back to your people.”

  “Callie.” His voice breaks.

  His pain’s shattering me. I don’t want him to hurt.

  Shadows gather around me. Suddenly, Des is wrapping his arm around my waist. “Cherub, we need to go.”

  Seeing us together is Eli’s final straw. His eyes become wholly golden, and they lose their spark of human intelligence. Hair sprouts along his skin. His back bows, his muscles rippling. He throws his head into the air and howls, the sound making every nerve of mine stand on end.

  Night air swirls around me as Des tugs me towards my backyard.

  When Eli drops to all fours, I throw caution to the wind, and run, grabbing Des’s hand and hauling him with me.

  The Bargainer scoops me into his arms just as a spine-chilling howl fills the air behind us.

  “Hold on,” Des says as Eli lopes towards us.

  Geez, that is a big fucking wolf.

  The Bargainer’s body tenses, and then he pushes off the ground.

  I catch a glimpse of Eli’s wolf lunging after us, his teeth snapping at empty air where a second ago Des’s ankle was.

  I hear the mournful howls long after we’re airborne, the sound haunting.

  I lean my head into Des’s chest, feeling his hands tighten around me.

  For better or for worse, I’d chosen him.

  And I still don’t regret it.

  Chapter 10

  January, seven years ago

  “Why don’t you take me with you?” I ask.

  The Bargainer and I sit inside Douglas Café, the warm light illuminating our surroundings. Outside it’s begun to snow.

  Des leans back in his seat, stirring his coffee idly. “To collect payment from my clients?” he raises his eyebrows. “Not going to happen.”

  “Why not?” I ask. Or I try to ask—it comes out more like a whine. I have to stifle a wince. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m immature.

  “Cherub, have you ever considered the possibility that there are things about me I don’t want you to see?”

  “I’m not innocent, Des,” I say. “I already know what you do.” I’d seen it firsthand the first time I called on him. “Add a bead. Let me come along.”

  He leans forward, jostling the table as he does so. “You foolish girl,” he growls as I reach forward and steady my cup. “Those beads aren’t a joke.”

  “If you’re so against them, then stop handing them out like candy.” I know my words will just bait him, but part of me—the wilder, cursed part—wants to see Des lose control.

  Des’s face sharpens. “You want to know what my favors will eventually cost you? Fine. I’ll show you. Maybe then you’ll stay far away.” He downs the rest of his coffee and stands, his chair screeching behind him as he does so.

  Wait? We’re doing this now?

  When I don’t immediately get out of my seat, he waves his hand.

  My chair begins to tilt, forcing me to stand. Around us no one notices.

  I barely have time to grab my coat and the last of my macaroons before he takes my hand and drags me out of there.

  Outside, snow catches in my hair as we head down the street. Almost immediately the cold seeps into my clothes. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

  Shadows of Des’s making curl around us like smoke.

  He doesn’t speak to me the entire walk back to Douglas Cemetery, where the closest entrance to the ley lines is.

  Ley lines are essentially supernatural highways. Across the world there are certain wrinkles and tears in the fabric of our world, which are entry points, or portals, onto these ley lines. From there, if you were a certain type of creature—say a fairy or demon—who knew how to manipulate these ley lines, you could move through worlds and between worlds. That last bit is precisely how Des could be a king in the Otherworld, then come to Earth and bargain with mortals.

  When we get to a particularly old section of the cemetery, the headstones so old and weathered most of the names and dates have been worn away, he pulls me close, his jaw clenched. His stormy eyes stare down at me. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Before I have a chance to say anything, our surroundings disappear. A moment later buildings and canals replace tombstones.

  I stare around us with wonder. “Venice,” I breathe.

  I always wanted to visit. And at the snap of the Bargainer’s fingers, we were here.

  Perks of being friends with a fae king.

  “Stay close,” he warns.

  “It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” I mumble, trailing after him. He practically had my hand in a chokehold.

  The two of us wind through back alleys, and I wrinkle my nose at the smell of sewage. When we get to a small, weather-worn door, Des stops.

  I glance over at him. His jaw’s clenched, his silver eyes icy.

  Still pissed.

  Moody fairy. It’s not like he had to take me. He’s a king for Christ’s sake; I’m sure no is the first word in his vocabulary.

  I hear a lock tumble, pulling me out of my thoughts, and then the door in front of us swings open of its own accord.

  Beyond it is a dark hallway. Exactly the kind of place you don’t visit if you want to stay out of tr
ouble. Which I guess is why the Bargainer’s decided to come here.

  Des steps into the hallway, pulling me in after him. Behind us, the door clicks shut.

  “Well, this is cozy,” I say.

  “Ssshhh, cherub,” he says, “and while we’re on the subject, try not to talk.”

  I stick my tongue at him.

  “I saw that,” he says, not turning around.

  Eyes at the back of his head, this one.

  We move deep inside the building, heading down a flight of stairs until we come to a dimly lit area that is really nothing more than a grid of pylons, cement walkways, and large, barrel-like buoys. And between the walkways and beneath the buoys is water.

  Lots and lots of water.

  Venice is sinking, I remember.

  A slick-looking man with receding hair and a huge paunch steps out from the shadows.

  “I called you an hour ago,” he says, his Scandinavian accent thick. He flicks the Bargainer’s business card out of his hand.

  Des watches it hit the ground. “I’m not your lapdog,” Des says. “Don’t like my methods, call someone else.”

  The Bargainer makes his clients wait? I sort of got the impression that he was as prompt with everyone else as he was with me.

  Now I feel like a special snowflake.

  The man jerks his chin to me “Who’s the girl?” he asks.

  “Doesn’t fucking matter. Don’t look at her,” the Bargainer says.

  But the man can’t help himself. I’m a siren, I’m made to be distracting. His eyes move over me, his expression turning hungry.

  Next to me, I feel the air begin to vibrate with Des’s power. Darkness begins to creep in the corners of the room. I don’t need to look at him to know that he’s tense.

  “Listen to what the Bargainer tells you,” I say to the man, putting power into my voice.

  Reluctantly, his eyes leave me.

  And now I feel like I need to wash my skin. Ugh, the guy is old enough to be my dad.

  “What you want?” Des asks, crossing his arms.

 

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