Rhapsodic (The Bargainer Book 1)

by Laura Thalassa

  When Des’s eyes fall on me, they soften. “Apologies, cherub, for the wrench in our evening. I’ll drop you back off at your dorm. Get in.”

  I head to the car and slide into the front passenger seat, the interior smelling like stale cigarette smoke.

  More begging comes from the back. “Please, you don’t understand,” Stan says, leaning forward, “I have a family.”

  “You have an estranged girlfriend and two children whom you don’t spend time or money on. Trust me, they’re better off without you.” The Bargainer pulls onto the dark road.

  “I don’t want to die.” Stan begins to weep.

  “Then tell me what I need to know,” Des says.

  “You don’t understand,” Stan whines, “he’ll do worse things than kill me.”

  Once again the darkness expands around Des. “You know who I am, Stan,” the Bargainer says, his voice icy. “My reputation precedes me. So you’ve heard of what’s happened to past clients who’ve tried to stiff me.”

  More sobbing.

  “And they paid,” Des says, his voice ominous. “Before they died, they paid.”

  Oh shit.

  Stan weeps harder, and when I look over my shoulder at him, a snot bubble has formed in one of his nostrils.

  That’s just wrong.

  “Please,” he begs, softer, “please. I have … I have a family. I have …”

  Maybe it’s the snot bubble, maybe it’s the fact that a grown-ass man is being cowardly, and maybe it’s that I have to sit in a smelly car and thus can’t eat my macaroons in peace, but this man is kind of ruining my entire night by being difficult.

  I will the siren out, a soft glow rushing over my skin as I turn my body around to face Stan.

  “Cherub—” Des warns.

  Too late.

  “Fulfill your oath to the Bargainer and tell him what he needs to hear,” I command, glamouring the Bargainer’s client. “Now.”

  Stan spends a good several seconds fighting his mouth, but it betrays him. He begins to cry even as he says, “They call him the Thief of Souls. I don’t know his real name, or the name of the people that do his dirty work.”

  Next to me, the Bargainer’s mouth is a thin, angry line.

  “He has many bodies and none at all …” His voice dies away into sobs. Somewhere in there I hear him mumble, “You bitch.”

  Des slams on the brakes and the car skids to a halt. A moment later, he’s out of the car, hauling Stan out by his hair. He drags the man into the darkness, and I can tell he cloaked himself in shadows by the way the night deepens.

  I hear Stan shriek, and the meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh. Then that, too, grows distant. Finally, there’s silence. Several minutes go by like that, and I’m halfway convinced that the Bargainer forgot about me.

  But then, out of seemingly nowhere, Des lands a dozen feet away from the passenger side of the car, rubbing his knuckles.

  “You flew!” I say, amazed. He also did God knows what to Stan, but I’m not going to linger on that.

  The Bargainer wouldn’t kill him. Right?

  Des doesn’t respond to my words, and it’s only as he gets closer that I realize he’s pissed.

  He opens my door and pulls me out, holding me close. “Don’t ever do that again, cherub.” His chest is heaving. “Never again.”

  The glamour?

  “But I helped you,” I say.

  He squeezes my arms, a muscle feathering in his cheek. “You put a target on your fucking back.”

  I still don’t understand. “I did the same thing in Venice.”

  “Which was also problematic,” he says, “but this is different. You made a man talk who was willing to die for his silence.” He lets that hang in the air.

  He was willing to die for his silence.

  A sliver of fear blooms. I haven’t been taking Des’s bargains seriously. The proof runs up my wrist. To me they always felt like games. Macabre, violent games, but games nonetheless.

  And games aren’t real.

  But this is real, and because I interfered, I might’ve ruined someone’s life—well, ruined it more than it already was.

  Des clenches his jaw. “How many girls can glamour someone? Just think about that for a second.”

  I don’t know.

  He leans in close. “Precious few.” His eyes narrow. “Do you know what happens if someone comes after that man? If that someone didn’t want Stan to talk in the first place? They’re going to torture him, and what allegiance does Stan have to you? He’s going to squeal as soon as he can, and then whoever he was so afraid of is going to come after you.”

  Jesus.

  “I can make him forget,” I say, my voice rising. “Just bring him back to me.” I peer over Des’s shoulder and into the darkness.

  “Making him forget won’t change the situation,” the Bargainer says. “If the wrong person were interested enough, they could sense your glamour even without the aid of Stan’s memory. And then they could trace it back to you.”

  I feel my nausea rising. Not just on my own behalf, but because my meddling might’ve screwed over Stan and Des as well.

  The kicker of it all is that I thought the Bargainer would be impressed—proud even. I’d proven myself useful.

  I let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

  Des’s eyes search mine, and little by little his anger evaporates. He pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s not your fault,” he says, deflated. “I should never have brought you along. I was a fool to let you convince me in the first place.”

  I go rigid beneath him. As screwed up as it is, I like coming along with him.

  “I want to keep coming along with you,” I say.

  “I know, cherub. But neither of us can live like this.”

  His words make my heart pound harder, though I’m not sure if I feel dread or excitement. I guess it all depends on his reasons.

  “Like what?” I ask.

  He just squeezes me harder. “Nothing. Forget I mentioned it at all.”

  Present

  I wake to near darkness. A large leg has been thrown over mine and an arm is wrapped around my midsection.

  Des.

  Sometime during the final Harry Potter movie I fell asleep in his arms, my body spooned against his. And in the hours since, I’ve been reeled in tight against his chest, his body nearly encasing mine.

  My clothes are still on, as are his, and yet something about this feels incredibly intimate.

  I rub my eyes, dazedly taking in the dim room. Des’s shadows lurk in every corner, the sight of them makes me feel … safe.

  I begin to move, only for Des’s grip to tighten on me, pulling me even closer. I let out a little squeak. I’m an overgrown man’s teddy bear at the moment.

  The Bargainer stirs, nuzzling the back of my head. “You awake?” he asks, his voice sleep-roughened.

  Instead of answering, I angle my head up and look into his eyes. Gone is the calculating edge to them, gone is his wiliness. Gone are the shields he hides behind.

  Right now he’s just a tired, happy man.

  He reaches up and runs a thumb over my lower lip. “I lied to you earlier, cherub, sleep does very much become you.”

  I feel my face heat. I don’t know how he sees my reaction in the darkness, but his eyes move to my cheeks. “As does blushing.”

  Tentatively I reach out and run my hand through Des’s white locks. “Tell me another secret,” I say.

  His mouth twitches. “You give a siren a secret … and she asks for another.”

  “You have so many of them,” I say. “Don’t be a Grinch.”

  He lets out a long-suffering sigh, but the effect is ruined by the s
mile spreading across his lips.

  He leans in close. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but if you want a secret …”

  I wait.

  “You drooled all over my chest during the second movie,” he confesses. “To be honest, I thought you were crying again.”

  I push at him, laughing in spite of myself. “That’s not what I meant when I asked for a secret!”

  He rolls onto his back, hooking an arm around my waist and taking me with him. And now he’s beginning to laugh as well. “I don’t make the rules, cherub, I just bend them.”

  I straddle him, leaning in close. “I should be an exception.” I don’t even know what makes me say it, but it’s too late to take it back.

  I expect Des to raise an eyebrow and spin my words with that silver tongue of his.

  Instead, his face sobers, his expression turning serious. “You are.” His eyes drop to my mouth, his fingers pressing into my skin.

  Most of the time this man leaves me confused. But not right now. Right now he and I are on the exact same page.

  Slowly, I lower my head, and I press my mouth to his.

  What’s better than waking up with Des in the morning?

  Kissing Des in the morning.

  My lips skim over his, savoring the taste of him. He pulls me closer, making a guttural noise as he deepens the kiss, working his tongue into my mouth.

  This feels like unfinished business. He and I are that storm on the horizon, but now, finally, that storm is rolling in.

  I move against him, wanting more, impatient for it.

  “Callie,” he says, his voice strained, “can’t do that, love.”

  There it is again.

  Love.

  “Say that again.”

  “Love?”

  I nod, pressing myself tighter to him. “I like the endearment.” I move against him again despite his warnings.

  He makes a pained sound.

  “So do I,” he breathes.

  Slipping a hand between us, I unbutton his pants and dip a hand in.

  “I really like it.”

  Des hisses out a breath.

  “Careful,” he warns against my lips. His eyes say an entirely different thing. They’re daring me to go further.

  I break away from his mouth. “What if I don’t want to be careful?” I say, grabbing hold of him. My breathing deepens at the feel of him. Never have I done this with him. It feels righter than our kiss.

  “What if I don’t want you to be careful?” I punctuate my words by moving my hand up and down. Up and down.

  He rocks against me.

  I lean in close. “The tough Bargainer isn’t so tough anymore.”

  “Callie—”

  “Love,” I correct, the siren beginning to seep into my words.

  “Love,” he says, “I was planning this … the other … way … around.”

  “Too bad,” I say.

  “Wicked woman,” he says, his mouth curving into a smile.

  I’m tempted to bring him to the edge, only to stop. That’s what the siren wants. Enjoy his lust, and then make him suffer.

  But a bigger part of me wants to see this through to the very end. This man that left me, but agonized over it. This love who seemed jealous of my exes. This usually polished king that’s going to come in his pants because I want him to fall apart under my touch.

  I watch him with awe, my eyelids lazy. His high cheekbones are even sharper at this angle, his crafty eyes focused on my face as his hands squeeze my thighs.

  “Too good, Callie—”

  I move my hand faster.

  He hisses out another breath, his hands moving over me like they’re trying find exactly what they want to touch but can’t decide. Eventually, they settle on my hips.

  I work him, feeling his body tense beneath me.

  He groans. “Going to come …”

  I lean in and kiss him as he jerks against me, again and again and again. His fingers tighten against my flesh, trying to pull me closer to him.

  I smile against his mouth when I finally feel him relax.

  He breathes heavily against me, leaning his forehead against mine. “You want to know a real secret?” he rasps.

  I nod against him.

  “I want to wake up to you every single morning.”

  This time when we head to the Otherworld, I know the drill.

  We crossover, arriving at another set of fae ruins—this one a stone circle made up of statue after statue of solemn fae men and women—before Des flies us to his palace.

  He holds me close, and I catch him more than once staring at me with an unguarded look in his eyes.

  Like he wants more of me.

  I never gave him the chance earlier. Right after he came, I slipped away from his bed.

  Why did I run? Perhaps because I was scared of what I did to our relationship. And perhaps because I wanted to give him something to fixate on, the same way I’ve fixated on his confession last night.

  Only, now I’m beginning to fixate on this morning too. With every heated look he gives me and every silent promise in his eyes that he’s going to finish what I’ve started.

  The fae king is hungry, and he’s used to getting what he wants.

  I try to focus on the task at hand—visiting the sleeping warriors—but it’s no use. I’m more aware of the Bargainer than ever.

  We break through the cloud cover, and once again I catch sight of that magnificent city of his.

  “What’s it called?” I ask, nodding to the Bargainer’s floating city.

  “Somnia,” he replies, his breath tickling the shell of my ear. “The land of sleep and small death. The capitol of my kingdom.”

  The land of sleep and small death. That sounds dark and magical … which is Des in a nutshell.

  He banks sharply to the left, circling the city as we begin to descend. People creep out onto their terraces and into the streets to watch us land. More gather outside the gates in front of the castle.

  “The next biggest city,” the Bargainer continues, “is Barbos, then it’s Lephys, then Phyllia and Memnos—sister cities connected by a bridge. Arestys is the smallest, poorest …” His expression darkens.

  “Are they all floating cities?” I ask.

  “They are.”

  “I want to see them.”

  What am I saying? Surely that didn’t come from my mouth? The last thing I want to do is spend more time in the Otherworld.

  Des looks down at me.

  “… Starting with Arestys,” I add breathlessly.

  Seriously, Callie, you crazy bitch, stop talking.

  But I can’t, not when he’s looking at me like that.

  “Then I’ll take you to them all,” he says, his silver eyes shining like he can’t get enough of my words.

  I might as well have hammered the last nail in my coffin myself.

  Just had to open your mouth …

  Des soars over the front of the castle, and unlike the grand entrance we made last time, the two of us land softly on one of the palace’s back terraces.

  He eases me to my feet before his wings disappear.

  “No fancy entrance this time?” I ask.

  “Tonight I didn’t want to share you.” His wings shimmer out of existence as he speaks.

  Just as his wings disappear, his simple bronze circlet materializes. Under the black T-shirt he wears, I see the lowest of the three bronze war bands appear as well.

  I smile at the sight of him, my crooked king, with his frayed shirt and simple crown. Right now he looks neither fae nor human. He looks like something better than either.

  Casually, he takes my hand and leads me inside the palace. We
head down a wide hallway and through a room full of swords and scepters on display.

  The fae we pass don’t spare a glance at Des’s attire, though they themselves wear embroidered dresses and tunics and suits with fancy buttons and beadwork.

  What his subjects do stare at is me. Me and my hand, clasped in the king’s. When I catch them looking, they bow low, murmuring Your Majesty to us as we pass.

  I’m antsy to remove my hand, if only to stop them from staring. Des, meanwhile, is unfazed by any of it.

  He leads me outside the palace, down a suspended arched walkway that connects two of the castle’s spires, and I have a moment to take in the sweeping architecture of this place. The palace sits at the highest point of Somnia, the rest of the buildings dropping away on all sides.

  From here the world looks to be made up of thousands and thousands of stars, each one brighter than the last. Beneath us, levels and levels of white stone houses dot the land, some even trailing down chasms cut into the city. It gives a whole new meaning to the fae term under the mountain.

  Once again I’m struck by how magical, how impossible, this place is. The city of dreams and small deaths looks like something from a dream. Something I’m sure I’ll wake from.

  The two of us enter another tower, leaving the night sky once more. Des steers us down several more hallways until, eventually, we stop in front of a hammered bronze door, the top of it curved like a Moroccan archway, and he ushers me inside.

  As soon as I step in, I realize where we are.

  The king’s quarters.

  I should’ve known from the door alone we were heading here, but I mistakenly assumed the Bargainer was taking me straight to see the sleeping women.

  A plush sitting room spreads out before me, and beyond it, a large balcony. Off to the left I catch a glimpse of bedroom furniture. To the right is something like a dining area.

  Bronze lamps are mounted along the walls, those same starbursts of light I saw last visit floating inside each glass case.