Dark Harmony (The Bargainer Book 3)

by Laura Thalassa

  We don’t end up striking a conversation again until we’re securely in the Day King’s private quarters. By then Janus’s wings are put away, but his fierce expression remains.

  As for what he or Des think about my little revelation, it’s hard to say. Neither of them looks surprised, but then again, fairies seem to have really good poker faces. But if I assumed we were going to talk about it in private, then I assumed wrong. Neither king broaches the subject again.

  I mean, I know I’m no Sherlock Holmes (don’t tell my clients that), but this is something, right? Right?

  Janus ushers us to a cluster of chairs. Resting between the seats is a small table with a decanter and a set of glasses.

  Well, at least there’s booze. I could use some booze.

  I take a seat, my attention drifting to a vivid mural on the wall to my left. Half of the image is painted in gold, the other in black. On one side is a golden man, rays of light emanating from his body; he holds his kneeling enemy by the throat. The captured man wears shackles on his wrists and ankles, and everything beyond him is painted in the inkiest of blacks.

  “Do you like it?” Janus asks, sitting down across from me. He reaches for the decanter between us, pouring the liquid into three glasses.

  I stare at the mural. What am I supposed to say? That the painting is just something to look at? That the most fascinating thing about it is the cute little loincloths each man wears?

  That would go over super well.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say.

  “It’s called the Banishment of Euribios,” Janus says, handing me a glass filled with emerald liquid. He hands another to Des. “It depicts the fight between Brennus, the God of Light and Order, and Euribios the God of Darkness and Chaos.”

  There’s a beat of silence, then—

  “I thought Fierion and Nyxos were the gods of light and dark?”

  Janus pours himself a glass of the same liquor. “Fierion and Nyxos came later, after the Otherworld was formed. These were the proto gods—the ones creation was born from,” he says, turning his gaze to the wall. “This captures the moment Brennus defeated his foe and banished him to the far corner of the universe. This is the moment the Otherworld came to be.”

  I tap my finger against my glass. “What about the Mother and the Father?”

  “They, too, came later. They were the children of these first gods.”

  “This is all vastly fascinating,” Des cuts in, “but perhaps we can get to the point of the visit?” He lounges in his seat, glass in hand, his legs splayed out.

  Janus drags his attention from the mural. “Do my stories bore you, Night King?”

  “Yes,” Des says flatly.

  The corner of Janus’s mouth lifts. “Fine. Onto the bloody battle.”

  “I saw you dealt with your enemies the old-fashioned way,” the King of Night says, bringing the dark green liquor to his lips.

  The Day King raises an eyebrow. “I hear yours are still living.” He leans forward. “Tell me, Flynn, how did you manage that?”

  Des’s eyes move to me, a hint of a devilish smile on his face. “I didn’t.”

  Janus follows his gaze. “Your human stopped an army?” Only now does the Day King truly study me. “Pray tell, how did that happen?”

  I narrow my eyes. Fairies as a whole think humans are beneath them. Even though I’m a siren and now a fae one at that, in many fairy’s eyes, I will always be a coarse mortal.

  “Cherub, perhaps you can give Janus a demonstration?”

  I hesitate. I don’t know what the penalty for glamouring a king is, but back on earth, that shit was a no-no.

  Janus takes a sip of his drink, watching me over the rim. “Seems your mate is not up to the task,” he goads.

  You know what, fine.

  I set my drink aside and uncross my legs, rolling my shoulders back and letting the siren wake.

  She stretches out like a cat basking in the sun. I feel my scales ripple to life along my forearms, and my wings itch to manifest.

  As soon as my skin brightens, Janus sits a little straighter, his gaze drawn to me.

  I rise to my feet, power rippling through my veins.

  “The great Day King,” I say, my voice harmonizing. “So very cocky. Stand for me.”

  Janus’s brows furrow as he rises to his feet. “What are you doing?”

  I step up to him, taking his drink from his hands and tossing it aside. The glass shatters against the mural, spraying emerald liquid everywhere. “Giving you my demonstration,” I say. “That is what you wanted from me, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he says softly, quizzically. His gaze is pinned to mine.

  I can sense his rising magic. It thickens the air, smelling like sandalwood and blazing like the sun.

  There’s one thing that fairies exert particular control and restraint over. One thing that will truly prove my power.

  “Show me your wings, Janus.”

  For a moment, nothing happens. The Day King continues to stare at me with spellbound eyes. Then he frowns and staggers a half step.

  Next to me, Des sips his drink, a delighted expression on his face.

  “How are you—” Janus breaks the sentence off with a groan. Bending forward, his wings burst from his back, the gold-tipped feathers shimmering.

  When he glances at me next, he no longer looks dazzled. Nope, the Day King is p-i-s-s-e-d.

  He stumbles towards me, his expression murderous. “How dare you—”

  “Stop,” I say.

  He freezes in place. “This is—”

  “—what I do,” I say. I step in close as he flashes me a hateful look. “I am a siren. I glamour people—and now, thanks to the lilac wine Des gave me, I can glamour fairies as well.

  “I can glamour you.” My eyes drop to his lips. “It doesn’t matter that you’re a king or a powerful fairy. Even you can fall under my thrall.”

  He frowns at me.

  “This is how I stopped an army without killing them all.

  “Now,” I say, “tell me truthfully: if I release you from my glamour, will you attack me?”

  For several seconds, Janus works his jaw, a muscle in his cheek feathering. Finally, he says, “No.”

  I back up. “Too bad,” I pout. “It’s so much fun when my victims put up a fight.”

  Janus has reverted to looking at me with curiosity and no little amount of want.

  I sit back down and grab my tumbler. “Is this safe to drink?” I ask, pointing to my glass.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh good.” I take a sip. “I release you from my glamour.”

  Janus staggers back a step. “Gods above.” Hastily, his wings disappear. “That was …”

  “Horribly invasive,” Des says. “I know. Isn’t my mate exquisite?”

  Janus takes a seat, waving his hand. His shattered glass stiches itself back together, the liquid reforming in the tumbler. It floats back into his hand, and he takes a long drink.

  “I could have you thrown in the gallows for what you just did,” he says contemplatively.

  The room darkens just a touch.

  “Is that a threat?” Des says, his voice calm. “It sounds awfully close to one.”

  “How do you even live with such a creature?” Janus asks, his gaze sliding back to me. Despite how shaken he is, he looks halfway interested.

  I smile, baring my teeth at him.

  “I try not to piss her off.”

  I guffaw at that, my skin dimming.

  “Alright,” the Bargainer concedes, “I do try to piss her off, but only because she has especially twisted ideas of revenge.”

  Janus shakes his head. “You two are a fucked up pair.”

  Chapter 16

  We spend a painful number of hours sitting in that room, going over the battles that occurred in each respective kingdom. And just when I think we’re all about ready to wrap things up, we recap things all over again. And again.

  In the countless hours that have pass
ed (there’s no sense of time here, just endless midday sun baring down on the palace), I’ve managed to throw back an alarming amount of that emerald alcohol.

  “Well, I think that’s it for now,” Janus says, rising to his feet. He looks at me with laughing eyes.

  I give him a quizzical look, then turn to Des, who’s biting back a grin as he stands.

  Why do I feel like I’ve totally missed the joke?

  I push out of my chair, staggering, then nearly falling.

  Whoo. Too much alchy. Act normal.

  “Cherub?” Des asks, grasping my forearm.

  “Hmm?”

  At least the godforsaken meeting is finally over.

  “It’s godsforsaken here,” Janus says. “We have more than one god.”

  Whoops—I said that out loud?

  “You did,” Janus says.

  Damnit. Shut up, mouth.

  Now the Day King’s lips twitch.

  “I’m still thinking out loud, aren’t I?” I say.

  “C’mon, baby siren,” Des says, escorting me out of the room. “You had fun with that liquor, didn’t you?”

  Janus calls out from behind us, “Why don’t we meet again first thing tomorrow—”

  Ewww, no more godsforesaken meetings. Pleaseandthankyou.

  “Callypso Lillis, your attendance is optional,” he says.

  Fuck on a ferry, I’m still thinking out loud.

  “Desmond,” Janus continues, “you’ll both be staying in your usual rooms. I trust you can find your way to them?”

  “We can,” Des says.

  “Good. Then you two have a pleasant evening—and please feel free to use any of the royal amenities while you’re here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Bye-bye,” I say over my shoulder, waving to Janus. “Oh, and sorry for insulting you … and glamouring you.” Even as I say it, my skin flickers, brightening and dimming at random.

  Uh oh. Just how drunk am I?

  “Very,” Des says, leading me out into the hallway.

  I groan. “Why didn’t you stop me from drinking?”

  He huffs out a laugh. “I did that once, back in Malibu. Remind me again how well that went over?”

  I let out a giggle that ends in a hiccup. “I was so mad.” Mad enough to throw my entire liquor supply at him.

  I lean into Des. “I smell like death. Why do I smell like death?”

  “Janus is burning bodies, remember?” As the Bargainer speaks, a small smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

  Oh, yeah.

  I subtly sniff myself again. Ew, I don’t just smell like death—I smell like a corpse screwed a trash can and it didn’t end well.

  Des’s lips quirk.

  “Did I just say that out loud?”

  He glances down at me, his expression mirthful. “You did.”

  “Ugh,” I whine. “Why do I keep saying everything I think?”

  I mean, my filter isn’t the best on any given day, but this is just ridiculous.

  “Callie, that dark green alcohol was aelerium liquor—it compels you to tell the truth. Or in your case … tell the world each and every little thought that crosses your mind.”

  Wait—what?

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’m sorry, when did I ever give you the impression I was forthcoming with information?”

  I lean my forehead against Des’s arm and let out another groan.

  “How long have I been speaking my mind?”

  “Just during the tail end of the meeting.”

  I don’t know what constitutes the tail end of that long-ass discussion, but the longer it dragged on, the more inappropriate my thoughts became.

  “So Janus knows I was sweating so much I was worried I’d leave a butt imprint on his chair?”

  “Yep.”

  “And that I needed to pee really, really badly?”

  “Yep.”

  “And that I wanted to bang you?”

  “Now, cherub, that one’s just a given.”

  I howl.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I whine as Des leads me through the castle.

  “We went over this already.”

  “You drank it too,” I accuse him. “Why aren’t you spilling your guts?”

  “Because I stopped at one drink.”

  Unlike me.

  “It’s a sign of good faith to drink aelerium liquor during times of trouble,” Des continues.

  It’s also a sign of good faith to let your soulmate know they’re making an ass out of themselves.

  “And also,” I say before Des has a chance to address that thought of mine, “unrelated but equally important, why the fuck is it so miserably hot here?” I gather up my hair and use it to fan the back of my neck. “Next body of water I see, I’m hopping in. Dead serious.”

  Des points at a nearby archway. “That way leads to one of the royal bathhouses.”

  “Oh my God, take me there.”

  One perk of being inebriated—walking is no longer so hellacious. I mean, that might be because halfway to the pool Des gets tired of me tripping over my own feet and decides to carry me, but what are details?

  I lean back in Des’s arms and stare up at him.

  “Hi.”

  He glances down at me, his white hair framing his face. “Hi, cherub.”

  “You’re kinda cute,” I say.

  He raises an eyebrow.

  I reach up and trace his lips. “I wouldn’t mind having little mini Des’s running around. Someday, that is. Not today, but you know, in-the-future—hey, if I’m cherub, what would you call our kids? Is there a name for baby-baby angels?”

  “Hmm,” he says, assessing me with his bedroom eyes, “I’m sure I’d call them something different, love. Now, eager as I am to have this conversation, I’m not going to make any plans with you until I know you’ll be able to remember them.”

  My head lolls a little. “You want to have baaaabies with me,” I sing. “Lots and lots and lots of … baaaabies with me.” I kick my legs a little as I say the words, my skin brightening and dimming.

  This alcohol is really laying into me now that I’m free of that boring meeting.

  I flash the Bargainer a cheesy smile, reaching up to play with his hair.

  He gives the ceiling of the bathhouse a long-suffering look. You’d almost think time had rewound eight years ago, back when I was striking deals …

  I sit up a little straighter in his arms. “Hey!” I hiccup. “Let’s make a d—”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  He quiets me with a kiss. A long, drawn out kiss that causes my toes to curl and my skin to flare to life. My siren surges through me, and suddenly the kiss has 110 percent of my focus. I wrap a hand around the back of Des’s neck and fall into the taste of him.

  So damn hot. Him, this room, the kiss, this kingdom in general. All of it.

  Before I have a chance to turn the kiss into something deeper, it ends.

  I stare up at him. “I still have to pee really, really badly.”

  He huffs out a laugh. “Callie, the Killer of Moments.”

  “Hey! You’re the Moment Killer.”

  “Am I now?” he says.

  He sounds amused.

  “That’s because I am amused,” he replies.

  “Ugh, when will this alcohol wear off?”

  “Probably not for a while—you drank a lot of it.”

  Awesome.

  Des walks us to a door, pushing it open with his body, and then he muscles us into a fancy little bathroom.

  The Bargainer sets me down. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “Wait.” I catch his arm. “Will you stay in here with me?”

  Des tilts his head. “There’s no distance with you, is there?” he says. His eyes are totally laughing at me.

  “That’s a yes, isn’t it?”

  He sighs. “Can’t deny you anything.”

  Yay!

  “Okay, face the do
or,” I say, while I move to the toilet. “I don’t want you to see anything.”

  “Heaven forbid I catch sight of my mate’s pussy—”

  “Des!”

  He lifts his hands. “I’m facing the door. Want me to plug my ears too?”

  Yes? No? Maybe? “Plug one of them.”

  Now I definitely hear him laugh.

  Once I’m sure he’s not looking and only half listening, I lift my filmy skirt and begin to sit—

  I let out a very unladylike screech as my ass misses the toilet and I sprawl out on the floor next to it. My skirts are around my head, my unmentionables exposed.

  Des turns around. I’ll give him this—he doesn’t laugh, though I’m sure it’s taking everything in him not to.

  “Cherub.” He comes over and helps me up, then properly sets me on the toilet. He brushes my hair back. “What happened?”

  Alcohol happened. That’s what.

  I cover my face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  The Bargainer removes my hands, kissing my knuckles. “At least you didn’t start peeing.”

  I might’ve.

  “Oh. Comment redacted then.”

  I fucking hate aelerium liquor.

  By the time The Bathroom Incident that We’ll Never Talk about Again is behind us, the liquor has worn off somewhat.

  Des makes a disbelieving noise at the back of his throat.

  Alright, it’s worn off just a little.

  “So little that science doesn’t yet have the tools to quantify such a miniscule measurement,” Des says.

  “Pssh. Why do you have to be so witty all the time?”

  He begins to answer when I cover his mouth with my hands.

  His eyes are still laughing at me. When I’m sure he’s not going to say anything else, I remove them.

  We round a corner, and the bathhouse pool comes into view. I squeal at the sight of it and skip-run over, tripping only a couple times along the way.

  I jump into the pool, sighing when the cool water slides against my skin. I was half worried that the water would be oppressively hot, but it carries the perfect chill.

  I linger underwater, my siren perfectly content to stay down here forever. It might not be the ocean, but it’s water, and that’s good enough.

  When I surface, Des sits along the edge of the pool, a knee hiked up. “I’m only letting you swim while inebriated because you’re a siren, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure you're incapable of drowning. Please don’t prove me wrong.”