Dark Harmony (The Bargainer Book 3)

by Laura Thalassa

His girlfriend, Christina Ruiz, had hired me to … deal with Arnold.

  “Several years ago, Arnold beat, raped, then repeatedly stabbed his girlfriend after she tried to leave him.” The crime scene photos still haunt me. “He got off with rape and assault charges, was sentenced to ten to thirty years, but was put on parole early.”

  When I found Arnold, he had that map on him, Christina’s address written out on it. Along with the map, he had bleach, rope, duct tape, and a hammer stowed away in the trunk of his car.

  “What happened to him?”

  “I happened.”

  Arnold and I played a game called An Eye for an Eye. He didn’t like it much. I did.

  Next to come out of the box is an embroidered iron-on patch of a flaming skull. It lands in Des’s palm, a bit of black leather still clinging to it.

  “Racist biker.”

  The Bargainer waits for more explanation.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. It was a bad day and he pissed me off.”

  That guy was such an asshole. And I had absolute power over him, despite his enormous size and his white hot temper.

  Des pulls out a tooth. He holds the incisor up. “Cherub, this looks more like my work than yours.”

  Now that he mentions it, it does.

  I take the tooth from him, rolling it between my fingers. I close my eyes for a moment, hearing an echo of this man’s screams.

  “Human trafficker.” I can still see his crisp white shirt and the smoke that curled from his cigarette. He looked at me like I was livestock. The memory still gives me chills.

  But I’m also proudest of that particular case. I ended up saving over a hundred men, women, and children.

  “I left him alone in a room with his victims and their families.”

  “Did he die?”

  I shake my head. “He begged for it … but no.”

  I never said I was a good person, but I came pretty close to the devil with this one. The tooth is proof enough of that.

  “I brought all of these men close to death,” I say, looking down at the tooth.

  For several seconds, the Bargainer doesn’t say anything. Finally, “How close?”

  Close enough to feel that ancient power move through me, the same power that compelled my ancestors to kill.

  I clear my throat. “Close enough to know I should feel ashamed.”

  … Close enough to really enjoy it.

  Des huffs out a laugh. “But you’re not.” It isn’t a question.

  “No.”

  Not at all. The box is full of mementos of the cruelest, most sinister people in the world. People who hurt children, who abused loved ones, who tried to get away with murder.

  Not even prison or death can atone for the atrocities they’ve committed. I might be the closest they ever come to a true reckoning on earth.

  Des shakes his head. “Godsdamnit but we’re similar. Did I make you this way?”

  “You didn’t do anything,”—except maybe give me a template on how to work with criminals—“I was this way before you met me.”

  At the reminder, the edges of the room darken. It’s actually pretty heartening, seeing Des get upset for me even after all this time.

  He toes the box. “Think I should pay these guys a visit?”

  I doubt they’d survive it. The Bargainer doesn’t have the same issue with death that I do.

  Still, I smile at the thought of the King of Night in his leather pants and vintage T-shirts, dropping in on these men so that he can wreak a little havoc—and all because they pissed his mate off at one point in time.

  I thread my fingers through his. “Marriage with you is going to be fun.”

  Chapter 23

  “… Enchantress …”

  I suck in a breath at the voice. It comes from everywhere all at once.

  “Enjoying your time on earth?”

  I swivel in a circle, my feet digging into sand.

  Sand … ?

  That’s when my surroundings come into focus. There’s a beach, and the ocean, and a cliff—a very familiar cliff.

  This is the beach beneath my house. I’ve been here a thousand times, usually alone. If my house is my sanctuary, this strip of land is my temple. And right now, it’s being defiled.

  “Nice view,” the Thief says, his breath against my ear.

  My skin flares to life as fear floods through me. I spin to face him.

  The Thief is clad in dark clothes—human clothes. I thought I’d seen him at his scariest before, but the Thief masquerading as a human might be the most frightening version of him.

  “How did you know where I was?” I ask.

  “Callypso,” he runs a hand through his jet black hair, “I know everything.”

  No supernatural is that omnipotent.

  The Thief of Souls levels his pitiless gaze on me. For a moment we simply look at one another, then his eyes dip lower.

  “That trick you do with your skin,” he says, “I quite like it.” He leans in close, his mouth brushing my ear, “I imagine being inside you is like fucking a star.”

  The Thief straightens, running a hand down his shirt and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles. "Speaking of stars—” Before I realize what he’s doing, he captures my left hand. He angles it so that he can get a good look at my ring. “The King of the Night didn’t go cheap when he popped the question—and you said yes.”

  “What did you think I’d say? ‘No’? That I was saving myself for you?”

  He chuckles at that. “What a mortal thought. I rather enjoy our talks, enchantress. No, I want you to enjoy your mate’s company for as long as you possibly can. You see, life is just one long story; I don’t really care how yours begins … only how it ends.”

  That sends a foreboding chill down my spine.

  The Thief sits down in the sand then, and it’s so disarming. You expect evil to be obvious; you never expect it to act like anyone else might. He pats the ground next to him. “Join me.”

  I stare down at him. “I don’t intend to stay here.”

  “Would you rather go back into your house? Care to see if your mate’s there?” he says. “I wonder what that would be like, me cornering the two of you in your own home. Maybe we could all kiss and make up for our trespasses.”

  That visual physically hurts.

  “Or I could just hold you down and deflower your ‘virgin’ cunt while the Night King is forced to watch.”

  This conversation is over.

  I walk away from him. I haven’t taken five steps when the earth violently rolls, throwing me onto my back. Beneath me the sand shifts then resettles.

  I blink up at the sky, a couple of seagulls crying out as they fly overhead.

  “You are in my realm, enchantress. Here we play by my rules,” the Thief says. He sits right next to me, and I have no idea whether he moved to my side, or whether the earth deposited me at his.

  My fingers dig into the sand. If I’m in his realm, a realm I only visit when I fall asleep, then …

  I push myself up, studying his profile. “So you control small death, and everything that happens here.” Like shaking the ground and throwing me onto the sand.

  The Thief’s eyes brighten. “The PI finally put it together. How very keen of you.”

  This asshole.

  I huff out a laugh. “You know what your problem is?” I say, rotating to face him once more. “You think you’re some special brand of evil, but you aren’t. I’ve met plenty of men like you before.” Men that use and break and destroy.

  He gives me a sly smile, and I’ve never seen features so cold. It scares me—truly it does. I’ve caught the attention of an abominable thing, and I know the moment he really, truly gets his hands on me—not in some dream, but in the real, waking world—he’s going to ravage me.

  “I assure you, enchantress,” he says, “you’ve never met a man like me.”

  I wake in Des’s arms, my body covered in a cold sweat. I’m panting, my chest rising and fallin
g.

  A moment ago, the Thief and I were sitting out on the beach beyond my backyard, and I can’t shake the nonsensical belief that he’s still out there, staring up at my house, debating whether or not he should break down the door and fuck with me and Des.

  I clasp onto the Bargainer’s forearm as he cradles my head and neck. I close my eyes and will my heartrate to slow.

  When I open my eyes, the Bargainer is smoothing my hair away from my face. “We used to do this together,” he says softly, “back in your dorm room. You used to get nightmares and I’d wake you from them.”

  Because even when we weren’t a we, Des was still saving me, over and over again.

  “Do you remember?” he asks quietly.

  I nod against him.

  “And now the nightmares are back, and this time, I can’t save you from them.”

  I draw in a shaky breath and press a hand to my clammy forehead. “He can control dreams—the Thief. He called the place his kingdom.”

  Des frowns, his forehead wrinkling as his gaze searches my face. I think he’s about to tell me something, but the moment passes and his words never come.

  Out my bedroom windows, I can hear the surf crashing against the shore. It’s one more visceral reminder of my dream.

  I shudder out a breath. “I don’t know why he’s targeting me.” I’m embarrassed by how weak I sound.

  “Listen to me,” Des says, gripping me tightly. “The Thief of Souls may be powerful, but you are no one’s victim. Do you understand?”

  I swallow and nod.

  Des searches my face, the moonlight casting his face in shades of blue. “Think you’ll be able to fall back to sleep?” he asks.

  And end up in another one of the Thief’s sick dreams?

  I shake my head.

  The Bargainer let’s out a breath. “Then let’s grab breakfast.”

  I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s 3:02 a.m.

  “Where are we going to get breakfast this early?”

  Des just grins.

  “I fucking love you, you know that, right?” I ask, pulling apart a chocolate croissant. Around us, sunlight filters into Douglas Café. It may be the middle of the night in Malibu, but it’s nearly lunchtime on the Isle of Man. The place is abuzz with people chatting over coffee and pastries, life moving along the same way it did when we used to come here a decade ago.

  “It’s always nice to be reminded.” Des kicks his booted feet up on the table, leaning back to sip his espresso. The years might pass, but watching the big bad Bargainer drink coffee from a tiny cup will never get old.

  I take a sip from my coffee, watching a group of teenage witches gossip as they wait in line to order.

  “Do you ever wish you had that?” Des asks, following my gaze.

  “Had what?”

  The Bargainer smirks. “Don’t be coy, cherub. You know what I’m talking about.”

  Girlfriends. A posse. A group of women that have your back and you have theirs. People who you’d shop with, borrow shit from, tell all your secrets to. There had been moments where I’d wanted all of that so desperately it hurt.

  I take a deep breath, setting my mug down. “Sometimes—when I don’t think about what it would’ve cost me.” If I hadn’t been so desperately lonely, I wouldn’t have bartered for Des’s company. And if I hadn’t bartered for that …

  “I would’ve come for you, love.” He kicks his feet off the table. “I searched a hundred years for you. I would’ve found you, one way or another.”

  That confession warms me to the tips of my toes.

  I take a final drink of my coffee, then push it away. I glance back at the girls, who’ve now moved off to the side as they wait for their order. “I do have a version of that,” I say softly.

  Temper filled the gaping hole Des left in me, and I was there to fill her own holes.

  God, that thought sounded so much dirtier than I intended. Not that Temper would mind the description.

  “Ah, Temper, the woman I am forever indebted to. You know, I happen to know a bit about … her situation.”

  My eyes widen. I know enough about her fucked up background, but I don’t know everything.

  Des takes another sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime … for a price, of course.”

  Of course.

  The Bargainer downs his espresso and stands. “We should get moving. We’ve got an appointment to make.”

  I brush off the cobwebs after we step off the ley line and into a condemned church.

  Ley line portals occur in the eeriest places.

  “Where are we?” I ask as Des leads me outside. Above us, the sky is overcast, and across the street, one building butts up against the next.

  “London,” Des says, taking my hand.

  For a moment, I don’t think that’s unusual. I’m used to showing up in random cities with Des. It’s what we always used to do together.

  But now that Galleghar and the Thief are loose, and the Otherworld is in the midst of a war, London feels random.

  “Why are we here?”

  “You’ll see.”

  With that cryptic remark, we head down the street. The two of us walk for several blocks, the Bargainer all but dragging my ass towards this mystery destination.

  “Where are we going?” I ask again.

  “I have an acquaintance who might be able to help us.”

  Help us with what?

  “Unless you’re taking me to the spa, I’m really not thrilled about this.”

  I mean, I will risk another drop-in with Galleghar if it means getting some spa treatment, but that’s about it.

  The Bargainer glances at me as we cross the street, his expression sly. “I thought breakfast bought me a little amnesty.”

  I grumble at that because he has a point. You ply me with pastries and coffee, and I’ll overlook a lot of crap.

  We finally stop in front of a sleek building.

  “This is where you wanted to take me?” I ask, sizing it up. It looks like a place where fun goes to die. It’s all smooth edges and modern fittings, and frankly, it looks wrong, sitting right here in this old city. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate this.”

  “Cherub, you don’t even know what this is.”

  I snort. “Unless this place contains a themed bar, a year’s worth of macaroons, or fucking Santa Claus, it’s going to disappoint.”

  All of which are also things I will risk a drop-in with Galleghar for.

  “So dramatic. Maybe if you play nice, I’ll take you to a themed bar after this—I might even let you take body shots off of me.”

  I thin my eyes at Des. “That’s blackmail right there.” Completely effective blackmail, but blackmail nonetheless.

  “Your deduction skills are off the charts.”

  I give my mate a light shove, grinning a little. “You don’t have to get all mouthy on me. And I’m totally holding you to those body shots.” Tequila ones. I want to lick salt off his grossly sexy abs and have him hand feed me limes.

  Why yes, I am a freak.

  Reluctantly I enter the building with him. It’s not until we reach the sixteenth floor and I see the metal placard fitted across the way that I realize what exactly the surprise appointment is.

  “You’re taking me to visit a seer?” Simply saying the name sends a wave of adrenaline through my system.

  No wonder the Bargainer was being all cloak and dagger about our destination. I never would’ve agreed to come here if I’d known.

  “Don’t you think it’s about time we had someone look into your future, considering all that’s going on?” Des says.

  “No, I don’t think so.” I don’t think so at all. Because, reasons. Good ones. Ones I don’t want to talk about.

  I’m still staring at the sign.

  Belleby & Sons, LLC

  Seer

  Forewarned is Forearmed

  I shiver a bit. My stepfather was a seer. He worked in a place just like this one
, dealing out fortunes to the richest and most powerful people—people who were often on the wrong side of the law.

  That was how I first found the Bargainer. A client had given my stepfather Des’s card, and he kept it close at hand, ready to call on the Night King if he found himself in a tight situation. As fate would have it, I was that tight situation, and the Bargainer was my saving grace.

  The floor is eerily silent, all except a distant moan. I rub my arms.

  Those body shots are going to have to be the most delicious mouthfuls of tequila in the world.

  Des places a hand on my back and leans over to kiss my temple. That’s the closest he comes to apologizing for the rotten trick he’s played on me. He leads me down the hall, and the place seems all but abandoned.

  “Business is really booming,” I say.

  Des’s mouth quirks, but the rest of his face is stoic.

  We stop in front of a door. Behind it the moaning is louder.

  Whoever is foreseeing futures here, it sounds like they’re busy ruining someone else life.

  Maybe we should just come back later …

  Without any warning, the Bargainer blasts the door open.

  “Knock knock.”

  Inside the room, a naked woman shrieks from where she lays sprawled on the desk, the man on top of her scrambling to disentangle himself.

  “Oh shit,” the man says, catching sight of Des. He rapidly tries to shove his junk back into his slacks.

  Just—ew.

  The mostly naked woman screams again, trying (pretty unsuccessfully) to cover herself up.

  I guess that explains the moans …

  “I thought you said we had an appointment?” I hiss at Des.

  My mate doesn’t look at me, instead shaking his head at the man. “You know better than to mix business with pleasure, Collin.”

  Guess that’s the seer. Color me unimpressed.

  The Bargainer waves his hand idly, and the clothes the woman is trying to put on fit themselves to her body. She yelps, then scrambles from the room.

  “Damnit,” the man says, watching the woman leave before turning his attention to Des. “You could’ve called.”

  He has a point—after all, forewarned is forearmed.

  “My clients always say that,” Des says. “Problem is, when I call, they have a bad habit of disappearing, and I have a bad habit of finding them and adding interest to their bill. Really, this is better for all parties involved.”