Dark Harmony (The Bargainer Book 3)

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Dark Harmony (The Bargainer Book 3) Page 19

by Laura Thalassa


  Collin grabs his discarded shirt and slips it back on.

  “What do you want?” he asks, disgruntled. He buttons up his shirt and leans back against the desk.

  Going to need a Bible and some holy water to clean the deeds off that piece of furniture.

  I feel the breath of Des’s magic leave him. A moment later, it slides the seer’s shirtsleeve up, revealing two jagged tally marks.

  I step forward, instantly curious. It’s rare to see one of Des’s clients with more than one of his tattoos. Probably means that Des trusts Collin.

  “Remind me again how many months you’ve had these?” the Bargainer asks.

  The man pulls his sleeve back down, fidgeting with the cuff; I get a glimpse then of how young he really is. Mid-twenties maybe? And now that I’m looking for it, there are indications that he’s uncomfortable in the clothes he wears.

  After what we walked in on, I wasn’t expecting that from this guy.

  “I’m willing to pay off my debt,” Collin says. “Just tell me what you want.”

  Now I hear Collin’s rough-around-the-edges accent. A scenario takes shape: a kid with promise but not a lot of options approaches the Bargainer. The Bargainer sees something of himself in the young man, so he helps him a little more than his other clients. And thus the young seer has an inspiring rags-to-riches tale and only two debts to show for it.

  Collin’s eyes move to me, and there they catch.

  “Who’s this?” He asks with a tad more interest than is professional.

  “It doesn’t matter who she is. What matters is what you can do for her,” Des says.

  The seer’s face turns cocky. He gestures for me to come forward.

  “Wash your goddamn hands first,” Des growls. “You’re not touching her after having your fingers in some broad’s pussy.”

  Collin raises his eyebrow but gets up. “I see our time apart hasn’t made you any nicer.”

  Des’s eyes flick briefly around the room. “I see our time apart has made you richer.”

  The seer grunts. Giving me a little nod, he leaves the room.

  I turn to the Bargainer. “Why are we doing this?”

  Really don’t want to be here.

  “Cherub, I personally promise that if Collin does anything you don’t like—”

  I open my mouth.

  “—other than foreseeing your future—”

  Damnit. I close my mouth.

  “—I will personally gut him from navel to throat.”

  Jesus.

  “Well, I’ll collect my last favor from him, then I’ll gut him navel to throat,” Des amends.

  “No one needs to gut anyone else. I just—”

  The door opens, and the rest of my words die away as Collin returns.

  “All right,” the seer says, “where were we?” His eyes fall to me, brightening with interest. “Oh, right, you want a reading.”

  “I don’t want a reading,” I say, just because I figure that point needs clarifying.

  Collin turns to Des.

  “Give her a reading.”

  Ugh.

  The seer clears his throat. “Okay. Please, take a seat ma’am.” He gestures to a nearby couch.

  I’m sure I look like a petulant child as I take a seat. I mean, I get it, just because my stepfather was Satan (that’s not literal—I’ve heard Satan is actually a lot nicer than Hugh Anders), doesn’t mean all seers suck.

  But it also doesn’t mean I have to be a good sport about this.

  Collin sits down next to me, and Des moves to the wall across from the couch, leaning against it and folding his arms, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his AC/DC shirt.

  Seriously unfair that the Bargainer can look that tasty even when I’m annoyed at him.

  “I’m Collin,” the seer says, drawing my attention back to him. “Figure you ought to know my name before I go peering into your future.”

  I’m about to clap back that I already know his name and this sucks and everything sucks, but I force out a smile. “Callie.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Yeah, whatever.

  The seer takes my hands, his thumbs stroking my skin in a way that’s not entirely professional. But maybe that’s just me.

  I stare down at our hands, and as I look at them, I begin to sense his heartbeat pounding beneath his skin, moving magic with blood. His human power fills my senses.

  His ability is strong, staggeringly so.

  My eyes flick up to Collin.

  I think I’m waiting for incense, incantations—at the very least an open flame or a shallow bowl of water to divine my future from. My stepfather had a bowl he used to carry around that was meant for scrying. He never used it on me—he never dared to face his monstrous deeds head on—but he liked using it with clients.

  This seer doesn’t do any of that. He breathes in deeply, his gaze fixed on mine, his eyes searching, searching …

  They unfocus.

  My own gaze goes to Des, who’s settled himself in a nearby chair. With one booted foot, he’s tilted the seat so it rests on its two back legs.

  When he catches me staring, the edge of his mouth curls up. He begins to levitate himself and the chair, entertaining me like he used to when I was a teenager.

  I begin to snicker.

  “Eyes on me,” the seer says gently.

  My attention returns to Collin. The two of us stare at one another for a long time. Long enough to make me shift in my seat and for this to feel awkward. Long enough for me to vividly visualize those body shots.

  It takes another minute, and then Collin begins to speak. “I see another entity shadowing you, slipping into your consciousness when it has a chance—what can do that?” the seer murmurs to himself. “This is no incubus … this is … no earthly being. It will continue to haunt you. It wants to … I’m not sure. It wants you—enchantress.”

  That name. I tense.

  Des’s chair lands harshly.

  Now Collin closes his eyes. Seconds pass, and his breathing seems to slow.

  This feels like it’s going off script …

  The seer’s eyes snap open.

  I rear back. I know the creature staring behind those eyes.

  This is no seer. Not anymore.

  He begins to speak. “Hurry enchantress, you’re running out of time.”

  I try to pull my hands free, but Collin’s grip tightens.

  “I’ll devour you slowly, your life is mine.”

  The corner of Collin’s mouth curls up into a sinister smile. “So flee from me, for once I’m through, I’ll be freeing myself and coming for you.”

  The seer drops my hands, coughing and rubbing his throat. When he glances up again, the Thief is no longer in his eyes.

  “What the fuck was that?” he rasps.

  I’m shivering, and not just from apprehension. The room’s grown cold and dark.

  Des steps out from the shadows. “That was a creature in need of extermination,” he says, helping me off the couch. “What else did you foresee?” he asks, staring at Collin.

  The seer clears his throat, still rubbing at it. “I saw darkness and death, and something about it was … aware. Whatever that shit was, it’s closing in on her,” he says, nodding to me. “If no one stops that thing … then it will get ahold of her. And in that case,” Collin looks at me apologetically. “Death is not what you should worry about.”

  Death is not what you should worry about.

  That should be the Thief’s slogan. I’ve already seen that when it comes to this monster, there are other brutally twisted things he can do that circumnavigate death.

  And now my mind conjures up all sorts of impossible things that are worse than death.

  See, this is what I mean about wanting to have a normal life. Normal people don’t have to worry about things worse than simply dying.

  Collin rolls his shirtsleeve up just as one of the two black lines disappears from his skin.

  “That was rea
lly all you wanted?” he asks.

  “Would you like me to take more?” The darkness still hasn’t lifted.

  “No—no,” the seer rushes to say.

  “Then I’ll be around,” Des says. “And professional tip: try to keep your dick in your pants during the workday. It’s bad for business.”

  Desmond puts a hand on my back. “Ready to go, cherub?” he says, his voice gentling for me.

  I nod.

  More than ready.

  Collin reaches a hand out, presumably to shake Des’s. The Bargainer looks down at it with mild distaste.

  Instead of taking the seer’s hand, a black business card manifests between Des’s fingers. “You know how this works. We’re not fucking chums. Give my card to a friend in a tight place, or don’t, but don’t forget where we stand. You still have a favor left.”

  I guess that’s as close as the Bargainer ever gets to his nicer clients.

  Collin takes the card from Des, and that should be the end of things.

  It’s not.

  Maybe Collin is cocksure, or curious, or maybe he just wants to make a point, but at the last minute he grasps Des’s hand anyway, forcing the Bargainer into a hostage handshake.

  The moment Collin’s skin comes in contact with my mate’s, the seer sucks in a breath, his eyes unfocusing.

  Me thinks someone else is getting their fortune read …

  Next to me, Des’s form flickers. One second Collin has him in a handshake, and in the next Des grabs the seer by the throat.

  He slams Collin back against the wall. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember asking you to fucking read my future,” the Bargainer says calmly. There’s nothing to give away his simmering anger—no shadows, no outline of wings—nothing.

  Collin pries at Des’s fingers uselessly, but the more their skin comes into contact, the worse off the seer appears to be. Collin’s eyes roll back, his breath choking. His body spasms once, twice.

  I step forward. “Des, what are you doing?” I ask, alarmed.

  He frowns at the seer. “Nothing.” As if to prove his point, the Bargainer releases the man.

  Collin crumples to the ground, his body weak and shaking. He moans, his eyelids fluttering. He coughs. “Bargainer—”

  The Night King stares impassively at him. “You pull that stunt again, you’ll lose those fingers one by one.”

  Des glances over at me. “Ready, cherub?”

  Uh … “Yep.”

  Des places a hand on my back and leads me to the door.

  “Wait,” Collin calls out from behind us.

  The Bargainer doesn’t slow.

  “There’s something you should know,” the seer says, his voice hoarse. “The darkness … the darkness will betray you.”

  Chapter 24

  We don’t speak until we’re a block away from the building.

  “How would you like a beer?” the Bargainer finally says.

  “Des.” It’s barely a whisper.

  “I need a beer.”

  “Des.” I stop. I feel like I can’t catch my breath. “You can’t just pretend the last ten minutes didn’t happen.”

  The Bargainer mutters something under his breath. He turns to me, his hair looking like snow against the grey London backdrop.

  “Callie, nothing is going to happen to me.” He sounds so sure of himself. Like he’s impervious to harm.

  I want to shake him. “That seer said the darkness would betray you, Des!”

  “The seer is a little prick who got too big for his breeches.”

  Why is he not listening? “He looked into your future!”

  “Callie.” He takes my hand, rolling my engagement ring a little. (Always have to be wearing a piece of the Bargainer’s jewelry.) “It’s alright. I’m not discounting Collin’s words. What will come to pass will come to pass, but you need to trust in me. Can you do that?”

  No. Ugh, yes.

  “It feels like I just got you back.” I glance down at my feet before looking at the Bargainer again. “I can’t lose you twice.”

  “Who said anything about losing me?” Des asks. “Don’t let your mind play tricks on you now, love. Betrayal is not the same as death.”

  I take a deep breath. He’s right. Begrudgingly I nod.

  “You good?” Des asks.

  Nope. Not really.

  “I want those body shots.”

  Desmond found us a themed club after all. One that offers body shots.

  Alchemy, a nightclub in London, is decked out to look like a sorcerer’s paradise, every last decoration tied into black magic and spellcasting.

  “Cherub, this is a bad idea.” Des gazes up at me from where he lays, fake flickering candles encircling him. He looks like a sacrificial offering among it all, and I guess that’s the point.

  “You love bad ideas,” I say. I hold a little vial of salt in one hand, and a lime in the other.

  So fucking excited.

  “Normally. This one I’m not so sure of.” Under his breath he says, “Would’ve been more fun if our roles were reversed.”

  I lean in close, my mouth inches from his. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.” I punctuate the statement by running the lime wedge around the Bargainer’s navel. His eyes brighten, and through our bond I sense the barest hint of his excitement.

  He is such a liar. He’s thrilled about the situation just as much as I am.

  My attention moves from his face to his torso. I follow the lime wedge with a circle of salt.

  Honestly, this is so sexy it should be illegal.

  Des flashes me a wolfish smile. “Enjoying yourself, cherub?”

  “Just a little.” I place the lime wedge in his mouth, and flag down the waiter.

  A man dressed in sorcerer’s robes comes over with a handle of tequila. At my signal, he pours the amber liquid into Des’s navel.

  Once he’s done, I lean in.

  I smile at Des as I lick the salt off his abdomen.

  A groan slips from between his teeth.

  Pressing my lips to his navel, I swallow down the tequila.

  Beneath my mouth, the Bargainer’s muscles flex. I place a hand against them as I rise, the alcohol burning down my throat.

  I lean in again, pressing my lips against the Bargainer’s, then take the lime wedge between my teeth, the citrus cutting through the bite of the alcohol.

  Once I set the lime aside, Des sits up and swivels to face me, kicking off an array of candles in the process.

  He places his hand on a slab between his legs. “Have you had your fill, love?”

  That’s a trick question, right?

  I lean in. “Not even close.”

  Des keeps his shirt off for the rest of the night, and the entire female population of this place can’t handle it.

  Seriously, they can’t. It’s a problem.

  “Everyone is looking at you,” I say.

  Des sits on the bar, drinking straight from a bottle of fancy whiskey. He’s really not supposed to be doing either, but when I told him that, he simply said, “Rules are meant to be broken.” Then he winked, took a sip of his whiskey, and I spontaneously orgasmed.

  Okay, the last one didn’t happen, but it was a near thing.

  I sit on the barstool like normal, grown-ass woman … while my fairy king all but pins me in with his legs.

  Not that I’m complaining about it. At all.

  I mean, I’m right at eye level with his abs. There are worse views.

  Des lowers his bottle of whiskey. “Everyone is looking at you, cherub.” He shakes his head. “The years may pass, but at the end of the day, you’re still that high school girl who’s woefully unaware of her own beauty.”

  A woman steps up to the bar next to us, her arm innocuously brushing Des’s thigh.

  “Sorry,” she says, apologizing even though half the people in this place are touching the other half.

  I give the Bargainer a pointed look. See?

  He ignores the woman, instead lean
ing forward. “Your wings are starting to show, baby siren.”

  I’m keenly aware of that. Alcohol plus fae possessiveness plus all my lusty thoughts are making it nearly impossible to hide them.

  The woman leans into Des, and this time when her arm brushes his thigh, it’s no accident.

  “Do you come here often?” she asks Des, ignoring me completely.

  My skin brightens, and I look at the woman. “Scoot.”

  Without another word the woman pushes away from the bar, moving back into the crowd.

  So that was technically against the law … but God it felt good.

  “Is someone jealous?” Des flashes a devilish smile, taking another swig from his bottle.

  “Pssh, no.” Yes.

  I glance at my skin and frown as it dims. “This is a supernatural bar, right?”

  “Not exclusively.” Using the hand that holds the bottle of whiskey, Des crooks a finger at me. I don’t move so much as his magic presses me up against him. “Which means that, much as I love these—” He touches a wing.

  Oh crap, they’re out again.

  “—we’re going to have to put them away.”

  Beneath his palm, I feel Des’s magic pour into me, just as it did the last time he hid my wings, back at my house. There’s a momentary pressure as the magic forces them to disappear, and then they’re gone.

  We stay at the nightclub for another hour, moving from the bar to the dancefloor to an area where we can just stand and mingle.

  The entire time the patrons of this place watch me and Des, and there’s so much in their looks. Lust, envy, avarice. The Bargainer does nothing but seed it; I can taste his magic in the air, reckless and wild, beckoning people to make bad decisions.

  Eventually they do. They drink more, touch more, and creep ever closer to us. Soon fights are breaking out, at least two couples appear to be participating in some heavy petting, and Des and I have scared off a dozen people interested in poaching on this relationship.

  “Do you do this at every party you attend?” I ask.

  “Do what?” he asks, appearing innocent.

  “Rile people up.”

  He smiles. “Are you not having a good time?”

  “I literally almost clawed a woman apart five minutes ago.” She’d inserted herself between me and Des, and then proceeded to flirt with my mate—at least until he conveniently side-stepped her to rejoin me.

 

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