The two of us stand inside her guest suite. Like the rest of the Night Kingdom’s palace, this room has a Moroccan feel to it, with arched doorways, tiled columns, and hanging lanterns.
I lean back against the door. “What do you mean?” I say.
She begins to poke around the room. “Seems an awful lot like you’re getting comfortable here while you test drive your fairy prince.”
I am getting comfortable with this realm and my mate, something that the old Callie would’ve not been chill with. In her eyes, the Otherworld was too frightening and Des too flighty.
“What do you want me to do, Temper? You said it yourself earlier—I can’t just head back to earth.” I gesture to my wings. “I’m a freak.”
Freak. The word tastes like a lie when it leaves my lips. Maybe it’s all the things I’ve discovered I can do, maybe it’s that everyone in this realm looks a bit like me, or maybe it’s that the King of the Night seems to think that I’m perfect even with all these additions. Somewhere along the way I decided that different no longer equaled bad.
“There are ways to undo what happened to you,” Temper says.
Something uncomfortable slides through my stomach. To undo Karnon’s magic … how many times have I wished for these scales on my forearms to disappear? For my black nails to return to their normal, fleshy color? For my wings to disappear?
It’s a familiar feeling. There was a time I wished to wash away my flesh and live in someone else’s skin.
I’m only now accepting that I want this skin, imperfections and all. And Temper is suggesting that I can get rid of those imperfections. That I should.
I don’t expect to be hurt by the offer, but I am, just a little. I want her to accept all of me the way Des has.
“I don’t want to undo it,” I say.
Temper stops poking around to arch a sculpted eyebrow my way. “Seriously?”
Self-consciously, I reach around and drag the edge of one of my wings forward, the dark, iridescent feathers shimmering.
Releasing my wing, I sigh. “Is that so hard for you to believe?”
“Girl, you and I both know that you can’t come back to earth looking like you do. Don’t you want to come home? You have a whole life waiting for you.”
A lonely, empty life. That’s not to say that I want to abandon it, but I don’t also want to have to change myself in order to return to that life.
I open my mouth to tell her this, but then I stop myself. I’m not going to defend myself to her. She’s supposed to have my back the way I’ve had hers in the past. That’s the way our friendship has always worked.
I shake my head. “Forget about it.”
I turn to leave.
“Wait.” She heads back over to me and catches my wrist. “Callie, you know I only care if you care.” Her warm brown eyes search mine. “It’s just that I know how much you didn’t want to be a werewolf when you were with Eli, and now after being with another guy for three-point-five seconds, you look like a fairy.”
I give her an exasperated look. “I haven’t been with him for ‘three-point-five’ seconds.”
She squeezes my hand a little tighter, reading my features. “Fine,” she says, making some judgment call, “you have a long and sordid history with him. I just don’t like sharing my best friend, even if the dude’s her mate.”
And there’s the truth behind Temper’s trepidation. My friend feels threatened.
For as long as we’ve been friends, no one else has come between us. And as far as she knows, Des is the same guy that made me jaded towards men, so she’s also anti-Des because she’s loyal. And here I am, asking her to let go of her anger and jealousy.
It’s a lot to ask for, and she’s willing to work on it for me.
I pull my hand out of her grip so that I can give her a hug.
“I love you, you crazy chick,” I say.
Her arms come around me a second later. “I know. How could you not? I blew up a portal for you.”
Right there, in the middle of the hug, I begin to laugh. “I still can’t believe you did that. And the look on that fairy’s face …” I say, referring to the fairy she held hostage. That dude probably needed a new change of pants after the experience.
“You mean my guide?” she says. “That’s what he gets for overcharging me.”
Now the both of us begin to crack up, and it’s so messed up, but the two of us are a little sick in the head.
Temper pulls away, her laughter trailing off. “Okay, now where do these fairies keep the liquor?” she asks, glancing around the room. “I’m going to need to get trashed if I’m to stay here in the mother-fucking Otherworld.”
“I thought you were all about fairies,” I say, moving deeper into her room.
“Yeah, back when I was seventeen. I was also all about orange lipstick then too.” She shudders at the memory, kneeling in front of a hutch pressed to the side of the room.
“Aha!” she says, opening its doors. “Here we are.” She grabs a bottle with shimmery lettering. Uncorking it, she gives it a sniff.
She winces a little. “Ugh, smells like leprechaun piss, but it’ll do.”
Not even going to ask about the leprechaun comment.
She takes a swig straight from the bottle before offering it to me.
I wave it away.
“So,” she plops down on an ornate side chair, “Mal-a-ki.” She stretches out his name, waggling her eyebrows.
I groan, falling onto her bed. “Nooo.”
“No, what?” she says, some sass entering her voice.
I grab one of her pillows, tucking it under my chest. “I already know how this will play out: You’re going to screw him, then screw him over, and then he’s going to be huffy, and he’ll take it out on me because I’m your best friend.”
She gives me the side-eye, taking a swig from her bottle. “It would serve you right, you skinny little shit. I’ve had to deal with Eli since you broke things off with him, and that hairy motherfucker has had a bone to pick with me—pun unintended.”
Oops. Temper has a point. Our business, West Coast Investigations, contracted some of our work out to Eli, who was a supernatural bounty hunter. I assumed that our relationship—or lack thereof—wouldn’t affect our work.
Clearly I assumed wrong.
“So,” Temper continues, “does he have a girlfriend?”
“Eli?” I lift a shoulder. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Bitch, you and I both know I ain’t talking about Eli. Malaki.”
Poor fairy. Seems he’s going to have more to do with Temper in the coming days whether he wants to or not. She’s a force of nature when she wants to be.
“No clue,” I say.
I don’t even know if fairies have girlfriends or boyfriends. They seem like the kind of creatures to have courtships rather than dates, and betrotheds rather than significant others. And apparently, if you’re a ruler, harems.
I suppress my shudder.
“Hmmm …” Temper takes another swig from the bottle, completely oblivious to where my mind is at.
The urge to drink rises in me. Damn Des for forcing me to be sober. I could use a little liquor for this conversation.
“Is the eyepatch real?” she asks.
I just give Temper a look.
“It is, isn’t it?” She says this like it’s some kind of great revelation. “I want to see what’s under it.”
“Has anyone told you that you’re seriously disturbed?”
“Says the girl who loves to fuck bad men. How is the Bargainer in bed? I bet the dude is grade-A nasty.”
I could definitely use a little liquor for this conversation.
“Temper, I don’t want to kiss and tell.”
“What? You always kiss and tell.”
That was back when the men didn’t matter and it was fun to laugh about some of the sexual situations I got myself into. But intimacy with Des … it feels different, sacred.
“It’s the best I’
ve ever had,” I admit primly, “and that’s all I’m going to say.”
Temper eyes me over the bottle. “Shi-it, and here I thought this guy was a bad influence.”
“Oh, he’s still a bad influence,” I say, my eyes going distant.
Des might be my soulmate, but he’s still the man that tricks me into jumping off buildings, who kills remorselessly, who uses sex to collect repayment.
“Whatever you say.”
The two of us talk for a bit more. It’s only once the alcohol hits Temper’s system and makes her sleepy that I tuck her into bed and steal away from her room.
I spend an extra few seconds quietly closing her door.
“You have some explaining to do.”
I cover my mouth to muffle my yelp.
Leaning against the hallway wall is Des.
He strides towards me, and like a fool I begin to back up. When his eyes glint the way they do now, I can tell he’s right on the edge that separates sanity and madness, humanity and his fae cruelty.
He’s on me in an instant, pinning me to the wall.
“Let’s try this again,” he says, nipping my ear. “You have some explaining to do.” He presses a leg between mine, the movement rubbing against my core. “Now, do you want to start with the fact that you did not listen to my instructions when we were on the balcony earlier, or the fact that you nearly got yourself killed by facing down an angry sorceress?”
I swallow delicately. I knew this was coming.
“I could’ve—” His voice breaks. “I could’ve lost you,” he says harshly. “If you had been hurt … I wouldn’t have even had time to administer lilac wine.”
This is where I apologize for frightening him, and it’s where I thank him for his faith in me.
Only, I never get the chance.
Des’s face bricks itself up until the suave, cunning Bargainer stares back at me. “Or perhaps,” Des continues, “we should just skip the explanations and move onto repayment.”
Repayment?
Suddenly, the Bargainer no longer has me pinned to the wall. He lifts first one of my legs, then the other, wrapping them securely around his waist.
“Des—” I say, now beginning to get nervous.
Just what exactly does he have in mind?
He begins to walk, holding me to him. “Let’s try listening to instructions all over again: this time, when I give them to you, you’re going to follow them.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you planning?”
He flashes me a dark, smoldering look. “You’ll see soon enough, cherub.”
He heads up the hallway and down another, all the while, I’m pinned in his arms. I don’t bother trying to squirm away, mostly because I know he wants me to, and also because last time I tried to get out of this position, he used his magic on me.
So instead I let him carry me. I’m no featherweight. If he wants to exhaust himself lugging me around, he can be my guest.
Eventually he kicks open a set of double doors, leading out to yet another one of the palace’s many balconies.
Cool evening air blows in at my back, ruffling my feathers and stirring my hair.
“If you toss me off the balcony …” I warn.
He doesn’t wait for me to finish my threat. One moment he’s on solid ground, the next, the two of us are spiraling into the air, me still in his arms.
Aight, so Des isn’t planning on tossing me from a balcony … he’s planning on dropping me from the sky.
Only, he doesn’t let me go.
I stare him in the eye, the two of us locked together.
“What now?” I ask.
His eyes glitter.
That’s about the time I feel my clothes loosen, just as they did in Lephys.
What in the … ?
My fae attire essentially melts off my body. I let out a squeak, trying to grab at the remnants of my clothes. It’s no use; they slip through my fingers like grains of sand.
Good thing I’d already stowed away my daggers; otherwise, Des’s little gift would be long gone.
I glance below us, watching the shimmering fabric fall down to Somnia. Already, we’re too high up to see where it lands.
The night air caresses my bare skin. It feels like skinny dipping, the sensation strange and new and not altogether unpleasant. I’d be embarrassed over the exposure, except we’re too high in the sky and the night is too dark for anyone to see us.
I turn back to Des, my flesh bare. Like me, his clothes have long since peeled away. I run a hand over his bicep, my thumb tracing one of his war cuffs.
We slip through a layer of wispy clouds, the mist prickling my flesh. It’s the clouds that remind me of the first time I flew. Des had pointed out the couples hidden in the darkness, each caught in a lover’s embrace.
I suck in a breath, realizing what Des means to do. What we mean to do.
Of course the King of the Night, the man who rules over sex and sleep, violence and chaos, means to take me up here, where only the stars and the great vastness of the universe are our audience.
“I told you I had many, many demands,” he says, reading my thoughts. His voice is soft as the two of us hover in the heavens, our hair rustling in the gentle breeze.
As he speaks, I can feel his magic settling around us. It’s not pushy or uncomfortable like it sometimes can be. Rather, I feel as though I’m bathing in Des’s essence—shadows and moonbeams.
Slowly, his hands slide down my back. They feel like a sculptor’s touch, molding me into some pleasing form. They slip under the backs of my thighs.
My hands are clasped loosely around Des’s neck, and I play with the soft ends of his hair.
“I thought you wanted me to follow your instructions,” I say, my breath a whisper.
He lifts my body up just a few inches, and then slides me onto him. My lips part as I stare at him, my skin beginning to glow. I look like just another star in the sky as our flesh meets.
“I do,” he says, nuzzling my cheek, “but I find I prefer you a bit untamed too.”
With that, the two of us begin to move, our bodies quickly turning feverish. And we spend the night as just two more lovers hidden amongst the clouds.
Chapter 19
The next day, Des and I are back out in the training yard, me a little bedraggled from my evening, Des looking just as sharp as always.
If I thought that after the closeness of last night, the Bargainer would go easy on me today, then I thought wrong.
I clutch my brand-spanking-new daggers in my hands, feeling every inch the amateur as Des comes at me.
“Block—block,” he barks out as he begins his attack.
My arms come up belatedly, just barely holding him back.
“My flank is open, Callie,” he says.
“How am I—?”
He spins out of my grip, and then I feel the press of his blade against my neck.
“How many times have I killed you today?” he asks, his breath warm against my cheek.
“Twenty-three.” He’s been making me count. Like I don’t already feel supremely shitty about my combat skills.
He clicks his tongue. “You can do better.”
I don’t want to do better. I want to go back inside the palace, find the royal kitchens, pillage them of their pastries, and then take a nice long nap.
But wishes, I’ve decided, are little bastards that always bite you in the ass—at least, if you get them from the Bargainer.
Des swipes out, knocking one of my blades from my grip, the metal clattering against the ground.
Okay, seriously, my suckiness is starting to piss me off.
“Your blade is an extension of your arm,” Des says, beginning to circle me. “You wouldn’t let someone cut off your hand—don’t let someone divest you of your weapon.”
I lunge for my fallen dagger, just barely missing another swipe of my mate’s weapon as I roll out of the way.
“Finally, my siren shows potential.”
“You would give me something?” Des says, looking intrigued. “Cherub, I’m always open to that sort of bargain.”
Beyond Des, Malaki and Temper exit the palace, heading right for our training grounds. Never have I been so happy to see them. Surely this will get me out of training for the day.
The tip of Des’s blade is suddenly poking my breastbone, his silver eyes intense. “Don’t take your eyes off your enemy for a second.”
“Temper and Malaki are here,” I say, nodding to them.
“Good,” he says, not turning from me. “Perhaps you can impress them with your skill.”
“We’re not stopping?” Suddenly, Temper’s presence is feeling a whole lot less welcome. I don’t want everyone and their mother watching my ass get handed to me. I sort of have a reputation to maintain. There are also the tatters of my dignity to consider. I’d like to keep those.
Over Des’s shoulder, I can just make out my friend giving Malaki fuck-me looks.
Des swipes my feet out from under me. I land on my hip, my weapons clattering out of my hands.
“Concentrate,” he growls.
You’d think for a dude who got repeatedly laid last night, he’d be in a slightly better mood.
I scramble for my daggers just as he kicks one out of the way.
Screw this. Seriously.
“Bitch,” Temper calls out, “I know you can give better than that.”
I throw her a nasty look, but it’s a wasted one. She’s already moved on, leaning into Malaki and whispering something to him that makes him laugh. I’m pretty sure it’s at my expense too.
The Bargainer swats my butt with his weapon, making me instantly livid. “If you don’t like the way I talk to you, then show me.”
I grab my remaining dagger and lash out, the tip of my blade cutting through the leather covering Des’s calves.
He pauses, his eyes flicking to the tear in his protective gear. Suddenly, a smile breaks out along his face.
“Well done!” he says, sliding his weapon back into its sheath. “I’ll make a warrior out of you yet.” He reaches for my hand. “Training’s officially over for the day.”
A Strange Hymn (The Bargainer Book 2) Page 12