Death Doesn't Bargain: A Deadman's Cross Novel

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Death Doesn't Bargain: A Deadman's Cross Novel Page 17

by Sherrilyn Kenyon


  Even more painful, she didn’t know what this woman really meant to Kalder. They could be great lovers and he could fall into her arms or bed for all Cameron knew.

  That thought chilled her. Mostly because she wouldn’t blame him for it. The lady was lovely. The kind of attractive bitchington a man like Kalder should be with.

  Why did the beautiful, glorious men always go off with soulless snakes like her?

  But Kalder didn’t give the posh bird a second or even a first glance.

  His gaze stayed locked on Cameron. As did his smile and unfaltering gait.

  “There you are, me precious phearse.”

  Ignoring the crowd, Kalder gave Cameron a courtly bow and kissed her gloved hand. “So sorry to have kept you waiting. There was something I had to see to before I joined you. I pray you can forgive me for me thoughtless ways. But hopefully this will make some amends for it.” He straightened and stepped behind her to lay a heavy necklace against her décolleté.

  His hands tickled her skin as he fastened it there then leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I knew the color would be the perfect match for your eyes. And I was right.”

  The woman in front of them turned as red as a beet as she glared with murderous intent at Cameron’s throat. Aye, there was no doubt the tart wanted to tear it off, or strangle her with it.

  And as Cameron glanced down to see what Kalder had so gallantly given her, she understood why.

  Holy mother and then some!

  She sucked her breath in sharply at what had to be the most incredible piece of jewelry she’d ever beheld in her entire life. Truly this exceptional brilliance was fit only for a grand empress, and never meant for the likes of her.

  The ethereal, fey stones were surrounded by flawless diamonds; a majestic peacock blue, they seemed to glow from some inner supernatural light. And those glowing blue teardrops formed an intricate lace collar that shimmered around her throat like delicate lace, capturing the light and sparkling with every breath she drew.

  She lifted the largest grand blue stone that was so massive it filled her entire palm to capacity so that she could study the magnificent, deep, unholy color of it. “What is this?”

  “They’re called tourmalines, me love, and are exceptionally rare. That particular shade is only found in the Brazilian colony, and are brought out at great sacrifice by the bravest of the brave and most skilled miners who have to be highly trained to spot them in the raw. The stones were given as a gift to me father as part of a peace treaty long ago. When I came of age, he passed them to me as part of me inheritance. They’re worth a king’s treasure.”

  Bron shot to her feet in outrage as she realized what it was Kalder had done. “And I forbid you to give those to a human being! And a lowborn one at that! Have you lost all shred of your intelligence?” That screech cut across the room at a decibel level that turned truly deafening.

  And it silenced every last bit of revelry. What few handful of folks hadn’t been staring at them before suddenly became acutely aware that a royal scandal was unfolding in the midst of their soiree. As any reasonable being would expect, it held their rapt attention, as they quickly focused on them with an embarrassing amount of intensity.

  “Those were to be mine on our marriage! They were promised to me!” the brunette who’d been attacking Cameron on Kalder’s arrival added.

  Raking the woman with a cool stare, Kalder laughed bitterly at her words. “Stop stirring shite with me lady, Hafren, when you know well enough that I told you long ago you and I were never to be. Your charms have never enticed me. They never will. Don’t you dare try and take the shine from me lady’s gift this day when I want nothing more than for Cameron to enjoy this moment. Shame on the lot of you for tainting it with your pettiness when you’ve had so many moments of gloating before others that you’d begrudge her this single one where she could feel beautiful and special. You should hold your heads down and slink off to the corners like the mange-ridden bitches you are.”

  He tucked Cameron’s hand into the crook of his elbow and slowly led her forward to where his mother stood on a dais at the front of the room.

  With a sneer, he tsked at her. “As for your wants and desires, dearest Bron, they stopped mattering to me the moment you buried a dagger in me gullet. I’m not here to please you. Or ask your permission on any matter, as I passed the age of needing your consent long ago. You’ve taken everything else from me, including me life, but I won’t let you take this necklace that is mine by all rights and laws to give to whomever I see fit. Not when it can give Cameron the future she wants and has worked hard to have. For that, I will fight you. Claw and fin. And everyone here has borne witness to the bitter truth of it. This necklace is the only piece of me father’s property what was given to me by way of inheritance before he died, and you can’t steal it from me. It was given freely and all know it.”

  Stunned, Cameron felt her jaw drop at what he was doing. “Kalder…”

  He faced her with a grim twist to his lips. “I’ve no use for it, me lady. It’s always clashed with me dark wardrobe and callous taste. Does nothing for me eyes, either. Trust me. Looks much more fetching on you. And with it, you won’t be needing your brother’s money to buy that tavern you’ve worked so hard for, and dreamed of owning. You can have it outright and be beholden to none.”

  “Except you.”

  “No worries there, love. That piece had already been confiscated from me, so I wrote it off long ago as stolen and in the hands of someone else. Never did I think to see it again, and I’d much rather it go to someone I choose and care about than someone I despise, who’s gone out of his way to do me harm. Besides, I like the thought of it easing your life and giving you pretty things. You deserve them and I like seeing them on you.”

  He winked at her. “As you’ve seen, I’m a mermaid of meager needs. Give me a hammock free of Rosie’s snoring, or a quiet cubby, and I’m a happy fish. You take that necklace and do some good with it, and make me mother miserable with your happiness, and I’m more than thrilled. It’s what I want.”

  Cameron didn’t know what to say. She was used to selfish arselings. No one, not even Paden, had ever been this generous where she was concerned.

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I won’t accept this unless you agree to be a partner in me tavern, Mr. Dupree. It wouldn’t be right to take your money and offer you nothing in return for it.”

  Kalder’s throat tightened as he stared into those sea blue eyes and saw the depth of her tender heart. That was why he loved her so much.

  Fair in all things. That was his Cameron. He’d never met anyone else like her. She wasn’t out to use others to get what she wanted. She didn’t lie or manipulate. Ever. Cameron just was. Honest as the day was long. Brash at times. Blunt at others. But in a world where others used words for deception, he appreciated that.

  “Fine, then. A silent partner. I’d never interfere with your business. You run it how you see fit. Deal?”

  She nodded.

  What do you fear most?

  Kalder froze as an unknown voice whispered through his mind. He tensed. Had anyone else heard it?

  If they had, they didn’t react as if anything unusual had happened—like a ghost whisper had tickled their ear.

  “Kalder?”

  He blinked as Cameron’s voice thankfully intruded over the nightmare of that unwanted invasion. “Aye?”

  “Are you all right? You went pale for a moment as if Rosie were standing upwind after eating a particularly large portion of Cookie’s pot of pork bellies and beans.”

  He forced himself to smile to allay her discomfort. “I’m fine.”

  “There’s something here. Like a fetch.…” Belle moved to stand at his side. “I feel it. Do you?”

  “I heard it.”

  Cameron’s eyes widened at the mention of a type of demon known to taunt others so that it could feed on fear and discord. She glanced around the room. “I haven’t changed forms. Perhaps it’s not a fet
ch or its ilk. Mayhap something benevolent for once?”

  Kalder laughed. “When are we ever that lucky, lass?”

  She popped him playfully on his stomach. “Can I not pretend? Will you not let me have a single moment of delusion, please?”

  Devyl’s eyes began to glow red—something as reliable as the shifting of her hair turning white when it came to denouncing the presence of evil. “I smell the stench of a daeve.”

  Paden shook his head in denial. “If one were near I’d be changing already to combat it.” He pulled his sword out. “Show me the beast and I’ll finish it off.”

  Belle scoffed. “Don’t count on that, Lord Arrogance. They’re not the same as other demons. They are a particular breed of demonic super-assassin nastiness. Highly trained to fight your kind and to sneak up on you to cut your throats long before you ever know they’ve left their astral plane and ventured to this one.”

  Devyl concurred. “Miss Morte’s right about that. I’ve seen a single one of their kind take down an entire army of Hell-Hunters and Hellchasers, then afterwards pick his teeth clean with the bones of their horses before going after a dragon Were-Hunter for no other reason than he was in a particularly shitty mood and thought its hide would make a pretty pair of boots. But hey, mate, if you’re feeling particularly suicidal, door’s in the wall. Make sure you give me regards to the sharks you pass on your way to the surface, and remember to hold your breath in the water no matter how much it burns.”

  Quelled by those words, Paden swallowed hard and slid his sword back into his sheath.

  Amused by her brother’s uncommon and sudden reserve, Cameron turned toward Captain Bane. “Could one of those beasts have found us here?”

  “Our luck? Anything’s highly probable.”

  William snorted. “For that matter, the more preposterous, the more likely.”

  Bart nodded in agreement. “Aye to that.”

  Perrin growled in outrage as he faced Varice. “I told you to kill him, brother. You see the danger you’ve exposed all of us to by allowing him to bring strangers into our city?” He started forward to attack Kalder.

  Cameron’s eyes widened as Kalder summoned a ball of fire to his fist. She hadn’t known he possessed those kinds of powers. Yet as shocking as that was, it paled in comparison to the next words out of the captain’s mouth.

  “Bron? Care to tell your sons who Kalder’s real mother is and why the lot of them should be shitting their britches right about now, and running for the door? Better still, ’tis long past time me boy here stops torturing himself with the thoughts that his own mother hated him so much that she killed him.”

  She arched a regal brow. “What? You think knowing the bitch hated him so much that she couldn’t bear the sight of him so she abandoned him at birth is better? Fine.” She pinned a cold stare on Kalder. “I’m not your mother, Kalderan. You’re a bastard piece of shit. Unwanted and abandoned on our doorstep the moment you were whelped by the real whore who brought you into this world.”

  Cameron gasped at the cruelty of those words as the fire went out on Kalder’s hand.

  He took the news without flinching or showing any emotion whatsoever. She had no idea how he managed it. But he did. Indeed, it was as if something inside him died with those words and left him as cold and lifeless as a statue.

  Yet she knew that it had to be shredding him inside and bleeding out every part of him. How could it not? That was such a low, cruel thing to do.

  And for it to be so public, no less …

  Damn Bron for this! Did she have no soul whatsoever? She was worse than even the demons they were after.

  The only clue Kalder gave of the pain he must be feeling was the subtle tensing at the corners of his lips. “I suppose one whore’s as good as another, then. Makes no difference which one birthed me and which one killed me, in the grand scheme of things.”

  Her nostrils flared at his insult.

  The captain let out an evil laugh at that. “There, me boyo, you’d be most wrong.”

  “How so?”

  He jerked his chin toward the coat of arms on the wall above the queen’s head. “I defy you to ask Bron for the name of your real and proper mother. Go on, I dare you.”

  Kalder hesitated as he caught the sudden look of fear on Bron’s face. More than that, he saw the panic in Varice’s eyes.

  A fissure of foreboding went through him as he considered what about his birth would scare them so. Shite … who would his father have shagged to scare them like that? Knowing his father, it could have been anyone.

  “Who’s me mother, Bron?”

  No sooner had Kalder asked that question than a horrid realization of what, or more to the point who, Devyl was looking at hit him, along with why they’d be so trepidacious for it.

  That wasn’t an animal or symbol on the royal Myrcian coat of arms, and well he knew it.

  Oh no … It was a person they held in such regard that she was emblazoned on their arms and flags. A woman they all worshiped and paid homage to.

  And not just any woman, at that.

  Nay, leave it to his father to have nailed a goddess, who possessed the upper body of a beautiful female and the lower body of a mermaid. Winged like a dragon. In one hand, she held the world in her palm, and in the other, a key that balanced two rings above it.

  And this particular goddess wasn’t known for her kindness or gentility. Rather, she was a vengeful devil said to have slaughtered her own father when she was nothing more than a girl. One who’d been cursed by her mother for said slaughter …

  His jaw dropped. “Are you saying that me mada was the goddess Melusine?”

  Devyl nodded grimly. “And contrary to what the bitch said, your mother didn’t abandon you by choice. She wanted to keep and raise you as she did her daughters, but merewyns aren’t allowed to raise their sons. They’re a matriarchal race. Had she kept you near her, her sisters would have killed and devoured you. A harsh lesson she learned after they murdered her other two sons when she returned home with them. So against her tenderest wishes, she left you here with your father. It was with the bitterest of tears. Tears you can still hear echoing in the wailing chambers of this land.”

  A chill went down Kalder’s spine at that. He knew the sound the captain referenced.

  All their people did. It was a shrieking scream of ultimate heartbreak in the cavern where no one ventured. Because the sound was so unbearable to hear. No one could take it for long. His father had used it for torture against his enemies and to interrogate his prisoners.

  If exposed to it for too long, the intensity of it could drive even the sanest of mind mad.

  Kalder couldn’t believe it was a sound someone made over him. Devyl pointed to Kalder’s biceps. “Tears don’t come naturally to merewyns. They are creatures of war. Women of action and extreme violence, who strike out in bitter fury and with alacrity. They have no tolerance for weakness of any kind and can’t abide it. The scars you bear across your left shoulder and arm? Those are mementoes from the tears your mother shed at her parting while she clutched you to her breast. Merewyns secrete bitter tears of acid that burn deep. The sadder their heart, the more potent the acid, the deeper it burns and the more it scars. As you can see by the depth and scarring of yours, she didn’t easily let you go, and I can assure you, she didn’t want to scar her own son, and taint your beauty in any way, as that isn’t their nature either. Had there been any way for her to keep you, she would have. Believe you me. She would have defied them all for a single day at your side, and it’s why Chthamalus was so attentive to you while you lived here. She charged him with your care and upbringing, and told him if he didn’t guard you like the most precious and sacred object you were to her, she’d have his heart for her war chest so that she could torture him eternally.”

  With two tentacles wrapped around his “chest” and “abdomen” for protection, Chthamalus nodded eagerly and bobbed away on his other five tentacles with a look of absolute terror on his fa
ce.

  Until Kalder pinned him with an arch stare.

  He froze and gulped audibly. “What he says is true, Highness. She threatened me with more than that.” He flashed his fanged teeth. “Not that she needed to. I’d have watched you anyway. Mostly because your father threatened me with worse and more should I ever breathe a word about your real and true origin. But still … After a while I got used to you, I did. Grew to like you, even. You’re actually not so bad. Death threats notwithstanding, I rather do like you. You’re not a terrible sort for only having four and one-quarter mismatched tentacles.”

  Ignoring his outburst, Devyl continued. “Your mother also left two rings as gifts in parting. One your father could use to summon her should he ever be in peril and need the aid of her and her sisters in battle, and one for you so that if you were deprived of his throne, you would have her army to command to reclaim it. Because that was their deal. You were to inherit everything here at his death.”

  His gaze went to Bron. “And that is what the Myrcian phearse has always feared most. Why she’s hated you from the moment of your first breath. Because as the son of their king—your father—and that sole son of a sea goddess, by all Myrcian law, you are the rightful heir of this kingdom, above all her sons. Your birth supersedes whatever bastard she whelps, and well she knows it.”

  Kalder went cold as memories flared deep and slapped him hard. But the one that stood out most was the day his father had died. While he’d never felt particularly close to the man, the news had hit him hard.

  More than that, he’d respected his father as a warrior. So, the reality that such a fierce fighter had gone down in battle had rattled him to the core of his being. Mostly because he’d believed his father to be invincible and immortal.

  The fact that Daven hadn’t been …

  It’d taken the wind out of Kalder’s youthful idealism. Left him adrift and stunned. Especially since he hadn’t known his place in his family without his father’s iron hand there to guide him, keep him in line, and hold the other jackals at bay.

  It was strange to him how that day seemed so close and yet so very far away. How he could be numb to it and still raw over it.

 

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