Special Deceptions (The Coursodon Dimension Book 5)

by M. L. Ryan

  “Patience, I am getting to that,” he scolded. “Kyzal’s change of demeanor spilled over to his personal life as well. Tjryxina worried his extended working hours and secretive nature signaled a change in affection for her. In an extremely fortunate stroke of luck, I happened upon her during a moment of melancholy and she confided in me. I offered to make some discreet inquiries to ascertain if her fears were justified. I told her Kyzal was contemplating divorce. I never actually asked him, of course,” he added as an aside.

  The parallels between Xina’s fears about Kyzal and my jealousy toward Alex weren’t completely lost on me. God, I’m such an idiot.

  “Her life was so wrapped up in being his wife and the future queen that I had no trouble convincing her I could help her with her little dilemma.” He smiled and looked off into the distance, as though recalling a lovely memory. “Once she bought into the idea of losing her husband, the leap from ex-wife to widow wasn’t a difficult one. I provided the drugs, and she made sure he took them.”

  Fucking bastard, I seethed. “What did you hope to accomplish with Kyzal’s death? Alex is even more against exploration of Dekankara than his brother.”

  “You forget I’ve inhabited your dreams. I knew neither you nor Alex wanted a royal life. I banked on abdication of his duties within a year. Then Tannis would be next in line, and while she is intelligent, policy is not her forte. Influencing her would be simple.”

  He might think he knew me, but he obviously had no clue about Tannis if he thought she was a pushover. Probably underestimated her because she is a woman. I added misogynist to Keem’s ever-increasing list of foul characteristics. But why assign logic to a guy who’d saw off his own hand for the sake of obtaining power? In any case, I needed to figure out a way to get out of this before he finished his lovely bedtime story. I had a feeling at its conclusion, he’d try to get me to go to sleep, permanently, and I still hadn’t figured out why I couldn’t just zap his sorry ass.

  “Let me make sure I’ve got all this straight so far. You killed a member of the GZ and Rexa’s top aid and assumed their identities to make certain Dekankara was opened up so you could what? Take over your home dimension?”

  “I could never expect to accomplish that,” he admitted. “I merely wanted a large chunk of the profits. And, I so enjoy being able to manipulate other’s lives.”

  Good to know his only motivation wasn’t power; he was a sick, greedy fuck as well. “Right. When you couldn’t change Kyzal’s mind, you tricked Xina into killing him, certain you’d eventually have Tannis instead of Alex to manipulate.”

  He nodded. “Close enough.”

  “When did you decide to kill me?”

  “I did not,” he spat. “I told you, I’d forgiven you. Tjryxina came up with that idea and implemented it on her own. Somewhere along the line, she decided if she could get you out of Alex’s life, she might still have a chance to be queen. I reluctantly agreed to her plan involving Boklym’s seduction; it seemed innocuous enough. When that failed, she decided on a more fatal strategy. I could have killed her when I found out she was behind your assassination attempt. Oh wait,” he added brightly. “I did.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d killed all sorts of people without a smidgen of remorse, but his revelation came as a shock. “Xina didn’t kill herself?”

  “Of course not. I’ve never met anyone with a more developed sense of self-preservation. Once she went off on her own, I knew I’d never be able to control her again. I forced her to write the suicide note and made her take a handful of sedatives. I thought having her consume the same drugs found in Kyzal was a nice touch, don’t you agree? I used them originally because I never imagined anyone would screen Kyzal for human drugs. But as long as they found them, I decided it would make Xina’s confession all that more believable if she too had them in her system. When she was unconscious, I wrapped a scarf around her neck and hung her. Then, I went and took care of Boklym. Tied everything up in a neat little package and put enough truth in their confessions to make them sound convincing while eliminating any loose ends.”

  I didn’t like the way he looked at me when he mentioned eliminating the loose ends. At this point, there weren’t any ends looser than me. Without a magical solution, I’d have to figure out something else. If I could get to my phone, maybe I could open a line and Alex might hear part of this conversation and realize I was in trouble. As discreetly as possible, I slipped my hand into my pants pocket. My fingers brushed against the device, but not without Keem noticing.

  “I wouldn’t bother trying to call someone; your phone won’t work. Many believe the energy from such devices clashes with meditation and the Adoration Garden is suffused with special magic to suppress any electronic interference. As well as many other forms of magic,” he added with a smirk. “Fortunately, it doesn’t affect my ability to give myself makeovers, but that is why you haven’t been able to defend yourself.”

  Of course; I just can’t catch a break. “I wasn’t trying to use my phone,” I lied. “I’m just a little nervous.”

  “Don’t be. But, just to be safe, let me have what is in your pocket.”

  Reluctantly, I pulled the phone out and handed it to him. He checked to make certain I hadn’t used it.

  “See,” I said, stuffing my hands back in my pocket. “I wasn’t trying to call anyone.”

  Keemjat shut down the phone and placed it on the edge of the fountain. “Just the same, I’ll keep this for now.”

  I nodded, and squeezed the other, much smaller item concealed in my jeans. I just hoped Myrjix was still awake.

  31

  I stared at Keemjat, wondering just how diminished his magical repertoire really was. On the one hand, if he had even a reasonable amount of arcane juice left, he’d have likely used it to wreak havoc on Courso rather than go for the long-game strategy he just laid out. On the other, it would be like the despicable asstard to understate his power. I’d do the same if I were he, and I wasn’t nearly as dangerous.

  He added a few more details of his diabolical plans, nothing particularly enlightening from my point of view, but I wasn’t about to make him stop. The longer he regaled me with what he thought was his masterful scheme, the more time anyone who might rescue me would have to appear. He did reveal that it was his, not Xina’s, interventions that helped Boklym elude capture for so long after the botched attempt to discredit me. He didn’t want to risk Boklym telling all if captured, but Keemjat’s largesse ended once Boklym tried to kill me.

  As time went by, any hope the jyrgitsap’s signal got to Myrjix faded. Even if the gizmo worked this far away from the main part of the palace, she’d have to figure out where I was, as well as determine that I was in trouble. If she somehow managed to find me, but came alone, both of us would be in the same shitty situation.

  I contemplated my options while Keemjat prattled on. With his capacity to change appearance despite the magical constraints built into the garden, he clearly had more supernatural juju than I did. While I couldn’t mount a magical attack, that didn’t mean he couldn’t. Even if I could form-bend, he could do a lot of damage in the interim between human and hawk. Shifting into Birdzilla seemed more unlikely; I didn’t have any of Hewlyxnathin’s elixir, and I wasn’t about to ask Keemjat to shoot me first. I could make a run for it. I might be faster, but if I wasn’t and he caught me, our nice heart-to-heart would end, fast. What I wouldn’t give for a dagger right about now.

  Another plan began to form. Sebastian had spent hours torturing me with obscure scenarios for self-defense; one of those must be applicable. Maybe I wasn’t as helpless as I thought.

  “…all that is unnecessary now, I’m afraid.” Keemjat stared at me, his face a mixture of grim determination and profound sorrow.

  I gave myself a mental slap upside my head for tuning him out, because based on the part I did hear and his current malevolent expression, I was pretty sure I was in deep shit.

  “I hoped it wouldn’t come to
this,” he conceded. “But you’ve forced my hand. You know too much.”

  Only because Mr. Chatterbox couldn’t shut up. All I knew before he started running his mouth off was Keem and Ryxjat were now one and the same; the details of his Machiavellian hustle he freely provided. I was about to point out the irony of the situation when yet another, somewhat familiar, idea popped into my head.

  “Your strategy was so intricate, so well thought out. I’m impressed. Very.” I took a step forward, even though the closer proximity to Keemjat made me want to hurl.

  I tried to sound seductive, even batted my eyelashes a bit for emphasis. Keem didn’t strike me as well versed in male-female interactions, and my assessment must have been correct because he fell for the hackneyed ploy hook, line, and sinker.

  He closed the gap between us, brushing his fingers—the real ones—across my cheek. “You have no idea how difficult it was to be near you and stay in character. Ryxjat was so hateful to you. I have dreamed of the moment you would realize we were meant to be together.”

  I wanted to shout, “That was you being hateful to me, psycho,” but continued without pointing that out. Suppressing my disgust, I somehow forced myself to say, “I want to kiss you so badly, but I can’t while you are Ryxjat. Change for me, baby.”

  If I lived through the night, I should win a damned Oscar for my performance. I was banking on Keem’s bizarre attraction to me, hoping that the energy expended to change appearance would both distract and weaken him. So far so good.

  With only a desirous smile to announce his intentions, his features began to change from one asshole to another. This transformation seemed to take much longer, which bolstered my hypothesis that bouncing back and forth exacted a price.

  Crispy Keem wound his stump around my waist and gazed into my eyes, which began to water in response to his noxious odor. Just as what now passed for his lips almost touched mine, I whispered, “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you if I do you the way I want. I can’t bear the thought of this not being wonderful for both of us.”

  I knew I was taking a risk. If he thought I was at all grossed out by his appearance, he might not react well. But I needed him to change again, and it was better if he thought it was all his idea.

  He stiffened—not in a way that signaled I’d fooled him—and I braced for the violent reaction I feared. Instead, he altered his features again, this time presenting his pre-toasted appearance. “Is this better?” he cooed, but didn’t wait for my answer.

  He kissed me, hard, and it took every bit of self-control not to barf into his pie hole. Instead, I sucked it up—literally—and drew his tongue into my mouth. The maneuver elicited a desire-filled groan, which quickly morphed into a tortured screech when I chomped down.

  Blood burst into my mouth, and I wasn’t sure what was worse—that, Keem’s incessant shrieking, or the small piece of his tongue laying on my own. I had no time to contemplate, so I spat out the bit and used his pain as a distraction while I pummeled him with roundhouse kicks to the head.

  He was strong, and my blows weren’t making him go down. In a rage, he lashed out with a volley of punches to my midsection that made me wish I’d puked earlier. He hadn’t attacked me with magic, though, which gave me some hope I might come out of all this in one piece. Using all the defensive maneuvers I’d learned from Sebastian, I blocked and parried, still trying to land as many of my own blows as possible.

  Despite the rather impressive amount of blood dripping from his mouth, Keem hurled a string of deafening—if somewhat garbled—curses at me as he continued his barrage, this time aimed at my face. A punch caught me square in the nose, causing stars to explode across my vision. I staggered and lost my footing, landing sideways on the edge of the marble fountain. Shit, now my nose and my ribs are probably broken, I thought, sliding to the ground.

  I was now in the worst possible position. Through the pain and nausea, I noticed he wasn’t keeping up the pretense of handsome Keem anymore, but had reverted to his disfigured visage. Realizing I needed to do something fast before he pounded me into pulp, I waited for him to step closer and kicked my legs out, hitting him just above the ankles. The contact didn’t topple him as I’d hoped, but it did throw him off balance. Every inch of my body hurt, but I ignored the agony and dragged myself up into a standing position while he righted himself.

  Keem ran at me, the murderous intent clear in his crazed glare, and I summoned every last iota of strength and determination into one, final stand. I reared back, pushed and pivoted with my legs, and twisted my upper body. My left hand shot forward and connected with his temple. The unmistakable sound of bones snapping echoed through the garden, and from the searing pain coursing through my fingers, I knew they were mine. The momentum forced me backwards, and I fell unceremoniously on my ass. When I looked up, my opponent still loomed over me. Rather than enraged that I’d managed to land a solid blow, he seemed rather indifferent, and then his eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed.

  His chest still rose and fell, so I skittered away, cradling my shattered hand as I increased the distance between us. I had no idea how long he might stay immobilized, and I knew I should get the hell out of there, but I was too beat up and exhausted to move to the door. Leaning my head against the seat of one of the wrought iron benches, I scanned the area for something to use as a weapon in case Keem woke up. The pole holding up a large, metal wind spinner looked promising, but I doubted it would be much help if I couldn’t grab it with both hands.

  Keem began to stir, and my heart thumped wildly in my chest. As I considered my next move, and if I was capable of making one, the door to the garden flew open. My lady-in-waiting sprinted out, followed by a sword-wielding Ziqua. I must be delirious.

  Hallucination Myrjix ran over and crouched next to me. “Are you all right, Your Haileyness?” she asked, surveying me with concern.

  I was deciding if figments of the imagination were capable of speech when I felt a cautious hand grazing my cheek. She must be real, I concluded.

  Myrjix repeated her question. This time, she grimaced as she spoke.

  “Is it that bad?” I croaked. I wanted to smile, but even thinking about grinning made my face ache.

  “Well, it’s more than I feel comfortable handling,” she said diplomatically. “We might have to call The Healer.”

  I must look like shit; she knew how much I hated that blowhard. “You’ll never get better if you don’t practice,” I protested. “At least do something for my hand.”

  Myrjix glanced down and winced. “I’ll infuse some magic for the pain, but hands are tricky. You need a professional.” She touched a spot just above my wrist. “Did that help?”

  “Yeah, a lot. Thanks.” Actually, the sharp, nearly unbearable stabbings only receded into sharp, somewhat less unbearable stabbings, but there was no point in telling her the truth.

  “Too bad you were wearing Dyzopga. Your fingers are so swollen that it might have to be cut off before you can be healed.”

  I was too beat up to explain that my humungous engagement ring was likely the only reason I felled Keem. From across the garden, I heard Ziqua order Keem to stay still, followed by a metallic crash, a grunt, and then, “Next time, don’t test me.”

  “Everything okay over there?” Myrjix shouted, using her body to shield me from whatever might be coming our way.

  Ziqua sauntered over. “The stupid zobojix tried to take away my weapon,” she explained.

  Myrjix pointed at the sword. “Why did you bring that thing?”

  “I saw it displayed on a wall on our way here, and I thought it would add a touch of old-fashioned gallantry to our rescue mission,” she replied. “Good thing I did. I’m having trouble using my magic out here.” Glancing down at me, she asked, “Did it make me look badass?”

  “Absolutely,” I mumbled. “Like Joan of Arc in high-heeled boots.”

  “I’m not entirely sure who that is, but the footwear came in handy, too. Right after he went for the swor
d, I nailed him in the groin.”

  “I’m surprised you thought you needed magic after that,” Myrjix observed.

  I suppressed a laugh, convinced my broken ribs couldn’t handle it, and turned my head to get a better view of Ziqua. “I thought you went back to Jjestri.”

  “I did,” she said, kneeling down so I didn’t have to look up. “But something kept nagging at me, and this morning, I finally figured it out. When you described finding Tjryxina, you mentioned Ryxjat untied her because you didn’t think you’d be tall enough to reach the knot. But Tjryxina was shorter than you are; she couldn’t possibly have tied it herself. I came back to let you all know she didn’t commit suicide.”

  Since Keem already confessed to killing Xina, I just nodded and asked something I didn’t know. “How did you both end up here?”

  “I went to answer your call, but the suite was empty,” Myrjix responded. “The only other time you squeezed for me this late was when there was an intruder in your room. I got worried. Prince Aldegrexynthor and Commander Kess were nowhere to be found, and when none of the staff had seen you, I contacted your tattoo artist. He didn’t know where you might be either, but when I mentioned how you used the jyrgitsap, he reminded me the magical link between them could be exploited like a homing beacon. As soon as I pinpointed where you were, I rushed over. On the way, I ran into Ziqua.”

  “Literally.” Ziqua snickered. “She explained why she was racing around in the middle of the night. I had a feeling something was amiss, so I went with her.”

  “Thank goodness,” Myrjix added, nodding toward the unconscious Keem.

  “He’ll be out for a while,” Ziqua advised. “I’ll stay here with Hailey. You go get help.”

  Myrjix looked to me for approval, and when I nodded, she stood and scurried off in search of assistance.