by S. A. Ravel
5
He’d woken hours ago, immediately rose from his bed, and went straight to the courtyard.
Karina had beat him there, staring at the masterpiece on the stone.
She turned as he approached. “This is… is.” She shook her head. “Disturbing and brilliant. I don’t know what the hell it is, but we’re cordoning off the area and a crew will be here to seal the stones and build a fence around the painting. Sky and Stars, Davin… can you repeat this?”
He stared at the kaleidoscope, the brilliant universe he’d painted with earth-born colors—and his own blood. It was mad. It was beautiful.
It would make them so much money.
“Get this photographed immediately, and arrange an exhibit,” he snapped. “I want ticket prices slashed in half for a week to get word of mouth and then raise it to the price of an Institute Gold Level membership.”
She looked irritated. “You don’t have to tell me how to market. I’m ahead of you. Can you repeat this?”
“If she stays.”
Karina stared. “The human woman? What the hell were you two doing?”
“I don’t… know. Her voice acted as some kind of amplifier. It unlocked parts of my power I didn’t even know existed. I—” For once in a very long time, he was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what the hell she is, but if she’s fully human, I’ll shear my flight feathers.”
His Director’s eyes narrowed. “Alien or part Aikalah?”
“I don’t know. But she is now mine. I won’t give her up for anything.”
“That might be easier said than done. You can’t go around kidnapping—”
Davin waved a hand, offended and hugely irritated. “Who said anything about kidnapping? I’ll seduce her.”
Karina snorted. “That woman is nearly as pretty as you are, and I heard her sing.”
“So?”
“So, that means she is as spoiled and self-absorbed as you. You’ll have a hard time seducing her. You might have to actually make an effort.”
He chewed on a fingernail, then stopped when he realized what he was doing. “I’ll seduce her. I haven’t met a woman yet whose panties I couldn’t soak in—”
“Please, spare me.” Karina cast him a withering look and turned on her heels, striding away. “Keep her here, but by the Sky, you’d better not do anything illegal, Davingelo.”
As if.
Davin left soon after, entering Perrine’s room and settling onto a chair with a tall, narrow back to accommodate Aikalah, letting his wings rest against the floor. He watched her slowly wake. It was an interesting process, and he didn’t feel the least bit voyeuristic. She was in his house after all.
Davingelo smiled. She was in his house. The lush, tempting human singer with a voice that he knew was worth the weight of his hall in whatever precious metals or currencies her people worshiped. He would shower her with it, once she agreed to stay.
She had no choice but to comply—he’d make her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
Perrine sat up, shoving hair out of her face, her expression vulnerable with brief confusion. Davingelo’s body tightened. With possessiveness, with satisfaction, with desire. Yes, he would keep her. His muse, his lover. His challenge.
The human songbird and the Archan artist. How fitting.
It all felt like a dream. A moonlit fantasy, a handsome Aikalah stranger. No, not a stranger, one of the most famous men on the island. A tragic recluse who’d lost everything when he lost his muse, only to find it by chance in Perrine. On a night when a two-bit gangster had decided to lay a claim on her.
Perrine fully expected to open her eyes and find herself in her own bedroom. Or maybe slumped over her desk in Parodie. She couldn’t remember going home, and it wouldn’t have been the first time that she crashed in her office. More than once, she’d thought about unloading her home and moving into the office full-time, but affordable real estate was still hard to come by. It had taken several favors in both directions and cold hard credits to get her into a home of her own; she needed time to make sure she recouped that investment in the sale. Another thing to add to her to-do list for the day.
Except when Perrine opened her eyes, she wasn’t in her bedroom or in her office. The room was too small and far too dimly lit and sparsely furnished to be either. The architecture was all wrong. Her little house had been built for a human settler, with ceilings and doors built to human height. The room was small, but the towering ceiling and massive doorway were a dead giveaway; Aikalah used this room. She lived alone, and everyone on staff at Parodie knew better than to get anywhere near her office without announcing themselves. But she wasn’t alone.
Perrine’s eyes snapped open and she sat, shoving hair out of her eyes before her gaze snagged on a tall, blond male Aikalah. Davingelo.
The details of the previous night flooded back to her memory. The impossible painting, the magical song, and the painter came first. Then the hazier memory of seeing him collapse against the stones, and hearing people rushing around them as the darkness claimed her too. After that, she couldn’t remember a thing. Not being moved to the bed, not having her clothes changed. A wave of exhaustion followed right on the memories’ heels. Now that her muscles knew why they should be tired and sore, the usual force of will wasn’t enough to keep her upright anymore.
The room in front of her changed, shimmering out of existence for a moment, only to be replaced by the stone gazebo. Perrine raked the backs of her fingers across her eyes, smearing her makeup as she desperately tried to bring reality back. It worked; when she opened her eyes again, she was back in the room with the bare white walls, the artist still staring at her. His facial expression hadn’t even changed.
“Your life must be interesting, no?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. I’ve heard humans have weak constitutions and you’ve be unconscious for several hours.”
Perrine stared at him, pushing away the light coverlet and swinging her legs to the side of the bed. “You really are a bastard, aren’t you? I’d heard rumors.” She tried to stand, and realized her rubbery legs had other ideas.
“I object to the use of the word bastard,” he said. “It is technically incorrect if you are referring to my parentage.”
“Non… did you say several hours?”
Perrine forced herself to her feet, gripping the carved bedpost as a kind of cane. He was next to her a second later, an arm around her waist. She slapped hands against the warm, sculpted chest, bare because he hadn’t bothered to button his shirt.
“I’m curious about something,” he said.
Perrine sucked in a breath, eyes caught by his, the twin gold orbs glowing. “I don’t think I’m interested in whatever makes you curious. Let me go.”
“In time, in time. I have a theory.” His free hand reached for a strand of her hair, curling a lock around his fingers. Perrine tried to jerk her head away, but his grip, and a look, halted her. A second later, the look was gone, and she hoped she’d imagined things. A dilettante she could deal with. An Archan would crush her if she offended him. “We met earlier. I wanted you then, but…” He shrugged, looking briefly sour. “We don’t always get what we want, when we want it. Even an Archan.”
The casual admission of lust floored her. It was so different than the studied phrases or the crude propositions she often received. It was matter of fact, in a chilling way, because concealed within the plain words was a certainty that because he wanted her, he would have her.
“But you came to me.”
Perrine inhaled sharply to protest. “I didn’t come to you. I was in the area.”
“Hmm. You came to me. And we made magic together, as boorishly trite as that sounds. I wonder if the best way to replicate what happened—”
“Replicate?”
“Is to take you to my bed. Sex is a powerful source of—”
Perrine jerked away, curling her hands into fists and pushing against his chest for leverag
e. His eyes flashed, and she couldn’t move an inch.
“Be still,” he said, voice soothing—but edged. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You just said—”
“I know what I said, Perrine. I’m not actually insane.” His hand threaded through her hair at her nape as his head lowered, mouth hovering over hers. “I want to taste you. I always get what I want. I’m spoiled.”
“And if I say no?”
“I wouldn’t.”
Before she could decide if that was a threat or a statement of fact, the door opened and a woman too beautiful to be human, despite the lack of wings, stood in the threshold. Beyond them, the hallway opened to reveal a courtyard... and a black sky full of stars.
Merde…
The woman stared at Davin. “Really?”
Davingelo turned to the door and stared. “What do you want, Karina?”
A too-wide smile spread across the woman’s sharp face, lighting up her eyes just enough to make people think she cared about them. “Is he bothering you, dear? Davin, have you even offered her something to eat?” Off the last, she tilted her head downward and Perrine finally noticed the tray in her hands.
“She just awoke.” He was obviously displeased, and strode forward to take the tray away from Karina. The woman held it fast. He snarled at her, and she raised a heeled foot to slam it down over his toe when he danced away, as quick as an angel.
“You fiend!” he exclaimed.
Karina strolled towards Perrine and set the tray down on the bed, surveying her up and down with pursed lips. “You don’t look like you have brain damage. How do you feel?”
“I’m… fine.”
Karina continued to study her. “The two of you kicked up enough power that you should have been out a week. That you’re even alive is a wonder. Humans aren’t built to play Archan games.”
“No, they aren’t,” Davin said.
Unease stirred. Perrine glanced between the two angels. She knew there were half human, half Aikalah hybrids in existence. Thus, the woman standing in front of her without wings.
“My parents are both human,” Perrine said.
“It doesn’t have to be one of them,” Karina said as Davin crossed his arms. Perrine’s eyes roved involuntarily over the sculpted chest revealed by his unbuttoned black shirt. He noticed her looking and raised a brow, a dimple appearing when he half-smiled. Perrine scowled and looked away. She was still shaken from the almost kiss, the near miss. “It could be a grandparent, even three or four generations removed. Sometimes it only takes a drop of DNA. But for now…”
The woman grabbed Davingelo by the arm and pulled him out of the room. She slammed the door in his face before he could protest. “There, now you can eat in relative peace. He wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
“I don’t have time to eat. Where are my clothes?” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but it was a losing battle. She had the energy to stay on her feet, or control her emotions, not both.
The other woman’s demeanor shifted from regal angel to a take-no-prisoner business woman. Even her tone and cadence shifted. “The pigments from the duet stained your dress. It’s still being laundered. We couldn’t find your shoes.”
“Wasn’t wearing any. That’s what you’re calling what happened? A duet? Sounds slick.”
The Aikalaan shrugged. “Packaging is one of the things I do around here. Welcoming guests is another. I’m the Director.” She bowed her head deeply, letting her sleek hair fall over her shoulder to hide her face, the Aikalah gesture of trust.
“Perrine Despre.” She didn’t buy it for a second.
“Yes, I know.” Karina gestured toward Perrine’s communicator on the end table next to the bed. “Your assistant tried to reach you hours ago. You don’t need to worry,” she said of Perrine’s wide eyes. “I only told her that we were working on the details of a fundraiser, and you might be working late into the evening.”
“Are you?”
“We usually hold fundraisers here to keep expenses down. Are you interested in the arts, Mademoiselle Despre?”
Perrine shrugged. “Madam. And not enough to let you use my venue for free.”
Karina chuckled. “Your voice is professionally trained.”
Thanks to her mother. Perrine was a classically trained singer and pianist with proficiency in three styles of music. Her musical training was a holdover from the early days of human settlement. Humans thought they loved the arts, but the Aikalah put them to shame. Davingelo was the most famous painter on Nevhana, but there were other equally famous artists working in different mediums there and more besides on every other island on Ailaut. For the first generation, artistic study was a way to help their children adapt. For Laura and Narcisse’s generation, it was a display of wealth, even when it was smoke and mirrors.
No matter how much money her father earned that week, Perrine never missed a music lesson. Laura made sure of it. Now, Perrine rarely used her skills except for the occasional song or two a month at Parodie. An Aikalah could make a nice living as an artist, but if a human on Ailaut wanted money—real money—they found somewhere else to get it.
“Thank you. And thanks for giving me a bed for the night—day, but I need to go home and change so I can go to work.” Perrine snatched her communicator from the table and turned to head for the door.
“Would you consider doing it again?” Karina asked.
“Excuse me?”
Her face was impassive. “I will do you the courtesy of being frank. We need you.”
“Uhh…”
Karina reached down to snatch a tidbit of food from the cooled platter, eyes trained on Perrine’s face. “Did you know this institute is also a school and boarding house for homeless children? Ones with talents, many like yours.”
“What does it have to do with me?”
“Davingelo hasn’t painted anything for three years. Until he met you, and your duet unlocked something in him that we’ve tried every therapy, every vice, every trick to bring out.”
The words hit Perrine like a bucket of ice. Davingelo’s paintings went for hundreds of thousands of credits. She’d known, peripherally because of the arts circle she ran in, that he hadn’t had a showing in a while. She hadn’t realized it wasn’t by choice. If what Karina said was true… Perrine tensed. An Archan was an Archan, even if he masqueraded as a regular Aikalah. If she didn’t get out now, he would never let her go.
“I only saw a few seconds of what happened between you and Davin, and it was the most powerful thing I’ve ever witnessed. Patrons would donate to see it. People would pay to see it. With your help, we could do a lot of good here, Madam Despre.”
“Do I have a choice?”
Karina’s brow rose. “Of course, You aren’t a prisoner.” But she paused, as if the idea had occurred to them.
“As an artist, I’m intrigued. But I have my own business and—”
“About your business.” The Director smiled. “I pulled up your financials.”
Fury. “You had no right.”
“Of course, I did. I wouldn’t insult you by asking you to work for free.” She paused, amused. “Davin will likely try to seduce you to cooperate. But I happen to think credits would appeal to you more.”
Perrine’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t like that this woman knew her weakness. “I like rich, handsome men. Why wouldn’t I let him seduce me?”
“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Karina chose another tidbit of food. “You should really eat. You’re standing now, but it will hit you in a little while. Anyway… take the offer. Davin is a wild ride. He’ll shower you with drama, attention, smother you with any twisted, lewd sex act you want. But be smart and get some money out of it. And, of course, there’s the children. Without Davin’s paintings, this place will close very soon.”
It really was an offer she couldn’t refuse. There wasn’t much that Perrine wanted other than her freedom and ownership of her home and business free and clear. A lot of money coul
d accomplish all of that, but if Karina had money, she wouldn’t be asking a human nightclub owner for help.
“I’ll consider your proposal, since you did me the courtesy of not treating me like a fool.” Perrine pulled open the door, and Davin greeted her, looming in the doorway. He stared down at her, unblinking. “Excuse me.”
Davingelo didn’t move. His wild, glowing eyes never left her face. There was so much tension in his muscles that they seemed to vibrate beneath his skin. Perrine had the sensation of watching a man clinging to the edge of a cliff.
“You can’t leave,” he said.
“Like hell I can’t. Move.”
He didn’t budge. “You can go when we figure out what happened out there, and how to replicate it.”
“I told you, I’m not interested.”
“In that case… what about fame?”
Perrine canted her head toward Karina. “She tried the money angel.”
Davingelo took a step back away from the doorway. “We have connections to get you into the community. Trained or not, you have an intoxicating voice. Karina can arrange introductions to patrons.”
Karina’s pitch was good… for someone like her. Davingelo’s pitch was good for someone like Perrine. Access to that world was easy for an Aikalah. Their long lifespans and natural magic gave them abilities that human artists only dreamed possible. It wasn’t impossible, but the odds were bad enough that Perrine chose to go into the family business, rather than chase a child’s dream.
She glanced back at Karina, who nodded.
“I can make the necessary introductions, yes.” She looked like she could say more, but held back. It’s what Perrine would have done. Why risk overselling when the mark was already in the hook?
Perrine knew better than to get her hopes up. Her father always told her hope was like wine. It was fine in moderation. The problem was one couldn’t tell what moderation was until one had long passed it. No, she wouldn’t let herself have hope in Davingelo’s offer.
But… if the two Aikalaan were being straight with her… then they could be her last chance for keeping Lans Madson’s hands off her ass. With their patronage, would automatically come some kind of protection, if only to protect their investment and reputations. But the keyword being if. Davin was just the right side of out of his mind, and Karina’s allegiance was to AINA.