Ill Will

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Ill Will Page 11

by Cate Corvin


  “Tenebris, you’re to collect the ocean tax from the mermaids of Gravesend Bay.”

  I breathed a silent sigh of relief. How hard could it be to deal with mermaids?

  “I’m done! I don’t speak mermaid!” Apolline pulled a glob of stringy brown seaweed off her face. She was soaked with oily, brackish water from head to toe. “You handle her, Will!”

  The mermaid turned her enormous, lash-less gaze on Will. There was nothing of mythology’s sirens in these mermaids; their skin was mottled green and gray, hair tangled in slimy hunks, and they were covered in crude tattoos and piercings. The mermaid who’d come to the surface as the bay queen’s main delegate wore several rusted safety pins, a Coke can tab, the wire binding of a spiral notebook, and a teaspoon in her vestigial earlobes. Metal watches lined her arms from wrist to finned elbow.

  My stepbrother rolled his eyes and strode down the rocks to the shore, where he knelt to talk with her.

  Or rather, play an alarmingly pathetic game of charades, in which the mermaid looked at him like he was an idiot, and Will grew increasingly irritated.

  Sura sighed, his shoulders slumped and thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “We’re gonna be here all night.”

  “Yeah, if we have to rely on Will handling this. Knightley gave us this assignment and his little spiel for a reason.” Reciprocation, and dealing with Shadowed Worlders on their own terms. Mermaids were a part of Faerie, but they tended to be the more earthly Fae, adapting to their local environments, to the degree that cold iron had less effect on them. These particular mermaids clearly took ‘one man’s trash, another mermaid’s treasure’ to heart. “Let’s go find some bargaining chips.”

  Will’s head snapped around when Sura and I left the main pack of Tenebris, who were all staring at the mermaids in bemused fascination. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To find some grease for the squeaky wheels. Keep her happy, we’ll be right back.” I avoided his jade gaze, hating how I still heated under that vivid stare. I couldn’t help but picture the way his eyes had looked when he gazed down at me in the Sugarworks, the burning lust and want slowly morphing into shame and horror.

  “Think things’ll ever stop being awkward, Victoria the Beautiful?”

  I snorted, picking up a can and tossing it in a trash bin. Too pedestrian- the mermaids probably had plenty of cans. “Probably not. He hates me, and that little stunt Sitri pulled didn’t help.”

  Something glinted at me from underfoot, and I knelt to pull a loop of wire out of the sand. That was a start.

  “You know, sometimes Will puts on a false face. You can be intimidating, Tori.”

  I let out a short laugh and strung several soda can tabs on the wire, followed by two glittering yellow crystal beads.

  “Seriously? You know what the first words Will ever said to me were? I didn’t even get the word ‘hello’ out of my mouth before he was being a dickhole.” I put on the most unflattering impression of Will’s voice I could muster. “‘Where’d you get this, the dumpster outside a Pump n’ Dump?’ I didn’t want Mom to get married, either, but here we are, and he’s never given me the slightest chance. So, fuck Will. Not literally, but figuratively. With a cactus.”

  Sura stared at me, the slightest hint of a grin on his lips. “Wow. Anything else you need to get off your chest?”

  I shrugged, stringing a few more shiny bits on the wire. “I just don’t want to hear I’m intimidating when I’ve tried to be nice from the first day I met him, and he’s thrown it back in my face. Same with everyone in this damn school. You know why I’m here? It’s not for my own edification.”

  “Why, then?” Sura handed me another bead, a black pearl dulled by the waves and sand.

  “My brother…” For a second, my throat swelled shut again, same as it always did before I talked about James. The smell of ash, char, cooking flesh seared my nose… then I took a breath, and all I smelled was brine, fog, and gasoline. “My brother James was a year older than me. His dream was to earn a scholarship to Libra. I never wanted to do this- I wanted to be like Dad, and just learn the family trade.”

  Sura was blessedly quiet. If I stopped, I might never get started again. He found a fishhook and carefully cupped it in his palm.

  “James went out one night to hunt. He came across a Sathanas demon that’d taken advantage of a newbie conjurer. The conjurer was already dead, and James killed the demon… or so he thought.” I took another deep inhale of sea air. I was on the shore. The fire was miles and years behind me. “It followed him home and… cut his throat. Mom was never the fastest with a blade, and I was so shocked, I couldn’t move. After James died, it… you know… burst into flame.”

  That’s what Sathanas demons did best. When they left the mortal realm, they exploded into flame and brimstone.

  “Our house wasn’t big. It went up in seconds. Even though I was panicking, I grabbed the picture of James and me on the way out. It’s all I’ve got left of him. Not a body, not a grave, just a picture. I’m here because he wanted to come here, and I thought it might make Mom happy… and Will’s just been an asshole the entire time.”

  I realized I’d stopped walking, my boots planted and being swallowed by the sand. Sura was at my elbow, and after a moment of hesitation, he snaked his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug against his warm, broad chest that felt like sinking behind a protective shield.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on him. His heart sped up, pounding under my cheek.

  He stroked my hair, all the way down my neck to my back. “You belong wherever you choose to be, Tori.”

  “Tell that to Will.”

  He went silent for another minute, just holding and stroking me, until my heart had stopped banging against my ribs and the memories of flame and ash had banked again, tucked away in my memories.

  “I will tell him.” Sura gripped my shoulders, looking down into my face like he’d never really seen me before. “I want you here. You want to be here. Who gives a shit what anyone else thinks?”

  “Not me,” I whispered, but there was something dark in his features that put me on edge.

  “Not us.” He leaned closer, his irises cut from the same cloth as the night sky, the deep shade of his skin painted with the colors of the city lights. “So… while I’m not promising to fuck Will with a cactus, I’m here for you.”

  My heart started pounding from a much different emotion. Sura had made it very clear he was just a flirt, that sex meant nothing… and Prince Sitri had showed me just how weak I was, how desperately I craved physical affection after years without.

  I braced my hands on his chest and tried to push myself away, but he had the grip of a bear.

  “But would you fuck him with something gentler? A ficus, perhaps?”

  Sura laughed and let me slip out of his arms. “Maybe a nice philodendron.”

  “Nah, the ficus has more ridges.”

  Regardless of whether Will was actually in imminent danger of being fucked with foliage, the moment of tension was broken. Exactly what I wanted.

  Well, not quite exactly… but it was better than being made the fool again. The last thing I needed was to be lured in by the desire to kiss Sura again.

  It was about time to reinstate Operation: Human Dick, stat.

  I held up the wire strung with beads, pop tabs, and holey stones. “Think she’ll like it?”

  Sura bent down, picked up a paperclip, and strung it on the wire. “Perfect.”

  I twisted the ends of the wire together, and we walked back to Tenebris in companionable silence. Apolline was sulking on the grass, and Will’s face was hard with irritation when we returned.

  “Move aside and watch a pro handle it,” I said, kneeling next to Will. This close to the mermaid, I saw every mottle in her skin, her filmy secondary eyelids, the translucent sheen of her teeth. She smelled dizzyingly of brine and silt.

  The bracelet sparkled when I held it out, dangling from one fi
ngertip, and the mermaid’s eyes widened in temporary interest. Gotcha, trash-maid. “This is all yours, free and clear with no debts incurred, if you send up the King’s taxes right now.” Even as an earthly Fae, they liked when you specified the total lack of debt. I had her right where I wanted her.

  Then she called my bluff. A bubble popped on her lips and she looked away.

  Well, shit.

  “You sure? The sparkle of the beads would look very fetching against your scales, if I do say so myself.”

  The mermaid gave me a skeptical look, but she couldn’t quite hide the glint of avarice in her eyes.

  Sura knelt next to me, completely dwarfing me with his presence. “What if I throw in a fishhook and a watch? Free of debts, of course.”

  The bay queen’s majordomo slid her head his way. There was something almost serpentine in their movements, whether it was on land or water; she watched hungrily as Sura stripped off his stainless-steel watch and held it out to her.

  She made a burbling noise that sent chills down my spine, and several ripples appeared on the water behind her. We’d known perfectly well she wasn’t alone, but they were so silent and invisible in their own element, it was impossible not to be a little creeped out when they emerged from beneath the surface.

  Ten minutes later, a trash bag stuffed to the brim with odd, misshapen pearls was tossed on the shore, and the mermaid had snatched both the bracelet and Sura’s watch, with the fishhook thrown in for good measure.

  “What does Thraustila want pearls for?” I asked, trying to touch as little of the bag as possible.

  “Who the hell knows?” Apolline said impatiently, as Sura took the bag from me with a grin.

  “Nice work, partner. We’re gonna kick everyone else’s ass on practicals.”

  The rest of Tenebris was already trooping back to our limo, but Will hung behind, expressionless.

  “Good thinking, Tori,” he said, his mouth tightening when Sura draped an arm around me again. “Maybe I spoke too soon about your ability to handle Fae.”

  Heat flared to life low in my abdomen, but luckily the prospect of having the bag of silty pearls that looked like bits of bone touch me put a damper on the idea of trying to kiss Sura again.

  I frowned as we walked back to the limo. I’d been determined not to kiss him anyways, hadn’t I? Weird how I kept forgetting that. All I had to do was look into his eyes, catch the faintest shadow of a grin on his full lips, and I’d suddenly forget all the reasons I shouldn’t be attracted to Sura.

  And somehow, that magnetic attraction almost completely overshadowed the fact that a) Will had just paid me an ungrudging compliment, and b) he’d admitted he was wrong. For about two seconds, I almost felt bad about my desire to fuck him with a cactus. Almost.

  “The Fae like to trade, don’t they?” I asked with a shrug. All my knowledge of the Fae came from books. I’d met ondines, pixies, and mermaids, but never one of the higher castes.

  Then I remembered where we were going next. Just the thought of Club Bathory sent my stomach plunging towards the ground. “Uh… are we taking the ocean tax to Thraustila ourselves?”

  Will gave me an odd look. “Yeah, that’s part of the contract. We collect the tax and bring it to him, he gets to lay eyes on the next generation of enemies, we get to see his throne and report everything back to Knightley and Burns.”

  My heart was in my throat. All I saw in my mind’s eye was the Viking-like knight dragging himself across the roof to his dead sister’s corpse, roaring curses at me.

  If he was there, with the remaining Morrígna, I’d be dead before I ever laid eyes on Thraustila.

  “You okay, Tori?” Sura’s voice sounded like it came from far away.

  “I’m fine.” I swallowed back my fear. If I ran away or refused to complete the practical, it was over for me. James’ dream would be forever out of my grasp. If Càel was there… I could invoke the nullification of Guilloux’s Law. At the very least, that’d buy me some time to come up with a plan to escape.

  Maybe I’d be able to stay behind in the limo with a few others.

  Will was still giving me a strange look, but he got in the limo and took the bag of pearls from Sura.

  It took half an hour for the limo to pull up in front of Club Bathory, but in my anxious mind, the ride only lasted thirty seconds. I blinked and the shore was gone, and I was looking up at the brownstone that was bathed in red lights.

  “The throne is under the club,” Will said. “You all wait here until our business is concluded. I’ll take Sura and… Tori as my retinue.”

  For a moment, even he looked surprised at his choice, like he’d meant to say another name and mine had forced its way out instead.

  A few weeks ago, I would’ve been thrilled. Now, I just felt like I was going to puke. But if I backed down, any progress I would’ve made in my relationship with Will would crumble under my feet like dust.

  Self-preservation, or a solid, stepsisterly bond? Either way, I’d have to face Càel eventually.

  I climbed out of the limo after Sura, and Will slammed the door shut. “Tori, you’ve got the least experience with vampires.” Oh, boy. “Just smile and nod and look pretty. Let me do the talking.”

  For some reason my mind stuck on that last one as we followed him inside. Look pretty? Did that mean he thought I was pretty, or was it just a figure of speech?

  What a dumb thing to be worried about when I was sure I was going to end up drained and beheaded sometime in the next fifteen minutes.

  The low-lit, human-friendly first floor bar was staffed by a vampire, a woman who looked like a caricature of a 1930’s silver screen starlet. She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow, pursed lips so red they were nearly black, and patted a set of platinum pin-curls as she looked Sura over.

  “You’re early,” she said, in a breathy, theatrical accent. “The King likes punctuality in a slayer.”

  Will flashed her a smile, but his green eyes were chilly. “You must be the lovely Chloe.”

  Chloe simpered, but she was just as cold and watchful as Will. She pulled back a heavy velvet curtain that had been blocking the view of a bare brick hallway. “Down the stairs to your left. Sisbert will help you down.”

  Our very own vampire escort. Fabulous.

  Every hair on my body was standing straight up as I followed Will down a set of metal stairs, completely focused on keeping my hand off the hilt off my sword. Now that Thraustila’s Laws would be in full effect here, touching a weapon in his presence was probably the vampire equivalent of a death threat.

  It turned out Sisbert was a squat, hard vampire who was all muscle and scar tissue, with a heavy executioner’s axe slung across his back. He grunted at Will when he saw us and opened a dented metal door. Old blood stained the concrete stairs, overlaid by the sharp reek of bleach.

  We followed Sisbert down two more levels, and he finally halted us in front of a door painted the precise color of arterial blood.

  My palms had gone clammy, and even Will was a shade paler than usual, but Sura was as casual as ever, looking around the underside of Club Bathory and openly examining Sisbert.

  With roughly ten minutes remaining on my estimated lifespan, I had the sudden urge to turn and run, scholarship be damned, but Sisbert strode behind us, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking the stairwell. He grunted again and tipped his chin at the door.

  Will gripped the bag of pearls with white knuckles, pushed the door open, and we walked into King Thraustila’s court together.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ________

  TORI

  Even though my heart was beating so hard I tasted blood, I kept myself outwardly calm, flanking right while Sura took Will’s left.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting from a vampire’s throne room, but it was set up like an actual court, complete with a massive gilded chair where the vampire king lounged while he watched our approach. Numerous vampires watched from the sidelines, but my attention was reserve
d for the dais.

  The only thing that kept the surprise off my face at the sight of Thraustila was the fact that Càel the White Wolf was standing right next to the king’s throne, his pale blue eyes searing right through me. Now that he was fully healed, no longer twisted and broken, he stood half a foot taller than the average man, built on the same bear-like lines as Sura. He wore an old, notched broadsword across his back, almost as long as I was tall, and he never looked away from me for a single second.

  Every thump of my heart was painful, like a fist squeezing the final remaining beats.

  Two vampire women flanked the king’s other side, the same configuration we’d formed around Will. One was tall, with braids of red hair hanging to her waist, her face a strange mix of age and youth: hard blue eyes glared out from a young, freckled face. The other was shorter, softer, her strawberry-blonde waves loose, gray eyes focused on Will with level watchfulness.

  The remaining Morrígna both held swords and axes, as though waiting for us to strike first, and wore leather armor. They’d prepared for war on our arrival. From the way they stood, it was easy to picture the missing piece of their puzzle: Eluned Ravensbane’s spot was left empty. I wondered which was Morgrainne Crowfoot and Rhianwen Moonfawn.

  It was King Thraustila who took me by surprise the most. I’d expected a vampire like Sisbert: someone made entirely of scars, gristle, and muscle.

  A lanky sixteen-year-old boy stared back at us, black hair flopping in his eyes. Rings of old eyeliner stained the skin under his eyes, so he looked like he watched us out of dark pits, and he wore heavy steel rings on every finger, depicting motifs of skulls, crosses, and roses. The one on his left thumb said FUCK in pretty cursive letters.

  He wore nothing but a kilt and heavily-buckled Goth boots, with a ruby-studded medallion resting on his thin, pale chest.

  When my surprise at Thraustila’s apparent youth faded, my gaze was drawn back to Càel, like his hate emitted an irresistible force I couldn’t help but answer to.

 

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