The Devil's Concubine ARC

by Jill Braden

  She joined him at the railing. “Then go.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I don’t believe you. But even if it were true, there are far worse places than Ponong to live in exile.”

  “Once you get used to coming home to an apartment infested with monkeys because you left your window screen open, and checking your boots every morning for those little lizards, or those hot chilies they hide in your food in the marketplace, or being robbed ten minutes after you first set foot on the island.” He turned to her. “What was that about?”

  “I foresaw your future here, and objected to it. Now I see that I was wrong.”

  He clutched his chest. “You were wrong? Amazing. I’ll remember this moment forever.”

  “Oh, do be quiet.”

  “Are you going to tell me this future?”

  “No need to. It’ll unfold as it unfolds.” Serious again, she gazed down at her hands. “But as surely as the future begins, some things reach their end.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “I swear that you now know everything I do about the Ravidians. Do you agree that I’ve kept my end of our bargain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell me now who killed Jezereet. I think I know, but after the things you’ve shown me the past few days, I want to be very sure that I have the right culprit.”

  “I don’t think this is the time.”

  “We won’t reach Cay Rhi for hours. When else but now?”

  “The whole truth?”

  “You know how we Ponongese like our stories,” she said. “Make it a good story, Kyam.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Hands clasped, Kyam thought for a while before speaking.

  “We were down at the harbor doing the preliminary sketches for your portrait. When the funicular took me to the top of the hill, I decided to stick around and follow you to find out if I could get any leverage to force your hand. I got it, but believe me, not the way I would have chosen.”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “Ivitch came up on the next funicular after me and took off running upslope. I would have followed him, but I knew that he was a werewolf and it was full moon. Besides, it was you I wanted. So I waited. And waited. Then the last cars came up and you still didn’t show. The sun was setting. That’s when I really started to worry about you. I almost headed down to the harbor when you finally staggered up the hill, looking like walking death. My first thought was that Ivitch was the Devil and he’d beaten you. It was hard to watch you, wracked with pain, fighting on the way you do. And then seeing you begging in that alleyway for vinegar!”

  “Those men were quite helpful.”

  “They treated you like a pariah. They knew it was full moon and saw how hurt you were and still let you walk away.” He shook his head. “Unbelievably, you kept going. The look on your face when you stood in front of that vine at the Red Happiness. Such utter exhaustion. Anyone else would have broken down in tears. Not you. Grim determination is more your style. It wasn’t easy to stand back and let you climb up to the second story veranda, but I did, because I was sure you were near your breaking point.”

  That’s what she would have done. It was good to know that he was willing to do what he had to. That was the kind of person she could count on.

  “I already knew you had some sort of relationship with Jezereet, so I went into that voyeur’s room between her room and the one next to it.”

  “There weren’t any viewing holes through her wall. We plastered over them a long time ago.”

  Kyam cleared his throat. “There are now.”

  “Ah. Very resourceful.” QuiTai wondered if he’d watched them together more than the one time, and if he would have turned away if she and Jezereet had been intimate. Not that there was much of a chance of that; at the end, Jezereet only had one appetite, and it wasn’t for heated kisses.

  “It was frustrating, watching that look on your face, as if you knew something was wrong about the way Jezereet acted, but seeing that you were too tired to put it together. I didn’t have a chance of figuring it out. Until you took the vapor. Then it all became too clear.”

  Little flashes of QuiTai’s memory were like puzzle pieces that fit together in a surreal picture. Too many pieces were still missing, although she suspected she knew what fit into the spaces. She braced herself. “Did I kill her?”

  “What? No!”

  She hadn’t thought so, but she couldn’t rule it out. The vapor stole a slice of time from her that would always be blank.

  “Was I the intended victim?”

  Kyam nodded. “At least, you were the first one he headed to, and he only stopped because he was interrupted.”

  “Was Jezereet working with him?”

  Kyam flinched. That was enough of an answer.

  He licked his lips, and then spoke carefully as if he weighed each word. “She fought him when he put his hands around your throat. I ran out into the hallway, so I missed part of what happened, but when I kicked in the door, he’d already broken her neck and was headed back to finish you off. I don’t know why he didn’t attack me, but he went out the window onto the veranda and leapt down to the street. That’s why I had to get you out of there. He could have come back.”

  Revenge seemed like a moot point now, especially since Jezereet had invited the murderer in, but the name was what she’d bargained for, not a happy ending to a sad story.

  “What is his name?”

  Kyam shrugged. “I know I promised to give that to you, but all I know is what he looks like. He’s a werewolf with reddish hair, and a medium build for one of his kind. He wasn’t captured with the others that were taken to the fortress.”

  There was no way she could deceive herself anymore. Petrof.

  She’d made him the Devil. She’d solidified his power and run his organization. Instead of anger, though, all she felt was vast disappointment and a strangely calm acceptance. She’d known for a while that it was Petrof who tried to strangle her. Even without Kyam’s broad hints and accusations, she’d known. It seemed inevitable.

  She squinted, as if trying to focus on something far away. “His name is Petrof.”

  “Is he the Devil?”

  “He’s the leader of the wolf pack.” That wasn’t a direct lie, she told herself. Besides, what exactly did she owe Kyam? Not a word about the Devil. Their deal only included the Ravidians. That mess with the colonial military proved that she had good cause to keep her secrets.

  “Damn it! I hoped –”

  “I know what you hoped, Mister Zul. But never fear. I will see that he pays for Jezereet’s death.”

  “Will you let me help you?”

  Sadly, she shook her head. Then, with a small smile, she caressed his cheek. “This is the Devil’s business.”

  Color flooded his face. “What has he done except let a mad dog killer come after you again and again? How does he hold your loyalty? I’d love to know why you set aside your safety for his convenience, when as far as I can tell he’s never done a damn thing for you!” He pointed to her throat. “Do you think this is the first time I’ve seen bruises on your neck?”

  She pointed to the wrapping around her ankle, and pulled down the shoulder of her blouse to show him the purple and yellow bruise on her upper arm. “These past few days with you haven’t been restful.”

  “Don’t you try to pin the blame for any of that on me! That’s Petrof’s doing, not mine.”

  “And he will pay. I assure you.”

  “The risks you’re taking aren’t worth it.”

  “Don’t you dare try to take the satisfaction of revenge from me.”

  “You’ll enjoy it, won’t you?”

  “You knew what I was when we set out on this little adventure. Don’t try to change me now.”

  He snarled with frustration as his hands twitched at his sides. “Damn it! I’m not trying to change you. I’m just trying to make you see that the Devil doesn’t love you.”

>   She snorted. “Of course he doesn’t.”

  That gave him pause, but he’d worked up indignation and he had to vent it. “Yet another person you love who doesn’t love you in return.”

  She laughed. “What makes you think that I love the Devil? Do I strike you as the lovesick type? Believe me, when I bed a man, it’s not because I’m picturing some romantic future. I got over that a long time ago. The pleasure of the moment is my only concern.”

  “Then why are you with him?”

  “I told you that I always pay my debts.”

  “But you said that he addicted Jezereet to the black lotus out of jealousy. How could you forgive him for that?”

  It was like being slapped by Jezereet’s ghost. “I am not responsible for her foolishness.”

  But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. Could it be that Petrof was her addiction? And that she was coming out of it as if freed from vapor dream? The lure of his body, his dangerous streak, his skill in bed, all of it seemed distant now. It shamed her to admit how she’d let him use her. She was supposed to be smarter than that.

  “Did you ever love him?”

  How Kyam’s questions pricked her conscious and stung her pride! If she were willing to rip away the veil of self-protection, she’d have to admit the most squalid, ugliest truth there ever was – that for once, a lover chose her over Jezereet, and for that, she’d forgiven the unforgiveable. “It’s purely business. The Devil’s business.”

  “So it had nothing to do with pleasure.”

  That wasn’t true either, although in light of her discoveries the past few days, she’d never touch Petrof again. Given a choice between humiliating herself by admitting she’d been duped or pretending she’d endured sex she hadn’t enjoyed, she chose not to say anything. It was a bitter enough potion to swallow without a public confession.

  Kyam lifted his hands to the sky. “You’re driving me insane.”

  “You should be used to that.” She looked out to sea again. What she needed was a purifying bath to scrub away her past. Maybe Kyam Zul was like the priestesses of the Qui, able to conjure accusing ghosts from the dark places she thought she’d banished them.

  She took a deep breath. “Did Hadre say how long before we reach Cay Rhi?”

  “Hours.”

  Rationally, she knew that there was some element of revenge against Petrof in the little scenario forming in her mind, but she didn’t care. After what she’d said, Kyam would be a fool to think she meant more than a pleasant way to spend a few hours. The desire from the night before lingered in her blood. Maybe she could exorcise Petrof’s grip on her soul with pleasure at Kyam’s hands. And if it didn’t work, she would hardly count it as time wasted.

  “Hmm. I wonder how we should amuse ourselves,” she said.

  His eyebrow rose.

  “Do you play tiles?” she asked. To her amusement, his nose wrinkled.

  “Only if I have to.”

  “Bores me too. But I’ve never was good at waiting patiently.”

  The light came back to Kyam’s eyes.

  “And it seems we have some unfinished business between us.”

  QuiTai sauntered away from the bow. Half way across the deck, she paused only long enough to look over her shoulder at him. Then she headed down the carpeted stairs to the passenger cabins. Blue light jellylanterns lit the short hallway. Only two cabin doors stood on either side. Evidently, the Golden Barracuda was primarily for trade, not passengers.

  Kyam took his time following her. “Just like that?”

  “We’ve been flirting for over a year. You made it clear you want more, and I’ve decided I do too. People like us don’t need to make it complicated. But I can amuse myself perfectly well without you, so run along if you’re insulted.”

  QuiTai barely had time to reach for the knob of a cabin door before he was next to her, cradling her face between his hands and stooping to kiss her. He fumbled for the door latch: when it opened, he dragged her into the room. For a passenger cabin, it was of a respectable size, meaning little bigger than a jail cell and as sparsely furnished. A wardrobe and small desk were built into one wall, a bed into the other.

  Kyam pulled her away from the door and slammed it shut. The narrow passage between the bed and the walls wasn’t wide enough for two people to stand face to face unless they were exceptionally well acquainted and rather fond of each other. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of her. There was no escape, not that she wanted to get away. His eyes already had that bedroom look, focused on pleasure and little else. As he leaned down, he grasped her head and pulled her mouth to his. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it on the floor without breaking their kiss. He kicked off his trousers and slid his hand down to the small of her bared back.

  QuiTai stepped back from his embrace. His shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath. He took a menacing step toward her. Waves of anticipation moved through her body. Her lips curved as she shoved him back onto the bed. The slight confusion that furrowed his brow eased as she straddled his hips.

  “Wait!”

  If he was going to be like Petrof, she would leave.

  He pointed to the table beside his bed. “Top drawer.”

  She leaned over to pull open the drawer. As she drew out the sheaths, she nodded her approval. “I like a man who plans ahead.” Then she leaned down and bit his bottom lip.

  ~ ~ ~

  Kyam’s head dropped to the pillow as he released a long groan. Grinning, he stretched his arm over his head. It was almost adorable how smug he looked, as if he’d conquered her.

  “I’ve wanted to that with you longer than I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

  “How delightfully debauched of you. I approve.” QuiTai climbed off his lap and stretched beside him. As her fingernails rasped lightly over his ribs, he laughed and grabbed her hand. Between kisses pressed to each of her fingers, his dark eyes gazed at hers. “I never should have let you find that ticklish spot.”

  There was a knock on the cabin door. Kyam got up and pulled on his trousers. He rubbed his chest as he looked down at her with possessive satisfaction.

  There was another knock. “Just a moment,” he called. He limped the few steps to the door and turned back to look at her. “You play rough, don’t you, my dear?”

  “I warned you.” QuiTai pulled the sheets up to her chest in case the person at the door could see around him into the cabin.

  He smirked. “Would you like some food? I’ll ask them to send up a plate from the galley.”

  She leaned over the mattress to the small table near the bed and opened Kyam’s silver kur case. “And something to drink. Where’s your lighter?”

  Kyam opened the door. Hadre glanced at QuiTai as she lit a kur and exhaled a plume of smoke with leisurely contentment. His cheeks went pink. “Kyam, I received orders on the farwriter, and so did you. You must come to my cabin and read them,” he said.

  Kyam picked his shirt up from the floor. He sniffed it before he pulled it on. “Of course.” He sucked a deep breath between his teeth as he walked stiffly out of the cabin.

  Hadre looked toward QuiTai but couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “I’m so terribly sorry about this, Lady QuiTai. Orders.” He winced as he pulled the door closed.

  She heard the turn of a key. Kyam’s voice eventually faded, so she guessed he must have followed Hadre to his cabin. She fluffed the pillows behind her and inhaled the stimulating kur smoke.

  This was an interesting turn of events.

  Who would Captain Hadre take orders from? Only the Zul family or the government. She could guess which one told him to take her prisoner. So why would the Thampurian government care enough about her to lock her in a cabin on a junk when she had no means of escape? She was no sea dragon. It wasn’t as if she could dive from the deck, hit the water, shift, and swim away. Although that’s almost what she’d done at the fortress.

  She climbed out of bed and opened the window screen. They’d
already sailed past DiaHoun Rock, a high, domed monolith almost big enough to be an island in its own right, if it hadn’t been only thirty yards off Ponong’s western shore. If she’d been anxious to escape, she would have wriggled through the window and dropped into the sea. She wasn’t desperate, yet. Still, she looked down at the water to gauge the drop.

  Long, sinuous shapes undulated alongside the junk. The sun gleamed off their scales.

  Sea dragons.

  Kyam once said that she could add one and one and come up with five. She added secret orders and being locked in the cabin with a platoon of sea dragons, and slowly sank back onto the bed. She didn’t need the Oracle for this vision. Every step unfolded before her with horrible clarity. The things she’d sensed on the edge of her perception came roaring out of the darkness like a waterspout spun off a typhoon.

  The Golden Barracuda had been ready to sail when they got to the harbor. Kyam had planned to board and then demand to know exactly where she thought the Ravidians were. He’d get his proof and then triumphantly report back to his superiors. Only something had gone wrong, and someone found out that he was on the trail of the Ravidians. They hadn’t been exactly secretive about their investigation, after all. He’d told too many people, despite her warning.

  Back at the fortress, Voorus tried to get her close to the cell that held the werewolves. The captain’s hand had been on the cell’s biolock. The military was after her. Not Kyam. Her. Voorus wanted to use her against the Devil, but they wouldn’t have sent so many sea dragons to follow the Golden Barracuda just to bring her back to the fortress. There was a bigger reason behind that decision, and it went higher up than Voorus, she was sure. The only question in her mind was if it was the colonial government or the Thampurian government itself that wanted her dead.