A Strange Hymn
Page 55
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I ask instead, taking the lead and heading deeper into the room. Des follows behind me.
I sit down in the green velvet armchair adjacent to her, and Des takes the matching seat across from it.
“Tea?” Mara offers, gesturing to the delicate tea set in front of her on the coffee table.
I shake my head.
“Don’t mind if I help myself,” she says.
The vines that have taken over the room now slither up the coffee table, wrapping around the tea kettle and a delicate cup. They lift the porcelain containers into the air, and then ever so gently, the vines tilt the kettle, and tea begins pouring into the cup.
“Have you enjoyed your stay so far?” Mara asks, settling herself into the seat.
I can’t quite rip my eyes away from the sight of all those plants pouring a cup of tea.
Magic will never get old.
“Mhm,” I say, watching as more vines join the production, one to add some cream to the cup, another to add a cube of sugar.
“I hear that during the first night of festivities, you and the king slipped away to the forest for a bit.”
Now I tear my gaze away from the tea.
I flush as I remember being pressed to that tree, Des’s chest pinned against mine as he pistoned in and out of me.
Of course the queen knows we made love under the canopy of her forest.
“Oh, there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” she says, noticing my reddening cheeks. “We celebrate the cycle of seasons by coming together. It’s an honor to have the King of the Night and his mate sanctify the celebration by joining in. I myself disappeared into the forest several times that evening alone.”
Really, I could’ve lived without knowing that.
My eyes slide to Des.
He lounges back in his chair, one ankle thrown over his knee, his thumb rubbing his lower lip while he watches me. Judging from the heat in his eyes, he’s vividly remembering that evening as well. And unlike me, he doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by it.
One of the vines extends the cup of tea to Mara. She takes it, sipping daintily from it.
“So,” she says, “festivities aside, I’ve also heard that you are actively looking for the Thief of Souls.” Mara watches me over the rim of her teacup.
I nod. I mean, technically, Des and I are investigating this together, but when I look at him again, I get the impression that he wants me to take full credit for this.
“So you’re aware that guards from all four kingdoms have gone missing during the Solstice festivities. All men.”
Again, I nod.
“I was hoping to avoid this situation.” She takes a sip of her tea and shakes her head. “I wanted to discuss with you the testimony of the last people to see these soldiers alive. I think you’ll find it most interesting.”
Deliberately, she leans over and picks up a silver stirring spoon from the tea tray, then dips it into her cup. “You see, many of them say they last saw their comrades with a single individual. The same individual.”
I grip the edges of the armrest, already dreading, already knowing, what she’s going to say.
“Who?” I ask anyway.
“Your mate, Desmond Flynn.”
Chapter 36
Des continues to languidly sit in the chair across from me. One eyebrow arches up. “You thought to tell my mate about this alone?”
Nothing about this situation makes any sense. Not the testimony, which I can barely wrap my mind around, and not Des’s unruffled reaction to it.
Mara ignores him. “Can you account for your mate’s whereabouts over the last several evenings?”
Wait, seriously? She wants me to give an alibi for Des?
My eyes are moving between Mara and Des—Mara, who looks like a shark who’s scented blood, and Des, who’s not giving away anything.
“Yes,” I say, my voice unfaltering. “He’s been with me. You’re looking at the wrong man. Janus was the one that took—”
“Desmond was with you the entire night?” Mara probes, talking over me.
My siren stirs at my agitation, wanting out. If I were back on earth, I’d repress her, but here in the Otherworld, where my magic is mostly useless, I don’t have to worry about my power getting out of hand. So I let her out.
My skin begins to shimmer. “Do you really think I would let the King of the Night out of my bed once he was in it?” I say, glamour riding my voice.
I am not one to be interrogated.
Across from me Mara smiles a little, her eyes shrewd.
Glass shatters, interrupting the moment.
A pretty young servant stares at me, her eyes wide, a shattered vase at her feet. She steps closer, glass crunching beneath the soles of her shoes.
Mara rolls her eyes. “Insolent thing,” she says under her breath, “clean that up now,” she orders.
But the servant doesn’t clean up the vase. She’s not listening to the Flora Queen at all. Her eyes are trained on me, completely under my spell.
My dark, seductive power laps beneath my skin.
Finally, someone to bend to my will.
Mara sets down her cup of tea, the vines around her beginning to slither and snap in agitation.
“Do you want a lashing, woman?” she says, her voice turning shrill.
I smile as the servant comes closer, enjoying the power, the control.
“Congratulations, my queen,” Des says. “You’re one of the first fairies to see what my mate can do to humans,” Des says.
Mara glances away from the servant to cast a baffled look at the Bargainer. She then reappraises me, something like reluctant approval in her eyes. Meanwhile, her servant is still heading towards me, her glassy gaze fixed on my face.
I turn to face the human woman. “Clean up the vase you broke, and then return to your normal duties,” I say.
Immediately, the servant turns around, returning to the broken glass and beginning to pick the largest pieces of it up.
“Amazing,” Mara breathes.
I frown as I watch the servant girl, catching a glimpse of the reddened skin near her wrist where she was branded.
Mara did that to her. Marked her.
“How much easier it would be to control them if we had someone like her,” Mara muses. “Are there more of her kind?” she asks Des.
My fingers curve into the arms of my chair.
Human. Slave. Victim. That’s what I once was, what this servant is. And the fairy queen at my side is her captor, her tormentor. She’s the one who deserves my wrath.
I turn to Mara, feeling wild. I stand, the thrill of power coursing through me. Here is an evil to vanquish, a queen to conquer, a soul to break and a body to bleed.
In my periphery I can just make out Des tensing. My unshakeable king is actually on edge for once. How delightful.
My body rolls as I move over to Mara. Slowly, I lower myself onto her lap.
“Do you mind?” I ask as I do so. I don’t care what her answer is.
Her mouth curves into a smile. “You have a mate, enchantress,” she says.
“He’s not protesting.” Yet.
She raises her eyebrows. “Then by all means.”
I can see desire stoking in her eyes. Fairies, I’m coming to find, are a bit more sexually fluid than humans.
I place my hands on either side of her head, boxing her in. I lean in close. “Why do you keep them?” My gaze travels to her neck. Her delicate neck. Such a fragile part of her body. I cannot control this woman, but I can seduce her. I can hurt her.
I sit down in the green velvet armchair adjacent to her, and Des takes the matching seat across from it.
“Tea?” Mara offers, gesturing to the delicate tea set in front of her on the coffee table.
I shake my head.
“Don’t mind if I help myself,” she says.
The vines that have taken over the room now slither up the coffee table, wrapping around the tea kettle and a delicate cup. They lift the porcelain containers into the air, and then ever so gently, the vines tilt the kettle, and tea begins pouring into the cup.
“Have you enjoyed your stay so far?” Mara asks, settling herself into the seat.
I can’t quite rip my eyes away from the sight of all those plants pouring a cup of tea.
Magic will never get old.
“Mhm,” I say, watching as more vines join the production, one to add some cream to the cup, another to add a cube of sugar.
“I hear that during the first night of festivities, you and the king slipped away to the forest for a bit.”
Now I tear my gaze away from the tea.
I flush as I remember being pressed to that tree, Des’s chest pinned against mine as he pistoned in and out of me.
Of course the queen knows we made love under the canopy of her forest.
“Oh, there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” she says, noticing my reddening cheeks. “We celebrate the cycle of seasons by coming together. It’s an honor to have the King of the Night and his mate sanctify the celebration by joining in. I myself disappeared into the forest several times that evening alone.”
Really, I could’ve lived without knowing that.
My eyes slide to Des.
He lounges back in his chair, one ankle thrown over his knee, his thumb rubbing his lower lip while he watches me. Judging from the heat in his eyes, he’s vividly remembering that evening as well. And unlike me, he doesn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by it.
One of the vines extends the cup of tea to Mara. She takes it, sipping daintily from it.
“So,” she says, “festivities aside, I’ve also heard that you are actively looking for the Thief of Souls.” Mara watches me over the rim of her teacup.
I nod. I mean, technically, Des and I are investigating this together, but when I look at him again, I get the impression that he wants me to take full credit for this.
“So you’re aware that guards from all four kingdoms have gone missing during the Solstice festivities. All men.”
Again, I nod.
“I was hoping to avoid this situation.” She takes a sip of her tea and shakes her head. “I wanted to discuss with you the testimony of the last people to see these soldiers alive. I think you’ll find it most interesting.”
Deliberately, she leans over and picks up a silver stirring spoon from the tea tray, then dips it into her cup. “You see, many of them say they last saw their comrades with a single individual. The same individual.”
I grip the edges of the armrest, already dreading, already knowing, what she’s going to say.
“Who?” I ask anyway.
“Your mate, Desmond Flynn.”
Chapter 36
Des continues to languidly sit in the chair across from me. One eyebrow arches up. “You thought to tell my mate about this alone?”
Nothing about this situation makes any sense. Not the testimony, which I can barely wrap my mind around, and not Des’s unruffled reaction to it.
Mara ignores him. “Can you account for your mate’s whereabouts over the last several evenings?”
Wait, seriously? She wants me to give an alibi for Des?
My eyes are moving between Mara and Des—Mara, who looks like a shark who’s scented blood, and Des, who’s not giving away anything.
“Yes,” I say, my voice unfaltering. “He’s been with me. You’re looking at the wrong man. Janus was the one that took—”
“Desmond was with you the entire night?” Mara probes, talking over me.
My siren stirs at my agitation, wanting out. If I were back on earth, I’d repress her, but here in the Otherworld, where my magic is mostly useless, I don’t have to worry about my power getting out of hand. So I let her out.
My skin begins to shimmer. “Do you really think I would let the King of the Night out of my bed once he was in it?” I say, glamour riding my voice.
I am not one to be interrogated.
Across from me Mara smiles a little, her eyes shrewd.
Glass shatters, interrupting the moment.
A pretty young servant stares at me, her eyes wide, a shattered vase at her feet. She steps closer, glass crunching beneath the soles of her shoes.
Mara rolls her eyes. “Insolent thing,” she says under her breath, “clean that up now,” she orders.
But the servant doesn’t clean up the vase. She’s not listening to the Flora Queen at all. Her eyes are trained on me, completely under my spell.
My dark, seductive power laps beneath my skin.
Finally, someone to bend to my will.
Mara sets down her cup of tea, the vines around her beginning to slither and snap in agitation.
“Do you want a lashing, woman?” she says, her voice turning shrill.
I smile as the servant comes closer, enjoying the power, the control.
“Congratulations, my queen,” Des says. “You’re one of the first fairies to see what my mate can do to humans,” Des says.
Mara glances away from the servant to cast a baffled look at the Bargainer. She then reappraises me, something like reluctant approval in her eyes. Meanwhile, her servant is still heading towards me, her glassy gaze fixed on my face.
I turn to face the human woman. “Clean up the vase you broke, and then return to your normal duties,” I say.
Immediately, the servant turns around, returning to the broken glass and beginning to pick the largest pieces of it up.
“Amazing,” Mara breathes.
I frown as I watch the servant girl, catching a glimpse of the reddened skin near her wrist where she was branded.
Mara did that to her. Marked her.
“How much easier it would be to control them if we had someone like her,” Mara muses. “Are there more of her kind?” she asks Des.
My fingers curve into the arms of my chair.
Human. Slave. Victim. That’s what I once was, what this servant is. And the fairy queen at my side is her captor, her tormentor. She’s the one who deserves my wrath.
I turn to Mara, feeling wild. I stand, the thrill of power coursing through me. Here is an evil to vanquish, a queen to conquer, a soul to break and a body to bleed.
In my periphery I can just make out Des tensing. My unshakeable king is actually on edge for once. How delightful.
My body rolls as I move over to Mara. Slowly, I lower myself onto her lap.
“Do you mind?” I ask as I do so. I don’t care what her answer is.
Her mouth curves into a smile. “You have a mate, enchantress,” she says.
“He’s not protesting.” Yet.
She raises her eyebrows. “Then by all means.”
I can see desire stoking in her eyes. Fairies, I’m coming to find, are a bit more sexually fluid than humans.
I place my hands on either side of her head, boxing her in. I lean in close. “Why do you keep them?” My gaze travels to her neck. Her delicate neck. Such a fragile part of her body. I cannot control this woman, but I can seduce her. I can hurt her.
