The Trouble with Demons

Page 63

“The Conclave has secure accommodations for guests such as Prince Chigaru,” Mychael assured me.
“A containment room on the other side of the island?” I asked hopefully.
“A very secure and well-guarded inn. The prince and his retinue have stayed there before, and I recall that he was pleased with his accommodations—and I was more than satisfied with the security.”
I blinked. “He’s been here?”
“More than once. Since Mid is politically neutral, exiled heads of state know they will be safe here.”
“Last time he was here, the Saghred wasn’t,” I pointed out.
Mychael looked down at me, his smile cheerfully serene.
“Raine?”
“Yes?”
“Leave the prince to me. Leave his retinue to me. Handling visitors with questionable motives is one of the things I do best.”
I gave him an apologetic little grin. “Sorry about that. It’s your job, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“And I’m trying to do it for you.”
“Again.”
“You’re really good at your job.”
Mychael inclined his head graciously. “Thank you. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here to agree with you.”
I knew no one was in the room with us, but I lowered my voice anyway. “Were you also going to ask A’Zahra Nuru about our . . .”
“Situation?” he provided helpfully.
“That’s the one. Does she know about magical connections that you don’t find in books?”
He knew what I was talking about. Our link, our connection. A very deep sense of connection on a very personal level.
“A’Zahra Nuru is considered an expert in magical pairings of all sorts,” Mychael said.
“A pairing.” I said it, wrapping my mind around the words, what they implied, and what they could potentially mean for us.
“And it’s getting stronger,” Mychael said quietly. “I can feel it.”
I could, too.
A pairing. Mychael and me.
A bond. Tam and me—and now Mychael.
A tangled knot. What my life had become.
“The paladin of the Conclave Guardians has gone and gotten himself ‘paired’ with a Benares.” I felt laughter bubbling up and let it. I’d earned it. “You know, to some people on this island, you paired with Raine Benares might actually be a worse offense than getting cozy with the Saghred’s bond servant.”
A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Considering what I’d done over the past few days, I wouldn’t be surprised, either. I grinned crookedly. “We did storm the gates of Hell, didn’t we?”
“We most certainly did.”
“I squashed demons, vaporized demons, and was crazy enough to get into a catfight with the queen of demons.”
Mychael chuckled. “Crazy. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
I ignored him and continued. “You know, when you look at it that way, one little fist-sized rock doesn’t stand a chance against me,” I said brightly. “While Carnades is still ‘resting,’ Markus is still plotting, and Prince Chigaru hasn’t gotten here yet, what say we do something about that rock? Given any more thought to blasting it out of one of Phaelan’s cannons?”
“While that idea is appealing on many levels—”
“You don’t want to risk the rock getting pissed off and blowing up the entire island.”
“Precisely.”
“Okay, fine. No turning the Saghred into a cannonball. I’m open to any and all ideas. But while we have a little breathing room, let’s confront the problem head-on. I’m past ready to roll up my sleeves and get to work.”
Mychael shook his head, smiling. “And the fact that the finest magical minds couldn’t destroy it means nothing to you.”
“Oh, it means something. It means they weren’t as motivated as I am.” I met his smile and raised him a grin. “Or as you would say, as stubborn. Until two days ago, no one thought the Saghred could be opened, either.” I jerked a thumb toward the hall outside the office. “But no one has had my dad as a consultant before. He’s been with the Saghred for centuries; and for the past year he’s been inside of it—so he knows it literally inside and out. He’s free now. With what he knows, and what we can find out, if there’s a way, we’ll find it. Tam thinks that the Saghred caused the umi’atsu bond between us. I agree with him. And a three-way umi’atsu bond is a first, right?”
“I’ve never heard of one before.”
“Then maybe we’re linked in a different way since the glue that’s holding us together is the Saghred and not each other. Get rid of the glue, get rid of the bond. Get rid of our problem.” I looked at him expectantly. “What do you say?”
“I say you’re right.”
I think my mouth dropped open a little. “You do? I mean . . . I am?”
“I can’t agree with you?”
“It’s just not something I expected.”
Mychael smiled slowly, his eyes lit with a dangerous sparkle. “I can do the unexpected, Raine. It’s not just my job that I’m good at.”
Chapter 32
It was bright and sunny on the Fortune. It was edging toward late afternoon, so the sun had finished baking the wooden decks for the day, and a cooling breeze was coming off the harbor. I was sitting on a bench, working on my third ale, or was it my fourth? I hadn’t bothered to keep count. I’d hauled the small keg up on deck with me to save myself the walk down to the galley, though now it’d probably be more like a stagger.
I’d left Mychael’s office feeling confident enough, but the closer I got to the Fortune, the more my enthusiasm started to wane under the weight of reality. Carnades wouldn’t stay at home forever, Markus would make his move soon, Sarad Nukpana’s soul was out body shopping, Rudra Muralin was in the goblin embassy plotting my death, and the Reapers could find me anytime, anywhere.
Then there was Mychael and Tam—and me with Mychael and Tam. So far I hadn’t had any time to really consider the consequences of our predicament, and I’d been avoiding to the point of denial the fact that a large segment of goblin society considered me married to both of them. Part of me rather liked the idea and felt deliciously naughty about the whole arrangement. The other part of me went with a time-honored Benares solution—if I drank enough, my problems would go away, probably along with my consciousness, but I’d deal with that when I found myself facedown on the deck.
And all of my problems and predicaments were courtesy of a fist-sized, soul-sucking rock.
Where I was sitting, anyone who wanted to spy on me—or take their best shot—could do so to their heart’s content. I didn’t care about that, either, and cared less after each tankard. Vegard and Arlyn had strongly suggested that the safe place for me to do my drinking would be belowdecks. I strongly refused, and in emphatic and colorful terms told them that I was staying precisely where I was and that I wanted to be left alone. They were still on deck with me, but guarding me from a respectful distance. If I fell over—either from ale or a crossbow bolt—I was sure they’d pick me up. I took another long drink. I knew I was behaving like an ass, and I’d have to apologize to them later, but for now I wanted sun on my face and a keg by my side.
I’d never been good with feelings. Don’t get me wrong; I was on a first-name basis with fear and anger, but feelings of the romantic kind . . . Well, let’s just say our paths hadn’t crossed that often. I’ve never been what you’d call datable. When a man found out my last name was Benares, all I had to do was watch his face and know how that relationship was going to go—or not go. It was all in the eyes; they either bugged out in sheer terror, or narrowed in anticipatory greed. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a middle ground.
Mychael and Tam were two notable exceptions.
So far all my romantic encounters with Mychael had been for diverting enemy attention, for healing, or for relief that I wasn’t dead—at least those were his excuses. But after what he’d said, not said, and implied in his office a few hours ago, I had the feeling that Mychael’s excuses were turning into intentions. And regardless of what Vegard said, or Mychael might think, or I might want, the top lawman in the seven kingdoms could hardly get involved with a member of the top criminal family. Talk about a career-destroying move. Though with the Saghred involved, career-destroying was also life-threatening. But that hadn’t stopped me from pondering some intentions of my own. What had happened when he’d touched me wasn’t a feeling or a sensation; it was an experience of the once-in-a-lifetime kind. And I’d already been treated to it twice in two days.
Then there was Tam. I knew what Tam wanted from me—the same thing he’d wanted since the night we’d met. And during the time that I’d known him, those black, bedroom eyes of his made sure I didn’t forget it. I was pretty sure his feelings for me went beyond what would no doubt be an amazing time in bed—or on the floor, in the tub, or against the wall—I just didn’t know how far those feelings went, and Tam hadn’t seen fit to tell me. And in any romantic encounters with Tam, my good sense had left the room. Tam could do that to a woman, and he certainly did that to me. Then there was Tam’s past. Normally a man’s past wouldn’t bother me, as long as it stayed in the past where it belonged. But Tam’s notoriety, indiscretions, sins, and assorted crimes weren’t just chasing him, they were catching up.
Two gorgeous, sexy, dangerous, and downright delicious men. And now the Saghred was playing matchmaker for me with both of them, making it a bad situation with even worse timing, and I didn’t even want to think about the ending. But what if we got rid of the rock, and the bonds, and no one was trying to arrest and/or kill us anymore? What if it was just Tam and me, or Mychael and me? What would I do then? And who would I want to be doing it with?