I eye the mass of tentacles that make up the lower half of his body. It would be very, very easy for him to drag me into the canal and drown me. Pretty sure death by drowning counts as harm, but I still don’t really know how the whole demon contract gets enforced, and punishing my murderer is great and all, but I’ll be too dead to care.
“Sure,” I say slowly. “I’ll, uh, go do that now.” I back toward the stairs.
Thankfully, the castle hasn’t made them vanish in the few minutes since I reached the bottom. Even better, the ascent—which I walk and definitely don’t run for my life on—only takes three curves of the staircase before it spits me out into a familiar-looking hallway. “Thanks a lot, Castle.”
A door halfway down the hall opens, and I peek inside to find my room. “Oh, thank god. Or thank Castle.” I duck inside and shut the door behind me.
Only then do I realize I’m shaking. I knew I was in a different realm, of course. “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore” and all that. Somehow Ramanu and Azazel didn’t ping my monster meter nearly as hard as the kraken king did.
I walk to my bed and flop onto it. “A single human to meet a king.” I can’t really mimic his deep, icy tones, so I exaggerate the haughtiness. “Someone should meet you with a fucking harpoon. Maybe that would be enough to get the stick out of your ass.” Oh well. It doesn’t matter if that fishy king got under my skin in record time.
I’ll never see him again.
3
THANE
I’m still thinking about the human woman an hour later when I’m led by that blasted demon Ramanu into a large room containing two of the three other territory leaders. Even knowing to expect it, I can’t help tensing as I move past them to the inset pool of salt water Azazel has provided. I’m sure the demon knows it’s not actually necessary—I hardly dry out after being out of water for only a few hours—but if the other territory leaders underestimate my abilities, I would rather they continue to do so.
Azazel’s thoughtfulness makes me suspicious. He’s better than his predecessor and shows no inclination to conquer the entire realm, but I’d be a fool to think that isn’t a possibility. He’s offering a sweet bribe, but I’ve been around long enough to look for the poison hidden within.
More, I simply don’t want to be here.
I have no interest in siring children or taking a partner, even in name. Not after . . .
I shudder and try to cover the involuntary movement. Best not to think of my past, not here while surrounded by predators. To distract myself, I survey the other territory leaders. There’s Rusalka, with her indolent smile that doesn’t quite hide the potential for violence in every line of her tall body. Bram, the most human-looking of us . . . as long as one doesn’t pay attention to the giant wings tucked tight against his body. Or his tail. Or his horns. His long white hair is looking particularly lustrous today. Bastard.
The doors open and Sol stalks through. It takes all my considerable control to remain still as the big dragon passes me. Our territories haven’t had a conflict in some time, but old grudges run deep.
It’s not his fault Brant’s dead. It wasn’t his hand that killed my beloved. It wasn’t even during one of those conflicts.
But it was one of his people who murdered my husband.
“Shall we begin?” Azazel, as always, has impeccable timing. There’s a reason the bargainers haven’t needed to involve themselves in skirmishes with the other territories recently, and he’s it. He’s too smooth for my liking, but I can’t deny that the entire realm has stabilized since he took over for his people.
Tonight is an extension of that striving for peace. It’s entirely possible this whole thing a trap, but I don’t think so. The other leaders may waste time chasing their respective tails and trying to prove who’s the most dangerous. I don’t. I prefer to watch from the depths, weighing their words and actions and considering paths forward. My people are the least in number, and while we can retreat to the deep where none of the others can reach us, if necessary, it’s my job to ensure we don’t have to make that choice.
Hence my presence here tonight.
I have no need for a human or desire for an heir. I have my heir in the form of my sibling, Embry. As for mating with humans to increase our territory’s magic . . . Should Embry decide that’s necessary, that’s for zir to plan and enact. Humans are incredibly potent conductors for magic; it’s why all the races of this realm and others rushed to procreate with them all those generations ago. A half-human leader would boost our territory’s power exponentially. It just won’t be my child who plays that role.
The lights go low over the main room, and the ones pointing at the short dais brighten, signaling that we’re about to begin. About time. The others shift as the humans walk through a door and up onto the dais. I don’t have much experience with humans as a whole, but best I can tell, they all seem to be fine specimens of their people.
“Make your choices,” Azazel says softly.
I barely listen as the others claim their prizes. I recognize one of these sacrifices to Azazel’s ambition; the soft brunette who mouthed off when I arrived. I narrow my eyes. What game is the demon playing? Are these more than the peace offering he claims? What other reason would he have to send one as a welcome, even if it was one I found wanting?
It doesn’t make sense. I could have snapped her neck. Drowned her. Hurt her in a thousand different ways. While claiming a human from this auction will require a demon bargain, I’m under no such geas now.
No, he didn’t send her. He wouldn’t risk such a valuable piece of his plan. Which begs the question . . . Why was she there?
Azazel turns and looks in my direction. It’s only then that I realize Bram and Rusalka have chosen their humans; there’s only Sol and I left. I exchange a look with him, but he doesn’t immediately speak. Ceding the final choice to me. It would be so much easier to hate the dragon if he wasn’t so damned conscientious.
My human is still left.
What am I thinking? She’s not mine. She never will be. The smart thing to do would be to choose the other, to avoid strange thoughts like that. She is dressed in white and has fetching bright red hair. She’s also trembling, just a little. Not enough that it’s visible, but I am uniquely tuned to water, and what are humans if not water based? She’s terrified.
My human isn’t scared. She’s clothed—if one can call wearing that scrap of dress “clothed”—in a deep blue that makes me think of home. It hugs her curves, showing off a body that had been mostly hidden when I saw her earlier. “Blue,” I find myself saying.
Sol’s shoulders drop the tiniest bit—in relief?—and he claims the one in white. Then it’s over. Things happen quickly after that. The women are brought off the dais to their respective territory leaders, and the pairs are in turn escorted to a series of doors that have appeared around the perimeter of the room.
I hold ours open for my human without thinking. She’s watching me with a strange emotion, but it doesn’t feel like fear. That’s a relief. I have little time for fear; comfort is not one of my skill sets.