Rhapsodic (The Bargainer Book 1)

  I jolt when I feel his touch along my cheekbone, which must be glowing by this point. “Not even one such as you.” He runs a thumb along my lower lip. “The people here call you an enchantress. But tell me, human, could you enchant me?”

  Instead of answering, I swat away his hand with my shackled ones. The action earns me a chuckle, and then his hands are back on my face, stroking my skin.

  “Stop touching me,” I growl.

  “Oh, my lady, have you not heard?” I feel his hot breath against my ear. “That’s what I’m best at,” he whispers.

  The siren is restless inside me.

  He wants an enchantress, let’s give him an enchantress, she whispers. Let him think we are willing right up to the last second. Then we’ll stand over his body and laugh as he takes his own life. Foolish to cross us.

  My siren either doesn’t realize or care that this man cannot be glamoured. Not if he’s fae.

  He pulls the blindfold off my face, and I blink against the light. The first thing I notice are the man’s antlers. Sharp, towering antlers that add another two feet to the already large stature. Silky chestnut hair frames his tan face.

  It’s the man from my dreams.

  The slitted pupils of his golden eyes expand as he takes me in.

  “You are quite beautiful,” he says. “I can see why the Lord of Secrets has taken you for his mate.

  “But you are painfully weak,” he continues. “What a vulnerability. He should know better.”

  “Who are you?” I ask, my voice ethereal.

  “My manners!” He bows. “I’m Karnon, King of Fauna, Master of Animals, Lord of the Wild Heart, and King of Claws and Talons.”

  The King of Fauna? The mad king?

  Fuckity fuck, that’s not good.

  He straightens, splaying his arms out to display the room around him. “Welcome to my kingdom.”

  I glance around at the room—bedroom, I amend. The place is covered in furs. Thick wood and ivory furniture is scattered throughout the room, each piece intricately carved, though none are so impressive as the staggering headboard on his bed. A hunting scene is carved into the wood, embellished with bits of ivory, mother-of-pearl, semi-precious stones, and flecks of gold.

  A bed for a king.

  Out of all the rooms to meet him in, this is the one he chooses. Also not good.

  I tear my eyes away from the massive bed to look at Karnon, who’s studying me with a small smile, his eyes narrowed.

  His eyes dance at the sound of my hypnotic voice. He leans in close, his antlers nearly touching me. “I already have a casket picked out for you. A special coffin for a special lady. We’ll deliver you right to your mate’s feet.”

  He knows Des and I are mates?

  Karnon’s finger hooks over the low neck of my dress. “I wonder if it will break him to see his love like that—still as death and holding another man’s baby. Will he kill it? Keep it? Oh the possibilities …” He runs the backs of his fingers over my chest. I notice that blood’s dried into the creases of his hand.

  I swallow at the sight. So far he’s only been a bit eccentric, but I have no doubt that at any moment he could snap.

  “I’ve never been with a human woman,” he continues. He lowers his voice. “In the Kingdom of Fauna it’s taboo to sleep with a slave. You earthly beasts are so dirty. But you are pleasing enough to look at.” His eyes run over me. “Yes, quite pleasing. I’m eager to see the rest of you.”

  Jesus.

  No one will ever hurt us like before, my siren promises. He will pay.

  The King of Fauna tilts his head. “Perhaps we should begin now?”

  Before I have time to react, he grabs my jaw. Looking me in the eye, he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

  It’s not a kiss. Not in the truest sense. Instead, he forces my mouth open, then exhales.

  A rush of magic is forced down my throat, tasting like rot. I struggle against him even as my knees begin to buckle.

  His arm comes around my waist, holding me up as he continues to breathe into me.

  I try to bring my knee up to his crotch, but my leg only comes up inches before the shackles around my ankles jerk tight.

  Karnon doesn’t even notice.

  My chained arms are trapped between us.

  Completely immobilized.

  As a last ditch effort, I jerk my head away, then head butt the King of Fauna. He staggers back, placing a hand to his forehead.

  Without his grip holding me up, my legs now do buckle.

  Karnon’s lips curl back into what might be a smile. All I see are several sets of fangs. “The slave has a little fight in her.”

  I force myself to stand, swaying on my feet. I’m choking on whatever corrupted magic he force-fed into me. “What did you do to me?” I croak, my voice hoarse.

  He tilts his head, surveying me with those strange eyes of his. “I look forward to seeing more of that pretty skin,” he says. “Guards!” he calls, not glancing away from me.

  Two fae soldiers rush in, one who has feathers for hair, the other who has claws.

  “We’re finished here,” Karnon says.

  Again, I sway on my feet, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Each moment I stand here, I weaken. Something’s very wrong with me. Everything’s moving slower—my limbs, my mind.

  Roughly, the soldiers blindfold me again. Gripping my upper arms, the two drag me back to my cell, dumping me carelessly on the pallet in the corner.

  I’m barely aware of it. Whatever was forced down my throat is slipping through me, turning my veins to ice.

  They don’t bother removing the cloth around my eyes, and I don’t have the energy to do it myself.

  Drifting, drifting …

  My mind darkens until all that surrounds me is endless, hopeless blackness.

  Chapter 26

  Choking. Choking on magic. It’s pounding behind my forehead, tensing up my muscles, squeezing my insides.

  I wake with a scream, the sound echoing down the cell block. Somewhere in the distance a guard growls out a warning.

  I sit up, panting, placing a sweaty hand to the column of my throat.

  Just a dream. The stifling darkness, the corrupted magic, Karnon …

  Only, it isn’t, I realize as I finally catch my breath. I can still feel his viselike grip on me, his lips on my mouth, the insidious darkness that seeped into my veins.

  My face is coated in sweat, and my stomach is roiling—

  I barely make it to the toilet in time to vomit. I spend the next several hours like this—either shivering on my pallet, or purging my stomach of every last ounce of its contents.

  At some point, the guards slide a meal through a hatch at the base of the barred wall. The food sits untouched at the edge of my cell.

  Eventually, the sickness dissipates. Not completely, but enough to function. Stomach growling, I drag myself out of bed, towards the tin bowl. One glance at the gruel and I decide going hungry is better than spending several more hours with my head in a prison toilet.

  I lean my sweaty forehead against the bars and stare out of my cell just as a guard approaches.

  I eye him as he passes, noticing the lion tail that swishes behind him.

  Do all of Fauna’s fairies share aspects with beasts?

  The guard slows, flashing me a cold look. “Don’t stare at me, slave.”

  I’m so fucking sick of this world already.

  “Nice tail, asshole,” I mutter.

  That stops him in his tracks, and I’m just enough of an idiot to smirk at the fact that I got under his skin.

  He slams his gloved palms against the bars. “Consider yourself lucky that the king wants to put his dick anywhere near you,” he growls.

 
My smile grows, turning mean. Then I chuck my bowl at the bars, the gruel splashing against his face. “Fuck you, pig.”

  I never would’ve guessed beforehand, but I don’t make a very good prisoner.

  For one second, the guard does nothing, his face shocked. And then he lets out a lion’s roar, rushing at the bars.

  I spin to my feet, ignoring a wave of dizziness that rushes through me, just as he makes a grab for me. His hand closes on nothing but air.

  “You filthy, vile slave!” he bellows. “I could kill you right now! Right where you stand!”

  Light ripples across my skin as my siren surfaces.

  “Could you kill me?” I say, my musical voice taunting. “Why don’t you come in and find out?”

  He roars again. Because obviously he can’t lay a finger on me. Not the one bargaining chip Karnon believes he has over Des.

  “Or are you scared?” I lean against one of the stone walls. “The lion who’s scared of a little woman.”

  He snarls, banging against the bars until another soldier—one with horse ears—pulls him away, flashing me a glare that’s supposed to scare me. But nothing is more frightening than the fate that already awaits me.

  I watch them walk away, glad for once that my siren fears nothing and no one. Animals can scent that kind of thing, and that’s what these guards are—part animal. Not so different from Eli when it comes down to it.

  I slide down the wall, leaning my head back against it. I’m exhausted, and it’s only been what? A day?

  This place breaks us fast.

  “Psst, human,” a female voice calls from the cell next to mine once the guards’ voices have disappeared, “are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” I call back weakly. My skin’s stopped shining, and all of the strength that comes with the siren has fled, leaving me exhausted.

  “That was brave, what you did there. Rash—stupid even—but also brave.”

  I manage a laugh. I don’t know much about fae, but rolling an insult into a compliment seems like something they would do.

  I lean my head back against the wall. “What’s your name?” I ask her.

  “Aetherial,” she says. “Yours?”

  “Callypso.”

  “You’re new here, huh?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I sigh out, my eyes moving to those tally marks.

  “How many times have you met the Fauna King?” she asks after a beat of silence.

  Apparently I wasn’t the only one that got special visits with him. I’d figured as much.

  “Just once.”

  “Oh, fun’s only beginning for you,” she says.

  That makes me crack a smile. My fellow inmates are fae warriors. These women are the toughest of the tough. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that. I’d only associated them with the sleeping women trapped inside those glass coffins. I hadn’t thought that they might’ve fought their fate every bit as much as I was planning to. But right now, hearing Aetherial make light of our terrible situation, I remember.

  “How many times have you met him?” I ask.

  “Four,” she says. “I’ve lost movement in my arms and legs. He takes out those first. Doesn’t want his women to be difficult.”

  “That’s what that kiss was?” I say, surprised. That, after all, was the only time Karnon forced his magic on me. “A way to immobilize us?” I wiggle my fingers and toes as I speak. I haven’t lost any use of my limbs.

  “Amongst other things,” she says darkly.

  A shiver races down my spine. “What does that mean?” I ask.

  She pauses. “Tell me you don’t feel it—that sickness making itself at home in your bones.”

  I did when I woke, but after puking my guts up, the sensation went away. Now I just feel weak. Incredibly weak.

  “And then of course, there’s the whole matter of us getting pregnant,” she adds. “You know about that?”

  “I do. Sorry to ruin the surprise,” I say. “I’m still holding out hope that immaculate conception is involved in that whole process,” I add, not really joking.

  “Immaculate conception?” Aetherial repeats, amused. “Now that would be something. All of us prisoners just magically getting knocked up.” She chuckles to herself. “I like you, human,” she says.

  “I’m a siren.” I’m not sure why I make the clarification. Perhaps so that I don’t seem quite so helpless amongst all these strong warriors.

  “A siren?” She whistles. “And here I was hoping Karnon wouldn’t touch you—you being human and all that. No offense,” she adds. “I’ve dallied with plenty of human women in my time, but it’s a thing for some fae.”

  I remember Karnon’s earlier words. “So I’ve heard.”

  We lapse into silence for a bit, both of us likely musing on our fate.

  “What kingdom are you from?” I finally ask.

  “Day.” She exhales. “Royal guard turned prisoner. That’s irony for you.”

  It all stings. Hearing her story, knowing her fate, knowing mine.

  “So tell me,” she continues, “how does a human come to be trapped in this hellhole with the rest of us?”

  “I have unusually bad luck,” I quip, even as I grimace down at my hands.

  I hear her gruff laughter. “Apparently that kind of thing is contagious around here.”

  Another small smile stretches across my face. Who would’ve thought I’d become fast friends with a fae warrior while imprisoned?

  Absently, I watch the guards patrol the rows of cells across from me. Most have some obvious animalistic feature, like whiskers, or tails, or hooves. But then there are some who walk these halls that don’t have these obvious characteristics.

  Could they be fae from another kingdom? Humans?

  My heart pounds at that last possibility.

  “Hey, Aetherial, can you do me a favor?” I ask, my eyes studying a uniformed cook delivering tray after tray of prisoner meals. He looks fully human from here, but I’m so far away it’s hard to tell.

  “What would you like, siren?”

  I watch the uniformed man as he moves down a cell. “Can you tell a human from a fae on sight?” I ask.

  “Almost always,” she says. “Why?”

  I can’t help the spike of excitement I feel. “Have you seen any humans here since you were taken?”

  “Hmmm, not that I remember. I wasn’t looking for them though.”

  I continue to stare at the cook as he moves down the cell block. For the life of me I can’t tell what he is.

  “If you see any,” I say distractedly, “will you let me know?”

  If I can get a human to bend to my will … the possibilities are endless.

  I’m tempted to try out my powers right now, but a healthy dose of fear keeps me quiet. I’m afraid that if I glamour one of these guys prematurely and it doesn’t work, the guards will stop me from getting another opportunity.

  “My view is pretty limited at the moment, but yeah, I’ll let you know.” It’s silent for a beat. “Is it true then, what they say about a siren’s voice?”

  My mouth forms a grim line. “It’s true.”

  “Your idea will probably get you killed.”

  I guffaw. “You prefer the alternative?”

  I hear Aetherial’s husky laughter. “I was right about you. Stupid and courageous.”

  Neither of us speak again until a series of guards approach a cell across the way, one of them carrying two large poles over his shoulder. At the back of the cell, a fae woman with flame red hair lies limp on her pallet.

  The bars to her cell slide back, the metal scraping along its tracks.

  The guards file inside the cell, and the guard carrying the poles snaps them open. That’s when
I realize I’m not staring at poles, per se, but a crude gurney. A stained wisp of cloth is stretched between the two shafts.

  They set the gurney on the ground, then grab the woman, situating her body on the flimsy material.

  Then, as one, the two prison guards lift the gurney and cart her out. I watch them until they’re out of range.

  “They remove the lifeless ones,” Aetherial says from the cell over, clearly watching alongside me.

  They’re paralyzing the women.

  “Stay here long enough,” Aetherial continues, “it’ll happen to you too.”

  I frown, even though she can’t see it.

  All those sleeping women in Des’s kingdom, all the paralyzed ones here … it can’t be a coincidence.

  Which means—

  I think I know who the Thief of Souls is.

  Karnon.

  This time when I’m deposited in what I can only presume to be Karnon’s room, I know what to expect. The ominous press of air, the silent retreat of the guards, Karnon’s approach.

  I’m once again shackled and blinded, completely at the whim of the monstrous fae king. However, the moment he speaks, something about our dynamic feels different.

  “My precious bird, they blinded you,” he says, aghast. A moment later his claws slash through the material, leaving the cloth hanging in ribbons around my neck.

  “Beautiful creature,” he murmurs, taking me in. His nostrils flare as his gaze rakes over me. “Human … but not. Creature of the heavens and the sea.”

  His gaze halts at my hands. “Shackles too? This is preposterous. You are my guest.”

  He rips the iron cuffs binding my wrists clear apart, hissing as he does so. I startle at the show of strength. I assumed he was powerful, but seeing a live demonstration is sobering.

  “Cursed metal!” he spits out as the cuffs hits the ground. He clenches his fists, and I can hear his skin sizzling.

  Iron burns.

  In spite of the pain, he reaches between my ankles and rips apart the cuffs there as well, howling once again at the pain.