A Strange Hymn (The Bargainer Book 2)

  Des’s eyes narrow. “I’m not following.”

  I run my hands through my hair. My thoughts are all jumbled up. “I always thought there were two versions of Karnon, but what if there weren’t two versions of him—what if there was a completely separate entity inside of him?”

  Okay, saying that out loud sounds way more ludicrous than it did in my head.

  Des reels back.

  Seconds tick by. He’s not saying anything, and I’m beginning to think that my theory is Grade-A crap.

  “You think this is why the spell hasn’t lifted?” he asks. “Something or someone else was living inside Karnon, and it escaped his death?”

  When he puts it like that …

  I lift a shoulder, feeling like a naïve teenager all over again. I don’t know jack about fae magic and its limits.

  Hesitantly, Des nods his head, his brows furrowed. “It’s possible.”

  I don’t know whether I’m more relieved or frightened by his agreement. Because on the one hand, I’m happy he doesn’t think I sound crazy, but on the other hand … if what I suggested is true, then there is some malevolent fae creature that can body hop … and it’s still out there.

  Still hunting, still killing, still living.

  Chapter 20

  The next day, the palace is in a flurry of activity. Fairies throughout the royal grounds seem to be cleaning, primping, and packing—all, I assume, in honor of Solstice.

  “What the hell is going on?” Temper says when she pokes her head out of her suite, taking in the fairies rushing down the halls. Her hair is a rumpled mess, and she looks like she got very little sleep.

  I scrutinize her a bit more. “What were you up to last night … ?”

  “You mean after you abandoned me to the wolves?” She shakes her head. “Girl, that was low.”

  I roll my eyes. If anyone’s a wolf, it’s Temper. “Did you kill anyone?” I ask.

  “No, but I gave that nasty fairy measuring me split ends and dandruff.”

  Take it from Temper how to be cruel and unusual. Back in high school she had a whole notebook of crafty little hex ideas.

  “Temper, she was just doing her job.”

  She huffs out a breath. “She was sticking me like I was a voodoo doll! I wanted to tell her, ‘Bitch, my family invented voodoo dolls.’ Anyway …” She eyes me again. “What’s going on?” Her gaze drifts back to the bustling hallway.

  “Solstice,” I explain.

  “What about it?” She stifles a yawn.

  “It begins today.”

  “What?” she squawks.

  “We’re leaving in uh …” I reach for my cellphone before I remember that we’re in the freaking Otherworld, where electronics are nonexistent. If I want to rattle off the time, I’m going to have to learn to chart the stars.

  Ugh.

  “We’re leaving soon.”

  “How soon is soon?”

  I shrug. “I’m heading off to get changed.”

  “Changed? Into what?” Temper is glancing around the room like clothes will just materialize out of thin air.

  “A flour sack—an outfit, what do you think?” I edge away. “I got to go. Just get yourself ready and meet me down in the courtyard.”

  She lets out a frustrated growl, then closes her door.

  I head back to Des’s rooms, feeling oddly nervous about the week ahead. From everything I learned about Solstice, there will be balls and meetings and schmoozing, none of which appeals to me. And then there’s the fact that I’m going to have to rub elbows with fairies who believe humans are nothing more than slave labor.

  This is going to be super-duper fun.

  When I slip back inside Des’s chambers, there’s a package waiting for me on the bed, my name scrawled across it in looping script.

  Hesitating just a hairsbreadth, I flip the lid off. Resting inside the box is a gown unlike anything I’ve seen before. I’m not especially girly, but I have a healthy appreciation for nice clothing, and this is so much more than just nice.

  The pale material glows—glows—a soft blue color. The lacy neckline plunges in a deep V. I run my fingers over the material, and it’s both incredibly soft and quite delicate. Nestled next to the dress are two coiled, flowering vines, which also give off the same pale glow as the dress.

  Des comes out of the bathroom then, fiddling with his own outfit, which, like mine, is made of the same luminous material.

  He’s a far cry from the thuggish king I’m used to seeing, clad in fitted pants, knee high boots, and a shirt that lovingly molds itself to his wide shoulders and trim waist. Topping it all off is his hammered bronze circlet.

  Before I laid eyes on him, I would’ve assumed that such attire would make Des look less dangerous, but instead it serves to sharpen the slant of his eyes and the painfully beautiful cut of his jaw and cheekbones.

  Here is the monster that all those fairytales warned me of. A man too beautiful to be real, one who rides out on dark nights to snatch up wayward maidens.

  “Do you like it?” he asks.

  I nod at him dumbly, thinking he’s referring to himself, until I realize he’s gesturing to the package.

  I drag my attention back to the dress, noticing the corner of his mouth twitches.

  “It’s … breathtaking,” I say, staring down at my own outfit. And I mean it. I rub the luminescent cloth between my fingers. “What is it?”

  “Spun moonlight,” Des says, looking pleased by my reaction.

  “Spun moonlight?” I repeat. I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that in the Otherworld, this is perfectly normal. “And I get to wear this?”

  His lips twitch again. “That is the idea, cherub.

  He steps in close and strokes away the hair from my face. “I’ve waited years to see you dressed as the queens of my world are dressed,” he says.

  I touch the lapels of his suit. “Sometimes, I forget that you’re a fairy,” I admit.

  It’s ridiculous to think this happens to me; there’s nothing about Des that’s particularly humanlike, but he has a disarming nature about him that makes me forget. It’s only now, when I see him dressed in his fae attire that I remember.

  “I know,” he says softly.

  There’s so much in those two words that he leaves unspoken. Not for the first time, I wish he’d spill more of his secrets.

  I pull away from him. “Will you help me put the dress on?” Now that I have wings, clothes are a struggle.

  His hands slide down my back. In response, the clothes I currently wear slide off my body, leaving me in just a skimpy pair of panties. Of all Des’s magic tricks, I’m beginning to think this one is a favorite of his.

  My dress lifts from the box, drifting above me. All at once it slips downward, the material cascading over my body like water. I don’t even need to lift my arms; it settles seamlessly onto me.

  Des’s hands smooth over the lacey material that covers my arms.

  “Tell me a secret,” I say softly.

  I can hear the smile in Des’s voice when he says, “Greedy thing. I can see you won’t be pleased until you know all of my secrets.”

  I grin a little, mostly because what he says is true. I want to share every secret of his, simply because they are a part of him.

  His hands slip down my arms. “Fine, here’s one for my demanding mate: Normally, you’d have a retinue of ladies to dress and bathe you.”

  “How is that a secret?” I ask, turning to face him.

  “I eliminated that tradition the moment you came to my kingdom so that I could tend to you myself.”

  Wicked man. Not that I’m complaining.

  But, now that I think about it …

  I raise my eyebrows and look over my shoulder. “You would bathe me?”

  Des’s silver eyes deepen. The answer is written all over his face. “Would you like a bath?”

  Jesus, I swear this room just got five degrees hotter.

  I clear my throat. “Raincheck.
”

  “It’s a deal.”

  A shiver runs down my back. I forget that this man will make binding agreements out of common language.

  Not long after Des helps me into my dress, the two of us leave his chambers.

  I stare down at my outfit as I follow Des through his palace, Malaki and more guards joining us. The tight, lacey bodice flows into a wispy, floor-length skirt that trails behind me as we walk.

  Those flowering, luminescent vines that came with the dress now wrap up my wrists and forearms, some strange cross between gloves and jewelry. The flowers blooming from them are the same ones I’ve seen all across Somnia. I run a finger over the delicate petals. They feel real. More impossible, fae magic at work.

  We head out of the castle and across the palace’s extensive gardens, each one lit up by floating fairy lights and those glass encased sparklers.

  “Callie, there’s something I need of you,” Des says next to me.

  “It’s going to cost you,” I respond without missing a beat.

  He walked himself right into that one.

  His eyes brighten. “You saucy thing. You’ve clearly learned my tricks.” He doesn’t look at all upset by this. “A bargain it is.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask.

  Des looks ahead of us, and I follow his gaze. Waiting in a neat, orderly line that winds through the palace grounds are rows of foot soldiers and mounted horses. The soldiers all wear black uniforms embroidered with the same luminous thread that my entire dress is made from.

  Behind them, sitting astride the horses, are all sorts of fairies, from royal guards, to political aides, to what must be some of the kingdom’s nobility. Some of them hold instruments, while others carry lanterns from tall polls, and still others prop up banners with an image of a crescent moon, which I suspect is the royal crest.

  “I want you to let your siren out and keep her out until after you’re introduced to Mara, the Queen of Flora,” Des says, drawing my attention away from the sight in front of us.

  His request immediately puts me on edge. “I can’t control her.”

  “You don’t need to control her, cherub. You are the Night King’s mate. We represent all deeds better done in the dark.”

  The way he says that has my stomach tightening.

  Alright, so the dude’s giving me free reign to let my siren out. I stare at all the fae men and women ahead of us, thankful for once that my glamour can’t control other fairies. Because if it could, my siren would consider it open season.

  “I’ll agree to it on one condition,” I say.

  Des smirks, seeming to thoroughly enjoy the bargain I’m striking. “What do you want? You already have my balls—”

  “Lift my sobriety.”

  That wipes the amusement clean off his face. “No.”

  “Then forget about the siren,” I say with false bravado.

  Des stops to pull me in close. “Careful, little mate, how you play your hand.” He strokes my spine. “Tempting as your bargain is, you’re forgetting one simple truth.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “I could simply coax your siren out,” he says, his voice dipping low.

  If the King of the Night decides to seduce me, there’s not a whole lot that can stop my body from giving into him. Being a siren, I’m not hardwired to resist sexual overtures, especially not when they come from my mate.

  “You’d regret it,” I say, my voice equally low.

  He eyes me, weighing my words. “Fine,” he finally says, a fair bit of amusement returning to his eyes. “I agree to your terms. You can drink alcohol—for now.” He gives me a quick kiss on the lips, and as he does so, I feel a thread of his magic lift from me.

  I can drink again. Yasss.

  He pulls away from my lips, his eyelids heavy as he gazes at my mouth. “Your turn, cherub,” he says.

  It doesn’t take much for me to draw on my own magic. My skin begins to glow as I feel her take over. I roll my shoulders a bit, my gaze moving from Des to the fairies ahead of us.

  Those who catch sight of me appear captivated. It’s a different look than the ones humans wear, whose eyes always appear a little glazed, their minds willing to be bended. These fae don’t look as though they’re about to be dragged under by my glamour; they just seem fascinated by my appearance.

  I relax further, letting the siren loose in a way I rarely do on earth. I begin walking again, an extra sway to my hips, my entire body now glowing. A sinful smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

  Tonight is going to be fun.

  So many people wait for us—far more than I assumed were coming. I feel their mounting gazes on me as our group joins theirs. I feel my claws sharpen and my wings perk up a little.

  Des’s hand falls to my back, and now my attention goes to him, my eyelids lowering. If there is one person who, even now, has power over me, it’s him.

  His white hair is swept away from his face, the color of it nearly matching his outfit. It looks as though someone plucked the moon from the sky, made it into a man, and then gave him to me. All I want to do is fill myself with him. I will fill myself with him.

  He takes notice of my interest. “Give me just this evening, Callie. Then everything you want, I will give you,” he promises.

  “Everything I want?” My eyes move to his mouth, and I click my tongue. “You know better than to make such a blind deal.”

  His eyes alight. “I’m eager to see what you’ll do with it.”

  We’re interrupted by the clomping of hooves. A soldier holds the reins of two sleek black steeds.

  “Your mounts,” he announces.

  “We’re riding horses?” I say.

  The horse closest to me bumps its head into my shoulder, snuffling my hair.

  “Do you have an objection?” Des asks.

  I look at the beast again, feeling the siren beginning to fade away. Apparently no sex and no violence means no service.

  It’s an unusual task, trying to keep her out; I’m so used to repressing her whenever I can. I wrestle with my strange power, finally managing to wrangle control of her.

  “It’s fine,” I say.

  With that, Des grabs my waist and helps me mount my steed. I wait for it to nervously nicker, but it never happens. Either these are exceptionally well-trained horses, or Otherworld steeds are made of sturdier stuff.

  Next to me, Des smoothly swings himself onto his own mount, and the rest of Desmond’s closest men do so as well.

  Our horses trot back into line, moving into some sort of formation. I glance behind me, catching sight of Temper astride another horse, the dress she wears a deep burgundy color.

  Looks like she found something to wear.

  Malaki moves over to her on his own steed, and the look he gives her … good God, she’s officially sunk her talons into him.

  Someone whistles, and the musicians in our procession begin playing their instruments, the sound soft and ethereal.

  I turn back around as we begin moving, the line of soldiers and mounted steeds heading around the castle and towards the palace’s front gates. I find I don’t need to steer my horse; it moves as one with the group.

  Ahead of us, the gates open, and then there’s all of Somnia’s residents, cheering for us as we pass them by.

  Des leans over his horse to speak to me. “Fairies have begun exposing their wings,” he says, nodding to the crowd.

  I follow his gaze. He’s right. Many of them do have their wings out, their thin membranes glittering under lamplight.

  “Why are they all out?” I ask. Fairies usually only bare them when their emotions run high.

  “Because ours are,” he says.

  Indeed, Des, who once studiously hid his wings from me, now proudly bears them. And I have no choice but to show off mine.

  “Why would they imitate us?” I ask.

  “Because we’re royalty.”

  “You’re royalty,” I correct. “I’m not.”

&nbs
p; Des gives me an unreadable look, then nods distractedly.

  The procession winds through the city streets, and just when I think our pretty line of horses and soldiers intends to walk right off the edge of the island, we double back to the palace.

  Already I’d love to dismount, but something tells me that’s just not going to happen any time soon.

  My glowing hands tighten on the reins as I glance at the Bargainer, who watches the crowd like a wolf among men. He’s going to have to pay me steeply in sex before I consider this a fair trade—

  The arrow comes out of nowhere, whistling as it bears down on me.

  Des’s hand shoots out, snatching it just inches away from my breast.

  Holy shit.

  We both stare at the flimsy bit of wood and stone that might’ve very well killed me.

  My breath catches.

  Someone tried to kill me.

  My mate saved me.

  Des’s eyes flick up, tracing the trajectory of the arrow back to its source. His gaze hones on the figure hopping down from a nearby building.

  “Guard her,” the Bargainer commands to the soldiers nearest me, and then he disappears.

  A split second later I see him on a rooftop, his wings spread wide. He grabs a fae man and pulls him in close, pressing a blade to his throat. It only takes a moment for me to notice the plumage of feathers growing in place of his captive’s hair and the bow and quiver still strapped across his body.

  A Fauna fae tried to kill me.

  My wings are unfurling as adrenaline belatedly surges through me.

  Des spins the man so he faces the crowd. And then, in front of hundreds of his subjects, my mate drags his blade across the fairy’s throat. A waterfall of blood cascades from the wound.

  Fucking Methuselah, that is one way to handle your enemies.

  With a booted foot, Des kicks the fairy off the building.

  The crowd below parts as the dying man pinwheels through the air, landing on the ground with a sickening splat.

  For several seconds, the Bargainer remains on the rooftop, his chest heaving. He sheaths his weapon, then jumps into the sky, his wings fanning out around him. The crowd gasps as they watch those talon-tipped wings—dragon’s wings, demon’s wings—soar above them.