“I cashed in years of favors for breadcrumbs, and still it took me days to find myself in the Fauna Kingdom.”

  My heart squeezes as I watch Des recall those days I was missing. I hadn’t known any of this.

  “I should’ve been able to find you. I should’ve. The way my power works … the secrets I hear—the voices that tell me what I need to know—they were ominously quiet.”

  Secrets? Voices?

  He reaches for my hand, pressing the back of it to his mouth. I feel the slightest tremor in his touch, like the memory is still visceral to him.

  “What about our bond?” I ask. “Couldn’t you have found me through it?”

  I’d heard tales of soulmates tracking each other down, their bond like a compass directing them to the location of their mate.

  Des tears his gaze from the horizon.

  “There is something about our bond that I haven’t admitted to you …”

  I don’t know how a single sentence can fill me with such foreboding, but this one does. My gut squeezes.

  “What is it?” I can barely force the words out.

  “Cherub, our bond … has issues.”

  Chapter 31

  When I find Temper back in her room, she’s picking out what to wear. Today, her hair is plaited in dozens of braids, crystals and spirals of gold woven into them.

  “What’s up, chick?” she says after I plop onto her bed.

  I watch her change, propping my head on my hands.

  “Nothing …”

  Everything.

  “Not going to lie, these fae outfits are cute as fuck,” she says, tossing one next to me.

  I make a noncommittal response.

  Why did I come here? Temper is practically humming under her breath. Clearly things between her and Malaki are going well. She’s a sorceress in lust, which means she’s in no mood for a sad story.

  “What is it?” she asks as she begins undressing.

  “Nothing.”

  Temper snorts. “Bitch, we’ve been friends for nearly a decade. Stop beating off the bush—”

  I wince. “Around, Temper. Beating around the bush.”

  She turns to me. “Does it look like I fucking care about prepositions? Just spit out whatever’s on your mind.”

  “Des and I aren’t officially soulmates.” It comes out as a whisper.

  She pauses in the middle of changing, her boobs on full display. “What do you mean?”

  I grab the bra from the pile of clothes next to me and throw it at her. Distractedly, she begins to put it on.

  I can hear Des’s words up in that treetop.

  Cherub, our bond … has issues.

  “When I was Karnon’s prisoner, Des couldn’t find me because even though we’re technically mates … our magic is incompatible.”

  “Incompatible?” Temper says, looking bewildered. “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. How can it be incompatible?”

  “I’m a human. He’s a fairy. Our magic comes from different worlds.” It’s the same reason why my glamour doesn’t work on the fae, and why Karnon’s dark power never worked on me.

  It’s not like human and fae magic is completely incompatible—Des can obviously use his own powers on me—but when it comes to the melding of our two essences … our bond is imperfect.

  Temper harrumphs. “And yet you’re still soulmates?”

  I nod, my chin rubbing against the backs of my hands. That was the one thing Des emphasized over and over again.

  You are my mate.

  “Alright, so then suck it up,” Temper says, slipping on her outfit. “At least you have a soulmate. The rest of us have to do this whole love thing the old fashioned way.”

  I grab one of her pillows and bury my face into it. “Ugh, you’re right,” I say.

  “Of course I’m right.” She sees the pillow in my hand. “Oh, uh, you don’t want to be cuddling that. I’m pretty sure it was used as a prop last night when Malaki—”

  “Eugh!” I toss the pillow away while my friend laughs her ass off.

  “Girl, your face was deeper in that pillow than Malaki’s dick was in me.”

  “I don’t want to hear this for so many reasons.”

  So. Many.

  “He’s huge,” Temper says, flopping onto the bed next to me. “But you know, just the right amount of huge. We both know there’s such a thing as too much dick.”

  I groan. Really, why had I come here?

  “And when he starts going at it,” she continues, “the fucker’s like a jackhammer—”

  Okay, that visual is thirty different types of disturbing.

  “—I just have to hold on for dear life.”

  I push myself off the bed. “Alright, story time’s over.”

  “Don’t act like you didn’t want to know.”

  “There’s knowing and then there’s knowing,” I say.

  No one needs Temper’s level of detail.

  “Are you ready?” I ask her when she finishes changing.

  “Gah, you’re such a hustler,” she says. She shakes out her hair and grabs her things. “I’m ready.”

  The two of us leave Temper’s room and head for the gardens below us. We cut through the palace grounds, stopping when we come to a table and chairs. We take a seat, and for a minute or so after we sit down, we don’t talk, instead watching the fairies that stroll.

  “So,” Temper says, finally dragging her attention off the fairies around us, “where is everyone’s favorite criminal?” she asks.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” She and I know a lot of criminals.

  Temper sighs. “The Bargainer.”

  “Oh—more meetings.” Ones that are strictly for rulers only. I should be there; I know that the discussions will include the reports of Karnon’s captives. But tradition forbids me from joining, so here I am, twiddling my thumbs with Temper.

  A human woman comes up to us carrying a tea set and a plate of little sandwiches, the crust removed from them. I tense when I see the branded skin of her wrist as she sets the tray on our table.

  A slave.

  Being served by her feels wrong. If she chose to be a waitress, that would be one thing, but this is something else entirely.

  Her eyes are downcast as she begins to set teacups in front of us.

  I try to wave away her efforts to serve us. “It’s alright,” I say, “we’ve got this. Thank you for bringing this out.”

  She won’t look at me, even as she nods. And damnit, I feel bad about everything I’m doing and not doing right now because slavery twists it all up into something ugly.

  She turns to leave.

  “Hey, wait,” Temper says to the woman.

  The woman doesn’t react.

  “Hey,” Temper says, “I’m talking to you.”

  The human woman pauses. Then, hesitantly, she turns back around.

  Temper pats the empty seat next to her. “Sit down.”

  The woman looks like sitting is the last thing she wants to do, but reluctantly she does in fact sit down.

  “What’s your name?” As Temper talks, she begins fixing the woman a plate of sandwiches and a cup of tea.

  “Gladiola.” The woman fidgets, glancing around us nervously.

  “Hi, Gladiola, I’m Temper and this is Callie,” she says, introducing us. “Do you know what we are?”

  Tentatively, Gladiola nods.

  “So you’re aware that I can smite the shit out of any fairy that pisses me off, and that Callie here can get you to do whatever she wishes if she wants to?”

  Awesome, coercing and scaring the enslaved human woman. Just how I envisioned spending Solstice.

  Gladiola nods again.

  “Oh, good. Well then, now that that’s cleared up, let’s enjoy a little snack together.” Temper pushes the plate of sandwiches she fixed for Gladiola a little closer to the woman. “So, tell me, what’s the latest gossip?”

  Her eyes dart to me. “I’m not su
pposed to talk with you.”

  “Why not?” Temper asks. “We’re all humans here.”

  She just shakes her head.

  “C’mon,” Temper encourages, “it’s alright, we just want to know a little gossip.”

  I stare warily at my friend, trying to figure out what she’s playing at.

  Gladiola lets out a shaky breath. “The fairies are uncomfortable that a human woman is going to become the next Night Queen.”

  “I’m not going to be queen,” I say.

  The woman glances down at her hands in her lap. “They don’t trust the Night King either. He killed another king, and the Fauna fae want revenge. And—” She hesitates.

  “And what?” Temper encourages.

  Gladiola’s hands twist in her lap. “People have been saying that the Night King is behind the disappearances.”

  My stomach drops. That’s the second person today to say such a thing.

  “They say,” she continues, “that he’s the last person they see.”

  Unease skitters up my back.

  It’s just a rumor.

  Gladiola glances between the two of us. “Can I leave?”

  Before either Temper or I can respond, a series of Night soldiers come running through the gardens.

  Several of them flash past us before I snag one of them by the shirtsleeves. “What’s going on?”

  He almost doesn’t stop. It’s not until he sees who caught him that he pauses.

  He takes in a deep breath. “Another soldier has disappeared.”

  Chapter 32

  Another soldier has disappeared. That’s all I can concentrate on that evening as fairies enjoy yet another dance inside the Flora kingdom’s castle.

  Since arriving here, three Night soldiers, four Fauna soldiers, one Day soldier, and two Flora soldiers have disappeared from the outskirts of the palace grounds. The numbers are staggering, even for the Thief of Souls.

  Whoever he is, he’s growing bolder—or more desperate.

  The whole thing casts a dark pall on the festival. Even this evening’s ball is a more somber occasion than the last two. The conversations are subdued, and I swear I see fairies looking over their shoulders, like the boogeyman might jump out and snatch them when they’re not looking.

  This evening, rather than enjoying himself, Des ping-pongs from one official to the next, receiving updates, offering suggestions, and listening to worries. Even now, even when he’s supposed to be enjoying the evening, he’s working. I watch him, his arms folded across his massive chest as he leans down to listen to a Flora fae.

  “I’m surprised he left you alone.” Janus steps up to my side, looking like the morning sun.

  Almost immediately, I feel my panic rise.

  He’s not going to take me, I try to calm myself. Not here at least.

  An even sharper thought lances through me.

  What if he’s behind the recent disappearances?

  Sure, he wasn’t here that first evening when two of our men went missing, but he did take me, that I’m sure of.

  “I’m surprised you’re not alongside him offering aide and advice.” I’m proud that my voice doesn’t tremble as I speak.

  “I wanted a drink”—he lifts his glass—“and a break.” He swirls his wine. “Besides, I find the King of Night insufferable—no offense.”

  He glances at me, and I hold his gaze. Everything about him is made to be warm and inviting, from his tan skin to his golden hair to his bright blue eyes. And yet I find him cold, so very, very cold.

  You took me. We both know it.

  “You must hate me,” he says softly, not looking away.

  “Are you admitting to what you did?” I can’t believe I’m actually having this conversation.

  “I didn’t take you.”

  “You and I both know that’s not true,” I say.

  “Gods above,” he says, glancing heavenward, “it is.”

  My skin is crawling. Every second I stand here talking to this man, I feel like I’m one step closer to death.

  “Listen,” I say, leaning in, “I don’t know if you are the Thief of Souls, or if you simply work for him, but I will fucking pin this on you, you sick son of a bitch.”

  I’m shaking, and I’m frightened, and I’m hopped up on enough adrenaline to lift a car, but I just looked my abductor in the eye and told him off.

  Goddamn, I feel like a badass.

  I’m about to leave when he catches my wrist. “Wait—”

  “Do not touch me,” I warn.

  From his conversation across the room, Des’s head snaps up, his attention honing in on us.

  Janus releases my wrist like it burned him. “I was giving a speech to my people when you were taken. I have proof.”

  Shadows creep up the edges of the room.

  “I don’t believe you,” I tell him. But not for the first time today, I hesitate. Am I remembering things wrong?

  Suddenly, none of that matters because Des materializes in front of me, coming between me and the King of Day.

  “Janus, you need to step the fuck away from my mate.” Des’s wings begin to unfurl, his talons looking particularly lethal. “Don’t talk to her,” he takes a step forward, “don’t look at her,” another ominous step, “don’t come close to her.” The two are almost nose to nose. “As far as you’re concerned, she doesn’t exist.”

  Around us, the room has gone quiet. I’m pretty sure everyone is expecting a repeat of last night’s brawl.

  Janus appears unimpressed. “You’ve forgotten your place, Flynn. It’s within my rights to speak to any and all of the subjects here, mated or not.”

  Des’s voice drops low, so that only I can hear it. “Have I told you how easy it was to kill Karnon? His bones broke like twigs, his body burst like overripe fruit.” Des smiles, the action cruel. “Ending him was the easiest thing to do in the world.

  “Don’t make the same mistake he did. Stay the fuck away from my mate, or I will kill you, just as I did the mad king.”

  Des’s warning is enough to keep Janus at bay.

  I rub my arms as I watch Janus move into the crowd, downing his wine and snagging another flute from a nearby table.

  Slowly, the Bargainer’s wings tuck back into themselves and the darkness recedes.

  “Are you alright?” Des asks, his hands moving to my upper arms. He looks me over, like Janus might’ve done some damage to me while we talked.

  I nod, taking in a shaky breath. “I’m fine. He just … he unnerves the shit out of me,” I say, my eyes wandering to the Day King, who’s now talking with Mara and the Green Man, the three watching Des and I carefully.

  The Bargainer lets out a husky laugh, some of his dangerous edge dying away with it. “And to think I’d once worried that you’d like the asshole.”

  I remember Des telling me about the King of Day, that he was the lover of truth and honesty and beauty, and yadda, yadda, yadda.

  I let a very real shudder course through me.

  Des’s hand cups my face. “We can leave. Right this second. My men will pack our bags and follow us. Janus cannot step a foot onto my kingdom without me knowing, and he’s aware that if he does, death awaits him.” The Bargainer’s eyes glint with malice.

  Perhaps Des does descend from demons. I see something at the back of his gaze that craves violence far more than even my siren.

  “All you have to do is say the word,” he says.

  His offer is so very tempting. If I stay, I’ll have several more days of this.

  But if we left …

  If we left, it would make Des look weak or worse, guilty.

  I shake my head. “Let’s see this through.”

  He stares at me for several seconds before nodding. “If you change your mind—”

  “I’ll tell you,” I finish for him.

  The next hour is filled with discussion after discussion as Des and I move about the room. Now that the Bargainer is at my side, I’ve gotten roped into talking wit
h fairies. Bleh. It doesn’t help that these are the same fairies that are desperately trying to ignore my existence. It would actually be fairly entertaining if it weren’t so grating.

  I’m a human, not a human-shaped dump someone took on the floor. No one has to pretend I don’t exist.

  Despite Des’s best efforts, I eventually manage to slip away. As I move away from him, he gives me a look that has me clutching my bracelet of beads.

  Me thinks I’m going to pay later for leaving him to suffer his fate alone.

  I mosey over to the table where row after row of wine glasses sit, ripe for the taking.

  Don’t mind if I do.

  I snag one, sighing a little after I take my first sip.

  So dang good.

  Several minutes into my escape, I realize I have no conversation to join. Both Malaki and Temper are suspiciously absent. I search the crowd for Aetherial, wondering if she’s here tonight. If she is, I don’t see her.

  I take another sip of my drink. The only other people I’ve come to know here are the rulers. Eff no am I talking to Janus, who’s currently schmoozing with some Fauna fae officials, and Mara is on the dance floor, in the middle of the closest thing to an open orgy that I’ve ever seen. Her harem of men clamor around her, their hands and lips pressed against her skin. It’s weird to see them all gyrating together while a string quartet plays in the background, and it’s even weirder that I’m watching.

  I desperately want to unsee this … but I also can’t look away.

  Damnit, where is Temper when you need her? She’d have a whole commentary on what’s going down.

  But instead of Temper, I get the Green Man. He sidles up next to me, and I suppress a groan.

  Not him.

  He follows my gaze to Mara and her harem.

  “You get used to it,” he says.

  I take a healthy swig of my drink.

  Jesus, Joseph, and Mary am I glad I can drink again. Fairies, I’m quickly learning, are best dealt with while buzzed.

  “Flora fae are not usually monogamous—not even mates,” he continues.

  Don’t care and don’t really want to know.

  “Huh,” I say.

  “The past kings of the Night realm have not been either. Not even your mate’s father.”