A Strange Hymn
Page 51

“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 with 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.”
The Green Man stands a little too close, and my hand twitches with the need to push him away a few feet.
“I know.”
Drop the subject, Green Man. Please, for the love of baby angels, drop the subject.
“I would think that, as future queen of the Kingdom of Night, you yourself would be open to … hedonistic pursuits.”
I don’t know if he’s propositioning me, or just feeling me out, but ugh, this guy is creepy.
I grimace. “I’m not.”
Mara grabs one of the men nearest her, kissing him deeply on the dance floor while another man squeezes her breast.
… And her mate stands at my side, watching the entire thing go down.
The ick factor of this situation is off the charts.
“Once you get past the unusual nature of it, I think you’ll find that it can be very liberating. I’ve had many, many lovers—though never a human woman.”
Alright, that was definitely a proposition.
I down my wine, and when that doesn’t make the situation immediately better (it was worth a try), I push the Green Man back several steps. “You need to back up, buddy.”
And I need more wine. I need all the wine.
“So, what does the King of the Night intend to do with you, a mortal?” he asks, smirking down at me, his chest still pressed against my hand.
I look at the Green Man, really look at him. “Excuse me?” What kind question is that? I’m Des’s mate, not some new hire.
“Producing heirs,” the Green Man muses aloud, “that would be at the top of his mind, especially given his age and your fertility …”
Producing heirs?
Producing—heirs?
I feel like I’m pressing the fast-forward button on my brain, my thoughts racing by at warp speed until they stop at one very poignant realization.
Des and I have been having unprotected sex.
Des and I have been having unprotected sex.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
There’s suddenly not enough wine in the world for this conversation.
My hand drops from the Green Man’s chest.
I haven’t been using birth control. Des hasn’t been wearing condoms.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
What sort of loser just forgets about these things?
It’s a trick question because obviously this bitch right here is the loser that does.
Des and I have never talked about the subject of children, aside from one confession he forced out of me weeks ago, where I admitted that I wanted to children with him.
But not this second.
What if, oh God, what if … what if I’m pregnant?
The Green Man’s voice drifts in. “… fae aren’t particularly fertile, but humans are.”
Gah, this dude won’t shut up about it. Where is the eject button for this conversation?
I catch sight of Temper, who is entering the ballroom, self-consciously straightening her dress.
There is my escape.
“Temper—Temper!” I call out, the panic clear in my voice.
She whips about, searching the crowd until she sees me. My best friend takes one look at my expression and another at the man next to me, and bless her to the ends of the earth, she begins to slip through the crowd, a determined look on her face.