Dark Harmony by Laura Thalassa

Chapter 23

“… Enchantress …”

I suck in a breath at the voice. It comes from everywhere all at once.

“Enjoying your time on earth?”

I swivel in a circle, my feet digging into sand.

Sand … ?

That’s when my surroundings come into focus. There’s a beach, and the ocean, and a cliff—a very familiar cliff.

This is the beach beneath my house. I’ve been here a thousand times, usually alone. If my house is my sanctuary, this strip of land is my temple. And right now, it’s being defiled.

“Nice view,” the Thief says, his breath against my ear.

My skin flares to life as fear floods through me. I spin to face him.

The Thief is clad in dark clothes—human clothes. I thought I’d seen him at his scariest before, but the Thief masquerading as a human might be the most frightening version of him.

“How did you know where I was?” I ask.

“Callypso,” he runs a hand through his jet black hair, “I know everything.”

No supernatural is that omnipotent.

The Thief of Souls levels his pitiless gaze on me. For a moment we simply look at one another, then his eyes dip lower.

“That trick you do with your skin,” he says, “I quite like it.” He leans in close, his mouth brushing my ear, “I imagine being inside you is like fucking a star.”

The Thief straightens, running a hand down his shirt and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles. "Speaking of stars—” Before I realize what he’s doing, he captures my left hand. He angles it so that he can get a good look at my ring. “The King of the Night didn’t go cheap when he popped the question—and you said yes.”

“What did you think I’d say? ‘No’? That I was saving myself for you?”

He chuckles at that. “What a mortal thought. I rather enjoy our talks, enchantress. No, I want you to enjoy your mate’s company for as long as you possibly can. You see, life is just one long story; I don’t really care how yours begins … only how it ends.”

That sends a foreboding chill down my spine.

The Thief sits down in the sand then, and it’s so disarming. You expect evil to be obvious; you never expect it to act like anyone else might. He pats the ground next to him. “Join me.”

I stare down at him. “I don’t intend to stay here.”

“Would you rather go back into your house? Care to see if your mate’s there?” he says. “I wonder what that would be like, me cornering the two of you in your own home. Maybe we could all kiss and make up for our trespasses.”

That visual physically hurts.

“Or I could just hold you down and deflower your ‘virgin’ cunt while the Night King is forced to watch.”

This conversation is over.

I walk away from him. I haven’t taken five steps when the earth violently rolls, throwing me onto my back. Beneath me the sand shifts then resettles.

I blink up at the sky, a couple of seagulls crying out as they fly overhead.

“You are in my realm, enchantress. Here we play by my rules,” the Thief says. He sits right next to me, and I have no idea whether he moved to my side, or whether the earth deposited me at his.

My fingers dig into the sand. If I’m in his realm, a realm I only visit when I fall asleep, then …

I push myself up, studying his profile. “So you control small death, and everything that happens here.” Like shaking the ground and throwing me onto the sand.

The Thief’s eyes brighten. “The PI finally put it together. How very keen of you.”

This asshole.

I huff out a laugh. “You know what your problem is?” I say, rotating to face him once more. “You think you’re some special brand of evil, but you aren’t. I’ve met plenty of men like you before.” Men that use and break and destroy.

He gives me a sly smile, and I’ve never seen features so cold. It scares me—truly it does. I’ve caught the attention of an abominable thing, and I know the moment he really, truly gets his hands on me—not in some dream, but in the real, waking world—he’s going to ravage me.

“I assure you, enchantress,” he says, “you’ve never met a man like me.”

I wake in Des’s arms, my body covered in a cold sweat. I’m panting, my chest rising and falling.

A moment ago, the Thief and I were sitting out on the beach beyond my backyard, and I can’t shake the nonsensical belief that he’s still out there, staring up at my house, debating whether or not he should break down the door and fuck with me and Des.

I clasp onto the Bargainer’s forearm as he cradles my head and neck. I close my eyes and will my heartrate to slow.

When I open my eyes, the Bargainer is smoothing my hair away from my face. “We used to do this together,” he says softly, “back in your dorm room. You used to get nightmares and I’d wake you from them.”

Because even when we weren’t a we, Des was still saving me, over and over again.

“Do you remember?” he asks quietly.

I nod against him.

“And now the nightmares are back, and this time, I can’t save you from them.”

I draw in a shaky breath and press a hand to my clammy forehead. “He can control dreams—the Thief. He called the place his kingdom.”

Des frowns, his forehead wrinkling as his gaze searches my face. I think he’s about to tell me something, but the moment passes and his words never come.

Out my bedroom windows, I can hear the surf crashing against the shore. It’s one more visceral reminder of my dream.

I shudder out a breath. “I don’t know why he’s targeting me.” I’m embarrassed by how weak I sound.

“Listen to me,” Des says, gripping me tightly. “The Thief of Souls may be powerful, but you are no one’s victim. Do you understand?”

I swallow and nod.

Des searches my face, the moonlight casting his face in shades of blue. “Think you’ll be able to fall back to sleep?” he asks.

And end up in another one of the Thief’s sick dreams?

I shake my head.

The Bargainer let’s out a breath. “Then let’s grab breakfast.”

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s 3:02 a.m.

“Where are we going to get breakfast this early?”

Des just grins.

“I fucking love you, you know that, right?” I ask, pulling apart a chocolate croissant. Around us, sunlight filters into Douglas Café. It may be the middle of the night in Malibu, but it’s nearly lunchtime on the Isle of Man. The place is abuzz with people chatting over coffee and pastries, life moving along the same way it did when we used to come here a decade ago.

“It’s always nice to be reminded.” Des kicks his booted feet up on the table, leaning back to sip his espresso. The years might pass, but watching the big bad Bargainer drink coffee from a tiny cup will never get old.

I take a sip from my coffee, watching a group of teenage witches gossip as they wait in line to order.

“Do you ever wish you had that?” Des asks, following my gaze.

“Had what?”

The Bargainer smirks. “Don’t be coy, cherub. You know what I’m talking about.”

Girlfriends. A posse. A group of women that have your back and you have theirs. People who you’d shop with, borrow shit from, tell all your secrets to. There had been moments where I’d wanted all of that so desperately it hurt.

I take a deep breath, setting my mug down. “Sometimes—when I don’t think about what it would’ve cost me.” If I hadn’t been so desperately lonely, I wouldn’t have bartered for Des’s company. And if I hadn’t bartered for that …

“I would’ve come for you, love.” He kicks his feet off the table. “I searched a hundred years for you. I would’ve found you, one way or another.”

That confession warms me to the tips of my toes.

I take a final drink of my coffee, then push it away. I glance back at the girls, who’ve now moved off to the side as they wait for their order. “I do have a version of that,” I say softly.

Temper filled the gaping hole Des left in me, and I was there to fill her own holes.

God, that thought sounded so much dirtier than I intended. Not that Temper would mind the description.

“Ah, Temper, the woman I am forever indebted to. You know, I happen to know a bit about … her situation.”

My eyes widen. I know enough about her fucked up background, but I don’t know everything.

Des takes another sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime … for a price, of course.”

Of course.

The Bargainer downs his espresso and stands. “We should get moving. We’ve got an appointment to make.”

I brush off the cobwebs after we step off the ley line and into a condemned church.

Ley line portals occur in the eeriest places.

“Where are we?” I ask as Des leads me outside. Above us, the sky is overcast, and across the street, one building butts up against the next.

“London,” Des says, taking my hand.

For a moment, I don’t think that’s unusual. I’m used to showing up in random cities with Des. It’s what we always used to do together.

But now that Galleghar and the Thief are loose, and the Otherworld is in the midst of a war, London feels random.

“Why are we here?”

“You’ll see.”

With that cryptic remark, we head down the street. The two of us walk for several blocks, the Bargainer all but dragging my ass towards this mystery destination.

“Where are we going?” I ask again.

“I have an acquaintance who might be able to help us.”

Help us with what?

“Unless you’re taking me to the spa, I’m really not thrilled about this.”

I mean, I will risk another drop-in with Galleghar if it means getting some spa treatment, but that’s about it.

The Bargainer glances at me as we cross the street, his expression sly. “I thought breakfast bought me a little amnesty.”

I grumble at that because he has a point. You ply me with pastries and coffee, and I’ll overlook a lot of crap.

We finally stop in front of a sleek building.

“This is where you wanted to take me?” I ask, sizing it up. It looks like a place where fun goes to die. It’s all smooth edges and modern fittings, and frankly, it looks wrong, sitting right here in this old city. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to hate this.”

“Cherub, you don’t even know what this is.”

I snort. “Unless this place contains a themed bar, a year’s worth of macaroons, or fucking Santa Claus, it’s going to disappoint.”

All of which are also things I will risk a drop-in with Galleghar for.

“So dramatic. Maybe if you play nice, I’ll take you to a themed bar after this—I might even let you take body shots off of me.”

I thin my eyes at Des. “That’s blackmail right there.” Completely effective blackmail, but blackmail nonetheless.

“Your deduction skills are off the charts.”

I give my mate a light shove, grinning a little. “You don’t have to get all mouthy on me. And I’m totally holding you to those body shots.” Tequila ones. I want to lick salt off his grossly sexy abs and have him hand feed me limes.

Why yes, I am a freak.

Reluctantly I enter the building with him. It’s not until we reach the sixteenth floor and I see the metal placard fitted across the way that I realize what exactly the surprise appointment is.

“You’re taking me to visit a seer?” Simply saying the name sends a wave of adrenaline through my system.

No wonder the Bargainer was being all cloak and dagger about our destination. I never would’ve agreed to come here if I’d known.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we had someone look into your future, considering all that’s going on?” Des says.

“No, I don’t think so.” I don’t think so at all. Because, reasons. Good ones. Ones I don’t want to talk about.

I’m still staring at the sign.

Belleby & Sons, LLC

Seer

Forewarned is Forearmed

I shiver a bit. My stepfather was a seer. He worked in a place just like this one, dealing out fortunes to the richest and most powerful people—people who were often on the wrong side of the law.

That was how I first found the Bargainer. A client had given my stepfather Des’s card, and he kept it close at hand, ready to call on the Night King if he found himself in a tight situation. As fate would have it, I was that tight situation, and the Bargainer was my saving grace.

The floor is eerily silent, all except a distant moan. I rub my arms.

Those body shots are going to have to be the most delicious mouthfuls of tequila in the world.

Des places a hand on my back and leans over to kiss my temple. That’s the closest he comes to apologizing for the rotten trick he’s played on me. He leads me down the hall, and the place seems all but abandoned.

“Business is really booming,” I say.

Des’s mouth quirks, but the rest of his face is stoic.

We stop in front of a door. Behind it the moaning is louder.

Whoever is foreseeing futures here, it sounds like they’re busy ruining someone else life.

Maybe we should just come back later …

Without any warning, the Bargainer blasts the door open.

“Knock knock.”

Inside the room, a naked woman shrieks from where she lays sprawled on the desk, the man on top of her scrambling to disentangle himself.

“Oh shit,” the man says, catching sight of Des. He rapidly tries to shove his junk back into his slacks.

Just—ew.

The mostly naked woman screams again, trying (pretty unsuccessfully) to cover herself up.

I guess that explains the moans …

“I thought you said we had an appointment?” I hiss at Des.

My mate doesn’t look at me, instead shaking his head at the man. “You know better than to mix business with pleasure, Collin.”

Guess that’s the seer. Color me unimpressed.

The Bargainer waves his hand idly, and the clothes the woman is trying to put on fit themselves to her body. She yelps, then scrambles from the room.

“Damnit,” the man says, watching the woman leave before turning his attention to Des. “You could’ve called.”

He has a point—after all, forewarned is forearmed.

“My clients always say that,” Des says. “Problem is, when I call, they have a bad habit of disappearing, and I have a bad habit of finding them and adding interest to their bill. Really, this is better for all parties involved.”

Collin grabs his discarded shirt and slips it back on.

“What do you want?” he asks, disgruntled. He buttons up his shirt and leans back against the desk.

Going to need a Bible and some holy water to clean the deeds off that piece of furniture.

I feel the breath of Des’s magic leave him. A moment later, it slides the seer’s shirtsleeve up, revealing two jagged tally marks.

I step forward, instantly curious. It’s rare to see one of Des’s clients with more than one of his tattoos. Probably means that Des trusts Collin.

“Remind me again how many months you’ve had these?” the Bargainer asks.

The man pulls his sleeve back down, fidgeting with the cuff; I get a glimpse then of how young he really is. Mid-twenties maybe? And now that I’m looking for it, there are indications that he’s uncomfortable in the clothes he wears.

After what we walked in on, I wasn’t expecting that from this guy.

“I’m willing to pay off my debt,” Collin says. “Just tell me what you want.”

Now I hear Collin’s rough-around-the-edges accent. A scenario takes shape: a kid with promise but not a lot of options approaches the Bargainer. The Bargainer sees something of himself in the young man, so he helps him a little more than his other clients. And thus the young seer has an inspiring rags-to-riches tale and only two debts to show for it.

Collin’s eyes move to me, and there they catch.

“Who’s this?” He asks with a tad more interest than is professional.

“It doesn’t matter who she is. What matters is what you can do for her,” Des says.

The seer’s face turns cocky. He gestures for me to come forward.

“Wash your goddamn hands first,” Des growls. “You’re not touching her after having your fingers in some broad’s pussy.”

Collin raises his eyebrow but gets up. “I see our time apart hasn’t made you any nicer.”

Des’s eyes flick briefly around the room. “I see our time apart has made you richer.”

The seer grunts. Giving me a little nod, he leaves the room.

I turn to the Bargainer. “Why are we doing this?”

Really don’t want to be here.

“Cherub, I personally promise that if Collin does anything you don’t like—”

I open my mouth.

“—other than foreseeing your future—”

Damnit. I close my mouth.

“—I will personally gut him from navel to throat.”

Jesus.

“Well, I’ll collect my last favor from him, then I’ll gut him navel to throat,” Des amends.

“No one needs to gut anyone else. I just—”

The door opens, and the rest of my words die away as Collin returns.

“All right,” the seer says, “where were we?” His eyes fall to me, brightening with interest. “Oh, right, you want a reading.”

“I don’t want a reading,” I say, just because I figure that point needs clarifying.

Collin turns to Des.

“Give her a reading.”

Ugh.

The seer clears his throat. “Okay. Please, take a seat ma’am.” He gestures to a nearby couch.

I’m sure I look like a petulant child as I take a seat. I mean, I get it, just because my stepfather was Satan (that’s not literal—I’ve heard Satan is actually a lot nicer than Hugh Anders), doesn’t mean all seers suck.

But it also doesn’t mean I have to be a good sport about this.

Collin sits down next to me, and Des moves to the wall across from the couch, leaning against it and folding his arms, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his AC/DC shirt.

Seriously unfair that the Bargainer can look that tasty even when I’m annoyed at him.

“I’m Collin,” the seer says, drawing my attention back to him. “Figure you ought to know my name before I go peering into your future.”

I’m about to clap back that I already know his name and this sucks and everything sucks, but I force out a smile. “Callie.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Yeah, whatever.

The seer takes my hands, his thumbs stroking my skin in a way that’s not entirely professional. But maybe that’s just me.

I stare down at our hands, and as I look at them, I begin to sense his heartbeat pounding beneath his skin, moving magic with blood. His human power fills my senses.

His ability is strong, staggeringly so.

My eyes flick up to Collin.

I think I’m waiting for incense, incantations—at the very least an open flame or a shallow bowl of water to divine my future from. My stepfather had a bowl he used to carry around that was meant for scrying. He never used it on me—he never dared to face his monstrous deeds head on—but he liked using it with clients.

This seer doesn’t do any of that. He breathes in deeply, his gaze fixed on mine, his eyes searching, searching …

They unfocus.

My own gaze goes to Des, who’s settled himself in a nearby chair. With one booted foot, he’s tilted the seat so it rests on its two back legs.

When he catches me staring, the edge of his mouth curls up. He begins to levitate himself and the chair, entertaining me like he used to when I was a teenager.

I begin to snicker.

“Eyes on me,” the seer says gently.

My attention returns to Collin. The two of us stare at one another for a long time. Long enough to make me shift in my seat and for this to feel awkward. Long enough for me to vividly visualize those body shots.

It takes another minute, and then Collin begins to speak. “I see another entity shadowing you, slipping into your consciousness when it has a chance—what can do that?” the seer murmurs to himself. “This is no incubus … this is … no earthly being. It will continue to haunt you. It wants to … I’m not sure. It wants you—enchantress.”

That name. I tense.

Des’s chair lands harshly.

Now Collin closes his eyes. Seconds pass, and his breathing seems to slow.

This feels like it’s going off script …

The seer’s eyes snap open.

I rear back. I know the creature staring behind those eyes.

This is no seer.Not anymore.

He begins to speak. “Hurry enchantress, you’re running out of time.”

I try to pull my hands free, but Collin’s grip tightens.

“I’ll devour you slowly, your life is mine.”

The corner of Collin’s mouth curls up into a sinister smile.“So flee from me, for once I’m through, I’ll be freeing myself and coming for you.”

The seer drops my hands, coughing and rubbing his throat. When he glances up again, the Thief is no longer in his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” he rasps.

I’m shivering, and not just from apprehension. The room’s grown cold and dark.

Des steps out from the shadows. “That was a creature in need of extermination,” he says, helping me off the couch. “What else did you foresee?” he asks, staring at Collin.

The seer clears his throat, still rubbing at it. “I saw darkness and death, and something about it was … aware. Whatever that shit was, it’s closing in on her,” he says, nodding to me. “If no one stops that thing … then it will get ahold of her. And in that case,” Collin looks at me apologetically. “Death is not what you should worry about.”

Death is not what you should worry about.

That should be the Thief’s slogan. I’ve already seen that when it comes to this monster, there are other brutally twisted things he can do that circumnavigate death.

And now my mind conjures up all sorts of impossible things that are worse than death.

See, this is what I mean about wanting to have a normal life. Normal people don’t have to worry about things worse than simply dying.

Collin rolls his shirtsleeve up just as one of the two black lines disappears from his skin.

“That was really all you wanted?” he asks.

“Would you like me to take more?” The darkness still hasn’t lifted.

“No—no,” the seer rushes to say.

“Then I’ll be around,” Des says. “And professional tip: try to keep your dick in your pants during the workday. It’s bad for business.”

Desmond puts a hand on my back. “Ready to go, cherub?” he says, his voice gentling for me.

I nod.

More than ready.

Collin reaches a hand out, presumably to shake Des’s. The Bargainer looks down at it with mild distaste.

Instead of taking the seer’s hand, a black business card manifests between Des’s fingers. “You know how this works. We’re not fucking chums. Give my card to a friend in a tight place, or don’t, but don’t forget where we stand. You still have a favor left.”

I guess that’s as close as the Bargainer ever gets to his nicer clients.

Collin takes the card from Des, and that should be the end of things.

It’s not.

Maybe Collin is cocksure, or curious, or maybe he just wants to make a point, but at the last minute he grasps Des’s hand anyway, forcing the Bargainer into a hostage handshake.

The moment Collin’s skin comes in contact with my mate’s, the seer sucks in a breath, his eyes unfocusing.

Me thinks someone else is getting their fortune read …

Next to me, Des’s form flickers. One second Collin has him in a handshake, and in the next Des grabs the seer by the throat.

He slams Collin back against the wall. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember asking you to fucking read my future,” the Bargainer says calmly. There’s nothing to give away his simmering anger—no shadows, no outline of wings—nothing.

Collin pries at Des’s fingers uselessly, but the more their skin comes into contact, the worse off the seer appears to be. Collin’s eyes roll back, his breath choking. His body spasms once, twice.

I step forward. “Des, what are you doing?” I ask, alarmed.

He frowns at the seer. “Nothing.” As if to prove his point, the Bargainer releases the man.

Collin crumples to the ground, his body weak and shaking. He moans, his eyelids fluttering. He coughs. “Bargainer—”

The Night King stares impassively at him. “You pull that stunt again, you’ll lose those fingers one by one.”

Des glances over at me. “Ready, cherub?”

Uh … “Yep.”

Des places a hand on my back and leads me to the door.

“Wait,” Collin calls out from behind us.

The Bargainer doesn’t slow.

“There’s something you should know,” the seer says, his voice hoarse. “The darkness … the darkness will betray you.”