Dark Harmony by Laura Thalassa

Chapter 29

Malaki is already striding to the door. He points to me. “You need to bar yourself. Guards—”

He’s not being serious, is he?

“I’m coming with you,” I say, following the general out the doors. “I can stop them.”

Malaki lets out a breath. “Desmond would want me to protect you.”

Des, who’s noticeably absent.

“Desmond would love to see you try.”

Malaki mutters something about stubborn human women under his breath.

The two of us head down the hallway, surrounded by guards.

“I can stop the soldiers with my glamour,” I insist.

“Do you really think I’ve forgotten?” Malaki asks, his voice sharp. “The problem is the Thief knows that too. Whatever this is, it’s most certainly a trap.”

“I don’t care.”

Malaki grabs my upper arm, swiveling me around to face him. “Damnit, Callypso,” he growls, “you will listen to me!”

My skin brightens. “Let go of me.”

Malaki’s hand drops from my arm.

“No one talks to me that way,” I say, venom in my voice. “Not even Des, and definitely not you.”

“You are thinking with your head not your heart!” Malaki says. “I’ve seen hundreds of men killed for doing similar.”

My voice heats. “Do you really think I’m eager to run headlong into battle? That I want to be killed or captured and reunited with that monster we’ve been hunting? You forget—I’ve been his prisoner once before. I’ve seen what he does to the fairies he plays with.”

So long as I live, those memories will never leave me.

“What the fuck is going on now?” Temper’s voice carries from down the hall.

Startled, Malaki and I turn to face her.

My friend looks sleepy and disgruntled, but despite that, her hair is on point, and she still managed to slip on a glittering black dress.

She fairies it way better than I do.

I relax at the sight of her. The thing about being best friends for as long as Temper and I have is that half of our conversations don’t need words. All she has to do is take one look at my face and my exasperated expression, and her sharpened gaze slides to Malaki.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demands.

“Temperance,” Malaki says, “I don’t have time for this.”

“The hell you don’t. You better damn well make time.”

He hesitates, and that’s all the opening I need.

I mouth thanks to Temper, and slip down the hall.

“Hey!” Malaki shouts after me, but then I hear Temper lay into him, and let me tell you, that girl knows how to rip a man a new asshole. I can still hear her when I turn down the next hallway, making my way to the front of the palace.

A few guards have broken away from Malaki; they now trail after me. If any of them disagree with my getting involved in this situation, they keep that opinion to themselves.

I enter the entrance hall and head towards the huge bronze doors leading out.

Can’t believe I’m doing this. Des wanted me to be his queen, and I fought and fought against that … And now I find myself here, eagerly taking on a threat to his kingdom.

The guards manning the main entrance open the doors for me, and then I’m passing them by, leaving the castle behind me.

I come to a halt when I notice them.

Sleeping soldiers are marching up the streets of Somnia, headed right for the gates, and there must be hundreds of them. These sleeping soldiers aren’t from the Night Kingdom. Some have flowers sprouting from their hair, others have feathers and tails.

This is what remains of the Thief’s stolen army. These are the victors, the ones who’ve been terrorizing the Flora and Fauna Kingdoms. The evidence of it is in plain sight—most of them are covered in gore, blood and other bits matted into their hair or else dried and discolored on their clothing.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned of fairies, it’s that they take grooming very seriously. Which makes the whole thing all the more ghastly. This army looks like the risen dead.

But despite their gruesome appearance, for once they’re not madly striking out. And they’ve come here of all places …

One of the royal aides bustles up to me. “My queen, we barred the ley line portals just like the king asked—they got through anyway.”

The Thief of Souls’ power … it eclipses that of a king.

“We took several of the soldiers down at the portal entrance, but they’re not attacking …”

I take an audible breath, and the aide stops talking.

“I’ll deal with them,” I say, still eyeing the soldiers.

The aide backs away, leaving me alone. Ahead of me, the soldiers march in orderly lines, their faces passive.

The moment they reach the gates, they stop. Their final footfall echoes through the streets, and then all is silent.

I take another deep breath and cross the yard, towards the fence that encircles the palace. As I approach the soldiers, I release my siren. My skin illuminates, and my stride turns a little sensual.

“You are not to harm any of the Night King’s subjects,” I shout, my voice carrying through the night.

Silence. Then—

“We’re not here for them,” one of the soldiers says. Her voice is quiet, yet her words seem to reach every corner of this city.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“You know why,” another soldier says.

I don’t actually.

I stop several feet from the gate. “Enlighten me,” I say softly.

“Your days are few, enchantress,” one of the soldiers across from me says. “We look forward to spreading those pretty thighs of yours and seeing what a king’s treasure tastes like.”

It tastes like your death, my siren whispers.

Around me, the night darkens.

Des.

“The next soldier to threaten my wife will be openly eviscerated,” the Bargainer calls at my back, his voice ringing into the night. “And please test me.”

I spin to face him.

The King of the Night paces towards me, clad in his royal regalia. His bronze circlet sits across his forehead, and his three bronze war bands are on prominent display. He even wears a cape, and it should look ridiculous, fluttering and snapping behind him, but if anything it seems only to add to his menacing presence.

Des comes up to my side, his wings fanning out behind him. “I leave for one hour, and look what trouble my mate gets herself into,” he says softly, his eyes sparking. “You’re not even wearing your daggers. Have I not taught you better?” He snaps his fingers, and the daggers and their holsters manifest, fitting themselves around my hips.

Beyond him, Malaki is storming out of the palace. Temper saunters out behind him, looking pleased.

For the moment, Des and I have Somnia’s attention. His people watch from windows and rooftops and the streets below. The soldiers stare sightlessly forward, though I know that behind those seemingly empty eyes, the Thief of Souls lurks.

Des eyes them. “Why are you here?” he asks.

“Is it not custom for new rulers to meet?” a soldier replies.

As I stare out at the sleeping soldiers, I notice that among them are a few casket children. I have to bite back my horror at the sight of their sweet faces covered in gore, their eyes filled with malicious delight. Their bodies might be young, but whatever souls reside within them, they’re ancient, corrupted things.

“The Night Kingdom does not recognize your rule, Thief,” Des says.

For a moment, the only noise is the snapping of the Bargainer’s cape in the wind. Then a low laugh starts up among the soldiers. It raises my gooseflesh, hearing that evil laugh ripple amongst the line of them.

“For now.”

I step forward, my skin burning bright. “You’re so eager to acquire this kingdom, and yet here we all stand. I dare you to make good on just one of your threats and take me.”

Come for me, and I will rip you to shreds.

I’m not surprised when the air darkens. Des hates when I bait the Thief.

“Tempting,” the soldier says.

I open my arms. “Take me, Thief. Right here, right now. I know you want to.”

“Cherub.”

I ignore the King of the Night as I step closer to the edge of the property.

A great hush has fallen over the crowd. It was silent before, but now it’s as though the world is holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. I can feel a thick, dark magic pooling around me. Whoever the Thief of Souls is, his hunger presses down on me.

The first line of soldiers steps forward, until they’re right up against the fence. Grabbing their weapons, they lift them and strike out at the bronze railing.

Before their steel ever hits the fence, it collides with an invisible barrier—some strong enchantment made to ward off the enemy. The ward doesn’t simply hold, it blasts the line of soldiers back like an explosion, throwing them into their comrades.

Another line of soldiers steps forward and attempts to break the enchantment, and like the first row, they’re blown back. Then a third row comes forward—

“Stop,” I command.

Immediately, the crowd stills.

I look over the men and women, with their empty eyes. “You might be strong, Thief, but today won’t be the day you defeat the Night Kingdom.”

“So confident. So strong,” a soldier says. “My, haven’t you grown into your role. I wonder if that will always be the case.”

“Leave,” I command, “before the good citizens of this place decide you are all better dead than alive.”

The soldier’s eyes flash as he dips his head. “Until next time, enchantress.”

The lot of soldiers turns, their movements robotic.

“Oh, one last thing—” I say to their backs, “you will not harm another fae. Ever.”

You know what the most annoying thing about these drop-ins is? There always has to be some long discussion following them. Everyone has to regroup and decide on a plan of action when there is really no way to plan for a man like the Thief of Souls. He doesn’t play by the book, it’s not clear what he wants, and there seems to be no orderly way for us to stop him.

But I sit through the meeting anyway, and listen to everyone rehash the last several hours all over again. Once the meeting is over, it’s clear that Des and Malaki have more to talk about, the two of them moving to a corner of the room, where they continue speaking in low voices.

I turn to Temper. “Down to raid the kitchen?”

Need a drink after that meeting.

“Do you really have to ask?”

Fifteen minutes later the two of us are sitting in some random hallway, munching on a tray of pastries and drinking fae spirits straight from the bottle.

“It’s been too long since we’ve done this,” I say,

It used to be a weekly thing. We’d go out, or we’d stay in, but it would always be together. Sleepovers, brunches, late night movie-nights, bar-hopping, clubbing—we were attached at the hip.

“You can say that again.” Temper sighs. “That alone is reason enough to kill the Thief of Souls. He’s messing with our routine.”

I take a big bite of a cheese-filled pastry, washing it down with a swig of fae wine.

I pull the bottle away and stare at it. “Ever notice that fairies make their liquor way too sweet?”

“Right?” Temper says. “Never thought I’d crave cheap Scotch so much in my life, but here we are.”

I turn to her. “Thanks for earlier—you know, with Malaki.”

“Anytime. You know how we roll.”

We’ve been each other’s wingwoman for as long as we can remember.

I set the bottle down and reach out, taking Temper’s hand. “God, I love you.”

“Are you drunk? You are such a lightweight.”

“Seriously, Temper?” That’s her response to me pledging my love to her? “You ingrate. I’m not drunk.”

She squeezes my hand. “Love you too, boo, even if you go to Earth and do body shots without me.”

“Hey, I invited you to the wedding.”

“Only ’cause you needed an ordained minister.”

She and I both know that’s not the only reason.

“How did you even manage to get ordained?” If anyone should’ve been rejected, it probably should have been Temper. I mean, I love my friend, but she’s not exactly a saint.

“Fuck if I know—the Internet is a magical thing.”

The two of us look at each other and burst into laughter.

It’s Temper’s turn to grab the wine bottle and throw it back. “You know, for all the battles being fought in the Otherworld, I’ve had hardly any chances to zap someone.”

My mood darkens as my thoughts return to the Thief. “I’m sure your day will come.”

“Oh, I know it will. That’s why I’ve been hanging around this place. Love me a good fight.”

I give her a look.

“What?” Temper asks accusingly.

“You are such a ballsy liar.”

She sucks in a breath. “Who are you calling—?”

“You’re not here for some fight,” I say, talking over her. “You’re not even here because I am, though I know you love me. You’re here because you like shacking up with Malaki,” I say, cutting her off.

For a moment, Temper doesn’t respond, regrouping to gather her thoughts.

“I’m here because I want a fight,” she finally says, “and my best friend happens to be a queen. Malaki is a perk of the situation.”

Yeah, I’m not buying it.

“I’m going to hex that look off your face.”

“I’ll stop you first,” I say, my skin brightening.

“Nice try,” Temper says. “Your glamour no longer works on humans.” She sounds so certain of that fact, like she knows the effects of the lilac wine better than I do.

“Does it now?” I say, letting my magic fill my voice.

Temper’s gaze briefly goes hazy before it clears.

“Oh, you bad bitch,” she says, starting to chuckle. She takes another drink of the wine, shaking her head. “You can glamour humans and fairies?”

I lift a shoulder. “Seems that way.”

Only the Thief appears to be immune to my charms, which is unfortunate, considering he’s the one I’ll probably need to use them on.

“Lady, you better watch your back,” I say. “Malaki gets that possessive look when he sees you,” I say.

And he’s annoyingly bossy, I’ve come to find.

Temper fans herself. “I know, isn’t it fucking hot?”

Uh, that’s one way of looking at it.

“Temper, he’s Des’s best friend. If you break his heart, shit is going to get awkward.” I mean, I got a taste of Malaki when he’s peeved; forgive me if I don’t want to see what he’s like when he’s heartbroken.

“Bitch, who said anything about me breaking his heart? I’m more interested in breaking his bed.”

She’s not considering breaking up with him? This far into a fling Temper is always considering breaking things off.

I turn to give her my full attention. “What is going on between you two?”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I laugh. “Oh my God, don’t hold out on me now.”

“You don’t want me to hold out on you? You’re the one who’s more secretive than your husband lately—and ugh, can we talk about the fact that you’re married now? You’re all domestic and old.”

“I’m not old. And stop changing the subject,” I say. Gah, she’s hard to pin down when she wants to be.

“How about we talk about the fact that the Thief of Souls wants to bone you?”

“Let’s not.” I can feel a shudder coming on.

“I mean, you could just give in and knock boots with the baddie.”

“Temper.” Seriously?

“Yeah, you’re right,” she says. “That’s too evil.”

“Also, I’m married—and mated—and in love,” I say slowly. “Let’s not forget that either.”

“Right, right, right.” She takes another swig of the fae wine. A laugh slips out of her, and that’s about when I realize she’s teasing me.

I release my breath. “You’re the worst.”

“Suck it, Lillis. I’m the best and everyone knows it.”

The air wavers in front of us, and then Des is there, an eyebrow raised as he stares down at us. “So this is why there’s a pastry shortage in the kitchen.”

I inconspicuously dust crumbs off my chest. Temper, meanwhile, licks her fingers.

“Not my fault your kitchen’s understocked,” she says, the sass thick in her throat.

Des’s eyes flick to her. “Malaki is looking for you.”

“Is he now?” Temper says, her interest piqued. She gets up, grabbing the tray of pastries, the bottle of wine still in her clutches. “Then I better go find him … Peace out, Callie.” She salutes me with the peace sign, then heads off down the hall, her heels clicking.

Des turns his attention to me. “Wife.” His eyes are burning. “We have some unfinished business.”