A Strange Hymn by Laura Thalassa

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 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.

“Are you alright?” the Green Man says, his eyes bright with excitement rather than concern.

As if he’s unaware of the effect his words have on me.

My eyes search the crowd, falling on Des, whose back is to me. He’s the one I should really talk about this with, but he’s trapped in discussions, and more importantly, I don’t really want to have that talk.

Temper swoops in then. “Back the fuck up, Green Man, the queen needs more wine.”

Before either me or the Green Man have a chance to react, Temper slides her arm through mine and forcefully escorts me away.

“Jesus, I love you,” I say.

“Black Jesus loves you too, you crazy skank.” She bumps my hip with her own.

“I need to get out of here,” I say, not bothering to comment on the fact that Temper has a healthy glow to her, or that her hair is a little sex-shaken.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, eyeing me up and down. “You look like you accidently saw your grandparents getting it on.”

I swallow. “I’ll tell you, just—” I glance around us at all the fairies crowding the room. Dropping my voice, I say, “not here.”

She purses her lips, eyeing me again, but nods.

We’re just about to the door when I hear Mara’s voice.

“Callie!”

I close my eyes.

We nearly made it.

“Wanna just pretend we didn’t hear that?” Temper asks.

“Callie!” Mara calls again, more insistent this time.

I sigh and shake my head.

The two of us turn. The Queen of Flora is no longer on the dance floor, instead drinking a refreshment from where I stood a moment ago with the Green Man, who is now no longer in sight.

“You must come here.” She beckons me over, her crowd of men eyeing me curiously.

“Have I mentioned that I don’t fucking like that woman?” Temper says next to me. “Look at that smug-ass smile. She looks like the kind of bitch that befriends you just so she can steal your boyfriend.”

This is precisely why Temper and I are friends. The girl gets it.

“Ugh, I should probably go over,” I say.

Being mates with a fae king has its drawbacks. I’d spent my teen years being a wallflower and the years following that making people forget they’d run into me. But now, being a fae king’s mate, I’m as far from anonymous as I can be.

Temper dips her finger into her wine, stirring it contemplatively. It’s a look she gets right about the time she’s concocting a spell. “If she pisses you off, give me a signal, and I’ll rescue you again, no questions asked.”

I nod. “Thanks for having my back, T.”

“Anytime—oh, and later I want to hear what you were about to tell me,” she says as she backs away.

I swallow uncomfortably, the Green Man’s conversation bubbling back up.

I could be pregnant.

I nod and part ways with Temper, taking a deep breath as I head over to Mara, who’s giggling with her harem. Her gaze moves to me, and her eyes sharpen.

“So, tell me,” she says, “how did you and Desmond meet?”

I glance around at the men watching us. Everyone looks so goddamn predatory. This is exactly why I wanted to stay far, far away from the Otherworld in the first place. These people will eat you alive.

She sees where my attention is. “Don’t worry about them. Now, I’ve been dying to hear this story.”

I have a knee jerk reaction to lie, as I have in the past when it comes to how Des and I met, but before I can, I reassess my audience.

You know what? Why not give them the truth?

“The first time I met the King of the Night was the evening I killed my father. He helped me hide the body.”

For a moment, no one speaks.

And then, one of the men begins to laugh. One by one, the rest join in. Even Mara cracks a smile.

“What have I told you about humans?” one of the men says to another, “They are vicious little things when they want to be.”

I frown at the man before the Queen of Flora drags my attention away.

“My, my,” she says, “how much you and Desmond have in common. No wonder he’s so smitten with you. A woman after his own heart.”

I furrow my brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She waves the conversation off, taking another sip of her drink. “That’s not my story to tell. But, speaking of stories, I imagine you have quite the tale to tell from your time with Karnon.”

Yeah, that’s not exactly a tale I want to share during cocktail hour at the Flora Queen’s palace.

“It must’ve been a shock,” she says when I don’t respond, “coming here to the Otherworld—and being kidnapped no less! I can’t imagine being trapped in Karnon’s palace. That awful place had long since gone to seed by the time you arrived.”

Bones breaking, blood dripping, endless agony.

I give her a tight smile.

She leans forward. “I hear Desmond arrived just in time. It seems uncanny almost. I wonder how he found you so quickly …”

I narrow my eyes at her, seeing exactly what she’s getting at. Had I not talked to Des about this earlier, her words would worm their way under my skin.

She lightly touches my arm. “Well, it’s no matter now. You’re safe, and thanks to those wings of yours, Desmond has ensured that you cannot leave his side to return to earth.”

As soon as that last sentence registers, my heart seems to skip a beat.

Thanks to those wings of yours, Desmond has ensured that you cannot leave his side …

“… Callypso?” Mara’s voice echoes, as though from a distance.

I blink several times, the Flora Queen’s face coming into focus. Her expression is pinched with concern, though I know it’s all an act. Just like the casual way she managed to plant those bits of doubt in my mind.

“Are you alright?” she asks, reaching for my arm.

And then Des’s words up on the treetop return to me. How, despite our weak connection, he felt my need and my pain through our bond. That my agony at the hands of Karnon had to be as intense as it was for the Bargainer to sense my distress and, through it, my location.

That was how Des found me when he did. Not because he wanted to keep me here in the Otherworld like some caged bird. He doesn’t think like that, even if the Flora Queen does.

The moment Mara’s fingers touch my elbow, I jerk it out of her reach.

Around us I hear a few muffled gasps from fairies who must’ve caught sight of the action. Apparently not letting a queen touch you is some sort of faux pas.

“You’re wrong.” I take a step back. I can feel my wings ruffling in agitation. “So, so wrong.”

I need to get away from these creatures, with their fake smiles and duplicitous words.

“Wait, I hope I didn’t upset you,” she says.

A lie.

“I called you over because I’ve been meaning to give you a gift in honor of your bond to the King of the Night.”

I feel the first tendrils of apprehension. I’ve learned from Des that when it comes to gifts from fairies, there are always strings attached.

The Flora Queen’s harem presses in around me, boxing me in while Mara gestures to someone over her shoulder.

A human servant weaves through the throng of guests carrying a silver tray. Resting on it is a delicate metal wine glass filled with light purple liquid. She stops at the queen’s side.

Carefully, Mara removes it from the tray. “Do you know what this is?” she asks.

I shake my head, bewildered by this newest turn of events.

“I would’ve thought that perhaps … but never mind.” She hands me the goblet, and it’s only as she does so that it clicks. This is her gift—whatever this actually is.

Reluctantly I take the silver cup, staring down at the liquid with a slight grimace on my mouth.

When I don’t take any further action, some of Mara’s men laugh at me like I’m a simpleton. To receive a drink but not to taste it!

“You must try it,” the Flora Queen insists.

There’s no way in hell I’m going to try it. Not a drink given to me by this broad.

Before I can commit some further faux pas, the air shifts and the shadows deepen. Everyone else must feel it too because conversations become hushed.

And then out of the shadows, Des appears, as though from a dream. He’s light and darkness, from the shadows that curl around him to the moonbeams that seem to illuminate him from within.

Fairies step out of his way, making an aisle of sorts for him to stride down. Silently he heads for me, his white hair brushed away from his face, his jaw firm. Just like the first time I saw him, he takes my breath away.

“What is this I hear of a gift?” he says when he reaches our group.

He gently takes the delicate chalice from my hand. “Is this it?” he asks, pacing several feet away, his eyebrows raised.

He brings the glass to his nose.

“Lilac wine,” he says.

Several people throughout the room gasp.

He gives Mara an approving smile. “Cunning as ever, dear queen.”

Ever so deliberately, he overturns the liquid, letting it spill onto the floor as he paces.

The room goes utterly silent.

I glance from person to person, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“You trod on my hospitality?” she says, an edge entering her voice.

“Perhaps you should think twice before you try to con my mate. Someone could get the wrong idea,” Des says, looking remorseless.

I knew something was up with that drink.

Now Mara smiles. “And perhaps you should explain to your human mate why you refuse this most sacred and arcane of lovers’ rights. Or why she will die a mortal when she could’ve lived at your side for eons.”