Текст книги "The demons queen"

Автор книги: Katee Robert

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CHAPTER 3

AZAZEL

“What have you done?”

I don’t look up as I carefully lay Eve on the bed. The room is nearly identical to those of the other human women I’ve made contracts with in the last few days. It’s not what I would have chosen for Eve if circumstances were different . . . but circumstances aren’t different.

She won’t wake up for some time yet. A blessing, I suppose, since there’s going to be hell to pay once she realizes all the ways I’ve lied to her.

“Azazel.”

I finally look at Ramanu. They’re one of the best bargainers I have, and unlike so many others in my court, they’re not afraid of me. They stand with their hands planted on their hips, and if they had eyes, no doubt they would be narrowed. Instead of the customary single set of horns most bargainers have, Ramanu has two. The second, smaller, set curves out from where their eye sockets would be.

That doesn’t stop them from seeing far too much.

They frown. “Tell me this isn’t the human you’ve been sneaking off to play with for years.”

As leader of the bargainers—king, if I’m being honest—I’ve learned to lie, cheat, steal, and even kill in the pursuit of bettering my people’s lives. But I don’t lie to Ramanu now. “This is Eve.”

She stirs a little when I say her name, and I can’t help turning back to her. Gods, she’s beautiful. Long blond hair, full lips, a soft body filled with curves that I’ve spent hours exploring.

“Azazel,” Ramanu hisses. “You’re endangering the plans that have been so long in the making. The territory leaders will be here tomorrow. You need to be focused.”

They’re right, but that doesn’t change the fact I had no choice. The alternative was too horrible to bear. “I have it under control.” It takes more effort than I will ever admit to turn away from the bed and walk past Ramanu to the door.

They follow, nearly stepping on my heels in the process. “You have one more bargain to make. You’re cutting it close. If any of the leaders think you’re hiding a human from them, they’re going to start asking questions—or thinking the others are subpar options.”

Which would put the four remaining women in danger.

“That won’t be a problem.” I shake my head sharply. “Belladonna is primed to say yes.”

“Again, that doesn’t change the presence of your blonde.”

I feel like I’m free-falling, but when has that stopped me from forward momentum? For peace in this realm, I’ve allowed myself to become a monster in so many ways. To hurt the one person I meant to keep separate. “Eve will participate in the auction.”

“Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” Ramanu throws up their hands, their frustration coating the hallway. “You certainly won’t go on a fucking rampage when someone else chooses her, unraveling all the work you’ve put in for peace in this realm.”

They’re doing what a good second-in-command does and pointing out the flaws in my admittedly impulsive plan, but I still want to grab them by the throat and slam them into the wall. My predecessor would have; she ruled through terror as much as anything else. I’ve chosen a different path. Unfortunately, choosing a different path didn’t banish the violent impulses I was forced to develop to stay alive in Caesarea’s court.

My aunt was a monster. No one else was willing to step in to stop her, so the task fell to me.

“I will not do anything to endanger the auction, but I can’t risk her presence causing questions, or anyone realizing how . . . special . . . she is to me.”

Ramanu snorts. “And you give me grief for my fascination with that murderous little witch.”

I start walking down the hall, and they fall into easy step next to me. “Your murderous little witch is a murderous witch. If you can secure a bargain with her, then she’ll be an excellent addition to the court. But that’s a rather large if, Ramanu.”

They grin, quick and wicked. “I have my ways.” Their smile fades far too quickly. “Why now, Azazel? You could have waited a week and the rest of them would’ve been too busy with their new humans to wonder what you’re up to. You’re a bargainer; of course you’d continue making deals.”

I push open the massive wooden door at the end of the hallway and hold it for them. “The situation with my cousin has escalated. I got word today that he’s aware of her.”

Ramanu curses under their breath. “That’s unfortunate.”

“So you see, I didn’t have a choice.” In another week on her own, Eve would’ve been dead.

EVE

I wake up in an instant but keep my eyes closed as I listen to Azazel talk to someone with a light and melodious voice . . . Ramanu. It’s sheer habit to keep my body relaxed and my breathing even. My mind, though? It’s racing.

The bed I’m lying on is unfamiliar. I can’t hear Azazel’s footsteps, so the room must have carpet instead of the marble floors of the hotel suite. More than that, the very air feels different. It takes several slow inhales before I fully register the . . . I don’t know how to explain it. Hotel air has a definitive feel, sterile and a little off from a home. The air isn’t humid, but I can’t feel it actively leeching the moisture from my skin. And there’s a faint scent in the air, something layered in the way of old houses. This is a room that’s been lived in.

It adds up to one horrifying realization: That motherfucker kidnapped me.

I can barely register their words, can barely think past the screaming in my head. It’s everything I can do to lie there and pretend to still be unconscious as Azazel and the other person leave and close the door softly behind them. Even then, I make myself count to one hundred slowly to ensure they’re gone.

No one returns in the intervening time, so I slowly open my eyes with the intention of scanning my room for cameras—and a way out.

I lie on a massive four-poster bed, each post thick dark wood with carvings winding up its height. The comforter is thick and looks handmade. I drift my fingers over its surface, hating that I find the texture pleasing.

There’s no point in playing possum any longer. I sit up slowly and take in the rest of the space. A large wardrobe hunches in the corner, big enough to hide three bodies. A doorway leads into what appears to be a bathroom. The door Azazel left through is massive, easily eight feet tall and twice the width of normal doors.

And there’s a window.

That gets me moving. If I can escape, I can flee and try to find a gas station or maybe another house close by and beg a phone call. No matter where Azazel’s taken me, Pope will retrieve me. They’ll come up with a plan that will see me home and safe. I just need to get out.

I rush to the window—an ornate curved thing that looks like it belongs in a castle—and freeze.

There’s no glass, which should have been my first clue that something is wrong. The second is that we’re not on the ground floor. In fact, we’re so high up that I can see the entire city sprawled out at the base of my tower.

A city I’ve never seen before.

“No, no, don’t panic. There are plenty of places in the world you haven’t visited. This is just . . .” There are mountains in the distance, the massive peaks a deep blue-purple that hardly looks real. But that’s not what has panic threatening to short out my thoughts.

No, that dubious privilege goes to the creature flying through the bright-blue sky in the distance. I almost convince myself it’s some kind of predatory bird, but as it swoops down and then up again, appearing to ride the air currents, I have to admit what I’m seeing.

A person with crimson skin and large bat-like wings.

A fucking monster.

“This is not happening.” Speaking aloud doesn’t snap me out of the vision I’m trapped in. The creature in the distance continues to fly and spin, as graceful as any predatory bird I’ve ever seen. “Drugs. It has to be drugs.”

But I don’t feel high. I’ve dabbled in more than my fair share of mind-altering substances in my ill-spent youth, and there’s a distinct feel to each of them. For a drug to make me hallucinate this, I should be feeling some other effects. I’m not.

A second monster joins the first, though this one appears to have a specific destination in mind, rather than the pure entertainment of being in the air. I rub my eyes—hard—but nothing changes when the dancing spots clear. “Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown. Something snapped.” Except my mind feels fine. I’m scared. I’m angry. I’m one sharp breath from panicking. All those sensations are familiar to me, even if this situation is far more dire than any I’ve encountered to date.

Someone knocks on my door, light and polite but also clearly not intending to be ignored. I sigh. “I don’t know why you’re knocking. It’s not like I can say no.”

The monster that emerges through the door is like nothing I’ve ever seen or imagined. Humanoid for the most part, but with the same deep-crimson skin as the flying one I just saw. It’s their face that stops me short. They have two sets of horns, one seeming to replace where humans have eyes.

What the fuck?

“I’m Ramanu. They/them.” They step into the room and close the door. They’re wearing a black tunic-type garment that reaches their midthighs and little else aside from black sandals that lace up their muscular calves. “I’m sure you have questions.”

Only half a million. I don’t know whether to treat this as if it’s all normal and fine or start screaming and never stop. “What did Azazel drug me with?”

They lean against the door and cross their arms over their chest. “No drugs. No hallucinations. Your mind hasn’t broken. Azazel brought you to the demon realm.”

“Of course. I’m not drugged or losing my mind; I’m in hell.” I choke out a laugh. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Not that Christian self-recrimination circle jerk.” They wave that away. “I realize this is a lot for a nonmagical human to process, but there are countless realms in existence. Once upon a time, they were cozy and close.” They press their palms together. “But a millenium ago, some kind of catastrophic event happened to scatter them.” They yank their hands violently apart. “These days, unless you go through Threshold—which I don’t recommend—only a handful of beings can traverse realms. Like the bargainers.” They point one clawed finger at themself. “My people have a long and storied history of coming to your realm and making bargains.”

It’s too much to process. This is impossible. It should be impossible. I close my eyes and force myself to just . . . accept. I can keep screaming internally that this is all the trick of a traumatized brain, but in the event it’s not, I’ll be at even more of a disadvantage if I keep resisting the truth that’s right in front of me.

Bargains.

I open my eyes. “Bargains as in contracts.”

“Bargains as in contracts,” Ramanu agrees. “I won’t pretend I understand what drove Azazel to change his plans, but rest assured that you’re safe. Even if he weren’t essentially king, these days no one in this city would dare abuse or threaten a human. Bargains are sacred to our people. Humans are to be protected.”

If I assume this is all real, then I need to start plotting. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes and try to think. Azazel had me sign a contract. If Ramanu is to be believed, that contract is the reason he was able to bring me here. To go home, I just need to do those steps in reverse. “How does one cancel a contract—or a bargain, I guess?”

Ramanu grins. “It would have to be mutually agreed upon.”

Something that won’t happen, given how much effort Azazel went through to trick me and bring me here. “Oh.”

“Of course,” they say silkily, “there are other ways. If the terms of the contract are violated—in your favor, of course—then it’s null and void. The bargainer will be forced to fulfill their side of the deal and return you to your realm.”

My mind trips over their words. I read that contract fully. “There’s nothing in there about him giving me something. And when would it even come into play? The terms were for a lifetime.”

If I weren’t watching Ramanu so closely, I would miss the way their jaw drops. They recover quickly but not quickly enough.

I narrow my eyes. “That’s not standard procedure, then.”

They push off the door and shift their hands to their hips, a flirty position that does nothing to mask the fact that they’re fidgeting. “You must be tired.”

“I’m really not.” I watch them closely. A good part of my profession is reading people, and while Ramanu may not share all the features of a human, they’re not doing a good job of masking their emotions right now. “Those terms are abnormal, aren’t they?”

They clear their throat. “There will be an event tomorrow night that requires your attendance. Please avail yourself to the wardrobe.” They reach back for the doorknob. “In the meantime, you should rest. Food will be brought to your room and cleared when you’re finished with it.”

They’re going to leave before giving me any answers. I start to slide off the bed. “What kind of event?”

“An auction, though not a traditional one. It may seem frightening, but have no fear. Azazel won’t allow anyone to touch you. You’re safe here.” Then they’re gone and the door has closed softly behind them.

What the fuck just happened?

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CHAPTER 4

AZAZEL

Today has been in the making from the moment I took over leadership of the bargainer demons, wresting it away from Caesarea once and for all. My aunt was content to drive us to ruin for the sake of her entertainment and bloodlust. Our realm is too damn small to be embroiled in a constant state of war. Whole populations have been decimated in service to her ambition. Whole generations—mine, notably—bear the scars that only war can bring.

I’ve vowed to go a different way. One where peace reigns. One where bargainers don’t have the market cornered on power. It’s been too many generations since humans and the people of this realm mingled freely. In a world where each territory takes its strength from the magic of its leader, everyone except us has been in a steady decline for far too long.

Just how Caesarea preferred it.

Today changes that, once and for all. I’ve worked exceedingly hard to create enough trust with the other territory leaders that they were willing to come here and accept my offer. And now it’s happening.

Having Eve on the stage was never part of the plan.

I don’t have a choice, though. Ramanu was right when they pointed out that any appearance of dishonesty will undermine the entire operation. Eve has to join the others, and I have to ensure no other leader chooses her. It’s a mess of my own making, but even with the way time moves differently between realms, there was no guarantee that leaving Eve alone for another day wouldn’t result in her death.

Brosh has spent a decade being a mere voice of discontent. I underestimated him, sure that he’d never escalate. To discover that not only had he found Eve, but he had plans to kill her? I shudder. I hadn’t stopped to think. I needed her safe, and now she is. No matter what the cost ends up being, it’s more than worth it as long as she remains among the living.

Still, there’s the event to deal with. I do my best to focus as I pull Rusalka—the succubi and incubi leader—aside the moment they arrive and explain what I need from them. I’m concerned about one of the humans in the group tonight, and while I think we have the most peace-minded leaders in the realm possible, I’m not willing to sacrifice the human women on the altar of peace. There’s a way forward for all of us; it just requires some careful maneuvering.

Once I have her agreement, it’s time for the others. Thane from the krakens’ territory. Bram from the gargoyles’. Sol, the dragon king. They’re all smart people. They understand what I’m offering them immediately, even if they don’t trust it entirely. That’s fine. Better to ensure they take the offered truce with care.

The human women stand on a short dais in the front of the room, each in a different color of dress, watching us with wide eyes. Belladonna, Briar, Catalina, Grace . . . and Eve. I watch Eve’s eyes go wider as she takes in Thane’s tentacles, Bram’s wings, Rusalka’s hooves, and . . . Well, Sol. When her gaze lands on me, it’s everything I can do to keep my expression composed as if I don’t know her. She’s never seen me in this form, and since she has plenty of cause to hate me currently, I thought it best to avoid a conversation until the rest of my business today is conducted.

I turn back to the leaders. “Let’s begin.”

Rusalka shifts forward, her eyes flaring crimson. “Red.” Belladonna, just as we agreed upon previously.

I turn my attention to the others, waiting with my heart in my throat.

Bram rumbles a little, his wings flaring, but he finally shrugs as if fighting me even this much is too great an effort. “They’re all the same to me. Purple.”

Thank the gods. That was easier than I expected. “Very well.” I force a sharp grin and turn to the two remaining leaders.

“Blue.” Thane moves in his pool, tentacles shifting over one another beneath the water. The ones on his head—where the humans have hair—are mostly behaving, though there’s a nod to his tension in the way they slither over his shoulders, moving in a wind that doesn’t exist.

Now, there’s only Sol remaining. The dragon considers me for a long moment, and I can practically see him weighing whether it’s worth challenging me over the fact that he truly has no choice. “White.” It’s a good pairing. Sol is honorable to a fault, and Briar’s soul is bruised from the abuse of her now-dead husband. He’ll take great care with her, which is all I can ask for.

“Perfect.” I clap my hands together, signaling for the light to go up. “Let’s get these contracts taken care of.”

It takes hours, despite everyone being eager to take their respective human and retreat to their territory. We have a good set of leaders in this generation. Even Thane and Bram, carrying so much loss that it threatens to crush them, are fair, if not kind. Sol is a teddy bear, as Ramanu is so fond of saying. Rusalka is a leader I respect deeply, and we already discussed my concerns over her human, Belladonna, not advocating for herself. There is no reason for the stress wrapping around my spine and threatening to crush me.

I am particular about who I offer contracts to. I have been even before becoming territory leader. Yes, a bargainer’s power grows with each bargain signed and sealed, but offering one means taking responsibility for another person’s well-being. Since becoming leader, I’ve only made one deal and it went badly. In the wake of that it was easier to make no deals at all. I had a whole territory to worry about, and adding more to my plate—even if resulted in more power—was too much to ask for.

Until now.

Creating five bargains and sending four of the humans involved off to live outside my domain and outside my control . . . I clench my fists. They’ll be fine. According to the contracts each of the leaders signed, they will default their territories to me if their human is harmed.

If I thought any of the other leaders would be careless with their prizes, I never would have made this offer. I can’t say they are all good matches, based on what I know of both the humans involved and the leaders, but hopefully things will fall out for the best.

As the last pair files out, heading for the portal that will transport them back to their home, I don’t have an excuse for avoiding Eve any longer.

I sigh and head for her room, where she was escorted back after the others were chosen. I trail my hand along the stone wall. “Keep an eye on her, please. She’s liable to get into trouble on her own.”

The castle isn’t technically sentient, but it’s close enough, so it’s a good idea to be polite and ask for what I want instead of demand it. Whichever leader in generations long past imbued the building with magic to shift and mold at will, I don’t think they intended the place to end up with a will of its own. But magic and time have a way of playing with even the clearest of intent.

Case in point, it should be a five-minute walk to reach Eve’s room. The castle must sense my reluctance, because it takes me fifteen to reach her door.

I pause. There’s no avoiding this forever, and the longer I put it off, the worse it will be. I lied to her. I tricked her. And now I’m going to reveal myself to be a monster to her human eyes. I have enough magic that I could draw my human glamor around me, but it’s difficult in this realm, and more importantly, it would only extend the lie.

I have her for a lifetime, and if she hates me for the entirety of it, at least she’ll be alive to hate.

With one last aborted sigh, I knock firmly on the door. It cracks open immediately, the castle allowing me entry before Eve has a chance to decide for herself. When I don’t immediately push the door open, it creaks wider on its own.

“Not helping,” I mutter.

And then she’s there, standing before me in her yellow dress, her dark eyes stony. “I’m overstimulated and not in the mood. Leave me alone.”

“Eve.”

It’s agony to watch the expressions that play across her face. Shock, fear, uncertainty. She buttons it all up in seconds, but it’s clear that she recognizes my voice, and it’s equally clear that she doesn’t know what to think of me in this form.

She clears her throat. “Azazel? I thought you sounded familiar in the other room, but . . .”

But I look nothing like the man she’s known for years. “I’m sorry for how things occurred. You’re safe here.” Necessary words, for all that they feel inadequate.

She blinks, her uncertainty melting away to reveal pure rage. “You kidnapped me.”

“You signed the contract.” I register that it’s the wrong thing to say immediately and hold up my hands. “I understand that⁠—”

“I signed a contract you led me to believe was role-play!” She clenches her fists. “Did you kidnap the others too? Did you fuck them before they signed their lives away? And now you sold them. You’re a monster.” She flicks a derisive glance over my body, for all that I tower over her in my true form. “And it has nothing to do with how you look.”

I flinch. I can’t help it. “I haven’t fucked anyone but you in years.” I don’t intend to speak that truth, but it lands in the space between us. I watch her discard my words as lies, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because I did lie to her.

Just not about this.

“Even if that were true, what do you want? A cookie?” With every word, she draws her composure tighter around herself, closing me out. “I am not, and never was, your girlfriend. You were a client.”

It’s the truth. There’s no reason for it to sting. I’m no lovestruck fool to think that she shares my feelings, no matter how much she seemed to enjoy our time together. I clear my throat. “And I didn’t sell the others. The contracts were renegotiated.”

“Renegotiated.” She snorts. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say.” She crosses her arms under her generous chest. “Are we done? Being in your presence is making me sick to my stomach.”

I want to roar my frustration, but I haven’t gotten to where I am today by letting my anger flare outward. Control is everything, and control is all I currently have to help me deal with Eve. I take a measured step back. “You’re free to explore the castle as you like. No one here will harm you.”

She narrows her eyes. “And if I want to leave?”

“You’ll find the doors locked to you.” I open my mouth to continue, to explain that it’s not safe, even in this territory, that I have enemies who don’t like the changes I’ve made, that those enemies are more than eager to take advantage of any perceived weakness, that she is my only perceived weakness . . .

But Eve slams the door in my face before I can get a word out.

I sigh. “Fuck.”

EVE

I strip out of the yellow gown and dig through the wardrobe until I come up with clothing better suited to my needs. My mind still whirls with everything I’ve seen since yesterday. Monsters of every variety and yet still seeming so human seeming. Women handed over to them without a single hesitation. And . . . Azazel.

I pause, my hands on the buttons of my gown. He lied to me in so many ways. The contract, his history, even his appearance. Because the . . . being . . . who came to my door just now is the very same one who presided over the auction. He was tall as a human, but now he’s got to be more than seven feet, and his shoulders explain why the doors here are so wide: any narrower and he’d have to go through them sideways. His skin is several shades darker than Ramanu’s, and his horns are downright majestic, jutting from either side of his bald head and up. He’s even handsome in a rough-cut way, though I’m not currently in the mood to admit it.

But for all that, his eyes are the same: a deep brown that veers close to black even in the bright light. Filled with too many things when he looks at me.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.” I can’t stay here, but I’ve seen enough today to understand that I’m out of my element in a way that’s almost laughable.

So, first order of business—gather information and see if there are allies to exploit. Judging by how things went earlier, Azazel is something of a king here. That complicates things, because I can’t go over his head to someone more powerful. Still, there are other ways. There are always other ways.

I drop the dress on the ground and pull out another dress, one shorter and easier to move in. Just like the first—and all the others I tried on—it fits me perfectly.

It’s enough to make me wonder how long Azazel has been planning this: to trick me, to take me away from everything I’ve ever known. He may have seemed tormented when we spoke just now, but I don’t care about his feelings currently. I could shove him out a window with how furious I am.

I yank on a pair of shoes—another perfect fit—and march to the door. He said I have free rein of the castle, but we’ll see. I try the door and am actually surprised when the handle twists easily in my hand.

The hallway looks different from the last time I stepped out of my room, when I joined the other women also being herded to the auction. I frown and peer around. There are no doors lining the walls here, and the hall turns in a sharp right angle instead of ending in a door. “What the fuck?”

It’s possible I am misremembering things in the chaos or I somehow ended up in a different room than the one I started in . . . but I don’t think so. I press my fingers to the wall. It’s solid, not some magical illusion.

Funny that my mind hardly stumbles over the idea of magic and monsters, but what am I supposed to do? From the moment I woke up, evidence of both has been shoved in my face. Either I’m in a coma and dreaming all this . . . or monsters are real and so are magical bargains and the whole lot.

I pick a direction at random and start walking. The stone underfoot is polished to a gleam but not slippery in the least. The walls are equally polished and bare except for sconces that must be magic because their flames give off no heat or scent. Neat trick.

I’m not really thinking about my path, just taking the only route available to me—left, left, right, left again, right, right, right—until my legs start to ache. Only then do I frown and look around. I haven’t seen a single door or staircase. “What kind of building plan is this?”

It doesn’t make any sense. No builder would make a hallway like this. I’m hardly an expert at architecture and the like, but hallways exist for a purpose—to transition from one space to another. Often from one place to several others. To have one so long and strange without a single exit defies belief.

Magic, again. It has to be.

While glaring at the hallway, I press my fingers to the wall. Surely there’s some illusion in place hiding alternate paths from me. I just have to figure out the trick. “I want to find the kitchen, damn it.” With my hand dragging lightly along the wall, I set off walking again.

Except when I turn the next corner, I find a familiar door with a covered tray in front of it. Somehow, despite all logic, I’m back at my room again.

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