Текст книги "The demons queen"

Автор книги: Katee Robert

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

CHAPTER 13

EVE

Ithought waking up in Azazel’s bed alone was the worst feeling. I was wrong. Waking up next to him is. The hangover doesn’t help—my head is filled with throbbing razor blades—but it’s the steady sound of his breathing that has me fighting not to scramble away.

Maybe it would have been less horrible if he were touching me, if I could explain away my reaction as anything other than emotional. Instead, he’s a perfectly polite distance away, stretched out on his stomach, his face tucked against the bend of his arm. What little I can see of his expression is perfectly relaxed.

He looks like an entirely different person.

The temptation to reach out and run my hand over his muscular back is nearly overwhelming. That way lies danger, and I want to pretend I’m too wary to fall into the trap of caring for him, but yesterday more than proves me a liar.

It would be so easy to simply . . . give in. To let his presence seduce me as thoroughly as his touch has. To let him protect me, cage me, set me up in this new life so far from my normal one. To be whisked away by him choosing me. That’s how magnetic he is, how much I still want him despite my anger.

“You’re staring,” he says without opening his eyes.

The urge to bolt from the bed rises, but I can’t quite work up the energy. I roll onto my side and pull his soft comforter up to my chin. The move reminds me that I’m still wearing the dress from last night, which is absolutely absurd. Azazel has had his mouth all over every inch of me, but he apparently drew the line at changing my clothing while I was drunk and passing out. I don’t want that realization to make me like him more. I truly don’t.

“Why?”

He cracks open one eye. “Why what?”

“Why has Brosh decided that killing me is the answer? If he doesn’t like how things are going in the territory, why not try to take it for himself?” Asking the question is dangerous. I’m already buckling for him without understanding his motives. I still want to know.

He’s quiet for long enough that I think he won’t answer. Finally, Azazel sighs. “For the same reason I haven’t killed him—even if I could find him. He’s my cousin. No matter how much he hates me, if he kills me in cold blood, he’ll turn the majority of our family—and we have extensive numbers in very powerful positions—against him. He’s not confident he can take me in a duel, so instead he’s going after you to hurt me.”

I blink. Of all the explanations, family didn’t even occur to me. “But what is so bad about what you’re doing that he wants to hurt you so desperately? Your people seem happy enough.”

“It comes down to power. The result of the people of this realm mingling with humans a long time again was children who possessed significantly more magic than their nonhuman parents. My realm is one of magic. It’s in every breath you inhale, the food you eat, the ground beneath your feet. But the strength of each territory, drawn into place so long ago that no one remembers how our ancestors did it, comes directly from the strength of the leader. The more magic the territory leader has, the more their people benefit.”

What he’s saying sounds like something out of a storybook, but I’m long past the point of disbelief. “I’m following you so far.”

“When the realms split, that intermingling stopped. The only people who could jump to your realm were bargainers, and even then, only the most powerful could do it regularly. As generations passed, the magic in the other territories in this realm has faltered. It’s not gone, but it’s significantly decreased . . . while the bargainer territory has remained strong.”

Easy enough to draw conclusions from there. “So you’ve been the most powerful for a long time.” My mind jumps ahead, considering how he just handed over four human women to the leaders of other territories. “Why would you threaten your power like that?”

“Because I’m tired.” He exhales heavily. “Apologies, that’s a pat answer. The more complicated one is that war only benefits a small number of people—at the cost of far too many lives. We’ve been at a tentative peace since I took over, but resources aren’t as plentiful as they used to be. The other leaders are strong in their own ways, but they need an avenue forward to help their people. By helping them help their territories, I pave the way to long-lasting peace.”

I snort. “Or you do until one of them—or their descendants—gets power hungry and starts the whole process again.”

He sighs again. “Yes. Though I don’t think that’s a risk with the current leadership. Sol—the dragon—is honorable enough to make my teeth ache. The kraken, Thane, is still grieving the loss of his husband, but he will do what’s right for his people. Bram . . .” His gaze goes distant. “Well, I’m worried about Bram, but there’s little enough I can do in the meantime. And Rusalka is probably the best leader in this realm. They’ll take care of their territory—and Belladonna too.”

Belladonna. The woman at dinner last night. I have to admit that she seemed happy. Genuinely happy. It boggles my mind a bit, but then, Rusalka didn’t spend years lying to her about their identity.

The reminder sits heavy in my chest. I sit up. “So your cousin wants to keep the power isolated with the bargainers instead of sharing it.”

“To put it simply, yes.”

Damn Azazel for making me respect his ideals, even if they’ve resulted in endangering me. His people aren’t my people—no one in this realm is—but I’m not so coldhearted as to say they don’t matter. It doesn’t make what I’ve lost easier to bear, though. It just makes me understand him a little bit more.

I sit up. “Why me? Why go through this intricate song and dance for so long?”

Another long silence. This time I wait. I need to know the answer.

“There was a moment in your life,” he finally says. “Less than six months before you met Pope.”

I frown. “What about it?” I don’t like thinking about how dark the place I occupied during that time was, how hard it was, how low I got before Pope walked into my life and changed everything.

“Part of having bargainers’ magic is being drawn to the humans most susceptible to making deals. I was going to approach you then, but you met Pope before I decided the best avenue to meet you.” He doesn’t look at me. “Becoming your client was supposed to be my in. But that first night . . .”

I remember. I don’t want to, but I do. Azazel wasn’t my first client, but he was the first one that made me forget myself, at least a little. He made me feel seen and valued in a way that I needed desperately. He walked into that room filled with other professionals, took one look at me, and chose me. And then he kept coming back for me—and only me—through the years. It felt special. It made me feel special. “What about that night?”

He carefully rolls onto his side and looks up at me. “You were figuring it out. You didn’t need a bargain. You had it handled.”

Okay, that’s not where I thought that was going. “So you just decided to lurk in my life and wait for me to hit rock bottom again?”

“No.” He sits up. “Absolutely fucking not. I enjoyed spending time with you. I . . . didn’t want to stop.”

I don’t know how to feel about everything he’s told me. Maybe he’s not a complete monster, hunting me across the years, but he’s been selfish. He’s lied to me. He put me in danger and didn’t bother to find another solution before he used that danger to trick me into doing what he wanted all along—making a deal with him.

For all that . . .

I carefully climb out of the soft massive bed. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Eve.”

I don’t want to look at him. I’m hanging by a thread here, and I can’t begin to explain what happens if that thread snaps. “Yes?”

“I know it doesn’t change anything, but I’m sorry. Truly.”

The worst part is that I believe him. If his enemies hadn’t decided to target me, maybe I would have spent the rest of my years as an escort enjoying the nights with him as a client. I don’t know. I can’t think.

But even as I open my mouth to tell him that this changes nothing, that I still hate him . . . I can’t quite manage the words. They feel too much like a lie, and as angry as I still am, I can’t meet his honesty this morning with lies meant to hurt him. I don’t know where that leaves us. I don’t know much of anything at all right now.

I say nothing as I walk to the door and step through it. Directly into my room. I blink, some of my confusion melting away in awe of the castle. “I didn’t know you could do that,” I say softly. “That’s really cool.”

My doorknob rattles, and I raise my brows. It’s never done that before; maybe it’s Azazel chasing me down, but I don’t think so. I cautiously open the door, and my jaw drops at the sight of a garden. It’s not the same as the space I broke down in yesterday. This one is massive, with large trees stretching so high, I can almost believe I’m truly outside. “It’s so beautiful.”

When I walked out of Azazel’s room, I fully intended to head straight for the shower and maybe have a good cry over how conflicted I feel. Instead, I find myself stepping into this garden and breathing deeply.

Only to pause when I catch the scent of coffee.

I feel a little silly following my nose like some kind of cartoon character. The path winds through the trees and flowers and plants, a practical paradise, to a small courtyard with a table and a single chair in it. On the table is a covered plate, still steaming in the cool morning air, and a carafe of what appears to be coffee.

I look around, but no one appears. “Is this for me?” The trees rustle around me as if in affirmation. I smile. “Thank you.”

As I pull out the chair, I almost expect someone to approach and tell me that I’m stealing their breakfast, but the courtyard stays as quiet and soothing as it was the moment I arrived.

The first sip of coffee is divine. I haven’t been hungover like this in a very long time. I like wine and the occasional whisky, but the older I get, the less it’s worth overindulging. The hangovers seem to get longer and longer, while the drunk shenanigans become significantly less cute.

Lifting the plate cover reveals exactly the type of breakfast I’m craving—fried eggs, hashbrowns, and crispy bacon. I stare down at it. “I didn’t think you had food like what I’m used to here.” Which isn’t to say the food I’ve eaten since arriving here is bad. Quite the contrary. It’s been delicious to the point where I resent it. But it’s not familiar in the way this plate is.

I almost ask if it’s a trick, but that seems unbearably rude. “Thank you.”

The rustling of the trees is my only response.

Over the next few days, Azazel keeps a careful distance. I only see him for meals, and even then, he’s distantly polite. Likely, he’s feeling guilty all over again, and while I should find that satisfying, the truth is that I’m damned tired of this one-sided fighting.

I still can’t bring myself to forgive him for trapping me here, though.

Despite my determination to do . . . something . . . I find myself returning to the garden the castle showed me, again and again. The castle provides any number of things in an attempt to keep me occupied. Books written in a language I don’t understand, because apparently the spell Azazel placed on me without my permission doesn’t extend to reading. A sketchbook and watercolors that I toy with, more out of boredom than any true artistic desire or ability. And, finally, a basket filled with skeined yarn in a variety of colors and weights, along with needles in a range of sizes.

And so I pick up knitting again. Pope bullied me into learning the skill few years back; he claimed it would be good for my mental health to keep my hands busy. They were right—they usually are—and it became an activity I gravitated toward again and again over the years. I don’t exactly set out to knit a sweater, but I start a pattern I’ve knit enough times that I mostly have it memorized. I’ve never had use for so many knitted garments, so I always donated the final pieces to a nearby women’s shelter. I don’t know what I’ll do with this sweater, but the familiarity of knitting it is comforting, especially when the castle somehow pipes through soft music to keep me company.

When I’m here, I can almost pretend that I’m free. It’s a bandage, and not even a good one at that, but it’s something. It soothes my anger.

At least until I look up one morning to realize I’m not alone. Azazel stands a respectful distance away, his hands clasped behind his back. He’s wearing his “work” clothing—a long tunic that’s split up the sides nearly to his hips, paired with pants and boots.

I freeze, suddenly feeling vulnerable and defensive. “What are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you.” He glances around as if he’s never seen this place before. “I haven’t been in this garden in years. I forgot it existed.”

“Or maybe the castle didn’t want to remind you.”

He smiles briefly. “There’s that as well.” Azazel clears his throat. “If you’re up for it, I thought we could get out of the castle for a little while?”

“The prisoner gets a furlough. How lovely.”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to tell me that I’m not a prisoner, before seeming to change his mind. “If you don’t want to leave, you’re more than welcome to say no.”

I glare, because he’s got me over a barrel and he knows it. No matter how lovely the garden, how eager the castle is to entertain me, it’s all still a cage. Getting a chance to leave it, even temporarily, isn’t something I’m going to pass on. I set my knitting aside, tucking it carefully back into the basket, and rise. “Where are we going?”

He’s cautious—I’ll give him that. He doesn’t smile or react at all, other than to motion for me to walk next to him. “Ramanu is gone for a time. Some of their responsibilities have been handed off to others, but I need to make an appearance at one of the local villages just outside the city.”

I fall into step next to Azazel, trying not to notice how he shortens his stride to match mine instead of making me chase him. “Where is Ramanu?” I haven’t seen them in a couple of days, but I just assumed they were making the rounds, checking on the humans with the other territory leaders.

“There’s a witch they’ve had their eye on—so to speak—for some time. She’s finally gotten around to summoning them, so they’ve gone to offer her a bargain.”

I swallow down an acid comment about the phrasing of them making a bargain instead of kidnapping their mark. If we start fighting, it will end in me storming off, and I’ll miss my chance to get out of the castle for a bit.

Azazel, of course, divines the direction of my thoughts. “I’m not proud of the way I lied to you, but don’t take that as a sign of how bargains are typically struck. If Ramanu’s witch agrees, it will be on her own terms and because she wants to.”

For the first time since coming here, I’m forced to wonder what I would have done if Azazel had come to me with honesty instead of lies. Would I have shut him down? Or would I have seriously considered his offer?

It bothers me that I don’t know the answer to that question.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER 14

AZAZEL

Watching Eve unfurl the farther we get from the castle makes my chest hurt. I knew she was unhappy, but it’s so easy to justify the cost when I’m not the one paying it. We could have portaled directly to the village in question, but I chose a spot about an hour’s walk away. My reasons weren’t entirely altruistic—I wanted more time with her—but now I’m even gladder I made that choice.

She walks down the wide dirt path with her head tilted back and her face to the sun. Today, she’s wearing a loose shirt and a long skirt, looking just as beautiful as she always does.

“Tell me about this village,” she says without looking over.

A nice, neutral topic. “The city takes up a decent portion of our territory, but there are dozens of villages in the surrounding area. Most of them have a heavy focus in agriculture and trade agreements with the city to sell whatever they produce that their community won’t need. Those agreements are generous, which benefits both the city and the villages.”

“Hmmm.” She glances at me. “Who put those agreements into place?”

Heat spreads beneath my skin. I keep my gaze forward. “There have been trade agreements since the founding of the territory.”

“I’m sure. But not these agreements.” Eve is still speaking as if feeling out her reasoning. “Are the terms of the agreement another thing Brosh is furious about?”

The heat in my skin gets more uncomfortable. “Without farming villages like the one we’re visiting today, the city starves. We have plenty of stores saved up, and there are gardens within the city proper, so it wouldn’t happen quickly, but eventually it would happen.”

Eve laughs a little, the sound strained. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Fine,” I snap. “Yes, I changed the terms when I took over. It’s shortsighted to rule by fear and even more shortsighted to take instead of paying fair prices. And they always took more than the villages could afford to lose. The moment communities start starving, the seed for violence takes root. Yes, the city pays through the nose for that food, but the amount is still less than we pay in trade agreements with other territories.”

She doesn’t say anything for several long minutes. The day is pleasant, warm without being hot, with just enough clouds in the sky to prevent the sun from feeling overbearing. I hardly notice it.

Especially when Eve sighs. “You know, you’re making it very hard to hate you, Azazel.”

I don’t know what to say to that, what answer won’t cause this strange moment between us to fracture. So I say nothing at all. I simply walk next to Eve and slowly, after a while, start pointing out the birds and small animals that flutter and scurry across our path. It’s . . . nice.

I pause right before the path turns into the descent that will take us to the village. This is always the hard part for me. I lead because it’s the right thing to do, because Caesarea was my aunt and so many other members of my family contributed to the harm done under her rule. I decided I didn’t want to live in a world like the one they’d fostered. It would have been easy to say I wanted change and then sit back and do nothing, but that’s not how I’m formed. I had power to change things, had support to make it happen, and so I did. The battle for my territory’s people is one I’ll be fighting for the rest of my life.

This part, though? There’s a reason I delegated the village visits to Ramanu. I inhale slowly and exhale just as slowly. Then I do it again a few more times. I’m aware of Eve watching me, but she asks no questions, and I’m not in the mood to explain myself. Not about this.

It’s so foolish. There’s no reason to be so dramatic. Nothing bad is going to happen, and it won’t kill me to be uncomfortable for a short period of time. “Let’s go.” I start walking again.

It takes no time at all to reach the village. As I expected—dreaded—there’s a welcoming committee. My cousin Alice is first to reach us; she’s a broad woman nearly as tall as I am, with curving horns and deep-purple skin. Her curly dark hair bounces with each step she takes, and her wide grin calms some of my nerves. “Old Man Azazel! It’s about time you came around.” She claps me on the shoulder hard enough that I have to brace myself not to stagger.

“Old Man Azazel,” Eve murmurs.

Alice turns to Eve, her dark-brown eyes lighting up with interest. “So you’re the human who has the old man in a tizzy.” She grins wider. “Can’t say I blame him. Look at you!”

To my shock, Eve’s cheeks turn pink, and she stammers a little. “I, uh, I . . . I’m Eve.”

“Pleasure.” Alice takes Eve’s hand and bends over it, then places a lingering kiss on her knuckles. I don’t realize I’m growling until Alice gives me a cheeky grin and bounces to her feet. “I’m just playing. You know I’d never step on your toes like that. You’re family, after all.”

Eve sputters out a shocked laugh. “Did you just say family?”

“Alice is another one of my cousins.” As the baby of the bunch, nearly thirty years younger than me, she’s seemed to take it as her mission in life to loosen the rest of us up.

“That’s right. Youngest of seven, gods bless my saintly mother.” Alice loops her arm through Eve’s and turns her easily to start heading deeper into the village.

Saintly mother is one way to put it. Alice’s mother was the strong right hand of Caesarea. She was greatly favored to become the next leader, and although she wasn’t as bad as Caesarea, she had facilitated the monster’s actions and policies. Fear of that, more than anything, is what made me challenge our leader for the position.

I don’t like to think of that battle. I don’t like to think about how it cost me half my family, how it created a divide that I’m not sure will ever be resolved. Before. After. The old way. The new.

Alice doesn’t seem to hold any of it against me, but I still feel awkward whenever I’m required to come out here and interact with her and her people. She leads us to the village square, which currently contains three massive tables piled high with food.

She catches me looking and grins. “Come now, old man. I know this was supposed to be a generic check-in on the community, but you never come out this way these days. I had to make an event of it.”

Of course she did.

I open my mouth to remind my cousin that we’re not staying long, but the words stall in my throat when I catch sight of Eve’s interest as she takes in the sight before us. This may be a little slice of torment for me, but I can endure it if it will make her happy. “Alice, give us a moment.”

She shrugs. “Sure thing. I’m going to see about the band.”

Gods preserve me, I truly hope she did not say what I think she just said. I watch her walk away and veer from one gathered small group to the next, an easy word ready for every single one of her people. Alice may be young by our people’s standards, but she’s a natural leader, and her village has flourished since she took over.

Eve turns to me, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “You two could not be more different.”

“I’m aware.” No reason to resent Alice for putting the woman I love at ease when all I manage to do is hurt her. I strive to push down my irritation. “We don’t have to stay long. I just need to do the rounds.”

“Do the rounds,” she murmurs. “Tour the fields? Maybe kiss some babies?”

I’m flushing again. “Something like that.”

“Azazel . . .” She glances at the people gathered. “Could we stay? Just for a little while? It should be safe, right?”

I wouldn’t have brought her with me if I wasn’t sure that Alice ran a tight ship and held a deep hatred for Brosh and all of his ilk. “It’s safe enough.”

She surveys me. “But this makes you deeply uncomfortable. Why?”

If anyone else had asked, I would beg off answering the question. But this is Eve, and while we may hardly have a relationship as such things go, the least I can do is answer whatever question she chooses to ask me. At least she’s speaking to me at all. “I don’t think I should be praised for doing the right thing.”

Eve seems to digest that. She turns her attention to where Alice laughs with a group of children, each holding a ribbon attached to a stick. My cousin truly went all out for this ambush. Finally, Eve says, “There’s praise and there’s appreciation. If it makes you that uncomfortable, why didn’t you send someone else out today? Surely there are other people beyond Ramanu who can do this.”

“Two reasons: It may make me deeply uncomfortable to go through this song and dance, but it makes them happy, and I would have to be a monster to stomp on that.” It’s an effort not to shuffle my feet. “And I wanted an excuse to spend time with you. I knew you would say yes to leaving the castle.”

Instead of telling me she hates me again, her smile widens, blooming from a faint curve to something more real. “If you really want to leave, we can.”

I sigh. “No, we can’t. You don’t want to. And it would hurt Alice’s feelings.”

Her grin reaches her eyes. “Yep.”

“That’s a neat little trap you set for me to walk into.”

She actually laughs. Not a bitter chuckle. Not a choked, angry sound. A true laugh, loud and boisterous, tossing her head back. “You’re high-handed and aggravating, but you have a soft, gooey center, don’t you?” She leans in, her amusement drawing me close even though I know better than to believe this might truly be a turning point for us. Eve lowers her voice, practically purring. “Poor Daddy. Being perceived is deeply uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

All the blood in my body rushes south. I tense. Fuck staying here. If she’s going to speak to me in that tone of voice, I’m going to toss her over my shoulder and haul her gorgeous ass to the nearest clearing to fuck her within an inch of her life. Every thought in my head goes to how lovely she looks with lust flushing her body, how perfect her pussy is when she’s taking my cock, in . . .

Except Eve is walking away from me, a swing in her step, her skirt swishing as she glances over her shoulder and winks at me.

The little brat.

I have to turn away, have to take deep breaths and focus on the sound of my cousin’s voice braying with laughter behind me in order to get my body under control again. It takes a bare minute, but by the time I turn around again, Eve is in the midst of the villagers, chatting easily and smiling as if she’s having a great time.

“I like her.”

I jolt. I hadn’t noticed Alice closing the distance. “I do too.”

My cousin loops her arm through mine. “Let’s get the tour out of the way. Be prepared to ooh and aah over our fields!” She seems to notice that my steps are slow and raises her brows. “I know you’ve had some trouble, but she’s safe here. Every single one of my people would toss themselves on a sword for you, and we don’t undervalue the humans who are in our territory.”

There are only half a dozen or so currently in this village, two of whom are linked to Alice through contracts. “I know.” It’s still hard to walk away from Eve—and that has little to do with the ever-present danger and more to do with the fact she was flirting with me. Not in order to escape. Not out of spite. She teased me just because she could. How can I see that as anything but progress?

True to her word, Alice keeps the tour of the nearby fields short. It’s an effort to stay focused, but I’m here for a reason. I frown as we finish with the last one and turn back toward the village proper. “You’ve expanded quite a bit since last year.”

“We have.” She shrugs. “The land is doing well, and our numbers have grown. We gained three new families in the last six months alone. Not everyone is cut out for city life; they’ve slipped right into our rhythm without much friction at all.”

“Will you need supplemental help come harvest time?”

She chuckles. “We always need supplemental help during harvest time.”

I don’t know how leadership sits so easily on her shoulders. I suspect it has to do with a difference in personalities. From the moment she was born, Alice has moved through the world in a completely different way than I do. “I’ll make sure to put the word out. There are plenty of young adults who can afford to spend a season with you. The city will supplement their wages, of course.”

“Of course,” Alice says dryly. “It’s not necessary, though. We can afford the cost. Our coffers are full, thanks to your trading policies.”

“That’s why I said supplement.” I nudge her with my shoulder. “You have a lot to take pride in here, Alice. You’ve done a good job. But the city is prosperous enough to help, and so it should.”

She’s silent nearly all the way back, only speaking when she pulls me to a stop as we reach the first house. “You’re doing good work, Azazel. I know it’s a thankless task to run this territory, especially with so many of the old guard rumbling about the changes, but the changes are good. So many people who were barely getting by before are prospering. That’s important.”

I clear my throat. “Uh, thanks.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll stop praising you now.” She shakes her head and moves forward again. “I hear the music starting up. You’d better make sure you dance with your girl.” She shoots a grin over her shoulder. “Otherwise, I might beat you to the chance.”

OceanofPDF.com