Elven Lies (Court of Rebellion #3)

9. Chapter 9

9

S he must have looked particularly desperate as she gazed up at Maxwell and silently urged him to just do what she said. Their lives literally depended on it—hers, Maxwell’s, and Nyx’s.

Finally, with another light snort, he relented and popped half a strawberry into his mouth.

She didn’t see him chew once before he swallowed, but then it was done.

Harkennr heaved a long, airy, contented sigh. Why wouldn’t he be pleased to have Rebecca eating from his hand, almost literally, before he refilled his crystal wine glass she could have sworn it was still half-full thirty seconds ago?

The warlock sniffed the wine, sipped, swirled a taste of it around in his mouth, then smacked his lips and sat back in his chair. “I suppose I’ve bored you enough with the overview of things. I imagine you may be particularly interested in the finer details. I’m quite eager to share those with you as well.”

“I can imagine,” Rebecca replied, gauging the right moment for offering a reply instead of sitting and smiling and nodding where appropriate.

If Harkennr didn’t feel the conversation could naturally progress on its own merit, he’d end up asking her questions to keep them going.

Even worse, he might decide to ask Maxwell a few questions, in which case her ability to mitigate some of the worst outcomes during this meeting would be obliterated.

Not that she didn’t think Maxwell could handle himself. He’d already proven he could. But with Harkennr, a straight answer was never just a straight answer.

Whatever trials the warlock had endured, he’d always had the ability to read anyone like an open book during conversation. Even back when she thought she’d known him in Ryngivát.

She’d be an idiot to assume he hadn’t retained the skill.

Harkennr took another luxuriating sip of wine. “What I aim to achieve here in this world is, in my own humble opinion, merely a new extension of my previous work in the old world. Though, admittedly, some may view it as a bit of an adulteration instead.”

Rebecca couldn’t help but look up at him when he paused, and she didn’t miss Harkennr’s raised eyebrow while he waited—a clear invitation for her to expound upon his statement, if she wanted.

Was he seriously looking for her thoughts on his mad-scientist nightmare prison in her city?

No thanks. Rebecca wouldn’t bite.

She plucked a grape from the fruit platter instead and popped it into her mouth without tasting a thing.

“But they would be wrong,” Harkennr continued. “The first to judge are always the last to truly understand. That’s simply the way of it.

“Which is another reason I wanted to have you here, Roth-Da’al. The Commander of an organization like Shade, I imagine, is far less likely to come with her own set of preconceived notions about much of anything.”

Now he was just fishing.

Still, Rebecca held her tongue. This wasn’t about her and her opinions of his “work”. She knew that much. This was all about Harkennr. She just had to suffer through the rest of it until he’d finally satisfied himself.

“You strike me as someone who quickly and easily draws logical conclusions from the evidence provided,” he added. “Nevertheless, I can’t say I’m a particular fan of mixed messages.”

Lying bastard.

“So I’ll cut through the mystery here and get right down to it.” Harkennr set down his wine glass and leaned forward over his place setting, folding both hands atop the table and gazing at Rebecca more intently than ever. “Right here, in this very facility, I have successfully constructed the necessary technology and infrastructure for reappropriating certain types of magic and then, of course, repurposing that magic for a variety of applications I find incredibly exciting.

“We’re currently focused on the variations of simply transferring magical energy and abilities and stabilizing them with viable recipients. Of course, that part’s always a little tricky, though I will say I’m impressed by how quickly humans mastered the process with blood transfusions among their own species. Given how young they are.

“Once I’m satisfied with the success rate of our transfer techniques, I plan next to investigate specific reactions and even beneficial augmentations, once the extracted magic meets the recipient’s inherent abilities and the various energies come to a certain…mutually beneficial homeostasis.

“Quite honestly, I had at one point the perfect initial study subject in mind for such an auspicious new application but recently discovered that subject was in fact unavailable for such a historic venture.” His green eyes burned into Rebecca’s. “Pity.”

This stuck-up asshole.

He hadn’t said anything specific, with zero details whatsoever, but his words combined with the hungry and still playfully disappointed look in his eyes made her fairly certain she knew who that “perfect initial study subject” was.

It made sense that he’d think of her to test his new theories on. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had attempted such a thing, let alone considered it. But then, he must have realized once he’d found her that Rebecca commanded Shade now. She was a lot higher on the totem pole these days, even Earthside, than he’d expected her to be.

Which meant she could no longer be bought or sold, unless of course she decided to sell herself. And that was beyond the realm of possibility.

She wanted to spit in his face.

“I’m sure you’ll find a suitable alternative,” she said dryly. “As long as they agree to the process and enter the trials of their own free will.”

The second she said it, she wished she hadn’t, but he’d just pushed too many of her buttons.

Harkennr chuckled and raised his wine glass toward her in a mocking toast. “That is an integral part of our process here. I would never ask someone to join in my work if they weren’t already open and willing to see things through.”

“That’s good to hear,” she muttered, then realized she was playing with the laughably tiny amount of food on her plate because she couldn’t think of anything else to do that wouldn’t get her and Maxwell instantly thrown out.

And they still hadn’t reached the part where Harkennr handed Nyx back.

Good to hear?

Just saying it made her stomach churn. She already knew how many intelligent officials and dignitaries and military leaders had been sucked in by Kordus Harkennr’s reassurances like the one he’d thrown in her face.

Because he was always perfectly honest.

He would never ask anyone to join him in his work if they weren’t already on board with what he was doing, so he simply didn’t ask. He just abducted civilians right out of their everyday lives and subjected them to his experiments instead.

No one could ever object to what he was doing if he never gave them the opportunity to do so.

“Be that as it may,” he added, “there is another very specific intention behind my invitation to have you here. With you as the new Roth-Da’al of Shade, I was hoping you and I might come to a few new arrangements together. Or at least that you might be open to further discussing such a prospect. If you were, I imagine there would be plenty of room for even improving upon past agreements I entered with your predecessor.”

Beside her, Maxwell choked on something, coughed twice, then pounded a fist against his chest and reached for the crystal pitcher of water that hadn’t yet been touched. He downed the entire glass he poured himself with admirable calm and control, especially after that last bomb Harkennr dropped on them.

Aldous Corriger had actually been in league with Kordus Harkennr. For how long was anyone’s guess, but the fact remained.

Blue Hells. Shade’s last commander really had been a one-of-a-kind idiot.

Fucking changeling…

“The benefits of such a partnership are staggering,” Harkennr said, pouring himself more wine with one hand and dabbing the napkin against his lips with the other. “And, for individuals in our positions, those benefits naturally far outweigh the costs.”

The creaking groan of Rebecca’s teeth grinding together filled her head. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Harkennr heard it. She was sure Maxwell did.

“Naturally,” she hissed.

The warlock ignored her lapse in etiquette. He’d be patient with her for a time, simply because he knew he’d taken her off guard. It would be no fun for him if he didn’t first give her a chance to try to compose herself.

She also knew his patience didn’t last forever.

When she finally managed to stop grinding her teeth, she took a calming breath and stared at her plate as if she were mulling over the offer.

Not everything was an act for Harkennr, especially his pride.

“I appreciate your consideration,” she replied cautiously, “but for now, the only thing I can tell you is that I’m not ready to make any decisions on this.”

She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but choosing to leave a few possibilities open was probably more than he’d hoped to get from her.

It was more than she wanted to give, but he’d walked her into a corner with invitations and old laws and a kingly feast, not to mention the fact that he still held Nyx hostage somewhere and still hadn’t told Rebecca where that was.

“I completely understand,” Harkennr added with a gracious dip of his head. “And I commend your caution, Roth-Da’al. Truly, I do. Your predecessor didn’t possess the same presence of mind, to say nothing for his strength of character. I’ll only say one more thing, and then I’ll let you take your time to think things over.”

Only one more thing?

“Yes, I did make certain arrangements with Aldous in the past. This is true. I also understand how a change in leadership can affect those kinds of agreements. I do not wish to hold you to another’s standards, nor do I expect you to be anything like Aldous Corriger as Shade’s new Roth-Da’al. I imagine any similarities the two of you shared would have prevented your being recommended for the position in the first place.

“You must make your own decisions, of course. Do remember I eagerly await your response while you take the necessary time to decide. Not too much time, though, I hope.”

Rebecca shouldn’t have eaten that grape.

Now it threatened to fly back up, though vomiting on every other dish on the table hardly fell under the umbrella of proper etiquette in civilized gatherings.

“I’ll—” Her throat felt like it was closing, and she snatched up Maxwell’s water glass before draining the rest of it in one breath and trying her damnedest not to shatter that glass when she set it back down on his place setting.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she finally said with a surprisingly level confidence she absolutely did not feel.

“Wonderful.” Harkennr spread his arms and sat back in his chair again, like a lunatic king on his imaginary throne. “It would delight me to know I may have you come aboard. But I am content to hear you’ll consider it. That’s all I’m asking for now.”

Bullshit. He was asking her to swallow more than one bitter pill as she sat here listening to him rattle on about his past and future plans and how valuable he thought she could be, either as a test subject or as a fucking partner in torture and mad-magitek science.

There was nothing Rebecca could do about it now. Harkennr hadn’t just abducted Nyx to get Rebecca’s attention. He’d taken one of her operatives, a member of her task force under her command and her protection, and had used the katari as a hostage to keep both Rebecca and Maxwell in line while he spouted insanity at them.

He had to know most sane people on Earth, old-worlders or Earthborn, would have been appalled by his work and subsequent propositions. That most would have left in an outrage, abandoning their airs of formal civility before trying to wring Harkennr’s neck in his own house.

Rebecca wanted to.

So did Maxwell.

His breathing had quickened to an alarming rate, his silver eyes strobing violently beneath the strain of holding himself in check.

From somewhere beneath the table, Rebecca heard the grinding slice of fingernails cutting into wood.

If he kept this up much longer, he’d pull the chair apart with his bare hands while still sitting in it.

Please , By the Blood, let this sadistic bastard be finished with his side of the story.

If they didn’t get Nyx out of here soon, their window of opportunity would likely close, and that moment now felt dangerously close.

“How exciting.” Harkennr simpered in his chair, then looked at Maxwell for the first time in the last twenty minutes of the warlock’s babbling about his torturous, illegal, unethical, but staggeringly beneficial work. “Before we move on to other things, I would love to answer any questions either of you may have.”

“Enough of this!” With a snarl, Maxwell leaped to his feet. His chair slid out behind him across the rug with hardly a sound, then stuck fast. “You told us once you finished, you would give us the information about Nyx we requested. So where is she? What have you done to her?”

“Oh…” An eerily girlish chuckle erupted from Harkennr’s open mouth as he reached into the inside breast pocket of his dinner jacket. “I do admire such unrestrained passion, though it’s more helpful for everyone if you learn how to focus it.”

Every muscle in Rebecca’s body tensed and thrummed with awareness before that blazing, fiery burn shot straight through to her bones again.

No, not her bones. Not even her muscles. She was feeling Maxwell again.

Not the best timing, but she couldn’t blame him for reacting like this when a lunatic like Harkennr reached into his pocket with a predatory grin that now made him look like a shark in a dinner jacket.

It was slightly harder to reach him—and vastly more obvious when Rebecca remained in her chair and Maxwell had already stood—but she leaned toward him far enough to grab his wrist again and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

No shifting. No fighting. Those were the rules. They had to put up with Harkennr only until the second they left his base. After that, everything was back on the table again. But not just yet.

The shifter sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath at the contact and glared at her, as if Harkennr had just served newborn puppies on a platter as the next course and Rebecca had suggested he try one.

But he was still in enough control to know she’d reached out for a reason. So Maxwell reined himself in one more time, because she’d wordlessly asked him to.

Not a moment too soon, either.

When Harkennr removed his hand from his inside pocket, he withdrew not a weapon but something thoroughly mundane and surprisingly non-threatening. A sleek, narrow remote control, though there was no sign of a television in his prison-basement-dining-hall.

“As I’ve told you,” Harkennr said calmly, spreading his arms and waving the remote around casually, as if it were as threatening to his guests as a dinner napkin, “the katari is perfectly fine. Unharmed. Untouched. You may rest easy with that knowledge.”

Maxwell growled again. “You said we had your word .”

“Of course you do. And I am, if nothing else, quite a man of my word. See for yourselves.” Harkennr aimed the remote at nothing in particular without taking his eyes off his guests and pressed a button.

The same churning, rumbling growl of stone against stone filled the room, but this time, Rebecca immediately saw where it came from.

A panel of stone slid open along the far wall of the basement to reveal a circular raised dais and the gut-churning sight Rebecca had hoped not to find.

It was Nyx, lying motionless in the same type of heavily augmented metallic torture chair as the one they’d seen upstairs. The fact that this one lacked leather straps and iron manacles and boasted a thick layer of luxurious cushioning instead didn’t make it any less palatable.

The chair had reclined enough to make it look almost like a bed. Like Nyx could have been sleeping. But from this distance, it was hard to tell if she was even breathing .

Then the worst thought wormed its way through Rebecca’s mind.

If Nyx had been here all along, if she’d already spent too much time in that chair, they might already be too late to save her anyway.