43. Desperate Measures
Desperate Measures
M ila woke the following morning curled deeply in Culis’s embrace, still encased by his energy, his desire to protect and touch her.
She stirred gently, and when he realised she was awake, he pulled her even closer.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he murmured against her skin.
When he placed a gentle kiss on her lips, Mila felt her body respond instantly. She pulled him in, deepening the kiss and clutching at his shirt, desperately wanting to feel the bare skin underneath. He groaned with delight at her response and pressed himself even more firmly against her, fingers tangling in her hair.
His hands ran down the length of her, brushing over her jaw, her neck, down to her breasts, running his hand gently over one and over her stomach.
Mila arched and her breath hitched. His touch was fire to her skin, setting each nerve alight. She couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted to breathe him in .
“Let’s go get this accursed necklace off you,” Culis whispered hungrily against her ear.
Bang, bang, bang!
A loud knocking at her door startled them both, and Baird’s voice made Culis groan with frustration.
“Master Culis, Marcina LaVencia has arrived.”
Culis stared down at Mila, and she felt the sharp energy of his regret and disappointment flow through him.
“Ahhh.” He kissed her again. “Mila. I’m so sorry, but we have to go meet her. She’s here for Flue.”
Mila sat up quickly. “For Flue? Can I meet her first?”
“Yes, of course.” Culis kissed her again, then regretfully pulled away and left the bed. “To be continued,” he said in a low voice, his eyes smouldering. “And we’re getting that necklace off. Today.”
* * *
Marcina LaVencia was a beautiful woman of indeterminate age, who Culis greeted with a level of familiarity that rankled Mila a little.
“Well, Christopher.” She rubbed her hands with anticipation. “I have taken an extraordinary gamble on you and your demons. Paying for one without even knowing who it might be or what their powers are. Tell me. Who and what have I purchased?”
“ Nearly purchased,” Culis corrected. “The demon who has chosen you as their master is Flue,” he said with a wave of his hand.
Despite everything she now knew about Culis, Mila’s stomach still lurched as Flue was brought into the room on command.
“Flue can cause anyone to become infatuated with them.”
Marcina’s eyes grew wide. “At will?”
“The opposite, actually. Flue appears to have to make a concerted effort for it not to happen. ”
Marcina stood and walked towards Flue, wonder written all over her face. “Is it happening now?” she asked, half joking, half afraid. “Or am I just overcome with excitement at this prospect?”
“How do you hope to use Flue?” Mila asked curiously, disliking the way the woman was appraising them as though they were cattle at a market.
Marcina glanced at her sharply, and then piercingly at Culis, as though waiting for him to silence his slave.
Culis merely shrugged and gave a little smile. “Convincing Mila is the final step of the sale,” he said, astonishing everyone in the room, including Mila.
“Ahh.” Marcina’s tone became conciliatory. Her voice was deep, eyebrows dark and arched, and her eyes were a brilliant green. Too green to be natural. She must have added some kind of enhancer to them. “You’ve been a most…influential ambassador for your kind,” she purred.
“How do you intend to use Flue?” Mila repeated.
“My dear.” Marcina seemed offended that Mila did not know her legacy by sight alone. “I am the head of The Harem. We train and house exclusive courtesans.”
In horror, Mila rounded on Culis. “Flue cannot go into a whore house.”
“Demon!” Marcina suddenly barked in a scolding tone, then collected herself. “Mila. Do you even know what a courtesan is? Do not denigrate me and my business into the equivalent of a dark dockside rumble.” She turned to Flue, with an entirely different, far kinder tone. “My employees are all artists. You will be too. Companions of The Harem are all highly skilled flirts, trained in the art of conversation, the keeping of secrets, and provision of entertainment. Sex is but a very small part of what we offer our clientele. And not only will you be a most invaluable addition…I do believe you’ll enjoy yourself. Most of my employees do.”
Mila looked at Flue. “You chose this? Was there no better option?”
Flue gazed back at her for a long moment before giving a small shrug. “I…it doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend the next ten years. Better perhaps than being golden dust.”
“But, Flue…” Mila whispered, feeling the familiar agony of her own guilt.
“Up until I met you, Mila, my life was one of fear and hiding. This…this at least offers something different. It might…it might be okay.”
“Precisely!” Marcina gleamed with a clasp of her hands in a somewhat extravagant gesture. “Shall we sign the contracts then?”
Mila still wasn’t quite convinced, but Flue’s agreement and the fact this had been their choice over other options seemed to be enough for everyone else. So, contracts were signed, and Mila hugged Flue fiercely.
“You’re only just over in Traders Bay,” she whispered. “It’s not that far, and we are there often with Culis’s business. I will ensure we see one another as often as business permits. You’re not alone.”
Flue nodded, looking nervous but determined, and then they were gone.
Culis stood alone with Mila in the room, glowing with pleasure. “It’s happening,” he breathed. “It’s working.”
“Was a courtesan really the best offer for Flue?” she challenged. “Surely, there were others. I sense your hand in this decision.”
“Flue will be fine,” Culis assured her. “Marcina is not a cruel woman, and Flue’s power will ensure that they’re never pushed beyond the boundaries of what they wish to do. I will take you there to visit them in a month, and if Flue is desperately unhappy, then I promise I will invoke one of the loopholes in the contract and refund Marcina for their return. But Flue won’t be unhappy, I guarantee it. I would not have sold them into a situation they weren’t well equipped to handle – and believe me, there were a number of unsuitable purchasers who offered quite a bit more than Marcina did. Flue got to meet them all, and we had robust discussions on who would and wouldn’t be suitable for them.”
Mila wasn’t sure how she felt about the other demons being referred to as “our” demons, but it did give her some relief to know that Culis had been discretionary about who he offered Flue’s contract to, and that he’d given Flue the power to make the final decision on the matter.
“Once again, you just have to trust that I know what I’m doing,” Culis said, watching her face as she processed the information. “Even though I know I’m just a piece of scum…” He let that float between them.
“Hmm,” Mila said softly, but couldn’t hide her smile.
“Mila.” Culis’s gaze grew deeply intense, and he walked over to her, catching her shoulders with both hands.
His closeness reminded her immediately of where they’d left things that morning, and it made her stomach draw in tightly in anticipation.
“I know it’s not a traditional way of improving the conditions for anyone. But I truly believe this will work. We’ll look back in time on this day as a momentous one.”
The earnestness and openness of his energy matched his expression completely. He believed in what he was saying, in what they were doing. He looked at her in a way she’d never seen him look at anyone or anything before. It was as though he’d thrown away the cloak of what it meant to be the infamous Christopher Culis of the Artor Trading Company and stood before her now, simply as a man, wanting to be believed, trusted and understood. He seemed vulnerable somehow, as though he was opening to her a part of himself that he barely even recognised.
It was beautiful, she realised. Beautiful to witness.
Suddenly, all she wanted was to kiss him again, to be reminded of what he tasted like. She leaned forward –
“Why is this day momentous?” A sharp, feminine voice from the doorway broke the spell.
Culis and Mila whirled in shock at the intrusion.
Jezebel.
Culis released Mila and stepped away quickly. It was the worst thing he could have done.
The abrupt movement was not missed, and the princess’s eyebrows narrowed in suspicion and rage. “I. Knew. It.” Jealousy permeated her every word. “I knew that something was amiss. Someone open a window, because it reeks of betrayal in here.”
“Jezebel, there’s nothing – ” Culis tried, but he was swiftly silenced.
“Enough! To think I came all the way here to apologise, to degenerate myself,” Jezebel shrilled. “I thought I’d made a mistake when I woke this morning, hoping the men I’d sent to kill you had failed. But now I see this – ” she gestured at the space between the two of them, “ – and regret that the thought of your death gave me pause for even a second! My instincts were correct!”
She sent the assassins, Mila realised, and saw Culis stiffen as he came to the same conclusion.
It became fully apparent then, the full extent of the danger they were in. Jezebel’s emotions were so frayed that her behaviour was bordering on lunacy. She’d been so hurt by his abrupt departure from the ball that she’d sent assassins after him.
They were all teetering on the edge of her insanity, and Culis’s long game with her was almost entirely to blame .
“I just sold a demon,” Culis interjected as quickly as he could. “That is why it’s a momentous day, princess, nothing more.”
Mila registered with a chill that he’d returned to using her formal title. Culis hardly ever used her royal title when they were alone together. Using it now revealed more than anything else that he was frightened, and that knowledge frightened Mila even more.
“I walked in on you holding her !” Jezebel screeched, her voice pitched higher than usual in her blind, hurt rage. “And last night, you left me alone at my own ball after we’d been attacked because you wanted to save your precious demon. Everyone saw, including my father. I was humiliated! ” She screamed out the last word, letting it echo through the room and out into the corridor.
Culis’s sudden backhand against Mila’s already battered face came out of nowhere. She cried out as she fell to the floor. It hadn’t been the painful action, so much as that the unexpected violence had been shocking.
She hated that tears rose unbidden to her eyes. She blinked through them, looking up in shock to see Culis moving to Jezebel, who was also gaping at what had just happened.
Culis’s desired outcome had been achieved. His slap had momentarily driven the wind out of Jezebel’s tantrum. She allowed Culis to reach for her, pulling her hips against him.
But when he tried to kiss her, she held her shoulders away.
“My love,” he pressed. “You know better than anyone that I am a selfish man, driven by greed. You knew this when you brought me into your bed and your life. You did not turn away then in fear or insecurity but embraced me for my nature. Now…I am not proud of the fact that the need to protect my asset came ahead of my feelings for you last night; however, you cannot expect my nature to change overnight into a…considerate and devoted partner. I don’t know if it’s possible for me to truly love another…but so much as I am able, I love you.”
Culis turned the angle of embrace slightly so he could glance behind Jezebel and see Mila on the floor from the corner of his eye. She saw the panicked query flash across his face for a split second.
Is it enough? he was asking. Are we safe?
In response, she instinctively scanned Jezebel’s energy. The princess’s rage had softened at his words, but there was still a fierce hardness bubbling inside her.
Mila shook her head. He needed to do more.
Culis understood and ploughed on in honeyed tones. “You’re a woman unlike any other I have ever met. You understand my nature because yours matches mine perfectly. I had hoped that, because of this, you might turn out to be the only woman in the world who could possibly understand when my self-absorption overrides my ability to act in your best interests. Much in the same way I understand your need to express your unhappiness towards me in…unusual and frightening ways. I don’t hate you for sending the assassins. I… I love you for that.”
Jezebel hiccoughed a laugh through tears at that last part, and from the floor Mila could barely believe what she was witnessing. This silver-tongued man was talking his way out of Jezebel’s wrath and back into her favour.
Mila felt Jezebel’s intent to destroy them begin to melt away as she ingested his words. She also sensed that Jezebel was particularly pleased by the fact that Mila was on the floor crying, so Mila made an effort to sob freely and loudly.
But it was not quite enough.
Mila had spent months honing her ability to read Jezebel into an acute beam. She knew every minuscule nuance about the woman .
And right now, she knew, despite the fact that she had been mollified, Jezebel’s next words would be devastatingly flippant, with catastrophic consequences. It would be a demand of some kind, an assurance of Culis’s love for her, a way for him to prove it once and for all. Probably a demand that he commit some form of violence on Mila, disfigure her somehow. They weren’t safe yet.
Culis still needed to do more.
She urgently inclined her head upward again. Culis grimaced for half a second in acknowledgement of her message, before he dropped to his knee.
To the complete shock of everyone in the room, he placed his hand on his heart. “Jezebel, my love is not a perfect love, but I offer it, and myself, to you without reservation. Will you marry me?”
Mila’s mouth dropped open, and her blood turned cold.
Jezebel’s eyes bulged, then narrowed with suspicion. “You want to be a prince,” she accused.
“I want nothing more than to run my company and have you by my side as my wife. I will swear off my claim to any royal title.”
Mila felt realisation slowly fill Jezebel’s body. Her face began to illuminate with joy. An open happiness radiated from her, so pure and strong that even in the midst of Mila’s anguish, she couldn’t help but feel terrible for her.
Despite the turmoil of the moment, she was once again struck by the sad truth of Jezebel’s life. The woman had no friends, and whether Midas was a god or not, it was undeniable that Jezebel had been raised in a world with no one to love and no one who loved her back. She had grown up feared, adored, reviled, worshipped and, ultimately, alone and miserable. Culis’s proposal meant something to her that had never been offered before – unconditional love, from someone who purported to see her flaws and love her anyway .
With her power focused on Jezebel, Mila felt the very moment that Culis’s gesture hit home. Something hard broke inside Jezebel. Her cold heart opened a crack and warmth spilled out.
She flung herself onto him, arms wrapped passionately around his neck, her beautiful face awash with emotion.
“I will marry you,” she whispered hoarsely, then poured herself into their kiss.