Chapter 12 #3
I wouldn’t call the weapons I had an arsenal: phone, knife, Taser, and stun gun.
What I wouldn’t have given for a machete to hack my way through the trees on the left path.
A sword to deal with the black mist that kept spooling into a form that I was convinced was dangerous.
I’d even settle for a net as defense against whatever was disrupting the pond waters, making that path to the Balic tree less desirable by the minute.
His arm remained outstretched. Unsure how much help a Taser or stun gun would be, I planned to keep them with me.
“I won’t ask you again.”
“Good, because I don’t want to decline again,” I shot back.
Holding his gaze as he glowered, I refused to cower.
“Contra proferentem,” I supplied. “In a contract, any terms that are unclear are typically interpreted against the party that drafted the contract. Your terms indicated that I’m only given one chance to get the fig from the Balic tree.
There was no mention of a dress code requirement, nor did it exclude the use of weapons.
” I looked at Cirrian, whose lips had curled into a smirk, then back at Diehle.
“You were quite specific about giving me one opportunity to retrieve the fig, and whether I fail or succeed you would still get the grimoire. If I wanted to be annoyingly pedantic, I could point out that you never specified a timeframe on my attempt nor that I had to be the one to acquire the fig.” I pointed to Cirrian.
“Based on the contract, I could even enlist him to get the fig.”
The tension between them had ramped up. It was like dealing with combatants in an undeclared war.
“I’m content with the role of entertained observer,” Cirrian provided, his voice chilly with disinterest.
I’d gone a little too far.
“Very well, it was quite ambiguous. I’ll take responsibility for that,” Diehle admitted.
Who else should? You wrote the contract.
“As written,” Diehle went on, “it works to your favor. I suspect there’s an urgency to acquiring the fig. Cirrian has declined the offer to act as your surrogate. You have your weapons and the one opportunity to get the fig. I suggest you start now.”
He’d worded it as a suggestion, but it was definitely a command. I didn’t have an issue with it because I wanted to be done with him and this situation as soon as possible.
Reassessing my surroundings, I half turned in Diehle’s direction. “Which path is the easiest?” I asked.
Diehle’s sneer folded into bewilderment before humor sparked in his eyes. His head jerked back as he expelled a roar of laughter that reverberated through the expansive space.
“I like you,” he admitted after a long moment of consideration. His delightful lilt was replaced with a serious musing. “You’d make a lively companion. I’d like to keep you.”
“You can’t have her. She’s mine,” Cirrian growled. Talons extended on one of his hands and the other hand clenched into a fist so tight, color drained from the knuckles. I was sure Diehl’s shocked surprise parallelled mine.
Cirrian inhaled a breath that relaxed his scowl. “I have a deal with her that requires her ability to move freely. She’s an unsuitable companion for you.”
She also bites, fights like hell. Would throat-punch and kick anyone in the tits, cooch, and balls if she feels threatened, I tacked on in my head.
What did companion mean to a demon? Mate? Servant? Coerced houseguest?
Guilt tugged at me, remembering how flippantly I’d used coerced houseguest to define Cirrian’s imprisonment. I pushed the emerging feeling aside before it could settle and take root.
Directing my attention to the situation at hand, I was exceedingly grateful for my employment with the Houses of Knight and Hollows and that Corrine knew my whereabouts.
A cloud of reality set in. Would she set aside her fear of demons to come for me, or would a cost/risk analysis prove it wouldn’t be worth it?
“It was just a joke. I was merely letting Kara know how delightful I find her.”
It wasn’t a joke. He was a shit liar. And I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
It seemed he was ready to add to the lie.
A look from Cirrian discouraged it. If Cirrian’s claim on me kept Diehle from making the suggestion again, I’d take the protection.
I’d make sure Cirrian knew that any claim on me was temporary, and I accepted it because it was the most pragmatic thing to do.
Examining the woodland again, I inhaled. The smell of sulfur, salt, and the metallic tang of blood now permeated the air. A scent of metal came from the contract that Diehle held cradled to his chest as he watched me with quiet mirth.
“You may start anytime, Kara.” Diehle’s eyes flared a luminous red as he whispered a few words.
Several things happened at once: The sun disappeared and the sky became grades of gray.
An iridescent shimmer fell over the perimeter of the backyard.
I suspected it was a veil that would prevent passersby seeing the change.
A thick mist covered the landscape, impeding visibility.
Out of my periphery, the thorned branches on the path to my left rustled as if hit by a breeze and were extending farther out.
The right hadn’t changed too much except for the heavier mist near the gazebo making the eerie figure more distinct.
My preferred path over the pond appeared to be the best option.
The largest stone at the center pulsed faintly, as if alive.
The water grew darker and more restless.
Setting my eyes on my target, I started forward.
“Kara.” Cirrian’s deep voice broke through my focus.
He was next to me before I could turn toward the sound of his voice.
His hand cupped my wrist just below his mark on me, sending a prickle over my skin.
It wasn’t as strong as the time he tested our bond, but rather a check on its existence.
Or it could simply be him flexing, demonstrating the control he had over it.
Leaning down, his lips brushed against my ear as he whispered, his voice velvet and somber. “Until you fulfill our agreement, your life is not yours to toy with. It is ours. Put care in protecting it.”
He pulled back enough for me to see the combination of dark mischief and a taunt in his expression.
When I crooked my finger for him to lean down, he angled in with a wary smirk. I let my lips skim over his jaw as I moved toward his ear. Feeling Diehl’s curious eyes on us, I was aware that our exchange appeared intimate. I cradled his face, feeling the muscles of his face shift to form a smile.
Keeping my voice low, I said, “You could have simply told me to be careful, like a normie, you psycho.”
My attempt to push him away threw me off balance. With an effort to save face, I took several clumsy steps back, transitioning it into a spin and heading to the bank.
The attempt to make it look intentional failed and my awkward maneuver was met with Cirrian’s poorly suppressed laughter.
Dismissing all thoughts of Cirrian and his comments about my life, I took a shaky breath and leaped onto the first stone. It wasn’t as sturdy as earlier and wobbled slightly under my weight. Then magic hummed in the air and there was a yellow radiance beneath the stones.
The second stone was worse. Its surface was slimy, making it difficult to keep my balance.
I was pulled into a strange game of leapfrog, with the sole purpose of just making it across the pond and preventing a face-to-face encounter with whatever was causing the increase in swirls and eddies in the water.
My heart pumped faster, and the compact Taser and stun gun tucked into my jacket brought no comfort.
Once I was secure on the third stone, the other stones started to slowly migrate away from my destination.
I risked a glance at Diehle, whose satisfied expression confirmed he was indeed the culprit.
The stepping stones continued to rearrange themselves, putting greater distances between them.
Diehl’s home was a house of mirages and tricks. I hated every bit of it.
I was reassessing my strategy when a soft, haunting melody started drifting across the water, winding around my mind like a silken thread. A tantalizing lure beckoned me to the water. I lowered to my knees, my mind gripped by a single focus: the insistent sound.
Just below the surface was a striking face, beautiful and terrible all at once with brilliant yellowish-brown eyes.
Its lips moved, forming words I couldn’t hear.
But something wove its way into my mind.
Beckoning me closer to the water. To peace.
Away from the chaos, despair, and impending doom. Promising a reprieve from the guilt.
The offer was hard to reject. I was flooded with oppressive, sullen emotions that I desperately wanted to escape. The face disappeared into the water as the melodic sound intensified, welcoming me to join it.
Amelia’s resting face slowly slipped from my thoughts, and all memories of her seemed to follow, becoming nothing but shadowy afterthoughts.
My heart slowed and my breathing became short and shallow.
A sense of calm fell over me. I eased toward the comfort of the extended translucent webbed fingers beckoning for me.
An excruciatingly sharp pain shot through my arm, stunning me into awareness.
I sucked in a sharp breath. The edge of Cirrian’s mark visible below my jacket sleeve illuminated before disappearing.
The thread that held my mind, influenced my emotions, snapped.
Adrenaline pumped through me. Steadying myself, I eased to standing and focused on the destined tree.
“You got this,” I muttered. Shaking off the lingering effects of the siren’s call, I looked over my shoulder at Cirrian, whose eyes were daggers stabbing into Diehle. The demon’s narrow-eyed focus remained on me, preventing him seeing the shadow god’s savage expression.