Chapter Seven #2
Now there she was, in the council chambers of her father’s oldest friend, with the man who had tortured her a few days prior holding a knife to her flesh once again.
Much to her embarrassment, Solana’s hand shook.
She couldn’t help the surge of painful anticipation that filled her body at his proximity.
With every blink, she saw him looming over her, his hands covered in blood, his voice unchanging as he said the same words over her screaming and pathetic whimpers.
How did you control them?
Who do you work for?
You’re even more of a coward than I thought.
Her heart clawed at the cage of her chest. Reyes firmly grabbed her pointer finger, and finally his eyes left hers. She watched as they narrowed, and then his hand was moving over hers until he pressed the point of the small blade against the tip of her ring finger instead.
“Do you, Solana Grey,” he started, “agree to enter into a blood oath with King Killian Valentes IV, to serve as his Royal Demon Hunter for the duration of half a year or until he has decided that your services are no longer required?”
Solana jerked her hand back. “Provided that the term does not extend further than the six months previously agreed upon.”
“Provided that the term does not extend further than the six months previously agreed upon,” Reyes repeated. Gently, he tugged her hand back and met her eyes once again. Solana could have sworn she saw the shine of appreciation in them. “And you agree to this of your own free will?”
“I do,” Solana said, proud of the way her voice rang firm and clear in the small room.
Reyes pressed the knife into her fingertip and drew a single drop of blood that he caught in a small vial like the one that he’d used to pour poison into her wounds.
The blood rolled over the lip of the vial and down the clear side like a red tear streak.
The words Reyes spoke to Solana were repeated to the king.
He responded with a solemn, “I do,” and then he pricked his own finger with a blade that popped out of the ornate ring he wore.
Solana could have sworn she saw a flash of purple as their blood combined in the vial before it was whisked out of sight and into the pocket of his pants.
“Now that that’s out of the way.” King Killian leaned over and planted two hands on the surface of the table.
“You work for me and only me. You will kill no demons”—the king put his hand up to halt her argument—“except in the most dire circumstances of self-defense, and even then, only under the orders of Reyes.”
“Me?” Reyes asked, his tone the most uncertain she had ever heard it. “You have me going back to Iques tomorrow. I’m not—”
“And she’ll be joining you,” King Killian interrupted. “From now on, you’ll be working together.”
Solana whipped back to the king. “I don’t work with anyone,” she said at the same time Reyes practically shouted, “You can’t be serious.”
“Be careful,” the king warned softly. “You forget who you are.” He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. “This is not up for debate. You won’t ask questions, and you won’t cause problems. You stay the course, and in six months’ time, you’ll be free.”
“What do you consider a problem?” Solana blithely asked. Reyes let out a puff of disbelief. “I just want to understand these terms as best as possible.”
“She is the problem,” Reyes said, pointing a finger at her. “She won’t take this seriously, and her callous disregard for rules and other people is going to get my team killed.”
“If that’s all it takes to get your team killed, then you most certainly need my help,” Solana murmured.
“You’ll live here in the castle and you’ll comport yourself in the manner of my court.
You’ll remember that demons were once people, your people, and you will abide by the laws of this land.
” King Killian spoke over them, his voice demanding attention.
“A uniform and Masters badge will be provided for you.”
“Your Majesty, please—”
The king raised his hand to cut off Reyes’s plea without so much as glancing at him. “You’ll receive room and board, plus a weekly stipend of three hundred ilyas,” he said to Solana.
She gasped and then choked on her own spit, her hacking coughs rattling her words. “Three hundred ilyas?” It was more money than she had made in an entire year in Qhilli. More money than any one person needed.
“If you abandon your post, you will owe the remainder of your salary to the crown. If you die, your reserves can be bequeathed to your next of kin.”
Sami could be her next of kin—not that she intended to die, but there was comfort in knowing that his family could find peace in the event of her death.
Suddenly, accepting this position was the best thing she had ever done, regardless of the danger it introduced.
No longer would she have to bear the burden of killing muki and the emotional onslaught that followed.
It wasn’t a choice she would have to make.
“This will change your life, Solana,” the king said, as if reading her mind, as if she wasn’t incredibly aware of the fact. Then he placed her dagger in the center of the table.
Solana used all her mental strength to resist lunging for it.
Instead, she demurely leaned over the table and pinched the pommel of the dagger with two fingers, dragging it across the wood and safely into her hand.
Her palm sung with relief at the familiar heft of it.
She felt whole again, more like herself. Ready to face whatever came next.
“Reyes, be sure that she sees her friend leave the castle grounds on his own two feet and then escort her to her rooms.” The king strode toward the door to the council chambers but turned back with one hand on the latch. “Don’t make me regret this,” he said somberly.
Solana smiled wide. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then he left her alone with her ex-torturer and new partner.