Chapter 33
The curse was moving. Magus magic now covered the reds and crimsons in the theater, having spread from the weapons squadron over the day. Spreading, but still inactive.
The curse covered the servants, too, which meant that the magus attack would already have made it down into the realm.
My dawn or her dawn?
Communicating through small children had its drawbacks. Evening in demon time was usually the early hours of the morning on Earth, though this altered over the course of the year by a few hours. But if she’d meant demon dawn, then they’d attack about midday on Earth.
My stomach lurched, and only complete trust in my sister kept me silent. Because the demons were my people and my subjects.
“Where is my sister?” Tyran asked.
“Not really your sister, though, right?” I replied. “I would guess that she’s with her mate. Or her mother. Scratch that, she wants to betray her mother. I lose track.”
Tyran was restless. I imagined that he’d expected some retaliation from the alliance by now. He’d visited Andie twice today and hadn’t released power either time—though there were other ways to hurt a person.
“Come,” Tyran said, standing.
He extended his forearm, and I did my queenly duty by curling my hand over his closed fist.
We walked out of the play, and once out in the hall, Tyran opened a small portal. Reaching through, he pulled out a crown and set it upon his head.
My mouth dried, but just as quickly, I realized that this crown was different. “New crown?”
“My other one was… misplaced.”
“And what is a king without a crown?” I murmured. “Just a regular demon.”
Shit. I had to check this crown and make sure he hadn’t transferred any white magic into it. There could be a reason Gratia’s dungeon trip had been such a breeze.
His lips curved, though he didn’t look at me. “Perhaps one day you will find out, as you hope to. I would like to negotiate.”
I feigned disbelief to cover my very real disbelief. “But I’m disloyal. Are you certain?”
His mouth twisted in distaste. “Sarcasm is beneath a queen.”
“Not this one. This one loves it. What do you want?”
“The Luther queen is not forthcoming,” he said. “I wish to know the plans of the supernatural alliance.”
I squinted at him. “And you chose the most loyal supernatural race to interrogate?”
Tyran’s jaw clenched. The guy didn’t like being accused of stupidity. I got it. If I was a tyrannical ruler who prided myself on my smarts, I’d feel insecure about mistakes too.
He said, “Here is my deal. Get her to talk, and I will enter the last ritual with you. I will also consider what we previously discussed—Carmine’s freedom—as a possibility again.”
“A possibility,” I remarked. “Sounds promising.”
“You must earn it, of course. Especially after your betrayal.”
“You won’t free Carmine,” I said. “And if that’s the case, then why would I give you more power by entering the last ritual?”
Tyran smiled, not looking at me. “Because you hope that will save him.”
He glanced at me then. “Isn’t that so? You hope the mating will loosen the hold I have over him.”
I mean, the dreams that Carmine and I shared were confirmation that the mating weakened his hold, along with Carmine’s ability to warn me through his feelings.
“How does the mating serve you?” I asked him.
My back hit the wall, and Tyran forced his knee between my thighs. He trailed his nose up my neck, and I turned my head from him, more than confident that I could blast him off the fucking peak if I chose to.
He inhaled. “Do you know what grows most stale in immortality? Real immortality? Lack of companionship. There is no one who knows who I am. No one from my time to speak with. I am surrounded by mindless imbeciles always. None of them with vision, all of them with limits. Weaker with each generation—a realm of pathetic demons who do not deserve the word.”
“Sounds like you need to retire.” Maybe I should remind him that Neti was still alive if he wished to chit-chat like it was the year one hundred?
He chuckled and shifted his knee against my core. “I will retire when my purpose is served. Only then.”
My body responded to him—to Carmine—but the undeniable spike of pleasure was soured by the evil controlling my mate’s body.
Carmine’s fury seeped into my heart.
Tyran gripped my chin and forced my gaze to his.
“But through him, I can feel you. You, who are aware of me—even if you work against me. That is something precious that you could not possibly fathom. You see me. When I triumph, you know that I have done so, not the face I wear. Syera, you could never compete with my purpose, for that must always remain our goal, but you have warmed my immortality. Surprisingly. I would be mated with you. I would have you by my side, even as an enemy. Just to feel again.”
A small breath left me as he shifted his knee again.
His lips curved. “And to watch you respond like this, for him, while you know it is me… to see you so hungry for any of his touch that you would allow it to come through me… I like to see a strong queen stripped of her dignity.” He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Would you like me to make you scream, my queen? It would be between us, and him. You could pretend.”
Carmine’s heartache panged in my chest, and I lifted my hands to the crown on Tyran’s head, sending a tiny tendril of my smoke into it. “You sound pathetic, Tyran.”
Anger flashed in his gray gaze.
I tried to keep the relief and triumph from mine.
The new crown didn’t hold any white magic, which meant his old crown had remained a backup source of white magic until the butyker ate and destroyed it.
Did I know whether the crown was destroyed?
Not with certainty, but it was no longer in Tyran’s hands.
He had less access to power. That felt like a tiny win. Thank you, Gratia.
“I won’t speak with the Luther,” I said. “If I wanted to enter another ritual with Carmine, then I certainly don’t after that revolting speech. You want friends?” I laughed shortly. “You expect me to believe that? Please.”
He smoothed his expression and put distance between us. My body wanted to wrench him back against me and find a solution for the ache low in my stomach.
“You do not wish to negotiate a ritual? Then how about dreams? I will return them to you—and allow you to sleep when I do. I am not present in your mating dreams.”
I frowned. “Why do you think Andie will say anything to me? She’ll know that you’re listening.”
“I want you to make her speak, no matter whether she wishes it or not.”
I stilled.
“Demon power cannot affect a Luther, and she has shown herself very resistant to pain. But—”
“I have magus power,” I replied woodenly.
What was more, I did wish to speak with Andie. I may be able to reach her through the pack bond. She could tell me more. “The dreams. They will be every night. My sleep is not to be disrupted or altered if you have a tantrum in a week over, however I may betray you.”
Tyran chuckled and seemed genuinely amused. “Do you seek to betray me in a week?”
More like tonight. “You know what I mean. You want a companion for immortality that sees you. Well, I do see you, and I fucking hate what I see. But you know that—you know that I am your enemy. So make allowance for that. Stop punishing me by stripping away previous agreements. If I’ve beaten you here and there, then that was possible because of your own inability to see what I might do.
This only works long-term if you control yourself. ”
Part of me couldn’t believe I had the audacity—or perhaps the desperation—to speak to Tyran like this.
He entertained the idea of me, but I was expendable.
Always expendable. Yes, perhaps I could escape.
Perhaps I could put up a good fight. Perhaps I could even win.
But my value depended on his belief in controlling my power.
If he lost that belief, then my value would suddenly and violently expire.
“Deal,” he said. “Your sleep will return to what it was, and I will not disrupt his sleep more than duty may demand from time to time. You will have your dreams. In return for information from the Luther, and only then.”
I dipped my head, and we stopped speaking as we reached the bottom of the stone steps leading to the royal bunkers. Ten soldiers lined the walls outside Andie’s room. I could hear her in there, rattling her chains and shifting position.
The soldiers straightened against the wall at the sight of their king and queen, and one of them stepped forward. “My king, the prisoner has not offered any information. Her requests for water have been denied, as you instructed.”
Tyran nodded. “Open the door. Leave us.”
He scrambled to do so, and I entered ahead of the monster. Andie lifted her head, and exhaustion filled her gaze.
“Andie,” I said. “I’m sorry to meet you this way.”
She smiled. “Not my favorite meeting place either.”
“You’re thirsty,” I said, then summoned a goblet of water.
Tyran sent me a sharp look, and when I glared, he responded with a shrug of one shoulder.
The chains on Andie’s wrists rattled as she grabbed at the cup and gulped back the contents.
“More,” she croaked.
I set the empty goblet aside. “There will be more when you give us the information we want.”
She peered over my shoulder at Tyran, and a wariness had entered her gaze when she returned her focus to me.
Did she wonder where my loyalties lay? I couldn’t blame her for doubting me at this point. I took her hands in mine, then stared into her eyes. I could only remember how Axel had forged an emergency bond with me. We’d been in a position where we had to trust one another.
Trust me, I beseeched her with my eyes alone. She had to trust, deep down, that I had her back.
Aware of Tyran behind me, I said, “You know this situation only goes away when you give us something. It’s not only you that you need to think about now.” I continued staring into her eyes, and Andie didn’t break her return stare.
But she replied, “And you know that a Luther will never betray her pack.”
Sy..ra?