Chapter 9 #3
Chaos. Discord and ambition, desire and madness.
And as the physical manifestation of all that was tumultuous charged toward my table, I suddenly wondered if I’d thought this scheme through.
The female gang of outlaws came to blows as he passed, an elderly man bursting into tears as he pulled a gold coin from a loaf of bread.
Raksh didn’t seem to notice, his furious stare set firmly on mine.
My estranged husband looked torn between throttling me and taking me on the table, and I cursed myself for how quickly my baser instincts contemplated the merits of the latter.
But he made no attempt to seize me, instead stopping a pace away, drawing up to his full height and ruffling in his finery like one of those obnoxious male birds parading their colorful feathers to a disinterested female.
“Am I permitted to sit or have you lined the cushion with rusty nails?” he challenged. “Perhaps there is another meteor blade hidden up your sleeve? You seem damnably determined to kill me so maybe I should start taking precautions in your presence.”
“If only it were so easy.” I glanced up and down his body.
Raksh’s human form looked as though he’d been crafted solely to allure, and he typically tended toward garments so scarce they risked falling off at any moment.
It was strange to see him covered and yet even these clothes flattered him, as though the sun had taken form, winding and clinging to his body like a lover.
Not a helpful image, Amina. Chiding myself, I set my gaze on Raksh’s face, refusing to let it dip lower. “Why are you dressed like a prince on the run?”
He sniffed, sounding insulted. “Maybe I like these clothes. Maybe I was trying something new, after someone threw me off their ship . . . again.”
The bastard sounded genuinely hurt. “Something new? Then why did you have me dragged back to you?”
“I am not the one who sent an assassin after the other! I was minding my own business! Meeting new people, entertaining new prospects!”
“New prospects?” I hissed. “Is that what you call it? I have peris landing on my roof in the middle of the night, squawking about you and your new prospects!”
“So divorce me!”
It takes a fair amount to raise eyebrows in Sarilaglag, but it was impossible to ignore that our hushed argument was drawing attention. From across the meetinghouse, the barman was staring at us, his dark eyes flitting between me and Raksh.
I reached out, snagging my spouse by the silks and dragging him to sit beside me. “Keep your voice down.” I glanced at the door, but Raksh had arrived alone. “And tell me what the hell is going on. Is Dalila alive?”
He bristled. “I do not work for you.”
“You have never worked for anyone but yourself a single day in a thousand years. Is Dalila alive?”
Glowering, he pulled an object from his belt and tossed it on the table. It was my meteor blade, the one Dalila had stolen.
“Recognize that?” he accused. “For I certainly did when your friend attempted to assassinate me with it, an act she should be grateful I did not return by breaking her neck.”
“No, you just sold her out to her enemies.”
“Beg pardon: I am the reason Dalila is still alive and unharmed.” When I opened my mouth, he held up a silencing hand.
“Your Mistress of Poisons made a grave error in coming after me. I might care little for mortal grievances, but I have been hunting in crowded waters, and she foolishly caught the attention of far more determined predators.”
Oh, Dalila. I took a deep breath, still trying to work out what sort of game Raksh was playing. “You’ve kept her safe? How?”
Raksh gave me a look that suddenly seemed much older. Colder. “I am the master of fortunes, Amina. Both good and ill. If I find the former more exciting and more . . . satisfying, that does not mean the latter don’t have their place.”
A chill ran down my spine. “Why?” I asked. “Why would you help her?”
“Maybe I was keeping my options open.” Raksh seemed to study me, an expression I couldn’t read simmering in his black eyes.
“You know . . . I was looking for an end to this. To us. The little pet I plucked from the sea was so promising. I was even in talks with a rabbi over the best way to divorce you.”
“A rabbi?”
“Yes. Did you believe I would stay trapped in our foul marriage pact forever?”
I pinched my brow. “What religion do you think I practice, Raksh? The one in which you were married. Name it, please.”
He drew back as though suspecting a trick.
“You’re a Mandaean. Or some sort of Matsu acolyte.
” When I sighed, frustration bloomed in his face.
“It matters not! Your venomous companion got my newest mark killed in a melee. Another opportunity, once again ruined by those in the orbit of Amina al-Sirafi.”
Lab’s escapee was dead? By God, maybe no one truly did escape her, fate intervening even if someone slipped her clutches. But callous as it was, I set the man’s fate aside. I had come for Dalila and it felt like this conversation had just taken a dangerous turn.
“Speak plainly, Raksh,” I challenged. “First you claim to be helping Dalila and now you sound as though it is vengeance you seek.”
Raksh laughed. “I care nothing for vengeance, wife. That is a human vice.” He leaned closer, a handbreadth away from me. “You said the peris came to you? Are you hunting another Transgression?”
Intrigue radiated from his voice, thick as a spell and I found myself tripping over the words I tried to deny him. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“Doesn’t it?” Before I could respond, his hand darted out to clasp my wrist.
Magic surged through my already agitated blood.
I should have thrown Raksh across the room, headbutted him over the table, but I seemed unable to budge.
Instead I shivered madly, the cup in my hand shaking so violently that half the drink spilled out.
I could feel the bitterness of the arguing forgers, the dreamy, terrifying ambition of an arsonist at the next table.
Raksh trailed his fingers down my arm, and when he met my gaze again, through the dark curtain of his long lashes, crimson power glimmered in his eyes. It was the gaze of the chaos spirit when he fed upon ambition, and he exhaled, a long messy sigh like one once starved and now gorged.
“I’d forgotten how good this feels,” he murmured, his breath warm upon my neck as though a lover whispering endearment. But it was no sweet flattery Raksh spoke into my ear. “You came here with a plot.”
I gritted my teeth against the power boiling in my veins. I wanted to release it. To turn over the tavern and rip through every member of the Banu Sasan. “Let me go.”
“Let me help. Take the offer I made last we met. I can taste your fear, sense you struggling to fight your new gifts, to deny and delay what you might become.”
I jerked free, gasping as the magic receded. “I don’t need you to become a legend.”
Raksh sat back with a weary sigh. “No, but you will need me to survive becoming a legend,” he warned. “You are hunting a Transgression for the peris, aren’t you?” When I said nothing, his gaze grew even more knowing. “They will betray the deal you made with them if they can.”
“Says one who lives and breathes deception.”
“Says one who has tangled with them longer than humanity has been building cities.” Raksh clucked his tongue.
“You believe me a fool, ignorant of mortal custom, and yet you remain steadfast in refusing the one being willing to guide you through the magical world. Come back to me. Together we would be so powerful that you need not fear for your friend.”
Temptation stalked me, it was undeniable.
I had not survived this long by choosing honor over effectiveness, and I had no doubt with Raksh by my side, I stood a better chance of walking out of this meetinghouse with Dalila as well.
For I had indeed come here with a plot. A plot that as of yet showed no promise.
He reached out again, clearly detecting my uncertainty, and entwined his fingers in mine. “Come,” he continued, his voice a playful purr. “You know you don’t entirely despise me. You made that plenty clear last time I was on your ship.”
Now it was a different sort of temptation sending heat into my cheeks. “I am not here for you, Raksh,” I retorted, jerking my hand back. “I am here for Dalila. Where is she?”
“Safe. I swear it. She and her sheikh will be along shortly. I insisted upon meeting you first.”
“How kind for your partner to allow such a thing.”
His expression flared. “He is not my partner. I told you: I kept Dalila safe—”
“Did you? Then help me understand how that letter ended up in my hands.”
Raksh frowned. “How I am to understand how communications work amongst mortals? A . . . ship? Birds?”
“I am not talking about couriers, you bastard.” I seethed, speaking more plainly: “Dalila would have never given me up. Never in a thousand years divulged Jamal’s residence. So how did the Banu Sasan know I was there?”
He hesitated and any doubt I might have reserved crumbled.
“I still remember that night on the beach,” I said more softly.
“When we first met and you ripped through my mind. Because you are ignorant of the human world. If you weren’t, you could have hunted me directly.
It would have been faster, simpler. However, you needed help; help to turn your magical impressions into a specific location.
How fortunate, then, for you to have come upon a man with such vast criminal connections. ”
Give my spouse some credit, he knew when a game had run its course. “So I took advantage of a situation while helping someone!” Raksh argued. “I’m learning!”
I seized the dagger. “Go to hell, Raksh. Because if Dalila and I get out of this newest trap in which you’ve ensnared me, you best be far away.”
“Oh, my . . . is the marital reunion not going well?”
The voice was new, amused, and so unexpected that I flew to my feet, holding the meteor blade.