Chapter Three Zephyra #3
At the mention of his most vicious rival, he growls.
His eye darkens further, an endless pool of obsidian night.
“You’re toying with the wrong fucking gang.
” He inches closer. I step back, knocking into a wall of muscle.
One of his men breathes down my neck. “Do you know how many men I have hidden in the shadows?”
Fuck. I force my breathing to remain even.
Force my face to remain emotionless. “Do you know how many men I’ve killed?
” I tiptoe forward, evading whichever men leer behind me.
“I’ll add to those numbers if I have to, but I would rather not.
I came to you for a reason, Magnus. I’ve loot like you couldn’t believe. ”
“You want me to pay you so I can fence dead-noble jewels?” Magnus deduces the truth way too easily, and my stomach starts churning anew. “Doesn’t sound like a great deal to me. Like I said, the king isn’t messing around. The wrong person catches a whiff of this, and we’re all good as dead.”
My jaw clenches tight as I breathe through the panic.
Every bone begs me to turn, to escape, but this is the only way out.
“Melt down the metals and break up the stones.” I pull out a ruby anklet, a pair of diamond earrings, and the emerald necklace, adding them to my open palm where the bracelet continues to glisten.
Magnus’s green eye snags on it. The veins in his pale neck throb.
“I know you have connections inside and outside the palace. No one else can fence these.”
He swallows. His throat bobs. I close my fist around the jewels, and he frowns.
When he glances up and meets my gaze again, I realize I’ve made a mistake. I’ve walked into the lion’s den, slathered myself in butter, and dived straight into its gaping maw. He knows what I’ve got. He also knows he’s the only one aware of it. I’m a merrow; I won’t be missed if I’m dead.
His hand flexes, and he smirks.
Shit.
He’s going to reach for his dagger—but he doesn’t need to kill me himself.
He has men everywhere. Bigger men, scarier men.
Shit, shit, shit. Quick as I can, I lash out, and my foot collides with the bottom of his pocket to unsheathe his dagger.
It flies up. Out. Magnus reaches for it, but I’m faster.
Shoving him out of the way with my shoulder, I manage to snag the dagger by its blade.
Blood wells on my palm, but I spin it around and hoist the dagger in front of me.
Magnus swipes a loose lock of brown hair away from his face with a scowl. “You can’t think one tiny blade will protect you from the Leones.”
Slowly, his men seep from the shadows. I glance around wildly, but they surround me on all sides. I won’t just need to outrun them; I’ll need to go through them. Fight them. One blade against fifteen men.
Yet again—I’m fucked.
I shake out my pink waves, allowing each of my new adversaries to glimpse the merrow color.
A few stumble back instantly while others lower their spears, if only by an inch or two.
I smile sweetly, though terror clenches my gut in a feral sort of grip.
“Magnus, love, do you really think a blade is my sole weapon? Are you forgetting what happened mere nights ago?”
He cocks a calculated brow. “Are you insinuating that you are one of the sirens who slaughtered the king’s court?”
“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you that I am not afraid to make you gouge out your cheek with your own nails.”
His gaze widens. Whatever he knows, whatever his spies have told him, it must line up with the bloody evidence I found in the tomb. That woman with the wolf mask who died horribly.
“There… there were only three,” Magnus says, sliding back a step. His other men mimic the slight retreat.
“Were there? Are you willing to stake your life on it?” I open my other hand to flash the jewels again, and he flinches.
I shiver with delight. With control. Goddess-damned humans.
“How else did I get these?” I ask, moving forward and forcing him backward.
He trips over his own feet, almost falling on his ass, graceless as a fish flopping around on a dock.
The great Magnus of the Leones, reduced to a trembling boy in the face of a single merrow.
I laugh at that, and before he can speak, before I can accidentally stumble over a lie and reveal the truth, I lower my voice and demand, “I want one of your carriages, and I want safe passage to Lucia over the shorewall. I want a driver, enough food for the journey, and I swear if there’s even a hint of funny business, I will sing everyone to death, just like I did to the king’s court.
Consider the jewels payment after I make it safely. ”
He stares at me. The other men stare at me. Shock, horror, and hunger play out like a melody across their faces, each note plucked from their most basic fears. They need to feed and shelter themselves. They need coin. Even if it means working with a mermaid.
Magnus meets my gaze with a nod, and victory pricks my skin. Warm air blows waves away from my face.
I did it. I finally fucking—
The wind picks up in a constant rhythm, ominous and supernatural, and the men glance up. Their mouths fall open. They run before they can utter a single scream. Even Magnus, who throws himself inside the Leones’ headquarters, doesn’t look back once.
“Interesting story, mermaid,” a strange, rough voice says from above. My heart skids to a halt. I look up—and my heart falls through my chest. Somehow this is worse. So much worse than anything else that’s happened this evening.
Massive white wings tipped in gold splay out behind a large, muscular man, magic sparking on his fingertips in dangerous blue flames. I force myself to remain standing, to level my knife in his direction and glare. It’s all I can do to keep from screaming because I—
I’m as good as dead.