Dark Harmony (The Bargainer Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Glossary

  This is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Published in the United States by Lavabrook Publishing, LLC.

  dark harmony. Copyright © 2018 by Laura Thalassa

  www.laurathalassa.com

  Cover by Yonderwordly

  design.yonderwordly.com

  All rights reserved.

  For those who dream—

  Keep at your magic.

  “Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.”

  —William Shakespeare, Macbeth

  Chapter 1

  I stare down at my hands for the fiftieth time since Des and I returned from the Flora Kingdom, looking for something that indicates that I’m different. Changed.

  Immortal.

  I press my palm to my heart. Beneath the steady thump of it, I feel something else. Something magical and mysterious.

  Something that wasn’t there just days ago.

  My connection to Des thrums beneath my touch like a second heartbeat, the two us now magically bound together.

  I slide him a coy glance.

  Des sits along a thick stone railing, his back resting against one of the columns bolted into the rocky island above us. The two of us linger on the lowest balcony of Somnia, one of the six floating islands of the Night Kingdom and the capitol of the Bargainer’s realm.

  “I’m angry at you, you know,” I say, though there’s no venom to the words.

  The Bargainer’s eyes are closed, his head tipped back against the column.

  “I know.”

  I watch him as he sits on the very edge of the world, the dark night beyond him. In the distance, I can hear the chittering laughter of pixies riding the evening wind.

  “You never asked me if I wanted to live forever.” My voice catches on that last word.

  Technically, I’m not going to live forever, but it might as well be that long. Thanks to the lilac wine Des fed me, I’m now looking at a solid four hundred years of life—if not more.

  What will the earth look like by the time I actually kick the bucket? How about the Otherworld?

  Need to talk to Temper about how freaking long fairy lifespans are.

  The Bargainer’s eyes open, his glittering silver gaze looking fearsome and fae.

  He gives me a hint of a smile, though there’s no humor in it. “Cherub, you seem to be forgetting the fact that you were dying at the time.”

  I was dying, and he was unwilling to let me go.

  He reaches a hand out to me, and his magic tugs me towards him. I frown as I’m ushered to his side.

  Des taps my mouth. “Tell me, Callie,” he says, his voice is like honeyed wine as his hands fall to my waist, “don’t you want to spend more than just a few decades with me?”

  Of course I do. That’s beside the point.

  I’m upset that I never got a chance to decide my fate for myself. And now the future looms endlessly ahead of me.

  Des lifts his inked arm into the air. Out of the night, a luminescent blue smoke coalesces, solidifying more and more as it snakes its way to the Bargainer’s hand. By the time it reaches his palm, it’s a glowing cord. I’ve seen this stuff before—spun moonlight.

  The Bargainer manipulates it in his hand, working the eerie substance until it’s not just a cord, but an elaborate necklace.

  I narrow my eyes as he brings the unearthly jewelry to my throat.

  “That’s not fair,” I say as he clasps it behind my neck, even as my fingertips reach for the necklace. “You can’t just pull one of your pretty fairy tricks and buy out my forgiveness.”

  But he can, and he has, and he will do so again. These neat little tricks of his have made me forgive a lot.

  The Bargainer turns on his perch so that his legs straddle mine. He pulls me in close, my hips fitting snugly between his thighs. “My pretty fairy tricks are what you like best about me,” he says, his lips skimming my mouth as he talks. His gaze drops to my lips. “Well, that and my di—”

  “Des.”

  He laughs against my skin, his warm breath drawing out my gooseflesh. Slowly, the laughter dies from his features. “I lost you once, Callie,” he says, “and those seven years nearly killed me. I don’t intend to lose you again.”

  My gut clenches at the memory. Even now I can feel the ache of his absence; it was a wound that never healed.

  Des presses a hand to my heart, “Besides—is this not worth it?”

  He doesn’t need to elaborate on what this is.

  Beneath his palm, I feel the warmth of Des’s presence—not just against my skin, but within me. It feels like I’m being kissed by pale moonlight, like the stars and the deep night rest under my skin, and I know that makes no sense, but there it is.

  His magic even has a sound. It’s a low melody, the faint notes just beyond my reach. It makes me feel the same breathless excitement I used to feel at Peel Academy when evening was coming and Des was coming with it.

  We were once mates separated by worlds and magic. Separated no longer, thanks to the lilac wine.

  There are other perks that came with the wine. I now have the ability to make my claws and scales and wings appear and disappear at will. And I can sense fae magic in a way I never could before.

  Of course, there are drawbacks too—fairy gifts always have drawbacks.

  I’m still coming for you. Your life is mine.

  The Bargainer catches my wrist, examining my bare forearm.

  “Three hundred and twenty-two favors—a lifetime’s worth,” he murmurs.

  I follow his gaze. It’s weird looking down and not seeing the Bargainer’s bracelet. The skin there is paler than the rest, and I admit, my arm feels naked without the weight of all those black beads. I’d worn that bracelet every day for nearly eight years … and overnight it disappeared.

  It was a lifetime’s worth of beads, but in the end, it was even more than that—it was a life’s worth. Those beads brought me back from the edge of death. And now I have to wonder if from the very beginning Des’s magic somehow knew it would come to this. If all that debt and all those years of waiting were its way of gathering magic so tha
t one day it could prevent my untimely death.

  Or maybe I just got really, really lucky.

  I lower my wrist so that I can look the Night King in the eye. “Anger aside—thank you.” My words come out rough.

  Thank you is a pitifully small show of gratitude for what Des did. Because, in the end, he saved me. Again.

  For once I’d like to return the favor.

  Des’s hand tightens around my forearm, and he brings my wrist to his lips and presses a kiss there. “Does this mean you forgive me for the lilac wine?”

  “Don’t push your luck, fairy boy.”

  “Cherub, hasn’t anyone told you? Getting what I want has nothing to do with luck. I deal in favors.”

  Chapter 2

  “Not a slave anymore, I see.”

  My shoulders hike up at that voice.

  That voice.

  Last time I heard it, I was in the Flora Queen’s sacred oak forest, my life bleeding out of me. And now it’s at my back.

  “We meet again, enchantress,” the Thief of Souls says.

  I feel the monster’s fingertips trail like velvet up my arm.

  “Your wings are gone—” He leans in and breathes me in, “and is that fae magic I smell? Could it be that the mighty Night King gave you the lilac wine?”

  “Don’t act like you’re surprised,” I say.

  The Thief had deliberately orchestrated a situation where I’d drink the wine and become fae, all so that his power could hold dominion over mine. Before then, his magic didn’t work on me, just as it didn’t for all humans.

  “What can I say?” he responds. “Fairies in love can be terribly predictable, I’m afraid.”

  The Thief comes around to my front, and I finally get a good look at him.

  He’s as I remember him from my dreams and that brief moment in the woods. Jet black hair, inky, upturned eyes, pouty mouth, alabaster skin.

  Like all the other fairies I’ve met, he’s beautiful. Almost unbearably so. Not for the first time, I wish that evil looked as it should.

  I step away from his touch. The night shrouds us on all sides, but even in the darkness I can make out the twisted oaks that surround me.

  My stomach drops. I’m back in Mara Verdana’s sacred oak forest.

  Could’ve sworn I’d left this place.

  Off in the distance, I can hear the faint notes of a fiddle and the snap and crackle of a bonfire. The smell of wood smoke carries on the breeze. There’s something under the smell, a scent that’s somewhat sweet. If only I could place it …

  The Thief of Souls walks over to a tree, his boot scuffing a root. “This, I believe, is where you fucked the Night King.”

  I feel bile rise up my throat.

  Jesus. Had he watched us?

  His gaze meets mine. “How do I know that?” He glances at the tree trunk again. The normally rough bark is coated in a slick substance. “I have eyes everywhere.”

  As I watch, the Thief presses a hand to the glistening bark. Within seconds, whatever coats the tree trunk now spills onto the Thief’s hand, the dark rivulets snaking between his fingers and down his wrist.

  And now I place that strange scent.

  Blood.

  It drips from the tree the Thief touches, and now it’s smeared across his hand.

  The Thief gives me a small smile, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

  I begin to hear the slow patter of rain. Only—I’m not sure it’s rain that’s dripping from the trees’ boughs.

  As I watch, the oak in front of me starts to groan and tremble.

  The Thief eyes me up and down. “Fae magic suits you well, enchantress. I confess that I’m eager to see how it interacts with my own.”

  Around me, the trees crack and splinter, making wet, popping noises.

  One by one, the trunks peel open like banana skins. Nestled inside each is a sleeping soldier, all of them still as death. Blood oozes down their skin and drips from their tattered clothes.

  The oak next to the Thief ruptures, revealing a bronze-skinned fairy. The Thief touches the soldier’s cheek, and for an instant, his face morphs into that of the sleeping man. Then the illusion is gone, and he’s himself once more.

  I shudder.

  “I’ve been waiting awhile for this day to come,” he says distractedly, still staring at the soldier. He drops his hand and turns his full attention to me. “Tell me, enchantress, can you make a man—any man—fall in love with you? Not just enchant them for a time, but truly conquer their hearts?”

  My skin’s pricking.

  The Thief leaves the soldier’s side, pacing towards me. Around us, the sound of wood splintering and blood dripping swells until I feel l might go mad.

  All at once, the woods fall eerily silent.

  Without warning, my siren flares to life, triggered by some pressing, unknown fear. My skin brightens, illuminating the Thief’s face in the dark night.

  His eyes take on a fascinated sheen. “Yes,” he says, almost to himself, “I bet you could.” He closes the distance between us. “I do miss the days when I thought you a simple slave. Perhaps when you are mine, I’ll pretend you still are one.” He catches one of my wrists. “You’ll wear metal cuffs and a collar like the slaves of old. And then you’ll be my enslaved enchantress, and together we’ll see just how close you can come to making someone like me feel affection.”

  He dares to threaten us? Never again will we fall under his yoke.

  “I hope you can manage it,” he continues, “more for your sake than mine. I’m not known for being gentle with my playthings. Just ask Mara.”

  I stare at him for a long moment, my claws sharpening, barely staying my siren’s violent tendencies. Then, all at once, I release my hold on her.

  My free hand moves almost without my noticing it. I strike, swiping at his face. My claw tips tear open the skin of his cheek in four evenly spaced lines.

  Almost immediately, blood begins to drip from the wounds.

  The Thief looks amused.

  I don’t get any warning before he throws me against the tree he’d been toeing only minutes before.

  I let out an angry shout as I hit the bloody trunk, my chest pressed up against the sleeping soldier, my eyes staring at the man’s bloody face. Behind me, the Thief pins me in.

  “Normally I like my women docile,” he whispers against my ear, “but you—you I’ll enjoy fighting. Breaking.”

  His words are decidedly sexual, and I remember all those female soldiers and the children he’d forced upon them.

  I grit my teeth, my nails digging into the tree trunk.

  Never, my siren vows. We will kill him first, and we will relish it.

  I hear a moan on the wind, and the trees shiver, their leaves beginning to fall from the branches like tears.

  In front of me, the soldier’s eyes snap open.

  Oh, shit.

  The Thief leans into my ear again, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “Enjoy the carnage. I do hope you survive it …”

  The screams rip me from sleep.

  I jerk up in bed, wide awake in an instant, my breath coming in startled gasps.

  Not in the queen’s oak forest. Not pinned to a rotting tree.

  Not in the Thief’s clutches.

  The dim lamps hanging above me illuminate the Bargainer’s Otherworld chambers.

  I’m safe. For now.

  The screams filter back through my awareness.

  Then again …

  Des stands at the foot of the bed, his talon-tipped wings spread out, looking like one of hell’s angels as he stares at a point above my head. I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there.

  My eyes meet his as more shrieks vibrate through the bones of the castle. There’s something about the sound … like it’s one voice coming through many mouths.

  I remember my dream, the male soldier’s eyes opening. Something cold skitters up my spine.

  There are no sleeping men here in the Night Kingdom, I try to reas
sure myself. And it’s true, there are no sleeping men here in Somnia. But a thousand feet beneath us an army’s worth of women lay sleeping.

  The screams filter in through my thoughts.

  At least, the women were sleeping.

  I’m pretty goddamn sure they’re now awake.

  Chapter 3

  All at once the screams cut off, and the silence that follows is somehow even more ominous.

  What in all the worlds … ?

  Des and I are still staring at each other. One second passes, then two, three, four. It’s so terribly quiet.

  Perhaps I imagined it all.

  But then a wave of shrieks start up, trickling in like the beginnings of a storm. First it’s a single alarmed shout, then another, and then it’s several. They sound so very far away.

  The Bargainer closes his eyes for several seconds, as though the sound pains him deep. “What are the chances I could persuade you to hide somewhere safe?” he asks, opening his eyes, his voice silken.

  Hide somewhere safe? What exactly does he think is going to happen?

  I kick my sheets off, swinging my legs out of bed.

  “Zero,” I say.

  His throat works. “I can’t lose you, cherub.” For a moment, the crafty Bargainer’s pain is transparent. “Not again.”

  I can still see his face as I slipped into that final darkness.

  You are not leaving me, Callie.

  It’s still so fresh.

  Des shutters his expression, the softness dissipating from it as though it never was.

  Black battle leathers materialize next to me. I stare at them, my mind racing to catch up with the situation.

  “You remember your training?” Des’s voice doesn’t sound quite right. It’s not mocking or teasing. He sounds far too serious.

  There’s only one reason he’d think to ask me that.

  We’re going to have to kick some ass.

  I nod.

  “Good.” He stands, his brows furrowed as he takes me in. “If I can’t hide you, I will simply have to unleash you.”

  Unleash me—said like I’m an unstoppable force. Me thinks he might believe in me a tad too much.

  More screams filter in from the depths of the island, near where the sleeping women have been left to rest. In my mind’s eye I can still see those soldiers in their glass coffins, each one buried with a weapon.