25. Midas

CHAPTER 25

MIDAS

T empest growls at Puss, clearly pissed, but the cat only laughs at the sight of her anger. When Tempest lets off a long string of words in a different language, I blink at her. I have no idea what she says, but damn if it doesn't sound sexy as hell snarled between her teeth.

When Tempest goes to stand, I hold my hand on her shoulder to keep her seated. My leather gloves are tight on my hands after being in the salt water. They'll continue to shrink until they become uncomfortable. I'll have to find a way to stretch them back out soon or find another pair.

"It's alright," I tell Tempest before she can leap across the table. When she looks at me in confusion, I just smile. I hope my expression makes it known that I want her to trust me. I hope she trusts me a little more than she trusts this cat.

I turn to Puss who sits on the other side of the table calmly. "I'll give you my gold if you agree to let us walk out of here unharmed."

Puss straightens. "That's a deal I think we can make." He leans in. "But it has to be all the gold."

I know my eyes are probably twinkling at the turn of events. I knew it was probably a bad idea to come in here, but then again, I wasn't expecting someone to know Tempest. I should have known better. She's been thrown from world to world for a while now. I'm starting to realize her frustration with everything. She's handled it pretty well so far.

When I stand up, everyone in the room tenses, but I only smile at Puss. "If we're making a deal, we should shake on it, should we not?" I ask, before pulling my glove off and flexing my fingers. "Man to man, er. . . cat. We give you my gold. We get to leave unharmed."

Puss stares down at my fingers, his brows furrowing when he sees the gold flashing there. The tips of my fingers bely my curse, and while Tempest doesn't know that, Puss seems to have an inkling of suspicion.

"What's the matter?" I ask. "Cat got your tongue?"

Puss looks up at me, his eyes narrowing. He looks over at Tempest again, the tension in his shoulders heavy. "What did you say your name was again?" he asks me.

"I didn't," I answer, the corners of my eyes crinkling. Ah, so he's not as stupid as I thought he might be. Good to know.

The man to my left pulls his sword from his scabbard and eases closer. I don't move, knowing there's no need to. Not yet. More weapons are pulled. Tempest's hand touches my elbow in worry. I'm careful to keep my exposed hand away from her, made sure I chose to remove the glove from the opposite side that she's on. I can't risk her getting in the way, so I have to keep an eye on her as well. I know what she's trying to say by catching my attention with her touch. She's wondering if this is a good idea or not.

I hope she doesn't think less of me after this. I'd really like to kiss her again.

"So, say your name then," Puss commands, his eyes on me.

I laugh. "I thought you might be a bit dense, blaming Tempest for being stuck here. Though I can't blame you. I thought she controlled it at first, as well. Come to find out, she's as helpless to it as the rest of us." My hand still lingers between us, waiting for him to shake it. "If you're looking for a name to call me, you can choose one of many. Your Majesty. King. God." I lean in. "But most people, they just call me . . . Midas."

On cue, the man on my right leaps forward, planning to gut me where I stand. Apparently, they hadn't planned to keep their part of the deal after all. I figured as much, but we're not as helpless as they assume.

"No! Wait!" Puss shouts. But it's too late to stop the man.

I barely move. My hand goes from hanging in the air between us to reaching out to my right. I don't do anything other than hold my palm up. The man's chest touches my golden fingertips and stops. He looks down at my touch in surprise.

And then the gold starts to spread outward from my touch. As it always does. I've seen it happen so many times, I'm immune to the horror of it. The man begins to scream, and the tavern falls into absolute silence. His screams fill the room, and the other men stumble back, staring in surprise as their crew mate screams and screams as he slowly turns to gold. The scream cuts off with a strangled choking sound when it reaches his neck, and then it crawls over his eyes, setting his look of fear in a forever sculpture. It'll never change. He'll never breathe again. There's no cure for my golden touch.

Even if I wish there were.

I glance over at Tempest. She's standing beside me, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide in horror.

"Midas," she rasps. "What. . ."

"Later," I say. "I'll explain later."

She nods warily and together, we both look at Puss expectantly, before the tavern bursts into absolute chaos.