Calias

CALIAS

“She is mine.”

My voice, when I speak, is low and rumbling. But to me, it feels like every person in the market can hear me.

I turn to look at Dhymhi, and my rage and dangerous obsession must show on my face, because he takes an involuntary step back and his eyes widen.

All I can see is her. Even when I’m turned away from her, all I can see are her blue eyes.

I take a deep breath, and Dhymhi gives a cautious smile before he opens his mouth to speak.

I realize when he does speak that I have never heard the gorgon sound afraid before.

“.” His voice is as cautious as the smile on his face. “I’m sure you’ll have her, but you need to calm down. You’re looking a little crazy here.”

I notice then that the people around us are giving us space. When I look down, I see that my hands are curled into fists, and the deep rumbling that I am hearing is coming from me.

“I need her.”

The words come out of me almost reluctantly.

But it is the truth. She is mine and I need her.

I haven’t needed anyone for a long time, although my housekeeper, Nesria, would disagree.

I learned when I was very young that reliance is a curse and dependence is a death sentence.

I learned it, watching my mother become an alcohol-fueled sap, all because she relied on my father to be the perfect partner she needed.

I learned it, after realizing that my mother couldn’t give my father what he needed, and I learned it even more, after watching my father chase any woman willing to fuck him just to get out of the house.

I haven’t needed anyone for a long time.

Until now.

“Okay, let’s find out who she is and how much she costs.” Dhymhi speaks as reassuringly as he can and places a light hand on my shoulder before he steers me to the table close to the cage that holds the human women.

“Good day!” A xaphan looks up and greets us cheerily, although there is a dark twinkle in his eyes that I don’t believe bodes well. “Would you like to see my wares? We’ve got a lot of pretty young things available, perfect for doing work that your servants refuse to do! My name is Chamuel, by the way!”

“How much is she?” I do not bother with introductions. All I do is point at the human woman – my human woman.

Chamuel looks slightly surprised at the woman I have selected.

“Her name is Vanessa, but are you sure she is who you want? I am sure that an esteemed demon such as yourself would want someone more… able-bodied.”

I let out a low growl at the sarcasm in Chamuel’s voice on the words ‘esteemed demon,’ and his eyes go wide with fright.

“.” Dhymhi places a placating hand on my lower arm, and I seem to snap back into my body. “Your tentacles are out,” Dhymhi murmurs, and I blink as angry darkness fades from my vision.

I very rarely let my tentacles out. I am fearsome enough on my own.

But the tentacles, made of shadow and smoke, have extended from my back. I can feel them, even though they have no substance, rolling and twisting.

They are ready. Ready to kill.

The thought is unbidden and unwanted, and I force my body to swallow them before Chamuel shits himself from fear.

Dhymhi only removes his hand from my arm when the tentacles are gone.

In the meantime, Chamuel has regained his composure.

“She’ll be sold at an auction in three days' time,” Chamuel informs me, his voice still carrying a tinge of fear. “The starting price will be three hundred nodals. But she won’t be good for much. She’s got a bum leg.”

The urge to shake the xaphan, to pull his head from his body, is so strong. I must exude my rage, because Dhymhi places a firm arm around my broad shoulders and practically drags me away from the table.

“You need to cool down. You’ll buy her. You’ll get her. But you need to cool down.”

Dhymhi walks me back to the hotel, which is close to the ports, and leads me directly to the hotel’s bar.

He orders a drink and shoves it at me. I swallow it quickly, and another full drink is placed in my hands immediately.

“Just keep drinking until you relax,” Dhymhi says, his voice soothing and quiet.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what he does.

All I can think of is the blue-eyed woman.

And how I’m going to make her mine.

We sit in the hotel drinking until the sun sets. When the sun does set, a few slave traders walk into the bar.

Chamuel isn’t among them, but I hear one of them, another xaphan, talk about him.

I cannot help but listen in on the conversation.

You might learn something about her. About your girl.

“Chamuel has a whole bunch of rejects from the trials.” The xaphan laughs. “I don’t know why these idiotic humans keep trying. None of them are strong enough to get their wings.”

“They make good entertainment, though. And they’re so determined. Especially that one with the leg. She really didn’t want to give up.”

“Ah, well, she’ll be someone else’s problem now. But I don’t think anyone will buy her. Who wants a servant who cannot walk properly?”

Dhymhi lunges off his chair as I stand and throw my chair back.

He grabs me and pulls me away from the bar and out of the room.

“Okay. That’s enough,” Dhymhi says almost furiously. “You need to go to sleep.”

He drags me up the stairs to my room, and I follow him blindly. I know he is right.

I cannot simply go around killing any of the xaphan on New Solas. Not with the peace treaty in place. And especially not now that King Vag’thimon is worried about the state of the peace treaty.

“Cool down,” Dhymhi tells me in a firm voice and shuts the hotel door behind me.

***

I wake up late the day after my arrival in New Solas.

My thoughts when I wake up go to my human woman immediately. But the auction is only tomorrow, and there is actual business I need to attend to until I make her mine.

After I finish my morning ablutions, I head downstairs to where Dhymhi waits for me.

“Are you feeling better?” Dhymhi’s voice is cautious again.

I shrug and down the cup of kaffo that he hands me.

“I just want the auction to happen already,” I grumble as we walk out of the hotel and to the market, where we need to speak to some of our traders.

I look around for her when we reach the market, and I go up to every cage, but there is no sight of her.

Where the fuck is she? I think frustratedly to myself.

I clench my jaw and allow Dhymhi to do most of the talking. I am quite sure that most of the people who work for and with us believe that Dhymhi is the actual owner of the business. They probably just think that I am the muscle.

I give a barking laugh at this thought.

I spent all my time, after my father passed away more than a decade ago, working on the business.

He built it, but I grew it into something enormous, something almost magnificent.

And the only way I did that was by being completely and utterly ruthless. I couldn’t do it any other way.

I made the deals that no one wanted to make. I partnered with the people no one wanted to partner with.

And I ensured that my reputation remained intact by breaking whatever bones needed breaking.

Now, I am one of the wealthiest demons in all of Ikoth. My wealth rivals even that of the King’s.

And I know that I have even gained the begrudging respect of the xaphan. They still hate me, but they know that my money is worth something.

After we finish at the market, Dhymhi takes me to a bar close to the beach. The bar, like all bars on New Solas, is filled with creatures from all over Aerasak. There are even a few Unseelie fae lingering outside, sipping cocktails.

We find a table, and Dhymhi goes off to order for us. When I look up from my hands, I see that a matron demon has slid into Dhymhi’s seat.

She has a smile on her face and rests her cheek against the palm of her hand, outstretching her tentacles that radiate from her back.

“Well, it isn’t every day that we get a beautiful demon like you in here.” She purrs the words and reveals sharp, white fangs that curve over her lower lip.

“I’m not interested,” I say sharply, harshly.

The matron demon sits back quickly, as though she has been slapped.

Her eyes widen angrily before she gets up quickly from her chair and stomps off. One of her tentacles knocks over the chair she sat in.

Dhymhi returns with our drinks seconds after she leaves.

“What did you do now?” he asks me, his voice tired.

But I do not answer him. All I can think of is her.

I say her name then for the first time. As if I am telling myself a secret, or willing something to memory.

“Vanessa.”

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