Chapter 31

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

Zahir was struggling his way through a council meeting a week later with as much grace as he could muster. Which was none at all. He didn’t want to leave Ezra’s arms for another month, but Arkon and Gio’s incessant messages over the past five days had gotten too much for him.

While they had been tracking down the Cabal, the Wolf Mage had committed another atrocity. The Republic’s men had been ambushed in the dead of night by monstrous creatures, leaving only fleshy pulp and bone behind.

"It wasn’t her," Arkon argued, his cheeks red with frustration.

"Who else was it then? Until we have a definite answer to that question, the deaths are laid at her feet," General Josefina Serpente D’Argento replied, her tone icy.

"We have another Varangian mage under our feet in the dungeon at this very minute. Varangia is clearly branching out in its recruitment," Arkon snapped. "We rule the seas, and perhaps that’s why they are trying to attack our land troops with any means they have."

"What I want to know," Nico interrupted in his calm, deep voice, "is how that bastard got through our patrols and into our city to begin with. If there is a gap in our defenses, however small, it must be plugged up."

"You can come to the dungeons with me after the meeting, and we can poke him with something sharp until he tells us," Zahir told him. He looked at Gio. "Is that all for today?"

The Doge’s eyes narrowed. "No."

Zahir was contemplating leaving a copy of himself in the chair and disappearing when a red-faced messenger came in. "Apologies for interrupting, but I have an urgent message for General D’Argento."

"Out with it," Josefina instructed.

"The engineer who was being transported from Constantinople… His ship and escort were attacked off the Dalmatian coast. P-Pirates on our side of the blockade. One of the survivors said they were coming from Venice and were flying your personal flag. They thought you had sent a ship to greet them," the man said.

Nico went wholly still in the way only a shifter could. His eyes glowed aqua blue, showing his beast was far too close to the surface. He turned his attention to Gio.

"Now, will you let me deal with the fucking pirate problem?" he demanded.

"You watch that tone when you speak to me, boy," Gio replied so calmly that the hair on the back of Zahir’s neck rose. "But, yes, you will be dealing with this pirate problem once and for all. Zahir, Arkon? You will accompany Nico downstairs to speak with the mage. This disguised ship could have been how the little rat got into the city to begin with. Well? Go."

The three of them left without further argument. Arkon and Nico were so worked up, they were positively vibrating.

"You two need to calm down before I take you into the dungeons," Zahir said as they walked. "No one wants to take this man apart more than I do, but you won’t get the information you need if you break his jaw."

"Oh, I’ll get the information," Nico growled under his breath.

"And how is the lovely Ezra? Have you told her that she is your consort yet?" Arkon asked him.

"Ezra is perfect, and yes, I have."

"A consort?" Nico looked sideways at him. "Do you mean like a mate?"

"Indeed, my serpentine friend," Arkon answered before Zahir could. "Our dear king is all but shacked up with his mage. Which means I’m making you my new drinking buddy. Us smart and single males must stick together."

"For the good of the patriarchy?" Zahir asked with a roll of his eyes.

"Don’t be droll. I meant purely for our own entertainment. Not everything in life has to revolve around the fairer sex."

"Says the man most obsessed out of all of us," Zahir said.

"Thank you for the offer, Arkon, but I have pirates to hunt and hang from my mast," Nico replied with a small smile that said he was imagining doing just that.

"Well, we all have our kinks, I suppose," Arkon lamented and opened the door leading into the dungeons from the council chambers.

The dungeons were cool, dank, and an excellent place for despair to grow like mold in the shadows. The Varangian mage was sitting in a cell, apart from the other Cabal members.

Arkon unlocked the mage’s cell. He was sleeping peacefully, so Nico grabbed him off the floor by his neck and dropped him onto the only chair in the cell. A med-mage had mended his arm and leg, purely to give Arkon a blank canvas to work with. Vladek looked at Nico with a bored expression. The commander had taken off his blue and silver jacket and was rolling up his long white sleeves.

"Who are you supposed to be?" Vladek asked.

Nico hit him, a perfect fast strike that sent his head backward. "Commander D’Argento. A pleasure to meet you."

Vladek chuckled and spat out a mouthful of blood. "Ah, the Commander. I know someone who is your biggest fan."

"And who would that be?" Nico asked, crossing his arms. He was huge and impressive, and if Zahir was being honest, if Nico ever looked at him with that glare, he would’ve told him whatever he wanted to know.

"Why, the Pirate King, of course."

Arkon and Zahir shook their heads. "Whoops. You just made your last dumb mistake," Arkon said. Nico had the mage pressed against the wall in a move so fast that Zahir didn’t follow it. He held the mage with one hand around his throat and high enough that Vladek’s feet were dangling off the ground.

"You had better start talking, Varangian, or Nico is going to break every bone in your body," Zahir advised.

"Do that…and you won’t ever learn where the Wolf Mage is," Vladek gasped out.

"Oh, yes, we definitely will." Arkon laughed and nodded to Nico. "Have fun. We will be back in twenty minutes."

Nico’s eyes glowed. "I won’t need twenty minutes."

Arkon locked the door behind them. "Come along, Zahir. We have other people to mess with."

"I had wondered what you did with all the Cabal members. Any of them singing for you yet?" Zahir asked. He had ideas on exactly what he wanted to do with them.

"I put them all together to see who would blame whom. We’ve only had them turn on one man and beat him to death so far, to silence him, I believe, but I think with a bit more time, we will get what we need," Arkon said cheerily, stopping in front of the door. He pulled back the eye slot.

Zahir’s rage simmered hot as he looked at the men all sitting in different parts of the cell. The Cabal hadn’t discriminated; there were members from every district in Venice. Zachariah still drew breath, which disappointed him. He saw Zahir and spat. Charming.

"These ones think they are all too loyal and stoic to talk. I thought you would have something more fun to use on them than fists," Arkon said and patted him on the shoulder. "Think of it as an early wedding present."

"You always give me the most thoughtful gifts, habibi," Zahir replied. He kissed Arkon on the cheek. "I love it, and so will Ezra."

"You’re both very welcome. I do adore her already, so you are lucky she found you first instead of me," Arkon said and gave the Cabal members a friendly little wave.

"You all thought that you could threaten to imprison my people without consequences," Zahir called to them. "You should have listened more closely to your bedtime stories about what happens to those stupid enough to try to trap a djinn. Especially me."

Zahir’s hot bronze power shot through the slot in the door. The Cabal members shouted in alarm, trying and failing to get away from the magic. It saturated the cell, filling the men with Zahir’s spell. Their eyes glossed over, blind with the magic that struck them down. One by one, they started to sob in terror, their hands flailing about in front of them. Others curled in on themselves, rocking and mumbling.

"What did you do?" Arkon asked curiously.

Zahir smiled, every inch the vengeful king of the djinn. "I am letting them feel what it’s like to be trapped alone for centuries. They will be ready to talk for you soon enough, sorcerer," he said and shut the slot on their screams.