34. Kami

34

Kami

" Y ou're still not funny." Crash is sulking a day later, still unamused that he thought himself bound to me.

I can't help laughing. "You totally fell for it. Sucker."

He glares at me and zips a finger across his throat and points said finger at me.

"Nah, you'd never hurt your sexy little mistress," Ries teases and winks at me.

Despite our situation, the mood is upbeat as we seek warmer, safer ground.

Nothing has attacked us since the guys took out Crash's assailants. We haven't crossed paths with any more tree men or roving maniacs.

I have no idea what the plan is, when we'll get to the actual freaking trials, or if we'll ever get a chance to escape.

None of us has sensed or seen any way out of this awful, never-ending nightmare.

The forest finally thins out, and we're traveling through fields of strawberry-colored wheat, tended by devas in the dusk. They can only be seen when it's dark, appearing as small orbs of light. But they're actually industrious fae who live for thriving crops and forests.

That they're here tells me we might have found a place to rest.

"Hey, do you guys see?—"

"A tavern?" Ries interrupts. "Here?"

We all turn to look in the direction he's pointing and spot a large tavern with an attached building made of riverstone. It's neat and welcoming.

I instinctively don't trust it.

A few comely looking nymphs push windows open, and a large "Open" sign lights up in a tavern window.

Darkness falls over the landscape as if someone has flicked a switch and turned on a full moon overhead.

"Just how big is this place?" Crash mutters.

"It's not big or small." Oz sighs. "It's whatever those who control the Radiant Trials want it to be. A world, a town, a small fighting ring."

Malkar stomps toward it. "I don't care what it is. I'm parched. I want an ale before I have to kill again. Murder makes me thirsty."

I don't know that I'd call what any of the guys have done murder. Defending oneself isn't murder. Is it?

I wish I cared more. But my morals are wrapped up in my survival. All my life, people have been "murdering" for any number of reasons. No one ever seemed to care if I survived but me and Ahza.

And since policing has never been very consistent during my travels, I make my own judgement on what is fair.

We follow Malkar to the tavern, which is brimming with patrons. Most of them fellow tributes for the Radiant Trials.

I see uniforms of blue and gold, other sacrifices from Lancer, as well as a host of red and white from Asrai. Only a few green and purple from Godtown seem present, thankfully.

We enter and someone strikes a gong.

The expansive room falls silent.

"No foighten in der plass," booms an orc even larger than Oz. "Peez in der plass."

It takes me a moment to translate. No fighting in the place. Peace in the place.

We nod when it appears the orc was directing that to us. Or more specifically, to Oz.

Oz smiles. "Ner problum."

The orc smiles back.

There's a definite difference between that guy and Oz. Both are greenish, but the orc is a darker green, his eyes a blackish-red and slanted, his brows curly. He's slimmer than Oz, less muscular, and wears brown shorts and overalls over a gray, sleeveless tunic.

His hair is long and thick and curling over his shoulders, a coarse, thick black.

He motions to Oz, who glances back at me. "I'll be back."

"Go on. Enjoy." I tug him to whisper, "But be careful."

He nods, pats my shoulder, and goes to speak with the orc now wiping down the bar counter.

Ries sticks next to me, as does Malkar, but Crash follows Oz.

To get away from me, likely.

I have to grin.

Ries laughs, following my gaze. "I swear, Crash feeling like he's tied to you has him on edge. I haven't been this amused in a long time."

Malkar chuckles. "Truly. And to think, Oz came up with the joke. Fabulous. He impresses me more and more."

I follow Ries and Malkar to an open corner table and study the room. The space is large and has two floors. There must be at least thirty or forty people with room for twice that many.

Fashioned like a taproom from one of the older settlements out east, the tavern connects to the hotel via the upstairs, where I see a flock of nymphs, barely dressed, peering over the railing.

The dining room is done in tones of brown, the hearty wood framing the place and serving as tables and chairs thick and robust. Crafted by sturdy hands and cared for by nurturing souls, the pub has plants in pots everywhere.

Though it smells of cooked meat and ale, there's an underlying scent of sweetness. Faeberry, if I had to guess. There's joy here in eating and drinking well, in coming together with friends in a safe harbor.

I want to trust what I'm feeling. But something in me tells me not to.

"Ah, that's what I was sensing," Ries murmurs as he spreads his legs. "Sex."

I follow his gaze and find several nymphs pleasuring men in shadowed corners, under tables, and up the stairs, where several men have found their way.

And it's not just nymphs. Several of the patrons are fucking each other in corners as well. A heady oppression settles over us.

I take a deep breath and notice the sweet scent underlying the food deepens.

Frowning, I glance up to see Malkar staring at me. "What?"

Ries keys in to his interest as well. "Oh ho. So, finally. Going to seal the deal, demon?"

Malkar rises slowly and circles the table to stand over me.

"Malkar?"

He seems…off.

His eyes glow before dimming to normal once more. "Come with me, Kami. Time to gift you with a promise of pleasure you will never have from these mere mortals."

I laugh nervously.

Malkar isn't kidding. He lifts a brow, waiting.

I did make a pledge, but I never thought he'd be into accepting it. Malkar has acted like he's too good for me all this time. And now he wants sex, in this tavern brimming with sly magic?

Ries stands, kisses me breathless, then pushes me toward Malkar. "A deal's a deal. I'll wait down here."

I have no reason to deny Malkar. He's been respectable. He's powerful, incredibly sexy, and I admit to a curiosity about what being with him will be like.

But…

"Now," he growls, his arousal obvious.

I ignore the hint that something isn't right and take his hand.

He leads me upstairs. A whisper with a nymph, an exchange of a gold piece—and where did he get that?—and we're alone together in a room with a bed.

Malkar smiles at me, his teeth bright. And fanged?

"Time to pleasure your Better, little dryad."

"Better? Wait. What?"

Then Malkar gets naked.

And I have no more words.