2. Rusalka

2

RUSALKA

“Rusalka.”

I almost ignore Azazel’s quiet call, but while dragons and krakens may get away with shitty manners, I’m not inclined to toy with the bargainer demon’s temper. We have an understanding, after all—the bargainers bring humans into this realm for their own reasons, and we gain access to those humans’ dreams. My people benefit from the small influx of power without having to stretch themselves to try and traverse the realms. We can’t physically leave the way bargainers can, but we can travel psychically. It’s just hard and takes almost as much energy as we gain from coaxing intense dreams from humans.

If our agreement means I have to kiss Azazel’s boots periodically, then so be it. All for the benefit of my people. Anything for the benefit of my people. It’s what good leaders do.

That doesn’t mean I like being in the magical castle Azazel calls home. He may be a fair leader, but it’s impossible to forget the wars of the past with his predecessor. She would have done anything to get her hands on the leaders of the other territories, to conquer the entirety of this realm.

My thoughts already have me on edge. I may trust Azazel in some regards, but I’m not a fool. If we are reluctant allies currently, that only holds so long as we find each other useful. It can change at any moment, depriving my people of their main source of sustenance. Which means I have to play nice.

None of that explains why I’m here. Summoned.

I turn on my hoof and wait for Azazel to catch up. Bargainer demons come in all shapes and sizes, but Azazel, king of the bargainers, is massive. His curling horns nearly scrape the ceiling, and his broad shoulders take up the hallway. He wears a wrap around his waist, leaving his dark-red chest bare. He’s handsome, as bargainer demons go, but even I’m not foolish enough to toy with him that way.

He stops a respectful distance away. His predecessor would have crowded in. Caesarea always had something to prove. She was a pain in my ass, demanding much and giving scraps in return. I’m glad she’s dead and gone.

I lift my brows. “Why am I here, Azazel?”

“I have a?.?.?.” He glances over his shoulder and curses. “We’re not friends.”

That’s the understatement of the century. “Nope.”

Azazel nods. “But we do have a mutual understanding when it comes to humans, their needs, and what they can offer this realm. It’s why I allow you access to the ones brought in by my people. You have care with them.”

What is the canny bastard on about now? I school my features into polite interest—or as close as I can manage. “Yes,” I say slowly. He’s taking an angle, but I’m not sure what it is. My patience wanes and I sigh. “Spit it out, Azazel.”

“I’ve already issued the details to the other leaders, but?—”

“You excluded me from the invite.” Shock slaps me in the face. I expect this disrespect from the other territory leaders, but I was foolish enough to assume Azazel would continue to be different. I should have known better. “What the fuck?”

“I had my reasons.” He looks away, clearly uncomfortable. “As I said, we have a mutual understanding and I thought it would be better to speak of it in person.”

I almost turn around and walk away, but we both know I can’t afford to be excluded from any meeting involving the others. My people’s safety is worth more than my pride. “I’m here. Speak.”

He sighs, the sound almost silent. “I am offering a contract to every leader in this realm. A chance to have direct access to a single human for seven years. They will return to the respective territories and any children resulting in those potential unions will?—”

“What?” My breath stills in my lungs. My people may have access to humans in their dreams, but the bargainers are the only ones who have physical contact with them. And the bargainer demons are jealous captors—or protective, depending on who you ask. Personally, I think it’s a combination of both.

Regardless, the result is that only the bargainers have been able to procreate with humans and bolster their territory’s magic. Through some quirk of evolution, when a human and a paranormal breed, the resulting child is exponentially more powerful. Here in this realm, each territory’s magic is only as strong as the territory’s leader’s. If that leader has recent human ancestry, they—and their territory—have a decided advantage over the others in this realm.

There was a time when travel between the realms was more common, and procreation between humans and other species was too, but after the realms separated, bloodlines made more magical by humans thinned through the years. Now they’re more memory for most territories than anything else. What Azazel promises will change everything. Possibly in catastrophic ways.

“Why would you do that?” I finally ask. “You have the market cornered on power right now. Why give that up?”

“The entire realm suffers because of the imbalance.” He shakes his head sharply. “My predecessor—and her predecessor—tried it that way, and we’ve seen dozens of wars as a result. Better that everyone stands on even ground. There will be a contract. No one will force the humans to do anything they don’t want to do. I’m not offering anything more than a chance at a better future.”

A chance is significantly more than we’ve been offered before. This may be a trap; if something seems too good to be true, then it usually is. I take a deep breath. “Why not tell me the same way as the others? I thought you had more respect for my people than your predecessor.”

“I do. I realize in hindsight that I mishandled this. I apologize.”

An apology. That’s something. I shove down my pride. “So why?”

“Because one of my candidates is?.?.?.” He shifts almost nervously. I’ve never seen Azazel nervous once in our many years as leaders. He stills and meets my gaze steadily. “You have proven yourself to be a fair and considerate leader to your people. I don’t believe our values are dissimilar.”

I should probably do something to stop this strange reaching out he’s doing; nothing good comes of other territory leaders thinking they can anticipate your moves. But I don’t. Partially because I’m curious, and partially because he’s right. I’ve worked hard, sacrificed much, and committed unsavory acts to ensure my people don’t abuse their connections with dreaming humans. Historically, that wasn’t something our people worried about. Now it is. And we all prosper as a result.

“I’m listening.”

“You know what I’m offering and what it means to this realm, but the cost of any harm coming to the humans I’ve made a bargain with is devastatingly high. I’m concerned this human will not advocate for herself. She worries me.”

I don’t ask him why he made the bargain in the first place if that’s true. No doubt he had his reasons. Azazel is a ruthless bastard at times, but he’s got a soft heart when it comes to his humans. Whatever drove this human to make a bargain, it must have been bad enough for Azazel to override his hesitation. “Why not give her to Sol then? He’s so damned careful, he’s likely to spend the next seven years making polite small talk.” The dragon king isn’t a bad man, as such things go, but he’s dreadfully boring. Which means he’s safe.

“Like I said, I don’t think she’ll advocate for herself. Sol and the others might not realize there’s a problem until it’s too late and harm is done.” He leans forward. “You know humans, Rusalka. More, your powers can read her desires—and lack thereof. You won’t harm her or allow her to harm herself.”

Normally, I’d hate that he’s so sure of me, but he’s not wrong. This opportunity could shake our realm to the very foundations, but I haven’t fought this hard for my people to stop now. This human may be a trap waiting to be sprung. “Bram can read emotions as easily as I can.”

He gives me a severe look. “Bram doesn’t know what he wants.”

Azazel’s also not wrong about that. I shrug. “If you’re so worried about her, then why don’t you take her?”

“I have other priorities at the moment.”

I’m mostly arguing for the sake of arguing. I won’t do a single damned thing to endanger this offer. “Very well, I’ll take this human and care for her. But you must know that I will do my best to convince her to have a child to benefit my people.” The rest of the territories—Azazel excepting—don’t take us seriously. If there were to be a power imbalance with my people on the wrong side? No. I won’t allow it to happen.

“I know.” He moves past me in a graceful step that I admire despite myself. “Follow the hallway to the end and go through the door. We’ll get things started shortly.” Azazel opens a door that most definitely wasn’t there a moment ago and steps through.

“The bargainer castle is so damned creepy,” I murmur. Our walls have the decency to stay where we built them, rather than change on a whim. A low rumble shakes the floor beneath my feet, and I flinch. “No insults meant.” I’m not certain the castle is sentient?.?.?. but I’m not certain it’s not.

Either way, the rumbling stops, and I’m able to make my way down the hall to the door there. It leads into a large room with a dais on one side and several chairs and seating arrangements obviously meant for me and the other territory leaders. There’s the gargoyle, Bram, with his dour expression and leathery-looking wings. Thane, the kraken leader, enters next with his equally dour expression and inset pool of what smells like salt water. And here comes Sol, the dragon leader, looking like someone just took a piss on his foot and ruined his day. But then, he always looks like that. A cheery bunch, this group is not.

Azazel appears seconds before the door opens and five human women file out. The bargainer demon truly is putting on a show, because they move to a short dais I’d missed before and step up onto it. All are dressed in luxurious gowns. Several appear terrified.

I glance at Azazel, and his gaze flicks to the woman in red. Mine, apparently. She’s pretty, but all of them are; her long dark hair is gathered up around her face, and her red gown shows off smooth shoulders and the top curve of her breasts. She’s also smiling as if she’s having a marvelous time.

Reaching out with my magic tells another story. She’s intrigued by all this, but it’s almost as if the more intrigued she is, the more shame she feels. The mix coats every inch of her, thick enough that I can taste it on the back of my tongue. Familiar. How many dreams have I visited with this very combination? I’ve never had to deal with the person attached to the desire and shame, though, only to draw forth their deep yearnings until I’m filled to the brim with them. I know how to do that but not what they feel in the morning when they awake, shivering and throbbing and sick with need.

I have a feeling I’m going to discover the answer to that soon enough.

“Red,” I say, barely waiting until Bram chooses his woman to claim this one as mine.