8. Rusalka

8

RUSALKA

The moment I open the door to my bedroom, I register that I’m not alone. In the beat it takes to draw my powers around me, encircle my body in flames, a figure steps out of my closet, one of my favorite dresses draped over their arm. I recognize them immediately—Ramanu, one of Azazel’s pet bargainer demons, high enough up the chain of command that they wouldn’t dare trespass without explicit permission.

They smile and turn unerringly to face me despite the horns that curl from where eye sockets would be if they had eyes. It doesn’t seem to matter that they can’t see in the traditional sense. They make a good production of it. “Put away the fireworks, Rusalka.”

I dampen the heat but don’t withdraw it completely. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking up on Azazel’s contracted human, of course.” Their grin turns sharp and cutting. “It was in the fine print.”

“I read the contract.” I finish stepping into the room and close the door. “But you won’t find Belladonna in my bedroom, and you certainly won’t find her wearing that dress.” It’s a filmy thing, meant to seduce, falling in sensual lines from the neck to the floor—and completely transparent.

If I wear that dress, it might give Belladonna a stroke from fighting her desire for me. No doubt there would be some nonsense about leading the others around her into sin. I’m still not sure if I want to alchemize that shame into something hot and fiery or if I want to dig it out with my claws. I can count the time I’ve spent with her in mere hours, and yet it bothers me down to my core how much she hurts for the sake of others.

Her lived experience is so different from mine. I grew up wanting for nothing—certainly not love—and willingly stepped into this leadership position. I was a full adult, more than able to assess the cost, and I judged the sacrifices I would be called to make as worthy, benefiting the lives of many. We are not the same?.?.?.

There’s still something about her that makes it feel like she’s staring at me, holding up a warped mirror.

“Pity. It would look as stunning on her as it no doubt does on you.” Ramanu tosses the dress carelessly onto my bed. “Interesting that you’re already so protective of her.”

“Of course I am,” I snap. They’re trying to get under my skin. I know better than to engage, but Belladonna has me too on edge to play word games. “She’s fine. Ready to martyr herself to serve a territory of people she doesn’t know.”

“Hmmm.” Ramanu gives a show of examining their claws, so similar to mine. They are supposedly the product of a bargainer demon and a gargoyle, but I suspect there’s a stray succubi or incubi in their family history as well.

I shake my head, already tired of this. “Spit it out, Ramanu. You’re no fool. If you wanted to talk to Belladonna, it’s easy enough to seek her out. You’re in my bedroom for a reason.”

“Maybe I’m here to seduce you.”

I burst out laughing. It feels good, a release of the pressure that’s been building since I brought a fatalistic human into my territory. “Darling, we’ve traveled those roads before, and while you were a thoroughly enjoyable partner, I think it’s safe to say that neither of us is interested in retreading that territory.” I suspect they have someone they’re interested in for more than mere sex, and that’s not something I could give them, even if they wanted it. Which they didn’t We work better as friends. The last thing I need is Azazel thinking he has some hold over me because I’m sleeping with one of his demons.

They give a chuckle of their own. “True enough.”

“Glad we got that out of the way.” I cross my arms over my chest and let my flames fade away. “I’m listening.”

“You’re not normally so abrupt.” They perch on the edge of my bed.

“And somehow, you’re always this coy.”

They sigh. “Azazel is worried about the girl.”

“I’m aware. We spoke before the choosing.” It irks me that he’s sent his babysitter so quickly, but it’s not unexpected. Belladonna is everything Azazel feared and more. I still can’t quite believe she made the impulsive decision to bear a child for my territory. I should be elated. That theoretical child represents a safety and prosperity unlike any we’ve seen in my lifetime.

Bu it doesn’t feel right.

A week still isn’t long enough to make it feel right, but I suspect it’s as much time as I can get away with before she balks at the delay.

“So much conflict.” Ramanu waves their hand through the air as if testing currents. Due to their gargoyle parent, they can read auras, similar to how I can read desires and emotions. I was taught to shield, just like all children, but there’s no point in trying to with Ramanu. They’re here for an accurate report, after all. I have nothing to hide. “So much need.”

“Ramanu.”

“The contract states no harm may come to the human. Azazel is concerned that it won’t recognize harm in the traditional manner, because of her?.?.?. history.”

“He’s right to be concerned.” I should watch my words, should keep my conflict to the Insomnior Court, where I know it won’t go beyond those walls. “She agreed to have a child.”

Ramanu’s perfect coy persona flickers, true shock showing. “So quickly.”

“Yes.”

“And yet you’re not exuberant.”

I can’t hold still any longer. I pace from one side of the room to the other, my long legs eating up the distance before the motion can satisfy the tumult inside me. “It’s wrong. It would be taking advantage.”

“It would help your territory. Isn’t that your end all, be all?”

I snap a look at them. “Don’t act the part of a hurt lover now, Ramanu. You were no more invested in our fling than I was.”

“It’s true.” They shrug. “But so is the fact that you have gone to extreme and occasionally harmful lengths to be a good leader to your people. Far beyond what other leaders do.”

“That just makes them poor leaders,” I snap.

“I see.” They nod slowly and rise to their feet. “What will you do?”

“Scare the shit out of her.” I hold up a hand when they tense. “Not like that. Give me some credit. She’s so twisted up, she doesn’t know what she’s feeling at any given time. She wants, Ram—it fills up a room—but the shame she feels chokes it near to death.”

They lean forward, interest lighting up their pretty features and warming their crimson skin. “You’re going to seduce her.”

“Not yet.” I want her. Gods, I want her. More than I could have anticipated, even after that delicious dream. Me, who can find something worth desiring in any partner. Belladonna aches, and I ache in time with her. “I’m going to bring her to a play party with a handful of trusted friends. Observing only.”

This time their chuckle is full-bodied and fills up the room. “That’s going to blow her mind.”

“Likely.” I’ll have to pay close attention in order to ensure it doesn’t push her over the edge. I’m well aware that the price for harming Belladonna is my territory, but that’s not my sole motivation for being careful.

A good leader is ruthless, yes, and cunning, but they don’t trample on people more fragile than they are. Doing so damages a community—do it enough and there’s no community left to speak of, nothing to protect. If more leaders took that truth to heart, there would be less sorrow in the dreams of humans I visit.

Ramanu sighs, some of their amusement filtering away. “Seems like you have things well in hand.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed that there’s no drama to stir up.” Their propensity to wreak havoc is part of what first drew me to them. Life is rarely boring when Ramanu is making an appearance. I motion to the door. “She’s in her room if you want to check in on her.”

“And traumatize the poor thing further? Between the horns and my humor, she’s unlikely to recover in her current state.” They laugh. “I think not. Let her settle in a bit more. I’ll return at a later date.” They pause. “But, truly, congratulations, Rusalka. I know what this will mean for you.”

I shake my head. “Don’t congratulate me yet.”

Ramanu grins. “That right there is why I am. You’ll do right by her. I have no doubt about that.”

I don’t ask about the other territory leaders, though curiosity threatens to sink its teeth into me. I may not know them on a personal level, but I know how they operate. Some of them will fare better with their humans than others. Still, Ramanu’s confidence in me smoothes something jagged in my chest. “Thank you.”

“Wear that dress for your party.” Their smile goes mischievous. “If she doesn’t have a heart attack from shock, she won’t be able to keep her hands off you.” There’s a slight pop as the air pressure changes, and then Ramanu is gone.

I glare at the space they just occupied, but the expression is half-hearted. “Dramatic to the bitter end.” I move to my bed and pick up the dress they tossed there, then run my claws carefully over the slick fabric. They’re right, of course. This dress is meant to seduce and may even be enough for Belladonna to forget her shame and see what it could be like on the other side?.?.?.

It’s perfect.