“I’m not the pervert, princess.” He rose abruptly, knocking me off him onto the muddy floor. I landed face down, ungracefully.
Then, the creep yanked me up by the bindings around my wrists, jerking me onto my feet.
“Ow!” The way he’d said I’m not the pervert made it sound like he thought I was.
I scrambled to try to stand, to regain a little of my dignity, but the bindings made it hard.
“And you don’t get a choice about what happens next,” he said. “You have broken fae laws. You destroyed your own kingdom. The only reason you’re still alive is that I need something from you.”
“I absolutely did not destroy my kingdom. Are you high? What kind of idiot would do that?” Someone had destroyed my kingdom over a century ago—but it wasn’t me.
He was still holding me by the binding from behind, like a trainer holding the reins of a wild animal.
He leaned down and spoke in a low voice, his breath warming the shell of my ear once more. “You don’t have the skill or the decency to fight like a fae. You’re the Flayer of Skins, an iron-user. You hammer body parts to the wall with iron nails.” Something particularly enraged him about this last part—like he wasn’t angry about the severed body parts. Just the material that I used to secure them to the wall.
“Men’s body parts,” I retorted. “You know what men are like. Selfish, murderous, abusive assholes who break into your house and tie you up in thorns.” I looked back at him over my shoulder. “Case in point. I kill the bad ones, and I simply repurpose their organic material for other uses. Everyone wins. Except the people who deserve to die.”
From behind me, he gripped the ropes of magic so tight they cut into my wrists. “You killed the prince of the Court of Lyonesse with iron. You slaughtered him without mercy after luring him into a helpless state.” Everything he was saying was factually correct, I’d give him that, but he made it all sound so wrong. “You are worthless.”
“You say I’m worthless, and yet you obviously need me.” Now, I really wanted to hurt him. “Look, I am a good person. Or at the worst I am morally gray. You’re clearly the monster in this situation.”
I’d simply refuse to comply, considering he was obviously a sadistic beast. What was the worst he could do? I could withstand torture if I had to. “You may not realize you’re asking for my help, but you are. And the answer is no. I won’t help you track whatever it is you want, because I despise you, and your desiccated heart will someday decorate my wall. With iron in it.”
Silence filled the room—somehow more terrifying than his growling or his threats.
From behind me, heat radiated from my attacker’s body as he clutched the bindings.
At last, he spoke, in a deep and quiet voice. “I could threaten to kill you, but I’m not sure you care sufficiently about your life. Given the state of it, I can understand why. Hating yourself is likely the one sensible thing you’re capable of.”
My lip curled. “I’m not sure I like the tone you’re taking.”
“You live in filth.”
Was he serious? “You caused the filth when you flooded us.”
“You don’t care about your own life, but you care about that little human. Do as I ask, and she will have food and shelter. Refuse, and she will be forced to wander the streets on her own.”
I fell silent, desperately wishing I had the power to crush him for good. Whatever happened, I had to keep Gina safe. She was just a kid, really, and this had nothing to do with her. This was elite fae business, and the elite fae were basically monsters.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I asked. “About giving her food and shelter.”
He dropped his grip on the bindings behind me, and I struggled to stabilize myself.
He slowly prowled around to stand in front of me, his movements precise. He stared down at me, and the eerie look in his gold eyes made me shiver. “I give you my sacred oath as the Ankou.”
In general, the fae could lie. But when we uttered a sacred oath, we were bound to it for good. It was simply impossible to break it.
I flexed my wrists in their bindings, silently simmering with fury. If I helped him track whatever he wanted, at least Gina would be fed and safe.
But I needed to get specific, because the fae could get tricky with their oaths. “When I say shelter, I mean specifically she needs a hotel room at the Savoy.” Why not? Everyone knew the assassins had tons of money. “All of her meals will be covered by room service, whatever she wants to eat, whenever she wants to eat it.”
“You have my oath that those specific conditions will be met.”
“And she’ll need cab rides to school in the morning, and a computer. But block access to YouTube.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about at this point.”
“Forget about YouTube. But she needs rides to and from school in a cab.”
“Fine.”
“I need your oath for that, too.”
“You have my sacred oath that she will remain in a room at the Savoy Hotel, served room service at her whim, with cab rides to and from school, until you help me track the object I need.”
“And I’ll need an oath that once I help you find your thing, you will let me go free, and not harm me.”
“You make a lot of demands for someone who sleeps on rubbish bags.”
“Oath or no deal,” I said.
“You have my oath that I will let you go without harm once you help me find the object I seek.”
I let out a long breath. Okay. So perhaps this wasn’t the worst turn of events. Except for the part where I had to spend more time with this maniac.
“Will someone tell Gina where I’ve gone, and that I’ll be back?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m in. Let’s find your… whatever it is. But I need more clothes.”
He ignored that request, and he gripped me around the waist. His magic whispered around me—a seductive, sea-tinged power. It felt as if I were being lulled under the ocean waves…
A sharp stab of regret pierced my chest. This was all happening rather quickly. Had I been too quick to agree to him?
“Wait—wait.” I fought to keep my eyes open. “What’s the catch? I know there’s a—”
The words fluttered away as images of ocean waves filled my mind, the pounding of foamy water against a rocky shore. Pressed against his strong body, I felt myself fall into freezing waters, my arms still wrenched behind my back.
Chapter 6
I woke still bound in ropes of sharp magic, arms twisted behind my back. I seemed to be in a freezing dungeon, still wearing nothing but the baggy underwear, which was now soaked with cold water. I lay on a damp sandstone floor, its surface coated in a freezing sludge. Wherever I was, it smelled like rotting fish.
The cell I found myself in was about eight feet by six feet, and faintly illuminated by a torch. Light shone through the iron gate, flecking the dungeon cell with squares of gold. Through the gate, I had a view of a dim sandstone hall lit by torches.
The magical bindings cut into my skin. A bitter taste coated my tongue. I think that at some point during my time here, I’d thrown up the toast in my system. Gross.