CHAPTER 32
A lora stood on the platform outside Zedron’s home and tugged her coat tight around her throat. The tree creaked as it swayed, caught in the evening breeze. Leaves rustled. The sound tinkled through the branches like whispered words, audible yet indiscernible.
A few strands of hair had escaped Alora’s ribbon, tickling her cheek. She wiped them away and yanked on the Yandora vines dangling from a nearby branch.
Inside the large tree home, three chimes echoed. The slick melody reminded Alora of the smooth operator living within. A sour taste formed in her mouth. Once, she’d fallen for his good looks and ingratiating charm. Thank the stars, she’d seen through his facade before she’d accepted his bonding offer.
Familiar footsteps, assured and firm, echoed from within the home.
On the surface below, an eerie howl filled the night—rhondo beasts. Her gut rolled. How she hated the creatures. She’d lost two friends to the deadly beasts, Bellamy, her best girlfriend, and Mitan, her childhood companion. No one deserved that fate.
The door swung open.
Zedron stood in the entry. Dressed in tailored slacks, an impeccable sport coat, and a fancy silken shirt, he seemed overdressed for the evening, but that didn’t surprise her. He’d always loved his fine attire. “Hello, Alora. What a pleasant surprise.”
A charming smile tugged at his lips, the one she’d fallen for so long ago. She ground her teeth and peered at his eyes. Piercing blue, they bore into her.
With steely determination, she forced herself not to look away. “Pleasant isn’t the word I’d use.”
He laughed, the irritating chuckle skating over her nerves. “My, my, some things don’t change. You always did state your mind. Come in, please.” He extended his arm, welcoming her into his home, his sanctuary.
Raising her chin, she strode past him. His unique scent of warm musk and moon ale filtered into her senses, swirling unpleasant memories like a bad storm. She ground her teeth. Time to get down to business.
He closed the door behind her. With an arrogance enough for two males, he strode to the bar. Carved into racks in the Rolmdew tree’s inner trunk, a selection of wines and ales lined the dark wood. He selected a bottle of muldoberry wine, flipped open the latch, and poured the liquid into first one glass, then another. The wine gurgled from the bottle, sending the sweet berry scent into the air.
“This isn’t a social call.” She crossed her arms.
He smirked. “It could be, if you let it.”
“That’s a battle you already lost.”
The muscles in his shoulders tensed for a moment then relaxed. He gripped the long stems between his fingers, one in each hand, and headed her way. “Please, I prefer not to drink alone.”
His blue eyes twinkled, but in their depths was a calculation and assuredness that sent ice into her veins.
Before she could refuse, he handed her one of the glasses.
His fingers grazed against hers, sending a bout of revulsion up her throat.
With a quick dip of his chin, he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. The diamond stud in his nose accentuated the gleam in his eyes. “Please, have some, then share with me why you grace me with your presence.”
“I…” The words wouldn’t come through her scratchy throat, so she took a sip of the wine. The sweet nectar washed away the ache and calmed her overactive nerves. She was here to bargain with him. Determination coiled in her gut, and she placed the glass on the edge of the bar.
His eyebrow rose.
Plastering on her best smile, she said, “I come bearing a gift, one you won’t like.”
He placed his hand over his heart, his trimmed and buffed nails resting against his lapel. “I am honored.”
She pursed her lips, her anger rising every time he spoke. He should be confrontational, trying to kick her out, force her to leave. His attempt at hospitality knocked her off her game.
A bead of sweat rolled down her back.
“You won’t be, once you see what I have.” She slipped her fingers into her pocket and tugged the small recording device free. The disc, resting on her palm, shimmered in the light.
His attention riveted to the object. Lines formed around his mouth. “What do you have there?”
“Don’t you recognize it?” She taunted him, aware that doing so was like poking a stick at a rhondo beast. You never knew when it would attack, and the outcome could be brutal.
His unwavering stare bore into her. “Should I?”
“It’s yours. Of that, I have no doubt.” She strutted to his visus bacin and glanced into the murky water. “Ah, Ram, that poor soul. He really didn’t deserve his trip to that rehab center on Earth.”
Zedron sipped his wine then placed the glass on the bar next to hers. With slow precision, he ran his finger along the stem. “You must be mistaken. Ram is on the character board where he belongs.”
“He is now.” She tapped her finger against her lip then pointed to the character board on the wall above his scrying bowl. “Have you ever looked under a character’s profile? You know, the details beneath their basic info? There’s a whole wealth of history there—things they’ve done, places they’ve been, a whole cadre of juicy details.”
He snapped the glass in two.
She jumped, her heart pounding.
Wine spilled across the counter. A few drops dribbled over the edge and landed on the polished wood floor, staining the grain. “Where did you get that?”
Forcing herself not to give in to the urge to flee, she straightened her shoulders and smiled. “Maybe you should take better care of your recordings. You never know what might end up in the trash or for sale in a thrift store.”
A slow, menacing chuckle reverberated from him. “Well, now. That’s interesting since I always keep mine. Perhaps my faithful servant isn’t so loyal.”
She swallowed. He wasn’t stupid. As she’d anticipated, he’d figured it out. Time to go all in. Steeling her courage, she steadied her voice. “I could be persuaded not to take this proof of your deception to the council.”
He strode toward her, invading her space. His warm, rancid breath was hot and heavy against her chin, her throat. “Go to the council. I don’t care. It would be my first offense. You, however, have no chances left. Why should I bargain with you?”
Bile rose in her throat, but she refused to back down. To piss him off, she trailed a finger along his jaw, taunting him. “Because I know you. You don’t want to win by default. You want to defeat me, bring me to my knees.”
He gripped her arm. A low growl emerged from his chest. “I want you so much. You drive me insane.”
She tore away from his grasp. “I take it you’re willing to hear my terms.”
He hissed. “I’m listening.”
“I want two things. First a character, the Ursus Kaelyn.”
He pulled back, studying her. “Why?”
“Unlike you, I care for my characters. One of my Stiyaha, a loyal warrior, has fallen for her. I want them to be together.” She raised her chin.
His gaze narrowed, flicked to her mouth then returned to her eyes. Silver flashes of desire darted through his irises. “Your love for your characters will be your downfall. They are mere pawns in our game, and I find it amusing they treat us as gods. What is your other demand?”
“Carine.”
The skin on his neck reddened. “Never.”
“You will.” Alora smiled. “You wouldn’t want to lose face in front of Radnor. I know how much you love to impress the council leader.”
His hardened features remained in place for a moment. He studied her, and she could swear she heard the gears moving in his brain. After a long moment, he relaxed. A soft chuckle eased from him, but there was no mirth in his tone. “I accept your terms on one condition. You must return my recording device to me before you leave.”
Warmth crept into her chest, and she pursed her lips so she wouldn’t smile. She gave him a quick nod.
A tic pulsed in his jaw, but he headed to the character board. With a quick flick of his fingers, he flashed through different screens until he pulled up the one for Kaelyn. He pressed on her button and deleted his red color. “You can claim Kaelyn now, she’s no longer a part of my team.”
Alora swallowed and stepped up to his board. Her pulse raced, the rush of blood making her light-headed. She placed her finger against Kaelyn’s chart. The small light turned green. She exhaled, relief tracking through her, flushing the adrenaline from her as quickly as it had come.
Zedron held out his palm. Lines formed around his perfect lips. He was one of the most handsome males she’d ever known and also the darkest of heart. “My disc.”
“Where’s Carine?”
The tic in his jaw pulsed again. “Carine!” His voice boomed in the small space.
Hurried footsteps tracked across the upstairs floor to the top of the landing. With slow, deliberate steps, Carine shuffled down the stairs. Her focus drew from Zedron to Alora. The lines around her mouth tightened. “Yes, my lord?”
“Come here.” Zedron’s command burst from his clenched teeth.
Carine’s face blanched.
Alora spoke softly. “It’s all right, Carine. You’re coming with me.”
Carine’s audible inhale filled the room. She placed her hand over her mouth, and her attention returned to Zedron.
He waved her toward him, his movements quick, impatient. “Come here.”
Carine took a tentative step then hurried to obey, running to his side. She bowed low before him. “Please, I—”
He gripped Carine’s wrist and yanked her forward. She stumbled.
“Don’t hurt her!” Alora grabbed Zedron’s arm.
He shrugged her off. “Patience, Alora. I need to remove Carine’s tracking bracelet.” A vicious smirk tugged at his lip. “We can leave it on if you’d like. I have no problem with that.”
Alora huffed. “Remove it.”
He gave her a curt nod, his arrogance returning full force. Without dropping her gaze, he placed his thumb over the small display. A soft beep emitted from the device. The bracelet slipped from Carine’s wrist and clattered onto the wooden floor.
“Go, you belong to her now.” Zedron shooed Carine away.
Carine raced behind Alora. Her trembling fingers gripped Alora’s arm.
Alora reached into her pocket and snared the recording device. She held out her fist. With deliberate slowness, she uncurled her fingers and dropped the sphere in Zedron’s hand. “A fine bargain.”
Before he could respond, she gripped Carine’s hand and headed for the door, eager to get her friend home. As she grabbed the doorknob, Alora glanced over her shoulder.
A smug smile tugged at Zedron’s lips. “Thanks for stopping by.”