Into Evernight: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Fearless Destiny Book 2) Page 5

  Dressed in a loose silken robe and layered coloured fabric, she was an explosion of colour. Her hair, a pale blue streaked with white, was piled atop her head in artful disarray, but her face was youthful and unlined. She could have been my older sister.

  “She is truly delightful, Baal. You have impeccable taste. Impeccable.” He gaze snagged on my birthmark, but she looked away quickly.

  Bullshit. There was no way she thought I was delightful. I toyed with the idea of sneering at her, just to see if she’d think that was delightful too, but decided against it. It probably wouldn’t mesh with the role of a dutiful whore.

  What did dutiful whores do?

  Oh yeah, that. Well that wasn’t happening, so I’d just follow Baal’s lead.

  We were congregated in the marble hallway, named by me due to all the marble—marble floor, marble walls, and marble staircase. Marble, marble, marble. Thank goodness I had the new prosthetic, a less able-bodied person could easily slip on all the bloody marble and break a bone or too.

  “Come, come, you must be exhausted after your journey.” She raised a brow at Baal. “Was it a long journey? I assume it was. You were gone for weeks.”

  “I’m not telling you where I was, Mother.”

  “Pfft! You know I can keep a secret. Was it a secret rendezvous? Ooo, was it a lover’s tryst? Is it how you met this delightful creature?”

  I caught Baal’s eye roll, but his mother didn’t, she was too busy gliding across the floor to the marble staircase.

  “I hope you will take me into your confidence someday, Son. It pains me that you continue to hold me at a distance.” She turned at the bottom of the staircase and offered me a delicate pout. “I raised him you know—from a boy to a man—and still he holds me at arm’s length. I know I will never replace his mother, but have I not been a mother to him?”

  She was staring at me, and I realised she was actually asking me a question. “Um …”

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Baal said. “Mother, she barely knows you, how can you expect her to answer that?”

  She waved a hand dismissively, her eyes misting. “Oh, one day she will know the burdens of a mother’s heart. Maybe when she bears you little sharmuta spawn?”

  I almost choked on my tongue. Was that a calculating gleam in her eyes? And spawn? Seriously?

  Baal’s lips tightened. “She is not with child.”

  “Ah, shame. Maybe soon.” She didn’t sound sorry. In fact, she sounded relieved. “Well, I assume you’ll like to freshen up?”

  Baal nodded. “We will see you later.”

  “Yes, yes, and if you need anything, anything at all, just ring the bell. I’ll bring it up personally.”

  Baal nodded and slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. His scent enveloped me for a brief moment, making me lightheaded. I swayed against him before regaining my balance.

  “Not with child you say?” his mother asked.

  I gave her a tight smile. “Definitely not.”

  “Oh, that voice! I can see why you chose her, Baal. So sultry.”

  Was this woman for real?

  I felt Baal’s sigh and placed my hand on his chest in a placating gesture without thinking. He covered my hand with his own. I looked up and was captured in a soft emerald gaze that seemed to pull me ever closer. My fingers flexed, fisting his shirt, and his arm tightened around my waist, pressing me against him.

  “Oh, my, yes you should definitely freshen up.” She giggled, breaking the strange spell.

  “Yes, freshen up,” Baal’s tone was low and husky. He cleared his throat, breaking our eye contact. “Come Kenna, let me show you my chambers.”

  He led me upstairs, his arm a reassuring band around my waist.

  “Oh, how wonderful. How truly wonderful.” His mother’s voice followed us up the stairs and down the corridor.

  9

  Baal shut the door to his personal chambers, and I fell into the nearest seat—a deep purple chaise longue. The room was open and airy: cream walls, dark furnishings, cream drapes, a low table surrounded by cushions, a built-in wardrobe, and a bed—a huge fuck of a bed. I tore my gaze away from the obscenely large item and back to the matter at hand.

  “Oh, my god! Is she always like that?”

  Baal rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

  “I know you said she was saccharine but, wow.”

  “And now she believes you may be with child.” He shook his head. “That will keep her on her toes for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “An heir for me means more competition for the lordship for her.”

  Baal strolled into the room, unbuttoning his shirt. His lean fingers flicked open the top two buttons of his shirt flashing me some tanned chest. Shit, was I actually intending to watch him undress?

  Jumping up as if I’d been stung on my ass I headed for the door. “Maybe I should wait outside?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you some privacy.”

  “You’re supposed to be my sharmuta, Kenna. If someone saw you outside they’d start to ask questions.”

  “Right.”

  “If it bothers you so much you could just turn around.”

  He finished unbuttoning his shirt, revealing taunt bronzed abs. The back of my neck was on fire. I needed to look away.

  I couldn’t look away.

  His hands went to the waistband of his trousers. I spun on my heel, but not before I clocked the amused glint in his eyes.

  Was he toying with me?

  Maybe I should turn back around and watch the show, just to prove how unaffected I was. The only problem was if I did that I’d probably end up proving myself wrong. That scent was in the air again. The liquorice aroma. It tickled my senses, reminding me I couldn’t trust myself.

  “I’m done.”

  I exhaled and turned to face him.

  The cream shirt had been replaced with a pale turquoise one. It brought out the indigo in his hair and the green in his eyes. Loose yoga pants and bare feet added to the relaxed sexy vibe.

  Sexy?

  Urgh, what the heck was wrong with me?

  “Kenna? Do you need a moment?”

  “Huh?”

  “To freshen up?”

  His gaze flicked to my leg, and once again my neck heated, but this time in embarrassment.

  “I’m fine. The new prosthetic is pretty comfortable.”

  I didn’t need to keep adjusting it or taking it off to let my leg breathe, and to be honest, until he mentioned it I’d almost forgotten I was wearing it. I’d almost forgotten that I was half a woman. I’d made this mistake with Erebus—believing he saw me for the women I used to be and not the woman I’d become. I wouldn’t do it again with Baal.

  I grasped the door handle. “Maybe we should go back down?”

  “Kenna?” His tone was a gentle caress to the nape of my neck.

  I swallowed. “Yeah?”

  “It’s only been ten minutes.”

  Releasing the door handle, I turned to face him. “So?”

  His lips twitched. “You’re supposed to be my sharmuta, and if you were then we’d be spending at least a couple of hours in this room before re-emerging.”

  A couple of hours? Even with Blane it had been twenty minutes on a good day. What would Baal do for two whole hours? The question must have shown on my face, because the mirth seeped from Baal’s expression and his gaze grew intense.

  “Would you like to find out?”

  My heart almost smashed out of my ribs.

  His lips twitched. “Goodness, calm down, Kenna, I was joking. Your face. Oh god.”

  I exhaled sharply. Of course he was joking. “We have to stay in here?”

  He chuckled. “Come, have you ever played Qarom?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then I shall show you.”

  He walked over to the humungous bed and crouched to pull out a hidden drawer. He withdrew a large wooden board and placed it on the bed before grabbing some flat round discs that looked like hockey pucks. He climbed up onto the monolithic construction and then patted the space beside him.

  I stared at the spot on the mattress.

  He quirked a brow. “We have two hours to kill Kenna, unless you’d rather do something more … recreational.”

  I was across the room and on that bed as fast as my prosthetic could carry me.

  “Okay, so how do you play this game?”

  Baal picked up a puck. “Well …”

  _____

  I was decidedly bad at Qarom—a game which required me to flick the pucks around the board to get them into the pockets in each corner. It was kinda like a cross between hockey and pool.

  By the time we were done, my face hurt from laughing, and my hair was a mess from the number of times I’d tried to yank it out in frustration or run my fingers through it.

  “That was one of the most enjoyable two hours of my life,” Baal said.

  I looked up from gathering the pucks, expecting to see the glint of humour in his eyes but found something else, something I didn’t understand. It made my stomach quiver and my breath short.

  I dropped my gaze to the board.

  “I’m starving.”

  “Come, we will go find some food. My mother keeps an all-day buffet going.” His tone was suddenly all business.

  “All day, just for herself?”

  “For my lothario of a brother too.”

  “When can we see your sister?”

  He pushed the board back into its slot under the bed. “Later, once Mother leaves for her evening socialising. I’d rather she were not aware of our visit with Ariana.”

  I nodded. “Okay, let’s go get some grub.”

  _____

  The dining room was a little over-the-top opulent for my tastes. The table could have easily held thirty people, and one end was laden with a variety of dishes, from boiled seasoned eggs, to spicy looking concoctions of potatos, vegetables, and lentils, to aromatic breads, speckled with some kind of tiny green leaves.

  At the other end of the table sat Baal’s mother, sipping amber fluid from a wine glass. A young man, who I could only assume was Baal’s brother, lounged on a chair, an arm slung over one of the armrests, and a leg sung over the other. His eyes were huge and dark like his mother’s, and he was staring at me with an expression I’m sure he believed to be come hither but was more I’m-holding-in-a-fart.

  Baal shook his head, his lips turning down slightly. He picked up a plate and laden it with food before leaning in to whisper in my ear.

  “You will sit in my lap.”

  Huh?

  He gave me a pointed look.

  Shit, yeah. I was playing a part. Although it would have helped if he’d clued me in on this before we left his chambers.

  And then he was taking my hand and leading us to a vacant seat at the other end of the table, and there was literally no time to dwell on it. Baal placed the plate on the table, pulled back a seat and sat. His eyes darted up to meet mine so quickly, I would have missed it if I’d blinked.

  It was my cue to sit in his lap. He wrapped his left arm around my waist, pulling me close. This was way too intimate. Intimate but comfortable until something hard dug into my thigh.

  Oh god.

  I couldn’t look at him.

  He pressed his lips to my ear. “Feed me, Kenna.”

  A shiver skipped down my spine, and my belly did it’s tell-tale quiver.

  Leaning forward, I plucked a piece of crisp bread off the plate, trying my best not to rub up against him. I scooped some of the lentil concoction on to it, catching a little on the tips of my fingers and held it to his lips. He didn’t open his mouth, so I reluctantly raised my lashes to look into his eyes.

  Man, I wish I hadn’t done that.

  He devoured me from beneath hooded lids, and suddenly I wasn’t hungry for food any more, suddenly the hardness digging into me was all I could think about. He opened his mouth and I popped the bread in. I made to drop my hand, but he captured it, holding it immobile while he chewed. What was he playing at? Was this some new ritual I had to observe? He swallowed and turned his attention to my lentil-dipped fingers.

  No …

  I gasped, trying to tug free, but his grip was relentless. He took my fingers into his mouth, rolling his tongue around them, his pupils dark and dilated. A low moan filled the air, and I realised with a stab of heat to my loins that the sound was coming from me.

  I hadn’t signed up for this, hadn’t agreed to him making me feel this way with that sweet intoxicating scent making me throb in all the right places.

  I turned away, breathing through my mouth and picked up some more bread, but Baal stopped me with a gentle finger to the wrist. Instead, he picked up a grape and lifted it to my lips. So this was a two -way street huh? Something wicked sat up and purred inside me. Let’s see how he liked it. I grasped his wrist as he popped the grape in my mouth.

  He raised a brow. I raised one back, chewed, swallowed, and then before I could think too hard on it, took his index finger into my mouth, and sucked.

  His hardness jumped beneath me, and his chest rumbled against me in a low purr.

  “Well, this is certainly entertaining, mind sharing?”

  The low purr turned into a growl as Baal swept blazing eyes toward his brother. “She’s mine!”

  His brother held up his hands. “You always were terrible at sharing, ever since you were a child.”

  “Oh, come now Amon, your brother has always been extremely gracious to us.”

  “Yeah, thanks for letting us continue to live in this house after Father passed away,” Amon said, his tone bitter.

  I glanced at Baal, but he was too casually piling some more lentils on to bread. He held it to my lips. I allowed him to feed me. Thank god his attention was diverted.

  “So Amon, what have you been doing with your time and my money?” Baal asked.

  Amon snorted. “Taking after my big brother it seems, except I can’t afford to keep a whore of my own, so I settle for visiting.”

  I flinched at the word whore, anger rising in my breast, but I bit it back. This was just an act.

  Baal’s arm tightened around me. “Well, maybe if you found some suitable employment you could work your way up the ranks.”

  Amon opened his mouth, but a sharp glance from his mother had him closing it again. He was a handsome man, if a little soft looking. His chin was a little too weak, his eyes a little too big, he reminded me of an indignant puppy.

  “There was something that we wished to discuss with you,” his mother said. “You’ve been taking such long trips, not that we mind of course, but making decisions in your absence is proving difficult.” She pouted. “The locals more often than not do not recognise my authority, and it is so undignified to have to insist. So we were thinking …”

  She glanced at Amon, who rolled his eyes.

  “She wants to be named Overlord in Absentia.”

  Baal tensed beneath me, but not in a good way.

  “No.”

  “No?” Amon shook his head in disgust, “I told you he wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “And why should I?”

  “Because I am your mother, and I deserve to be respected!” Her eyes flashed, and I caught a glimpse of the real person behind the saccharine facade.

  Baal slammed his fist on the table with such force the plates rattled and I jumped.

  “And so do my people!”

  She reared back as if he’d slapped her.

  I felt Baal’s exhale.

  When he next spoke, his voice was even and calm. “If you asked them nicely, instead of demanding, they would give you the world. They actually work for a living, and they deserve to be respected for what they provide.”

  His mother swallowed and patted her mouth with a napkin. “Well, I see you have been listening to viscous lies again.”

  Baal rolled his eyes. “Why did you not receive the messenger that came to the door yesterday?”

  She shrugged. “I was busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  His mother stilled, a red stain climbing up her neck to spread across her cheeks, and for a moment I thought she was going to lose it, but then she exhaled, placed her napkin on the plate beside her, and pushed back her chair.

  “I don’t have to listen to this. I have an engagement I must get ready for.”

  And with that she glided from the room.

  Baal picked up his goblet and took a swig before turning to his brother. “What do you know of the ship docked in the bay?”

  Amon blinked rapidly, but his face remained impassive. “There’s a ship?”

  Baal took another drink. “You’re not as adept at deceit as Mother, Amon. It would serve you well to remember who pays for your little luxuries. You’re carriage rides, your whores, your—”

  “Fine I get it!” Amon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t know who owns the ship, but I think Mother may have something to do with it.”

  “How so?”

  “I was headed back from an assignation when I spotted the ship in the bay. I didn’t think much of it, I was a little inebriated to say the least, but as I snuck in through the house—Mother hates it when I come in late—I heard her talking to someone in the parlour. Didn’t catch much, just the words ship and promised export.”

  “And you didn’t think to question her about it?”

  He ran his hands over his face. “Seriously? You know what she’s like. I didn’t care for the hassle.”

  “Dammit, Amon, if anything were to happen to me, the Overlord mantle would fall on your shoulders. You may not have the title now, you may never have the title, but you should always behave as if you are worthy of it.”

  Amon’s face drained of colour and his bottom lip quivered; for a moment I thought he was about to bawl but he reined it in.

  He sat up straight and pushed back his shoulders. “You’re hardly ever here. You don’t know what it’s like living with her.”

  “I remember just fine, Amon. Believe me.”

  Amon sighed. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll … I’ll do something.”

  Baal inclined his head, and Amon pushed back his seat and stood. “I’ll see you in the morning brother. If you’re still here.”

  -->