The Ravenous Dark, page 38
Bailey shuddered out an exhalation and gave a jerky nod. Raphael's eyes narrowed.
"Say it out loud."
"I understand."
Victory flashed over his features as he opened the door, his eyes never leaving Bailey's as she got her first glimpse of his room. A king-size four-poster bed dominated the center, with black silk sheets and a velvety duvet draped across it artfully. The walls were left bare save the candlelit wall sconces.
"After you."
Bailey tucked up her chin at the devilish gleam in his eyes.
"Let's strive for better than good this time around," she said as she strutted past him. He bit back a smile as she entered his room, his eyes devouring her as she passed.
"As you wish," he responded, closing the door behind them.
"Until next time, pet." Raphael's parting kiss grazed her knuckles. A simmer of longing seeded in her heart at the affectionate gesture.
She tugged her hand from his and offered a shaky smile. There'd been no reprieve from his endless appetite until Bailey’s stomach had sounded off in a dramatic grumble. He’d brought in a small assortment of snacks and a pitcher of water that Bailey devoured without a second thought. Raphael had watched on in amusement, picking at the scraps Bailey left idly as he commented on the similarity of the moans she made while eating and those while under him.
Under him. On top of him. On my knees before him… The list went on and on in her mind.
Bailey was sore in places that made her blush. As if sensing her train of thought, Raphael laughed.
"A long hot bath and some rest will work wonders, both of which you can do here if you like. In fact, I insist. The shower you took barely lasted ten minutes. That’s hardly enough time to let your muscles soak in all that heat.” Raphael’s eyes darkened as they took her in from head to toe. “Then perhaps next time I can show—"
Bailey shook her head vigorously at his offer and took a large step back. "My shower was thorough enough, I assure you." She’d scrubbed her body with military precision until it was tender to the touch, and there was no trace of him left on her. Bailey swallowed and straightened the line of her shoulders. “And there definitely isn't going to be a next time." Raphael raised a brow. "Seriously. This was a one-time thing."
"Of course," he demurred, though his expression said the opposite. "I'll see you around then?"
Bailey made some unintelligible noise that wavered somewhere between possibly and not a chance in hell, before hauling his front door open and fleeing. Once she put enough distance between them, she slowed her pace.
It was just after noon, early by court standards, and there were only a handful of supernaturals out. Bailey's gaze roved over them. They were shifters and mostly Wildings at that. Her gait slowed even more as her eyes landed on Franklin up ahead. She was making her way down from the fourth subfloor with the leopard shifter twins, Kamara and Kane.
Bailey frowned as she moved to the wall to observe their interaction in a more inconspicuous manner.
Franklin smiled widely at the two before throwing her head back with a crow of delight as Kamara snickered. Kane scowled at the two and stalked down the next flight of stairs to the sixth subfloor. He was dressed uncommonly nice in a suit that made him look like the villain in a James Bond story, with his unruly curls slicked back into a bun.
The women ignored him and continued at their unhurried pace. Reaching the floor's landing, they stopped. Kamara placed a kiss on Franklin's cheek that lingered uncomfortably long. Bailey almost looked away when she caught Kamara slip a long, tan envelope into Franklin's awaiting palm.
Bailey inhaled sharply at the transaction and watched with bated breath as Kamara left. Franklin waited until the leopard shifter was out of sight before retrieving the envelope from her inner pocket.
She gave a cursory glance about the corridor, her gaze drifting over Bailey before darting back to her. Bailey exhaled as she held Franklin's gaze, waiting for her former boss to make a move.
Ever so slowly, a grin cut across Franklin's face. She pocketed the envelope once more and gestured Bailey over with a flick of her wrist.
Bailey went reluctantly.
Her fondness for the Wildings had soured to antipathy; convinced their praise and friendship was merely a guise to gain her trust and use her as they saw fit.
"I didn't know you had it in you, B. Raphael?" Franklin whistled and wiggled her eyebrows in jest. "So, how was he? I heard he's into bondage; is that true?"
"Since when are you on friendly terms with the Fawzy twins? Or have your precious Wilding standards finally given way to your greed?"
Franklin's grin died. "So, it's going to be like that, is it?"
"Yeah," Bailey replied with a caustic smile, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's going to be like that."
Franklin ran her tongue over her teeth, contemplating Bailey. "After everything we've done for you—"
"What the hell have you ever done for me that didn't come with a cost?" Bailey cut in.
Franklin's jaw worked, and her eyes flashed with ire. "Does Luka Krovopuskov ring a bell, or have you conveniently forgotten how we helped you cover up his murder?"
"I didn't murder him." Bailey cast her gaze furtively. "It was the rabidus curse."
"Was it?" Franklin cocked her head. "I mean… you can't really prove that."
Bailey flushed at Franklin's smug grin.
"Neither can you," she spat.
Franklin laughed, soft at first, and then with her whole body. Bailey took a step back, glaring at the shifter courtiers who peered at them curiously.
"Enough," Bailey growled.
Franklin wiped at the corner of her eyes and calmed her cackling. "Enough? Oh, I haven't even begun, B. You didn't really think I'd let you off the hook that easily? Once a Wilding, always a Wilding. Didn't you get the memo? We've got insurance set aside for every member in case they get cold feet. "
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Just what it sounds like." Franklin stepped into Bailey's personal space. In a hushed voice, she said, "It would be a shame if Luka's body were to crop up unexpectedly, say, near or around a certain female hybrid whose been vocal in their disdain for him."
Bailey paled. "The body was destroyed."
"Was it?" Franklin countered. Her voice was light, and eyes keen to every minuscule facial movement Bailey made.
"You're lying."
“Normally, a body as old as his would turn to dust, but there’s something about the rabidus curse that keeps them oddly preserved.” Franklin chuckled, clearly relishing Bailey's mounting dread.
"Bailey?"
Her head snapped in the direction of the stairs, and Bailey's eyes landed on Stella. Her friend looked wane as her gaze darted between the pair. She was coming from the sixth subfloor. Bailey swallowed the thick lump in her throat, uncertain as to how much she'd overheard.
"You know what? I think I've had a change of heart. Consider yourself off the bench and come find me at six," Franklin said as she slapped Bailey's arm, then patted her jacket surreptitiously. "I've got a job you'd be perfect for."
"Like hell, I will."
"You will." Franklin rolled her shoulders and spoke with authority that made Bailey bite down on her tongue. "Or else Irina Vrana is going to get a nasty surprise." Franklin smiled brightly, then walked off.
Bailey cursed and hid her face briefly in her hands as she tried to settle her rattled nerves. That did not go as planned.
"Are you all right?" Stella asked.
Bailey's hands flopped to her side. "I can handle Franklin." Somehow. Stella stood on the last step of the stairs watching Bailey warily. "What were you doing down there this early?"
Stella's cheeks transformed to vibrant red as she directed her gaze to the floor. "I wanted to grab a drink." Bailey scowled. "I'm trying all right," Stella snapped, anticipating her friend's rebuke. "But it's hard. Is that honest enough for you?"
The air between the two was riddled with pain that only scratched the surface. Bailey's shoulders sagged. She was tired of fighting and drained from her exploits with Raphael.
"Can we go talk somewhere private?" Bailey asked.
Stella hesitated, then nodded. Her shoulders sagged as she pointed a finger down the hall. "We can go to my room."
"So." Bailey cleared her throat awkwardly as Stella sat rigidly on the end of her loveseat. The banshee's hands looked as if they were fused together.
"You didn't show up last night," Stella said.
"Fuck." Bailey's palm met her face in a satisfying smack, and she rubbed at her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Stella. I totally forgot."
"Why didn't you show up?"
Anxiety cinched Bailey's stomach. "It's… complicated," Bailey said lamely.
Stella snorted. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth as an undignified laugh tried to follow. Bailey stared at her in shock. Then frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What's so funny exactly?"
"Sorry." Stella fought to catch her breath and rein in her untimely burst of laughter. Once she did, a smile of tired understanding was left standing on her lips. "It's just that if there's anyone you can talk to about complicated things, it's me."
Bailey's frown softened. "Are you talking about your super-secret banshee power?"
Stella's smile faltered, but she nodded. Brushing her hair behind her ears, she took a deep breath and explained herself. "I can sing."
"Okay." Bailey elongated the word as she eyed Stella. "And why is that a secret? I thought the goal was to get you to sing, so you didn't have to, you know, scream all the time."
Stella directed her gaze at the floor, unable to hold Bailey's eye. "My songs… they can paralyze people, Bailey. The entire time they’re awake and powerless," she confessed.
"Whoa, what?" Bailey, who'd been standing opposite her, plopped down in the seat next to Stella. "How did you find this out?"
Stella shot Bailey a grimace. "It was my last night contracting for the Delacroix. I tagged along with Caroline and Natalie to the Turkish bathhouse. It was late. Most of the court had retired to their rooms or were heading that way, which meant the bathhouse wouldn't be crowded.
"We sat on opposite ends of the hot room, and I was singing under my breath. I didn't think it would disturb them. But when I glanced over, I noticed they were seated so strangely. Natalie's arm was held out, and Caroline's head was half-craned toward me. I knew right away something was wrong.
"At first, I thought it might be some sorcerer or sorceress playing a prank, but there was nobody else in the room with us." Stella chewed on her bottom lip as she sat up straight. "I don't know when I stopped singing exactly; sometime between realizing they were frozen and looking for the culprit, I guess. When I looked back, the spell had worn off." Stella's face paled. "Before I could comprehend what had happened or why, Caroline rushed me." Her fingers grazed her throat. "She held me to the wall and demanded to know how I'd done it.
"When I couldn't explain, she spelled it all out for me. How they heard me singing and fell under my spell. How they were wide awake but couldn't move." She ducked her head. "How I'd left them vulnerable to attack."
Bailey stared at Stella in a stupor. "Holy shit."
Stella nodded. "She accused me of conspiring with the Vranas because I spend so much of my free time with you and River. I thought she was going to kill me, but then Natalie convinced her not to. She said I was their ticket to ascending in the household if they were the ones to present me to Count Delacroix as a secret weapon."
"They wanted to use you to paralyze courtiers with your song?" Stella heaved a sigh and nodded, passing Bailey a tired look.
"That way, they could kill people without a fight, or torture them knowing they'd be fully coherent but unable to do anything about it. Caroline was particularly excited about that."
"Damn, Stella." Bailey raked a hand through her hair, only to snag on several knots. "Is that why all the households are offering you absurd amounts of money?"
Stella mumbled her assent and flopped back against the loveseat. The tension holding her stiff vanished now that her secret was out.
"One of the Delacroix either tipped off the other households to my new ability or wasn't minding their tongue around the right people. Every night the whispers are getting louder about me and my song. I'm surprised more people don't know, but they will soon. Then I'll be even more of a freak than I was before."
"You're not a freak." Stella cast a sullen glare at Bailey that made the she-wolf laugh lightly. "You're not," she insisted and leaned back as well. "You are a marvel, Stella. You've got your sonic voice, and now this?" Bailey let out a low whistle. "This court better watch out."
Stella's glare faded as a rise of pink dusted her cheeks. "I don't want to help kill people."
"You don't have to. You have the negotiating power, not them."
Stella's shoulders shrank, and the color on her cheeks grew. "I'm not very good at negotiating. And even if I was, I'd probably be coerced or manipulated for another household's gain. It's why I was hoping the Vrana would offer a contract. They're one of the only households that wouldn’t do something like that."
"The Gunwyn?" Bailey voiced cautiously.
Stella shook her head, her lips pinching discreetly. "They're bonded with the Roux because of William and Fox."
"And the Roux would definitely try to manipulate you," Bailey agreed.
Taking in the new information, Bailey stood and began to pace, thinking of ways to help her.
Banshees didn't naturally possess the supernatural strength that the majority of courtiers did, but with her new powers, she could protect herself better. Which would mean a more rigorous training schedule for Stella. Which would rely on keeping River in the court longer and helping her break her curse. Which all depended on Bailey not going stir-crazy mad.
"Um, Bailey?"
The she-wolf's head snapped in Stella's direction. "Hmm?"
"You’re not all right are you?" she asked quietly.
Bailey didn't stop her pacing as she tore her eyes away from her friend's concerned regard. Her heart gave an unsteady lurch. "I'll be fine." Maybe. "I just need more time to figure things out and plan. And help you plan," she said with a harried glance at Stella. "And help River plan," she tacked on.
Anxiety roiled in her gut as her thoughts began to tumble over themselves. It felt like she was being tugged in a million different directions. Help her friends. Make peace with Ronan. Sleep with Raphael again. Bailey stopped in her tracks and shook her head. Scratch the last one—what am I thinking?
You're not thinking, a new voice taunted. You're going crazy.
"Bailey," Stella's voice sounded firm and in control, once more snapping Bailey back to reality.
"Huh? What? Did you say something?"
Stella frowned and sat up straight. "Whatever is going on, you can tell me. Complicated understands complicated—remember?"
The urge to pick up her pacing was almost insurmountable. Instead, Bailey rubbed at her chest to calm her heart.
"It's… a lot."
"That's okay," Stella reassured her. "Just talk, and I'll listen. No judgment, just a friend helping a friend, yeah?"
Bailey's mouth ran dry. Where did she begin? With Ronan? River? Or—"I slept with Raphael."
Stella's mouth formed an O. A litany of emotions crossed her face as she nodded.
"That's why I didn't show up last night to help you train. I was tied up with him." Literally, for an hour. Raphael had taken great pains to make sure she couldn't touch him at first, securing her spreadeagled to his bed, so he could have his wicked way with her.
"I, um, I thought you liked Ronan?" Stella asked tentatively.
"I fucking love Ronan, but he doesn't feel the same," Bailey answered, tears forming in her lash line. "He's made that clear in the numerous rejections I've received from him." Bailey wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Is that why you slept with Raphael? Because Ronan… rejected you? To make him jealous or something"
"No," Bailey said. "Yes. Maybe. Gods, I have no idea," she groused. "Raphael said he could make me forget about my troubles, and he did." Bailey cast her eyes heavenward. "Honestly, it was the best sex I've ever had. It was unbelievably hot but also sort of meaningless," she rambled. "There was nothing personal about it."
Bailey glanced at Stella. She stared steadfastly at her kitchenette, and Bailey's stomach dropped to her feet.
"I thought you said no judgment!" Bailey cried.
Stella startled and looked at Bailey wide-eyed. "I'm not judging!" she rushed to say, her cheeks taking on blotchy red spots.
"Then why do you have that look on your face?"
"I don't have any look on my face," Stella lied badly.
Bailey groaned. "It's because he's a demon, isn't it? Shit. You're pretty much the nicest person at court. If this is your reaction, what will Ronan's be?"
"I'm not judging you, Bailey," Stella insisted as she rose. Her flush said otherwise to Bailey.
"If you're not judging me, then why do you look like that?"
Stella slammed her eyes shut and fisted her hands at her side. "Because he's my soulmark!"
XXIV
Bailey's addled mind had difficulty comprehending Stella's confession. The longer the silence went on, the further confusion settled over the she-wolf.
"What?"
Stella peeked at Bailey, winding her arms around her middle as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. "I'm not mad that you slept with him or anything, honestly. I was just surprised."
Bailey cleared her throat. "I didn't even know demons could—"
"Me either," Stella interrupted quickly.
"When did you find out?"
Stella's blush flared. "That first night we trained. He took off his shirt, and he had all those runes on his chest. We have the same mark in the same place." She pointed to the bottom of her sternum.
Bailey didn't know what to say except, "Fuck."
The expletive broke the odd tension riding between them, and Stella laughed. "My thoughts exactly. I was under the impression people sold their souls to become demons and get their powers."
