Page 143 of Bedeviled

“I’m fine,” I tell him, my eyes meeting the fairy’s. The term silly little fool flitters through my head.

Before I can even open my mouth, the Bargainer gives me a massively annoyed look. “Obviously I’m not going to help you, little witch.” He says the last part like an insult.

“Speak to her like that again, and I will cut out your tongue,” Memnon says, the low pitch of his voice drawing out goose bumps along my skin.

Across from me, the Bargainer smiles, and it’s full of nefarious intent. “Is that right?”

Maiden, Mother, Crone, this is impossible.

“There is a millennia-old fae princess from the Flora Kingdom named Eislyn Alder,” I rush out, “who has lived in exile on Earth for the last two thousand years as punishment for a failed coup against her father.”

The Bargainer stiffens as he hears my words, but he seems to be listening, so I continue on. “She’s been a menace here in the human world ever since,” I say, “one Memnon and I have had personal experiences with. And we now have reason to believe she’s going to try to return to the Otherworld and reclaim the Flora Kingdom throne.”

The fairy’s gaze flicks over me; his eyes then move reluctantly to Memnon, who has prowled closer to us.

“And you want me to what, stop her?” the Bargainer says, returning his attention to me.

“To be completely honest,” I say, “I hadn’t really meant to call on you with that fancy card of yours. But now that you’re here, and you happen to know the threat, and you’re an actual king with actual power—yeah, stopping her would be great.”

The Bargainer smooths his shirt down, looking deeply put out. “Why should I insert myself into the politics of another nation simply to stop a contender for the crown? She sounds like a legitimate heir.”

Memnon steps up next to me and places a hand at the base of my neck. I glance over at him. His eyes are still glowing as he stares impassively at the Bargainer. His magic, however, lashes about us, restless and wild.

“She wants my soul mate.” My voice breaks as I stare at Memnon, who’s still consumed by his power.

The Bargainer’s eyes move between the two of us, and I think he might be softening until he says, “This all sounds very dire for you and Sugar Daddy here, but I still don’t see how this is my problem.”

He turns, beginning to walk to the door out of the office.

“Eislyn has an army of demons and other supernaturals that she’s bonded to her, and she controls them with absolute power,” I say.

The fairy pauses, and I barrel on, determined not to lose this chance. “She will use them to get her throne, just as she will use Memnon.”

The Bargainer hasn’t turned around, but he also hasn’t made another move to leave again.

“If you really are an Otherworld king,” I say, “then I promise you Eislyn is going to be a problem. If not now, then once she gets her throne. She has spent her life building and toppling empires. It’s how she entertains herself. She won’t stop at her own kingdom.”

Now the Bargainer turns; now he’s listening.

“You said you have a wife—a queen,” I continue. “If you care about her⁠—”

The room darkens. In response, Memnon’s power rises, meeting the threat.

“She might not be safe,” I say to the Bargainer. “I wasn’t.” I swallow.

The fairy tilts his head, as though he’s listening to something we can’t hear.

His gaze drops to my stomach, then travels up to my face. “You’ve made your point.” After a moment, he says, “Tell me all you know about Eislyn.”

I glance at Memnon again, whose magic is still riding him hard, unsure whether he wants to add to this as well. But the monster that’s consumed my mate at the moment has taken no interest in strategizing, and my heart constricts at the cost Memnon is paying for his own power.

“It’s going to take a while.”

“I’ve got time.”

I clear my throat, glancing behind me at the open wall of windows. “Could you at least fix the glass for me? It’s fucking cold.”

The Bargainer stares at me for a moment, then I see his shadowy magic snake out, tendrils of it reaching far past the gaping opening. Several moments later, thousands of shards of glass float up from far below and fit themselves back into the panes. Memnon’s desk grinds forward, away from the ledge as the windows reform. Once all the glass is filled in, the seams between each piece smooth until the windows are whole and clear once more.