Page 23 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)
We didn’t speak until the server delivered our wine and drifted away.
“Would you stop that?” I hissed, frowning at Cormac across the table.
He arched a brow, and his green eyes flashed with anger. “Why can’t I admire the scenery?”
I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Perhaps our time would be better spent figuring out how to get to Shay before he is thrust in front of the Dark King?” Tor lifted a brow as he reached for his wine.
“Are you sure we should rescue him?” Cormac rolled his eyes, his demeanor giving the air of a petulant youngling. “Maeve already has the two of you. Does she really need three Shíorghrá?”
My teeth mashed together. “Shay is your friend.” I pointed out. “Your ally.”
“Hmm.” Cormac snatched his glass and downed the wine in one swift movement. “He is also a Nymph with the ability to seduce an army. He can get past a few guards. Unless he needs your permission.”
I frowned. “My permission to seduce the guards?”
“To save himself.” Cormac corrected. “Why are we even here? We should just call it a wash and go back home. Maeve is the only one Balor wants. The Skala Isles and the Reeds would be safe enough from Balor’s wrath if Rainn and Tormalugh chose to return home without her.”
My hand curled into a fist, and I reached for the stone in my pocket. My heart roared in my ears, but this time it was different. I felt Cormac’s heartbeat, too.
How easy would it be? To force more blood through that pumping organ? To make it burst in his chest?
My skin turned cold.
What was wrong with me?
Would I really kill Cormac Illfinn? For suggesting something that I had thought of a dozen times before.
“We all want to go home,” I said carefully. “But Nuada sent us here for a reason.”
Cormac pursed his lips as if holding back a tidal wave of thoughts.
“If we don’t have Nuada on our side, there won’t be a lake to return to,” Tor stated plainly. “All roads lead to the Dark King. We require an audience with him. To ask our questions of Nuada’s eldest child.” He continued.
“We already knew the Dark King had something to do with all this.” Cormac sniped. “He has Darragh Eoin’s wings above his throne.”
“How do you know that?” Rainn squinted.
Cormac shifted in his seat. “The Siren Queen told me.”
“All roads lead to the Dark King.” I exhaled in defeat as I repeated Tor’s words.
“If what Captain Hallow said is true, all demons are tried by the king.”
“And killed!” My voice hitched, though I tried to control my emotions.
“What if we allowed ourselves to be captured?” Rainn spoke over the rim of his glass. “We may be able to plead Shay’s case. Make a bargain of sorts? Perhaps even learn what happened to Darragh Eoin—if the king did not kill him himself.”
“What sort of bargain could we offer?” I said hopelessly.
Cormac puffed up his chest. “I am the King of the Mer. Unrivalled in the skill of glamour. The Mer have treasures unseen in this world and magics unspoken. I’m certain I have plenty to entice an Unseelie king.”
“Plenty, huh?” Rainn eyed Cormac. “A moment ago, you said you had no desire to save Shay.”
“Well,” Cormac bristled. “We are on a mission, after all. Needs must.”
“What could we possibly do to get thrown in jail?” I wondered.
“I’m more than happy to fuck one of these lovely courtesans and skip out on the bill,” Cormac smirked.
“Go on then.” Rainn finished his drink, eyeing Cormac like a sea slug. “Go get a courtesan and fuck her. Feck it! We’ll all watch just to prove how much you don’t care that Shay Mac Eoin claimed Maeve this morning.”
Cormac’s cheeks turned a deep purple color. “I’ll do it.” He warned.
Tor and I watched as Rainn sat up and jabbed a finger against Cormac’s chest. “Go on then.”
Tor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe we should—”
“Feck off.” Cormac snarled, fighting the cushion as he stood. “I am a King . I don’t have to bow down to a gilded bint!”
Hurt slashed through me, turning my blood hot and cold at the same time.
And with that, he stormed away.
“Ladies and gentle-fae,” A beguiling voice wove through the gentle chatter of the brothel. “We welcome all to witness a rare event this evening. May I present the pride of Mistress Whitesnake and the House of Blissful Dreams— Lyra !”
Any conversation died a swift and jarring death. Utter silence as the heavy velvet curtains obscuring one of the walls pulled back, the fabric scraping against the wooden floor.
I hadn’t noticed the stage before. The floor was all on one level, and I was used to the raised platforms Sídhe favored. Irvine had always sat above the Esteemed Court.
A single shadow clung to the darkness, a spotlight overhead playing the part of the moon.
A single drum strike.
A practiced pose.
Ribbons.
It was impressive; I would give them that, though I couldn’t forget the location. Courtesans were paid, the fawning attention to the patrons, and even the dancer on the stage—a lure designed to fetch the highest price.
It was hard to find conversation for the duration of the dance. The entire room was mesmerized by Lyra and her strategically placed lighting.
As soon as the dance finished, with a well-timed drumroll and a shrill sung note, the stage burst into bright light, revealing Lyra the courtesan.
Bidding began shortly afterward.
Rainn tapped his hand on the table, unmoved when his eyes met mine. “I’ll enquire about the room.” He told me with a smile. “This is all too rich for my blood.”
“Agreed.” Tor griped.
A polite round of applause finished the bidding.
I tried not to notice as Cormac Illfinn approached the stage with coin in his hand.