“I see. That’s why you both have been little bastards in my city ever since you were born.” The Jarl gives Lærke and Mikkel a level and uncompassionate look as he understands. “For what it’s worth, your traitorous parents deserved what they got, but I was not the one who betrayed them. Although… he does stand in this hall with you, right now, under the guise of being your ally. If you want retribution… I’ll let you try to take it.”
As the Jarl’s gaze flicks at Emil Beck and the rest of the captives, a horrible sinking sensation fills me. Aesa’s Truthstone flares on my chest, and a deep instinct I was barely aware of seethes through me.
That instinct comes with fire, rushing through my veins as my inner drakaina and drake both snarl. Because somehow, deep down, I knew Emil Beck wasn’t an ally, always so generous to help us.
But an enemy.
That snarl fills every part of me now. I turn like I’m in a horror movie to see Emil step casually out from behind the seething wall of the Jarl’s containment like it’s nothing. None of the other dragons with him can cross it; Emil steps through that roar of magic and darkness like he’s walking through a sweet morning breeze, however.
It shocks the Jarl, too; the old mercenary doesn’t show much, but a flicker of his dark eyelashes tells me he didn’t know Emil was that powerful.
To trump all the copious warding and curse-work he’s got, all throughout this ancient hall.
“Jarl Christensen. A moment of your time, if you would. I have a proposition that you just might wish to hear before making any kind of rash move you might regret.”
Emil Beck is casual now as he moves forward, standing somewhat aloof as a third party in our tense talk. Lithe and trim, Emil’s body shows no age whatsoever, even though a subtle roar of his power in the hall confirms he’s old as fuck.
I don’t know how old, and it’s clear Jarl Christensen doesn’t either, as I watch him subtly bristle from standing near all the sudden fire and brimstone that is Emil, which was always so hidden from everyone before.
But as Emil smiles his generous, hotel proprietor smile, lifting one hand to slick back his already immaculately coiffed hair, eventhough he’s naked from having shifted down from his dragon earlier, I finally feel the dagger in him.
Though his words are genteel and he’s fought his way into the palace as our ally… I know he’s not, to my very blood and bones.
Emil’s black eyes shine as he glances at me and nods. And I know he’s about to use the ancient dagger of his personhood, and his power.
And thrust it right into my back.
25
DEAL
Tense silence fills the Jarl of Copenhagen’s hall as Emil Beck steps into our standoff. Because that’s what it is, a three-way fuckstorm, as we all regard each other like snakes and mongooses now.
But I’m not sure who the biggest snake is, as Emil Beck smiles his fellow-well-met smile at Jarl Christensen, darkly odious. If we were in the American old west, this would be a shootout about to combust. We’re dragons, though—and it’s a whole helluva lot worse, as I wonder what in the actual fuck Emil Beck wants.
And what he’s about to use as a bargaining chip to get it.
“Jarl Christensen. I would like to do a deal.” Emil Beck pins Mikkel and Lærke with his gaze, then flicks it back to the Jarl.
“I’m listening.” It’s clear Jarl Alexander Christensen has no problems dealing with the devil, as he juts his chin at Emil Beck. “Continue.”
The most horrid smile devours Emil’s face.
A face I want to punch repeatedly until it caves the fuck in from my wrath.
“As I said before, I would like to do a deal.” Emil continues as he waves nonchalantly at my drakes and me. “The Thorsen twins and their entireempire, including their dragons captured here in your hall, in exchange for a truce between your bloodline and the Bloodwalkers and their mates here in Denmark. You take these gifts now and all the money the Thorsen’s empire can bring you, doing whatever you like with them… then permit me to do all dealings I need to here in Denmark and in Copenhagen. You’ll ask no questions and turn a blind eye to everything I do with my Bloodwalker and her other mates here in the city. Indefinitely. Oh, and you can havethisparticular Bloodwalker and all her drakes here. Consider it a goodwill gift… since I know you’re working so hard to bring down the entire Blood Dragon monarchy right now. Of which our Hög Skjaldmær is most definitely a part.”
As Emil speaks, Jarl Christensen’s grey-black brows scowl. His jaw is set, his bloody red gaze flinty as Emil stops speaking. For a moment, nothing happens, as the Jarl evaluates this clearly mega-fuck-ton powerful drake, who has just admitted precisely what he is.
The bound mate of a Bloodwalker.
But though Emil has stated clear terms, he hasn’t told the Jarl just exactly what he wants to do in Copenhagen with his unknown Bloodwalker mate.
Nor how much it might cost this city and Jarldom.
“You protect Bloodwalkers and their mates, you always have, in that ungodly establishment of yours. Now you have openly admitted you are the mate of one.” The Jarl is intense now as he stares Emil down, waving a hand at me and my drakes. “Why give up these? It’s anathema to your agenda.”
“I would see all Bloodwalkers and their mates come into a far more glorious time, like when we were a dominant power in the world, and all of Blood Dragondom bowed to us,” Emil says now as he smiles genially at the Jarl. “For there was such a time, long ago. And these six here are openly trying to oppose my Bloodwalker’s efforts to revive it.”
