Demon Slave (23 page)

Over Wren’s shoulder, her eyes settled on
her father’s throne—elaborately decorated, and elevated by rows of
delicately curved steps. It was where her father, and then later
Nadua, once sat. She was reminded of their unwavering dedication to
both her and the Cyrellian people. Her people.

In a low voice, Wren asked, “Do you know who
it will be?”

Ava had been to nearly every gathering,
learned every family name, and had studied the characters of each.
Though some have shown more dignity than others, none could take
the place of Nadua or her father. None could be what this kingdom
needed. Yet all flaunted a desire for the crown.

Ava replied, “The obvious decision would be
one of my aunts, but they are both so frivolous. I fear they would
focus more on how a queen should look, rather than how she should
act, or what she should be doing for the people.”

“
Do you think they could
ruin the kingdom in a few years?”

“
A few years is an eternity
for those in need. We are at war, though not many like to see it
that way. A competent leader is necessary.”

Wren gave her an approving look and their
eyes met. “What about you?” she whispered.

His smile faded. “If you could choose me, I
would be honored. But you know it’s not possible. I am not of noble
blood.”

Nor was most of the guard. But Wren would
make a better leader than any of the choices allotted her. In
truth, she cringed at the thought of any of them being in charge. A
wild idea that had been tickling the back of her mind
solidified.

“
I’ve made a decision,” she
declared.

Wren pulled back to look at her. He must
have seen something in her eyes because he released his hold, bowed
at the waist, and backed away, leaving Ava alone while jubilant
couples continued to dance around her.

It felt somewhat symbolic.

Resolved, she crossed toward the throne and
reached the first step. When she took it, a few nearby
conversations went silent. By the third step, half the room had
stilled. The fifth step increased her determination. And on the
last step, the musicians had ceased playing and she felt the entire
room watching her.

Trying to slow the pounding of her heart,
Ava turned to face them.

“
Welcome,” she started.
“Many of you have come to celebrate Jestina’s day of birth, as I
have. But I suspect that many of you present are eager to hear who
I will nominate as successor to Queen Nadua.”

Ava could no longer see Wren among the large
assembly. Her aunts, however, pushed through the crowd.

“
I have read that, under my
father’s rule, we built this amazing city from nothing. Under
Nadua’s rule, I have watched us thrive. We have seen tragedy, as
well as victory. Through tragedy, we have worked together to
overcome. And with each victory, we have celebrated as
one.”

Applause rang out.

“
My father loved his
people. As do I.”

Ava took a moment to breathe, preparing
herself for what she was about to do.

“
There are many of you who
would make a wonderful king or queen.” She paused before
continuing. “And there are many of you would not. I’m sure you all
have an opinion on the matter...but I won’t be hearing them. I will
be offering no nomination.”

A few gasps and grumbles came from the
crowd.

She swallowed hard and stood straighter.
“Here and now, I, Avaline of the House of Dion, daughter of Fineas
of the house of Dion, will be taking my rightful place as queen.”
With as much elegance as she could muster, Ava sat upon her
father’s throne.

A slow rumble of outrage rose.

She let it go a moment. Then her voice rose
with a kind of authority that surprised even her. “If anyone
objects, I invite you to come forth and speak your mind.”

The room went still. She caught the eyes of
her aunts who looked stunned into speechlessness.

Movement in the crowd claimed her attention.
Ava’s heart nearly stopped when it was Wren who stepped
forward.

Pausing just before the first step, he
pulled his sword. The sound of more metal being unsheathed echoed
around the room, but she kept her eyes on Wren. If he wasn’t with
her, then she was lost.

Balancing his weapon on two palms, Wren
knelt before her and placed it on the ground. More soldiers moved
beside him and did the same.

A significant silence coated the room. Ava’s
chin lifted to the crowd expectantly, though her heart was still
beating harshly. Some of the Nobles nearest to the throne gingerly
knelt. Then, in a wave, the rest followed.

Wren peeked an eye up at her and grinned
with pride. Ava finally swallowed the lump in her throat.

She was queen.

Today was a bad day.

Normally, Sonya had three willing demons to
spar with, to take out her frustrations on. Bastian, Cale, and
Marik didn’t realize it, but their sessions quite often kept her
from spiraling toward the Edge. Fighting kept her sane while
allowing her to bury other, more embarrassing, needs.

After a long morning in the control room,
she’d handed over command of the ship to her chosen second, Aidan,
and was now on the hunt for a sparring partner.

Sonya prided herself on being a fierce
fighter, and had built up quite a reputation that she was normally
very proud of.

Unfortunately, with the only three people
who would engage her in battle gone, she was having a difficult
time convincing someone to join her for a bout on the mat.

With every shake of the head, and hands
flying up in immediate surrender, Sonya was beginning to lose
ground on another kind of battle that had been raging inside her
since last night. She pushed the memory away as she stomped down
the hall.

Don’t think of
it
.

She’d been telling herself the same thing
all morning, but her mind always seemed to drift back to the way
his lips had felt.

Damn pirate! This was his fault. Hours of
training, meditating, and vigorous exercise, all designed to keep
her from focusing on such things, shattered by a kiss.

She’d only enjoyed it because she’d been a
little tipsy. Not because it was passionate, or demanding, or any
ridiculousness like that.

Sonya thought back to the last time she’d
been kissed. Surely it had been just as heated. She couldn’t
recall. What she did remember was that, soon after, the man had
started to grow increasingly uncomfortable around her brothers. He
hadn’t stayed on the ship long.

Sonya didn’t think that her brothers
intentionally kept males from wanting to pursue her. They didn’t
openly threaten anyone. Rather, it was in their manner, and a look
that said, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you slowly and with great
pleasure.”

Eventually, Sonya had given up on the whole
prospect, and instead focused on exercise and fighting. It had
worked for her thus far.

But she’d already gone through her normal
routine, and this time it wasn’t helping. She needed a good fight,
and there was only one person aboard who might be ignorant—or
arrogant—enough to comply. And because he was the cause, he owed
her a solution.

Entering The Demon’s Punchbowl, Sonya headed
straight for the bar. Ethanule’s dark blue eyes followed her with a
little too much intensity. Other than that, he was unreadable.

Sonya’s resolve faltered as she wondered
what he thought of her outfit—a tight purple bodice with a black
skirt that fell just above tall boots threaded with purple strings.
Scolding herself, she quickly morphed her inappropriate reaction
into fury.

His own dress was the usual Ethan garb. An
overly adorned neatly tailored coat, deep red and lined with gold
trim, hugged a fitted tan shirt. Dark brown trousers tucked into
heavy black boots with thick gold buckles completed the outfit.
Typical pirate. She would use it as a reminder of why she hated
him.

“
Captain,” he greeted with
his usual cavalier smile, as if nothing had happened between them.
“What brings you to my fine establishment?”

“
My
fine establishment,” she corrected.

“
Don’t worry,” he assured.
“For you, drinks are on the house.”

“
They better not be for
anyone else.”

“
Oh, only the most
important people.”

A nearby table of crew members raised their
glasses and cheered at Ethan’s words. The sound quickly died at
Sonya’s piercing glare, and the men pretended to look
elsewhere.

She faced Ethanule, ready to give him the
usual threats to his life, but he had moved to the other end of the
bar and was pouring a drink for Jade, one of the few people aboard
the ship who didn’t work as part of the crew. She paid a hefty sum
to be ferried around, with no real destination.

Like most of the people who
chose to enter space, Jade didn’t like staying in one spot for too
long.
Marada
provided a safe way for her to travel, with a little more
excitement than a standard cruise ship.

Jade took hold of the drink Ethanule
offered, allowing her hand to linger on his a little longer than
necessary. The sight made Sonya’s teeth gnash together.

When Ethanule finally came back to her end
of the bar, Sonya ground out, “This ship has rules, you know.
Didn’t Sebastian tell you? There’s no consorting with anyone on the
ship.”

“
Was I consorting? I recall
it being a little more involved than that. Anyway, I thought that
rule only applied to crew? Jade just informed me that she is merely
a passenger.” He paused thoughtfully. “I do believe she was
flirting with me actually, which I know must be alarming to you. Me
being the lowly creature that I am.” He grinned. “I will go
straight to her room after work and let her know how off her
judgment of character is. I’m sure she’ll be grateful for the
warning. Would you like a drink?”

The harsh sound of her teeth grinding
rumbled in her ears. With effort, Sonya loosened her jaw, only to
allow a string of Demonish curses run past her lips.

“
That sounds sweet,” he
interjected. “But I don’t think you should be coming on to me like
that. You know the rules.”

“
The only reason I’m not
pulling your spleen out through your eyeball is because I promised
Anya I wouldn’t kill you.”

He gingerly placed his hand on his chest. “I
am truly blessed.”

“
But she didn’t say
anything about not hurting you.”

“
Mm, I do like it
rough.”

Barely holding on to the last of her
control, Sonya continued, “Look, you ass, I’m going to give you the
opportunity to prove you’re more than just a waste of air.”

She knew she piqued his interest, even
though the only response she got was a raised eyebrow.

“
I need someone to spar
with, who can offer at least a bit of a challenge.” She let a
little skepticism show in her tone. “I’m willing to believe you’re
not totally without skill.”

“
You want to fight
me?”

“
Spar. But yes, I really,
really do.”

“
What do I get if I
agree?”

Sonya snorted. “A sliver of respect.”

He shrugged. “Not really high on the list of
things I want.”

Sonya guarded her features, making them as
uncaring as she could. She couldn’t let him know how badly she
needed this.

In an offhanded tone, she asked, “What do
you want?”

A sense of foreboding crept up her spine as
he studied her closely, a knowing glint in his eyes. She was afraid
he conceived that he had the upper hand.

“
I want to be free to run
the pub how I want, without you or your minions checking on
me.”

“
My pub has rules. You
would still have to follow them.”

“
How ever
I want,” he repeated.

Sonya glanced around her beloved bar. How
badly could he destroy it, really?

“
One week,” she
offered.

Looking thoughtful, he added, “And I want
you to be nicer to me. That means saying things like please, and
thank you, and not threatening to kill me every other day.”

Sonya opened her mouth to argue, and then
closed it. The Edge wasn’t going to be contained much longer.

“
Fine, for one week also.”
In the deeper crevices of her mind, Sonya wondered if she would be
able to keep that promise.

“
We have a deal then. I’ll
meet you there after I close tonight.”