Richelle Mead - Storm Born

“‘Might’ being the operative word. So you’re suggesting I just show up at his door and ask for help?”

Volusian inclined his head in the affirmative.

“Have I ever killed or cast out any of his people?”

“Likely.”

“Then I think it’s ‘likely’ he’d kill me the moment I set foot on his land. I can’t imagine any gentry’s keen on letting their biggest assassin in the door.”

I wasn’t touting ego in that statement. Much like Volusian’s death threats, I simply stated a fact. I knew my own worth and reputation as far as the Otherworld was concerned. I mean, it wasn’t like I was reaching genocide levels or anything; I just had more notches on my belt than most.

“Dorian has…an odd sense of humor. It might amuse him to welcome an enemy like you. He would enjoy the sensation it would cause among others.”

“So he uses me for entertainment and then kills me.” I couldn’t believe Volusian was even suggesting a plan like this. He hated me, but he also knew me. If he hadn’t had such a stick up his ass, I would have sworn he was messing with me. Yet, his bindings forced him to sincerely give the best of his counsel if I asked it.

“If he gives you his word of hospitality, he is honor-bound to keep you safe.”

“Since when do gentry keep their word? Or have honor?”

Volusian regarded me carefully. “May I speak bluntly, mistress?”

“As opposed to usual?”

“Your hatred of the gentry blinds you to their true nature. You are also blind to the only thing that might let you escape this mad scheme alive-not that I would mind if you were torn to bloody shreds by Aeson’s people. But whatever else you believe, one of the gentry will stake his life on his word. They keep their oaths better than humans.”

I honestly didn’t believe that. No matter how much I might need help with this, it wasn’t worth it. I would not make a deal with the devil.

“No. I won’t do it.”

Volusian gave a small shrug. “As my mistress wishes. It makes no difference if you speed your own death. I cannot die, after all.”

I stared at him in exasperation. He stared back. Shaking my head, I stood up for another summoning.

“Okay, if that’s all, I’m gonna call the rest of the gang.”

He hesitated. “May I…ask my mistress a question first?”

I turned in surprise. Volusian was the epitome of don’t-speak-until-spoken-to. He only answered what was asked of him. He did not seek out other information. This was new. Wow. What a week of earth-shattering events.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“You do not trust me.”

“That’s not a question, but no, I don’t.”

“Yet…you came to me for advice first. Before you spoke to the others. Why?”

It was a good question. I was about to summon two other minions. I didn’t trust them either, but they had more reason to show loyalty than Volusian. They did not describe my graphic death on a regular basis.

“Because no matter what else you may be, you’re smarter than they are.” I could have elaborated on that, but I didn’t. That was really all there was to it.

He thought about this for a long time. “My mistress is less foolish than she normally appears.” I think it was the closest he could come to thanking me for a compliment-or giving one.

I took out the wand and summoned my other two spirits. I didn’t bother with candles or darkness because these ones were easier to call-especially since I was technically only “requesting” one to come, not ordering him.

The coldness and pressure came again, and then two other forms appeared. Volusian stepped back, arms crossed, not looking impressed. The two newcomers glanced around, taking note that I had gathered all of them. The three of them never interacted much in my viewing, but I always wondered if maybe they hung out for coffee or something in the Otherworld and made fun of me. Kind of like how people make fun of their boss after work during happy hour.

Still affecting unconcerned, lazy control, I unwrapped a Milky Way and sat back on my bed again. Leaning against the wall, I surveyed my team.

Nandi was less powerful than Volusian, so she had a less substantial form in this world. She appeared as a translucent, opalescent figure that seemed vaguely female in shape. Centuries ago, she had been a Zulu woman accused of witchcraft by her people. They had killed her and, like Volusian, cursed her from finding rest. Unlike Volusian’s, I could break this curse and send her on to the land of death. I had encountered her haunting this world, more frightening than harmful, and bound her in service to me in exchange for eventual peace. I had demanded three years of loyalty, one of which she had fulfilled. When the other two were up, I would let her pass on. Whereas Volusian always seemed sullen and sarcastic, Nandi was always sad. She was the poster child for a lost soul. A real downer.

Finn, however, was a different story. Of the three, only he looked happy to be here. He too was not powerful enough to have a solid form. He translated to this plane as small and glittering, barely there, much like how humans perceived Disney-type pixies. I had no claims on Finn. He had started hanging around because he found me entertaining. So he popped up from time to time, followed me, and would generally come when called. I had the power to force his service, but-even as much as I disliked all things from the Otherworld-I was hard-pressed to do so without provocation. I didn’t entirely trust anyone who offered help so freely, but he had never given me reason to doubt him either. Indeed, he’d always been very helpful. I had no idea what his story was, if he too was a cursed spirit. I’d never pressed for the details.

His shining body settled upon my dresser. “Hey, Odile, what’s new? Why do you smell like sex? Did you get some? Why are we all here?” Too much exposure to my world and television had given him a better grasp of our slang than the others.

I ignored the questions. “Hey, Finn, hey, Nandi.” The female spirit merely nodded in acknowledgment of the greeting. “So,” I said in my best boardroom voice, “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you here today.” None of them found that funny, so I just kept going. “Well, brace yourselves: I’m going to be paying you guys a visit. In the flesh. The real deal.”

Nandi showed no reaction whatsoever. Finn leapt up in excitement. “Really? Truly? When? Now?”

Nice to know someone appreciated me. I debriefed them, telling them the story. Volusian leaned against my wall, letting his body language convey to me what an utter waste of his time it was to have to hear this all again.

Finn’s enthusiasm diminished a little. “Oh. Well. That’s ballsy but also kind of…”

“Foolish,” said Nandi in her typically gloomy monotone. “It will end in despair. Dark, bitter despair. You will die, and I will never know peace. My suffering will be without end.”

“Never thought I’d hear you two agree with Volusian.”

Finn shrugged. “It is a good cause, honest. But you can’t really just walk into Aeson’s castle and take the girl. Not that I’m saying you aren’t tough enough or anything. You’ll just need a plan. A really good one. Yeah. What’s your plan?”

“Um, well…to walk into his castle and take the girl.”

Volusian sighed loudly. It was hard to tell with those red slits, but I think he rolled his eyes.

I shot him an angry glance. “Hey, it’s a hell of a lot better than your plan. Would you like to share it with the rest of the class?”

He did.

When he finished, Finn said, “Now, that’s a good plan.”

I threw my hands up. “No, it’s not. It’s a horrible plan. I’m not asking one of the gentry for help.”