Richelle Mead - Storm Born

“No,” I agreed. “But I’d still punish them. Look, maybe I’m overly jaded toward your kind, but then, the only ones I’ve ever met have been the deviants. It’s hard not to judge.”

Dorian stared at me for a long time, and I couldn’t read him. Everyone else looked like they would have killed me on the spot, if not for the hospitality prohibition. I wondered if I’d made Dorian mad enough to regret giving his oath.

His thoughtful face changed to its typical expression, the perpetually amused and lazy one. He rose from his couch, sweeping the cloak behind him. Everyone else hastily followed suit. I took my time getting up.

“I thank you all for a lovely evening, but I must take my leave now.” He spoke loudly, so that his words carried to more than just our table. Conversation in the room dropped. “I daresay my guest is growing restless and eager for some privacy, and I do so hate to disappoint.”

The toadies laughed appreciatively, and I steeled myself not to blush again. Dorian glanced at me as we slowly walked out of the hall.

“If I offered my hand again, I don’t suppose you’d take it?”

“Not a chance. I don’t want to give them any ideas.”

“Oh. Well. I’m afraid it’s too late for that, once they see where we’re going.”

I cut him a warning look. “Where are we going?”

“Why, to the most private of places. My bedroom, of course.”

“What’s the point of a bedroom? I mean, you guys seem to be more into public sex anyway.”

Dorian gestured me around a corner to his suite or wing or whatever. “What we do is natural. We don’t hide it. Besides, it’s actually quite titillating to know others are watching. Haven’t you ever done it?”

“Sorry. I’m not an exhibitionist.”

And yet, as soon as I said the words, I thought about Kiyo. We’d been all over each other at the bar, and then we’d had sex out on the balcony. We hadn’t drawn that much attention, but we could have. Just thinking about it made me shudder-in a good way.

We passed through another set of double doors with two guards standing outside. They had weapons, but I knew their magic posed the true threat.

Once Dorian had closed the doors behind us, I turned and took in the room. “My God. Why would you have sex in the dining room when you could do it in here?”

“I do do it in here. I do it in there. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. I like variety.”

The room spread out for what seemed like miles, the far wall composed almost entirely of windows. It probably had a stellar view in the daytime. Everything from the paint to the enormous satin-covered bed was painted in shades of gold and wine. The torches on the wall added a charming, almost kinky touch. To one side I saw a room that must have served as a bathroom, judging from the giant marble tub. Opposite that, a parlor of sorts extended off on the other side of the room. He beckoned me there to an ornate chair with velvet cushions.

“Wine?” he asked, picking up a crystal decanter from a little table.

“You know the answer to that.”

“I’m sure a small taste won’t hurt.”

“Yeah, and Persephone thought a few pomegranate seeds wouldn’t hurt either. Now she rules the Underworld.”

He poured himself a glass and sat down in a chair facing mine at an angle. “Would it be so bad to rule here?”

“I’m going to ignore that question. Now look, I need to talk to you about a guy named Aeson. He kidnapped a human girl-”

Dorian waved a hand to stop me. “No business yet.”

“But I need to get her back soon-”

“And I will help you, I swear it. Now. One more hour won’t matter. Sit with me, and I’ll tell you a story.”

“A story? You’re serious?”

“My dear Odile, I assure you I am always serious-well, no, actually that’s a lie. Most of the time I’m not. But this time I happen to be. So make yourself comfortable.”

I sighed, slouched back in the chair, and took out the other Milky Way. Seeing his eyes on it, I broke it in half and handed him a piece. Nodding his thanks, he ate it with the wine, something that looked ridiculous and nearly made me smile.

“Now. Tell me something. Have you ever heard the story of Storm King?”

“No. Is or was he a real guy?”

“Very real.”

“So what, is there, like, a Storm Land or something?”

“Not exactly. He did rule a vast area, but the title was more honorary due to his ability to control storms and the weather.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

He quirked me a half-smile. “I’m guessing you don’t realize just how important that is.”

“Not really. I mean, all of you have some kind of magic, right? Why not storms?”

“Ah, but to control storms and the weather is to literally control the elements. Water. Air. The fire of lightning. To see him in his fury was a terrible and amazing thing. He could call down the very heavens to smite his enemies. Few of us have such strength. I’ve never seen his equal, and I’ve lived almost two centuries. Even when crossing into your world, his powers didn’t dim.”

“What do your own powers do?” That was probably something I should have known before being alone with him.

“I can summon and control materials that come from within the earth. Dirt. Rocks. Magma on occasion.”

“The magma sounds cool, but the rest…well, sorry. Not so impressive.”

Those golden eyes sparkled. “I could call down the stones that have built this keep and reduce the entire building to a pile of rubble within minutes.”

I glanced around us. “Yeah. Okay. That’s impressive.”

“Thank you. Anyway. With power like that, he inevitably drew followers. In those days, we were more fractured…split into smaller kingdoms. Our political and geographic divisions are always changing. Storm King sought to remedy this. He conquered and united a number of the smaller rulers, attempting to unite all of the shining ones under his rule. He made astounding progress.”

“Was he a good king?” I was getting sucked in despite my best resistance.

“Depends on how you define ‘good.’ He was a good war leader, certainly. And he was ruthless-which is an ugly but sometimes necessary part of ruling. But, with such power, he had no qualms about taking what he wanted-no matter the inconvenience to others. Those who angered him died without question. If he wanted land, he took it. If he wanted a woman, he took her. Some of those women thought it was an honor, some were taken forcibly.” Dorian paused, giving me a look both studious and sympathetic. “Some were human.”

I stiffened. “Like Aeson.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“‘Unfortunately’? You’re one of them. You must have a thing for humans.”

“Of course I do. We all do-men and women alike. You all smell like musk and sex. It screams fertility. It calls to our most basic, primal instincts to reproduce. For a people whose children are dwindling, that means something. So, yes, I understand men like Storm King and Aeson, but”-he shrugged-“I’ve never been with a woman who didn’t want me, never taken one by force. Not even a human.”

“You seem to be in the minority.”

“No, as I told you earlier, it’s only a small number of us who infringe on humans. You have your own rapists. They too are only a small number.”

I shifted and leaned my head against the chair’s back. “Fair enough. Get on with the story.”

He paused a moment, looking surprised, like he couldn’t believe I’d conceded a point to him. I could hardly believe it myself.

“Very well. Storm King’s ambitions extended beyond conquering this world. He wanted to conquer yours as well.”