A Song in the Night (TEMPTED KINGDOM: The Series Book 1)

by Jessa Lucas

  “Is it also fun to fail?”

  I crossed my arms and stomped away from the window.

  “Aw, don’t run away just because I’m right,” Gilles smirked.

  “One of you is a traitor,” I said, folding my arms deeper into themselves. “And I have you pegged for that honor. Since I don’t really feel like getting pushed out of a window today...”

  “I might be an ass, but I am no traitor,” Gilles said angrily.

  I huffed. “I’m just so sure—”

  “We will find the traitor,” Sy said quietly. He had one of those voices that commanded attention, even when he didn’t speak at a loud volume. Which, for some reason, I was finding very irritating right about now. “And for that man, the consequences will be dire. But there is no immediate threat from the Crown. It was nearly a month’s journey to reach Abduult, and if in a fortnight Saylor’s curse is not broken, we face far graver problems.

  “If by some magic the Crown’s fleets arrive sooner, this tower is still impenetrable from the outside. I dare say only the queen herself would be powerful enough to break through her own magic.”

  “And we have not heard from the queen herself in nearly twenty years,” Jabari said softly.

  “She likely became bored with us begging for freedom for the first thirty,” said Dash under his breath.

  I shook my head. I was beginning to get the impression these guys were just as much in the dark as I was. My hands came up in defeat. “I’ve got to take a nap.”

  I was definitely getting a little grumpy, what with the being trapped and the being cursed and the bad news sleepover parties.

  “Gods above, really? How much sleep do you need when you’ve been doing it for half a century?”

  I threw a ugly gesture in the general direction of the speaker (Dash, definitely Dash) and then straightened my spine, standing taller. “I want to see everyone in the dining room in three hours. We’re going to have a formal breakfast. Together.”

  There was a little protesting for a reason I didn’t understand and I turned my gaze to Sy. “Make it happen. Do whatever thing you do that makes people listen.”

  He inclined his head in obedience but someone snorted. “Yes?” I said, scanning the reactions of the other four.

  “Nothing. Just funny how you treat him like our leader,” Gilles said.

  “Why’s that? He is, isn’t he?” I turned to Sy. “Aren’t you?”

  “No,” he said quietly. “We are equals.”

  You could cut the tension with a knife. I wasn’t sure why I delighted in it so much— maybe it was just fun to see men grasp at power they perceived to be slipping out of their hands. Now they knew how I felt… man, I was seriously disappointed I couldn’t at least truthfully threaten Gilles with jumping out of a window whenever he got on my nerves.

  I smiled sweetly. “Oh, okay. My bad. I expect to see all of you at breakfast. Send someone to wake me and,” I held up a hand and writhed it around like I was stirring a pot with it, “you can decide amongst yourselves who.”

  I turned and marched off to my room. Goading them for my own entertainment probably wasn’t the most princess-approved behavior, but maybe this would keep things interesting.

  After all, we were bound to get a little bored stuck in this place.

  “Saylora?”

  I registered the touch of a warm hand to my shoulder and then blinked my eyes open. The ones staring back at me were steely blue, the face chiseled and sharp.

  Dash.

  “I wasn’t expecting you,” I smiled up at him, my voice husky with sleep.

  “Well I am who you got,” he answered dryly.

  I grabbed at his hand and tugged on it, something strange rippling under my skin as I did. “Don’t be so bitter. I wasn’t disappointed.”

  “What are you doing?” His eyes were trained on the place where I gripped him in my effort to coax him onto the bed.

  “Lay down with me. Five minutes.”

  “Is that a command…?” he asked.

  “Oh, one-hundred percent.”

  Dash looked at me warily and then laid down on top of the sheets. I nestled up next to him, my head burrowing between his biceps and his chest.

  God, I loved men’s bodies. Their biological urges? Not so much. Their brains? Okay, from what I could glean between those bouts of biological urges. But their bodies? These I had a true appreciation for. I didn’t think it was the supposed siren in me who longed for the protection, the hard masculinity. The way they made me feel so small when their bodies cocooned me. The siren certainly didn’t need those things, but the plain old woman in me did.

  “This is nice,” I murmured as I hung in the drowsy place between sleep and full consciousness, listening to Dash’s blood pump underneath that leather uniform of his that was like for dragon fighting or whatever.

  It’d occurred to me somewhere between dreamless sleep and waking that the simple way to get what I wanted was to make these men want me. Who said I had to fall in love with one of them? They were the ones with the memories, the pre-existing feelings, and perhaps drawing those out— making each of my watchmen think they were in love with me would be a good way to get answers, and to keep myself safe.

  It couldn’t be that hard without my powers. I was fairly lovable.

  “Okay, five minutes up,” Dash announced a bit breathlessly. I had the distinct impression he’d counted every single one of those seconds to make sure I didn’t keep him a moment longer.

  “Okay,” I sighed, lifting my head and pulling myself from the seductive call of sleep. “Thanks,” I said, touching his arm. “Sometimes... it’s nice to feel the touch of another person. If you know what I mean.”

  Dash’s harsh exterior softened as he said roughly, “I know.”

  I moved from the bed and shrugged off my robe, stepping lightly to the bathing room. “I’m going to shower really fast. Care to join?” I lifted an eyebrow, teasing.

  Dash’s eyes grew wide, and I waved a hand at him. “Just kidding. I don’t move that fast.”

  I winked and sauntered off, amused by myself. I guess I hadn’t realized how handsome Dash was with all the short-temperedness he usually had going on. Then again, they were all handsome, which made my job all that more enjoyable. I slipped into the shower and true to my word, I made it fast.

  I hadn’t lied to Dash. It was nice to feel the touch of another, skin to skin or not. There was something comforting about the weight of an arm bound around your shoulders, even if it was just the facade of someone’s care.

  Despite my sublime ability to seduce men with a single look, I never took proper advantage of a power that allowed me to, well, take advantage of someone else. Between my sordid past and the unwieldy nature of being what I was, it just wasn’t worth it to play in deep waters that were likely to drown me. For all my provocative swagger, I’d managed to have few exploits of any consequence in the life I remembered.

  I frowned as I ran the ragged towel over my tired eyes. How many men had I been with? My body was definitely familiar with the feeling of wild, no-strings-attached sex, but when I started to think about it, I couldn’t for the life of me find the receipt of memory to verify it.

  I pursed my lips as I towel dried my hair, and then dressed quickly, trying not to worry that more of my memories— fake as they might be— seemed to be slipping away.

  When I exited the bathing room, Dash was standing with his back turned. “I’ll wait in the hall for you,” he said.

  Good man.

  Even still, I frowned at his back as he passed through the door, wishing he could see how pouty it made me that he wasn’t in the vicinity when I dropped my towel to dress.

  I found a light green... well, “frock” was the first word that came to mind. It was plain and definitely not princess-like, which I didn’t hate. I cinched in the dress with a simple braided leather belt and called it a day on the dressing. When you live out of a backpack for four years, you learn how to care very litt
le about just how much you’re going to try.

  Dash walked me to the intimate dining room and I looped my arm around his elbow, feeling like it was a beautiful day to act like I was in a Shakespearian soap opera. Dust motes drifted in the beams of sunlight as we stepped down the least efficient spiral staircase ever built, and I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bothered admiring such small things as dust and sunlight.

  The dining room was at the very bottom of the Tower of Abduult, just off of the main entrance. It was a bright and cheery room, and I couldn’t decide if the aesthetic was “Haha, You’re Fucking Stuck Here” or “Over-Compensating With Lightheartedness (Because You’re Fucking Stuck Here).”

  The cool tone of morning light streamed in through the tall set of windows on the right, making the space airy and bright. A pastel carpet stretched along the floor, and a wide mahogany table with a short vase of pretty wildflowers was situated front and center. At the table sat four of my five watchmen.

  I simpered like the princess I apparently was, aiming for a look that communicated how appeased I was to see my minions could follow instructions. “Good morning, watchmen.”

  “Morning,” Jude smiled, and the others nodded in acknowledgement as I settled into my seat, Dash beside me.

  “Did you all find a way to magic in some interior decorators or did you do all this yourself?” I asked.

  It was an oddly ladylike room. No deer heads mounted on walls, no jewel tones or brooding mood lighting.

  “Abduult was prepared this way when we found it, though suffice it to say this might be the first time we’ve chosen to use this room. We usually eat in the alcove off of the kitchens,” Jude admitted.

  “Why ever would you choose not to eat here?” I teased.

  “The colors for one thing,” Jabari said.

  “And the million steps it takes to get down here, for another,” added Gilles.

  “I think it’s lovely. We should eat down here more often, then. Take advantage of this gorgeous morning light.”

  I think only Sy caught the tone of my voice. His lips quivered just enough to betray the smile he held back from his face.

  “Well,” I said, “where’s the food?”

  Just as the word “food” left my mouth, the very thing itself appeared on the table. I gasped, and five sets of eyes looked up at me.

  “Magic,” I whispered, awed.

  “You have seen a person trapped in a mirror,” Gilles said irritably.

  “And you’ve seen a magic forcefield binding us all inside a tower,” Dash continued.

  “And you woke up after being comatose for forty-nine years,” Gilles finished.

  “But I’ve never seen food appear suddenly on a table,” I snapped. I reached my fork across the table for a croissant and stabbed it like a conquering warrior.

  “It’s not like it’s the most impressive thing,” Gilles mumbled under his breath.

  “Speak for yourself,” I retorted, and as if to back me up, my stomach rumbled in agreement. I lifted my fork and then paused, staring down at the pastry. Was I supposed to use the fork and knife to eat this thing? Was that proper princess-like etiquette— and, more importantly, did I honestly give a damn? I looked around, and was crudely reminded that I was surrounded by a bunch of males, males who had not so much as touched their silverware. I abandoned my fork and knife and stuffed half of the croissant in my mouth at once.

  “It might, in fact, be the most amazing magic in the world, seeing food appear on a plate. You don’t know what I’ve experienced, Gilles,” I said after I swallowed.

  “In all fairness, Princess, nor do you. I hardly think the deep sleep counts.”

  I frowned at Dash. The nights of hunger aches didn’t cease to make me grateful just because they happened in my head.

  “The curse-dream, real or not, is all I remember of any life, and it’s all I have of myself,” I answered. “It’s shaped whoever the person sitting at this table is. And that person, me,” I pointed at myself helpfully, in case they hadn’t followed along, “has gone more than a few nights without food. So shoot me if I appreciate the small pleasures of our imprisonment, like delicious croissants appearing out of thin air.”

  “Shoot?”

  Oh yeah, probably they didn’t have guns in the Five Realms now that I thought about it. I guess you don’t need guns when you have black magic. So much for that battle.

  “It occurs to me that we know very little about you,” Jude said as he took a sip of his juice, “the you that you seem to be now, at least— and you know very little about us.”

  He looked so dignified, sitting across from me at the table. His eyes gleamed and his dark brows were so earnestly furrowed, as though he found this of utmost importance.

  “True,” I inclined my head in agreement as I spooned some yogurt into a crystal bowl. “I should get to know each of you.” Size you suckers up.

  “You heard the Princess, let’s go around the table and say who and what we are,” Gilles said, the mockery obvious.

  “What a lovely idea, Gilles,” I agreed. “Would you start us off?”

  He eyed me a moment, and then stood suddenly. I leaned back in my cushioned chair, ready to enjoy his little performance. God, this was going to be like an AA meeting, only worse.

  “As you know, I’m Gilles—”

  “—Hi, Gilles,” I said, my voice the lone interruption. I sighed.

  “—Gilles, short for Gillesyn. From Lithron, capital territory of the Five Realms. At your service.” He gave an over the top bow with a little flourish at the end and began to sit.

  “Uh-uh,” I warned. “What are you? Besides an asshole.”

  There were some sputters from the other watchmen, but I stared Gilles down with a straight face. I knew his game, recognized it in myself… though to be fair, I had (mostly) gotten over it after nineteen.

  Gilles smiled at me lazily. “I may be an asshole, but more than anything I am bored.”

  And I was the new girl who’d just shown up on the playground, the only sparkly, seemingly unbroken toy left. I nodded, understanding the implications of his boredom. “So tell me Gillesyn of Lithron, what are your lands known for?”

  He stared at me like I was an idiot. “…You.”

  “Surely your life had meaning before I came along. Tell me.”

  He shrugged. “Lithron is a territory of artisans, most famous for its glassmiths. We made that coffin you were in.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Did you make it?”

  He smirked. “I put your body in it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Any special skills?”

  “Nope,” Gilles said.

  “Oh, he lies!” Jabari smiled. “He is exceptionally skilled with a bow.”

  “Are you?” I stared up at Gilles, eyebrows raised. “You’ll have to show me your bow and arrow sometime.” He narrowed his eyes as I wiggled my eyebrows at him, and finally sat with a look of defeated frustration on his face.

  “Clockwise, please,” I said, making Dash next.

  “I’m not standing up,” he grumbled. “My name is Dashi—”

  “Hi, Dashi—”

  My watchmen stared at me like they were all missing something and I shook my hands at them until they repeated with me, “Hi Dashi.” Satisfied, I nodded at Dash to continue.

  “Hi,” he acknowledged. “I am from a small village on the Galgon Isles... and,” Dash hesitated, “I was the leader of my clan, I guess you could call it, before I was enlisted by the queen.”

  “Tell her why you must live on an island, Dashi,” Jabari laughed.

  Dash sighed heavily. “You’ll find out at some point anyway. I’m a moonmorpher.”

  There was a silence awarded for my reaction, but obviously I didn’t know what I was supposed to be reacting to. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Oh, of course you wouldn’t know—”

  Gilles started barking at Dash, and then Jabari joined it. Jude was laughing a
nd even Sy had that hint of a smile on his face. Amused, I looked at Dash for explanation, but it was Jabari who answered.

  “He is a mongrel-morph!”

  Dash held up both hands, “You know, I do not appreciate that term.” The jeering died down, and Dash elaborated: “My people live on an island because we have the ability to transform into beasts. Each clan is different, but—”

  “Do you turn into a wolf?” I asked. I noticed my posture had changed; I was now leaning forward, eager.

  “Yes.”

  “Get out,” I said, slamming my hand on the table. Well, that explained the riotous howling. This was just too good. “We had your kind in my world, they turned on a full moon and ate people,” I said.

  “We don’t eat people, and we can control our transformations usually, except during special moon cycles. We relocated to the Isles long ago for that very reason. Isolate ourselves, avoid being hunted.”

  “An island full of werewolves. That sounds like a dream,” I sighed, envisioning a tribe of large hulking men lounging around and going on power trips without their shirts on.

  (Okay, fine, without anything on.)

  “Werewolves? Is that what they were called in the deep sleep?”

  I nodded and Dash snorted. “That is a stupid name. Far worse than mongrel-morph.”

  I shrugged. “They were mythical. Real big in erotic fiction, though— broad shouldered, huge pecs, rife with raw sexual energy. Basically you,” I nodded at him.

  “Guess some fantasies do come true, temptress,” he winked at me and I opened my mouth wide with shock, laughter tumbling out of it. The angry wolfman had made a suggestive joke!

  “We’ll get along after all, Dash. Can you pass me the tea? Who’s next?” I had to admit, I was enjoying myself... and it seemed that my watchmen were, too.

  Jude was to my other side.

  “I am Jude of Dramon Dagma, the Land of Dreams and Nightmares.”

  “Hi Jude,” we all said.

  “Full name Juden. It’s an old family name, but I don’t like sounding like my father. He was… unsavory.”

  “Here here!” Dash raised his glass. “To terrible fathers!”