Few had any true concept of just what a siren could do. The moment her parents had discovered her affliction, they’d tried to keep her as hidden and sheltered as possible. As a child, Shayera hadn’t been able to control her… needs. That failure had nearly cost her everything. But with the help of the witch and her own ability to mute her resonance, she’d learned to survive it.
“Well, be that as it may, I’d really rather do this myself. And what happened to your sibilance anyway?” she asked, scrunching her nose, only just realizing the girl no longer hissed her s’s.
Dalia reached out her hand as if wanting to pat her on the back before curling her fingers in and nodding grimly. “Aye, then. Just call me if you need me. I’m here to see to whatever needs you may have. And I only hiss when in shade form.”
“Oh, well then.” She smiled, twirled on her heel, and then paused. “Thank you, Dalia. It’s good to have a friend.”
Nodding, with the tiniest of smiles, Dalia turned to leave, but when she grabbed the doorknob she hesitated for just a moment.
“Yes?” Shayera asked, sensing she wished to say something.
Dalia turned, and jeweled eyes gleamed. Her face was as serious as Shayera had seen yet. “A word of caution, miss—the master is handsome and excessively charming…”
Her face screwed up and Shayera knew she did not wish to say the rest, but now she was intensely curious to find out what she was hiding.
“Yes?” She leaned forward on tiptoes.
“Protect your heart from him. And because I like you, I’ll give you advice I’ve given no other—do all in your power to lose.” Then, straightening her shoulders, Dalia inhaled. “G’night, miss.”
And with those strange, final words, Dalia disappeared, leaving Shayera to wonder just what it all might mean.
Chapter Six
Rumpel sat on his chaise, staring at the snapping, crackling red flame in his hearth, his face pensive. He was obviously lost in thought.
Dalia’s sulfur manifested before her soft voice whispered, “She has been seen to.”
His eyes narrowed as her gaze obviously avoided his. “What did you say to her, girl?”
Pulling her lips together, she shook her head. “Nothing, master. Only what ye told me to say.”
He didn’t believe her. Something about Shayera Caron disturbed him, the way she drew people to her, even himself. The flash of her skin had done strange things to his insides, made his palms sweat and his heart thunder. She was a mystery and he’d always loved riddles, especially ones as lovely as she.
“You mind your tongue, girl. Your only job is to keep her content during her stay.”
She swallowed and he thought she’d curtsy and disappear as was her usual manner, but instead she showed a bit of bravery. “Master, I like this one.”
“I like her too.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I do not think you should do these things to her. She’s been through enough.”
He hissed and Dalia trembled. “And what would you know of her, eh? She’s a stranger to this castle. Do not interfere in my business, chit! You are dismissed.”
Tracing a finger along his lip, he stared back at the flame, sensing she still wished to speak, but he knew Dalia would leave well enough alone. He was master and she would obey him.
“As you wish, master,” she murmured softly and then faded from sight.
Scoffing, he wrinkled his nose in disgust at her temerity, then reached toward the small bar beside him and poured a dram of whiskey into a tumbler. Tomorrow the games would begin in earnest, and just as Dalia said, he felt deep in his bones that perhaps he’d finally found the one. As much as he enjoyed the sight of the redheaded beauty, nothing would stop him from getting what he wanted.
With a smile, he took a sip of his aromatic drink, and for the first time in centuries felt a peace in his soul that the end was finally near.
Rumpel couldn’t be accused of being anything less than a gracious host. Shayera shot up out of bed when the first faint rays of sunlight crept through her bay windows. Stretching her arms high above her head, she yawned, realizing she’d slept more peacefully than she had in a good long while.
The bath last night had been divine. When Dalia had referred to it as a bathroom, she hadn’t expected much more than a tub and showerhead. No, the tub was actually more of a Roman-style bath. The water had already been run and floating atop it had been hundreds of lotus flowers. It’d been a moment of wow for sure.
Staring out the large, lattice-framed window, she wondered what in the world was in store for her. To say she had to run a gauntlet could mean so many different things, it might be physical, mental, both.
She couldn’t believe she’d actually managed to fall asleep, but somehow she had, and now she was so full of energy she hopped out of the bed, raced to her closet, and swung it open, fully expecting it to be empty. Either Dalia had been hiding in plain sight or invisible when she’d bathed, because the moment she’d disrobed her sackcloth dress had vanished, never to be seen again she was quite sure.