Page 66 of Seas the Reckoning

The lightning in the councilman’s gaze dies down.

“Good. Then all that is left is to select a groom. Gentlemen. I’ll let you put your best offers on the table.”

I’m not surprised that the choice comes down to the men, and not to me. Lillian sniffs, slamming a teacup down on the table with more force than necessary. Claude puts his hand over hers.

While he’s whispering something to her, Arloc speaks first.

“Carolina, I will not hide my interest in your song, or the benefit it would provide me. I do not lie about who I am or what I do. I do not see the point. I take pride in my trade, and in the wealth it brings in for my coven, which is my top priority. Vampires are often called hedonists, and I won’t deny the bit of truth in that. We go after what we want, and we luxuriate in it. If you were to marry me, I would see to it that you are treated as one of our own. If you need the sun to be happy, we will build a solarium into every property I own. If you need the sea, I will move the coven’s home base to a beach, where you can swim in the waters each day. I will see to it that you have anything your heart desires, if you lend us your talents, and me your hand in marriage.”

As far as stomach-roiling proposals go, it could definitely have been worse.

“Or you could marry me,” Claude interjects. “Become part of one of the oldest, most powerful, and most noteworthy lines of witches and warlocks in the country. With me, you could travel the world. I will put you up in the finest hotels, with the best clothes and attendants. All I ask is that you make yourself available for use of your song, when I should need it. And, of course, available to me for your marital duties. I will need an heir.”

Lillian starts to mutter something, and I think I catch a bit about her not wanting witch blood to mix with naiad blood or something to that effect. For once I’m grateful. He turns toward her with a glare, and I have a few seconds to compose myself.

Her opinion means nothing. She is not about to become my sister.

The only sister I want is in this room, with her tattoos hidden by magic and her mouth shut as I’m auctioned off, but whom I trust with all my heart.

“While it is true these marriages are often seen as little more than business negotiations, know that I will respect your answer. Now, and during our marriage, if you choose me. A yes will be accepted enthusiastically, and a no will be accepted without argument,” Arloc says.

Were any of this real, my choice would be made.

I open my mouth, but Councilman Taylor needs to say his own bit, apparently.

“As I am brokering this agreement, what is on the table for me?”

Arloc lists off several items that I imagine are worth quite a bit of money. Enchanted gems that hold the light, a historical piece of dubious origin whose gems will brighten in the presence of deceitful characters.

Councilman Taylor chuckles.

“I’d lose half my connections, although, after last night, something like that could come in handy. And you, Claude?”

Councilman Taylor’s lip rises into a leer. He clearly favors Arloc, though I can’t imagine why, when he normally has a clear preference for witches and warlocks.

Claude meets the councilman’s gaze.

“Sixty-forty split in your favor, and the feud is done. We act as one moving forward.”

Councilman Taylor’s eyes flash with lightning again.

“Eighty-twenty.”

“You get seventy, I get thirty. From this point forward, we are partners. Also, I want you to find someone suitable for Lillian. Someone with connections, who can manage her, keep her out of my hair, and who will work for us.”

Councilman Taylor gives the briefest glance to the scowling woman, and I manage a scant bit of pity for the witch, being traded as easily as us.

“Deal. Arloc, it was my pleasure to have you here today. Please enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

The vampire gets up and bows, accepting that he is dismissed.

“It’s a shame to lose something so beautiful, but there is always another day.” He walks over, repeating the same hand-kiss to me that Piers did to Starla.

He leans close, his whisper soft against my skin.

“Do come say farewell before the festivities end. I’ll see if I can’t get you that answer before you depart.”

Does he mean the necklace? Could he really figure it out so easily?