39: Terms and Conditions

ZOE POV

“Again, and I cannot stress this enough, I have no power to renegotiate the terms of your punishment from the Faerie Queen,” I tell Tempest and Ariadne through gritted teeth, “especially since your current contract of punishment forbids you from entering the fae realm while it is in effect. I can’t get there on my own, even if I were inclined to—”

“Shhhhh!” Ariadne hisses. She closes her eyes and seems to be listening to something. Xander, still beside me and getting increasingly bored and antsy, cocks his gun again.

“What’s—” he begins.

“Anselm’s dead,” Ariadne announces as her strange periwinkle eyes snap open. “His aura, his spirit…they’re not here anymore.”

Anselm’s dead?! The idea seems implausible at best, but Ariadne’s extremely perceptive, and despite being fae, she usually goes out of her way to avoid speaking falsehoods. Way to go, Sasha. You’ve finally done it, you absolute madwoman, I congratulate my teammate silently.

“Then we need to report to Sasha. Immediately,” Tempest decides. “Let us out of these infernal—”

“I won’t, not until we have a deal,” I interrupt. My patience with him is wearing dangerously thin.

“Fuck you and your stupid negotiations.”

Xander fires another shot at Tempest, so close the bullet grazes his teal hair.

“That is not how you should talk to someone who holds your life in their hands,” he warns.

“Enough,” I say to Xander, but without force or malice. I’m half tempted to just let him kill them, or at least Tempest.

“If you won’t let us out, at least take us to Sasha, so that she can be part of the negotiations,” Ariadne petitions winningly. She’s always been the more amiable and reasonable of the two of them.

“She might very well be unable to talk to you at the moment,” I point out. There’s no way she made it out of a fight with Anselm unscathed. Even Sasha’s not that good, and there’s blood all over this warehouse, at least the parts I’ve seen.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it?” Ariadne is trying very hard to be as charming as possible.

“We won’t know unless we find her,” Tempest adds irritably.

“Fine, but you’re staying in those cocoons until we’ve reached an agreement,” I relent, then turn to Xander. Even in his human form, his senses are better than mine, from what I know about lycans. “Lead the way.”

“Sure thing,” Xander agrees. He starts picking his way through the warehouse debris and I follow, pulling Ariadne’s and Tempest’s improvised containment cells along with me. Ariadne seems more or less resigned to her fate, but Tempest is muttering curses under his breath. He’s grating on my last nerve.

As we walk, I notice more and more blood spattered across the floor and the warehouse paraphernalia. Damn, this duel must’ve been a hell of a fight. But how much of this blood can possibly be Anselm’s?

“She’s a fighter. Rest your fears,” Ariadne assures me, but it does little to assuage the sinking feeling in my gut. “Tempest will never say so, and he’ll probably be peeved at you for a while, but I know you’ve only been rude to us because you’re so concerned about her.”

I offer her a slight smile in reply. It’s the best I can do. I don’t know how to tell her that I’ve never really trusted either her or Tempest. It’s a wonder to me that Sasha and Rika can even be civil to them, after the fae who was on their team before me betrayed them.

“’Bout time you showed up,” Callum remarks as Xander rounds a pile of boxes. I’m a moment behind with my captives in tow.

“Watch your step,” Xander warns me, and I look down to see Anselm’s disemboweled corpse. My stomach heaves violently, and I choke down bile. Then my eyes fall on Sasha’s crumpled form, and my stomach succeeds in emptying itself all over the dead lion in front of me. No. She has to live. She has to. Xander grabs my elbow with his free hand, offering support as I try to pull myself together. I didn’t expect that for him. Guess there’s more to him than being violent and obnoxious.

“What’s the matter with you?” Tempest mocks me from within his aluminum casing. “You’ve seen worse than this on other jobs, haven’t you?”

“Not people I know,” I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Rika, how is she?”

“Stable, I’m pretty sure,” she answers without looking up from working on Sasha’s wounds, which appear to be many. Callum is acting as her assistant, and Drake lies next to Sasha, looking about as miserably concerned as I feel.

“Why’d you bring them fae with you?” Callum demands, eyes boring holes into me.

“They say they report to Sasha now that the lion is dead,” Xander answers for me. “They’re lookin’ to negotiate a deal where we don’t leave them to rot here in their cute little cocoons.”

“Sasha ain’t available to negotiate with no one, 'n’ we got quite a line for who gets to talk to her first once she comes to.”

“I can help you heal her,” Ariadne offers, “if you let me out of this—”

“Much appreciated, but no, thank you,” Rika interjects, her deep dark eyes fixing on Ariadne’s earnest face. “You answer to Sasha now?”

“Per the terms of the duel, since Anselm’s dead, Sasha is now the Commander of all WASP Special Ops,” Tempest elucidates.

This news hangs heavy in the air. Callum looks stunned, Drake is confused, and Rika appears to already be calculating possible options for how to handle this situation. That’s my woman.

“Allow me to propose a deal, then,” Rika says after a few moments of silent consideration. “You promise, on pain of death, to say nothing to anyone at HQ about our whereabouts or exactly what has transpired there, beyond that Anselm and Sasha have dueled for his position and Sasha is the victor. Then and only then Zoe will release you, provided you also swear that you will return directly to HQ upon your release and make ready for Sasha’s return.”

“And what’s in it for us if we accept your terms?” Tempest demands. He’s got this cocky asshole air about him—not unlike Xander, actually—that’s really unwise for someone trapped in a metal cocoon.

“We don’t fucking kill you,” Xander threatens. “I’m about tired of your shit, insufferable scum.”

“Easy,” I advise Xander.

“What do you mean by ‘make ready for Sasha’s return,’ exactly?” Ariadne inquires. She, at least, seems to be considering Rika’s deal, which is far more sensible and straightforward than anything I came up with earlier. I love her so much.

“Send Anselm’s personal effects to his next of kin. Stall any other WASP brass who come looking for the Commander of WASP Special Ops. Redecorate what was once Anselm’s office to be more in line with Sasha’s taste. If anything that could potentially compromise us happens, no matter how seemingly insignificant it may be, notify us immediately and comply with our instructions to the letter,” Rika answers tersely. She’s once again working on Sasha’s wounds.

“Proposed caveat: as soon as Sasha is able, our communications are exclusively with her, rather than using you as go-betweens or proxies.”

“And all of your decor decisions have to be approved by me until Sasha is able to do it herself,” I add. I can already see Tempest, with his cruel humor, making the office look like a torture dungeon or wallpapering it with giant, high-res images of Sasha’s kills.

“I am willing to accept both amendments,” Rika says. “Ariadne? Tempest?”

The two fae exchange glances.

“You won’t get a better deal from me,” Callum advises them. “And I’m the most reasonable o’ the three of us.” He gestures to Xander and Drake as he speaks, rather redundantly, as the two fae aren’t such fools as to need this clarification.

“Try any funny business and I’ll blow your fucking heads off,” Xander adds with an illustrative gun movement.

“All right, all right, cool it, tough guy,” Ariadne grumbles. “I accept your terms, Rika, caveats and all.”

“As do I,” Tempest huffs.

“Then, just to make sure this is airtight,” Rika sighs, “do you, Tempest and Ariadne, solemnly swear, on pain of death, that, upon release from your current bindings, you will immediately return to WASP HQ to make ready for Sasha’s return, as specified in the previously explicated caveats, and that you will tell no being in any realm the specifics of what has transpired here and any information regarding our whereabouts until such time as Sasha, Zoe, and I return to WASP HQ ourselves and amend your orders?”

“I do so solemnly swear,” Ariadne and Tempest respond severally. Rika nods to me, and I release the aluminum casings from the two fae. To my surprise, they immediately perform a brief ritual together and vanish from our sight.

“Should’ve put tracking devices on them,” Rika mutters. “Oh well. Too late now. And we have other things to worry about.”

“Rika…tell me honestly…is she—” I start.

“We need to get her into our vehicle, where the rest of my supplies are. If I can get some adrenaline, fluids, and nutrients into her, we can probably wake her up long enough to get her to shift back, which should help with a lot of the healing. The sooner we can start that, the better the odds of a full recovery.”

“Drake can carry her, if we secure her to his back,” Callum suggests. “I think we’ve done about as much as we can for her here, anyhow. An’ he don’t need remindin’ t’carry her gently.”

“Probably our best option. But everyone helps, to make this work as smoothly as possible. Stow your weapons and do exactly as I say. Once we’re in the SUV, we can decide where to go from here.”