Page 34 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
“You have several things I want, right now.”
“The jewels I wear are borrowed,” she said regretfully.
He stopped dancing and took her chin between his knuckle and thumb. Unsmiling, he stared hard into her eyes. “Are you really that naïve?”
“What do you mean?” Mai’s heart kicked into a new pace.
Feral kept looking at her,intoher, as if he was searching for something. When he didn’t find it, his scarred features pulled into a frown. “Interesting.”
Did he perhaps want some of her work? Her sketches, her designs? That was what they’d been speaking of.
Or—
The realization struck her in the gut, and she gulped, her face heating.
Did he want something physical from her? She felt suddenly stupid for not thinking of it before.
Men in this city seemed far more apt to demand and to take than the men she’d known on Kiken Island. The islanders had been her friends, neighbors, distant relatives. Some of them could be a little lewd or grumpy when drunk, but she’d never had cause to fear any of them.
She had been so deep in talk of ship-building and weapon design with Feral that she’d forgotten who she really was—a minnow in a sea teeming with sharks. In her imagination, the ballroom transformed into a deep, deep tank, rippling with music, thrumming with a depthless beat, laced with poisonous thoughts and intentions—and the smiles of the glamorous guests were serrated, threatening. Their heavy colognes were toxic fumes spiraling through the limpid gaslight, sifting into Mai’s nostrils until she feared she might choke.
“I wonder if you might agree to an exchange,” said Feral, and his voice was deeper than it had been all night.
“Exchange?” Mai’s lungs tightened.
“Knowledge for knowledge. A few sketches of your weapons, in exchange for what I know of the Race route.”
Mai released a gratified breath. “They’re only concepts. I’ve never tested them, or even built them.”
“And yet, I would be interested. The way you speak of these contraptions—I can almost see them in my mind. It’s clear you’ve fleshed out the ideas thoroughly. In return for a few sketches, I would give you this.” He paused, unpinning a tiny golden shark pin from the edge of his corset. Mai stood still, anchored to the glossy expanse of the ballroom floor, while the dancers floated and swerved around the two of them.
Feral moved closer. His fingertips brushed the upper swell of her breast as he attached the pin to her gown, right at the neckline. “This will grant you access to any part of the university you care to see or use. Ask for an assistant, for supplies, for anything, and you will receive it. I doubt my little brother’s name will provide you with such wide-ranging benefits. Power and wealth, Mai. Those are the keys to knowledge, as well as every other door worth walking through.”
His fingers grazed her breast again as he pulled his hand away. It was a deliberate touch, a purposeful caress. Mai’s blood rushed to her head; she felt tight and hot, thrumming with unfamiliar sensations. Feral’s mouth wrenched aside, a triumphant smirk, as if he’d finally accomplished the thing he’d been working toward all night.
“The pin is yours. A down payment,” he said. “Once you deliver the sketches to me, I’ll tell you what I know of the route.”
The dance music died suddenly, and a fanfare sounded from a stage at the far end of the ballroom.
“Ah, the parade of the champions!” Feral said. “Come, and we’ll get a closer look.”
“I should really be with Kestra and Flay,” Mai protested, but the voices of the crowd had swelled to an eager cacophony, and Feral did not appear to hear her. He steered her toward the stage, gripping her elbow firmly, and everyone in their path stepped hastily aside to make way.
Mai could see Flay and Kestra and Jazadri, already near the stage, on the opposite side of the room. Feral was pressing her farther from them—unintentionally, she was sure. No use protesting—she could join up with the others later.
Half a dozen slaves brought two large chairs and set them before the stage. The Magnate sat down heavily in one, and a woman in elaborate makeup took the seat beside him. Flay’s mother, Mai guessed. Despite her rich garb, she looked unhealthy and unpleasant.
Feral kept towing Mai along until they were nearly at the edge of the stage. “A perfect spot,” he said, but he did not let go of her elbow. She was tempted to shake him off, but what if he became angry and took away the pin? She wanted the pin desperately.
What harm could there be in giving Feral a few old weapon sketches? She’d left most of them at home on Kiken Island, so she would have to re-draw them—but they were all in her head, so that wouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. In exchange she would receive valuable information to help Flay win the race, and she’d gain full access to the university’s resources.
Still, she had the nagging sense that Flay and Kestra wouldn’t approve.
Perhaps she didn’t need to tell them about the bargain with Feral. But she wanted to tell someone, to ask advice. Maybe she could ask Rake. He would give her his opinion honestly, simply, without overreacting or judging her for considering the exchange.
Rake. She was about to see Rake again. He was going to walk across the platform in a few moments.
The moths that had settled in her belly took flight again.
