Page 54 of Surfaces
Instantly, I watched something flicker in Watkins’s eyes, a hint of that hot fury that had simmered between us for so long. Only, this time, I didn’t interpret that spark as anger—I realized what it really was—attraction.
The shark shifter watched me steadily with that gaze of his, frozen, waiting to find out what I’d do.
I looked up at Valdez, whose hands clutched my hips, annoyed when he was so damned tall and pressed so close to me that all I could see was his chin. “If you aren’t answering my question, then you can’t cut in.”
“I’m not cutting in,” Valdez replied smoothly, pressing against my betta wings. I shifted forward in an effort to get away from him, but the stubborn pirate just sandwiched me firmly between himself and Watkins. “You should have been more specific, but since I’ve only been banned from cutting in, I’m joining the dance.”
The pirate chuckled and slid his hands down to the front of my hips as I found myself trapped in the middle of two intoxicatingly dangerous men.
16
Sahar interruptedmy dance with the two devils. She dragged my unwilling body away from the sinful pleasure of the press of Watkins and Valdez, just as the pirate whispered in my ear, “You like dancing with two men at once, don’t you Avia? Just wait…one day we’ll both dance with you again.”
Watkins let out a low moan as a seductive thrill rushed down my spine because I was very, very certain that Valdez didn’t mean dancing. I had to swallow hard and turn away from Watkins’s glare at Valdez because that glare did unnatural things to me and it would have been disastrous.
Instead of allowing my competitors to corrupt me, Sahar swam me down to my own personal politicking hell. I spent the rest of the night smiling through Gorgono’s verbal jabs and watching while Radford and his fellow shrimp dicks lambasted the other competitors to anyone who’d listen.
I wanted to stop them, but Sahar put her hand onto my arm, holding me in place with that gentle but firm way she had. “No. Only you know they’re serious. To everyone else, they look like foolish boasters.”
Radford tilted back what had to be an eighth cup of fermented bubble, his glazed eyes full of anger. The red-haired hermit crab shifter slurred and swayed as he said, “Bet Keelan’s turtle does better than him tomorrow. Unless the competition is about getting crushed by rocks. He’s pretty good at that.” He was the only one who laughed at his own cruelty.
I couldn’t believe I’d ever considered him as a contender. It appeared that whatever magic spell had made him spout off to me might only have multiplied his mean-spirited tendencies, because who could possibly laugh at Keelan’s injury? Who could possibly hate the sweet, silly siren?
Luckily, Keelan was on the other side of the room, playing a game of cards with a few of the local merchants, so he didn’t hear anything.
Next to Radford, Illia--the bug-eyed siren who’d been so aggressive about leaving—raised his glass to a merchant and said, “Good on you for not entering this—this—” The geas prevented him from finishing his sentence so he simply polished off his drink instead and slammed an empty tankard back onto the table.
People started to drift away from the negative little cluster of men as Radford continued to rail on Keelan’s weakness, having someone else compete on his behalf.
As Radford’s listeners slowly left, I watched him bury himself using his own tongue as his shovel. His reputation would be dead by morning and I doubted the man would find easy employment for himself in the future after revealing this awful side of himself so publicly.
I felt a tiny bit of guilt nudge my chest because Radford was only stuck in this tournament because of me. Then again, no one had forced him to sign up, to begin with—his family had been against it. And he could be counting down til tomorrow was over, til the time his cock would be restored because he competed but lost, fair and square as any other competitor.
My capacity for pity evaporated when I turned and realized I had to face off against the mayor himself.
Seeing me alone but for my guards, Gorgonio sidled up to me, his tail fin sliding along the underside of my feet and sending chills up my spine. I felt certain he did that deliberately, to throw me off balance as he gave me a toothy grin that looked as friendly as a hungry shark’s smile.
“Majesty, I need to inquire, for the safety of my citizens—of course—about what precautions you’re taking for tomorrow’s event. Wouldn’t want a repeat of the last disaster now, would we?” His voice was droll and he gave a dry chuckle before sipping at his own goblet, which I noticed was encrusted with sunshine-colored citrine jewels around the top.
I opened my mouth to respond with some vagary, because who could plan against a random attack? Battles were for battlefields but armies couldn’t defend against such sporadic acts of violence—which made the rebels all the more dangerous. But before I could get a word out, Felipe swam forward from where he was shadowing me.
“Permission to speak, Majesty?” Felipe asked, all formality as he gripped his spear.
“Of course,” I nodded and gestured for him to answer because I had an idea of what he’d say. Sahar and I had discussed security along with local politics during our last hour in the carriage. We’d come up with a few ideas that she’d pitched to my guards while I’d gotten ready for the ball.
Felipe cleared his throat before saying, “The commanders have gotten together and agreed upon a morning sweep of the city since the challenge doesn’t begin until noon. We’ll also be taking some confidential precautions, ones we can’t discuss for security purposes. But, rest assured, we’ll be on top of things.”
I watched Gorgono’s lips protrude as his tongue traced over the front of his teeth and he took in this information. He didn’t look thrilled that we had a decent plan.
“Well, what are you doing about the threats?” the mayor added, clearly trying to throw a wrench in our plans.
“Have you gotten reports of threats throughout the city?” Felipe asked evenly.
“You’d be required to report those.”
“Not official reports,” Gorgono quickly and smoothly covered his bases, like any good politician. “Just rumors.”
Felipe didn’t bat an eye, didn’t change his expression a whit, but his tone made his threat clear. “Well, be certain to pass along any rumors. The royal guard wouldn’t want anything or anyone to slip by us and harm you.”
