2: Dark Bargains

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The black dress was made almost entirely of the glossy leather scales of Hawk's fighting leathers. It hugged her figure, dropping almost to her boots, and Delilah admired it as she pulled on black and gold gauntlets. Her shoulders were capped with protective metal: spikes extending in graceful curving points that screamed these are the shoulders of a ruler. Of a carrier of death. She let her pale orange hair fall loose in gentle waves, and wore no jewellery but a simple golden ring on a chain around her neck – something she had stolen from Dante's private office weeks ago.

Delilah admired the look in her mirror. With her long, almost pointed face and thin, dagger-sharp lips, she knew she was not beautiful. But beauty could only get one so far.

I was born to rule. Not my brother. Me.

Delilah swept from her room after attaching a dark, blood-coloured cape to the back of her shoulders. Kaya and Nell, in blue and gold, merely rolled their eyes before falling into position beside her, both a pace behind. They were her bodyguards, her assassins, and she knew they had knives strapped beneath their dresses.

Silence fell as they entered the great hall fashionably late. Like every other room in Irkalla, it was carved out of the inside of the mountain. The elegant vaulted ceiling and walls shimmered with torches and the occasional vein of crystal. Tension rippled through the crowd of elegantly dressed men and women with slender champagne glasses, their mouths opening at her armour-like attire.

Delilah marched straight through the crowd, ignoring the tables of food and the music. She signalled for Kaya to snatch the chair out from under a weedy-looking politician whom she particularly hated, before throwing it down as they mounted the dais.

Dante did not move or speak as she collapsed into her chair at his side, lounging across it as if it was as impressive as his exquisitely detailed throne.

She was a queen at his side. But not his queen. And everyone in the room had their eyes on her, just as she wanted.

Delilah propped her chin on a hand, letting her eyes roam freely up and down Dante's body. "Something wrong, dearest?"

Dante's eyes were on the ring she had pilfered from him. Had he noticed its disappearance? Had he searched for it? He seemed incapable of speech – did that mean her blood was about to stain the floor, or had she genuinely shocked him? His black suit had subtle tracings of silver and a dark cape cascaded over his throne, a mantle of darkness fitting for the Night Bringer. His hair was pushed loosely back from his forehead, and if he were not so twisted, venomous and evil, Delilah might have thought him attractive.

"Capes. We match." Delilah gestured towards his outfit, wishing he would start talking. She wanted to hear these plans of his.

As Dante had not yet reacted, the crowd had returned to talking – albeit uneasily, darting glances at her every so often. Kaya stood flirting with Hawk near the steps while a group of guards gathered around her. Nell remained in the shadows on the edge of the party, watching expressionlessly.

"You are still not scared of me," Dante said finally.

Delilah gave him a wicked smile. There was a spiky black crown on his head, and it seemed to suck all the light in. It made her feel uneasy. "Of course not. We are business partners, you and I. And I'd like to know what you are going to give me in exchange for the stag." She cursed silently as soon as she had finished speaking. She had just let him dictate the terms of his repayment.

Dante paused, his eyes sweeping up and down her figure in mimicry of the look she had just given him. Delilah fought the urge to bristle, to slap him, to wink – something. Instead she waited, clenching her fingers around the chair arms.

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