The Last Slayer Read online

“These are Mistress’s personal seamstresses, all one hundred of them, at your service.”

  The liliths bowed at Charity’s introduction. One hundred? Jeez. How big was Nahemah’s closet?

  “They have made these dresses especially for you,” Charity said. “Mistress hopes one of them will be acceptable.”

  The liliths held out their dresses and filed past. Every one was breathtaking—vivid colors, silk, satin, laces, velvet and so much more in an infinite variety of styles. If Valerie had been there, I would’ve had to wipe the drool from her chin.

  Valerie…

  “Mistress will allow you to keep what you wear. But you can choose only one.”

  I didn’t really look at most of them. What did I know about the latest fashion trends? So I opted for the most scientific method of picking out an outfit: eeny-meeny-miney-moe.

  “That one.” My finger pointed at a long gown of purple so deep it was almost the color of midnight. Lace and tiny seed-pearl trimming accentuated its fluid lines.

  The seamstress who had made the dress sank onto the floor in a graceful obeisance. “You honor me, milady.”

  “Sure, anytime,” I said. “Can I get dressed now?”

  Their eyes lowered, the other liliths took a step back. Charity waved them away. “Dismissed.”

  They bowed as one and left, their movements elegant and uniform.

  The remaining seamstress rose to her feet. She was a small thing, almost childlike in size and proportion. She was also the first Asian lilith I’d seen. Her dark chocolate eyes were clear and intelligent, and nothing about her hinted any unhealthy lust for eternal youth or other mortally unobtainable things. But looks could be deceiving.

  “May I?” she asked.

  I nodded and tugged the sash around my waist. My silk bathrobe obligingly slid to the floor. The seamstress came closer and helped me into the dress. Although it looked easy to put on, it had a couple of complicated underthings—a corset and a funny wiry-looking deal for the skirt so that it would flare out around the hips, converge around my knees, then spread outward again as the petal-soft fabric ran down toward my feet.

  Everything fit perfectly. I looked at myself in a mirror and had to restrain from whistling. I’d never looked like this, ever, not even when Valerie had forced a torturous makeover session on me. I was actually curvy…with a real butt. And the cleavage! The corset added at least an extra cup size, and I couldn’t help but stare. I surreptitiously reached up to cop a feel. They were soft and springy. I hated to admit it, but I could sort of understand men’s obsession with breasts now. Mine were great!

  The seamstress worked quickly, but I soon started to get bored. Girly primping was Valerie’s thing, not mine. “How long have you been a lilith?” I asked.

  “Five years, milady.” Her nimble fingers started up the small of my back, following a path of tiny pearl buttons.

  “Do you enjoy your work?”

  “It’s rewarding in many ways.”

  “How old are you in mortal years?”

  “Eighteen.”

  Jeez. Was it legal to sign one’s life away as a sex slave at the tender age of thirteen? A tinge of censure added an edge to my tone. “Is eternal youth worth it?”

  Her fingered slowed momentarily. “My village was very poor, and my family the poorest in the village. We were fortunate because I have some small skill with needles.” She finished buttoning the last pearl on my back. “Lady Nahemah has been more than generous to them in recompense for my talents.”

  My cheeks pinkened in the mirror.

  Her eyes lifted briefly and met mine. They held no condemnation or anger. “I hope the dress pleases you.”

  “Yes.” I cleared my throat. “It does.”

  “Is it comfortable?”

  I moved my arms and sat down, got up and walked around. “I think so.”

  Satisfied, she nodded and produced a pair of matching sandals, laying them at my bare feet. “For you, milady. They’re designed specifically for this dress.”

  I slipped them on. Despite the stiletto heels, they were very comfortable and fit perfectly.

  “These are great,” I said, almost in awe. I felt like I could run a marathon in them.

  She gave me a small smile. “Thank you, milady. I hope you enjoy the banquet.” She bowed and left.

  Charity came forward and circled around me. “You look exquisite, milady. Like a Tyrolean queen.”

  Exquisite was the word, even though I had a reflection I didn’t recognize as my own. I wanted to laugh at the irony. The face I’d lived with for twenty-seven years had been a lie. When Valerie finally regained conscious and saw me, would she believe it was me? How would everyone react to my transformation? I was starting to think that this supernatural stuff might be fun.

  And if being a supernatural was okay, then maybe being with a supernatural would also be okay. I mean, now that I looked like a match for Ramiel. And what we had shared in the bathroom… There was a connection between us now. Surely a feeling that deep, that profound, couldn’t be bad.

  “Please come this way,” Charity said. “We need a final touch.”

  There was more? I debated whether or not to tell her to forget it—I really wanted to get the dinner over with—but something in her eyes told me she was going to follow what Nahemah had ordered her to do regardless of my objections. Arguing would only delay things. I went with her to a small vanity with a large mirror and a chair with both arm and footrests. Lovely yellow-gold trim outlined the ivory furniture, and several atomizers and colorful pots and jars lay neatly on the top.

  Four more liliths appeared. Each took a hand or foot and started trimming and buffing my nails. Oh god. This was surreal. When you’re a hunter, you don’t do girly things as a rule. Gotta show the boys you’re as tough as they are. And I’d never wasted money on things like manicures or pedicures. It seemed silly—long nails just break when you’re swinging a sword.

  While my cuticles were being ruthlessly cut and trimmed, Charity began applying makeup to my face. She added a hint of rose to my cheeks and cherry to my lips and drew a thin line around my eyes with dark kohl.

  “You have such lovely blue eyes, like a wintry ocean. I wonder who gave them to you.” She ran a red wooden brush through my hair—amazingly, there were no tangles—until it shone like silk. “And such beautiful hair. So thick and lustrous.”

  I began to deny it out of habit, but stopped myself. I needed to adopt a new protocol for social behavior. WWVD: What Would Valerie Do?

  “Thank you,” I said. “Yours is lovely as well.” It was, after all.

  Charity parted my hair six ways and braided each section. Afterward, she rolled everything up into a complicated but elegant do. It reminded me of a medieval princess’s I’d seen in a special exhibition at the National Gallery a couple of years back. She had been riding a white horse, and a translucent veil had covered her head.

  Charity finally stood back. “Is this acceptable?”

  I stared at myself. The woman in the mirror blinked when I blinked. Her cherry lips parted slightly in awe. She glowed—her finger and toenails a shimmering blue the exact color of her eyes, the makeup enhancing her already demigoddess-perfect face. Who was this stunning stranger? Maybe it was a dream, and any second I would wake up and realize I was still my usual drab self, all frizzy brown hair and uneven complexion.

  “It’s…amazing.”

  Charity smiled. “We’re glad to have pleased you, milady.” She spritzed lavender scent on me. “Now, it’s time to join everyone in the lyceum.”

  “Just let me get the old dress to give back to Nahemah.” Before Charity could protest, I went to the bathing room and grabbed Leh’s necklace.

  “Milady, if you please,” she called from the other room, obviously scandalized at the idea of her mistress’s honored guest doing a common chore. “We are happy to take care of everything.”

  “All right. If you insist.” I shoved the small vials and chain into my cleava
ge, which was now deep enough to hide everything snugly. I came back out to where the liliths were waiting. “I’m ready.”

  Thirteen

  I followed Charity to the main hall. Without the full moon to dull their brilliance, sparkling stars dominated the dark velvet sky. Now that the moon was gone, it was “daytime” in the Lunar Garden. And Nahemah rested during the day, except on special occasions like today when she had guests to entertain.

  The prospect of facing Nahemah knotted my stomach. I took a deep breath and focused on the positive. Like how after the banquet, I would meet Enmesaria. I hoped she wasn’t as weird as Nahemah. I’d had well over my weekly quota of strange supernaturals.

  As we entered, several samaels in silver and white uniforms sang in a tenor chorus. Liliths in matching dresses played harps. The melody soothed my nerves. Most of the men and women looked very young. Were their backgrounds like the seamstress who’d made my dress? Families so poor they had to sell their talented sons and daughters to get by?

  Or had they thrown away everything for eternal youth and beauty?

  No natural wind visited the Lunar Garden, but another group of samaels and liliths created a breeze with large, emerald-encrusted fans. Their movements were precise and in unison. With each stroke, the aroma of exotic spices and rich sauces, fresh fish and meat, vegetables and fruits drifted toward me. My mouth watered. I hadn’t had anything substantial since I’d left Besade.

  A small fairy dragon bowed at my entrance. His gossamer wings shimmered in a blur of gold and violet.

  “Welcome to the lyceum, Lady Ashera. I am Weston, caretaker of the Lunar Garden.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand.

  He swooped in, dipped and kissed it. There was no trembling with this one.

  Weston was of the same dimensions as Toshi, but his scales shone a glossy blue-black, and his eyes gleamed with confidence. He was probably very successful with the lady lizards.

  “I can hardly wait for dinner,” I said. “The food smells delicious.”

  He bowed. “You overpraise,” he said modestly, but his wings beat a little faster.

  Hmm. Maybe all fairy dragons prided themselves on their domestic abilities. Too bad they didn’t work for mortals. I knew several who could have used a helping claw or two.

  “Lord Ramiel awaits the splendor of your presence,” Weston said.

  The splendor of my presence? That was laying it on a little thick. “How about Lady Nahemah?”

  There was a flash of small Tyrannosaur teeth. Was he trying to intimidate me? If so, he’d have to do better than that. As if he’d read my mind, he stretched his mouth further, displaying even more jagged pearly whites. In a flash of horror and amusement, I realized that he was trying for an ingratiating smile.

  “Mistress will arrive soon. I apologize for the delay.” He hovered at shoulder level and escorted me to the seats reserved for the guests of honor. Ramiel waited on one, reclining on his side. Unlike the high-backed chairs in Besade, these seats were azure méridiennes, trimmed in silver. A matched lilith and samael pair sat on the floor by each one, ready to serve.

  I tried to catch Ramiel’s eye, to get some clue as to what he was thinking. Our time together must have touched him on some level. But he was eating grapes with mechanical efficiency and didn’t bother to look up.

  Men.

  In the center of the room stood a low table with a white marble top. The Lunar Garden’s crest—a six-headed silver dragon with spread wings sitting atop a full moon—floated in the air over each seat. Gleaming platters with gold trim held exotic food, most of which I’d never seen before, much less tasted. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to try some of the dishes. I’m generally an extra-spicy General Tso’s chicken with Coke kind of girl.

  While we waited for Nahemah, Weston used the opportunity to enlighten me—in excruciating detail—on the culinary delights of the Lunar Garden. Ramiel spent the time brooding and refusing to meet my eye, so there was no rescue from that quarter. If he had been a mortal man, I would’ve imagined he was upset at having to wait for a tardy woman. But what’s time to an immortal? He was probably pissed off about having to eat with Nahemah, whom he clearly didn’t like. Or maybe he felt confused about what had happened between us and didn’t know what to talk about. Still, he could’ve at least complimented me on my appearance. I knew I looked good.

  I resisted an urge to sigh and gave my attention to Weston. It was better than watching Ramiel sulk.

  Weston explained that only the freshest ingredients, ones that passed his own personal and exacting inspection, could be used for cooking in the Lunar Garden. Furthermore, because of the special characteristics of Nahemah’s dragonhold—no sunlight, ever—the local foliage was exceptionally tender and flavorful and not to be found anywhere else in the world. Even a powerful dragonlord such as Nathanael would have to beg if he wanted to taste it. Weston giggled as he said this—an oddly feminine sound. So he was delusional in addition to being a sycophant. I couldn’t imagine Nathanael begging some servile fairy dragon for anything. More like demand, then decapitate if denied.

  Because I was such an important guest, Weston had prepared everything himself—his assistants were apparently competent, but of course nowhere near as good as he was—and so the entrées were: wild white squash with tomato and basil sauce, fresh plum and mint cocktail, roasted pheasant with night spices and pear and lemon cream sauce, herb-infused boar’s belly with wild ginseng and sweet dates, grilled giant lobsters with white articho—

  Nahemah’s entrance interrupted Weston’s paean to the menu, thank god. Every moment I spent listening to him was another moment Valerie wasn’t getting the antidote. And polite or not, I didn’t think I could stand it much longer.

  Nahemah didn’t walk in from the main doorway like I had, but appeared between the fluted columns like an apparition. This time, her mane was magenta and coiled on top of her head. Her matching Grecian dress should’ve been too much, but she managed to pull it off and ended up looking dashing. Her skin glowed golden, as if she’d been sun-kissed. Maybe there was a tanning salon somewhere in the Lunar Garden.

  Naturally, Ramiel noticed her. He and I made to rise, but Nahemah waved us down.

  “Please.” She smiled apologetically. “Terribly sorry I’m late.”

  “That’s all right.” I glanced around. I remembered Besade, where the dragon elite had joined the banquet.

  “It’s just the three of us. I don’t dine with my guards.”

  This was Ramiel’s cue to say something politic, but he didn’t.

  I sighed.

  Our liliths and samaels put small portions of the first course onto abalone shells and brought them to us. I tasted a few things, trusting Weston’s culinary skills. What choice did I have? To do otherwise would be an insult to both the hostess and the fairy dragon. Plus, she had sworn not to poison anything.

  A ceviche of crisp pickled onions, tomatoes and diced baby octopus legs in a spicy lemon juice looked interesting, but it wasn’t something I’d normally seek out. Still, I took a bite. The tartness of the tomato and lemon balanced the sweetness of the onion. The octopus was just chewy enough and savory.

  Weston obviously knew what he was about. I looked up to find the fairy dragon hovering in front of me, his foreclaws knitted together expectantly. I nodded and smiled, and he dipped briefly in satisfied acknowledgment.

  “So how’s Leh?” Nahemah’s voice was melodious and soft over the chorus in the background.

  “She’s fine.” Or had been, until I took her heartstone. I remembered her cool skin. How weak she’d looked.

  “Mmmm…I can’t believe she still sees Nathanael, especially on a night like this. What could she have been thinking?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Obviously Nahemah had put two and two together. I glanced at Ramiel, but he was too busy scarfing down his food to notice. He hadn’t had the refreshment earlier. He must have been famished, but I would have liked him to help me
with Nahemah, especially after making such a big deal about being my ally.

  I guess our alliance extended to sex and the whole vow thing, but not social situations.

  “The robe of translucence is no longer wearable. Ah well, another rag for the dish girls.” Her tone was more teasing than chiding. She sipped her wine and watched me over the rim. “Difficult to believe Nathanael saw through my illusion.”

  “There was a minor accident.” Let her speculate about how it had happened. Before she could ask me any more questions, I turned to Ramiel. “Did you two get along while I was in the Mystic Forest?”

  He didn’t even bother to look at me. Shrugging, he shoved more food down his throat while I struggled to maintain the pleasant smile on my face. What the hell was wrong with him? Never been fed before? He was eating so fast I thought he might choke. Actually, I kind of wished he would. I’d have so loved to pound on his back.

  “Did you win?” Nahemah said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You mentioned that Nathanael caught you out. Surely he didn’t just say hello.” Nahemah popped a white grape into her mouth and frowned prettily. “I suppose he tried to kill you, and Leh was fetchingly distressed by the entire situation. A skirmish…perhaps a duel was fought. No?”

  “Yes.” I shoved a forkful of octopus into mouth.

  I would have been killed if it hadn’t been for Leh. Yet to reveal every detail of the fight would tell Nahemah how much influence Leh had over Nathanael. I had no problem with Nahemah using the information against Nathanael, but there was no guarantee she wouldn’t use it to hurt Leh.

  Better safe than sorry.

  Nahemah’s eyebrows were high on her forehead. “Remarkable. Not many face Nathanael and escape unscathed.” Her gaze flickered toward Ramiel for just an instant. “But perhaps you injured him and forced him to back off…or killed him.”

  “It ended in a draw.”

  Close enough to the truth. To be honest, even if I had the two remaining heartstones, I didn’t know if I could win against him. Not at my current skill level. He was obviously the leader of the Madainsair, and from all accounts a complete badass.