The Sea Witch (Wicked Villains 5)

It still hasn’t quite sunk in as I open the door to find Hercules standing there. He gives me a soft smile. “You managed to get some sleep last night. Good.”

“Yes.” I’m relieved it’s him who seems to be in charge of handling this whole thing, though a small part of me wishes Ursa hadn’t abandoned me. It doesn’t seem like she had much choice, but as disconcerting as I find her presence, it’s reassuring all the same. She has a vested interest in seeing me follow through on this, so she’ll protect me in the meantime. Or she would if she were here.

It’s getting all tangled up in my head.

I can’t trust her. I know I can’t trust her. But that doesn’t stop the flicker of disappointment I can’t quite extinguish.

I step back and let Hercules into the room. It’s so strange. This isn’t my room. Not really. I suspect he has a key to it just like he seems to have a key to every other door in this place. For all that I slept here last night, I’m not the host; he is.

He stops in the middle of the room and turns to me. “I know it might be a little weird, but there’s a protocol for this. Think of it like a very niche spa package.”

I try for a smile but can’t quite manage it. “Have to get the product looking as expensive as possible.”

“Something like that.” He sighs. “I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind?”

“No.” That, at least, I’m sure of. I tilt my head to the side. “Why are you so determined to talk me out of this? I’m sure you’re being paid for your time.”

Hercules waves that away. “I get a percentage of the final total, but I don’t care about the money.”

It strikes me that money is something I’m going to have to care about, and soon. I’ve never had a job. One of Triton’s daughters working? Unthinkable. My trust fund is enough money to keep me for the rest of my life if I’m not foolish, but I won’t have access to it for another seven years.

Gods, what am I going to do?

“Zuri?” Hercules takes a step forward, his hands outstretched like he’s going to catch me. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing.” I’ll figure it out one way or another. Better yet, once Alaric is free, we’ll figure it out together. Right now, I just need to focus on getting through the next few days, the auction, and the resulting sex. That’s it. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“I figured you’d say that.” He huffs out a breath. “In that case, let’s get started.”

I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s almost exactly as Hercules said; a spa day. I’m waxed and moisturized. And then it’s on to manicures, pedicures, and my hair. I almost ask for brightly colored hair, Ursa’s red lingering in my mind, but chicken out at last moment. Instead, they refresh my deeper auburn and give me a trim. My clothes disappear during my skin treatments, and I’m given a robe that feels so decadent, it has to be astronomically expensive.

Hercules leads me several floors up. I don’t realize where we’re headed until he opens a door and I see the lounge I only got a glimpse of last night. There are no windows in this room, so it might be any hour of the day or night, but the lights are a little brighter than they were when Ursa hustled me through this room. The only testament to the Underworld being closed, aside from the obvious lack of people.

“I’m going to walk you through how it’ll go tonight. All business of this sort is set up in the public playroom because it’s the only space big enough to pull it off.” He opens the door on the other side of the lounge and motions for me to precede him.

The room is as large as our ballroom back home. There are a number of couches and chairs arranged for people to congregate in small groups, with plenty of room around them for walking with ease. There are also…things. I move toward one, Hercules silently shadowing my steps.

He speaks as I stop before it. “That’s a St. Andrew’s Cross.”

“I’m familiar with it.” Even if I hadn’t done some research once I realized the role Alaric plays in the Underworld, I’d be able to understand its purpose from the straps at the top and bottom of each part of the skinny X shape. Someone is strapped to it. I turn and look out at the room.

Someone is strapped to it in front of an audience.

A fissure of heat goes through me at the realization. I move from piece to piece, and let Hercules explain them despite my research. There’s no telling what new information I could pick up, but everything he says lines up with what I expect. I think he’s trying to scare me into changing my mind. It’s only partially working. I am scared. But the longer the knowledge of what comes next has to settle, the more a deep, dark part of me is almost looking forward to it.