For a moment there was dead silence in the banquet hall. Then all the Mistresses began talking at once. Many glances were thrown in Lady Wraith’neck’s direction as well as the hapless Lady Nick’wrist who sat at her tiny table looking shocked and upset.
But Thorn only had eyes for Neh’sa. She didn’t say a word but her face had gone very pale and her full lips had compressed to a thin, white line of disapproval.
“Mistress?” he murmured, feeling worried about her. “Neh’sa?”
“Excuse me.” She rose suddenly, shaking out the creases in her gown.
Thorn started to rise too but she motioned him to kneel back down.
“No, Thorn. I’m just somewhat startled, that’s all…I need a little time alone.”
“You shouldn’t be alone,” he protested. “Not in a place like this.”
“I’m not going to the dance floor or anywhere outside the club,” she told him. “I’ll just take a little trip to the fresher. It might help me clear my head. You couldn’t follow me in there anyway.”
“I suppose not.” Thorn sank unwillingly back to his knees.
As Neh’sa was preparing to exit the banquet hall, Lady Wraith’neck was also standing. She shot Neh’sa a look of pure, malevolent triumph. Clearly she was about to make some kind of a speech of acceptance. Thorn wished he didn’t have to hear it but as Neh’sa had practically ordered him to stay put, it seemed he had no choice.
“Don’t leave yet, Neh’sanna,” she said, sneering as the other Mistress passed her. “I have a gift for you—for all my fellow Mistresses who are part of the Sacred Seven. Here.”
She thrust something like a long metal poker with a flattened end into Neh’sa’s hands.
“What…what is this?” Neh’sa murmured, still looking shocked and deeply troubled.
“A self heating branding iron of course. All you have to do is press the button on the handle and you’re in business.”
Lady Wraith’neck smirked at her and demonstrated with a similar iron she was holding in her hand. One press of the button and the flat bottom which must be the brand grew suddenly cherry-red with heat.
“For branding those troublesome slaves who don’t respond to the pain collar. I had this one made especially for you—your family crest is the brand,” Lady Wraith’neck purred with malicious satisfaction.
“You…I…” Neh’sa shook her head, clearly at a loss for words and Thorn couldn’t blame her. Lady Wraith’neck’s “gift” flew directly in the face of everything Neh’sa believed in. Finally she just shook her head and took her leave, the hateful branding iron hanging limp in her hand, as though she didn’t know what to do with it.
Lady Wraith’neck lost no time in handing out more of the personalized self-heating branding irons to the other members of the Sacred Seven and even bestowed one on Lady Thrust’much herself.
“Thank you, Lady Thrust’much for this exquisite honor,” she began as Neh’sa stepped quietly beneath the golden arch and disappeared from view. “I’m so touched by this appointment though I must say, I think it’s been a long time in coming…”
Thorn tuned her out as she continued to boast, his thoughts turning to Neh’sa instead. Was she upset? Well, obviously but how upset was she? He knew she disliked Lady Wraith’neck who was a truly toxic bitch. And now she would have to work with her as one of the Sacred Seven—with the ceremony for the Library of All Knowledge coming up in only a few days.
Thorn wondered if the sadistic Mistress would bring her night-slinker body-slave with her to the Library or leave it behind. He couldn’t imagine how they could conduct a ceremony with a beast like that roaming around…wait.
Thorn frowned. Speaking of the night-slinker, where was it?
He looked under Lady Wraith’neck’s table but it wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t at her side, either. In fact, as he scanned the banquet hall, he realized it wasn’t anywhere in the huge room.
He scooted closer to Lady Wraith’neck’s area, wanting to get a better look into the shadowy well under her table and make sure the night-slinker wasn’t just balled up down there and hiding.
The beast was gone but what he saw gave Thorn a cold chill down his spine—there were several pieces of metal and leather lying loose in the floor.
The first one he recognized as the strap the night-slinker had worn around its arms to keep them fastened securely to its side. The second thing was its muzzle.
Thorn began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and within him, the fire blazed up. Neh’sa was all alone in this fucking club and Lady Wraith’neck’s predatory night-slinker was unbound, unmuzzled, and missing.
What in the Seven Hells was he going to do?
Chapter Twenty
Neh’sa wandered down the long, narrow corridor that led to the Mistresses’ fresher, feeling blindsided by Lady Thrust’much’s strange decision. What could possibly be going on with the Grande Dame of the Council? Why would she make such a move—confer such an honor on someone like the sadistic, reprehensible Lady Wraith’neck?
She glanced down at the personalized, self-heating branding iron which bore her crest on it—a scripted, curving capital N in the center surrounded by glyphs for self-control, open-mindedness, and justice. These were the things Neh’sa believed in—not the heedless, petulant, sadistic form of punishment which would lead her to brand an unwilling body-slave. As if she would ever even consider using such a thing!
Neh’sa was tempted to throw the hateful brand from her and she almost did but then she considered where she was. Club Carnivorous was packed tonight and the building that housed it was old and probably had more than a few code violations. There was alcohol everywhere, not to mention the highly flammable spiked dream gas floating above the dance floor.
In short, the place was a tinderbox waiting to be lit and the stupid self-heating brand was a fire hazard. Reluctantly, Neh’sa kept hold of it.
She finally reached the Mistresses’ fresher, and turned slowly into the pink marbled area, gilded with touches of gold and Vrian velvet. She didn’t actually have to relieve herself, she just wanted an excuse – any excuse – to get away from lady Wraith’neck and her horrible gloating. Sinking down onto a gold and velvet couch, Neh’sa dropped the hateful branding iron on the cushions beside her and put her head in her hands.
What was she going to do? The ceremony for the re-dedication of the Library of All Knowledge was just two days away. It was a cause she had worked for and truly believed in, in the past. But now the addition of Lady Wraith’neck seemed to sully it. Just the idea of appearing in public with the other Mistress and having to acknowledge her as one of the Sacred Seven made Neh’sa’s stomach turn. How could she align herself with such a woman? How could she ever…
A soft hissing sound cut through her thoughts and made her raise her head. Was there a dream gas leak somewhere? But how could that be this far from the dance floor? But if it wasn’t a leak, what could be making the strange sound?
Neh’sa had thought she was alone in the fresher but now she rose slowly and craned her neck to try and peer over the tops of the pink marble stalls to her right.
“Hello?” She called uncertainly. “Is anyone there?”
The hissing grew louder. It appeared to be coming from the stall furthest from her. For some reason the sound gave Neh’sa a very bad feeling. She felt the short hairs along the back of her neck begin to rise and her stomach clenched like a slow, slick fist.
“Hello?” She said again, this time backing up instead of walking forward. “If someone’s in here, let me know. Are you all right? Are you sick? I can get you some help…”
Her words died away as the stall door slowly swung outward. Crouched inside the plush necessary room with its seat of velvet and its walls of shiny pink marble was the strange pale, bony beast Lady Wraith’neck had brought as her body slave.
“Oh…” Neh’sa breathed, uncertain of what to do.
The blind bulbous head turned towards the so
und of her voice, the nostril slits flaring to show a red lining that pulsed like blood through an artery. There was no muzzle on the creature now and when it opened its mouth, it seemed that its teeth had grown. The long, thin needle-like fangs were at least the length of Neh’sa’s index finger and when the creature’s lipless mouth stretched into a grin, they grew longer still.
Horrified by the sight, Neh’sa bit back a gasp and took another shuffling step back. At once, the creature’s head jerked up, its nostrils flaring again as though it was tracking her.
Oh my Goddess it’s hunting me, she thought. It seemed that her heart had lodged itself right in her throat, blocking her airway and making it difficult to breathe.
What is it doing out of its restraints? How did it get off the muzzle it was wearing?
She had no answers but she was about to have plenty of problems if she didn’t get away from the night slinker before it found her.
Neh’sa wondered if she was agile enough—quiet enough—to sneak around it and out the fresher door. After all, it was blind. She took a slow step to the right, trying to be as noiseless as possible.
But the blind white head jerked up again, still clearly tracking her location. Slowly it raised itself to its full height of nearly 8 standard feet tall and hissed again—a low, somehow horribly curious sound. It seemed almost to be staring right at her, even though that was impossible because it couldn’t see. Could it be that its other senses were so acute there was no hiding from it even though it was blind?
Neh’sa certainly hoped not. Though Lady Wraith’neck had claimed that night-slinkers were semi-sentient, she saw nothing but animal cunning on the strange alien face. Nothing but the blind hunger of a predator searching for its prey, and she was that prey.
Goddess help me, she prayed, feeling sick with fear. What am I going to do?
The iron, whispered a little voice in her head that didn’t sound like her own. Remember the branding iron. You left it on the couch behind you. It’s your only weapon – use it.
Heeding the voice, Neh’sa took another step back towards the pink velvet and gold sofa. The night-slinker tracked her alertly, its head moving in quick jerking motions almost like a bird’s as it registered her movements.
Heart pounding in her chest, Neh’sa felt blindly for the long metal pole of the branding iron, not daring to take her eyes from the pale beast even for a second. She had an idea that it would spring the moment it didn’t think she was looking. It made no sense really, but she couldn’t help thinking it. So she kept her eyes glued to Lady Wraith’neck’s pale beast, hoping against hope that it would leave her alone. But she couldn’t forget the other Mistress’s words:
“I’m afraid once one of these magnificent beasts decides it finds your personal scent alluring it won’t stop tracking you until it finds a way to get you alone.”
Was that the problem? Did the night-slinker like the way she smelled? It certainly hadn’t seemed to like the way Lady Wraith’neck smelled – that was, if the way it had jerked away from her every time it got near her was any indication. Neh’sa remembered the strange, unpleasant, musky perfume the other Mistress had been wearing. Perhaps it was some kind of repellent? Some way to keep the strange beast she had brought from fixating on her?
Neh’sa’s thoughts were interrupted when the night-slinker took a slow measured pace towards her, its blind head cocked to one side as though listening intently. Its long, snaky black tongue with the forked end slithered out, as though tasting the air.
Looking for me, Neh’sa thought numbly. It’s tasting the air to see if it can catch my scent.
She gripped the heavy metal branding iron tightly in one sweating fist. She had to get out of here, slip past this thing and get back to the banquet hall. She had to…
At that moment, the night slinker launched itself at her.
It happened so fast, Neh’sa almost didn’t see it coming. One moment she was staring up into the strange blind face with its long snaking tongue and slitted red nostrils, and the next it was flying through the air directly towards her.
Its mouth gaped wide, its needle sharp teeth as long as her hand now. There could be no doubt about its intentions. It was going to take her head off with one monstrous bite.
She was going to die.
No, I can’t die – I won’t!
Neh’sa swung the iron, almost reflexively. If she had taken time to aim it, she probably would’ve missed. But her protective instincts kicked in and her body seemed to go into automatic mode. She saw her arm draw back and swing the heavy metal brand at the creature rushing her. Then she felt, rather than saw, the brand connect with its blind white face.
It made a hissing scream and jumped back as though it had been burned.
Which it hasn’t, because I forgot to turn the damn branding iron on, Neh’sa thought semi-hysterically. What the hell is wrong with me?
She fumbled at the handle looking for the button to turn the brand on but she was almost too late. The creature, still clearly intent on having her for dinner, sprang at her again.
Neh’sa swung as hard as she could but the brand was only half hot when it connected with the thin, white shoulder.
It gave another screaming hiss, its nostril slits wrinkling in rage. Crouching in the corner of the fresher, it prepared to spring again.
Clearly it wasn’t giving up any time soon.
That’s all right, Neh’sa thought grimly. Neither am I.
The iron was red-hot now, the metal a glowing rose-gold that reminded her of the flames that grew in Thorn’s eyes when he got angry or upset.
Thorn, she thought, her heart squeezing painfully in her chest. If only I’d let you come with me to the fresher like you wanted to. If she had, she might not be fighting for her life right now. The night-slinker was strong and horribly fast but Neh’sa had an idea the big Kindred would somehow be able to handle it.
Of course, she would never know because she had foolishly come to the fresher by herself.
“Come on,” she said to the crouching white beast, its blind head turned towards her, its maw wrinkled in a hissing scowl. “Just come on and try it.”
The slinker sprang at her a third time, but this time Neh’sa was fully ready for it. Instead of swinging, she crouched and held the burning hot iron at an arms length, gripping it tightly with both hands.
The night-slinker ran right into the iron, its bony chest connecting with the heated surface of the brand as its hideously long teeth snapped in her face.
Neh’sa cried out breathlessly, the sound torn from her by fear. And then the alien face was gone as the slinker yanked back from the burning brand with a shriek.
But it only disappeared for a moment, just long enough for the heavy branding iron to sag in Neh’sa’s grip. Then, suddenly, it reappeared, the knife-like teeth going straight for her throat as it pushed her over backwards.
Somehow, though she was flat on her back, Neh’sa managed to keep her grip on the branding iron. She shoved it, one-handed, between the gnashing teeth, wedging it as far back in the night-slinker’s gaping maw as she could.
It screeched at her, its dagger-like teeth grinding against the metal. Then it yanked the hot iron from her hand and slung it away with a jerk of its bulbous white head.
The branding iron clanged on the marble and came to a stop in the corner of the fresher, glowing like an abandoned star. Neh’sa stretched out her fingers, reaching for it desperately, but the brand was far beyond her reach.
The night-slinker pinned her shoulders to the ground with its claws and hissed in triumph. Despite its bony appearance, it was horribly strong and heavy—there was no getting away from it. As she stared up into its nightmarish face, Neh’sa could have sworn it was grinning.
“No…no,” she heard herself whisper in dismay. She was weaponless now—completely unprotected. Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest for a long moment, as though it was afraid to keep pumping. A cold sweat had broken out all over her body and she fe
lt completely numb.
Bet that numbness won’t last for long, a sarcastic little voice in the back of her head whispered nastily. I bet it will wear right off the minute that thing sinks its teeth into you.
As though to prove her point, the night-slinker struck again—its ghastly mouth stretched wide to reveal the razor-sharp teeth and a long black tongue which drooled weird, blue saliva.
Neh’sa closed her eyes, unable to watch her death coming at her, not wanting to see the moment it ripped off her head.
Please, Goddess, she prayed fervently. Please, just let it be fast…
But though she felt the heat of the creature’s gaping mouth and smelled the fetid, rotten-meat reek of its hot breath blowing in her face, the teeth didn’t touch her. Neh’sa heard them click together angrily, but they closed over empty air.
What in the Goddess’s name was going on? Was the monster teasing her?
Slowly, Neh’sa opened her eyes and saw that two strong, long-fingered hands were wrapped around the skinny white throat. Thorn was behind the night-slinker, looming over its shoulder, with a look of fierce concentration on his face. The sparks in his blue and green eyes had grown to flames—the fire dancing higher than Neh’sa had ever seen it before.
“Neh’sa” he growled when he saw her looking at him. “Try to…roll out from under when I…pull it back. Hurry—it’s fucking strong.”
The paralysis which had somehow gripped her limbs suddenly eased. When the big Kindred gave a mighty tug, every muscle in his body straining with the effort to lift the creature off her, Neh’sa rolled away, her dress slithering on the cold marble floor as she scrambled to get free of the night-slinker.
It hissed and writhed crazily in Thorn’s grip, slithering like a snake, snapping and clawing wildly to get free. Somehow it managed to twist around so it was facing him but the big Kindred refused to loosen his grip. Grimly, he held on despite the way its razor-sharp talons raked his broad chest, leaving bloody gashes in his smooth, tan skin.
“No, you fucker,” Neh-sa heard him growl. “You’re not going anywhere. You don’t get a second chance to hurt my female.”
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