Lex Talionis

by Keira Michelle Telford

  “My child?” She confronts him on his syntax. “So it’s my child now?”

  “You screwed Luka.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

  “When his eyes didn’t turn, I thought you were telling the truth.”

  “I was telling the truth,” she snarls at him. “Why are you being like this? So that you have an excuse to spend another night with Linx?”

  “I slept on her couch. Besides, you’ve got some nerve. You’ve been fawning over that Russian since we picked her up in Manchester. Did you fuck her last night?”

  “No, I didn’t fuck her. And I haven’t fucked Luka either.”

  “Do you want to fuck her?”

  Silver can’t bring herself to lie, so she says nothing.

  “Go ahead.” Alex shuffles his pillows around and lies down. “Get it out of your system.” He curls up under the sheets, kneeing Silver’s ass.

  “Why?” Silver gets up, forced off the bed by his legs. “So you can fuck Linx and say it was justified?”

  “Have fun in London,” he mutters, refusing to look at her.

  “Fucking shitbag.” She pivots away from the bed and storms out of the infirmary.

  In the lobby, she gets to the front door just as someone on the outside swings it inward. A coat peg on the back of the door slams into her injured shoulder, causing her to reel back toward the wall.

  The pain is intense.

  “Shit.” Carmen steps into the lobby, realizing immediately that she’s to blame. “Are you all right?”

  Silver nods, despite the fire shooting down her arm. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Visiting my friend, Seven.”

  “Good.” Silver pushes herself away from the wall, eager to vacate the building and get back to Ria. “Say your goodbyes.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “Tomorrow morning.” She yanks open the door. “I need to get the fuck out of this place.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Dinner is short and sweet. Silver demands that Ria be fed, and Honey orders the people in charge of serving the food—rabbit stew and bread rolls—to comply. After all, it’s her last meal here.

  Ostracized from the Delta community by her association with Ria, Silver sits beside her at a small picnic table on the edge of the courtyard. They’re joined by Carmen, who, being a Taint, was never fully accepted into the community to begin with, and Luka, who’s trying to avoid the amorous attentions of a woman he claims is about a decade too old for him—which probably means they’re the same age.

  When she’s finished eating, Silver slips her hand beneath the table and pulls Ria’s dress up over her knees, careful to do it slowly and without any sudden movements so that their table companions won’t notice.

  Though Ria is desperately anxious they’ll be caught touching inappropriately, she doesn’t want Silver to stop. She feels Silver’s fingers edge over her thigh, trailing from her knee to the top of her stocking and tickling the bare skin above.

  If they were alone, she’d spread her legs and move Silver’s hand up to her core. How good it would feel to have Silver’s fingers inside her. How easily she would come. How badly she wants to be fucked …

  Fearful that her arousal might be evident—and it is—she looks down into the remains of her stew, trying not to make any noise as Silver moves her hand slightly higher.

  Carmen glances at her flushed cheeks. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Ria nods. “Perfectly. Just a little hot, that’s all.”

  Silver battles a smirk. She’s eager to get back to the bedroom so they can spend some time alone together, but after dinner, Ria’s mood seems to shift.

  While Silver discusses morning plans with Carmen, and assures Luka that his help won’t be required—indeed, that the journey would be too dangerous for a marked Delta to undertake in Mercia—Ria makes apologies and leaves the table.

  Silver expects to find her in the bedroom, perhaps unclothed, hopefully ready for bed, but she finds the room empty. A quick search of Gwydir turns her up in the grounds, sitting on a bench, feeding sunflower seeds to a peacock.

  “There you are.” Silver sits beside her. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Ria dries her cheeks, but it’s obvious that she’s been crying; her smudged eye makeup gives it away.

  “What’s wrong?” Silver rubs her back, instantly concerned. “Has someone been talking shit to you again?”

  Ria shakes her head, brushing teardrops off her eyelashes. “I’ve been thinking about tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about.” Silver keeps rubbing her. “I’m gonna make sure you get home safe.”

  That doesn’t seem to console her.

  “How will you get back here after?” New tears form in her eyes.

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  “I don’t want to put you in any danger.”

  The tears tumble free and Silver thumbs them away.

  “I don’t know life any other way.”

  Ria wishes she could be convinced so easily, but the truth is, Silver’s casual disregard for her own safety isn’t comforting, it’s frightening.

  “I don’t think I can do this.” She turns away, scattering a handful of seeds for the peacock. “I can’t let you go with me.” She brushes stray seeds off her lap. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Silver sidles closer, driving her hand under Ria’s dress again.

  “I’m being selfish.” Ria stays Silver’s hand before she gets above her stockings. “I can’t take you away from your husband.”

  “You’re not taking me anywhere, I’m choosing to leave.”

  “You’re pregnant …”

  “I’m not an invalid.”

  “Silver …” Ria bites on her bottom lip, trying not to cry again. “You have a husband. In a few months, you’ll have a newborn. Perhaps we met at the wrong time.”

  “Does any part of this feel wrong to you?” Silver slinks off the bench and kneels on the stony ground in front of her.

  “What’re you doing?” Ria can hardly breathe.

  Silver doesn’t answer. She bunches Ria’s dress up, exposes her thighs and parts her legs, then reaches for her hips. Giving one firm tug, she pulls Ria forward on the bench, perching her ass on the very edge of the seat.

  Ria clutches at the hem of her skirt as Silver leans forward and kisses her inner thigh.

  “Nichego sebe!” she exclaims in Russian, then moans and throws her head back, trying to hold onto sense and reason. “Anyone could come!”

  “No”—Silver kisses her again—“just you.”

  “Oh, god.” Ria closes her eyes and gasps, Silver’s kisses moving closer to her loins. “Your kisses feel so incredible. This isn’t fair.”

  She brings a hand to the back of Silver’s head, moaning again when Silver bites down on her tender skin, hard enough to leave a mark.

  “Do you want me?” Silver drags her teeth along the top of Ria’s thigh.

  “You know I do.” Ria presses her hand over Silver’s on her lap, entwining their fingers. “Very much.”

  Silver lifts her head. “Then I’m coming with you to London.” She gets up off her knees. “Now let’s go to bed.” She holds out her hand.

  Ria doesn’t take it. “We’re not handcuffed anymore. If people see you taking me to your room, there won’t be an excuse for it.”

  “I wasn’t aware that I needed one.”

  Silver nabs Ria’s hand, hauls her off the bench, and leads her upstairs to the bedroom—and Ria utters no objection. Her legs weak, she holds Silver’s arm for support, terrified and thrilled by the thought of spending another night with her new paramour. Sadly, the sight of Alex’s belongings bundled in the corner of the room brings her back to reality.

  “Where’s your husband?”

  “He’s still in the infirmary.” Silver strips off her shirt. “They’re keeping him in o
vernight.”

  “Is he all right?”

  Silver laughs. “Dumbass fell off his horse. He’s totally fine.”

  Ria lingers at the foot of the bed, eyeing it longingly. “Does he know you’re sharing a bed with me tonight?”

  “Does it matter?” Silver pulls off her boots.

  “Of course it matters.” Ria fidgets with the end of her braid. “Did you discuss this situation with him at all?”

  “We had a fight.”

  “Because of me?” Ria assumes.

  “Actually, his sights are firmly pinned on Luka.” Silver wriggles out of her jeans. “He found out Luka’s a Delta—like our baby is—and now he’s letting his imagination run away with him.”

  Ria averts her gaze from Silver’s semi-nude body. “I don’t know that I’d blame him entirely. You know how insecure men can be when the physical relationship with their partner is compromised.”

  “Do I?” Silver raises an eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry.” Ria blushes. “I’m being too personal. It just occurred to me that since you’ve been wiped, and he’s still a Taint …”

  “You’re right, we can’t boink anymore, but this is his own doing. He didn’t want to be wiped because he said it’d be easier to protect me and the baby if he were stronger.”

  “That’s quite the chivalrous sacrifice.”

  “Sure, but it’s a lie. He likes being a Taint, and that’s all there is to it.”

  Ria sits on the foot of the bed and removes her boots. “It must be hard to stay connected to someone when you can’t … connect with them.”

  “Now that you mention it, I’m curious.” Silver leans against the headboard. “How come you’re not contagious? The virus is in your blood, too.”

  “I’m deactivated.”

  She’s going to leave it at that, but the blank look on Silver’s face forces her to explicate.

  “Remember how I told you the nanites can turn the virus on and off? Well, whether or not you receive any benefits of the virus at all depends upon whether or not you can afford it. To be activated, the government charges a monthly subscription fee, and it’s expensive. Most people—me included—can’t afford it. All the viral components in my blood are dormant, so I’m not contagious.”

  Silver can’t help wondering if that’s the future of Amaranthe. First, the British military swoops in and gives everyone the upgrade. They let them enjoy the benefits of it for free, get them hooked on it, then deactivate everyone and tell them, if they want to be reactivated, they have to pay for it. They’re no better than drug dealers.

  “You know”—Ria sits cross-legged at the foot of the bed, admiring Silver’s body in camisole and undies, wondering how long it’ll be before she loses that perfectly flat stomach—“many couples who want to have a child save up so that the mother can be activated during the pregnancy.”

  “What’s the benefit?” Silver gets inside the covers.

  “No stretch marks, no tearing during labor—lots of superficial things that benefit the mother, including helping to shed the baby weight. Internally, there are even more advantages. The developing baby is protected from virtually anything that happens to the mother: drug interactions, knocks and bumps, sickness. I’ve never known an activated mother to have any complications during pregnancy.”

  “That’s good to know.” Silver files the information away and pokes at Ria with her feet. “Are you getting into bed or what?”

  Ria sucks her lower lip into her mouth, pinching it between her teeth, thinking the proposition over. She knows she shouldn’t tempt herself, but she so desperately wants to fall asleep in Silver’s arms.

  In time, she walks around to the other side of the bed and peels back the covers, never once breaking eye contact.

  “Are you going to undress?” Silver entices her.

  “Should I?” Ria toys with the bow of silk lacing at her chest.

  “I’d like it if you did.”

  Still holding the eye-lock, Ria unlaces the bust of her dress. When it’s unlaced all the way, she slips it off her shoulders and lets it fall to her ankles, revealing her stockings, knickers, and corset.

  “Goddamn.” Silver roams her eyes up and down Ria’s body.

  Her cheeks aflame again, Ria gets onto the bed and rolls down her stockings.

  “You’re extremely beautiful.” Silver runs her index finger lightly up Ria’s leg, barely grazing her skin, all the way from her ankle to her thigh. “Just in case you were in any doubt about that.”

  Reminding herself to keep breathing, Ria lets down her hair. As she shakes it out, Silver catches sight of a small tattoo on the inside of her left wrist.

  “What does this mean?” She traces a finger over it.

  “It’s … umm … sort of like a family thing.” Ria remains deliberately vague. “What about this?” She draws out Silver’s left wrist, exploring the scarring with her fingers.

  “It’s not what you think.” Silver scratches at it, wishing the marks would fade. “Your country monitors people using the nanites. My city monitors people by putting microchips in their wrists.”

  “But you have multiple scars.”

  “Born, joined the Hunter Division, was banished, then temporarily reinstated, banished again, repatriated, and then rehired by the Hunter Division.” Silver wiggles seven fingers in the air. “Seven different tag insertions over the course of thirty-five years.”

  Ria peers more closely at it, feeling around beneath her skin. “Is it still in there.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do they track you with it?”

  “I fucking hope not.”

  Sensing this could be a heavy subject that’s best not broached at such a late hour, Ria kisses the mutilated skin, then works her way under the covers next to Silver, snuggling into her arms, loving how easy the closeness is for both of them.

  Still, she can’t completely relax until she clears up one niggling issue …

  “What’s going on with your husband?”

  “I’m not sure he still wants to be my husband.” Silver hugs Ria’s waist, encouraging her closer.

  “So what is this?” Ria weaves their legs together, making a tangle of bare skin. “Am I your mistress? Or your girlfriend?”

  “Does it need to be defined?”

  Silver drops her gaze to Ria’s lips, hinting at the prospect of a kiss, testing her reaction, to which Ria indicates her receptiveness with a subtle tilt of her head and the parting of her lips.

  Pulling their bodies tight together, Silver flicks her tongue into Ria’s mouth and brings her into another kiss. It intensifies quickly, and Silver rolls her onto her back, maneuvering between her legs.

  Ria clutches at Silver’s hair, twisting it up in her fingers. “Ya skhozhu po tebe s uma,” she purrs in her second tongue, pressing her chest against Silver’s, molding their bodies together.

  “Huh?” Silver stops kissing her for a moment. “Is that a happy noise? I can’t tell.”

  “Da.” Ria grins. “It means you’re making me crazy.”

  More kisses.

  Silver wraps her arm around Ria’s arched back. “This could be our last night together in a proper bed,” she whispers between kisses. “Shall we make the most of it?”

  Ria whines again, the mere suggestion of sexual intimacy sending shivers of arousal from tip to toe, her cunt pulsing impatiently. “You have no idea how much I want to, but—”

  She gasps and whimpers, Silver’s kisses trailing down her neck, her collar bone, and toward her chest. Closing her eyes, she feels Silver’s hand slide up to her breast, teasing her with the promise of fondling before tiptoeing to the middle of the corset to undo the lacing.

  “Wait.” Ria halts her hand. “We shouldn’t. Not tonight.”

  Silver doesn’t stop laying her lips all over Ria’s cleavage, hungrily licking, biting and kissing every bit of exposed skin. “Why not?”

  Prevented from tackling the corset, she drives a hand down below the
covers and up Ria’s thigh instead, pushing her legs further apart.

  “Stop, stop, stop,” Ria begs faintly.

  “I hate that word.” Silver scooches lower.

  “No …” Ria strives to think rationally.

  “I hate that one, too.”

  Silver kneels between her legs, bending to kiss her inner thigh where she bit earlier. She touches the bruise softly before placing her lips directly over the gusset of Ria’s underwear, pressing her mouth to the damp fabric.

  “Oh, fuck … ty mne ochen’ nuzhna.” Ria raises her hips as Silver reaches for the hem of her knickers, but she can’t quite go through with it.

  She clamps her hand down over top of Silver’s, holding her in place. “Silver,” she pleads again. “Pozhaluysta … please listen.”

  In that moment, something in her voice hits home hard for Silver. Not so many nights ago, she’d sounded the same, imploring Alex not to take advantage of her intense attraction to him and her thirst for sex.

  “Shit.” She drops her forehead against Ria’s hip, defeated by her own conscience. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

  Ria cups Silver’s face and draws her upwards till they’re eye to eye. “I want you so much.” She brings her into a quick kiss. “But whatever happens between us, it shouldn’t start like this.”

  She instigates another chaste lip-lock, then urges Silver to lie beside her.

  “Your husband’s lying wounded in a hospital bed,” she goes on. “You can’t spend the night making love to me while he has no idea what’s going on.”

  “I’m sure he assumes—”

  Ria puts two fingers to her lips, hushing her. “That’s not good enough, Silver. I don’t want to have an affair with you.”

  “Hey, you were the one who said you wanted to be my mistress.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Is it?”

  “Very. I told you men take mistresses all the time. Extramarital relationships are an accepted part of a couple’s marriage, but an affair’s not like that. An affair is a sordid, dirty thing that’s conducted in secret and surrounded by lies. Men have relationships with mistresses and affairs with whores. I don’t want to be your whore, and I don’t want you to sleep with me because you’re angry with your husband. Sleep with me because you want me the same way I want you, and make sure you’re free to do so.”