“Doesn’t matter how I did it—what matters is that I will do it to you too unless you drop to your knees right now and beg your Mistress’s forgiveness, Ranks,” Malik growled. “Right. Now.”
Ranks looked like he wanted to protest…but then he took a second look at the two unconscious slaves on the floor. Faint smoke was rising from their hair and there was a scent like scorched flesh which didn’t mix well at all with the soft, floral and herb aroma of the bathing suite. Reluctantly, he dropped to his knees and turned to face Nikki.
“Mistress,” he said sullenly, “I beg your pardon for my behavior. I have no excuse except I was driven crazy by your beautiful body.”
“You are not forgiven—that was not acceptable in any way!” Nikki pointed a shaking finger at him and spoke to Malik. “Get him out of here—get all of them out of here. I never want to see them again!”
Malik frowned and called a security detail, just as he had with Ugger. Guards came and took the three slaves away—dragging the two unconscious ones—and leaving her alone with the big Kindred at last.
Malik looked at her and shook his head.
“Mistress, this is bad. Really bad.”
“You don’t have to tell me that!” Nikki’s heart was still beating so hard it felt like it was shaking her entire body and her stomach was rolling so that she thought she might be sick any minute. “I can’t believe they just came in here like that,” she said, putting a hand to her stomach. “And that they wanted to…were going to…”
But she couldn’t make herself finish the sentence—couldn’t make herself say that if Malik had walked in even a minute later, she might have been raped by the three angry men.
“You control your slaves with an iron fist at all times, Mistress,” Malik said, frowning. “And you enjoy teasing them with your body constantly while almost never allowing them a sexual release. Every male in this place spends most of his life in a state of lustful rage. Of course they’re going to come after you the moment they sense your control is slipping.”
“My control is not slipping!” Nikki snapped.
“They why did you cry in my arms not thirty minutes ago?” There was a quiet intensity in his deep voice and his silver eyes were filled with concern. “The Mistress I know would never have allowed herself to be so vulnerable with a slave.”
So she had made a big mistake in allowing her emotions to take over, just as she’d feared, Nikki thought dismally. But she hadn’t been able to help herself at the time—the tears had just taken over and she hadn’t been able to stop them.
“I told you, I was working through some…issues,” she said, lifting her chin. “You don’t have to worry—it won’t happen again. I am in perfect control of myself and I was in control of the situation with the slaves too.” Which was a complete lie but now she felt backed into a corner.
“Then why didn’t you use their pain collars on them?” Malik demanded. “In the past you would have had them on their knees for even daring to enter the bathing suite without permission! What has come over you, Mistress? It’s like you’re not even the same female who bought me so many cycles ago.”
Nikki felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cubes in the pit of her stomach. She remembered Mistress Hellenix’s words—her absolute assurance that Malik would kill her if he found out she was an imposter. She couldn’t let that happen—she just couldn’t!
“I’m the same person I always was,” she said, frowning at him regally. “Now kindly help me get dressed for dinner, Malik.”
“But Mistress—” he started to protest.
“No!” Nikki held up a hand to stop him. For a moment, she almost felt like she was channeling the real Mistress Hellenix. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore—I mean it!” she said in the coldest, most forbidding tone she could manage.
The big Kindred looked surprised and confused, but finally he nodded.
“As you wish, Mistress,” he rumbled. “Come—I have a selection of gowns for you to pick from. I hope at least one of them will meet with your approval.”
“Thank you.” Nikki followed him, feeling that disaster had been very narrowly averted. She had to do a better job of pretending to be her evil twin if she wanted to survive this bizarre experience!
She had to.
Chapter Nine
The Yonnite food was like nothing Nikki had ever eaten before and, in most cases, like nothing she would ever want to eat again.
The very first course was a shiny black roasted beetle as big as her head lying on its back in a pile of bright purple salad greens. The bottom shell of its thorax had been carefully removed, showing a nauseating mass of yellow and red guts within, which had been cooked and seasoned with the most exotic herbs and spices—as the slave who served it to her assured her.
Nikki nearly threw up all over it.
If there was one thing she hated it was bugs. How was it that her evil twin showed no such aversion? She thought of the box filled with roach-like beetles in the spa and shivered. Either Mistress Hellenix was truly fearless or she just didn’t mind insects and other creepy-crawly things.
“Take it away,” she told the slave who was serving her. She knew she had to do better and pretending to be the real Hellenix but she couldn’t—absolutely couldn’t—bring herself to even touch the shiny black bug and its disgusting exposed guts—let alone put any of it in her mouth.
The slave looked surprised.
“But Mistress, it is your favorite.”
“Not tonight,” Nikki snapped. “Now take it away or…or I’ll use the pain collar on you—I swear I will.”
Which was an empty threat since she couldn’t remember the word Mistress Hellenix had told her to activate the slaves’ collars and she wouldn’t hurt anyone over something as small as a bad meal anyway. But she couldn’t stand to look at the disgusting bug guts one minute longer!
The slave turned pale and quickly whisked the offending plate away. But the next course wasn’t much better.
“What is this?” Nikki asked when he placed a long, furry object also plated on purple salad greens in front of her.
And how in the world am I supposed to eat it? she wondered to herself. It was about as long as her forearm and covered in many long, hair-like orange spikes that were tipped with blood-red. To be honest, what it really looked like was a giant wooly caterpillar—the kind with poison spines that would make your hand swell up to three times its normal size if you so much as brushed against it.
“Why, Mistress—this is a broiled garrum worm,” the slave said carefully. “The spikes are left on for decoration but I will, of course, remove them so that you may eat the delectable meat within.”
As he spoke, he used a long-handled utensil to whisk away the outer hide covered in orange and crimson spikes. Underneath, the worm looked even less edible—if that was possible. The pale gray tube of worm-meat which was revealed was threaded with blue and purple veins. It looked bizarrely intestinal and not at all like something Nikki wanted to put in her mouth.
Ugh! She couldn’t help recoiling from the disgusting dish. Didn’t they serve any cuisine here that wasn’t insect-based?
“Do you not like this either, my Mistress?” the slave asked, looking worried.
“No,” Nikki said shortly. “Take it away and bring me a salad.”
“A…salad?” The slave looked confused. “Is that some new food you found on one of your many travels, Mistress? If you will describe it to me, I will ask the chef to make it.”
“It’s like this.” Nikki pointed at the purple salad greens that the massive intestine-looking caterpillar worm thing sat on. “Just lots of this with some kind of tangy dressing and crunch toppings.”
The slave nodded quickly. “Yes, my Mistress—I will bring you a, uh, ‘salad,’ at once.”
“Thank you.” Nikki sat back in the throne-like dining chair which was at the end of a very long, highly polished table. The table looked like it could seat fifty with ease but sh
e was the only one here, all by herself at one end with nothing but the silverware for company. Well, the silverware and a strange-looking contraption she assumed dispensed some kind of alien condiment.
She wondered if Mistress Hellenix was always alone for supper. If so, how lonely her life must be! Malik had informed her that he would be in the ante-room by the grand dining chamber if she needed him. The way he spoke made Nikki think he was always banished to another room during meals. And there was no one else here either. No one to talk with or laugh with or love—how sad.
Nikki couldn’t help remembering the family dinners they’d had back home, before Gary had gotten so distant and the three boys had grown out of their little, cuddly stage. True, the kids had fought like cats and dogs at times but there had been happy moments too and it was certainly never tomb-silent, like it was here at the end of the vast, elaborate dining table.
She was beginning to re-think her envy of her evil twin. True, Mistress Hellenix lived in the lap of luxury but she was, apparently, in constant danger from the very slaves she presumed to rule over. Nikki had only been here most of a day and already she had been attacked and nearly sexually assaulted not once but twice. Also, the opulent palace was lonely with no one to talk to.
Of course, she’d been feeling lonely in her regular life back home too, she admitted. Half the time Gary didn’t even come home on time for dinner and when she forced the boys to sit down to a meal together the result was sullen silence or endless bickering. It felt like they hadn’t been a real family in a long time.
So I guess I can’t exactly say that my situation is that much better than Mistress Hellenix’s—just lonely in a different way, Nikki thought. Although her life certainly does seem to be more dangerous than mine.
Well, she would be lonely in a whole different way once she got home—she was going to be a single mom. And even if she wanted to try dating again, good luck finding a man who would be willing to take on two tweens and a sullen teen as stepsons—it just wasn’t going to happen. No man wanted that kind of responsibility. She might as well face it, her love life was effectively over and the intense orgasm Malik had given her was probably going to be the last time she was touched by a man for the rest of her life.
Thinking of that—remembering the way the big Kindred had made her come so shamelessly on his fingers—made her blush and feel all trembly inside. Nikki pushed the feeling away fiercely. He had only been doing his duty and besides, there was absolutely zero sense in getting all mushy over a man who could and would kill her if he found out she wasn’t his real Mistress.
Trying to put the big bodyslave out of her mind, she picked up the strange condiment dispenser and examined it from all angles. It was shiny and silver and had multiple arms branching off a central trunk—a little like a candlestick, only there were no candles in it. Each branch ended with a little golden nub instead. But though she pressed them carefully, nothing came out of any of the nubs.
Nikki frowned. Well, maybe it wasn’t a condiment dispenser after all—maybe it was just for decoration, though it wasn’t very pretty in her opinion. In fact, with its knobby, twisted appearance it was kind of ugly.
“Whatever,” she muttered and put the weird thing away from her, towards the center of the table. She wondered what her salad would look like. She normally wouldn’t have looked forward to bright purple lettuce but in this case, anything that wasn’t a giant bug would be welcome.
She didn’t have to wait long.
“Here you are, Mistress!” The serving slave set a vessel as large as a mixing bowl in front of her. It was heaped high with the purple greens, as well as some blue and green ones, and covered in tiny dark blue and red specs that looked a little like multicolored bacon bits. To accompany the salad, there was a miniature silver tureen filled with bright blue sauce that Nikki assumed was the dressing.
“Thank you,” she told the slave. “This is more like it.”
“You have never asked for it before, Mistress, but the chef was more than happy to make it,” he said, nodding obsequiously. “Anything for you, of course. Er…would you care to taste it and make certain it’s exactly what you want before I leave you to dine in peace?”
Nikki supposed that was a pretty good idea. Though the salad looked appetizing—in a weird, alien kind of way—there was no telling what it might taste like.
“Of course,” she said, nodding.
“And…” The slave hesitated. “Will you be requiring the use of the sniffer?”
“The sniffer?” Nikki frowned and saw that he was pointing to the strange silver candlestick-thing with the golden nubs that she had placed further down the table. So maybe it did dispense some kind of condiment after all. But whatever it was, she didn’t know how to get it out and fiddling with it in front of the slave would only make her look like she didn’t know what she was doing.
“Thanks but no, I don’t need the, uh, sniffer,” she said firmly. “I’m just going to try the salad like it is.”
There was nothing resembling a salad fork in the confusing array of Yonnite cutlery (which appeared to be made of solid gold) but she found a pair of miniature tongs and used them instead. Picking up a tiny purple leaf, liberally speckled with the red and blue flecks, she dipped it carefully into the tureen of bright blue dressing and put it in her mouth.
The flavor was strange but very good—tangy and crispy and slightly bitter—maybe because the purple lettuce stuff was meant to be used as a garnish and not actually a meal. But Nikki didn’t care—finally she was eating something that wasn’t a giant bug and that was good enough for her. The red and blue bacon-bit specs crunched between her teeth in a satisfying way. They were slightly peppery, adding bright sparks of heat to the dish.
The serving slave was watching her with wide eyes, his hands clasped in front of him in apparent concern.
“I like it,” Nikki said, nodding in approval. “Please give my compliments to the chef.”
“I am so glad you are pleased, my Mistress!” The slave looked vastly relieved and Nikki felt bad about threatening him earlier. “And…may I tell the kitchen slaves that they will not be flogged with the pain whip tonight?” he asked.
“Flogged with the pain whip?” Nikki looked at him, surprised.
“Well, yes.” The slave nodded. “Usually when a dish displeases you so much that you send it back, everyone in the kitchen must suffer for it. Including…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving in his throat. “Including the servers.”
God, her evil twin really was evil, Nikki thought dismally! From the look on the server’s face, sending back dishes and flogging everyone was a regular occurrence here in Mistress Hellenix’s opulent palace of pain.
“Don’t worry,” she told the slave. “I have no intention of flogging anyone.”
“Oh, thank you, Mistress—thank you!” His eyes were shining and he bowed again and again as he backed away from her, his hands clutched to his broad, bare chest.
At least his shaft wasn’t sticking out of his trousers like most of the other slaves around here, Nikki thought as she watched him go. Instead, he had one of those little metal cages around his equipment she had seen a few of the other slaves wearing. It was much better than having a hard dick waving in your face when you were trying to eat—which of course was a problem she never had back home, thank goodness!
Turning her attention back to dinner, she picked up the small tureen of bright blue dressing and ladled it over a small portion of the purple salad. There was no way she could eat all this—there was enough for ten starving Mistresses in the big bowl, she estimated. Still, she felt so hungry at the moment, she might polish off a good portion of the alien salad.
The server came back for a moment with an elaborate golden goblet and a pitch-black bottle bigger than any wine bottle Nikki had ever seen.
“The chef asked me to send out your favorite liquor, Mistress,” he said and poured a generous helping of dark green liquid into the goblet.
But now it was back with a vengeance. In this strange world, her disloyal husband and ungrateful kids seemed—and were—a million miles away. It was time to take care of herself and enjoy a meal without worrying about catering to everyone else for a change.
Nikki went in for another bite and then another and another. The more she ate, the better she liked it—especially the way the little blue and red specks popped between her teeth.
She had eaten almost the entire portion coated in dressing when she noticed a strange tickling sensation in her mouth and then in her throat.
“What in the world?” Nikki swallowed the mouthful she was eating and looked more closely at the salad. Most of it looked normal but the small area she had doused with the bright blue dressing was moving—or at least, the little blue and red specks were.
Nikki took a closer look and saw that the tiny specks—really no bigger than chia seeds—were acting like they were trying to get away from the dressing. They were slowly migrating away from the leaves which were coated in bright blue and trying to get to dryer ground.
Feeling sick, Nikki found a golden tweezer-like utensil in the array of cutlery. Picking up one of the bright red specs carefully, she brought it up to her eye.
To her horror, she saw tiny legs wiggling in the air and long, fine antennae—almost completely invisible—waving as well.
“Bugs!” She threw down the tweezers and pushed the bowl away. “Oh my God, they put bugs in the salad too! Disgusting!”
She grabbed a goblet of wine—was it wine?—that the serving slave had poured her and took a huge gulp, trying to swish out her mouth and get rid of the remaining bugs she might have swallowed.
Twisted: Brides of the Kindred 23 Page 12