Steel and Promise

by Alexa Black

  Bored, jaded, or bitter. Those words certainly didn’t fit Lord Darien. What about the other nobles who used the dark channels?

  “I’m not, my lady. I like”—she waved her hands, indicating the room—“this.”

  “Is that so?” Liana chuckled. “You like this, but you still go for a woman who hurt you enough that you feel it when I touch you?”

  “I—”

  “Don’t tell me you actually like Teran Nivrai.”

  Cailyn tapped the collar at her throat. She thought back to the encounter with Lord Nalar.

  “Not many people do, my lady.”

  “Is that what this is about? Cailyn Derys, friend to the friendless?”

  “Maybe.” Cailyn thought of Teran’s stories about Mariel, of Teran’s lean, muscular body as it moved through fighting forms in an empty, silent room.

  “Then you pick strange people to help. Nivrai isn’t the only noble who could use some cheering up.”

  Cailyn looked up at Liana’s nightstand. The diadem of office gleamed against the rich, deep purple of the table. “Isn’t she? The Councils—”

  “Gave her an assignment.”

  “An assignment.”

  Liana frowned. “It really is unfortunate. But we need the information. And Nivrai likes that kind of thing.”

  Unfortunate. Was that all Lady Liana would ever have to say?

  Cailyn’s fists clenched. “It’s torture.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Torturing someone is the same as hiring me?”

  “I don’t know.” Her brow furrowed. “People on the dark channels like hurting people. She’s worse than they are. They say she doesn’t even go on them because of it.”

  “Hiring a courtesan isn’t interrogation.”

  “This is Teran Nivrai.”

  “Which means you think she would want that.” It wasn’t a question.

  “She never leaves Nivrai. She doesn’t talk to anyone. She just looks at you with those eyes.”

  A shudder wracked Liana’s body. “Those big, pale eyes. It’s like you aren’t even there. Even the people on the dark channels don’t like her very much, from what I hear.” She looked at Cailyn. “How can you stand it?”

  What could Cailyn say? She thought of Teran’s eyes on her, hard, hungry, unblinking.

  She remembered Lord Lerak’s visit to her father, all those years ago. The greed and hunger as his eyes drank in her father’s body, eager to possess it.

  She looked back at Liana, nestled in her sea of purple cushions. How could Cailyn answer those objections when she still had doubts of her own?

  Still, Liana was one of the people who had voted to assign that duty not to a professional, but to Teran Nivrai. To a minor noble with a reputation for cruelty. Like that was the same thing.

  “My lady,” Cailyn finally said, “why would you conscript someone to do that? Based on guesses about her personal life?”

  Lady Liana’s fingers twisted strands of her black hair. “I didn’t do it.”

  “You voted for it.”

  “Lord Keriel came up with the idea. I thought he made a good case for it. Yes, I voted for it. I figured that Nivrai would enjoy it. She’d get to do…what she does…and benefit society, for once. I thought she’d be grateful.”

  Cailyn pulled away. “Grateful? Grateful that you’d force her to torture someone?”

  Liana’s expression hardened. “Those rebels are terrorists.”

  “I understand, my lady. But this is—”

  “This is the safety of the council members, Derys. The safety of all the nobles. Me, Lord Keriel, Lady Nivrai. Any of the people you serve.” Liana reached for her. “And serve so well,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

  “You could’ve at least asked her,” Cailyn hissed. “Not just volunteered her.”

  Liana shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t think we’d have the guts to ask her anything.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The door slid open. Teran lounged on her bed, a glass of something—vakren?—in her hand. A piece of black clothing hung on the closet door.

  Cailyn peered at it. She’d never seen Teran’s walls anything but bare and immaculate.

  Even stranger, the garment was black. She had Cailyn wear the color all the time, but Cailyn had never seen Teran wear anything but Nivrai gray.

  It might do her some good to wear another color for a change. She’d look lovely in deep purple, Cailyn thought, imagining easing Teran into a long velvet dress.

  She peered at the black garment. Official council insignia, conspicuous and ugly, adorned the breast and sleeves. The uniform of an interrogator, Cailyn guessed. Her fantasies of dressing Teran faded as a lump formed in her throat.

  Did Teran plan to wear it? She’d said she would defy them. Now the uniform hung in plain sight on the closet door.

  “Welcome back, my little one,” Teran said, her lips twisting into a smile.

  “Thank you, my lady.” Cailyn inclined her head and sank to her knees in the fluid motion she’d practiced thousands of times before. She didn’t know how Teran would feel about her seeing someone else but wanted to serve as flawlessly as she could right now. Misgivings about the uniform or no.

  “You look like you enjoyed yourself.” Teran set her glass down and walked over to Cailyn. Steel snuck under the straps of Cailyn’s dress. “I’m no fan of that color.”

  The fabric sighed as Teran’s claws slit it. Cailyn’s mouth opened in a round O of angry surprise. Before she could protest, the dress fell to the floor in a tangle of bright fabric.

  An empty feeling spread through Cailyn’s stomach. She liked that little dress. She’d meant to wear it for her other clients. What did Lady Nivrai think she was doing?

  “Are you jealous, my lady?”

  A hand pushed her head down and brushed away her hair. She jerked as she felt teeth against her shoulder.

  “Jealous?” Teran whispered against her neck. “Why would I be jealous when all of this is mine?” She bit again. Cailyn jumped. “Why should I be jealous thinking of someone else touching your body,” a clawed hand clenched, digging into Cailyn’s skin, “of someone else using you.” Strong hands pushed Cailyn back down.

  The clawed hands traced their way across Cailyn’s body and cupped her breasts. “I’m the one you’re coming back to. Not them. This—”

  Teran’s fingers, clawless now, moved against Cailyn’s lips. Reacting by instinct alone, Cailyn opened her mouth to admit them. She felt herself fall away as they pushed into her mouth. Teran slid her fingers back out of her mouth, wiped them off on her chest, then moved them down Cailyn’s body.

  “And this,” she said. Her fingertips glided over Cailyn’s labia, slid down to the opening, and peeked in.

  Cailyn moaned as they began to move inside her, slamming hard enough to make her gasp. Then they withdrew.

  Teran grabbed at Cailyn’s bruised buttocks, squeezed and twisted until Cailyn cried out again.

  Teran stopped. Her hand traced Cailyn’s buttocks. One finger slid over the space between them but stopped just shy of the hole. “This too.”

  She reached into a drawer on the nightstand and drew out a glove. She slipped it onto a clawless hand and smeared her gloved fingers with lubricant. She brought one finger to the hole, massaged it, and smeared lubricant over it. Then she pushed her way in, quick and sharp.

  Cailyn gasped, feeling herself stretched wide by the probing fingers. Teran hissed her pleasure into Cailyn’s ear, driving the fingers hard into Cailyn’s body. She jumped and hissed as the fingers slammed into her.

  She keened, and the cry drove Teran on, Teran’s other hand clutching her hard as the fingers inside her clove her.

  The claws of Teran’s free hand bit into her chest. A current of pain sped through Cailyn’s body.

  “You like that, don’t you, my little one?” Teran whispered, her voice at Cailyn’s ear insistent and unavoidable. The fingers tore through her again. She opened her mo
uth to let loose another scream.

  In a quick, sudden motion, Teran’s free hand let go. She reached for the glass of vakren and upturned it. The bitter liquid spilled over Cailyn’s open skin. It burned where it fell, the wound all fire.

  Overloaded, Cailyn cried out. White light danced in front of her eyes.

  She slumped and spasmed with aftershock. Little thrills of pleasure lanced through her body. Her chest stung.

  She heard the sharp slap of rubber as Teran removed the glove.

  “So you do like pain, after all.” Teran smirked.

  Cailyn coughed and looked down at herself, at her naked flesh smeared with blood and vakren.

  She remembered Lady Liana’s shock at her bruises. And shook her head. She already had Teran’s marks all over her.

  “This is getting unsightly,” she said. “Are you going to pay for regenerations just so I heal faster?”

  Teran stepped out from behind her and leaned over to lick the scrape on Cailyn’s chest. “You don’t need them. You were famous already. Now you’re infamous because you’re with me. They’ll pay you for that alone.”

  Her bloody lips twisted into a grin. “I can see them now. Clucking at your marks telling you how concerned they are and paying for the privilege.”

  Teran had always been so mindful of her pleasure. Was it so hard to also be mindful of her work? “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “Is it?”

  “Even people on the dark channels won’t want to see your marks all over me.”

  “So you have been on the dark channels now.” A new smile crept over Teran’s lips. “I thought you might do that.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Didn’t you?” Sharp laughter filled the room as Teran moved toward Cailyn.

  Cailyn pushed her away. “You ruin my dresses. Question what I do with other people. Mark me until they won’t want me anyway. Is this not enough for you, my lady?” She pointed at the blue metal circling her throat. “If you wanted an exclusive contract, you could have asked for one.”

  “That dress?” Teran looked down at the wrinkled green fabric on the floor. “You can have seven more like it, if you want. All you have to do is ask.”

  Cailyn threw up her hands, forgetting decorum completely. “That isn’t the point.”

  “Everything I’ve done to you is within my rights.” Teran stared unblinking at Cailyn. “Beyond the rules Guild law obligates me to follow, you set no limit on how I use you. Haven’t you figured out that I like their scorn?”

  “That’s enough,” Cailyn growled. She rose to her feet and stepped closer to Teran, her stride wide and determined.

  “Do you think I’m here to endure anything you can dream up, no matter how degrading?” She jabbed a finger at Teran. “Are you going to hold me to the letter of Guild law now with no regard for how you actually treat me? Teran’s whore, is that it? Does that give you license to destroy my property? Mock my taste? Meddle in things that have nothing to do with you?”

  She didn’t wait for Teran to answer. She snatched the ruined green dress from the ground with one quick motion and swept off to the safety of her quarters.

  The door slid shut behind her. Safe now, she slumped against the wall. Her chest stung. Alone in her room, she had no salve to soothe it. She could call the servants, but she had just shouted at their mistress. Would they bother tending to her when she and Teran had just fought?

  Teran called her name again and again, her voice harsh at first and then uncertain. She sank to the floor and didn’t answer.

  The door slid open, betraying her.

  Of course it would. These quarters were Teran’s after all.

  “My little one,” Teran said. “You have so little faith in me.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  Cailyn’s head snapped up. She stared at Teran. But Teran, for her part, only looked down at the floor.

  “I—” Cailyn began, unsure whether the words caught in her throat were words of reproach or comfort.

  “Little one,” Teran interrupted. She reached out her hand. “At least get up.”

  Cailyn let Teran take her hand and guide her to her feet.

  “You can do what you want with me,” she said. “Guild law permits it. But if you do something like that again, I leave.”

  Teran shook her head. For a long moment, she stood silent. Then she spoke.

  “Very well. I will not interfere in your business outside these walls again.”

  Cailyn nodded. It was a start.

  Teran took Cailyn’s chin in her hand. Cailyn willed herself not to flinch.

  “But understand something, little one. You are mine for as long as you wear that collar. I intend to use you as I will. That has not changed. That will not change.”

  Teran stared hard at Cailyn. “No matter what else you do on your own time. I will mark you or not mark you as I see fit.”

  Cailyn looked down at the blood and vakren spattered on her chest. Lady Liana had already seen her bruised. The damage was already done.

  And Teran’s infamy might be good for business, even if the marks weren’t.

  “Telling me how concerned they are and paying for the privilege?” She allowed herself a small laugh.

  Silver laughter answered her. “If they don’t, I’ll pay you another five hundred.”

  Cailyn stepped toward Teran, her movements wobbly from endorphins and the excitement of arguing. Teran put out her hand.

  “I am here to serve, my lady,” Cailyn said. Strong, lean arms steadied her.

  *

  “Go ahead and ask me, little one.” Teran twined a clawed hand in Cailyn’s curls. “You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes.”

  Teran’s glass of vakren was full again. She’d given a sip to Cailyn, passed directly from her own mouth to Cailyn’s. She’d laughed, delighted, as Cailyn swallowed the bitter drink without making a face.

  “The Councils had it sent to you?”

  “Yes. It came this morning, while you were out.” She frowned. “Lord Ben Keriel himself delivered it.”

  Lord Ben Keriel. The father of Teran’s child.

  Cailyn slid her fingers over Teran’s stomach. What had she looked like, her belly big with child? She tried to imagine it, the sharp eyes, close-cut hair, strong shoulders, and small breasts over a heavy stomach.

  Cailyn hadn’t menstruated in years. Even thinking of her own body that way was strange. What would it be like to grow a child?

  Teran knew. Cailyn didn’t. Teran, who hadn’t wanted to carry a child in the first place. And yet she had. The child of someone she despised had grown in her body. How had those long months felt?

  Who was her child? What did he look like? How did he act? How did Lord Keriel feel, father of a child with someone who preferred to hide herself on a distant planet? She’d chosen the attentions of her lover over being a mother to her son.

  Teran’s voice, sharp and bitter, drew Cailyn out of her reverie.

  “Yes, Lord Keriel himself, taking time off from his important duties to the High Council to bring me the uniform he wants me to wear to torture someone.”

  “Why him, my lady?” Cailyn asked. Teran’s claws dug idly into her skin.

  “What better way for him to remind me of his authority?” Teran slipped out of Cailyn’s arms, walked over to the closet, and ran her fingers along the smooth fabric.

  Cailyn’s brow furrowed. “He wants you to do this, everyone says. But you said he hated even the things you did with Mariel.”

  “Of course he did.” Teran turned. “My lord Keriel would like nothing better than for me to see the error of my ways. Marry him. Mother our son.”

  “Marry him? He wanted you to marry him?”

  Teran’s fingers moved over the fabric of the garment again. Cailyn frowned, feeling queasy. If she meant to defy the Councils, how could she touch their uniform like some kind of prized possession?

  “He didn’t want an heir. Not really. He want
ed me.”

  “Wanted you?”

  “The deal was useful to him, a way to bargain with my parents.” Teran shook her head. “It was useful to me for the same reason. Neither of us wanted the child.”

  Cailyn felt her throat tighten. Was Teran telling the truth?

  Teran slid into the bodysuit. The black fabric clung to her muscular frame. The yellow council insignia shone bright and forbidding over her breast and over the muscles of her upper arms.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, extended her claws, and stared ahead. “So, my little one, what do you think?”

  A chill went through Cailyn. Teran Nivrai, official torturer.

  The wisp of heat in her flesh shamed her. A blush spread across her face.

  The embarrassment quickly hardened into anger. Teran had said she didn’t want to take this job, but here she was trying on the bodysuit like some kind of sexual toy.

  Cailyn thought of her own moisture on the steel-tipped fingers and shuddered. “My lady? I thought you said you weren’t going to do it.”

  The smiling mouth hardened. “I don’t intend to.”

  “Then why are you wearing that getup like it’s funny? What are you playing at, Teran Nivrai?”

  The pale eyes bored into hers. Their gazes caught and held her. She clenched her fists and fought not to blink.

  “Is that what’s bothering you, my little one? Well then, let me prove it to you.”

  The steel tipping her hands flashed. Cailyn saw skin peek through black as the patch displaying the councils’ symbol tore and fluttered to the ground. The patch over her breast followed, falling facedown to the floor.

  A smile spread across Teran’s face. “Better now, my little one?”

  Cailyn didn’t answer.

  “Or how about now?” Teran said. The hole in the fabric over her chest widened, her breasts peeking out through the hole.

  Cailyn tore her eyes away. The lust rising in her body wasn’t right.

  Teran knotted her hand in Cailyn’s hair and pulled. “I’ve shown you what you want to see.”

  Strong hands twisted Cailyn’s head around, forcing her to look. Cailyn grunted. Tears pricked her eyes. Her scalp stung.