by Alexa Black
Her lips cracked into a smile. Teran’s head leaned down to meet her lips. She opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and sank into the black.
Chapter Thirty-eight
“My lord.”
Cailyn fidgeted. Everyone got nervous, but a courtesan was trained to hide the worst of it. Yet here she was, her hand skittering like she hadn’t been in the academy a day. She quickly clapped a calmer hand over her rebellious one. “I have something to ask you.”
His shirt lay half-undone, showing her a hint of the dark flesh beneath. Her mouth watered to see it. She wanted to lick, kiss, bite. To end this with him spearing her.
She looked around the room. Light filtered through lace curtains, burnishing the soft velvet of the couch she sat on. Sex and laughter would be so much better than this confrontation.
Lord Darien had mastered both. But she wasn’t here for that.
“What is it?” His smile wrinkled into a frown.
“It’s Teran.” Her hands stirred in her lap again. “It’s this whole thing. This assignment. This—” She waved her hands, helpless. “Torture.”
“She’s angry as hell at the Councils. She has good reason to be.” He smiled as he shook his head. “We’re lucky she isn’t a helldemon after all. We’d all be picking pins out of our ribs by now.”
Cailyn stood up. It would be easy to lose herself in the soft sofa. She couldn’t let herself do that. “How can you joke about it?”
“I’m not joking about it. What they did was terrible.”
He chewed his lip. “What we did. I shouldn’t pretend I’m not one of them.”
“What you did.”
“The others thought it was a great idea. The nobility takes its revenge. Without middlemen.”
His hand went to his forehead. “Gods. They thought it was poetic.”
“They thought she’d like it.” Cailyn shifted in her seat. The fabric of her clothing scratched against last night’s welts.
To be naked, her torn flesh pressed against soft upholstery, would be so much nicer than this. To feel him above her—
Her lips opened in a half-sigh. She snapped them closed.
“I tried to talk them out of it,” he said. “We’ve got people trained for that sort of thing.”
“I know.”
“Hell, I’d try to talk them out of that, too, if I thought I could manage it. I even told them I’m on the dark channels myself.”
Cailyn’s hand flew to her mouth. “You told them that, my lord?”
He nodded. “I told them. Right in the middle of a Council meeting.”
“And?”
“They think she’s different. They think the rules of the dark channels don’t apply to her.” He turned to look at her. “They think she’s their monster, Cailyn.”
Cailyn lifted her head. “Tell me what they told her.”
He sighed. “You were there, Cailyn. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Nothing to tell?”
“They gave her a duty. She accepted it.”
“No.”
“That’s all.”
“It isn’t. It can’t be.”
Damn it. She’d blurted enough out already. Now she’d have to say it.
“She planned to defy you. She told me. She promised me.”
He sank into the sofa and winced. “She lied to you, Cailyn.”
“No.” She stared at his indolent, open shirt. Her palm itched to slap his face. “She was telling the truth. Something happened. Something else.”
“Cailyn, I—”
“Tell me what it was.”
He sighed again. “Nothing else happened.”
She opened her mouth to protest. Before she could speak, he corrected himself. “At least nothing I saw.”
“Nothing you saw?”
“If something else happened, I can’t tell you what it was.”
“I have to know, my lord.”
He looked down for a long moment, then up at her again. “But I can tell you that we…talked, in the Council meetings. About how to convince her.”
Cailyn swallowed hard. “What kind of talk?”
“They said she’d do it anyway. Said she’d appreciate it. Said she’d see it as a gift after all the shunning and ridicule.”
“She wouldn’t. She didn’t.”
“I know. So did some others.”
“Who?”
“Lord Keriel, for one.”
“Lord Keriel?”
“He thought she’d need convincing. He had an idea. He thought that they—that we—should find something she wanted. Something she valued. Tempt her with that.”
Cailyn’s heart sank into her feet.
“What was it?” she asked, her voice cracking.
He shrugged. “Nobody knew.”
“Nobody—”
“Teran Nivrai lives on a rock in the middle of nowhere. If you believe the rumors, she turned herself into a demon. What would she want enough to bother with us?”
“What indeed?” Cailyn echoed.
“No one could think of anything.” He wiped a sweating brow. “I was relieved.”
Cailyn’s hands clenched. Could she believe him? “They left it at that, then?”
“They left it at that.” He squinted at her. “You think the Councils bribed her. Teran Nivrai. The last person in the galaxy to give a damn about bribes. Or about us.”
“I know they did.” Cailyn face hardened. “I know what they promised her.”
“Then you know more than I do, Cailyn Derys.”
Could she believe him?
It would be easy. Convenient. She could let this go. She ran a finger over the fabric of the sofa, savored its texture.
Why believe Lord Darien was lying when she could believe Ben Keriel was lying instead?
“Maybe I do, my lord.”
She hurried to the door. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know.”
Lord Darien rushed after her. He grabbed at her shoulder as the door slid open.
“Wait.”
Cailyn turned.
“What the hell do you mean, Derys? What could they possibly promise her? She never sets foot outside that little hellhole if she can help it.”
“Me.”
Cailyn twisted out of his grip and stepped through the door.
*
Teran sat cross-legged on the floor. She held something in her hands. Cailyn stepped closer, saw the stone globes from Teran’s gym.
It seemed a lifetime ago, now.
She’d hesitated. Teran’s hands had pressed down, hard, forcing her palms against the stone. A jolt of pain had shivered through her. She’d fallen back into Teran’s arms. Teran’s lips and teeth had soothed it all away.
Cailyn tapped the place where Teran had bitten her. Her neck had been bare then. She’d arched her head back to meet Teran’s mouth.
Now metal circled it, warm against her skin.
She looked over at Teran. The globes crackled with energy. Teran shuddered. Her lips twitched as the shock went through her. Her expression twisted into a rictus of pain. She gasped, hissed, bared her teeth.
Cailyn winced. She tapped Teran on the shoulder.
Teran turned and glared at her. “What do you want?”
Cailyn gestured toward the globes. “What are you doing, my lady?
“I’m leaving to torture someone. Until he breaks.” Her body twitched with another jolt. “It’s only fitting I do this first.”
“More pain won’t help.”
“Maybe not.” Teran laid the spheres on a small table. “But it will clear my head.”
Cailyn touched the tight shoulders, still tense from the shocks. “I could help you with that.”
“I’m tempted. But not now.” Teran pushed her hands away. “I’ll need your services more afterward.” A steel-tipped finger skirted along Cailyn’s cheek and chin.
Afterward. Cailyn’s stomach sank, a hard, despairing rock beneath her flesh. She didn’t want to think about what wo
uld happen when Teran came back. Didn’t want to think of steel-tipped hands touching her after defiling someone else.
She remembered that first time. Teran’s numb, dead shock and wide, sightless eyes. She’d drawn a bath, then led Teran in. Her hands gave pleasure and solace, soothed as they caressed.
That was what she’d always wanted.
She was Teran’s creature now. She would be until their contract ended.
No refusals remained but one, the one she’d never used. The stop word she’d almost forgotten she had.
She wouldn’t use it now. She promised herself that, tried not to remember how many vows she’d broken.
She forced herself to look at Teran. “Of course, my lady.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
Cailyn stared into the computer’s display. Faces spun, grew larger, then retreated again. The long dance soothed Cailyn. She recognized many of the faces. She’d served more than a few. They smiled the glittery smiles of those who ran the world.
Could she call one of them now? Serve as she had so often before? Let her fingers dance along their skin? Open her flesh to their members and fingers?
She had hours to do it, if she wanted. Spur of the moment meetings had their charm. It took skill to craft an experience with almost no preparation.
Teran prepared things so carefully. Was it so surprising that she’d planned it all from the beginning? Teran had eased her so carefully into pain. Changed her.
Marked her, no matter how many regenerations she had. She wrapped her hands around her shoulders and felt her back. Her probing fingers found the ragged parts torn by whip and steel. They found old marks too, submerged and made invisible by rejuvenated skin.
However healed her flesh, they would be with her forever. She tapped the screen and watched it darken.
How did Teran feel now? She’d talked to her son after years of never seeing him. After not wanting him.
But once she’d carried him and bore him and given him up, had she missed him at all?
Mariel had liked her pregnancy. Had she really remained indifferent? Had she ignored new life, kicking and stretching inside her? Had she wanted the child in spite of herself?
She wanted her son’s trust, at least. When he shied away from taking the candies, Teran had extended her claws, cut one in half, and eaten it in front of him.
She could have just broken it. Instead, she’d let the boy see her. Just like she’d let Cailyn see her. Perhaps ties of blood mattered to Teran after all.
She’d neglected Dion. Admitted it, even. To his face. But she hadn’t seen him since.
Maybe the helldemon had done nothing but discharge a debt.
Cailyn wrapped her hands tighter around herself and massaged away a chill.
What about this assignment? It was a debt too. To the Councils. A task to be completed. Then Teran would go on with her life.
Without Cailyn. Before meeting Cailyn, she’d spent months alone. Waited until the urge seized her. Chosen someone. Used and discarded him. Done the whole thing again.
Would she go back to that once Cailyn was gone?
She’d been looking for a break in the monotony. Cailyn had given her that. Was that it? Was that all?
Teran had told her about Mariel. The words bled out of her just like the cuts in Cailyn’s skin. She’d carried those words for a long time. And Cailyn had drawn them out with lips and tongue and hands.
And yet Teran had left today to break someone.
Would he scream from the beginning, or only when he broke?
Or would he break quietly, the din of his body dimming to silent, choked sobs?
Would Teran’s claws dig into him? Or were they reserved for lovers? For Mariel, for courtesans she hired, for Cailyn?
If she did use them, what words would she draw out with his blood? True ones? Or only lies?
Teran would bring them back like trophies. It would be enough. It would have to be.
Cailyn tried to picture the boy. She imagined a young man, handsome, all hard jaw and bright wet eyes. And the raggedness of captivity: wild-growing hair, scraggly beard, sweat and dirt.
She pictured his mouth, open obscenely wide, the bright pink flesh of his cheeks and palate and the hoarseness in his throat as he screamed.
Would she trick him, crisp silk in her movements and voice, and coax him between agonies? Or did she save that gentleness for lovers?
Cailyn’s back twinged. She rubbed it against the back of her chair for the sting.
She wanted it. Wanted more.
Even now.
She wanted Teran with her. She wanted steel tracing slow along her skin. She wanted the rich voice to soothe her, to tell her that it was all over.
She wanted desire clouding reason.
Pain forcing it out of her head completely.
She pressed her fingers to the smooth desk in front of her. Faces danced in it again. Lord Keriel’s swirled by.
She tapped the screen.
The image of him looked away at first.
“Dion!” he called, his brows knotted.
He turned to the screen, and his expression changed. He smiled, relaxed and open. “Derys. Always nice to hear from you.”
Cailyn didn’t want to hear it. “The deal. The one the Councils made with Teran. I want proof.”
“I thought you might.” He held up a thin tablet. “Come see me and I’ll give it to you.”
Cailyn swallowed hard. He’d toyed with a tablet the last time she saw him. He hadn’t shown it to her; she hadn’t pried. Had he been holding Teran’s confession in his hands the whole time they’d talked?
If he had, why hadn’t he shown her then? She never would have doubted him if—
She pressed her lips together to keep her thoughts from slipping out. “Yes, my lord. Thank you. I will come for it after my lady returns.”
“Not now? She’ll want you when she gets back.”
“She will.” Cailyn closed her eyes. “I’ve made my peace with that.”
“Have you?”
“I have.”
“Then I’ll see you tonight.”
She smiled, her face composed as she’d been taught. For the first time in weeks, she felt proud. “Very well, my lord.”
She tapped the console. His image winked out of sight and she let herself sigh.
*
The door slid open.
If this really would be her last day, she would behave as perfectly as possible. She would take refuge in her training, just as she had in the beginning.
There would be time later for her misgivings. For now, her only purpose was to serve.
She walked through the doorway and knelt, quiet as falling snow.
Teran swept past Cailyn without seeing. She stared ahead, unblinking, and stopped in the middle of the room. Her lip twitched. With a loud metallic sound, the claws extended.
Cailyn bit her lip. Teran stared past her and crossed her hands.
Cailyn waited for the sting, but the claws never cut her. Instead, they tore through Teran’s bodysuit with such speed and violence Cailyn hoped Teran hadn’t cut herself as well.
Teran threw aside the tattered scraps of fabric. She didn’t watch it fall. The claws ripped at her clothes again and again. Jagged black scraps of cloth littered the floor.
Cailyn saw scrapes on Teran’s skin. Some bled, red trails flowing from the cuts.
Cailyn rushed to Teran’s side.
“My lady—you’ll hurt—you’ll do yourself harm.” She grabbed at Teran’s arms, trying to pull them down.
But the best gladiator in Nivrai had taught Teran to fight. Practicing forms and wielding whips kept her body strong. Her arms didn’t budge.
Damn. How could Cailyn stop her if Teran didn’t even know she was there?
She could move the steel-tipped hands to her own flesh. Maybe the offering would ease Teran into gentler pain.
But what if it didn’t work?
The newsteel would tear Cailyn’s skin
like paper. Without Teran’s will to hold it back, Cailyn shuddered to think what it could do to the meat beneath. It was a wonder Teran had only bloodied herself.
But maybe this would become sex if Cailyn offered herself. Maybe this strange mood of Teran’s only meant descending to another level of pain. Maybe all Cailyn had to do was steel herself for it.
She looked at Teran’s eyes. They stared ahead, cold gray stones.
Cailyn blinked.
No.
“Please,” she said.
Teran snarled. She cast aside the last of the fabric and pushed Cailyn away. Cailyn fell to the floor in a graceless, twisted heap.
“There is only one thing I want you for,” Teran said. She walked over to a shelf behind her, took down her harness and dildo, and slipped them on.
Cailyn swallowed hard. This hissing, bleeding thing was not the woman she knew.
“Here,” the thing with Teran’s face said.
She didn’t move.
A clawed hand pointed to the bed.
“Now.”
Steel tore at Cailyn’s dress. It fell in tatters of cloud around her feet.
The claws didn’t cut her. She wasn’t reassured.
She bent over the bed, not looking back at the strange thing in Teran’s skin. She’d said she would serve until the end.
A hand pressed her head into the bed sheets. Long fingers trapped it in a sharp steel cage. Behind her, the dildo pressed against her flesh. Too cold. Too thick.
Was this it? After everything Teran had done to her? Every seduction that had changed her? Was this the end of the experiment? This cold coupling with a woman so distant she might never remember it happened at all?
Cailyn writhed under the alien grip, trying to twist away. This was no awakening, no play on long-primed nerves.
This was violence, cold and ugly.
“At least give me pain,” Cailyn rasped. Maybe if she begged, Teran would remember.
Maybe it would reawaken the seduction, the slow planning, the clever mind that eased her partner into craving what she gave.
Cailyn needed that slow descent now. Without it, she couldn’t endure this cold-eyed thing in Teran’s skin.