Unbinding

by Eileen Wilks

  He had two young people with him, one male, one female. And Dell.

  The blond—she was quite young, a teen, he thought—wore a bikini top and shorts. She sat on the ground at Dyffaya’s feet, leaning against his denim-clad leg. The young man was Asian and bore a startling resemblance to Lily Yu, one that went beyond simple ethnicity. Aside from the sexual differences, he was built much like Lily, and was probably a similar height. Same face shape. The young man’s nose was subtly different, his eyes more deeply set, but his mouth was much like Lily’s. He sat in Dyffaya’s lap.

  But it was Dell the god stroked with his free hand, not the young man snuggled up to him. The chameleon sat beside the recliner, haughty as ever, her eyes heavy-lidded. Dyffaya smiled at Nathan, showing teeth. “You arrive at a good time. We’re all set up for the big game.”

  “Trying out some of the local customs, are you?” Nathan asked, stalling for time. What was Dell up to? Was she beguiled?

  “My new people are very fond of games. It’s a passion I share, although I admit I find football baffling.” He tossed the picked-clean bones from his snack on the ground . . . where they slowly sank, as if the sand were consuming them. “It’s a gladiatorial sport, and yet the rules seem designed to keep the players from injuring each other. Odd. Perhaps you’ll explain the game to me later.” He smiled and stroked Dell’s head. “I wonder why I never thought of having a pet before?”

  Nathan waited for Dell to rip his throat out. When she didn’t, he had to conclude she was heavily beguiled. “Perhaps because few would be as long-lived as a chameleon.”

  “True. Allow me to introduce you to Penny and Liu.”

  “My pleasure,” Nathan said politely. “Liu, you bear a strong resemblance to an acquaintance of mine. Lily Yu. Even your names are similar. Any relation?”

  Dyffaya chuckled. “That would be telling. I’ll admit, however, that I rechristened Liu, who was given a less interesting name at birth.” He stroked the young man’s thigh. “I fear I’m easily amused at times. Ah, here come your compatriots.”

  Cullen clambered up over the edge, his breathing audible. He looked like a walking scarecrow. Benedict was right behind him. He looked more like granite—impassive and unyielding.

  Dyffaya greeted them affably and introduced Penny and Liu—“here to enjoy the game with us. There will be more guests, but they haven’t received their invitations yet.”

  Nathan spoke before the other two could respond. “Dell, I don’t see your harem.”

  The chameleon yawned.

  Dyffaya chuckled. “I haven’t decided if she’s more afraid I’ll take them from her, or that they might be competition for my attention. Quite jealous of my attention, she is. Chased them off.” Dyffaya smiled slyly. “You seemed surprised that your pet and I get on so well now.”

  “Nonsentients are relatively easy to beguile, I’m told.”

  “Familiars aren’t, however.” There was an edge to Dyffaya’s voice. “Do come over and have a seat. We have plenty of wings. Liu, be a good boy and get them, will you?” The young man sighed, but did as he’d been told, sliding off Dyffaya’s lap and moving to the other side of the recliner. He bent and picked up a large platter piled high with chicken wings. “They’re quite tasty. Oh, I nearly forgot.” Abruptly a cooler appeared next to one of the green recliners, complete with ice and dark brown bottles. “Beer is traditional, I understand.”

  “Thank you,” Nathan said, glancing at Benedict and Cullen to remind them of the need for an outward show of courtesy. “Is any of it poisoned?”

  “I did admit to being easily amused, didn’t I? I’m not quite that easy, however. And I have something in mind that poison would interfere with.” Dyffaya’s voice hardened. “Come sit down.”

  “Thank you.” Cullen offered a small bow, exquisitely polite. “I’m starved. I mean that literally, of course.”

  Something flashed across Dyffaya’s face, some emotion too fleeting for Nathan to interpret. “Ah, yes. I hadn’t wanted to comment, but you don’t look at all well.”

  “Something I didn’t eat didn’t agree with me, I fear.”

  That amused Dyffaya. He and Cullen continued to exchange barbs cloaked as courtesies while Nathan, Cullen, and Benedict headed for the recliners as instructed. Nathan held himself ready to intervene should Cullen slip from amusing to offensive, but Cullen might have been an experienced elfin courtier—graceful, deferent in every word and gesture, with just enough of an edge for wit. Cullen was, in fact, better at this sort of thing than he was.

  Once they were all sitting down, Benedict passed them each a bottle of what the label claimed was Bud. Perhaps it was. If the god could import people, a couple of six packs shouldn’t be beyond him. When Nathan twisted off the cap the smell was right. Liu approached with the platter of wings. “They smell delicious,” Nathan said, wanting to remind the others to sniff before biting.

  It was true, though. Fritos, salsa, beer, barbequed chicken wings—everything smelled good. Just the way it should.

  “So,” Cullen said, taking two wings from the platter Liu held out, “what do you think of those Chargers?”

  * * *

  THE main lifeguard tower was well up the beach from the place where a glass serpent had chewed into people. Kai had time to finish both tacos while they walked, but not enough time for the ibuprofen to kick in. The sun felt hot on her poor, aching head. The rest of her was hot, too. “Why did they take these, uh, persons of interest to this lifeguard tower?”

  “To get them away from the crowd.” Ackleford’s tone made it clear he considered that obvious.

  She supposed it was. The police couldn’t know what part their persons of interest had played in raising glass from the sand. Maybe they’d do it again, or something just as bad. “Is that it?” Dead ahead was a two-story stucco building with a small third story perched on top like an undersize cap. It didn’t look like a lifeguard tower to her, but it had a red cross on top. “I hope it’s air conditioned.”

  Ackleford snorted. “If you’re hot, take off the damn vest.”

  “Not a good idea.” Though she really wished she dared unseal it. Kai rubbed her neck with one hand.

  “I give a pretty decent neck rub,” José offered.

  “No, I . . . no, thanks.” Nathan gave the best neck rubs. So many times when she’d been tired and sore for whatever reason, he’d sat behind her and used his big, magical hands to take away the pain and tension. She did not want anyone else’s hands on her. She . . . oh, shit, her eyes were filling.

  “I cry, you know,” Arjenie said matter-of-factly.

  “What?”

  “When I hurt, I cry. I used to try so hard to hold it back. I wanted to be strong and stoic—and to have people see me that way. That was part of it, because people react to crying. It took me forever to figure out that the two don’t always go together. I am strong. I’m just not stoic.”

  Kai’s eyes were still brimming. Her head still hurt and she was still hot. But she was smiling. She reached out and squeezed Arjenie’s hand. “Arjenie, I think I love you.”

  Arjenie looked pleased and a little flustered. “Did you know that women cry roughly four times as much as men? People think that’s because of social conditioning, but it may also be due to how much prolactin the female body produces and its effect on the endocrine system.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Also, their tear ducts are smaller than ours.”

  She was not going to laugh. Arjenie might not understand. But she was grinning as they drew near the lifeguard tower.

  * * *

  DYFFAYA had apparently been serious about learning more about football. While they ate, he asked questions. A lot of questions. Nathan made his answers as detailed as possible, wanting to draw this out since he doubted he’d like whatever came next. Cullen and Benedict seemed to share that goal,
both of them contributing to the discussion, but Cullen’s knowledge of the game was limited. Fortunately, Benedict could have discussed strategy as it related to football all day.

  Eventually, however, Dyffaya tired of the subject. “Enough!” he said, interrupting Benedict. “I am as stuffed with first downs and passing attacks as you are with wings.” He snapped his fingers and the empty platter disappeared while the salsa bowls and chip bags refilled themselves. “I’d like to introduce my own game. There’s a bit more at stake with it than with football.”

  Once again a giant display sprung into being. It hung in the air ten feet off the ground between the red recliner and the three green ones. What they saw, though, was odd. Blurry, and the colors were wrong—everything was gray, green, or yellow. They were looking at some kind of broad walkway, currently empty of people, but from almost ground level . . .

  “The boardwalk,” Cullen murmured. “As seen from a dog’s eyes, I think?”

  “Very good, Cullen. Liu, Penny, it’s time you made our guests comfortable,” Dyffaya said. The young man reluctantly climbed out of Dyffaya’s lap. Penny stood up. Each of them held out an arm—and each arm was suddenly draped with a steaming towel.

  Uh-oh. Nathan spoke quickly. “Benedict, Cullen, I need to explain another aspect of courtesy among the sidhe. Dyffaya is sending Penny and Liu to us as body servants. It would be rude to refuse them, but we can specify which services we wish without giving offense.”

  Dyffaya smiled sweetly. “You worry needlessly, Nathan. Liu will serve you, since you can have no cultural bias about a male attendant. Penny will serve both the lupi. I don’t know if they partake of the monosexuality so rampant in the human culture of their world, so we will err on the side of caution. I wouldn’t want to make them uncomfortable.”

  Cullen smiled. “Benedict, did I ever tell you that elves consider monosexuality perverse?”

  “I don’t believe you did.”

  “By monosexual, our host means anyone who limits himself to a single sex. Same sex or opposite sex, it doesn’t matter—if you aren’t bi, you’re a bit of a freak.”

  “Now, now, I wouldn’t dream of calling monosexuals freaks,” Dyffaya assured them. “Odd, surely, but not freaks.”

  Penny stopped in front of Cullen and smiled at him. “May I clean your hands?”

  Liu reached Nathan. He was smiling, too. “Allow me to clean your hands, sir.”

  All that smiling was beginning to get to Nathan. What was Dyffaya up to? He was behaving as a host, which ought to mean that they could refuse any service they didn’t want. Politely, of course. “That would be pleasant. Thank you.”

  Liu knelt in front of Nathan and took his left hand first, wiping it carefully. The towel was hot, but not enough to injure. Good. Someone beguiled as heavily as these two were might not be aware of pain. He’d worried that Liu and Penny could be burned and not notice.

  Dell looked from Dyffaya to Benedict to Nathan, then lay down on her stomach, looking bored and sleepy.

  Cullen spoke gently to Penny, giving permission for her to clean his hands. He added in a different voice, “Elves are not as monolithic on the subject of monogamy as they are about monosexuality, but it’s a rarity with them. Still, they do understand vows.”

  Dyffaya’s eyebrows lifted. “You aren’t referring to marriage, surely, as it is practiced on Earth? Even if you took such vows seriously—and the majority of humans don’t seem to—your people don’t marry.”

  At the edge of the display a black object edged into sight. It was badly blurred, but the location and general shape told Nathan he was looking at a man’s shoe. It moved slowly. Very slowly.

  Cullen held up his left hand, the one with a ring. “I’m such a rule-breaker.”

  “Do you wish to avoid intercourse? Don’t worry. Penny’s no artiste, but fellatio is pleasant even without that level of expertise. I assure you her skills go well with the beer and Fritos.”

  “There’s a reason they call it oral sex,” Cullen said. “That would be because it’s sex. I’ve made vows. I won’t break them.”

  Dyffaya sighed. “You aren’t much fun, sorcerer. Penny, you have another guest to attend.”

  Penny heaved a disappointed sigh and stood, crossing in front of Nathan on her way to Benedict. On the display, the foot was fully in view, along with part of a leg.

  Liu laid the towel down. He was still smiling as he reached for the snap on Nathan’s jeans.” No,” Nathan said, stopping his hand. “I don’t want that service from you. Dyffaya, we seem to be out of sync, time-wise, with Earth. That will make for a very slow game.”

  “It’s a dramatic device, to build tension. Are you experiencing tension?”

  “I can help with that,” Liu said softly. His tongue darted out, licking his upper lip. He reached out with his other hand. Nathan caught it, too. “Please. I want to. Please let me.”

  “No,” Benedict said. Nathan looked at him. Penny had apparently forgotten about the hand-washing and gone straight for Benedict’s zipper. He pushed her hands away. “I don’t want that.”

  “Don’t be shy,” Dyffaya said.

  Benedict held both of Penny’s hands in one of his. She squirmed, trying to get free. He looked at Nathan. “Do elves not consider rape discourteous?”

  “Raping a guest would be wrong. Raping your host would be, too.”

  “Rape, rape, rape,” Dyffaya said testily. “Why do you talk about rape? Penny and Liu will enjoy it every bit as much as you. Possibly more.”

  Benedict looked at the god. “They have no choice but to enjoy it. You’ve taken choice away from them. If I allow Penny to do what she wants, I’ll be raping her.”

  “What if I said her life depended on sucking you off? Would you still refuse?”

  “I notice,” Nathan said, “that you framed that as a question, not as a statement of fact.” He couldn’t figure out what Dyffaya was up to. Surely he wasn’t simply trying to force them to have sex with the poor people he’d beguiled. That would be cruel and demeaning, both of which Dyffaya might enjoy, but it was crude. Obvious. The former god of revenge—any god of the sidhe—should be planning something complex that would, in the end, lead them to destroy themselves.

  So far, though, nothing he’d done was subtle, was it? He’d apologized for that when he tortured Nathan. He’d spoken of himself as easily amused.

  Was he testing them? Dyffaya didn’t know much about lupi. Maybe he wanted to learn more about where their buttons were.

  “Please,” Liu whispered, staring at Nathan’s crotch, his expression avid. Aroused. “I want to so much.”

  “That’s José,” Benedict said abruptly. “Those shoes. They’re José’s.”

  “Is José one of the men who’ve been, ah, escorting your lady and Nathan’s while you’re away?” Dyffaya’s delicate emphasis turned “escort” into a synonym for “fuck.” “If so, you may be right.”

  The shoe was so blurry Nathan didn’t see how Benedict could have identified it, but if Benedict said it was José’s, it probably was.

  “In a few moments,” Dyffaya said, “two of you will be able to see your ladies. I apologize, Cullen, that you won’t have that pleasure, but your lady didn’t accompany the other two. I thought you might enjoy looking at them while you climaxed, but if not . . .” He shrugged. Liu went still, then he and Penny both stood and headed back to Dyffaya. “No, my dears, sit at my feet now, both of you. That’s good. And now,” he said, his voice like the crack of a whip, “we will proceed to the next part of the game.”

  Abruptly the display changed. No longer were they looking through a dog’s eyes. This view was sharp and clear, the colors normal . . . and the crosshairs were back.

  This time, they were centered on Arjenie’s forehead.

  They moved, trailing away from Arjenie—who was walking, Nathan realized. Walking at a norma
l speed. Time here must have popped back in sync with Earth.

  The crosshairs settled on another forehead. Kai’s.

  “Now,” Dyffaya said in a silky voice, “let’s talk about what I want from the two of you.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  KAI stopped suddenly. Dell was trying to reach her.

  “What is it?” Arjenie asked.

  She waved for silence and dropped into the lightest stage of trance, focusing on the tie to her familiar . . . “Down!” she shouted. And dropped.

  * * *

  NATHAN watched Kai drop out of sight. By the time the shooter reacted, trying to follow her down, the lupi had closed in around her—five men and one wolf, blocking the line-of-fire.

  Dyffaya clucked his tongue. “How annoying. I assure you, however, the safety of your ladies is entirely temporary. Benedict, I know your lady has sidhe blood, but I’m not sure what abilities that has given her. What, exactly, is her Gift?”

  Benedict growled. It was a genuine growl, rumbling deep in the big man’s chest.

  Nathan’s heart pounded. His mouth was dry. But fear could be managed. Harder to control was the rage building deep inside, the need for Dyffaya’s blood . . . especially since the god didn’t have blood. None of that showed in his voice. That much control he did have. “I don’t think Benedict is able to respond. He may be too much wolf at the moment for speech. Why do you ask?”

  “I wondered if she might be a precog. It’s not an uncommon Gift for one with a bit of sidhe blood.”

  “You may assume that to be true.”

  “Or I may assume that she or someone else saw the weapon. Or that someone with them has a trace of precognition. I might assume any number of things, but for now, I won’t. Instead, let me show you why your ladies’ safety is so precarious.”