Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ORION
Just before the machete sliced off Basil’s right shoulder, the air rippled like the surface of a pond in a rainstorm. Paul yelped, flung off to the left by an invisible force, smacking the side of his head on the window. The glass cracked, the blood magi landing on the seats with a loud crash.
Wow. That must have hurt.
Paul, bleeding profusely from his left temple, did not move.
“Stars…”
Basil’s elemental watch sat on his right wrist. Although out of order, the same rules still applied. Only King Damien could remove it, therefore protecting his right arm from being severed.
Thank goodness Paul hadn’t gone for his left.
“This is our chance,” Basil said, twisting his body.
As much as he struggled, pushing through the searing pain of the iron, he failed to make headway. We were stuck without a key to the shackles or a friendly magi.
My poor Wendy. Just like that, after so much time together, she was gone. Defeat leeching on my strength.
“These can’t be infallible!” Basil fumed.
But they were, especially against fae.
Wendy.
Wendy.
Miko.
“Paul?” Sharon’s voice came from behind me. “What have you done now?” She sighed. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” After stomping over to the twisted body, checking him over, she confirmed he was no longer with us.
Oh, what a shame.
“Your blood won’t go to waste, you idiot,” she told him.
Yuck.
Sharon positioned herself between us. “What happened?”
“Your friend here decided to chop my arm off,” Basil responded rather smugly. “As you can see, he failed.”
A puzzled Sharon poked his right arm. “Why?”
“He lost his temper.”
“I heard shouting and came to check. But why is he dead? How do you have your arm?”
“Because of a lack of understanding,” Basil countered. “Now, listen to me. You have let us go if you don’t want to incur the wrath of the Faery king.”
“Excuse me?”
Basil peddled his tale to her. “So, you see, this could be beneficial for you.”
“And Lance knows about this?”
“Yes. We were discussing a potential deal when the horde spoiled our chit chat. Trust me, he was very interested in making something happen.”
Sharon glanced at me. “Is this true?”
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
She looked between us, scrutinizing our faces for around thirty seconds. “I don’t believe you.”
“What—”
“Be quiet. Your words are poison. Liar. Lance would never willingly make some deal with a king from another realm. He might be arrogant, but he’s no fool.
He saved us all, he wants a better world for us.
Because this is our world now. The humans are gone, we’re all that’s left.
And, quite frankly, having two fae to draw blood from is better than any wanker king’s offer.
Let him keep hiding behind his gates. You’re ours.
The things we can make with your blood. Possible medicines, aphrodisiacs, anything. Fae blood is special.”
“Yet you keep us trussed up like meat,” Basil threw out. “I’m not feeling particularly special right now.”
“Because you are meat. Dangerous meat. As wonderful as your blood is, you must learn lessons. You must know your place. Recognize that you’re a spring.”
Wow. The disgust on Basil’s face was comical. “Excuse me?”
“A source, Cookie Boy. You’re one of our fabulous new blood springs.”
“I don’t enjoy your impertinence.”
She looked down at Paul. “That’s another blood magi dead at the hands of fae.”
“Orion didn’t kill Chantelle,” Basil said.
“But he was involved. That’s enough for me. Now stop talking.”
Basil’s mouth slammed shut.
Sharon drew a blade. “Even if Lance did want to bargain with your king at some point, I have no orders to give you fluffy cushions or an easy ride.” Sharon faced me.
“And you’re the star. The one he talks about the most. That one,” she jutted a thumb back at Basil, “is surplus. I prefer cherries over cookies any day.”
I swallowed, a sharp scratch in my Adam’s apple. “Stars…”
“You share a name with a constellation.” She dragged her blade across my jumper, the sharp point snagging on the wool.
“I like it. The name suits you. Do you bleed starlight?” Her bloody fingers splayed across my right cheek, cold and smelly.
The acrid stench of rotten fish wafted into my nose, triggering my gag reflex.
The blood magi released a soft moan of pleasure. “I think a demonstration is in order.”
She cut open the front of my jumper, exposing my chest. I shivered in the chilly air, hands shaking enough to rattle the chains.
“Cold, isn’t it?” she said, pressing the blade to my breastbone. “I want to taste you.”
“Please…”
“Did Chantelle plead for her life before you killed her?”
“I—”
“Never mind that now.” Sharon dragged the blade across my chest in a diagonal slice. A shallow cut, blood trickling down my skin.
I sucked in air between my teeth, pulling on the chains.
Stars, please hear my prayer for freedom.
The blood magi sniffed deeply, moaning with pleasure. “Cherries. You really are pure cherries.”
“Please don’t—”
She brought her mouth to my wound, running her tongue along it, lapping at the blood with that repulsive slug-like organ of hers.
Basil watched on in horror, voice box still out of action.
Sharon pressed her lips firmly to my wound, sucking hard. Instinctively, I recoiled, trying to move back. But she latched on like a leech, grabbing my hips for purchase.
I squirmed, sickened to the highest heavens by her touch. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. This was too much. I waited to pass out. Passing out would be a relief from the tongue probing the cut like an enthusiastic maggot.
Mercifully, she stopped, stepping back to examine me.
“Amazing.” She licked her lips, her eyes wicked rubies.
“I need more. I need to go deeper.” She moaned, tilting her head back while she rubbed her stomach.
“You taste so good. You have no idea. It makes me want to dance and fuck and sing.” Her hands began to slide lower.
“So, so good. I want more. Suck and touch. Suck and fuck. I’ll take your dick inside me as I drink. Yes. Yes. Yes.”
Oh. My. Stars. This went beyond revolting. “Don’t come near me.”
Her blazing eyes met mine. “You don’t really have a choice. You’re mine and I’m taking my fill.”
“No!” I yelled at her.
“Yes! But don’t worry, I’ll show you the best time. That wolf’s touch will be nothing compared to mine.”
I gagged, vomit coming up my throat. “Don’t… Don’t you fucking touch me.”
She laughed. “You have no power here, Orion.” Blood leaked from her right eye.
“Sharon?”
She blinked, looking at the source of the voice behind me. “Becky? What are you doing up?” All of sudden, her demeanor softened. “I told you to rest.”
“I smelled the cherries,” Becky answered. Even without seeing her face, I heard her fragility.
Good.
Sharon brushed past me. “Would you like a taste?”
“Yes, please.”
Basil moved his lips, a faint sound escaping.
“He is delicious beyond your wildest dreams,” Sharon crooned.
“I can’t wait,” the meeker Becky said. “I think it will do me good.”
“Come. Take a sip.”
Crap. Crap. Crap.
The two women appeared between us, Becky leaning on Sharon for support.
“What happened to him?” Becky asked, pointing at Paul.
“Lost his temper.”
“Silly Paul. I’ll miss his penis.”
“Me too. At least he was good at that.”
The magi chuckled together.
Disgusting people. Vile, crusty vermin of the worst kind. Hearing them talk like this, preparing to use me as a pleasure fountain, reignited my motivation to be free. They deserved pain. Lots and lots of pain.
Basil was wrong about me not having a killer gene. Super, super wrong. I would happily dig their red eyes out of their heads, revel in their screams, make every second of suffering count before their final breaths.
Sharon waved her blade in my face. “Okay, let’s get sucking. Don’t take too much or Lance will kick our arses.”
“What a lovely man,” Becky responded. “I hope to kiss him one day.”
You won’t have any lips left when I’m done with you!
Okay, time for an exit strategy. These disgusting magi would definitely take too much blood. They were greedy, depraved, and had to be stopped.
Basil, clearly free of blood magic again, tried to break out of the chains again. Grunting, tugging, burning his skin. The room stank of charred flesh.
Sharon brought the blade to my chest. “Deeper this time.”
“Stop it!” Basil cried.
They both ignored him, gluttonous eyes glued to me, drool dripping down their chins, resolute tunnel vision, a cherry fix their only concern.
Sharon cut deeper, the bite making me whimper.
“Eat!”
She froze. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Was it you?” she called back to Basil.
“Get away from him!” he snapped.
“Answer the—”
“Eat!” the voice came again.
A dead voice. The same, horrible sound the ladder-climbing speedies made.
“What was that?” Becky asked, hunching over to make herself small.
Through the grubby window, I saw a hand appear on the edge of the boat where the rope ladder hung. Then a second hand, then radiant pink eyes in a man’s head. He climbed over the side, moving with the motions of a living human.
“Stars…”
Sharon paled. “No. How…”
The man broke into a run across the deck.
“He’s coming in here!” Becky screamed, her high-pitched voice painful to my ears.
Sharon charged. I listened to the action, the hissing, Sharon’s shouting, the squelching sounds, the thump of a body.
“My God,” Sharon wheezed. “It climbed onto the boat. How did it… How did it get here?”
I heard footsteps, then Sharon appeared at the ladder outside the window. She peered over the edge and bellowed something inaudible before running back into the room.
“They’re swimming! They’re fucking swimming!”