Chapter Fourteen
Leo thrust into Betrys from behind, surrounding her with his strength.
Each time they made love, it seemed better.
More. She shuddered beneath him, the quakes speeding to her quim and squeezing his cock in rhythmic spasms. Leo nuzzled her neck, his lips moving over the spot on her neck that drove her crazy.
He kissed her there, and her heart filled so much she thought she might burst with happiness.
“Leo.” His name was a breathy sigh.
“Yes, darling Betrys?”
“Please move. Now.” She wriggled forward then slammed back on his cock, and a mew of satisfaction escaped her. He…this…she’d never imagined there would be another man after Corrin. And even if this was for the short term, it showed her there was hope for the future. Her future after Iseult.
“Anything for you, Betrys.” He retreated and pushed back inside her channel, his shaft filling her deeply and massaging every tender spot on the way.
His lips fastened on the strange mark that had appeared low down on the side of her neck—the faint black mark that wouldn’t seem to scrub away.
He sucked hard and the sensations roaring along her veins intensified ten-fold.
“Leo, yes! Yes!” Her quim tightened, flexed and she let out a cry of acute pleasure as she spilled over into climax.
Leo surged deep, and she sobbed out his name.
He thrust hard again, a primal grunt emerging, his breath misting across her neck.
His tongue rasped that spot again, back and forth, back and forth.
Another mini orgasm tore through her, and she was vaguely aware of Leo coming.
“Lights on,” a hard voice screeched.
“What the fuck?” Leo pulled out of her and whirled around in a defensive crouch. “You can’t just walk into someone’s home. Get the fuck out.”
Iseult. Horror spurted in Betrys, and she rubbed her bare arms. She had to get her robe.
Without taking her gaze from Iseult, she slid from the bed, ultra-aware of her nakedness, her vulnerability.
This wasn’t the way she wanted things to go with Iseult.
She’d wanted to make sure Ricci was safe, then disappear without any fuss.
Confrontation hadn’t been part of her plans.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her robe.
She had to get dressed. Her fingers wrapped around her discarded garment and she forced her locked limbs to work.
“You’re dead,” Iseult snapped and her furious gaze went from him to fasten on Betrys. She hissed, a sibilant sound spelling danger. “You lied to me.”
Iseult’s high-pitched screech, her menacing threat, roused Betrys from her fear, and she scrambled into her robe and tied her belt to fasten the clothing securely around her waist. Her acute sense of vulnerability subsided, her pulse rate leveled out, and she edged toward the door.
“What you say?” Iseult demanded, and her skin rippled.
“I did not lie.” Betrys slid another step closer to the door, her gaze locked on Iseult while remaining a healthy distance. “You assumed he was dead.”
“All others died.” Iseult’s head cocked, her gaze on Leo. Puzzlement and intrigue shimmered in her voice, but the underlying flatness to her tone bade Betrys to hurry. “Why not he?”
“I didn’t lie.” Betrys glanced at Leo, interpreted his silent approval, and sidled another step. Iseult couldn’t watch them both at once. If she had to split her attention, it might give one of them a chance to raise the alarm.
“You lied by omission,” Iseult said and a deep growl issued from low in her chest. Her skin rippled again, and she lost the fight to hold her shape.
Her spider form burst outward, and the sharp rent of fabric filled the air.
A shrill cry spilled from her throat, and she trembled, her legs shaking before settling on the tiled floor to stabilize her rotund black body.
Her chest was a patchwork quilt of vivid green and red and blue, while her face remained in a humanoid form, pale and smooth and beautiful with a skillful application of enhancements, and her black hair in an upswept style.
Ugh. The contrast of beauty and ugliness took creepy to new levels. Betrys couldn’t look at her without shuddering, without recalling the acts of murder the woman had committed, without worrying about the murders she might yet commit.
Leo gestured at the door, and Betrys dipped her head in an imperceptible nod.
“What are you doing here, Iseult?” Leo’s eyes were long and narrow, and Betrys noticed his hands were clenched, probably to hide his claws. She could see his feline bursting to attack.
But they needed more room. They needed to stall in the hope that help would arrive. She slid nearer to the doorway.
“Stand still.” Iseult’s voice was a high shriek of rage that made the small hairs at Betrys’s nape rise in agitation.
“Why should we?” Leo countered, and he kept moving. “You’re the one who’s trespassing.”
Iseult twisted her head from left to right and back again. “Pretty belongs to me. Not you. You will pay.” Another piercing cry rippled from her throat, repeating three times before she fell silent, a gloating smile curving her bright-pink lips. “My men come.”
“Lights on,” Betrys said in a firm voice from the main room. Sly and Joe were retrieving Ricci. She had to believe that. They would rescue her son.
Bluebird lifted his head from his cushion in the corner and let out an enquiring honk.
“Do you hear me, Bee-trice?” Iseult singsonged. “I have your son. I’m sure he’ll taste delicious.” She crawled along the floor and shot out into the larger room, stalking Betrys.
“Bitch,” Betrys spat, fear at her employer’s presence eclipsed by fury. She glared at Iseult. “Ricci has nothing to do with this. He’s a child. An innocent.” Her gaze speared to Leo. He placed a finger to his lips and reached for his com-circle.
“I see you, Pretty. Leave communicator and come join us out here,” Iseult ordered. “Yes, good. Good. You stay while I deal with my traitorous assistant.”
“How are you going to deal with me, Iseult?” Betrys’s voice cracked toward the end, negating her feisty attitude.
She wiped her sweaty palms on her robe and lifted her chin to scowl at her employer.
Ex-employer. She was finished working for Iseult.
“Kill me in the same way you murdered all those men?”
“Pretty lives.” Iseult flicked open her communicator. “Spiderus Mansion.”
Hell, the last thing they needed was for Iseult to learn Ricci had disappeared, or even worse, if Iseult ordered security tightened at the mansion.
Without even considering the consequences, Betrys darted forward and knocked the com-circle from Iseult’s hand.
It clattered onto the tiles and skidded across the floor.
Iseult jumped after it and came to a screeching halt, her attention on the jar containing her offspring.
She croaked and seemed to shrink, her limbs rounding into her oval Spiderus abdomen.
“Mine? Mine!” she roared.
She whirled to face them, her torso expanding, her legs lifting and stomping on the tiles. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. “What you do? Mine. Mine. Mine.”
“They were killing Leo.” Betrys steeled herself, trying not to let Iseult’s anguish get to her. “We cut them out.”
Iseult whirled on Betrys. “I will kill your son. I’ll suck out his essence and cut him into pieces then put him in a jar and keep him on display.”
A guttural roar rushed Betrys’s throat, and she whipped the knife Caspar had given her from her pocket. She flew at Iseult, brandishing the knife, with blood pounding in her ears. “You are not hurting my son!” Rage drove her, obscured her vision.
Hack. Slash. Repeat.
Hack. Slash. Repeat.
She struck repeatedly at one of Iseult’s legs and the limb dropped to the floor. Iseult roared and jumped so high her head thumped the ceiling. It must’ve dazed her because she stumbled on landing.
Hack. Slash. Hack. Slash. Slash. Slash.
Iseult leaped at her, knocking her off balance, and her knife went airborne. Betrys hollered, fury rushing up her throat. Something shifted under her skin, and she staggered. Pain—so much pain—slammed her senses. Betrys forced the agony back, groped for her knife.
The blade sliced her palm, and relief soared in her. Her fingers curled around the hilt with a sense of triumph. Chest heaving, Betrys rolled to her feet, her gaze on Iseult, as she circled ready to attack again.
“Bring it, Spiderus,” she growled in a voice that wasn’t hers.
“Saber,” Leo hollered. “We need you now.”
Iseult shrieked and jumped at Betrys. Splotches of purple life force sprayed over the floor. Betrys darted to the side and Leo sprang at Iseult, knocking the Spiderus off balance. The three of them slid on the purple goop and crashed against the wall, sending entertainment vids flying.
“I kill your son and give his corpse to my men.” Iseult hissed and waved her leg stump, spraying more purple into the air. “Then put in jar.”
Kill. Kill. Kill. Betrys hurtled against Iseult, heedless of her own safety.
They came together in another angry collision, and the jar containing Iseult’s offspring soared through the air.
It crashed onto the tiles, exploding on contact.
Shards of glass flew, and the vinegar and contents spewed across the floor.
“Holy fuck.” Felix gaped at the scene from the doorway.
Bluebird squawked and swooped on the Spiderus egg sac. Two determined pecks later, and Iseult’s offspring were gone.
“What the hell?” Saber said. “Did Bluebird just eat that thing?”
“Yeah.” Leo pumped his fist in the air. “Go, Bluebird.”
“Murder. Murder.” Iseult let out an eerie cry. “Kill, kill, kill.”
Betrys circled her warily.
Iseult let out a battle cry and ran at Betrys.
“Grab her,” Saber said.
“No, stand.” Leo stopped his brother. “Betrys needs this.”