Chapter 18
Snake
Once, when desperate, Snake had drunk the blood of a giant sea slug and spent three days writhing with stomach pains.
But that was nothing compared to the burning ache that gripped his guts when he thought Sugar was gone.
But with a click of Seven’s remote, The Frances reappeared with Sugar safe inside.
Snake felt tickly on the inside, like he’d swallowed a bag of feathers.
“Did you see that, boys?” He rubbed his side. “An invisible ship.”
“That’s what Seven meant about your ass,” Horatio said. “This is a game changer!”
Snake pressed his palm against Frances’ hull to make sure she wasn’t an illusion. “You’re not a genius. You’re a wizard,” he shouted to Seven, who was hanging out of the porthole, crystal flute in hand.
“It’s a gift,” Seven said. “Get in here. We’re having champagne.”
The crew was gathered in the living room. An ice bucket holding several bottles of bubbly sat on the coffee table. Snake sighed with relief when he finally spotted Sugar, sitting on the big couch next to Suki—heads together as if plotting something.
My demise, I’m sure.
Stiles pressed a full glass into Snake’s hand. “Can you believe it? We knew Seven was a mastermind, but this is off the charts!”
Seven stood on an ottoman with an empty flute in each hand. “Bow to me and my big, juicy brain, vampire.”
“You’re an absolute wunderkind, Seven. I literally have no words.” This was the worst possible time for the crew to be drunk and off their game. Snake raised his glass. “I have news from Princess Petal, but first, a toast. To Seven and his unmatched genius.”
“To Seven!” the group roared.
Snake pushed the tray aside and stood on the coffee table, a move he knew would get the crew’s attention.
“Hey, vampire, I just polished that,” Stiles huffed.
Snake cleared his throat. “Ormond Caine and Princess Petal have an elaborate prank planned for us this very evening. The question is, should we play along?”
The raucous buzz ceased. Snake relayed the tale, keeping the more sordid details to himself. When finished, everyone stared wide-eyed, shocked into sobriety.
“That’s the last name I expected to hear today,” Suki said. “Why is Ormond sniffing around now?” He glanced at Sugar.
“I wouldn’t know. He and I are like the pyramids—ancient history.” Snake noticed a slight tremble in Sugar’s voice.
He’s really cross. I took it too far today.
“If he wants to fuck with us, let him,” Horatio said. “We’ll see how it all plays out.”
“Ormond is as trustworthy as a grizzly on a coke bender. What motivated this, especially after, what, a hundred years?” Seven asked.
“Maybe he wants attention,” Sugar said. “If word gets out that he pulled a prank on Snake, he’ll gain some respectability.”
“Spot on, darling. And as a bonus, he’d get a glimpse of you, if you decide to join us on this weird side quest, that is.”
“I could be persuaded.” Sugar’s lips softly curved. Snake wanted to kiss those lips and then lower, not stopping until his lover came undone.
Sugar owns me.
The thought hit him like a whale’s tail to the head. Those words had never crossed his mind before. His body trembled.
“I’m going to take a long shower and organize an itinerary in my head. Horatio, Gunner, and Sugar, full battle gear. Let’s scare the piss out of Ormond tonight.”
Under the spray, Snake rested his head against the sliding doors.
He’d always been in charge with Sugar, but now his hold was slipping.
His chest tightened. For a moment, he swore he saw King Asp’s shadow outside the stall—lips curled in a snarl.
The steam thickened. Memories crawled up from the dark: Snake, ten years old, curled inside his toy chest, holding his breath while his father waited.
“Where’s that bloody doll? You’re too old for such nonsense.” He pounded on the lid of the chest. “Come out at once.”
“No. You’ll hit me.”
“I’m not going to beat you, son. I’m going to let the cellar monster eat you for dinner. He does prefer soft little boys. So easy to devour.”
The doll was hidden under Snake’s body. His nanny made it for him shortly after his mother passed away. The doll’s glass eyes were red, like mummy’s. Her porcelain skin the color of a raven’s wing, like mummy’s. His only treasure, yet his father wouldn’t oblige him this one precious item.
Snake turned up the water temperature, hoping to scald away his pain. He breathed in the steam as he soaped up his body, anxious to scrub away any scent that wasn’t his own.
Sugar can smell other men on me, but so what? I’m Snake Vinter, crown prince of Vinterbourne. Emotionless. Shameless. Beholden to no man.
Calmed somewhat, he formed a plan. They would take the ship to Turk and wait for lights out. What time was that again? All Turks went to bed at the same time, per order of the King. But when?
“Open this trunk, you spoiled brat!” Another echo of his father.
He pushed his hands against his eyes.
Go away, you’re dead to me. A ghost, nothing more.
A noise from behind startled him.
“Are you all right?” Sugar stepped into the stall.
“Gunner’s portal did some internal damage. I haven’t felt like myself since then.” He stiffened his spine. “Leave me be and get ready for our mission.”
“I need a shower, too.”
Sugar stood under the spray and wet his hair. Snake couldn’t help but wrap his arms around his beautiful, naked body. When their skin touched, he felt even more untethered.
What’s happening to me?
Once, as a boy, he’d visited a freak show.
A shirtless young man from Graphica was on display in front of the clamoring crowd, smiling despite his odd condition.
A parasitic twin dangled from his breastbone—a tiny, bulbous body with multiple limbs.
A boorish lout shouted, “Where’s its head?
” and the lad said it was inside his body.
“He talks to me,” he’d said. “And tells me to do bad things. But I don’t pay him mind.”
Snake wondered if something inside him—a twin or a parasite—was clawing its way to the top, intent on taking over.
“Deep in thought?” Sugar asked.
“I think this is a simple first mission for Gunner. What about you?” For how long had lying to Sugar been so effortless?
“We’ll be there to take care of him. Besides, it’s Ormond. He’s about as intimidating as a dirty, wet sock.”
“With a crew as limp as he is. Do you think he still wears that needless eye patch?”
“I don’t want to think about Ormond.” Sugar leaned with his back against Snake. “I just want to feel your hands all over me.”
“That’s a happy coincidence.” He caressed Sugar’s dick until it hardened. “Fuck my mouth with this pretty thing. Hard. Like you mean it.”
“I’d rather fuck your ass.”
“Yes, but on my back so I can watch you take me.”
Smiling, Sugar took Snake’s hand and led him to their bed, not caring about the trail of water they left behind. Still sopping wet, Snake lay on his back and pulled his legs up in invitation. Get inside me. Make my body yours.
And Sugar did. Wet hair spilled into his face, covering one eye. Snake palmed his cheek, slipping his thumb between the glossed lips. This fuck was languid. Lazy. Normally, Snake would beg Sugar to pick up the speed. But now, he needed a slow burn.
Snake’s body rocked against the bed. Slow thrusts. Intense pleasure. Tickling against his neck as Sugar licked him there. Silky skin under his fingers when he grabbed his lover’s ass, pushing him deeper inside. All at once, he was whole again.
I’m Snake Vinter. Demon. Predator. Fear me.
Sugar kissed his lips. “Need some rest? I can wake you in half an hour.”
“A bit of shut-eye will do me good.”
The hum of the hair dryer made him drowsy. He was bone-tired—wrung out by Gunner’s turbo-charged portal, full metal jackets slamming into his body, and two rounds of berserker mode. And that was before the high-speed police chase this morning. He sank deeper into the bed, limbs heavy, mind blank.
“You’ll need more than a nap to fix what ails you,” said a strange voice in his ear.
Snake leapt out of bed. “Who was that?”
Silence.
Unnerved, he poured a healthy glass of whiskey and knocked it back. Tonight, after humiliating Ormond, he’d let the boys pull a train on him, and then he’d sleep like the dead.
For now, he donned battle gear: a heavy leather jumpsuit with pockets full of tricks from Ting. After donning boots with thick, lugged soles, Snake stomped to the cockpit.
Confidence restored.
He found Seven with his feet on the dash, reading an erotic paperback novel called “Two Dicks Hit Harder.”
“Is that a book about Petulian men?” When Seven tilted his head in confusion, Snake told him all about what they’d witnessed that afternoon.
“Wow, twin cocks.” Seven licked his lips. “I’ll add ‘fuck a Petulian man’ to my list of life goals, right under ‘try squid riding.’”
“Oh, lad, it’s an experience you’ll never forget.”
Horatio and Gunner strolled through the door, lethal in their battle gear. Snake patted the chair on his left. “Sit here, Gunner. I’ll tell you all about our target, Ormond Caine.” He opened a file, and images filled the screen.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me how freaking gorgeous he is?” Gunner pointed to a photo of a handsome man with auburn locks. The sight of him made Snake clench his teeth. “What’s up with the eye patch?”
“Ormond will tell you otherwise, but the truth is, he wears it to cover a lazy eye.”
Seven snorted. “Then he should wear it over his ass. He named his crew the Turken Rebels to make them sound menacing, but it’s only Ormond and five scrawny guys.”
Snake showed Gunner photos of clay dwellings that grew like mushrooms from soaring cliffs.
“Turk’s barren and rocky, making it impossible to traverse on foot.
But thanks to Seven’s cloaking device, we can park close to the village unseen.
” He pulled up another photo. “This larger cliff house is Ormond’s. That’s where he keeps the book.”
“Next to his bed, right?” Horatio asked.
“Of course. The barmy git needs a sex manual.”
“Maybe he keeps it around for the dirty illustrations. I’m sure some of the pages are stuck together.” Seven waved a hand in the jerk-off motion.
Snake chortled. “Prehistoric porn.”
Seven grabbed a clipboard and asked Snake for the gist of the plan.
“First, we’ll cloak the ship and drive in unawares,” Snake said. “The trickiest bit will be the timeframe—we won’t know the time in Turk until we get there—”
“It won’t matter if we use the whammy glove,” Seven said.
“Bollocks, I’d forgotten about that old thing,” Snake said.
“Lucky for you, I have an eidetic memory.” Seven tossed a pouch to Horatio. “Remember the fun we had with this?”
“How could I not? Check this out, Gunner.” Horatio slipped his hand inside the pouch and promptly disappeared.
“What? You guys have an invisibility machine?”
Horatio reappeared. “It’s a glove made out of chain maille, lined with wool. Wearing it makes you invisible, and—if you touch it to bare skin—you can knock someone out cold for thirty minutes. Including yourself.”
“They like to use it on me. I’ve woken up naked in some strange places.
” Snake patted Seven’s knee. “Brilliant idea, mate. When we arrive, the ship will be invisible, and so will I. Once I’ve nabbed the book, we’ll head straight to Petulia.
Seven, I’d like you to stay here with the rest of the crew, ready to jump in if necessary. ”
Seven started the engines while Horatio alerted the crew via the intercom. Snake was in his element. Mind clear, nerves smooth, he looked forward to debasing Ormond, especially in front of Sugar. The cruelty of the plan sent a tingle through his nads.
I’m the villain in every story.
“We’re cloaked. Going through the portal in 3, 2, 1.” The ship rattled. “Turk’s windy today,” Seven said.
Snake pointed out the windshield. “Still daylight, but thanks to the whammy glove, it doesn’t matter. Are we ready?” Horatio and Gunner nodded.
He led the way to the room Sugar called the “foy-yay” and almost jumped out of his skin. Sugar was already there, sexy as hell in skintight black leather. Snake considered carrying him off to bed and skipping the entire operation.
“Wow, Sugar, you look badass!”
“Thanks, Gunner. This is my usual mission attire.” Sugar also wore a pouch filled with Chinese throwing stars and a sheathed dagger attached to each thigh.
“Why all the pointy things, darling?” Snake asked. “We’re stealing a book, not taking over the entire dimension.”
“You know how I love to accessorize.” Sugar nodded to the bag hooked to Snake’s right hip. “Why the whammy glove?”
“So we don’t have to hide in the ship until one a.m. Besides, the sooner we start, the quicker we’ll be finished, and I can give you a proper ravishing.”
“Are you threatening me with a good time, vampire?”
“No. The best time.” Snake slung his guitar across his back. “Stay here unless I call, or you hear me scream, or if something explodes.”
“Are you sure you want to go in there alone?” Sugar asked.
“I can handle Ormond.” Snake kissed Sugar’s cheek. “But can I handle you after you study the Kama Sutra?”