Chapter 45
Snake
Standing on deck always made Snake giddy, but not tonight. In a few hours, he’d turn in his best friend for the bounty and, hopefully, Horatio would live to tell the tale. He kept replaying it—handing him to the enemy like a gift—fake smile pasted on.
But Clairidia Castle was quiet.
The boredom added to the tense atmosphere—so thick, Snake could have sliced it to ribbons with the katanas strapped to his back. Of course, the lads used sex to break the tension. Judging by the moans drifting from the open portholes, some were still going at it.
Seven appeared, naked and flushed, lips swollen. “Look at you all battle-ready. We won’t be leaving for a while. What are you doing up here?”
“Thinking, and pacing, and losing my mind.”
“Same.” Seven ran his fingers over Snake’s bulge. “How about bending me over the port side? But stow the blades first.”
Snake grinned as he dropped the katanas. And his britches.
“Remember when we fucked in the crow’s nest?” He followed Seven to the railing. “Cramped, but delightful.”
“I’m not drunk enough to do that again.” Seven bent over the rail, pushing his bottom out in a tantalizing way. “Pound me.”
“Whose cock were you sucking?” He patted Seven’s firm glutes.
“Suki’s. While Iggy fucked him. Hard and fast, like you’d better do to me.”
The sunset lit Seven’s hair in shades of pink and orange. Snake twisted a salmon tendril around one finger as he nestled his cock between Seven’s ass cheeks.
“You look beautiful in this light.”
“Stuff your romantical bullshit and fuck my brains out,” Seven snarled.
Snake stood still. “You were jealous Suki had Iggy’s Umberto. That’s why you came looking for me, right, pet?”
“No. I needed… my captain.”
“Captain?” Snake turned his voice to black velvet. “Or Daddy?”
Seven gasped. “Yes. That’s what I need. Fuck me, Daddy.”
“Should Daddy play with your pretty tits, too?”
“Please.”
Snake rolled each nipple between his fingers. “Like that?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Seven pushed his ass against Snake, hungrier than ever.
“No, pet. Daddy’s in charge.”
He pinched his tits, stroked his cock, and fondled his balls. Seven begged, pleaded, offered a bribe, but Snake made him wait until he was quivering like a lost lamb. He dragged his thumb across Seven’s dripping cockhead.
“Surely you’re ready for Daddy now.”
Seven answered with a groan.
“You know the rules.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Seven hissed through clenched teeth.
“Good boy.”
Snake thrust deep and hard until Seven’s wails of “Fuck me, Daddy,” echoed across the landscape. Once finished, he turned and wrapped his arms around Snake’s waist.
“I love when you edge me like that. So hot.”
“Blazing hot.” Sugar’s voice sounded from the left. He sat with his back against the rail, cock in hand, semen dotting his front.
Seven held out an arm, and Sugar joined their huddle. “How like you to hide in the shadows watching.” He kissed Sugar’s cheek. “You’re my favorite pervert.”
Snake held them tight. But as the afterglow dimmed, anxiety crawled its way inside again, chewing his nerves like candy floss.
“Tell me it’s going to all work out,” he whispered against Sugar’s hair.
“Horatio’s the chosen one. Of course it’ll work out.”
“Now I’m freaked out again.” Seven sniffled.
“I can’t stand this,” Sugar wailed. “The waiting is torturous.”
Snake’s nerves were stretched to breaking. “Take turns with me, boys.” He bent over the railing. “And don’t you dare be gentle.”
· · ·
After they’d portaled into an uninhabited portion of Clairidia and hid the ship behind a wooded ridge, the entire crew was on deck, helping Horatio prepare for his greatest performance.
“He still looks too clean. Rub more dirt on his pants, Suki,” Snake said.
“Maybe you guys should rough me up for real. Split my lip so my shirt will get bloody.”
“No!” They all chorused.
“I’d loan you some rags, but they’d never fit over those muscles. I swear, Horatio, your mother raised you on raw meat,” Iggy said.
“Raw meat, that’s it! We can slap him with a porterhouse. I have some chilling in the fridge right now,” Stiles said.
“All that would do is give me a boner.” Horatio slung his arm around Gunner, smile fading. “Let’s go and get this over with.”
“Does everyone remember the plan?” Snake asked.
“We stay calm unless they retaliate. Then we go fucking crazy,” Suki said.
“I kind of hope they do,” Seven said. “Been too long since we’ve had a good melee.”
“We fought a small army of Reptilians only two weeks ago.” Sugar shook his head.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to do that today.” Snake tied Horatio’s arms behind his back. Gunner kissed him before pulling a burlap sack over his head.
“Is this hood necessary? It itches.”
“I think it’s kind of hot.” Gunner hugged him again. “I’ll save you a seat at the bar.”
Dagger ran at Horatio and buried his face in his chest. “You can do this, Horeeto. Prophecy picked you for a reason.”
“Aw, you’re gonna make me cry, and I need to look tough.”
A lump pressed against Snake’s throat. His eyes welled, but he blinked back tears.
Now wasn’t the time for weakness.
“Places everyone,” Snake bellowed.
Seven held the helm steady as Horatio faced the bow, hooded and bound.
Sugar stood on Horatio’s left, a dagger pressed to his ribs, while Snake flanked his right, gripping his arm like a vise.
Behind them, the crew split into two ranks—menacing in black leather—their bodies forming a living arrow aimed straight at Clairidia Castle.
The Frances drove like a fortress on wheels, leaving hills and streams in her wake. Too soon, their target loomed—hidden by fog that crept in like a bandit’s fingers. Ahead, Snake saw movement on the ground.
“They’ve spotted us. Get ready.”
Snake could feel Horatio’s pulse pounding through his thick bicep, matching his own pounding heart. His palms itched. Could he pull off this next part?
“Slowing it down,” Seven said. “I’m sweating my balls off.”
“Tell me about it,” Horatio said.
They coasted to a stop about a hundred yards from the gate. Frances shimmered under moonlight like a silver omen—flag rippling overhead, sails lit by stars. The guards in the towers shouted words too muffled to hear.
“Now.” Snake waved a hand with dramatic flair, and a portal appeared. Leaving the crew behind, he and Sugar shoved Horatio forward. Their boots crunched gravel as they emerged on the other side, a few yards from the gates.
“One, two, three,” Sugar whispered.
A rush of gasps erupted from the sentries as the ship—and the crew—disappeared into the fog, leaving only a whisper behind.
“Where the hell did she go?” shouted a male Reptilian.
Snake had to stifle a grin. The dramatic entrance sent a tingle through his balls, almost masking his dread. Almost. That dread had teeth, and it gnawed deeper with every step.
“You need to struggle more,” Snake whispered.
Horatio thrashed and shouted obscenities. “Better?” he whispered back.
“Loads.” Snake waited until they were a few feet closer and gave Horatio the cue to fall to his knees. Once down, he yanked him back up. “On your feet, you thieving bastard!”
So far, the plan was working. The guards on the ground and in the towers appeared genuinely confused, and while their swords were drawn, they stood still, transfixed by the show.
Horatio pretended to struggle upright. “Fuck you, vampire!”
“Halt!” a female guard shouted. “What is your business here?” Judging from the medals on her uniform, she was in charge.
They kept walking. “We are here to turn in the criminal known as Horatio Slice,” Snake shouted back. Another collective gasp rang out. “For treason. Against me.”
The female’s yellow eyes widened. Her forked tongue darted across her lips. “This is the one known as the Guitar Slayer?”
“Yes.” He gave a slight bow. “General?”
“Brigadier General Lacertilia.” Her eyes gleamed.
“Pleasure is all mine.”
Snake yanked off Horatio’s hood. Even dirty, with his hair in snarls and clad in torn clothing, the man was a sex god.
A slender male Reptilian stepped forward. “You’re Snake Vinter. Why should we trust a pirate like you?” He touched the tip of his blade to Snake’s chest.
“Yeah!” a human guard shouted from the tower. “Horatio Slice is part of his crew!”
Snake bared his fangs at the one pointing the sword, causing him to step back. “Not anymore, he’s not.” Snake shoved Horatio to the ground, hating the sound of him hitting dirt.
“Don’t listen to him!” Horatio shrieked. “He’s a lying bloodsucking leech!”
It was a bit like being on stage. Snake rested a boot against Horatio’s back, careful not to step too hard. “This scum—this vermin—has been selling valuable objects from my treasury to finance his own ship. And if that weren’t treasonous enough, he’s trying to steal my crew.”
When the guards didn’t look as shocked as he’d hoped, Snake tried a different tactic: “I could have looked past it all, but he sold my dear dead mother’s wedding ring.” He pretended to wipe a tear. “Sold it as scrap metal!”
The guards roared with fury. “We’ll take care of the bastard,” a huge male said.
“No, we won’t,” General Lacertilia said. “Our king will want to handle this one personally. Scythe, call his highness and let him know we have the Guitar Slayer.” She smirked at Snake. “You’ll have the pleasure of watching him get torn to pieces.”
Snake imagined his heart as a trapped wild bird, wings flapping against his rib cage in a desperate attempt to escape.
This wasn’t the plan—Horatio was supposed to get tossed in a holding pen, not be ripped apart in front of him.
The world narrowed to the sound of Horatio’s breathing and the violent possibility of it ending before Snake could bargain for anything.
He tried to speak, but his mind went blank.
Sugar didn’t falter for a second. “We want the bounty.” His tone was cold enough to freeze boiling water.
“You can’t claim the bounty until we have a trial!” Scythe snapped.
General Lacertilia huffed. “Why wait? We can filet and devour him right now.”
“I’m a patient man. Seeing this scumbag face a judge will be worth the wait.” Snake hoisted Horatio to his feet. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and they’ll let you rot in jail.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky, and you’ll choke on your own spooge.” Horatio spat at Snake.
“Double-crossing bastard!” Snake roared and threw a punch, feeling sick inside when his fist connected with Horatio’s jaw.
He’d held that punch, but the stud still flew back a foot.
The force of the fall had loosened the ropes on his wrists.
Hands now free, Horatio struggled to sit up, and Snake was relieved to see his face still in one piece.
“I’ll get you fuckers,” Horatio shrieked. “Every last one of you.” He laughed like a lunatic, playing the part so well that he sent chills down Snake’s spine.
“You’ll need to fill out some paperwork. You two, come with me,” General Lacertilia said. “Scythe and Wyrm, you’ll handle the prisoner.”
The enormous iron gates opened, giving them a closer view of the castle.
Since the original royal estate had burned to the ground when she was a teen, it was Queen Claire who had designed this one, and her touches were everywhere.
But as Snake stared, evidence of neglect became apparent—overgrown gardens, cracked mortar, and sun-bleached paint—but the worst was the palpable grief that coated every surface.
Scythe and Wyrm half-carried, half-dragged Horatio down the grand walkway leading to the front of the castle and then turned down a brick path.
Snake and Sugar followed, flanked by the general.
As they walked, Snake studied the murky windows for any sign of flaming-red hair, certain that Meridian stood behind one, smirking with glee.
The path stopped at a smaller entrance on the west side.
A wide lintel over the door had the words “Clairidia Prison” carved there.
Even after talking to Saul and knowing every detail of what lay beyond, Snake’s knees quivered.
The guards holding Horatio stopped to let the general open the door with a keycard.
“Put the prisoner in a holding cell and wait for me,” she said. When Horatio disappeared behind a metal door, Snake bit back a scream.
“What happens now?” Snake asked.
“Depends on you two,” she said. “Sign the paper and he gets a cell, three squares, and a fair trial. If you don’t, he’s dinner.”
Snake ignored the terror rattling his bones and took the contract. “Will you give me a pen, or should I sign in blood?”
She nodded to a narrow desk. Resting on top were an old-fashioned quill and a jar of ink. “Use those.”
The printed contract appeared older than the quill and smelled of mothballs.
Sweaty fingers slipping, Snake scrawled their names and signed with a flourish.
Every scratch of the nib sounded like a betrayal.
He wanted to scrape off the ink and burn the page—but instead, he handed the pen to Sugar, who added his signature without a word.
“Will you be returning the Master Key? I’ve been stuck here for weeks.” The general fed the contract through an ancient copier.
“If he lives to see trial, I might unlock Clairidia again. Emphasis on might.”
“Why do you care? He’s your enemy, is he not?”
“Seeing him face a judge will be highly amusing, to say the least. I know what happens to those who commit treason.”
She gave a curt nod. “Disembowelment.”
“Public disembowelment.” Snake licked his fangs. “Delicious.”
Her forked tongue shimmered. “I had no idea vampires were so cruel. Single?”
“Taken. By him.” Snake clasped Sugar’s hand.
She took a lingering look at Sugar. “Mmph. I’d let him claim me, too.” She handed Snake a copy of the signed document. “Bring this to the courthouse on the specified date. If you fail to appear, you will be held in contempt and—”
Snake put up a hand. “I’ll be here. You can be rest assured of that.” He heard a commotion on the other side of the metal door, and then Horatio’s voice.
“Fuck you, vampire!” Horatio’s middle finger appeared in the door’s small window.
“Diva, that one.” Snake shook his head. “Always has to have the last word.”
He begged the old gods that it wouldn’t be his last.