18. Aliana #2
Creep’s face abruptly turns serious, all hint of teasing gone, and I wonder if I pushed him too far, if he’ll punish me for my disrespect. I brace myself, debating the merits of fighting back, when he says, “If I ever break that spirit of yours, I give you permission to stab me in the heart.”
Wait…what?
What?
That’s not what I expected him to say. At all.
I blink, and Creep’s patented grin returns as if it never left in the first place.
But it did.
It definitely did.
“Now, are you coming, or are you just going to stand there staring at me?” He wiggles his clawed fingers in my direction.
“Don’t get me wrong…I like it when you stare at me.
My cock definitely likes it when you stare at me.
” He stares down at his crotch, where there’s a visible bulge in his trousers. “But you said no sexy stuff—”
“Where are we going?” I rush to catch up with him, ignoring his outstretched, waiting hand.
When he realizes I’m not going to take it, he drops it back to his side with what sounds like a resigned huff. “Through the portal, of course.” He gives me a look as if that should be obvious. “You can’t very well play a game when there are no pawns.”
“Through the portal?” My heart begins a complicated pattern of halting and starting up again, hope igniting within me. “We’re leaving?”
We’re actually leaving?
Creep’s grin darkens around the edges. “Don’t get your hopes up, little warrior. I’m going to be keeping my eyes on you the entire time. We can’t have you running away.”
“I was just shocked, that’s all. You said I couldn’t have my freedom unless I won,” I deflect quickly.
“This isn’t freedom, sweetheart,” he teases, and before I can react, he grips my upper bicep and all but drags me towards the closet.
I don’t bother to resist or fight. If he can get me out of here, even for a moment…
“This is hell.”
And then we’re stepping inside the closet, and the world falls out from underneath me. My belly twists and tightens, as if there’s a string connected to it and that string is being pulled taut. I clamp my lips together to hold in the bile that threatens to escape.
And then…
We’re stepping through a coat closet into the hall of a very, very familiar mansion.
Of course, the last time I was here, I was on the stage…
Terror steals the breath from my lungs, and violence surges within me, rising like a cyclone but dissipating before it can fully form.
I wheel around to bear on Creep. “Why the fuck did you bring me here?”
Tongues of all shapes and sizes are clustered together in the grand ballroom we now step into—sipping from champagne flutes, laughing and talking amongst themselves, dancing before an orchestra. Playing human.
Creep accepts two flutes from a passing waiter and hands one to me.
“What can I say? Monsters love to party.” He winks a dark blue eye at me and then brings the edge of his glass to mine, clanking them together. “And me? Well…I love to crash them.”
“So you’re party crashing,” I repeat numbly. It’s not a question.
My eyes flicker to the ominous stage, currently empty, and Creep’s entire face seems to harden, becoming hewn from solid stone.
“Don’t worry, little warrior. There are no auctions today.
And even if there were…” He sidles a few steps closer until his presence overwhelms me, until I can’t see anything but him, hear anything but him, breathe anything but him.
He’s everywhere. “No one would touch you. Not while you’re with me. ”
I know I shouldn’t trust his words—and a part of me doesn’t—but something inside of me seems to release. It’s as if a fuse to some huge, explosive bomb has been stomped out at the last possible moment, saving the world from mass destruction.
“So what’s this party for?” I surreptitiously scan the crowd…and the doorways, searching for an exit. There’s one in particular that captures my eye.
Servers in revealing clothes hurry back and forth through it, each carrying trays of food and drinks. Are those…?
“Humans,” I whisper, horrified.
“Fangers,” Creep corrects, as if that’s supposed to mean something to me.
When I stare at him with a quirked brow, he grips my upper arm once more and steers me towards a quiet corner of the ballroom.
“They’re humans who willingly offer themselves up to powerful monsters in the hopes of better lives. ”
“For…sex?” I’ve heard rumors of humans like that, but I didn’t actually believe them to be true.
What person would willingly offer themselves up as a slave? For their bodies to be used and destroyed and then inevitably discarded? I know life sucks out beyond the wall that lines Ebony Kingdom, but it has to be better than this. This isn’t life; it’s just existing.
But then again, can I really judge these humans? I have no idea what they’ve been through or what their lives have been like. Maybe they didn’t have a choice. Maybe this was their way to survive. Maybe they’re like me, biding their time until they can find a way to escape.
“For sex. For other…needs.” Creep takes another sip of his drink, his eyes scanning the fangers with cool distaste.
One of the human women is on her hands and knees, completely naked.
Two monsters are on either side of her. One rams his tentacles into her pussy while the other has his horn in her mouth.
It’s…disturbing, to put it mildly. Especially when the woman cries shamelessly, shaking her ass and spreading her thighs so the tentacles can enter her deeper.
She even moans “yes” around the horn as if she likes it.
“And you’re saying you never had a fanger?” I ask in disbelief.
Creep scoffs, following the direction of my gaze.
“Of course not. Believe it or not, I like my women to be willing. If they're screaming, I want it to be because they’re so overcome by pleasure, they can’t think.
Besides…” His hand clamps down on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth over my collarbone. “I don’t like my women desperate.”
Once again, my brain fails me and my mouth moves before I can stop it.
Or maybe I just want to watch this scary, powerful monster squirm.
“So…let’s just say…if I were desperate for you, for your cock…
” I casually brush a hand against the muscles of his abdomen, and I swear he flexes automatically.
Or maybe… Maybe he’s holding his breath. “You would tell me no?”
Have I struck him speechless?
He doesn’t immediately answer me, and I cast an inconspicuous glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
His features almost appear pained as he stares at where my hand still touches his skin, his brows drawing together.
Wanton need reflects in his eyes, a stark contrast to the mocking, disdainful look he always seems to wear.
Just as quickly as it appears, it dissipates, locked away behind iron shutters.
“Shall we play our game?” He closes his fingers around my wrist and removes my hand from his stomach. I think he’s going to let me go, but instead, he clasps our fingers together and uses our combined hands to point at a monster standing directly in front of us. “You see that man?”
The “man”—if you can even call him that—has a gray, bulbous body, with tiny wings protruding from his back.
At least, I think they’re wings. They’re definitely the strangest apparitions I’ve ever seen, long and striated, sort of like two fins.
Messy purple hair frames a hideous face that almost resembles a cat—yellow eyes, whiskers on his cheeks, and a dark brown nose.
His lips are twisted into a haughty sneer.
“What the fuck is he?”
“That”—Creep narrows his eyes—“is Geova Barton. He’s a Five and has honestly been a pain in my ass.
” A wicked glint materializes in his eyes, one that screams trouble for me, and he begins to dance from foot to foot.
“So I want you to go over there and whack the cup of blood he’s drinking so it splashes all over his smug, ugly face. ”
I unclasp our hands and spin towards him.
I don’t know if I’m staring at him with fear or anger.
As it is, I have to curl my hand into a fist to keep from slapping him—something I know will get me killed.
He may find my defiance amusing, but that will only go so far, especially if I humiliate him in public.
He’s still a tongue, still a Terror, and I’m nothing but a human slave. “Are you fucking crazy? He’ll kill me.”
Creep scoffs and rolls his eyes, as if I’m being dramatic. “He won’t kill you.”
“He won’t kill you ,” I retort, folding my arms over my chest. “But me…” I’m human. And dressed in my nightgown, I definitely blend in with the other fangers, who all wear various forms of lingerie. “He’ll definitely kill me.”
“So are you calling kraken?” Creep singsongs, a slow, almost salacious grin tugging up his lips. “Are you quitting on the first round?”
My nails bite into my palms as I debate what to do. If I go over there and whack Geova’s drink, he’ll try to kill me, of that I have no doubt. I’m a human. A slave.
But…
But I don’t really have a choice.
I need to win this damn game if I’m ever going to find a way to escape. I just have to hope that Creep’s apparent interest in me will be enough to save my life.
Creep must see the grudging acceptance in my eyes, because his own sparkle wickedly. His smile is absolutely dazzling when he says, “Go on,” and jerks his chin towards the hideous gray monster.
Adrenaline wages a fierce storm inside of my body. I can hear the clash of thunder reverberating between my ears, see the brilliant crack of lightning, make out the pounding of rain against the puddles on the sidewalk.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
Geova, who has been in a conversation with a pink-haired woman, turns towards me expectantly with a lascivious look.
“What do we have here?” He sneers down at me, his eyes snagging on my breasts. “A toy for me to play with?”