Chapter 5 The Fucking
Cecil’s nerves were getting the best of him. His neck had started to ache from the strain. Honestly, no matter how soft the bed was—and it was pretty fucking soft—how was he expected to relax with everything going on?
On top of the current fucked-up situation, the throbbing in his side had become less manageable, because whatever they had drugged him with had left his system.
Well, the pain was partly his fault. He was the one who refused the meds the healers had offered. So complaining about that wasn’t really an option. Cecil would rather be in pain and fully aware than doped up and defenseless.
Speaking of the pain-be-gone drugs, they must have temporarily destroyed Cecil’s ability to think rationally. Seriously, what the hell had he just done? What had possessed him to do something so stupid?
Fuck, he was so going to jail. This was all too good to be true. Cecil had finally chosen the wrong guy to target, and now his ass was going to get locked up. He had been so close to something better. Cecil had finally gotten free—it wasn’t fair!
Nothing in his short life had given him the idea he could trust strangers, or anyone really, so why had he done so now? Yeah, the Zaytari were supposed to be the ‘good’ guys, but none of them had ever been any help before.
Hell, Cecil’s only prior experience with them was the time they dragged him kicking and screaming back to his father.
Though, whether they had actually been part of the Zaytari or not was questionable. The two men who’d grabbed him had looked shady as fuck.
Which didn’t matter at the moment, because he was now well and truly screwed. Except not in the good way—not that Cecil would know what that felt like.
The drugged-up him not only told the two men where he was staying, but he had also given them the damn key to get in. So right about now, Sin Draven’s little henchman Benji was probably looking through his stuff.
At least, they will have my full name when they booked me, he thought snidely.
Eyeing Sin, Cecil searched for clues as to what the man was planning.
The vampire was just sitting quietly on the couch against the wall, and had been since Benji left.
Legs crossed, hands resting folded on his knees, the man appeared to be completely relaxed and unbothered by the current situation.
Cecil was picking up nothing. Cecil was also having a hell of a time keeping his mind straight. Whenever he looked at the man, his thoughts tried to drift away from searching for ulterior motives, to wondering what Sin looked like without his suit.
Damn, what was it about Sin Draven that just did it for him? Sure the guy was hot, but so were a lot of guys. Maybe it was because he seemed nice? Sin’s baby-blue eyes had actually appeared to fill with worry when he’d looked at him, which was bizarre.
Who would care so much for a complete stranger? Especially one who tried to rob you…
What kind of name was Sin, anyway? Who the hell named their child that? And holy shit, did it not match his job. A Zaytari boss named Sin—Cecil would have thought it was a joke if it hadn’t come directly from the man’s own mouth.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
The smooth voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Pft, I’m not afraid of you.”
“I swear on my honor, you are safe with me. Whatever you have stolen in the past, while wrong, can be forgiven due to your circumstances. Though, I will say this. I believe your crimes have been voided, as the men no doubt were perfectly aware you were underage.”
Cecil plastered a sweet, but very fake, smile on his face. “It was my first time.”
Sin chuckled. “You lie quite well, little one.”
As his face heated, he glared and snapped, “I’m eighteen, asshole, and I’m not little!”
“Language,” the man said in a disapproving tone. “Your age now is irrelevant. The fact remains that for the majority of your…activities, you were not of age to give consent. Those men cannot claim innocence in this, as they were old enough to know better.”
Because Sin only had proof of one crime so far, rather than admitting Sin was right, Cecil asked, “What is it with you and swearing?”
“I find crude language unnecessary. Emotions can be expressed fully and accurately without the use of such words,” Sin informed him with a soft smile. “Now, as I have answered quite a few of your questions, I would appreciate it if you would answer a few of mine.”
Cecil’s back tensed painfully. This was it—the man was going to dig for information to use against him.
“There is no need to be so suspicious, Cecil. While the questions I have are not pleasant, your answers will not be used against you. Contrary to what you believe, I am trying to help.”
“We’ll see,” Cecil snorted.
“You do not know me, so I can accept your distrust for now. First off, I need to inform you of what the healers discovered. Your…” Sin trailed off, frowning at a muffled ringing. “Apologies,” the man said before pulling a phone out of his jacket.
Gods, Sin was annoyingly polite. Whatever, at least the questions had been stalled—if only for a few minutes. Cecil shifted nervously when Sin’s brow rose and his gaze slipped to him.
“Benji, what… I see. Yes, well, I will ask him. One moment.” Sin pulled the phone away from his ear and looked fully at him.
Before Sin could say anything, Cecil asked, “What?”
“Benji has found…something in your bathtub. An arcanid, to be exact. Is it yours?”
Oh, shit—Drop. How the hell had he forgotten? Cecil was a bit surprised the little bugger was still kicking. But should he admit it was his? It wasn’t exactly normal to leave an arcanid running around. Usually they carried out their purpose immediately after creation and then dissolved.
Well, he couldn’t let them leave it there…or have them destroy it. It was his—Drop was his. Real or not, Cecil couldn’t let anyone have it.
“It’s mine,” he admitted.
“I see,” Sin mused carefully before bringing the phone back to his ear. “Benji, it is his, bring it with you.” The man paused and said, “Yes, I see. Cecil, it is refusing to leave.”
Cecil rolled his eyes and held out his hand for the phone. At least, he now knew Drop actually listened to him.
Phone in hand, he ordered, “Benji, yeah, hi. Hold the phone up to it, will you?”
“Uhh, okay,” Benji muttered.
When Cecil heard a chirp, he smiled. “Drop, be good and listen to the man, okay?” After another chirp, which Cecil assumed was it agreeing, he handed the phone back to Sin.
The man said a few words and then hung up, his full attention returning to Cecil. “So, as I was about to say… The healers found some anomalies. Your healing abilities are diminished. They don’t believe it will be permanent though. However, I feel we all know why that is the case.”
Gee, who would have guessed that being constantly injured would fuck something up?
“You know, I haven’t heard a question yet. I’m starting to wonder if you really have any,” Cecil drawled.
His snark had no effect on the man. Expression serious, Sin implored, “Who has been hurting you, Cecil?”
“Who said anyone is hurting me? Maybe I’m just clumsy, ever consider that?”
Sin looked thoroughly unimpressed by Cecil’s lie. The rise of the man’s right brow clearly said ‘you can’t be serious’.
“Why do you even care?”
“I cannot force the information from you. Though I am positive it was a relative of some kind. No one else would have access to you at such a young age.”
“And how do you know they aren’t recent?”
“Cecil, I am old enough to know an old scar when I see one. And unlike people, scars tend to not lie.”
Cecil couldn’t argue with that. Why was he even trying to lie in the first place? Sin knowing about his father wouldn’t affect him. Who knows, maybe the bastard would finally suffer a bit.
Looking into Sin’s eyes, Cecil hoped he was wrong—that just maybe the man was really trying to help. “My father, Ernest Baxter.”
That announcement led to a whole slew of new questions that Cecil refused to answer.
“Cecil, I am only trying to—”
Benji returning with his stuff interrupted whatever Sin planned to say. “Hey, guys,” the man greeted, setting Cecil’s backpack down in a chair, and rolling his small suitcase next to it.
Sin tsked, “Benji, it’s rude to just walk in. Knock next time.”
Blushing, the man rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.” Benji cleared his throat awkwardly and plucked Drop from his shoulder. “Ah, here, I believe this is yours,” Benji said, giving the little creature over.
Smiling sadly, Cecil rubbed the top of Drop’s head. “Can I have a tissue?”
“Of course.” Sin got up, pulled one from the box on the side table and handed it over.
Laying the tissue flat on his right palm, he placed Drop on top of it. Despite knowing it was not truly living, it still pained Cecil to steal the last bit of energy holding the arcanid together.
But he did it anyway. Cecil pulled it back, his skin tingled as his essence returned and Drop became nothing more than a puddle of blood that quickly soaked into the tissue.
Benji cried out, “Why?” Tears started to form in the man’s eyes, a look of horror on his face.
“It was time…” Cecil said softly.
Casting a spell that took away the brittleness, he then began to fold the blood-coated tissue.
“Time for what?! He…it…” Benji’s struggles to find the right words ended in a distressed whimper.
“Benji, arcanids can only stay outside the body for so long,” Sin soothed. “You must have noticed how labored the creature's movements were.”
Cecil had no intention of explaining or justifying his actions to anyone, so he ignored the two men and continued with his task.
With one last fold, the tissue was now a small, puffy one-inch square. The puffiness went away when Cecil cast another spell. Flattening completely, it was now just slightly thicker than a piece of paper.
“It would have been cruel to let it continue. Even if it is not really alive,” Sin stressed.
Cecil flinched at the word ‘alive’.