21. XXI
XXI
Echo
I sat on the street curb as a Vice doctor tended to my injuries. Aster approached with Spencer glued to her side, both sipping martinis like they weren’t surrounded by ash and ruin.
My eyes narrowed on Spencer’s glass. “I thought you were pregnant?”
“Oh, honey, you know I’d never let that shit happen by chance.” And I swear, her green irises ignited from within.
I was already seething from saving her sorry ass earlier, but after that confirmation, I was practically vibrating.
“Get cleaned up,” Aster said. “Then, we’re going to have a full internal investigation and clean house .”
My attention flicked to Spencer. “She’s not coming. She’s not Vice.”
Spencer laid a hand on Aster’s shoulder. “That’s okay, Aster . I have to reconvene with my sisters anyway.”
I started. Maybe a little from the pain, but definitely from the show of their obvious rapport. No one called Aster by name, especially in public. That my mistress didn’t even flinch from the familiarity made me suspicious and maybe a little envious.
Spencer noticed. Behind Aster’s back, she raised a middle finger, then proceeded to push that finger in her mouth, her eyes rolling back, pretending to suck herself off. Insane bitch. Or maybe I was the insane one wishing it was my dick… Which was now inconveniently stiff.
Aster promised to meet me later before leaving to refill her drink.
Spencer, on the other hand, lingered closer, whispering over me so only I could hear. “Don’t worry, Echo. I’ll make sure Mummy pays your child support when I eventually steal her from you. Soon, she will have a new child, a new heir to take over Vice.”
As I went to latch my hands around her throat, Spencer managed to jump out of reach, sparing a wink and air kiss before she turned and sauntered away.
Aster and I rode the elevator up to my apartment, another day of retribution done. After the betrayal of one captain, we automatically clicked into overdrive, sifting through the masses of Vice to gather and cull all the treacherous cunts who thought they could steal a piece of power for themselves.
Aster sighed, clicking away on her phone. Despite her exhaustion, she stood as rigid and proud as ever. We hadn’t slept for two days straight, and I was still recovering from the various burns that scarred my flesh. However, our need for vengeance could not go unchecked, and now we could finally rest after staining the streets with traitors’ blood.
It also helped that I hadn’t seen Spencer. Despite her blatant taunting and undisguised provocations, her allure and magnetism still reeled me in, a slow-acting toxin that ate away at my resolve whenever she was in the vicinity. Hell, I almost got burnt alive because of her.
She was the last person I’d touched, the last remaining being on earth who got my dick hard. I was pleased that my manhood wasn’t broken, but loathed the fact that it only worked at the thought of her.
As we reached my sub-penthouse, Aster spoke another command. “Tell Spencer dinner goes ahead as planned.”
I pressed the emergency stop button in the elevator before the doors could open, folded my arms and turned full bodied to my mistress.
“What dinner?”
Aster flicked an irritant glance up from her phone, impatience rife in the red depths of her eyes. “I have a dinner scheduled with the Kings. An unofficial meeting, per se, to discuss our progress and potential plan for the Ludus.”
“And when the fuck were you going to tell me this?” I scoffed. “I’m your second in command, Aster. You’ve been keeping an awful lot from me lately. Am I going to be chained and questioned under the point of your sharpened fucking nails alongside the rest?”
She pitched a brow at my tone. “Is there a need to?”
“If I ever had the thought, you’d never know it. You’d already be dead,” I said, the statement altogether blasphemous but true.
Aster paused, then released a sincere chuckle, returning her attention to her phone. “I wouldn’t expect otherwise. I raised you, after all.”
I hadn’t realised my muscles were stiffened into stone until they began to spasm. “What are you doing with Spencer? What are you playing at?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
Inhaling deep, I forcibly breathed out my tension. Unfurling my arms, I went with honesty. “I find myself questioning that more often these days. What are you doing with her when you go on your little excursions? What are you ordering her to do?”
Aster gave me her undivided attention, eyes panning down my frame as if really seeing me for the first time. “Echo, darling. You haven’t been paying attention if you think that girl would take orders from me… Or anyone.” A strange expression flashed over her face that I’d never seen before—it almost looked like sorrow. “There is a greater connection here than you originally thought.”
“What does that?—”
Aster pushed to her tiptoes and dragged on my ear like an errant toddler. “When the time comes, you will know. As of right now, don’t fucking push it.” With that scolding, Aster retreated, nicking my neck with the tip of her nail. The shallow cut was an indicator for the end of the conversation.
I turned and released the emergency stop button, and as I stepped out to enter my apartment, Aster said her final piece. “I’d never put Spencer in harm’s way, Echo. I’d never do that to you .”
Perplexed, I shifted, catching that red gaze. “ Me? ”
“Spencer’s not her , Echo. She isn’t Camil?—”
“I said never to speak her name again. Unless you have that bitch locked up somewhere so she can take all my hate, all my fucking anger in order to repent for her sins.”
“When are you going to let her go, and see what’s right in front of you?—”
“ Enough .” I growled, my teeth bared, ready to rip her to shreds.
The doors conveniently closed, the last image of Aster shaking her head in disappointment.
I crossed the foyer and came to a halt in the archway. Spencer hadn’t seen me yet, too preoccupied with stirring a spatula through an overflowing bowl.
The kitchen was a bomb site, ingredients coating every surface while countless dirty utensils were strewn wherever they could fit. Front and centre of the whole damn mess was Spencer, stained cooking apron tight over her front, flour ribboned throughout her auburn hair.
My lips involuntarily lifted at the sight, the vision domestic and achingly generic. The total opposite to Spencer…or me.
The longer she stayed, the more accepting I became of her presence. I could sense the inevitable shift inside my bones, no matter how hard I tried to push against it. I was loathe to admit that I enjoyed the refreshing, fucked up dynamic—our endless bickering, the running taunts, the constant game in tug of war.
Before long, I found myself rushing to get home, looking forward to the end of my day so I could return, just to be with her, to see her face.
I craved her company, seeking her out on purpose, addicted to the attention only she could provide. I didn’t like the power she had over me, influencing my everyday life like she had a say in it at all. I had to gain control over myself because I knew the inevitable end all too well.
I smoothed my features before stepping further into the room. She became aware of my entrance at the same time a distinct ring sounded. Ignoring me completely, her interest diverted to her phone, features igniting with genuine joy as she answered. “Hey, lover .” My jaw clenched as my hands curled into fists. She hadn’t seen me for two days, and I couldn’t even get a hello?
Sure, I was jealous… And I despised her for it. Yet, I wanted it all. To be on her mind, in her thoughts, festering inside her fucking dreams so she was never free of me. Just like I was never free of her.
Spencer turned her back, bending over to check the oven, and it took everything in me not to groan out loud. She wore skimpy black lingerie beneath her apron, her plump ass shining for me to sink my teeth into.
Gearing for the hallway, I made my escape, refusing to make a fool of myself. My fists unfurled as I developed a plan. I wouldn’t be the one to break. I was going to make her keel over and fucking beg for mercy. Then, maybe I’d be able to forgive her making me feel that way.
SPENCER
My phone was tucked in between my ear and shoulder as my hands were occupied, beating the cake batter into submission. Distant screams and chants blared through the speaker.
“What the hell is going on over there? Are you still at the clinic?” I asked Emerson.
She huffed, slamming doors in the background until all fell quiet. “The protesters are starting to riot. Hangman’s Block is overrun, the streets teeming with angry people.”
“What’s the government doing about the missing children?”
Emerson scoffed. “You always were the funny one.”
“Fucking useless,” I said, and she hummed in agreement.
“Em, can we get some help out here, please?” someone interrupted from her end. I tossed the bowl and grasped my phone, smearing flour all over the screen.
“Meek, you’re not bailing on tonight,” I said, the command irrefutable.
Emerson spared a muffled reply to the intruder. “I’ll be right out, Chai. Just give me a minute.”
Emerson’s voice sharpened, clear cut through the phone. “I’m not going to miss dinner, Spence.” Then, her tone softened, almost wistful. “We miss you.”
A small smile tilted my lips as I thought of my siblings. I’d never been so long without them. Just as I was about to reply, Echo sauntered into the kitchen. He wore a lone towel, his injuries plastered as trophies over his skin, accentuated by the stray wet droplets running down his torso from his shower. Suddenly, I’m thirsty.
I let my smile tip higher. “Miss you too, sexy .”
Static came through the phone as Emerson stalled, when a comical scoff sounded through. “Let me guess, Echo is there?”
I released a flirtatious giggle as Echo skimmed passed me to the fridge. “Sorry, honey, I’ve got to go. I’m all messy.” I finished by scooping up a big dollop of cake batter with my index finger.
Without a reply, Emerson giggled and hung up as Echo came to a halt right beside me, his brow hitched in an obscene arch. I turned full-bodied into his side, never taking my eyes off his as I raised my finger to my mouth.
Echo’s gaze tracked the movement, the tip of his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. But as the cake batter hit my tastebuds, my throat spasmed in warning. I must have missed an ingredient somewhere, cause something was definitely off. Unable to hold back, I began to dry retch right over Echo’s exposed chest. Nothing came out but the sound, and the action alone was deplorable.
Echo stood frozen until his features twisted into full-blown amusement, genuine laugher spilling out of him as he proceeded to whack me on the back.
I tried to manoeuvre out of his hold, but he stopped my retreat by grabbing my hips and hoisting me on top of the bench, pushing between my parted thighs.
Echo leant over the sink, poured a glass of water and brought the edge to my lips. I drank the offer, diluting the sweet, tangy aftertaste down my throat as I wiped the batter from around my mouth.
“You missed a spot,” Echo said.
“Where? It’s disgusti?—”
Echo cut off my words by running his wet tongue from the bottom of my chin all the way up to the corner of my lips, where he gave a little suction. The sensation was acutely overwhelming, the caress inducing a moan to escape up my throat.
“Tastes delicious to me,” he said, voice husky and all the way fucking sexy.
My tormentor remained a mere inch away, his arms anchored on either side of my hips, barricading me in with raw flesh and muscle.
When he was that close, my conflicted feelings and thoughts were hard to reconcile.
“Who are you trying to poison?” he asked, his eyes bouncing over the mess of ingredients that stained the entire kitchen.
“I was making a cake for Micah. It’s her birthday soon.”
“Did you intend on killing her?”
I shoved against his glistening pecs, which only made me want to sink my fingers deeper. He didn’t retreat, instead pushing closer.
“Nope. Just the one person right now,” I snarked.
He chuckled, soon sobering as his stare penetrated into me. Ever so slowly, as if testing for consent, Echo raised his palm to cup my cheek.
“You haven’t changed your face since being here.”
My lids narrowed into slits as his fingers skimmed against my jaw. “I’m still healing. I can’t change without risking my wound reopening.”
Echo continued to caress down my throat, ignoring the fact that I was rendered useless because of him.
“That’s a shame. I would have been willing to break my last rule and fuck you again if you were able to change that mask,” he said with a smug, cocky smirk. My teeth clenched together as my hand flew upward to slap him clean across the face. He caught my wrist before I could make contact and tsked, his toxic breath blowing over me. “Or, I’d be willing to close my eyes and think of someone else, if you ask me nicely?—”
THWACK.