Chapter 19 - Tender and Unyielding
Tender and Unyielding
Tanisira’s threat is quick on the heels of his sermonising. “Keep wasting my time.”
He chuckles, low and dirty, before switching back to Tellurian. There must be at least one other person in there, but I can’t hear anyone else, not even the creaking of a shifting foot.
“It took some doing to get the meds you requested on such short notice, but you already knew how good I am, or you wouldn’t have come crawling back to me, isn’t that right?”
“How much?” Flat, unaffected words.
“What was it you used to call me? A piece of shit, wasn’t it?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Sit the fuck down,” the man roars.
There’s a thump, and I’m so desperately trying to make sense of what I heard that it almost makes me yelp. I slap a hand over my mouth, but nothing can be heard over the screeching of a chair being dragged across the floor.
“Touch me again, you’ll lose that hand, and I’ll make you eat it.”
I’ve never heard Tanisira say anything like that.
At this moment, with so much steel behind it, I believe that she would follow through on her promise.
Everything the disembodied voice had implied is zinging around in my head, and I can only focus on the most immediate problem.
Meds? Are they... for me? I recoil from the idea, but who else would Tanisira be trying to get medicine for?
What the hell is going on?
I press my ear into the wall—
“There you are.”
It’s soft, so soft that I almost miss it because I’m fixated on the confrontation.
I catch the rasp of words just in time to dodge a pale hand flying towards me: the troll from downstairs.
Unfortunately, my body’s ability to short-circuit at the drop of a hat is the one consistent thing in my life; whilst I avoid his grasp, I then tip into the wall like a bowling pin.
“Oh, fuck.” I breathe.
My assailant squints, suspicious. “You do speak Tellurian.”
I pay him no heed, instead trying to push my way past him. Any second now, someone’s going to come into this hallway, and if it’s Tanisira, I’m fucked. But the bastard stands his ground, and I bounce off his chest.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, get out of my fucking way,” I hiss. Panic blooms in my body, chewing at my gut and slicking my palms. I don’t want Tanisira to see me here. She cannot see me here.
The man slaps both hands against the wall and over my head, caging me in.
For a moment, it shocks me into stillness.
I stare as a wicked curve deforms his mouth.
I’ve been in a situation like this before, cornered by a man with big arms and a small brain; at the time, I panicked and froze.
I don’t panic this time. Instead, I lash out viciously with my foot, kicking him in the balls as hard as I can.
He stumbles back, howling and grabbing himself.
Before I can make a run for it, the door flies open.
Two men barrel out, weapons in hand, aimed at us.
I shriek, faced with both a gun and a knife.
Backing up rapidly almost lands me on my arse but I remain, unsteady, on my feet, though trembling from head to toe.
I’m still screaming even as the men turn towards my attacker, identifying him as the threat.
Heart pounding, lips mashed together, I start to edge towards the stairs. But I can’t make myself turn around and flee—turn my back on these men. A gun and a knife. Why is Tanisira consorting with people like this?
“Marlowe?”
Despite my instinct to run, I lurch to a stop.
My chest feels like it’s caving, and I can only stare back at Tanisira.
She has a second to stare at me, horrified, before another person steps out of the room, simultaneously blocking and crowding her.
Instantly, I know this is the face behind the voice.
Tanisira doesn’t cower, doesn’t even blink, but the moment he turns his attention to me, her expression ripples. Behind his back, she now looks worried.
“Who is this?” the man demands. He pins me with a glare. One eye’s brown, the other’s green, but he’s nothing short of terrifying. A savagely drawn tattoo curls down one side of his face, following the curve of a beard in stark contrast to his bald head. “Did you try to trick me, Myth?”
I have a visceral reaction to the quiet menace in his voice, goosebumps shivering along my body. His goons restrain my assailant, who stares at the strange-eyed man in something like fearful awe. Exploding into movement, the fool spins so quickly that he nearly slips out of the arms binding him.
“You should have said you had business with Ryker,” he barks at me.
Despite myself, the situation, a rage floods me. “As if we spoke,” I hiss back. “You fucking creep.”
And who is Ryker? The man with the deep voice? I look back at the newcomer. Nothing stands out except the veins in his arms. He’s not physically imposing, but he exudes a power that feels like being stuck in the crosshairs of a sniper rifle.
My nerves are frazzled, and it’s starting to physically hurt.
Ryker manoeuvres so he has both me and Tanisira in his sights, ignoring the men. “You know this woman?” It’s deceptively casual.
Tanisira, having smoothed her expression, eyes me disdainfully. “No. Thought it was someone else at first, is all.”
What—
“You’re lying. You know, I think we’re done here. Maybe contact Pomm, see what trash she can conjure up for you.”
A jolt shoots through Tanisira at this. Her eyes shutter. She takes a step forward, and it’s like watching a lioness prowl. I’ve never seen her like this. It’s chilling.
“Sounds like bullshit. Who else is going to pay the bloated fee you’ve quoted? Even you’ll struggle to offload those syringes.”
She is here for me. I try not to react; whatever angle she’s playing involves not knowing me.
Ryker laughs softly. “You underestimate my petty streak. You need something from me this time, but you’re doing a poor job of asking for it.”
“Let these guys go, and we can finish the deal.”
“I think I’d rather see what the girl has to say for herself,” Ryker says. “In fact, she looks like she could use a seat.” He pins me with a calculating look and gestures towards the room behind him. “After you, stranger.”
I hesitate. My hands shake, and my instinct is to disappear.
Tanisira steps in, literally, getting in his face without any warning. “I don’t have the patience for you, nor do I have the time to waste while you mess around with some gormless bystander.”
They’re nose to nose, and my throat tightens.
Red beads against my palms where my nails are pressed forcefully into them.
Suddenly, the cold shock of metal is against my neck.
I don’t jump, but only because all the blood seems to have rushed to my heart.
I bite back a whimper. Forcing myself to freeze, my eyes are wide as they meet Tanisira’s.
Her jaw clenches aggressively, but she manages to rip her gaze from me.
Ryker repeats his earlier gesture, bares his teeth in my direction. “As I said. After you.”
A breeze wends its way through the open window in the room.
I welcome it, pressed back into the chair and covered in sweat as I am.
The gun hasn’t left my skin for a second, and I’m intimately familiar with the imprint of it.
It smells like metal and something sharp, acrid.
My parents never brought their weapons home, but I’d pick up the same stench on their clothes whenever they came back from training.
These days, people don’t use the old-fashioned guns unless they’re trying to make a point.
I bite my lip hard to stop myself from spiralling.
This feels like a fever dream. It feels like a nightmare.
Across the room, Tanisira leans against the wall. With her arms crossed, she adopts a look of polite boredom. My gut twists violently every time I catch sight of her—it just looks so authentic—and every time I do, confusing words play in my mind.
Flesh. Trafficker. Greed.
Ryker sits on the edge of a ratty desk, having once again placed himself strategically.
He looks from me to Tanisira and back again, an indecipherable gleam in those alluring eyes.
His other goon left with the idiot from downstairs, so it’s four of us in a room so thick with tension that I’m choking on it.
“What were you doing up here?” he asks.
I blink at him, aware of how dry my mouth is, how hard I’m shaking. But Tanisira’s angle is obvious, and I need to work with it. I force myself to gather some semblance of control.
I clear my throat. “We snuck up here to make out. Didn’t think anyone was around.”
Ryker raises a sceptical eyebrow. “With that guy?”
I mimic a shrug. “I had a few drinks; he was nearby.” My voice trembles and I’m glad the gun is still nestled at the nape of my neck. Could anyone be expected to talk steadily in this situation?
“And him howling in pain, that was—what? A little foreplay?” He smirks, but there’s no amusement in his eyes whatsoever. My skin crawls, and I want to curl up into a ball. What happens if he decides he doesn’t believe me? Us?
I flash my own smirk at him, forcing myself to relax, even just a little, to back up my claims. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wanted a quick fumble, not what he was trying to push me into. I had a few drinks, but I’m not an idiot; I’m not sucking a rando’s dick in a dingy pub.”
This seems to give Ryker pause. He leans back, gaze skittering over my face in intense scrutiny. I keep my eyes on his, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, even as the man behind me adjusts his grip on the gun, pressing it harder into my spine.
Abruptly, Ryker asks, “What’s your name?”
“Samiran.”
It just fucking pops into my head and before I can even think about the madness, I’ve already said it. My gaze shoots to Tanisira just in time to see a truly bewildered look surge across her face, her hands twitching against her chest. I gulp.