55. Vesper #3
About halfway up the building, I’m even angrier that Locke is carrying the woman instead of me.
I’d have never let him carry me, but still.
I’m fucking annoyed. Havoc walks silently behind me, his heavy footfalls echoing in the stairwell.
Stevie floats silently, as if not entirely sure what to say.
By the time we reach the top, I’m really fucking peeved, but when we reach the landing to the penthouse, I roll my shoulders and let my expression relax.
This won’t work if I snap and attack her.
Locke sets Polly on her feet gently and she ruffles his hair like a dog. “Good boy,” she coos and I tense for him. He certainly doesn’t. Her fucking audacity—
“Now, you’ll forgive me if I take some precautions,” she begins, her eyes sweeping our group. “All inventories will be locked.” She holds up a bracelet. “Don’t worry. I can take them off after.”
Locke immediately holds out his wrist and she wraps it around it before she turns to Havoc.
He raises his brow and then holds his wrist out.
She lingers as she ties it on him, trailing her fingers across his skin in a way I can tell he doesn’t like.
When she gets to me, she doesn’t spend nearly as much time, tying the simple string bracelet around my wrist and turning away.
“The Ophanim stays out here,” she says, pointing to Stevie.
“Oh my god,” Stevie says, and all of his eyes roll. “What a spoil sport! Just because I’m an angel doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy, like, watching sins.”
I glance at Stevie. “You gonna be okay waiting out here?”
Stevie turns to me. “Girl, be so for real right now.”
He’s right. Stevie has been this hovering force around us that everyone else seems to avoid. He’d taken direct hits from the yeti without any sort of reaction and has yet to show any sign of weakness. I’m certain at this point that there isn’t much here that could hurt him.
“Just be careful,” I tell him.
“Awww,” Stevie says. “You care about me.” The next time he speaks, it’s not out loud.
It echoes in my mind with a thousand voices that makes me wince.
“I should warn you that the room you are about to enter is outside of the safehouse parameters. I should also warn you that Polly will not be unarmed inside.”
My lips curl. “Of course, I care about you,” I say out loud, pretending as if he hadn’t just spoken words that nearly make my ears bleed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Stevie giggles. “That ain’t much, Girl! Be not afraid! Be a cunt!” And then he floats away. “Be careful, player. I do so enjoy your company.”
I stare after the insanely conflicting creature that is Stevie before looking back at the others. I smile. “Shall we begin?”
Polly looks absolutely devilish as she pushes her door open and walks inside. The three of us follow her, but I’m the last one inside. I gape at the interior, all done up in red. Red walls, red furniture, red tile. It’s so red, it throws a reflection across everything.
Like we’re back in Dross, I realize. Like we’d never left.
The door closes behind us and locks and it takes everything in me not to flinch. I hope Locke knows what he’s doing because without our inventories, we have no weapons. We’re at the whims of this woman, and there are no safehouse safeguards in place. I don’t know if they realize that or not.
Polly shrugs off her fur and tosses it over one of the couches before she levels those coal-lined eyes on me. “You’re going to sit in that chair right there,” she says, pointing with a sharp nail to a red chair in the corner. “And you’re going to watch as I make them lick me.”
I move over to the chair and take a seat.
“Jokes on you. I’m going to enjoy myself,” I say as I sprawl out on the chair, spreading my legs so that they hang on either side of the arms. With my eyes locked on her, I run two fingers along my tongue and then slide my fingers down my stomach to the edge of my trousers.
I slip my hand beneath the waistband and rub myself above the actual spot, goading her without actually doing anything.
“Your move,” I groan, playing the part and tipping my head back.
Anger flashes across her face and she grabs a fistful of Locke’s shirt, jerking him toward her to press her lips against his. He tenses and then realizes what he has to do. He wraps his arms around her, dragging her close to kiss her aggressively back. Her eyes are closed. His eyes stay open.
My stomach flips, but I keep my expression blank even as I meet Havoc’s eyes. He’s watching me carefully, his eyes trailing over my body, down to where my hand disappears into my waistband.
Polly reaches for Havoc and drags him to her, pressing his face into her neck from behind. Havoc grabs her waist aggressively, looks up to meet my eyes, and then kisses her neck. Polly moans loudly, too loudly, panting as if things have already gotten hot and heavy.
She releases Locke’s lips to turn toward Havoc, seeking out his.
Unlike Locke, he doesn’t play her game. He jerks her head to the side and bites her neck, testing the parameters.
Biting would be seen as an act of violence.
When nothing happens, when he doesn’t disappear, his eyes meet mine and I see that feralness again.
“I’m in charge here,” Polly growls as she grabs at him.
Havoc laughs. “You thought you could fuck a legend any way you want to?” He grips her arms and holds them together.
“I’m a legend, too,” she growls and then jerks her arms from his hold. “And I’m a higher Tier than you.”
His eyes crinkle in amusement. “A Tier Four Artificer isn’t anything special.”
She bares her teeth at him. “Take off your clothes, Warden.”
“Or what?” he goads.
“I’ll make you,” she spits, stepping closer to poke him in the chest.
He leans down and looks her in the eyes. “Make me,” he challenges.
She produces a knife from somewhere and presses it against his throat. “Don’t make me cut you, Havoc.”
“We’re in a safehouse,” he presses, goading her into acting. He raises his brow cockily, the expression so annoying, it makes me want to hit him and it’s not even directed my way.
To prove her power, she nicks him, drawing a drop of blood on his neck. He doesn’t even flinch, but it does exactly what he intended.
It shows us that the parameter truly don’t reach here, letting Locke know, and Polly’s lust is going to be her downfall.
The only way to remove those collars is by Polly releasing them .
. . or she dies. I know which one I’m all in for.
I know which one Locke intended. Polly was never going to leave this room.
“What a clever plan,” Cipher purrs in my mind. “The Bone Breaker has some intelligence, after all.”
“Are we going to get on with the show or what?” I ask from my chair.
Polly jerks her head toward me with a snarl. “Quiet, bitch, or I’ll make one of them slit your throat.”
I smile, and it pisses her off. She releases Havoc to storm toward me, but before she can reach me, Locke’s arms are around her body.
He locks his arms around hers, his hands clamping together as he squeezes.
Polly shrieks and pushes against him, but whatever her Glitch is, she’s not stronger than a Tier Two Bone Breaker.
That much is clear. She fights against his hold, struggling.
Locke isn’t as agile as he used to be either, though.
A weakness of his Glitch. She suddenly bends her knees and ducks out of his arms, moving quickly even in the sparkly dress. She holds the knife out toward Locke.
“You don’t go after her,” Locke orders, still playing the part. “She watches, or you don’t get off. The choice is yours.”
Polly huffs and points her knife at him. “Take off your clothes then.”
Locke raises a brow at her before he tugs his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor.
Havoc stalks around them as Locke reaches for the fastening of his trousers and kicks his boots off.
He slowly, so slowly, unbuttons each of the three buttons, revealing skin and a light smattering of hair leading downward.
“More,” Polly orders.
Locke’s eyes meet mine, and in his eyes, I see the request. Don’t think I want this. Don’t believe I want this. If you say stop, I stop.
I nod, just enough for him to understand, and slowly slide my hand down the side of the chair, to the metal hidden in the seam.
A little to the right, Player, Stevie says in my head. Yes, there.
I smile as Locke pushes down his trousers, leaving him bare before Polly. His cock isn’t hard, not until he looks over at me, not until he strokes himself for me alone.
Polly rushes forward and wraps her fingers around his cock, and this time, Locke does tense. He can’t hide it, and Polly seems to revel in it. I feel his discomfort immediately, and his disgust with the entire situation. If I was uncertain how he felt about this woman before, I’d know now.
“Did Mother Remainder touch you like this?” she purrs. “Did she fuck you good? I’ve always thought her boys who came through here were all weaklings, but not you.” She strokes him again. “She chose differently with you.”
I stand from the chair slowly, making sure I make no noise. Locke doesn’t look toward me, not wanting to call attention to my movements. Polly turns, but Havoc growls and tugs his own shirt over his head to distract her from turning around.
“I’m going to fuck that throat,” Havoc tells her. “Just so I can shut you up.”
Polly snarls back at him as I move closer, taking the softest steps. Svetlana presses against my neck, quiet for once, urging me forward. I can feel her disdain for this woman. I can feel her bloodthirst as it flows through me, just as my own flows through her.
I take another step and the floor creaks. Polly whips toward me and her eyes find the blade in my hand, her blade. She snarls and launches at me, and all hell breaks loose.