58. Vesper #2
I’d put my Bloodsense Fang up for the Boiler King, but I need it now.
I drag it from my inventory the same time as I leap to the side, just barely missing the swipe of Stryker’s claws, but it puts me within reach of the Boiler King.
The Minor Boss swings at me, his large fist narrowly missing my face and instead pulling a few hairs out that get caught in his gears.
I ignore the tiny pinpricks of pain to instead roll over to Havoc.
“He’s an Ascendant,” Havoc says. “Tier Five, clearly.”
“What’s that mean for us?” I ask him.
“It means we’re in trouble,” Havoc admits.
His power snaps out and wraps around Stryker, wrapping him up with golden rope.
Stryker laughs and Havoc suddenly slumps, his power blinking out temporarily as Stryker drinks from him.
Havoc snarls and hits the ground, but he’s back up again before I can even reach to help him up.
Which is good, because I have only a second to move to the right, avoiding Stryker’s outstretched hand.
The move separates Havoc and me again, and Stryker follows after me, not even bothering to pay any attention to the Warden.
“What the fuck is your problem with me?” I snarl at the Leech, keeping distance between us.
“Problem?” he repeats, laughing. “I don’t have a problem with you, Beastie. I have an obsession.” He sniffs deeply, like he’s smelling me on the air. “You tasted so divine in the Shatterlands. I need to know if you still taste just as good now that you’ve leveled up.”
“Would you leave me alone if I gave you a taste?” I ask him.
He chuckles. “I won’t stop at just a taste,” he admits. “I’ll drain you dry, desperate to have just a little more.”
“That seems fucked up,” I point out. “To kill your obsession.”
He shrugs. “I will not apologize for my nature.”
I’d watched him drain just a little bit from Havoc without touching him, but he doesn’t do that with me. It seems to be the chase that keeps him going, that makes him hold back. He wants to touch me to drain me. He wants to sip from me while I’m in his arms.
Which gives me an advantage.
My eyes flick to Havoc where he stalks Stryker from behind and I shake my head almost imperceivably. He blinks and then seems to realize what I had. Stryker isn’t draining me. He’s chasing.
Havoc nods and lingers back. He tips up his chin and touches his neck.
I frown and back away from Stryker as he pushes me toward the catwalk, separating me from the others. I let him. If I’m separated, it means they’re safe.
“This does not seem like a good idea,” Svetlana murmurs. “We are in danger, Umnitsa.”
“Trust me,” I breathe.
“I do,” she says. “Like sixty percent.”
Havoc touches his neck again and wraps a hand around it, trying to tell me something. At my confused expression, he throws up his hands and points at Locke, then at his neck, then does a little shimmy and flutters his eyelashes. It’s a move that shocks me so much, I stop moving.
“What?” I say, flabbergasted.
“The fucking collar!” Havoc snarls. “Fucking hell!”
Oh. Oh!
“Pretty, pretty, Beastie,” Stryker coos as he follows me onto the catwalk. “Let me have a taste. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“You’ll have to catch me first,” I purr back at him, before I turn and start to run.
“Oh,” he breathes, “I like this.”
I turn to the right when the catwalk opens in a four-way crossing as I sprint away from the Leech.
I open my inventory as I run, pop my Fang away, before I drag out the collar and shove it into my pocket.
If I’m going to get it around his neck, I’m going to have to get close.
And the only way to do that is to get caught.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Svetlana says. “Or else we are going to die. I do not want to die. I have not even beheaded a human man yet.”
“We’re not dying,” I reassure her. “But . . . we are going to take a hit to make sure we don’t.”
She sighs. “I am prepared.”
I look over my shoulder and don’t see Stryker. For this to work, he needs to think he’s caught me. I can’t run into his arms. He’d be suspicious, though something tells me he wouldn’t care enough to turn me away.
“Here, Leechy, Leechy, Leechy,” I call. “I bet it would please you to know I dreamed about you.”
“You did?” he purrs, appearing from my right and scaring the shit out of me. I immediately bolt to my left, springing away from him. “Did you fuck me in this dream?”
“I killed you in it,” I say instead. “I cut your head right off.”
He laughs. “Kinky. I like it.” I glance over my shoulder to find him gone again. “I so enjoy this game, Beastie,” he sighs.
He appears in front of me, dropping down from the pipes. Eyes widening, I slide to a stop and turn, sprinting back the way I’d come.
“But,” he continues, disappearing again, “I yearn to taste you more than I yearn for this chase.”
I round a corner and slam right into his chest. Before I can bounce back, his arms come around me, gripping me firmly.
“Wait!” I cry as he leans down.
“Why?” he purrs. “I’ve waited long enough.”
“I lied!” I say, scrambling for something to allow me enough time to put the collar on him. If he sees me doing it, he’ll stop me.
He pauses. “About what, Beastie?” he asks, curious.
“I didn’t kill you in the dream,” I breathe, thinking fast. “I . . . I . . . we kissed.”
The slow grin that pulls at his lips tells me it’s working. “Oh?”
I nod frantically. “I woke up so wet,” I say. “Dripping.”
His chest rumbles with a growl. “Did you soak the bedsheets because of me?”
“I did,” I say. “I made such a mess.”
“As you should,” he groans. “Perhaps I shall keep you alive long enough to taste how you weep between these thighs for me.”
I moan, tipping my head back. “I just . . . before you drain me, I just want to know what it’s like.”
“What what’s like?” he purrs, drawing me closer. “Fucking me?”
“Kissing you,” I moan. “Please. Just one kiss.”
His eyes grow hooded. “I’m a Leech, Beastie. A kiss will turn deadly.”
“I know,” I breathe. “I know.”
His hand slides up my body, tracing my skin, making my breathing erratic. Funny thing is, I don’t even have to pretend to be turned on. I am. Which makes me a fucking idiot, but it does make this more convincing.
“It would be my pleasure,” he murmurs. His hand cradles the back of my skull and he leans down toward me.
I think I prepare myself for the kiss. One of my hands rests against his chest. My other one is in my pocket wrapped around the collar.
But when his lips touch mine, for a moment, I forget what I’m doing.
Fireworks explode behind my eyes and I moan, sinking into the kiss fully.
I shouldn’t be surprised that Stryker is a good kisser.
He’s all charisma and liquid seduction. He has to be to lure his prey, but it almost shuts my brain function down.
Until I feel the barest sip of my life force.
“Vesper,” Svetlana hisses, interrupting my brain fog.
I trail my hand from his chest up to his shoulder, resting it there. I pull my other hand out of my pocket and carefully move it upwards as Stryker moans and kisses me deeper. He sips again and my legs grow weak.
I’m running out of time.
The collar is big, too big for his neck, but that just makes it easier for me to get it in position without him feeling anything resting against him. I moan deeply into his mouth and his hand sinks down to my ass, pressing me against the hard cock in his trousers.
My fingers fumble with the buckle, and then I loop it, but I still have to fasten it completely.
Stryker breaks the kiss, but doesn’t move away. “Exquisite,” he pants. “I need . . . I need you,” he rasps. “I need to sink into your sweet cunt.”
His hands move to the fastening of my trousers just as I fasten the collar completely.
The soft sucking sensation at the edges of my consciousness disappears immediately and Stryker stumbles back with wide eyes, dropping me onto the catwalk.
I hit it with an oomph, my body too weak to react fast enough to catch myself.
I’m panting, my lungs screaming for air, my body screaming for energy, as I stare up at him.
I shove my hair out of my face and watch as Stryker reaches up and wraps his hands around the collar, tugging.
It doesn’t budge. It doesn’t even stretch.
“What is this?” he hisses, jerking harder. “What have you done to me?”
I grin and drag myself to my feet slowly. Dizziness overcomes me for a few seconds and I have to brace myself against the railing to let it fade. Once it does, I stomp toward him on heavy feet to poke him in the chest. He touches his chest like it hurts him. “Suck on that, asshole,” I snarl.
“Got it!” Locke shouts, victoriously form somewhere else. “The Boiler King is down!”
I swipe the notification away on my interface so it doesn’t block my view. I need to keep him in my sight. I need to make sure he doesn’t attack even if he’s weak.
I flash my teeth at Stryker. “So is the Leech.”
Surprisingly, he smiles back.