Chapter 19
Snake
Turk reeked of parched earth and scorched vegetation.
Wind whipped the sand into small tornadoes across the barren landscape, stinging Snake’s eyes no matter how fast he blinked.
No living soul was out in this heat. He imagined them tucked inside their shuttered houses, relaxing in front of fans, sipping cold beverages.
Bored out of their skulls.
He traversed a dry riverbed until he found the mouth of a cramped, hand-dug cave. How many times had he walked down this secret passageway?
Back in the day, I sort of fancied Ormond. How things have changed.
While Snake was freelancing as an assassin for hire, he’d met Ormond at Vibrations, Merona’s most popular gay bar. One night, while drunk on flaming whiskey bombs, he noticed a smiling young buck on the adjacent bar stool.
“You look like the cat who ate the canary,” Snake had said.
“Actually, the cat ate me.” He leaned in. “There’s a bloke in room seven with a velvet mouth and a thirsty gullet. Tell him Bertrand sent you.”
Snake tossed his money on the bar. “Thanks, mate. Next round’s on me.”
Once he’d found the right stall, Snake coughed.
“Who’s there?”
“Bertrand sent me.”
A finger wagged through the glory hole. Seconds later, Snake was balls deep in an eager mouth. When finished, the man on the other side slipped his calling card through the hole.
“The Divine Mr. O. Find me at Vibrations, The Silver Sword, and Hairy Peaches.” Snake reached for his wallet. “How much do I owe you for the pleasure, mate?”
“I don’t do it for money. I do it for the love of cock.”
“Maybe we can hook up again. If you enjoyed the way my dick tickled your tonsils, you’ll love the way it tickles your ass.”
“Scintillating proposition, but I prefer the anonymity of the glory hole.”
“When you’re feeling less shy, look me up. Name’s Snake.”
Years later, after he’d given up on killing strangers for money, Snake worked part-time for a pirate crew captained by his friend Scully. They were at The Silver Sword, drinking Mai Tais, when a stunning bloke walked in.
“Oof. What a beauty,” Scully said. “Ormond Caine. If we weren’t both power bottoms, I’d ask him out.”
“He does look like a man in need of a hard knob to ride. I believe I fit the bill.”
All amber eyes and copper locks, Ormond was a dish best served upside down. His curvy backside alone made Snake salivate. He’d followed Ormond into a back room and had him on his knees after 30 seconds of conversation. Mid-blow, Snake recognized his technique.
“I believe I’ve fucked this mouth before.”
Ormond paused. “You have. Now let’s see if your cock really can tickle my ass.” Britches cast aside, he bent over the sink. “Pound me.”
After eating Ormond’s ass until he cried with joy, Snake fucked three orgasms out of him, leaving the young man breathless and giddy.
“That was the best fuck of my life. I’ll go mad if I don’t get a regular dose.”
Their lusty liaisons became a weekly thing. After one close call too many, Ormond built a secret tunnel behind his house.
“You can sneak in through my closet, Snake. And I won’t have to worry about one of my in-laws catching us together.”
“What about the Mrs.?”
“She’ll be in the guest room.” Ormond smiled. “With one of her many lovers.”
Standing outside that very closet now, Snake felt nostalgic and nauseated.
He’d tired of the whiny and vapid Ormond quickly.
On the cusp of his own successful pirate career, Snake moved on to more interesting lovers until he found a man who at first showed no interest in him at all: Sugar Constantine.
Shaking Sugar out of his head, he opened the door to Ormond’s bedchambers. Judging by the two motionless lumps under the covers and the static-filled soundtrack of snoring, his former lover hadn’t put much thought into his plan.
Oh, Ormond. Once a simpleton, always a simpleton.
Snake found the book right where he’d expected it. With the large volume tucked under his arm, he hustled back to the ship, stymied when he couldn’t find it. “Sugar,” he hissed into his phone. “There’s a flaw in this plan,”
“I’ll turn on the ‘coast is clear’ setting. You should see a small pool of fake poison swamp gas. The hatch is right above it.”
Snake beamed with pride. His crew was whip-smart, and Ormond was in way over his head. He went up the hatch, ditched the glove, and entered the foyer, where the boys waited.
“Easier than taking sweets from a wee babe.” He set the book on Sugar’s lap. “Let’s see how many positions you can memorize before we get to Petulia.” He turned to Horatio and Gunner. “Ready for this next part?”
“I’m not sure,” Horatio said. “When things go this smoothly, it’s a bad sign.”
“If we were dealing with someone else, I’d agree.” Sugar flipped a page and gasped. “Look, Snake. I’ll have to twist you into a pretzel, but worth it.” He showed the illustration to Gunner, who blushed like a ripe strawberry.
“Is that position even possible without some sort of pulley system?” he asked.
“Lemme see.” Sugar tipped the book at Horatio. “Wow. Can vampires levitate?”
Still chuckling, Snake told Seven to fly to Petulia. “Aye, Captain. Taking to the air in 3. Remember, the Marengo trees will be on the left.”
Leaning back on the bench, Snake pondered Horatio’s words. While this was an easy mission, the stakes were higher with Gunner along—even a small mishap could be devastating. He hit the intercom.
“Keep your eyes on the security cams, boys. Just in case.”
Seven’s voice crackled back. “What’s the code word if you need us?”
“Attica,” Horatio said.
The Frances vibrated as she passed through Petulia’s gateway. While Horatio and Gunner strapped on guitars, Sugar flipped through illustrations. “We can always steal it again.”
“I’ve already gotten enough ideas.” Sugar handed the book to Snake. “You might want to take up yoga.”
“Now who’s threatening who with a good time?” Snake winked at Sugar while he opened the hatch. The pungent smell of flowers filled the small space. Once outside, he led the way to the castle, mind distracted by the sexy poses.
“I can’t wait to see Princess Petal freak out when we give her this book,” Horatio said.
Sugar motioned to the front entrance. “The guards aren’t at their posts. That’s odd.”
“Off having a picnic, I’m sure.” Snake pounded his fist on the door, waited the appropriate amount of time, and knocked again. “Saul is taking longer than usual.”
“I’m sure no one expected us to show up this early,” Horatio said.
They pretended to wait a few minutes longer before loudly announcing they were heading home for wild sex.
Just thinking about how jealous Ormond probably felt in that moment filled Snake with untethered joy.
They strolled nonchalantly, eyes peeled for movement.
Right as they neared that specific grove of trees, a figure emerged from the shadows.
“Snake Vinter, it’s been years.” Ormond sneered. “I guess time hasn’t been kind. You look a bit... worn.”
“Please. I’m more dashing than ever. You, on the other hand, dress like a bloody fop.” Snake snickered over Ormond’s royal blue velvet jacket, lavender ruffled shirt, and purple suede boots. “And the hair! How long did it take to iron in all those curls?”
“My clothes are vintage. And fabulous.” Ormond pointed at Snake with the tip of a worn, rusty sword. “You have something of mine.”
“This old book?” Snake threw it at Ormond, barely missing his head. “We figured out your little ruse. Nice try, though.”
Ormond flinched but stood tall. “Right about the ruse, but wrong about the intentions.” He snorted. “I tricked you here in order to collect something much more valuable—a treasure you keep stealing from me!”
Sugar stepped forward. “I was never yours to steal, Ormond. I left of my own accord, which is what I suggest you do right now.”
“I love you more than life itself, but you keep returning to this two-bit whore!” He lowered his sword. “How many times do you plan to tear my heart asunder, Sugar? How many?”
Snake found it odd that Ormond was whining in present tense, as if Sugar had just left him last week. “Face it, Ormond, you’re a pathetic tosser.” Snake disarmed him easily. “Get away from my ship, or I’ll cut you open with your own blade.”
“Now!” Ormond screamed. His five crew members scrambled from behind bushes.
Three of them surrounded Snake, trapping his vulnerable neck between a triangle of razor-sharp blades, while the other two each grabbed one of Sugar’s arms. Ormond laughed in his usual, simpering fashion. “Who’s the tosser now?”
Sugar huffed. “You’re fucking kidding me.” He bent his knees, sprang straight up, and performed a perfect backflip, landing behind both rebels with a dagger in each hand.
Snake sucked in a breath.
“You motherfuckers want to dance? Let’s go!” Sugar shouted. Both men dropped their short swords and raised their hands. “That’s what I thought.”
Horatio raised his guitar, and a thunderous rumbling filled the air. Seconds later, the three rebels surrounding Snake stiffened and dropped to the ground. He bared his fangs at Ormond. “Now, you die.”
“Not tonight, vampire,” Ormond sneered.
Vampire must have been a code word. Once the second syllable left Ormond’s mouth, eight Reptilians leapt from the ship’s deck, while more rushed from behind. They crouched, weapons ready, as if waiting for his command.
Snake went numb from shock. Ormond couldn’t afford to pay Reptilians, which meant someone was financing him—and it had to be Meridian.
Bollocks. This is dire.
“Reptilians, Ormond? Not a good look for a pirate, bedding down with the enemy. What do you think of him now, Sugar?”
“A waste of time.” Sugar bent over and pretended to fuss with one of his boots, distracting Ormond’s crew, who stared as if he were a hot meal. “But a bigger waste of oxygen.”
“Set it to explode,” Snake whispered to Horatio.
Eyes locked on the target, he used one hand to turn the volume knob. Guitar god, indeed.