29
THE FIXER
“You know the rules,” I pressed my palm to her shoulder, then let my fingers feel every notch of the spine down her back, “no moving, no talking.”
Her legs shook as she was on her knees, her face down in the messy sheets covering her head.
I pinched the clasps of the bodice, exposing the skin at the curve of her back.
My hips pressed against hers from behind, my other hand flat under her abdomen to keep her bottom half elevated. I unclasped the bodice at the neck with my teeth, a shiver enticing my appetites.
When she squirmed, a muffled whimper.
I pulled the sheets covering her face tightly from the back of her head, the outline of her facial features more clear from the tautness of the fabric.
“Quiet.”
I leaned back when I released her, sitting back on my heels on the bed as I lifted the skirts.
The large cilice encircled both her thighs. Every movement cut into the soft flesh as it held her legs together. Even the slightest reaction could result in the barbs burying deeper into the skin.
There was something about the modesty hiding such gruesome offerings of penance that touched on very specific tastes of mine. The plain black dress was completely opaque, everything covered from neck, sleeves down to the wrist, skirts long enough to please a priest.
The white fabric over her head completed the picture.
Almost.
My hands cupped her backside, smoothing down her legs before I touched the metal pieces.
She flinched at every slight brush of my fingertips over the skin.
I dragged two fingers between her labia, spreading them to reveal the succulent coral skin.
The wetness dripped down her leg. I leaned forward and kissed below the cilice, then dragged my tongue over it, tasting the blood mixed with her own arousal before I stopped just below her cunt.
Every exhale against her skin made her squirm.
I wrapped my mouth around the opening, sucking before my tongue slipped inside. She leaned back against my mouth at the expense of the soft skin of her thighs, blood streaking down her leg.
A muffled moan. Someone isn’t following instructions.
I removed my mouth and got on my knees behind her, leaning over with my hand on the back of her neck. “I said no noise,” I hissed.
“Fuck off!” Mary yelled, tugging the sheets from her head, the waves of her brunette hair breaking the illusion. “Ether!”
I clicked my tongue against my teeth, unhooking the cilice from her legs when she used the stop word.
Mary rolled onto her back, the most sour expression as she bent her legs to avoid the blood smearing on the sheet.
I bunched her skirts up her legs, leaning down to flatten my tongue against the wounds to close them.
“Couldn’t get into it today?” she asked.
I shrugged, holding my hands out to her.
“We could try something different.” Mary took my hands and hoisted herself up on her knees, slipping off the bed.
I sat at the edge, digging in my pocket for a loose cigarette.
She stood with her back to me, waiting.
With the cigarette hanging loose in my mouth, I unclasped her bodice down her neck, patting her hip when I was finished.
Mary turned on her heel, plucking the cigarette from my mouth and taking it for herself. She leaned over me to dig out the mechanical lighter in my pocket, lighting the cigarette in front of me.
As she blew the smoke in my face, I took a deep inhale with closed eyes.
“You seem depressed.” Mary slipped the black bodice off her torso, unclasping the matching skirt as she changed.
I took the cigarette back, taking a deep inhale. “I’m distracted.”
“Clearly,” she said, raising a brow, “or you’re too pent up.”
“What does it matter?”
“You can’t keep pretending.” She crossed her arms.
I slouched a little, resting my hands on her hips mindlessly. “I’m working through it.”
“It doesn’t seem healthy. All fantasies degrade with time.” Mary searched my face for a reaction. “If you miss Edith—”
“How are you and Rebecca?” I asked, taking an even deeper pull of the cigarette.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“That’s whose tongue you pretend is mine—”
“I’ll remember these taunts the next time you make me wear a nurse smock,” she said, her lip pulled to a sneer.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked mockingly. “Do I at least get a meal?”
“No.” Her word was final.
I groaned, falling back until my head hit the mattress.
She crawled onto my lap, hands on my chest as she stared down at me.
I tucked my arms behind my head, closing my eyes.
“Rebecca and I are doing just fine, since you asked.”
“But she doesn’t know that?”
“It’s a bit soon.”
“I say this because I’m curious, not to be cruel.
” I opened my eyes to see the dark-haired girl looking down at me.
Her eyes were so large, the dark blue giving the illusion of an affectionate cat.
“How do you think it will go if you admit your affections and she rejects you because the sight of you is painful enough, let alone being intimate with the spitting image of her dead lover?”
“You are saying it to be cruel.” She took the cigarette and put it out on my bare chest.
I hissed, settling once the burn faded. “I’m only thinking about the complications. She may have feelings for you, but moving anywhere past platonic might invite unwanted comparisons.”
“I won’t entertain this conversation because you’re avoiding your own coping,” she pointed out.
“And that’s why we work so well together,” I teased.
“When I thought about it, I didn’t think she’d be your type.”
“I don’t have a preference.”
“Men or women?”
“Neither are disqualifying factors.”
“What about Sidney?”
I shifted my hips under her to get comfortable. A shrug is all I offered her as an answer.
“Isn’t he neither one nor the other?” She smirked. “If it’s not a factor, why not somewhere in between? Nonconforming?”
“It’s none of my business, I don’t know.”
“Hypothetically.” She began tying her hair back into a neat updo with a ribbon.
“As a medical professional, he confounds me. As a person, I can admit I’m curious,” I said.
“So given the opportunity . . . ?” She grinned.
“I’m a man of discovery” is all I said.
“Interesting.” She seemed satisfied enough to smile and get off me.
She grabbed her stockings, shimmying them on and tying her garters. “Can you go another month without me or are you going to be worse when I come all this way to visit again?” She tossed my shirt at me.
I caught it and sat up, pulling my arms through the sleeves. “Depends.”
“So short with me today,” she mockingly pouted. “What happened to the cheeky cruelty of Mr. Novikov?”
“Perhaps next time you’ll come at a time much less arduous.”
“I will see you at dinner, then?”
“Possibly.”
“Then goodbye, for now,” she teased, slipping on her heels.
The last sound being the door fitting back into its frame and the dainty clicks of shoes down the hall.
I lay back on my bed to stare at the ceiling, digging for another cigarette, though the efforts were in vain. My quarters were a mess. Staff didn’t touch the rooms of the basement, barely allowed bedfellows, and not nearly enough of my own time was spent in this dusty hole.
My bedroom was located in the servants’ quarters. Everyone had their own room, newer staff shared, more established ones earned their solitude.
It didn’t bother me much. Though, if I knew how to relax or were home enough to use my room, perhaps I’d prefer something upstairs. One of the nice things down here is you could smell everything from the kitchen. Great for the senses, but not for the stomach.
The past year had shaken me. I look back at myself and wonder how I could have possibly predicted the situation I find myself in now.
From lone wolf to responsible for a pack, from respected Fixer to disgraced by society along with Silas.
And finally, having to save the woman who permanently maimed me, at the fear her death may mean my head.
Frontier medicine and at-home surgery was not impossible, but it wasn’t my specialty.
We stitched her up right there in the lab.
It wasn’t her head wound that worried me, it was the reason she still had seizures.
Many who turn lose their chronic ailments.
Alina, as always, seemed to be an exception.
Unless this was our sign to escalate efforts.
That level of unsterile procedure could never have been done on a human. In this case, she may be glad she was already dead once over.
My hand trembled as I rubbed my face, my scarred skin stinging as I pressed against my eye. I wasn’t positive I was even seeing out of it anymore, considering the slightly more limited peripheral on that side.
I was being punished.
For all the havoc I’d created in my lifetime, I was paying back the time with interest. This was my life, a new station, a new mindset, and a new set of goals that were equivalent to freezing the sun.
All will be well by the end of the Appraisal, or all will come to an end.
Time won’t just tell, she’ll scream.