“Soraya?”
She sways a little on her feet, her eyelids heavy as if she’s turning sleepy. “I’m sorry, Mark.”
Astonishment lengthens his face, his slimy lips parting. He can’t believe she just admitted to something he wouldn’t have believed in a million years. Of course, the smell is strong to his fine serpent senses, and yet he knows Soraya should look completely ravished. Instead, she stands there by his chair in her spotless two-piece suit, the black skirt and jacket hugging her long, willowy frame, her red lipstick perfect on her thin lips. Not a spot on her, not a smear. This isn’t a woman who’s just had sex, but then again, why would she lie to him? He trusts her completely, and now he’s confused as fuck.
“Soraya, are you sure you just—”
She turns her head to look at him, and it’s enough to make him stop. “Yes, I’m sure. The truth is Tristan and I have been sleeping with each other in secret for days. And, even though it’s very soon, I think I want to make our liaison official.”
“Mark,” I say calmly, “You did say I could take her—” I don’t say ‘test drive’, but I see that he understands.
“Well, I sure hope you had your fucking fun.” It’s almost amusing, seeing him lose it like this. I’m glad that, during my stay here, I had the chance to see how my henchman of old ticks, what gets him on edge, what his threshold is before he lashes out in fury. And he’s pretty damn close to lashing out right now, not because he believes I fucked Soraya, but because he doesn’t.
“And we’ll have more of it while we’re on the mission together, won’t we?” Soraya says, walking over to my side, and hooking her arm around mine. She’s a powerful serpent, and she’s getting a grip on herself, even though my influence is still inside her mind. That will make her play along, but when she regains enough control she’ll want something in return.
Still, I must say that, if Isolde wanted some kind of revenge, it was genius of her to get Soraya here before Mark came back, explaining the smell of sex that way. But she didn’t think about Soraya catching the scent, too—or, wait a minute, did she want the woman to know? Did she want to hurt her?
“Whatever,” Mark says, heading out of the study. “Just send the cleaning woman to wipe the smell of your fucking from my fucking desk.”
As soon as he’s out, Soraya unhooks her arm from mine, and turns to look at me.
“Listen, and listen carefully. I will go through with this lie—which is pretty damn obvious, if you ask me—but this is my price.” She stares at me from under her eyebrows, trying to be seductive, her forked tongue slipping between her lips. “You’ll marry me for real, Tristan DeKnight.”
I keep cool and detached. “Why would you even want to have me? I’m a vampire, you’re a serpent. We’re natural enemies, it would be an odd pairing to say the least.”
“Yes, but it would make a fantastic alliance between serpents and vampires, and I think such an alliance is in Mark’s best interest. He knows that, too, he won’t be opposed.” Her tone goes lower, her eyes becoming more intense. “And I’d really love to have you between my legs.”
I press my lips together. She’s almost as repulsive as Mark. I can’t imagine having sex with a serpent—unless it involves humiliating and debasing her, like I did with all women before Isolde.
“All right.” I keep my tone even, detached, making sure that my face doesn’t show the repulsion I feel. “When this mission is over, we’ll make this official. And we’ll share a bed. But until then I need to focus and, for that, I need to refrain. What happened just now with—” No, I can’t say her name, “—with her, it was the last release before I put all my focus into the mission.”
“I don’t know that it has to be a bed.” She grins her large grin with the big teeth that I know would drip slime in her shifter form. Only imagining having that mouth on mine makes my stomach turn. “And I don’t know that it has to be after the wedding.”
I lean to her, making sure she can smell Isolde on my mouth. “It is important to me. I don’t sleep with women I respect before I make it official in some way.”
“Oh, you only give pleasure to women you don’t respect, probably don’t even like.”
“I have a strange fetish. I use women like dirty whores. It’s the only thing that turns me on.”
She laughs. Now that she shows her true face I can tell she loves using and humiliating people, too, so I won her over with what I just said. “All right. But I have one special request.”
“And that is.”
Her gaze darkens and, for a moment, all of her vile nature shows in it. I could sense that nature from the start behind her reserved façade.
“On our wedding day,” she continues like an evil incantation, “As I’m wearing a glamorous wedding gown, I’ll have you make Isolde kneel in front of us. Then I want you to fuck her mouth like she means nothing, like she’s trash, filling her throat with your cum. I want her still wiping it off her chin along with her tears while we say our vows.”
The hairs on my arms stand on end. I could slit her throat right now, but this evil woman deserves much worse. I’ve been a people observer for too long, it’s my job to understand their thinking, their motivations, and Soraya now is an open book to me.
She has a fetish for humiliating women. Good women, loving mothers, women who nurse children. She likes fucking men other women have crushes on, having the women watch or, like in this case, the other way around.
I’m afraid I won’t be able to control my face anymore, showing that I saw right through her, displaying the contempt I feel. But then the door opens, and the alligator announces it’s time to get ready. I turn around on my heels, avoiding that Soraya sees my face, and storm out of Mark Serpaint’s study.
I can feel the alligator’s jealous stare behind me as I walk down the hallway. I know Soraya has been sleeping with him, probably in the absence of something better, but to him, their liaison is more than just sex.
Isolde
I’M PROUD OF MYSELF for not having chewed on my fingernails these past two weeks. No, I haven’t fretted about Tristan and Soraya, but it would be a lie to say it was because I was strong.
No.
It was because of the connection I feel with him. The last time I used him in Mark’s study we inversed the roles—he’s the one fretting about my feelings now. What Tristan and I shared with each other, both physically and emotionally, connected us on deep levels. I can feel that, even though before he left for the Western Mountains he was still in control of his emotions, now he’s tossing and turning at night, needing me in ways he doesn’t even understand—because he’s never experienced something like this before.
Finally, I leave Mark behind as the train moves off towards the Western Mountains. The cars in the back are filled with serpents that will spread out in the villages from the area, but it doesn’t matter. I feel free.
This train ride is the first breath of freedom I’ve had ever since I was forced to marry that bastard. It’s a long journey to take, but I spend as much of it as I can with my head out the window, breathing in the fresh air, especially after we enter the mountain region.