Page 86 of Nocte
The door opens and a creature appears on the other end, garish and glaring and dressed in vibrant purple silk. It is a man. Or a woman. A creature beyond such limitations. It, whatever it is, leans against a doorframe, dressed in silk, its hair dark, blacker than midnight, eyes a piercing green.
This creature did not belong to Cassius. A brother or sister from another master. Another slaver. Another collection of broken doll-toys.
“From which corner of bloody hell did Mo find you?” He-she-it, murmurs, their eyes gleaming, fingers clenching the doorframe. Then they see my fae, and greedy hunger flashes across their gaze. No fear. Utter terror. They see her and shy back, hissing through glossy, perfect teeth. They see her, and their fangs spring from their sheaths, cutting the air.
Not to bite with.
To kill.
They see her, my pretty fae thing, and they want to destroy her. Crush her.
They fear her.
“Step toward me, brother,” they say, their voice gentle and fake. “Leave it behind. Yes, that is the way. Come toward me.”
Their green eyes beckon. Their voice beckons. For they are older than I am. Wiser. A brother in blood and knowledge. I should listen. Need to listen.
A new master. A better master than Cassius…
I let go of her, my greedy, corrupted fae. I let go of her, and the cold reality comes rushing back. I let go of her, and I remember all of the things I don’t want to. Don’t need to. I let go of her, and the world loses its pretty fucking sheen.
I snatch her again. Grip her again so hard she winces.
But all is well again. I can think like myself again. I can glare at the other vamryre and tell it to go to hell.
“She is mine,” I say.
The figure shudders. “Well, darling, I certainly am not one to judge another for their choice of kink. To each their own, I say. Just leave it over there in the doorway—no, not the package, the dirty thing. Yes. Leave it there?—”
He means my fae. He doesn’t want her in his pretty house, near his pretty, fake collection of sparkly, shiny things.
Too late. I drag her toward me. Bring her with me.
He doesn’t want her here, but whatever is in this package, he needs. He needs me to carry it deeper within this maze of rooms and set it on the floor before a closed door. There is something behind this door. Something I want. Need.
Something I have forgotten but desperately need.
Can’t remember now. Don’t care. I look at my fae toy, and I don’t care.
“Well, that is done,” the fugitive vamryre remarks. He hasn’t followed us here. He lingers paces away at the end of the hall. He watches, his nostrils flared, eyes fearful and furtive. They dart to my fae, then to me, and back again.
He fears her, this corrupted being. He eyes her as if she’s the broken one. The lying one. The fearful one.
But he is here, and so am I.
“Who do you belong to?” I ask.
“No one,” he replies, chin in the air, throat gripping around a hard swallow. “Out here, I belong to myself, as I assume you do. But don’t think you can sow any trouble here, vampire. I know what you are. I know which master you belong to?—”
He uses present tense, not past.
“Don’t think you can bring your troubles here. I know of your kind. I know of you, boy.”
“Caspian,” I correct with a cold smile. “I am Caspian.”
“You are one of Cassius’ toys,” he counters as a hint of power radiates through those dark eyes. He dresses like a woman and wears their perfume. He carries himself with the air of a man. He is deceitful but not weak. I can feel his control wash over me and threaten.Watch yourself, boy.“It isn’t like your master to let your kind wander too far off your leash. Now go!” He beckons us forward and then wills us away with waving hands and delicate fingers. “Get out. You’ve done your duty. Get out.”
I want to. Gladly, I will leave.