Page 29 of Born for Silk

“Sire.” A member of my Guard pants, struggling up the hill, dropping to his knee in apology for the disrespectful approach. “Forgive my interruption, Sire, but Master Cairo has been informed that two Silk Girls are missing from the Aquilla Silk Aviary. We received a radio message from a Guard with reports of a crash. A Mill Trade worker found the van flipped over near Ruins N, outside an abandoned abattoir. He has sent Marshall Blues from the Trade-tower, but we are closer. Shall we go?”

“Rome,” Kong warns. “No.”

“Yes,” I say, thrilled at the premise of more blood on my hands and kills in my mental ledger.

“Send men from here,” Kong implores. “You don’t need to be rescuing Silk Girls. You have Trade men for such jobs.”

“I don’t take kindly to others playing with my property, Kong. You should know this about me.” I smirk. “I am somewhat of a possessive man.”

“Haven’t you killed enough men today, Rome?” he calls out as I stride down the hill. “You are possessive, but you’re not a man. You’re the damn King of The Strait, and you’re avoidin—” His words are swallowed by the wind as I descend, space stretching his voice to join the howling.

Chapter Six

Rome

A copper-coloured haze sets the scene.

It’s fucking early.

“Remember there are Silk Girls in there,” a Guard says to the men who surround the entrance to the old abattoir.

They brace themselves at each entrance, before signalling with their fingers, one, two, three. They open the old bovine hatches and throw the gas in. It is a clear, heavy gas that will creep along the floors, nearly undetected before it knocks everyone inside out.

I pick my entrance. A double door, clearly the main passage in and out. I want to be seen first. It is something Kong hates about me. I arrive first and leave last. The Guard like to praise this—my motivations being driven by loyalty and leadership. When, in fact, my motivations are selfish and singular. I am the king. I want the first flare of fear to fall on me.

Rome of The Strait.

There is a beat of wings and then a thud from behind us; I know it is Odio landing on the top of the tank, so I don’t turn like the rest of the Guards do.

We wait for several minutes, until enough gas has leaked inside, like an eel through reeds.

Then I push open the doors. The Guards pull their masks down, but Kong and I walk straight in. One of the supreme Xin De evolutionary traits—thin films inside my nostrils that filter sand, debris, and heavy gases.

The red haze bleeds into a clammy and dark warehouse full of unconscious Endigos.

I stride forward, finding a young man on the floor. I step on his hand and roll my heel, grinding his bones to dust, mashing his flesh to red puddles. The boy groans but doesn’t come to.

How utterly boring…

The gas collects around their beds and sofas, but?—

I stop; a few meters away, on the floor a man crushes a small girl with black hair. Hair like onyx melted and swirled with blackberries—streaks of colour that are too dark to note, but add to the lush density, highlight and deepen.

I didn’t imagine caring about this campaign, but her little hand in mine is still a warm memory.

I forget about the Endigo, the ecstasy of their fear, the kill. While I stare at her, my men move in and begin to seize the unconscious. The Cradle Relations Guard records the moment with a camera hidden in his mask. He’ll use this footage for the weekly Trade Update. We will take the Endigos back to The Estate, showcase our success, promote the protection we offer to The Trade aligned Common and Xin De.

I wanted to kill a few first, but?—

I stride over to the two collapsed bodies. Seething, I reach down and grab the fucker’s skull, lift him from the tiny creature, and toss him to the side. The body hits a barrel, spilling the contents over the grey concrete floor.

It is her. I squat at her side.

Fuck me, she’s pretty.

Even when unresponsive, she’s striking. Her lips are flushed, eyes closed, long, dark lashes fan over pale cheeks. She is white, black, and red—a stunning contrast of bold hues.

I click my fingers at a Guard, impatient, and a mask is placed in my hand.