“Come on, deathtrap. Time to get up. Hazai and Jezebel will be here soon.” His words were a warm caress in my ear, gently pulling me from the nap I had succumbed to.
“Mmm? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. He looked up at me from where he still lounged against our pillows, smiling.
“I’m not surprised you did. You needed to rest; you’ve had a bit of an emotionally taxing day.” He sat up and kissed my forehead before getting to his feet.
“Do you want a coffee or anything? I can have one sent to the room on my way to meet with Art.”
“That would be amazing.” I gave him a sleepy smile. I was still feeling groggy from the nap but also a little bit excited for the night ahead. I was especially pumped for the pumpkin carving contest.
Just then, the door burst open and Jezebel and Shem strolled in. Shem was looking amused, and Jezebel was looking furious.
“You’re the fucking worst,” she snapped at him, and he shrugged.
“Depends who you ask.” He winked at her, and Ramel laughed.
“What are you two arguing about?” I asked, and Jezebel glared at Shem, then pointed to her neck where a thick, pink leather collar was fastened.
“Your asshole General slapped this shit on me while I had my head in the beer fridge.”
Shem flopped down in one of the chairs by the chess table, giving her a bored look.
“Maybe don’t run your fucking mouth, and you won’t get collared. Keep it up, Jez, and I’ll lock you in the dungeons for the rest of the fucking night, and you won’t get to participate in the festivities at all.”
“You could have at least picked a color that matches my damn outfit.”
“Don’t act like you’re not going to wear black. Black goes with everything.”
“I’m a redhead, you fucking tool! Pink looks shit on me.” She whirled around and examined the collar in the wall-length mirror next to the door, prodding it angrily.
I frowned. Was she really more annoyed with thecolorof the collar than the fact that he had locked it around her throat? I could see the gold heart-shaped lock glinting in the green light from the fire. I didn’t say anything, but it was weirdly comforting to see someone else wearing one. It made me feel less humiliated about the fact that I had been forced to wear one for the first few weeks I had been here.
Ramel and Shem were staring at each other and I got the impression they were having a silent conversation. I would have bet my last dollar that it was about Jezebel and whether or not they really should lock her in her room in case she was the mole and was planning on trying something tonight.
“You can’t tell me there wasn’t a cute green one lying around…” she was still muttering to herself, and Shem seemed to finally lose his patience.
“Enough, Jez. Accept your punishment. You’re lucky this is all you’re getting after what you did. Lilith could have fucking died.”
She sighed and turned around to face us. “Yeah, yeah, alright,” she said, sounding a little put out. She glanced at me, her eyes softening. “I really am sorry, Lil.”
Both Ramel and Shem narrowed their eyes at her, but I couldn’t help but feel like she was being genuine.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad you told me,” I whispered back.
Ramel gave her a deadly smile. “If I were you, I would stay worried about it, Jezebel.”
I slapped his arm. “Okay, relax. Don’t you have a meeting to go to? Get out of here so I can get ready.”
He turned to look at me, a dangerous smile tilting his lips. He curled a ringed finger under my chin and kissed me softly. “Alright, my little deathtrap, I’ll go. I’m excited to see what you put on for me. Just make sure it’s easy to take off.” He smirked, and I rolled my eyes, pointing at the door.
“Out!” I snapped, and he chuckled. He glared at Jezebel on the way out but didn’t say anything else to antagonize her.
“Thank Satan, I thought he would never leave.” She winked at me, but Shem shot her a warning glance.
“Do what you came here to do, Jez, then get out of my sight unless you really do want me to snap a leash on that ugly pink collar.”
“So you admit it! You admit it’s ugly!” She stuck her tongue out at him, completely unphased. She gestured for me to sit down at the vanity on the other end of the room, pulling out a hairbrush and getting to work on brushing my bed hair out.
“You’re not bothered by the fact that they collared you like a dog?” I asked, wincing. It had bothered me, at least at first, though by the end, I had gotten pretty used to it.
