A tiny, insidious whisper said,Coward. You want an easy way out. There isn’t one.
The crack of leather against skin brought Roger out of his thoughts. He followed their guide to the open archway.
In the center of the room, a young man stood naked except for the pale red collar on his throat. His wrists were bound and attached to a chain that ran through a loop on the ceiling and back down to a hook on the floor, which was then held by abored-looking man who lounged on the floor. That man had a deeper red collar and a crest tag marking him as Candide’s.
The bound pet’s back was to the archway, and his skin was red, with deeper slash marks striping him here and there. Many had been cuts at some point, trickles of blood decorated his skin, but most had already closed entirely. His long auburn hair was braided, with the braid hanging over his shoulder and onto his chest.
The floor beneath him was coated in what would look like silver glitter to the uninitiated, but Roger could smell the magic pouring off him. Crisp juniper was stronger than the smell of roses and death.
Candide had an Unseelie fey as a pet.
The mistress herself, Candide, had a long whip in her hand that she allowed to drag on the floor behind her as she walked around her bound pet. She made a hand motion, and the lounging pet tightened the tension of the chain and forced the bound one onto his tiptoes. Though she had at least two dozen for an audience, the click of her heels was distinct. Her blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the braiding of it exquisite. Similarly, her bloodred dress left no question about who was in charge of the room or the entire palace. As always, she exuded control and nobility above all else.
She only had eyes on her prize, and her eyes were ruby red instead of blue. She swished the whip and then brought it down on her pet’s back. With each strike, she drew thin lines of blood from wounds that soon began to close. The young man didn’t flinch. He’d dropped so far into subspace that he made guttural whimpers and moans begging for more or release—though knowing Candide, Roger suspected the poor boy had a cock cage on.
Roger had made shows of doing this sort of performance. Demonstrating his skills as a master had been a thrill … hadn’tit? The mere suggestion of displaying Kit or Zack or Carver in such a way—though without the blood drawing; Roger had never had interest in that—felt uncomfortable, like he was living in a shell of who he had been.
After a final crack of the whip, Candide whispered, “My good boy.”
Her words brought a greater flush to her bound pet, and long waves of natural want poured out from him. The other vampires basked in it; one in the back of the room undid his pants and coaxed his pet to suck on him.
Candide neared her pet and licked one thin trail of blood before tugging his head back and biting his neck. He whined with need, but she pulled away after the briefest of sips.
With a pleased smirk, she circled her boy again. She motioned to the pet on the floor, and the tension was released so the pet stood on his feet, though his arms remained nearly taut over his head. She lightly stroked his back, navigating the maze of marks and drawing a few drops of blood onto her fingertips. Daintily and quickly, she licked the blood.
Finally, she glanced Roger’s way. Her smile grew. “Mon cher, it’s wonderful to see you. Come, have a treat.”
Turning down Candide’s gift would be rude, and the boy smelled delicious. Roger returned her smile. “I’d be honored.”
He neared the boy and looked over his wounds. The redness from Candide’s attention was already starting to fade, leaving the appearance that the blood trails crisscrossed unblemished, pale skin. Roger licked one of the fresher trails.
The fey existed in their own plane of existence, a realm full of magic that infused its people. The boy’s blood was ice-cool and brought to mind the winter wind under moonlight. Feeling cold was hard as a vampire, and the sensation was a rare pleasure.
After reigning in his impulsive want of the boy, Roger laughed gently and offered his arm out to Candide. “You have a knack for finding true treasures.”
Candide took his arm, and they crossed the room together. All eyes were on them. “I see you have found some of your own. Hello, Takashi. Pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine, master,” Takashi said. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”
“Oh, come now! You were shy, but I do recall the way we made you blush!” Candide laughed. She had always kept her French accent as a point of pride, refusing to blend her voice into an American accent. “And if you’re going to remain formal, use mistress. I hate master. It makes me sound like a stodgy old man.” Her attention turned to Kit. “Aren’t you a delight? I love the hair. Is the color natural?”
“No, mistress,” Kit said quietly.
“It’s gorgeous on you. Well done.” Candide moved on to Carver, raking her gaze over him before catching Roger’s eye. “You’ll have to watch him around Lucille. She’ll want to take a bite out of him for certain.”
“Lucille’s home?” Roger asked. The vampire in question was one of Candide’s sirelings, a girl barely sixteen when she was turned and from their time in New York City. She was to the GLC as Takashi had been to Nell’s coven.
“She will be in a week.” Candide squeezed his arm. “She’s missed you, too. She said she can’t wait to see her favorite uncle again.”
Could Lucille have been the one to put him in a coma? Roger hadn’t even considered her since she had been away at the time, but she was a vampire who made connections everywhere—did she want Roger’s position?
Keep the paranoia under control. Save it for when you can think without everyone watching your face.Roger chuckled.“I’m still readjusting to phones. I went without them for a while, full detox of the modern world. But you’ll have to give her my number. I would love to see her when she comes.”
“I’ll do that,” Candide said. She gently tugged her hand free of Roger as she approached Zack. With one finger, she lifted Zack’s chin. Protocol dictated that Zack keep his gaze on the floor, and he did, though it was a narrow thing. His heart was pounding, but his face remained smooth, no trace of fear or anger. “My, my. You’ve outdone yourself with this one. How tamed is he?”
“Plenty, and he’s never for loan,” Roger said sternly, more to the room than Candide.
He wasn’t sure she was all that interested in Zack. Out of all the captains, Candide had the best poker face. She had bluffed her way into a conversation with a Seelie princess once, which had prevented her and Roger from dying by overexposure to magical sunlight.
