Page 100 of Heir of the Beast

“Oh, right.” I take a shaky breath.

~Here we go again.~ Not a dull moment.

“You’re positive this healer will help Apollo?” I ask.

Mort sighs. “It’s our only hope.”

***

My hair is pulled, washed, oiled, painted, steamed, and I lose track of whatever else after the two-hour mud bath. Now I must make my way to sector 3 to get my body and my ~hoo-ha~ waxed.

I’m super excited about this one. I feel like a cat with its ears back.

I want to hiss at the big fat lady who keeps knocking me upside the head every chance she gets. Saying I am not dancing correctly and tilting my head enough, which is a lie. She just wants a reason to beat me.

I will have to talk to Pierce about how we can uncover this horrid place. I’ve already seen one girl get hauled off because she would not expose her breasts to the commander.

I walk past a large window that overlooks the ocean and gasp, Laura coming to stand beside me with the same expression of concern. There is a massive black ship docked, and when I say huge, I mean it.

It looks like a possessed pirate ship on steroids that would have Freddy Krueger nervous to board. Freddy would say,~ “Fuck that shit~.” That’s how intimidating the vessel is.

I shiver.

“You think this is Black Siron? Mort said he is arriving today with a few others.”

She nods. “Leenie showed me his sign, which is a black raven or something.”

The large flag on the ship is definitely a black bird of some sort. “I think that is a safe bet,” I whisper.

“Eltson had already arrived.”

I take a deep breath. “Dance class tonight again, makes me want to barf.”

“Me too,” Laura agrees.

“Is that him?” I point.

Laura looks behind her then back out the window with a squint. “Oh, dear Lord,” she moans.

She is right. I see Black Siron being greeted by a whole fleet of people as if he is king. He is tall and muscular, broad shoulders dwarfing most men—save for Apollo.

Shit. He does not look like a man to cross; his black attire gives him a daunting appearance.

I would even go as far as to say the man is exceptionally handsome save for his face, which is half covered by a black Zorro-looking mask. I can see his black hair and bronzed skin due to his shirt's open neck.

I instantly feel sick. This man is all that is power. I just pray he does not fancy me—I can see him being ruthless. An evil man with the devil’s own looks is beyond bad news.

I just wished I had a shotgun. I’d bust out of here like Rambo.

“I just got really nervous,” Laura whispers.

“Lifelines.”

She shakes her head and huffs. “Apollo is in love with you.”

I look at her in shock.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Everyone can see it, even me.” She looks at me and shrugs. “It is what it is.” Laura is defeated, her prime ego deflated.

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