Page 38 of Iblis' Affliction
Talha said nothing, so Miraç continued, “If you allow me to give you a piece of advice, Reis, it would be ‘leave him alone for now and cool down’. Hot-headed decisions never brought anyone prosperity.”
Staring into the dark, soft eyes, Talha felt painful pressure releasing in his jaw. Swallowing past the lumps in his throat, he jerked his cheek, reluctantly giving in. Miraç was right, as always, and his respect for the man grew stronger. Talha wasn’t someone to give in to his blind instincts. He knew better than anyone that pure violence never brought anyone anywhere, this was why he survived and prospered.
“Why don’t you come with me? Let’s have lunch.” A firm palm, wrapping around Talha’s elbow, guided him out of the room and toward the staircase.
“YOU HAVE BEEN MISSINGfor a week… Where have you been, Master?” Slater didn’t ask but demanded his reply.
Standing in the kitchen by a sizzling frying pan, Talha scrutinized the chopped parts of something that once might have been a bird, as he tried to collect his thoughts. Staying out of his own house had been stupid, but he couldn’t help it. All those days slamming balls deep into a pussy, Talha tried to cleanse himself of shame, guilt, and memories. He’d never been particularly homophobic, as he’d never cared about what anyone did as long as they didn’t cross his path, but that was before he’d slept with a man. He loved pussy and the softness of breasts. Never in his life had he desired to touch another man.Then why the hell did I get hard with Slater?
Ejder was right. Things were as complicated as he let them be, except they weren’t. This wasn’t only about sex. Shaking off his emotional turbulence, Talha decided to forget the whole episode, blaming it on his drunken state and Slater’s weird behavior. What he couldn’t shrug off as easily, was the impact it could have on his life. Even knowing that Ejder would never stop teasing him about sleeping with a man, he was sure there would be no leak from his side. Slater, on the other hand, could kill him with one word.
Slater’s question hung in the air, and Talha realized that a week wasn’t nearly enough for him to face the ripper and stay calm.
“None of your business. Anyway, why are you cooking claws?” Talha pointed at a bird foot, then to the cooked, brownish head. “Is it a beak?”
Instead of answering, Slater hissed, “Where is everybody, Master?”
“They won’t be around for a while. Get used to it. If you don’t want to cook—eat out.”
“Why, Master? Why only you and Slater? Is it a trap?”
Talha almost choked on his saliva. Unable to tell if Slater was joking, he faced the reaper but met the dead-serious eyes and a strained, cautious pose.Slater backed to the wall, then lurked to the nearest window. With one jerky movement, he closed the blinds. Keeping away from openings, he curled his palm and tugged at a small loop that connected his middle finger to a wrist strap, ready to draw a needle out of its sheath.
Does he think I want to put him down because we had a drunk fuck?Shaking his head, Talha said, “No, Slater. If I ever want to kill you, I’d do it with my own hands. I sent people away because I don’t know what to expect from you. I didn’t want you to slaughter everybody. Until I know what’s going on in your head, it will just be you and me here. Get used to cooking or starve—I don’t care.”
Emitting a weird, high-pitched sound, Slater grinned. “Master is funny.” He took a plate and offered it to Talha. “Eat with me.”
“Eat what, Slater? Whatever you are cooking, this dish should be censored. There’s no way I’m trying...” Talha gave a suspicious look to the frying pan. “What on earth is it?”
“Your chickens, Master. They are terribly underfed.”
“My chickens?” Talha faced the reaper. “I don’t keep chickens.”
“No, not anymore…”
Blood left Talha’s face, as the realization hit him.
“You motherfucker, did you slaughter the whole pigeon loft?” His hand, shooting up, squeezed Slater’s throat. Tripping the reaper’s foot, Talha arched him backward and smashed the back of his head against the white marble island. His free hand found a fork and brought it to Slater’s eye. The reaper didn’t blink. The reflection of the fork in his eye grew bigger, but his pupils didn’t dilate, and not a single muscle in his body tensed. “You’ve reached the limit, Slater. They were my messenger pigeons. Do you know how much they cost and how long it takes to train them properly? They were long-distance ones! Name me one reason why I shouldn’t put you down, you mad dog?”
“Messenger pigeons? Hmm, too bad they are gone now,” Slater deadpanned, and Talha tightened the grip around his throat, as adrenaline hammered in his temples. Unlike his, Slater’s pulse was even and calm under Talha’s fingers as his glacial eyes stared back.
He isn’t scared of me at all… Is he this confident of himself?Talha thought, collecting his thoughts. He wasn’t one to easily lose his calm, yet Slater somehow always managed to irritate him.I can’t believe he murdered my pigeons.
Lifting his chin to the fork, Slater added, “If Master is hungry, Master should eat. Slater waited. Slater cooked for two.”
Waited? For me?The words confused Talha and wiped clean his anger. Pushing a breath out, he removed the fork. “If you were hungry, why didn’t you go shopping?”
“Slater hates shopping. Slater hates crowded places. When Slater is irritated, Slater wants to kill,” Slater hissed, his cheek twitched. Talha released his throat.
“You should have ordered delivery.” Talha turned away, giving a sad look to his once beautiful birds.
“Slater hates delivery, and Slater doesn’t have money.” When the reaper voiced his next question, his warm breath tickled Talha’s nape. “Slater hates cooking too. Can Master cook?”
His tone never dropped the demanding notes and awakened another tornado of irritation in Talha’s chest.
“You have some nerve… I’m considering killing you here. What on Earth makes you think I’m going to cook for you?” Talha swirled, linking their gazes.
“Master sent people away. It’s Master’s fault we have no food. Master is cooking, right?” Without waiting for Talha’s reply, Slater drew out his karambit, hooked the nearest pigeon piece and placed it onto the plate he still held in his hand. “Slater cooked today. You cook tomorrow, right?”
