Page 73 of Iblis' Affliction
Talha laughed. “Don’t underestimate me, ripper. My Empire won’t collapse, but I need you now because you can do what Iblis does, and I don’t have time to look for anyone else.”
Savas lips formed what Talha assumed was a smile. The scarred, pink tissue stretched over the bulging muscle of his cheek, lips drew up, revealing his white teeth with pointy canines. The muscles of the damaged half of his face didn’t respond correctly, and the smile evolved into a demonic, lopsided smirk. At that moment, Talha understood Dinçer’s words that it would be better if he never smiled. With his empty eyes, this kind of smile appeared psychopathic, scary.
“Hmmm? What happened to Slater?” Amusement, too evident in his voice, didn’t reach his eyes but syringed anger into Talha’s veins.
“None of your business. Will you help or not?”
“I wish I could help you, Reis, but I’m already bound with a contract. I don’t serve two masters at once. You can’t wish, but he can.” He tossed a meaningful glance at Dinçer.
“No. I pay for myself. Is there another way?”
“There is.” Savas grinned showing that hellish smile again. “Kill Dinçer, and I’ll grant three of your wishes. I won’t even ask for payment.”
“Don’t be silly,” Talha sighed, wondering why it was always so hard to deal with rippers. “Ask for something else.”
Savas’ grin flattened into a colorless slit; he fixed his heavy gaze at Dinçer. The tint of honey in his voice gone, and a demonic, hoarse voice broke out of his mouth. “He wishes, or no deal.”
“If he does, how do I know you won’t ask for his life in return?”
“Oh, you don’t, Reis.” The honeyed voice returned. Savas’ whiskey-colored eyes glinted with fire as he tossed an uncaring glance at Talha. “But isn’t it more fun this way?”
Dinçer’s face darkened with every second, and a weird expression settled in the depth of his dilated pupils. Talha felt a weird kinship with that emotion that presented a bitter mixture of pity, regret, and hurt.
Maybe Ejder was right. Maybe I have brought it upon myself, and now I’m about to do it to Dinçer.
“Make your last wish!” Savas urged, slanting forward in a predatory pose, his eyes feasting on Dinçer as wind disarranging his hair.
He’s even worse than Slater. At least Slater is pure and transparent in his desires.
“Forget it.” With a dismissive flick of his wrist, Talha moved to the door. The whole conversation felt like a waste of time, as the little punk only wanted to get back at Dinçer. “Maybe people are right when they say you are nothing without your pretty face. It was stupid of me to think you can be Iblis, after all, you are too delicate to do what he does.”
“Think whatever you want, Reis, but this cheap trick won’t work on me. If you change your mind, you know my conditions.”
“I won’t.” Talha waved his hand in the air.Dinçer was right. Savas is nothing like Slater. Not cute at all…
“Wait…” Dinçer croaked. An intake of air preceded the low sound of his request. “Do what Talha wants. Please.”
“No-o-o. I don’t want this.” Talha spun and instantly regretted it because Savas was smiling.
“Too late, Reis.” A satiated look wiped out the nothingness from Savas’ eyes, as he brought his hand in the air and snapped his fingers. “Granted, Master, or should I say former master?”
Dinçer’s expression didn’t change, but the color of his skin paled a fraction.
“Oh,” Savas knitted his brows in an exaggerated sympathy, “don’t be so sad. It’s not like it’s a farewell. Once I’m done, I’ll come to collect the debt.”
With a quick nod, Dinçer left the room.
In the car, eye to eye with Talha, he spoke again. “I didn’t do it for you, so quit looking at me like this.”
“Then why?” Talha asked, suppressing the urge to look in the mirror and find out what expression he wore.
“Who knows...” Dinçer shrugged. “Anyway, if I ever need a favor, you will remember this time, and you will help me, even if it’s to your disadvantage.”
“WHY DON’T YOU GOand see him, Reis?” Miraç asked, pushing an elevator button. With a chime, the doors closed and the cabin moved down.
“I saw him this morning. Don’t think anything changed since,” Talha deadpanned, resting his eyes at the changing numbers on the board. “Is he awake yet?”
“No. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable. I expect to take him off the lung ventilation and out of the intensive care by tomorrow morning. It means he should wake up in a few hours, or that’s my hope. He is strong; he should make it.”
