Page 12 of Iblis' Affliction
“Sometimes…”
Slater flinched. The word seared him with freezing fire. He rubbed the burn harder until acute pain suffused his whole being, helping him to contain his emotions. The sticky surface tightened, bouncing under his thumb, then broke. Spilling some liquid, it revealed the reddish surface beneath, but he kept scraping the damaged area, welcoming the first flame of awakening anger that sparked in his stomach.
“Why don’t you walk away then?” Ejder asked. Talha’s clear, rollicking laughter resounded in the night, messing with Slater’s head, confusing him further.
“There is no walking away. If you deal with the Devil you have to be ready to pay with your life. I knew it from the first moment I saw him.” Talha’s residual chuckles diffused in the night. “But if things were repeated, I would do it all over again.”
Slater let his hand fall. The rudiments of anger died out as the comforting words reached his ears. The urge to storm into the room and press his cheek to his master’s knee wiped clean his thoughts, but something stopped him from entering. Staring at the handle, he hesitated.Master is confusing…
“You are sick, Abi. He poisoned your mind,” Ejder concluded. “You can’t control him. Chip him if you don’t want to get rid of him. We should at least know where he is.”
“He isn’t a cow; he’s my Iblis.” The proud notes, rebounding in Talha’s voice, lifted Slater’s chin. “I want him to be free. You can’t chip fire but you can choke it. There’s a reason why no one can control Iblis unless he chooses his master. I want him to lick my hand, and for that, I’ll sell my soul over and over.”
Something twitched in Slater’s chest as he listened for Master’s voice. The amount of received information, sinking in, formed a billion questions that swarmed in his skull, awakening a severe headache.
“Okay… that I didn’t need to know.” Ejder brushed the topic away, jumping to another. “Have you told him about your wedding yet?”
Wedding?
“No… Not yet…” Talha groaned. “But Slater will understand?”
The hopeful notes in Master’s voice brought a dissonance in Slater soul.
“Will he also understand that you traded him to her?” Ejder’s barking laughter scratched Slater’s ears, but his words sank deep into his mind. “He will kill you.”
Master did what?He couldn't believe his ears and shook his head.No…Master didn’t. Ejder knows nothing. Iblis is not for trade. Master wouldn't.
“I’m not an idiot. He doesn’t need to know.” The invisible fist of Talha’s words sledgehammered his solar plexus, pushing the air out of his lungs. “All he has to do is follow my orders, as always, and everything will be fine.”
“He will kill you...”
“What can I do? Camilla wants him. And I want London,” Talha stated. His heavy steps crossed the room, approaching. Slater shrunk back in the darkness, but the door didn’t open. Instead, the pure clanging of a thin glass reached his ears a second before the sound of trickling liquid.
“You are such a good husband, Abi.” Ejder’s mocking words brought a foul taste into Slater’s mouth.
Have you submitted to a pussy, Master? Traded me for London… How weak.
His hesitant hand landed on the handle, recoiled, then twitched again. Slater wanted to push the door open and confront Master, but a deep-seated hesitation, scratching in the pit of his stomach, forced him to step into the darkness.Master will come to Slater. Then Master will have to explain. Slater will wait.
SITTING ON THE RIM OF THE STONE BANISTER,Slater rocked his legs in the air. His fingers did a mechanical job of sending one piece of rose locum after another into his mouth. His master had been missing since morning, and Slater had nothing to do. Staying alone in the basement had been boring, so despite the promised punishment, he unlocked his restraints and let himself out, but the dull grayness in his soul didn’t disperse. Quite the opposite, it darkened, thickened, and compressed into a stormy cloud.
Master is getting married.This thought, returning to him over and over, almost stripped him of appetite. He wasn’t sure why it made him feel filthy, but every time it occurred, the acrid stench of disgust replaced the air in his lungs.
Maids sneaked behind him every now and then. Their wary glares tickled his senses, but he didn’t pay attention. He needed to see Master, look him in the eye, and ask him why his chest burned.
The suffocating memory of the hotel suite and the white hand resting over Talha’s torso replayed in his mind with torturous frequency, flooding him with a sticky loathing. Slater didn’t know why he harbored such a strong feeling, as he had never been this agitated by anyone’s existence before.
His cheek flinched as a sour taste spoiled the tender rose flavor in his mouth. Wanting to spit, he looked around. His bored gaze wandered over the carved walls, jumped to the polished, white marble floor until it stumbled over a tall sculpture of Venus. Heavy marble folds, draping her hips, left her upper torso exposed. A gentle line of her stomach, with a slightly visible relief of her abdominal muscles, emphasized the swells of her small breasts and a long neck that supported a perfectly proportional head. The roughly cut stumps where her arms once were caught the light.
Now, admiring Venus, Slater was sure,the hand didn’t belong…but he wasn’t able to finish his thought, as the heavy double doors of the main entrance flew open. Bright light flooded the cold marble hall. Golden arabesques, decorating walls, and the split staircase flared with colors. The sunlight trapped in the corridor of tall, heavily-framed mirrors, ricocheted all over the massive Moorish interior.
Stricken with curiosity, Slater squirmed, watching a massive shadow eclipsing the lights. The bull neck, sitting on the broad shoulders, made the bodyguard’s head look small. Stomping in, Zaal faced the entrance and let six foreigners dressed in boring black suits into the mansion. Checking their surroundings, they tapped small devices connected to their ears with their fingers, constantly exchanging short messages with someone invisible.
Slater hummed. Picking up another piece of locum, he placed it on his tongue, then licked his sugary fingers. Someone spared him a glance, but their attention quickly moved on as the people spread through the mansion. He decided that there was no immediate danger.
“Pleaze, come on in,” Zaal said in rough English; his heavy accent scratched Slater’s ears. The light streaming through the opened door flickered, and the slender silhouette of a woman appeared. She took a step forward, her red shoe passing the threshold. Slater swallowed the warning growl vibrating in his throat. Hatred stormed in his chest as his body moved on its own. Jumping down from the rail, he landed on the first floor; his right knee touched the soft carpet, absorbing the impact. The box of locum that had lain on his knees smashed against the ground, dusting the fluffy pile with sugar powder. He took a moment to stabilize the powerful jolt that stormed up his chest, to his head.
Swirling, Zaal put a hand on his gun. A warning flashed in his black eyes. “Geri çekil, köpek[5]!”
