Page 11 of Iblis' Affliction
“Slater… Are you mad at me?” he whispered in the night. The younger man didn’t move, but his skin prickled with goosebumps under Talha’s touch. “Can we talk? Can you concentrate?”
The minutes stretched, but Slater said nothing. Talha heaved a sigh.
“About that woman–” He wasn’t sure why he tried to explain himself. They weren’t lovers; they weren’t friends. Talha didn’t carry illusions about Slater harboring feelings for him, except for his need for this weird, symbiotic relationship, but he still finished the line. “–It wasn’t for pleasure. It was business.”
Slater didn’t move. His breathing remained soft and deep, barely audible. Talha wondered if he was indeed sleeping. Rolling to his side so he was face to face with Slater, Talha brushed the back of a finger against the swollen, fresh bruise at the corner of Slater’s mouth. Hot and red, it pulsed under his touch. “You know, sometimes, I wish you were a little more normal. Sometimes, I want…” He cut his thought, smirked, then sucked in a deep breath. “Never mind… I guess, if you sleep with the Devil, you can’t expect to get out of Hell.”
The thin, blue vein rhythmically trembled on Slater’s temple. Unable to resist, Talha pressed his mouth to it, then skimmed down and brushed his lips against Slater’s in a featherweight kiss.
“Sleep.”
Rolling to the edge of the bed, Talha got up and left the room.
SLATER’S EYES FLEW OPEN.Master’s words instilled uncertainty into his mind. With the uncertainty, a worm of a doubt awoke in his chest, pushing him upright.
“Master is weird…” His fingers brushed over his lips, remembering the gentleness of Talha’s mouth. “Master kissed me.”
A smile stretched his lips as a pang of frost shot through his chest. Throwing the heavy blanket off, he placed his feet on the floor. Warm carpet bounced under his naked weight as he stood up.
“Interesting…”
SEARCHING ONE ROOM AFTER ANOTHER,Slater ghosted through the house, looking for his master. His body still ached from the rough sex and Master’s fists, turning his gait slow and clumsy. The whispers of the night, coming from every direction, messed with his dulled, exhausted senses. Every now and then he had to stop and listen.
The carpet beneath his feet morphed into the cold, polished marble of the staircase, as Slater descended to the first floor. He froze again. The muffled voices grew louder, coming from a small living room located in the farthest end of the south wing. Following the sound, he took a right, slapping barefoot down the corridor.
“I don’t know...” Talha’s words, said in Turkish, slowed Slater’s steps. Halting in front of the door, he pressed his sweaty palms against the polished wood, unable to decide if he should walk in or leave.
“Listen…” Ejder’s quiet voice, coming through the speakers, made Slater strain his ears. Talha’s brother rarely called, unless it was something important. “I think it’s time for you to let go, Abi[3]. What do you think will happen when you bring a woman in? What will happen when you have kids? You can’t control him. Not anymore. The time will come when he’ll slice your throat and move on. Why do you even keep him? Anyone can be Iblis.”
Slater’s eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth twitched, but Master’s voice, calm and quiet, engulfed him in the next second, warming him. “No. Slater is my power, my strength. No one can be Iblis but him.”
“What are you saying, Abi? It’s all in the past. He was your power, but you never use him, unless it’s to kill some weak fuck. Where was he last week when we had an incident withthe Kiliç group? We lost five people. Where has he been? He could have done it all alone, yet he wasn't there. Five people died because he wasn’t there.” Pointy, accusing words echoed in the silence. Slater scowled, hearing about this for the first time. Last week had been boring and dull. He’d spent most of it in the basement, chained and gagged, because Master hadn’t had time for him. The fire of irritation licked his heart.Why didn’t Master use me? Why did Master lock me away?
“I didn’t want him there,” Talha unwillingly admitted. Slater pressed his ear to the door to catch the small tale-telling vibrations in his master’s voice.
“You didn’t want him there?” Ejder repeated, stretching the vowels. “Abi, he isn’t your lover. He is your weapon. And now five people died because you didn’t want him to get hurt? He is here to die for you, not the other way around.”
Master didn’t want me to get hurt? Does Master think I’m weak? Does Master doubt me?
“Slater isn’t cannon fodder. He’s an executioner, not a soldier.” Master’s calm voice provided a clear image of the warm glow of Talha’s amber eyes, his long limbs, stretched out in a relaxed posture, and his polished nails trailing the rough line of his dry lips. “I don't want him to kill too often unless it’s needed. Once he starts killing, it’s hard for him to stop. He enjoys it too much.”
“Then don't make him stop. We have lots of enemies. Feed him.” Slater side-nodded, clicking the received information in place.If Master doesn’t want me to kill, why does he need Iblis?
“You don’t understand.” Talha brushed his brother off, and Slater wondered if he’d flicked his wrist in the air in a lazy, dismissive movement. “He is supposed to deliver a message, not drown everything in blood.”
That made sense, but the messages he delivered had thinned to almost nothing. If there were no messages, and Master had enemies, Slater didn’t mind being a soldier. Anything was better than sitting in the basement and waiting for Master to return.
“Oh, I think I understand.” Ejder’s tone picked up edgy notes. “You are scared that he will develop a taste for freedom and one day won’t return to you.”
“You talk too much, Kardesim[4].” Annoyance, seeping into the harsh reply, scratched Slater’s insides with a suspicion that Ejder had hit the truth.
“You are wrong in the head. You sold your soul to the Devil.”
Silence. Running out of patience, Slater placed his palm on the door handle, intending to walk in, when Talha chuckled, “That I did.”
“Do you regret it?” Ejder’s question, as if heating all the metal objects around, seared Slater’s fingers, making him yank his hand away from the bronze handle. “I’ve always been curious.”
Slater’s face hardened. The air felt trapped in his lungs as his heart rate dropped. Seconds ticked by, but Master didn’t reply.Does he?Slater shifted, one hand clasped the other, a thumb brushed over the burn. Pressing on the blister, he listened for the pain to rush up his bones, and diffuse in his heart, bringing him slight relief.No. Master wouldn’t.
