Page 50 of Iblis' Affliction
“No.” Pure, boiling rage resounded in a short reply. “Behçet wanted little Ifrit around all the time. So young, so pretty. Boys like him are harder to break than girls. Still, they are so delicate, so innocent.”
Is this jealousy?Talha guessed, peering into Slater’s features.Did he kill Behçet because of Ifrit?
“This is sick. I don’t believe you,” Dinçer deadpanned.
“Your call.” Slater’s tight-lipped smile grew, turning evil, and Talha knew he didn’t lie.
“How old is he?” Red spots of anger popped over Dinçer’s neck as he squared his jaw. “What’s his name?”
“Why? Do you want to fuck little Ifrit too? Not that I care…”
“You are sick and should be put down.” Fingers twitching, as if wanting to touch the familiar coolness of steel, Dinçer scowled.
“Enough,” Talha raised his palm. “Reply. Now.”
“Savas. He is fifteen.”
“Fifteen? This is sick.” Stabbing his fingers into his hair, Dinçer spun on his heels and tugged at his scalp, messing his already disheveled hair.
“When were you going to tell me? Is it the boy with the Uzi who shot at me?” Talha crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t like secrets, not when it came to work.
“Well, yeah…” The man sighed, then confessed, “I didn’t know if he would survive. The bullet fractured his jaw. He had major blood loss and spent the last weeks in coma. There was nothing to report. He woke up yesterday, but refuses to talk.”
“Put him down,” Slater said without compassion. “Little Ifrit is nothing without his pretty face.”
“Shut up. No one wants your opinion.”
Talha’s headache intensified as he listened to the two men fight.
“Keep an eye on him. If you can’t convert him, put him down. Now, help me with the party.” Talha said, finishing the conversation. “Slater, you go get your proof.”
GHOSTLY HANDS OF WARM, gentle breeze caressed Talha’s skin under his shirt as he stood in the garden behind his mansion. The Ney flute music streamed in the air, as orange light, coming from torches and the massive fireplace in the center of the garden, glinted on the glasses and plates. Long tables, covered with white silk, circled the fireplace.
Peals of laughter rollicked in the night, as the men drank and smoked shisha and hashish. Slender bodies of belly-dancers, hiding behind transparent scarves, entranced the men in the millennium-old dance of seduction. Golden coins and glass beads, embroidered into their clothes, sparkled and attracted gazes to the soft curves of their bodies, dressed in nothing but bedlah[22].
Seeking Salik, Talha passed from one table to another, encouraging people to drink more, and therefore stay longer. As he passed the unlit area, he saw a long, pale leg wrapped around Güvenç’s hip as the man pinned a woman to a tree. His heavy pants joining her high-pitched ones. Talha strolled away. The only place he hadn’t searched yet was the hidden bower, deeper in the garden.
“Midnight,” Dinçer said, approaching him from behind. “He isn’t coming, and you can’t stop people from leaving.”
“I know…” Talha growled his annoyance. “Go, find Salik. Make sure he is having fun and doesn’t want to leave. Get him drunk, if needed, but don’t let him leave.”
Cheek jerking, Talha marched through the garden and found a smaller young woman dressed in white, with an almost non-existent top and a transparent skirt that bared her legs with every sway of her hips. Her coal eyes had reddish, demonic glints of the open fire in them. At any other time, Talha would have dragged her upstairs into his bedroom, but not today.
“Come with me.” Grabbing her wrist, he tugged her toward the bower; her white bedlah swishing with every step taken as she staggered after him barefoot.
“What are you doing, Master?” The liquid voice, coming from behind, stopped him on his tracks.
“You are late.” Talha faced the reaper.
“You didn’t really miss me, as I can see.” Giving a hard stare to the dancer, Slater circled them, eyeing the woman up and down. “She is pretty.”
“Wait,” he ordered Slater before addressing the woman. “See the bower? Go there and make sure my friends are having fun. No one can leave, you understand? Do that, and you will be generously rewarded.”
With a quick nod, the brunette sashayed toward the torch-lit area.
“You are late,” Talha repeated, facing Slater again.
The reaper stood with his hands curled up in front of his chest, his nose tugging at the air. “Master didn’t fuck the woman. Good.”
