Page 84 of Iblis' Affliction
Hands clasped behind his back, the man barked, “No, Reis.”
“Would you like to work for me? I need a bodyguard and someone to keep that guy in check.”
Wide mouth stretching in a huge smile, Zaal got up from his seat and drawled in his pointy accent, “At your servize, Reis.”
PRESENT
A WEAK SMILE CURLEDthe corners of his lips upon remembering Slater’s outrage. After storming through the house and tossing things against walls, he’d demanded a contract then disappeared for three days.
Looking back in time, Talha thought that it was a miracle that Slater hadn’t killed Zaal sooner, because he hated the man with his whole soul.
At that moment, a very arrogant thought stirred at the back of his head, making him feel a little bit happy:Was it because I told him not to?
The memory dispelled, leaving him eye to eye with the photo of Zaal. His black eyes, usually immobile, now forever frozen in an unseeing gaze forward.
A WEEK OF ANGER,where Slater itched to slaughter everyone, bled into a week of desperation. His wound had healed enough to walk without breaking into sweating and panting every five minutes, but his heart was bleeding out with the painful need to see his master. On the third week, he stopped using the bed. Lying on the floor by the line, he imagined himself sleeping by Master’s side. His fingers constantly trailed the white paint, as he remembered the feel of Talha’s skin. At the moments of anger outbursts, he furiously scratched the line with his nails as if it had some magical power to keep him locked in and as soon as the pictogram was ruined, he would be released. But even though the scratches appeared, the spell never broke.
With every day, the harrowing feeling that Master abandoned him settled deeper into his bones, stripping him of will. Deep down, he already knew what Talha was trying to achieve, but he had a hard time accepting it.
If Master closed the deal with Savas, he doesn’t need Slater anymore. He must be so revolted with Slater that he doesn’t even want to come and kill me.The lazy thought wriggled its way into his mind, stirring fear.What if Master never comes? Will Slater die here? Is this what Master wants? For Slater to disappear? Or is Master scared to face Slater?
Remembering the stinging slap he’d received in the mosque and the offered karambit, Slater didn’t believe it.
No, Master isn’t scared, or he would have killed Slater long ago. Master didn’t even bother to put up guards. So careless… or smart?
Slater gulped down the bitter saltiness of his spittle, knowing that Miraç was right. Talha wanted him to leave. Talha didn’t want him anymore, and this was the last act of kindness Master granted him. Or was it cruelty? Slater couldn’t tell anymore.
No, Master. You are wrong. Slater won’t run. You’ll have to come and see Slater, because Slater is going nowhere. You will have to come and tell Slater to go away. This is low, Master. At least look Slater in the eye when you tell Slater you don’t want him anymore…
But despite his determination, the floor felt colder as time flew by.
TALHA’S EAR HAD HEALEDso had his concussion. Even Camilla’s funeral, that had happened two days ago in London, felt distant as if months had passed. Falling back into his routine, Talha once again reassessed the damage Slater had done, as the gate to England shut in front of his nose. The Hale Family didn’t officially hold a grudge, yet they didn’t want anything to remind them of the tragedy that had happened to their beloved daughter. Talha saw through this bullshit, realizing that once Camilla was gone, the organization changed hands, which inevitably altered its goals.
Seeing no point in mourning the ruined opportunity, Talha concentrated on his country and his life, but even this didn’t hold his attention for long, as without the Kiliç group and Slater, things were running smoothly.
Savas had stopped by a few times. He didn’t talk much, making it nearly impossible to understand his reasons. Taking a distant place, he could spend hours watching Talha go about his business. Talha didn’t care. Life with Slater stripped him of the ability to get shocked or surprised. Also, it didn’t look like the reaper had anything particular in mind, more like he was bored.
Keeping himself busy, Talha directed the course of his thoughts toward the future, wanting to abandon Slater to the past. Nevertheless, whenever exhaustion took over, his concentration slipped, weakening his self-control and small memories started flickering before his eyes, bringing forward unwanted thoughts about Slater.
Miraç’s regular updates didn’t help him forget the reaper either, as they painted in his mind a very satisfying picture of a suffering Slater. Part of Talha yearned to punish the reaper, to make him suffer even more. Another one wished for the reaper to disobey the order and disappear, so Talha would never have to deal with him again. But there was the third, tiny fraction of his soul that rejoiced, as Slater staying in the hospital room meant that Talha’s word wasn’t an empty sound to the reaper’s ears.
But the longer he avoided dealing with Slater, the more he understood that it couldn’t go on forever, as patience wasn’t Slater’s strongest quality. Sooner, rather than later, he would get tired of waiting and kill everyone in the hospital, as he wouldn’t be able to cope with his irritation and a growing need to kill.
One more week. I’ll wait for a week. If he won’t leave, I’ll kill him.
THE WORLD LOST ITS COLORS,turning his days into bleak nothingness. The hospital food, that had never appealed to Slater, now revolted him. He stopped eating. Bored and disappointed, he was falling into the abyss of an emotional vacuum he’d tried to escape all his life. Without any information, without pleasure, Slater felt his soul turning into stone. Even the rare sweets Miraç sneaked into the hospital didn’t excite him anymore and tasted no better than cardboard.
The need to break the neck of the annoying nurse who kept bursting into the room and hitting him with the door grew stronger, but Master wouldn’t appreciate him making a mess. He didn’t train, barely slept, but kept shaving, showering, and dressing, hoping that one day Master would come. The arctic frost, settling into his bones, constantly reminded him of the warmth of his master’s body, instilling in his head a single question,‘Did Master throw Slater away?’
However, even if he answered ‘yes’, he didn’t know what to do next. It wasn’t hard to find a master, but it was nearly impossible to find a good one who would satisfy all his needs. The one who would always take care of him, protect him, and clean his mess. Who would forgive him no matter what he did. Talha had been it. Talha had been everything Slater needed, up until now. Finding good master material and building up a new master would take years, and Slater didn’t want to bother. He loved Talha’s scent, the feeling of his large hands upon his body, and that consideration in Master’s eyes when Talha tried to understand him.
“I miss Master...” He breathed.Did Slater fuck this up?
He needed to ask Talha, so he kept waiting.
THE DOOR, OPENING,scraped his back. Pain enraged, Slater rolled away ready to kill the nurse. He lifted his upper body, looking at the door, and his heart leaped into his throat. His chest so tight that air stuck in his lungs, refusing to leave. He swallowed, reached forward, but his trembling fingers stopped an inch away from Talha’s beige linen pants.
“M-Master?” His voice broke, as he couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked, then again, but the vision didn’t disappear. Talha looked good. Dressed in the casual clothes and with his hair tossed to the side he looked younger. Refreshed and clean-shaved, he smelled like home. Slater inched further, but Talha stepped away, and his shaky fingers clasped in the air.
