This man who put such little worth on a human life had served me a lunch where nothing had to die.
Why?
Sully continued to sit silently. His body seethed with temper all while thoughts and secrets battled in his eyes. Finally, slowly, he stood.
He moved toward me until he towered over my chair. He didn’t speak a word as he bent and cupped my chin, holding me firm. “You’re a vegetarian?” he asked in a clipped, cold voice, but beneath that was the brittleness of agitation.
I nodded, or as much as I could in his control.
His eyes snapped shut. His nostrils flared. He visibly shook before he shoved away whatever anger surged in his veins and dug his fingers painfully into my cheeks. “Nothing alive will end up on your plate while you serve me. Everything you eat on this island is grown by my own cultivators. My gardens and greenhouses are located one island over. My eggs are laid by free-range hens. My cheese is made from hand-milked cows and goats. Every morsel I feed you has come from the land that I rule.”
My eyes bugged.
That was…that was enlightened. That was the habit and choice of someone who either cared about his footprint on this earth or had too much empathy to slaughter or cause suffering.
That didn’t fit with the bastard who took great pleasure from my suffering. It didn’t compute with what I knew about him.
What do you know about him?
Nothing.
I flinched as he bowed closer and pulled me nearer at the same time. Our noses brushed, our eyes locked, and for a terrifying second, I thought he’d kiss me.
But then the moment passed, and he tossed me away as if he couldn’t tolerate touching me any longer. Rebuttoning his blazer and smoothing down his dishevelled edges, he backed away, ready to leave.
And once again, I did something I’d never in a million years thought I’d do. I held up a hand, asking him to stay, needing to ask a question.
A question he’d asked me.
A question I wasn’t entirely sure I’d like the answer to.
“Who are you?” I squinted in the bright afternoon sun. “What man can be so empathic toward animals yet be so callous toward humans?”
He mulled over my query as if it were an astringent wine. His lips thinned, his eyebrows tugged to shadow vibrant blue eyes, and he finally murmured, “I’m empathetic to those creatures born into horror and mutilation. I am not empathetic to the creatures who caused it. I’m using the rules to my own advantage. We slaughter and maim others. Therefore, we are not above slaughter and torture ourselves.”
“So…I’m a chicken to you. A cow destined to—”
“You’re human. But humans are disposable. Men, women…we’re all the same. We think cages are beneath us. We think forced rape is beyond us. We think death is unthinkable because we’re special.” He swiped a hand through his dark, bronze-tipped hair. “We’re not special.” His lips curved into an icy, heartless smile. “We’re just monsters with the ability to speak. Monsters who pay any price to be free.”
Turning around, he stalked toward the villa. I sank deep into depressed realisation as he left me on the deck, surrounded by delicious, untouched food that had grown in his soils and blossomed under his care.
Sully operated within his own laws. The laws that humans had devised for livestock.
That was all I was.
Livestock.
With no voice.
No choice.
His dark, seductive timbre sliced over his shoulder. “Enjoy your evening alone, Eleanor. Because tomorrow…you’ll have company to entertain.”
Chapter Eighteen
“SINCLAIR, A WORD?”
I didn’t stop, prowling down the main pathway linking the restaurant villa to the beach housing water sports and loungers.
I’d stalked away from Eleanor’s accommodation with only one thing in mind: getting the farthest distance away from her.
She dare be a fucking vegetarian? She dare look at me like I’d looked at her? She dare ask me who I was?
Who the fuck was she?
What possessed me to purchase her?
I wanted a refund.
I wanted her gone.
No matter the wealth she would bring me, her disruption to my carefully structured world wasn’t worth it.
“Sinclair. Hold up.”
I swore under my breath and slowed my gait, looking over my shoulder. Markus Grammer held up his hand in a hail, an obnoxious smile on his face and lustful hope in his eyes.
Goddammit.
Stopping, I turned to face him fully, crossing my arms with expectation of his request. If I spoke without clearing my throat, I’d snarl at him to back the fuck off from the goddess he was about to ask for.
But that would be bad for business.
That wasn’t my idea of control.
Markus slowed to a stop, breathing hard from the minor chase. He had the fitness level that I expected of a desk-bound politician. He wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t fit, and it showed in his lack of swimming strength, stamina, and overall activities that he didn’t indulge in on my shores.
Raking a hand through my hair, I tugged my tie knot and shook off the residual hunger and fury that seemed to infect me whenever I was in Eleanor’s company.
I had no idea what possessed me to stay with her while she ate. Why I didn’t just leave her at the surgery and let Dr Campbell or any other staff escort her back to her villa.
I wasn’t a chaperone. And I wasn’t some lust-struck fool.
I didn’t know what I was, and that was what made me fucking rage.
Markus looked at me for the first time; his eager smile dropped with hesitation. “Eh, if this is a bad time…I can—”
“It’s fine.” Just as I feared, my voice resembled some sex-obsessed Neanderthal. I cleared my throat, coughing for good measure. By the time I smiled and placed my mask of helpful hotelier and exclusive renter of women back on my face, my voice was normal, smooth, gentile. “What can I help you with? Everything okay with your stay so far?” I smiled wider. “If you require anything, anything at all, be sure to have your private butler attend to you.”
“I know.” Markus nodded gratefully, his floppy blond hair hanging over one eye. Pushing the mess out of his sight, he looked at the sand sticking to his flip-flops before catching my eye again, and rushing, “That goddess we saw in the dining villa. The one who…yelled at you.”
I kept my smile strictly in place. “The one who only arrived yesterday and is still yet to learn my laws?”
“Oh, she’s new?”
“Very.”
“Is she…available?”
I ignored the urge to rip his fucking head off. Since when did I want to maim my guests? Normally, I enjoyed the tease, the negotiation, the power of granting them what they wanted or denying them until they gave better terms.
My animosity toward him didn’t come from wanting to negotiate. It came from not wanting to share.
“That depends. I’m fully aware of the value she’ll command, even being as new as she is.”
“So…she hasn’t been in Euphoria yet? She hasn’t been with any other guest?”
I crossed my arms so I didn’t tear his motherfucking throat out. “No, she has not.”
His eyes lit up with a million candles, his eagerness switching to desperation. “How much?”
And that was the kicker. I’d already milked this man out of a few hundred k. The cost to stay on my shores commanded a steep deposit. Normally, the rate included a single night in Euphoria with a girl I deemed a good match. One night was usually all a man could handle, and the rest of his stay was recuperation from the best fucking night of his life.
However…just like any hotel, there were add-ons and extra activities that weren’t covered in the original price…additional pleasure that could be bartered.
“How much do you feel she’s worth?” I looked over his shoulder, catching the eye of yet another lust-driven guest as he walked by.
&
nbsp; Ah, shit.
The supermarket owner noticed me, changed his direction, and closed the distance between us.
So, the bidding war had officially begun.
Markus heard the soft crunch of sand and slap of flip-flops, turning to face his competition.
Jordon Wordworth gave Markus a tight smile, entirely aware he’d interrupted a negotiation and wasn’t too happy about not having a chance to put his own bid forward. I had no doubt he was used to auctions and buying produce quickly, stocking his shelves before the other chains could grab a bargain.
There would be no bargain here.
Only extortion and my still undecided schizophrenia on whether I should sell Eleanor or keep her for myself.
Jinx.
Her name is Jinx.
She is not a person anymore. She is a possession. She is no different than any other girl who provides a service. Don’t mistake her for more; otherwise, the only curse she’ll cause will be you, you fucking idiot.
“Are you discussing that enchanting creature who had the balls to argue with you, Sinclair?” Jordon smirked. His dark hair held streaks of silver, painting him as older than his thirty-nine years. Despite his salt and pepper mop, his body was in better shape than Markus. He’d be athletic behind closed doors. He’d have the stamina to fuck a girl who wouldn’t stop begging for it the moment elixir was slipped down her throat.
“We are.” I nodded regally, hiding my sudden black animosity.
“Have you decided on a price?” Jordon asked, his tone unable to hide his craving of her.
“We were just about to discuss that.” I narrowed my gaze at Markus. “Weren’t we, Mr. Grammer?”
Markus swallowed and raked a hand through his floppy hair. “For the entire night? Not just a few hours?”
I shoved hands into my pants pockets so I didn’t dig my thumbs into his eye sockets and bash their heads together. “If you think you can last that long.” My smirk was thick and condescending. “As you saw, gentlemen, she has spirit.”
Jordon groaned under his breath. “I want her every night of my stay. I’ll pay an extra twenty-thousand a session with her.”
Twenty fucking thousand?
My temper increased a thousand degrees. “Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Wordworth? Twenty wouldn’t even buy an hour with her.” I couldn’t swallow back fresh fury. “And as you’re aware, I’ve already been overly generous to you. I’ve gifted you one night. That’s free, Mr. Wordworth. And now you insult me by offering—”
“Fifty thousand,” Markus rushed. “Fifty k for five hours.”
I pinned him with a feral scowl. “You’ve just offered me less than Wordworth. Fifty for five hours? That’s ten an hour. I already said twenty would be too low.”
“Fine.” Markus wiped his mouth. “Seventy.”
I bowed politely. “Good day, gentlemen. I’m highly confident you’ll enjoy the talents of Neptune and Calico. They’re both exceedingly proficient at delivering a session guaranteed to leave you—”
“One hundred thousand, Sinclair. For however long you want.”
I paused.
My heart crashed and clawed to hold out my hand for such a sum, only to shred it into confetti and throw it in the sea. Normally, that figure would sway me. I’d pat myself on the back for a well-orchestrated deal and snap my fingers to ensure a staff member scurried off to prepare the goddess in question.
But now…now there was hesitation.
A pause, a reluctance—that motherfucking envy that filled me with resentment and rivalry, acting as if I had to compete with these bastards, stewing with malice at the very thought of one of them tasting what I hadn’t.
My hands slipped from my pockets and curled tightly into fists.
I very, very much wanted to punch him. Punch both of them.
Once they were broken and bleeding, I’d be fully within my right to claim my prize. To return to Jinx as the victor and push her to the sand, strip her clothes, spread her legs, and fucking thrust over and—
“Sinclair, glad I found you.” Dr Campbell appeared from the sandy side path that led to his surgery. His forehead furrowed as he noticed the three of us, testosterone ripe in the air, aggression a distinct purr beneath it.
Nodding at the guests, he cleared his throat and pulled a white bottle of pills from his cargo shorts. For a doctor, he kept his uniform lax, adopting the tropical relaxation instead of retaining strict professionalism.
I’d have a word with him about that.
I’d remind him he wasn’t retired…yet.
“Here. Jinx needs to take these for the next week at least. It’s just a comprehensive vitamin and a few other bits and bobs to boost her system—from your own pharmaceutical company.” Pushing the bottle into my palm, he had the audacity to cup my elbow and guide me away from the panting men already enjoying fantasies of fucking a girl who’d fainted at my feet.
“Are you forgetting your place, Campbell?” I snarled, ripping my elbow from his control the moment we were far enough away.
His eyes flashed, nonplussed by my temper. “If you’re renting out Jinx, it’s with strict medical advisement that she be given a minimum of five days to adjust.”
We stood toe to toe. He was shorter, but he used his skills as a medical practitioner to stand on a proverbial box and tower over me.
“She’s perfectly recovered,” I seethed. “No ill effects of her fainting episode. I personally checked she was eating before leaving her to her own devices.”
He shook his head. “One afternoon of food won’t be enough.” He lowered his voice to ensure the impatient guests didn’t overhear. “Her system has no reserves. It will take time to replace what she’s lost, not just one meal. If you put her in Euphoria; if you make her take the elixir”—his eyes narrowed— “for the second time in as many days, I’m afraid she might suffer worse than low blood pressure and mineral deficiency.”
I crossed my arms. “I appreciate your concern, but dabbling in my business affairs is not permitted. Jinx is here to work. I won’t have a freeloader on my shores.”
“So, you’d rather have a dead goddess, is that it?”
I laughed quietly, icily. “She won’t die from a night of fucking, Campbell.”
“No, she’ll die from that damn elixir.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “It’s too potent, Sinclair. It wreaks havoc on hormones and imbalances the natural cycle of just about every system in a human being. They forget to drink, eat. They can’t sleep or rest until it’s run its course. The adrenaline alone that feeds the inflated libido causes hyperawareness, rapid blood flow, and drenches the brain in—”
“I don’t need a science lesson. I’m fully aware of what the body undergoes.”
“Do you?” He scowled. “Have you personally sampled the drug you expect others to take?”
I barked a chuckle. A chuckle that vibrated with ridicule and disbelief.
Me?
Take elixir?
Fuck, the world wasn’t ready for that.
Any girl in my radius wouldn’t be ready for that horror.
I struggled to contain myself on a good day.
If I took one droplet of that substance?
Fuck me, it would be a shit-show.
An endless, BDSM, no-holds-barred, black-listed pornography where the girl most likely ended up in pieces.
An image of Eleanor with bite marks all over her pristine skin, sprays of cum all over her face, rope burns on her ankles, cuff bruises on her wrists…dead from my lust, suddenly swamped my mind.
Immediately, my chuckle turned to a choke, and I coughed.
The reminder of what I would be capable of was better than any argument or negotiation.
Eleanor—Jinx—had to be kept as far away from me as fucking possible.
I’d retained my humanity by refusing to partake in what I sold. I didn’t cripple beneath my urges. I wouldn’t start now.
Rattling the bottle with the pills inside, I levelled an arctic
look at Dr Campbell. “She gets three days.” Raising my head and my voice, so the two impatient guests could hear, I added, “The first man to pay one-hundred-and-fifty thousand wins four hours with the spirited, wicked-tongued Jinx.”
Both men agreed at the same time.
I didn’t know who spoke first, and I didn’t care.
I needed a swim.
I needed the ocean where the salt could put out any fire and the coolness could temper any rage.
I needed to sink deep, deep to the reef below and swim with my fellow finned monsters, curbing my urges as surely as they curbed theirs, doing our best not to take advantage of our place on the top of the food chain.
I’d learned from them the art of sheathing sharp teeth and gliding elegantly past our prey—hiding a predator’s privilege, fighting the need to eradicate every morsel in our path, pretending we weren’t a weapon naturally designed to kill.
Chapter Nineteen
AFTER THE MANIA OF the past thirty-six hours or so, Sully left me alone and peace reigned.
I didn’t budge from that table laden with food all afternoon, taking my time to eat what I could out of each dish. When I grew full, I paused and curled up my legs to watch the golden sun glitter on turquoise water, spangling diamonds into my eyes.
When I grew thirsty, I sipped from the ice-cold carafe of mint and mango-infused water I found in the kitchenette. And when I grew peckish again, I returned to sampling, moaning often at the explosion of flavours and appreciating the culinary masterpieces of cuisine.
Even at island temperature and exposed to humidity, nothing could ruin the subtle and spicy tastes of so many exotic dishes, and I became obsessed with clearing each meal, so the chef wouldn’t think I didn’t love their creations when it was the best food I’d ever tasted.
Better than any food truck Scott and I had sampled. Better than any of his shoestring budget cooking or my ill-fated attempts at baking. Definitely better than the slop the Mexicans had fed me in the dark.
What had happened to the other girls imprisoned with me? Where had Tess ended up? Did she have such a difficult introduction to her new ‘master’ as I did? What about Scott? Was he desperately trying to find me, or had he moved on and left me as an unanswered mystery?
Once a Myth (Goddess Isles Book 1) Page 14
