by Nero Seal
I don’t get him… He tried to kill me not long ago, now he offers me his life. He’s unstable and should be put down, then why can’t I kill him? That would solve my problem. That would solve Ejder’s problem. Maybe it would even solve Slater’s problem, but how can I kill him when he does something like this?
Never dropping his focus from Talha, Slater licked the edge of the knife, and blood mixed with saliva. Talha cringed.
“What the fuck are you doing? Stop!” He tried to release his fingers, but Slater’s hands clasped around his palm, guiding the blade deeper into his tongue.
Without thinking, Talha thrust his other thumb into Slater’s mouth, sliding it under the blade, over the tongue, and hissed as the knife bit into his knuckle.
The smile evaporated from Slater’s face, giving way to a weird, unreadable expression. His fingers released Talha’s armed hand, then clasped over the other, and rapacious lips closed around the thumb. The lacerated tongue lapped over Talha’s skin, mixing their blood. A heavy pink touched Slater’s cheeks, dropping the eyelid of his healthy eye closed, as he craned his neck lavishing Talha’s digit with his eager mouth.
“Huh? Isn’t that funny? Now we are blood-bound, Master.”
It took Talha a moment to come around before he snatched his hand away. “This is gross…”
Slater licked his lips, then grinned. “Slater made up his mind. Slater stays.”
“No,” Talha said as hard as he could. “Slater doesn’t. You leave, or one of us dies.”
“Master could have killed Slater, but Master didn’t. Master is kind. Slater realized that to have a perfect master, Slater has to mold him. All the others were failures because they were established, but Master is young. Master is good material. Master can be what Slater needs.”
Mold me? Does he think I can be manipulated and controlled?
“No,” Talha repeated. He put the hose aside and propped his palm against the carpet, ready to get up, but a scorching hand landed over his knee.
“There is no escape from the deal. Slater stays. Slater belongs to Master. Master shouldn’t worry, Slater won’t harm anyone who Master holds dear.”
With cat-like grace, Slater lowered his chest, pressing it to the carpet, his pelvis rocking as his pink tongue lapped over Talha’s shoe, smearing blood all over the surface.
“That’s disgusting. Stop it.” Contempt quirked Talha’s upper lip.
“Slater will be good. Slater will bring Europe to Master. If Master wishes, Slater will burn the whole world to the ground. Slater will do everything for Master as long as Master keeps Slater entertained,” Slater hissed and pushed his upper body up and forward, so his chest touched Talha’s knee; the left side of his face contorted with a grimace of hurt.
Everything? Talha tried to shake the ripper’s words off, but the gambling ambition, the same one that drove him from Mardin to Istanbul, inflamed his chest. But what price do I have to pay for it?
Tilting his head to the side, Talha picked up the hose and extended his hand, offering Slater the mouthpiece of the hookah. “Pull. It will ease the pain.”
A flicker of a victory smile lit Slater’s face for a split second, before he obediently opened his mouth, squeezed the metal part between his bloody lips, then sucked.
HALF-EXPECTING EJDER TO RETURN, Talha left Slater in his room, and moved down the corridor, searching his pockets for his cell phone. Before his foot landed on the marble staircase, the front door flew open, and a group of men, searching the hall with gun muzzles, entered his mansion. Holding a gun with both hands, Ejder shot a glance around, before his eyes focused on Talha.
Heaving a sigh, Talha descended, then waved his hand in the air, demanding attention. “You’re all dismissed. Call for the cleaning crew.”
“Is he dead?” The hard line of Ejder’s mouth quirked in an arrogant smile.
“No, he isn’t. And you are going back to Mardin,” Talha said, passing by his disheveled brother and the group of armed men. Turning to enter the kitchen, he raised his voice. “Wasn’t I clear? Dismiss.”
“What the fuck, Abi?”
Grabbing a clean glass from the counter, Talha poured some water, then drained it in one go.
“You are returning to Mardin,” he repeated even before he took the glass away from his mouth; his breath misted the transparent walls.
“No, I’m not. I’m staying here, with you.” Snatching the glass from Talha’s hand, Ejder slammed it against the counter. “What the fuck is going on? Why didn’t you kill him?”
“Listen to me…” Stealing a glance at the door, Talha lowered his voice. “I don’t have any intention of killing him.”
“What? He almost killed us!”
“After you drew a gun! And now you brought people here. What did you tell them? That I can’t control my new asset? Do they know he is Iblīs?” Silence hung, so Talha added, “That’s why you are leaving. I can’t run the business and worry about you two murdering each other. You threatened Iblīs. I haven’t heard anyone ever surviving that. You shot at him. I hope he is sleeping now because if he isn’t, there is about to be a blood bath. What were you thinking?”
“Then fucking kill him!” Ejder’s nostrils flared as his short, agitated breathing broke out of his chest in heavy puffs. “You don’t need him. We managed without him just fine.”
“No. I won’t put a horse down because it threw me off once. I want to explore his potential. I’m willing to take my chances with him, and for that you have to leave. It’s final. Next time you pull out a gun, I might not be able to stop him.”
A small muscle under Ejder’s eye twitched, betraying his unbalanced inner state. He licked his chapped lips, bared his teeth in a quick snarl, before dropping his chin. “What if he kills you?”
“Then you will be the next head of the Demir family. How cool would that be?”
“Not funny!” Ejder said, and Talha smiled. His hand landed on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“I’ll be fine. I need you in Mardin anyway. You leave tonight.”
EJDER GRANTED HIM a last pleading look in an attempt to make his brother reconsider. Implacable, Talha moved to the stairs. The door clicked closed behind his back, shutting off all foreign sounds. Quiet again, his house felt too big, yet too crowded with the two of them in it. Slater’s mere presence depressed him, and Talha needed a few hours of solitude to straighten his thoughts. He also needed to reorganize his group’s structure and delegate Ejder’s tasks to his lieutenants, but he wasn’t in the mood for that. His knuckles still burned from hitting Slater, and the drop of adrenaline in his blood made him feel sluggish, drowsy.
For a moment, he considered taking a nap but that would mean returning to the bedroom where the reaper slept on the bloody carpet. The thought brought back the haunting feeling of alienation, and the overpowering stench of chlorine only aggravated it. Though the body had been removed, and the cleaning crew scrubbed his house spotless, Talha couldn’t shake off the deep-bone aversion the events instilled in him. Nothing felt clean anymore, and he itched to take a shower. Slater’s blood on his knuckles burned like acid, yet he kept standing in the hall, unmoving.
The battering ram of memories charged into him, providing visuals of Slater’s bloody mouth, scarred back, round ass, and the heated look of the lewd eyes that stared at him, through him.
“Fuck my life!” Shame punched him in the face. He winced, spun on his heel, and rushed down the corridor toward the library, trying to escape guilt, shame, and memories.
THE BLACK SILHOUETTES OF TALL bookcases towered above him in the gloom. Weak light filtered through a tall mashrabiya window, casting ornaments to the walnut floor. A long desk stood closer to the opposite wall, with a marble globe on top of it.
Right… The library… The memory of his escape surfaced. A heavy book still lay on his stomach as he sprawled on a long leather sofa. He peered through the darkness, unable to remember switching the lights off. His back ached from the uncomf
ortable position, and his arm numbed from using it as a pillow. Sitting up, he cracked his neck, restarting the blood circulation and put his feet down.
“What the fuck?” He blurted as his foot stepped on something warm and soft. Frowning, he watched the dark shadow at his feet move. A shaggy head lifted, and a sleepy smile stretched the reaper’s lips.
“Morning, Master.”
“URGH!” Weariness crashed into Talha’s core as he sank his fingers into his hair and slumped onto the soft leather. “What are you doing here?”
“Master didn’t come to bed, so Slater came looking. Master should sleep. Slater will guard. Don’t worry, Master. Slater is calm now. Slater will be good.”
This must be a nightmare… Filling his lungs with air, Talha got up and stepped over the reaper as his feet carried him to the door.
“Master?” Slater’s voice picked up alert notes, and Talha glanced back. A single-visible eye glinting in the dark, Slater’s palm hit the sofa, his elbow quivered, as the reaper forced himself upright. “Where are you going?”
Slater swayed on his feet, palming the right side of his belly where the bullet had hit him. Talha didn’t care.
“Out. Don’t follow me.” Pushing the library door open, he strode toward the hall.
“Out where?”
“None of your business.” Approaching the main entrance, Talha reached out to grab the door handle, when vicious fingers seized his elbow, causing him to turn one hundred and eighty.
Their glares met. Despite the dark and swollen areas covering Slater’s face, Talha saw how pallid his skin was. “A woman again? Why? Wasn’t Slater good?”
“Were you good?” Talha almost laughed. It took him a moment to find his words and another one to form them into sentences. “Are you for real? You’re overwhelming and annoying. You murdered in my fucking house. You tell me. Were you good?” Talha reiterated as calm as he could.
“Slater thought Master is over it. Master didn’t kill Slater. It means Master accepted Slater.”
“The deal stands, but don’t push me. I’m tired of you and your quirks. Prove yourself useless, and I’ll get rid of you like a mad dog. Now, if your needs are satisfied, we have no business left to do today. Don’t follow me, and don’t kill anyone. If you do, our deal is off. For good.”
“No, Master can’t,” Slater’s cheek quivered, and Talha shook the reaper’s hand off himself.
“Who is forbidding me, Slater? You?” No reply. Talha added, “I can do whatever I want. Remember this well, and don’t leave the house. If you are hungry—order delivery. The money is in the safe in my bedroom. There is no lock you can’t open, right? Get yourself busy.”
Slater’s jaw clenched, and Talha strolled to his car.
“When will you be back, Master?” The question disturbed the warm, quiet night. Talha ignored, so Slater yelled, “Don’t run from me, Master! Get used to me!”
THOUGH TALHA RETURNED HOME the next evening, Slater didn’t show up for three more days. Without the reaper, his life fell into accustomed grooves, and for the first time in weeks, Talha called a meeting at home.
Folding his hands behind his head, Talha leaned back into the tall throne-like chair that stood in the head of the wooden П-shaped table. Twelve people dressed in refined suits took their places. Bright sun, breaking through the transparent curtains, played with the silverish marble floor, adding to the morning serenity.
With everyone seated, Talha leaned forward, clasped his fingers on the tabletop, and looked each man in the eye.
“I called you in because I have some announcements to make.” The massive double door of the Grand Hall opened, and Slater slipped in. His icy eyes focused on Talha as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the marble wall. Talha squinted, examining his pale features, tense stance, and yellowish, healing bruises. A few men shot curious looks at Slater before returning their attention to Talha.
Dinçer stiffened, and his chiseled face morphed into an impenetrable mask. His first thought about chasing the reaper away disappeared, as Talha realized that he’d never seen Slater around people. It was a good opportunity to learn his behavior and understand how close Talha could keep him. Deciding to wait and watch, Talha continued. “You probably already know that Ejder left Istanbul. What you don’t know is that he will be taking over Southeast Anatolia.”
A murmur ran through the room, and Talha raised his hand demanding silence.
“Talha, with all due respect, that’s my region,” The massive frame of Güvenç, the current leader of Southeast Anatolia, stood up, his face red. Hotheaded and short-tempered, he had been a great executer but proved a poor leader. Talha had considered transferring him for a long time. Now the opportunity had been provided for him.
“Was your region,” Talha corrected. “You are coming to Istanbul to take over Ejder’s duties.”
“Talha…”
“I’m afraid, this is not negotiable,” Talha added in a firm voice. “I have a specific task for you that no one else could complete with perfection. You are a military man. Leaving you in Mardin would be a waste of your talent. Your destiny isn’t drugs, it’s weapons, and you know it. You are bored in Mardin. You are not the lap dog your wife wants you to be. Form an army for me. A mercenary army with the best people. Train them. Make sure no one can best them. Can you do this?”
Güvenç wavered, messing his reddish bush of hair with thick, pink fingers. Talha knew exactly what the man was thinking. The drug business promised far more than a mercenary army could ever bring. Before the man was able to refuse, Talha added, “Of course, you will get Ejder’s share, plus thirty percent of the income the army provides. This isn’t really a choice, Güvenç. I need Ejder in Mardin, and I need someone here. I would prefer it to be you, but you can try to make a deal with Ejder to stay as second-in-command in Mardin. What will it be?”
Under the drilling attention of eleven men, Güvenç backed down. His face, now a lighter shade of pink, relaxed as he slumped back into his seat. It wasn’t a bad offer. Everyone knew it. Even if Ejder’s share was smaller than the current one Güvenç had, the Marmara region was more profitable, and with its ports and open water, held greater potential.
Catching the interested gazes from those who counted profit faster, Talha pressed, “What will it be, Güvenç?”
“At your command, Reis.” The man bowed his head.
“Great.” Talha smiled with his lips only. “Before we start with the updates, does anyone have questions?”
“What about Iblīs?” Salik, the current leader of Sakarya Province, slurred. His thin upper lip curled up, hiding below his massive, beak-like nose, displayed pink gum with black holes where his front teeth had once been. “Is it true that you got him?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Talha saw Slater’s head snap to the side. His electric gaze burned through him, yet Talha refused to grant him his whole attention.
“We are negotiating,” Talha ducked the question, and a blinding smile split Slater’s face. Watching it morph into the arrogant grin, Talha clarified, “But I have yet to see his usefulness.”
“When will we get to meet that sick fuck?” Salik pressed.
“You won’t,” Talha deadpanned. “If things work out, Iblīs will remain my personal asset, and I don’t see any reason to disclose his identity.”
Separating from the wall, Slater silently moved around the table giving each man a long, piercing stare. Dinçer’s neck strained. His dark eyes peering up at the reaper as his colorless lips hardened. Talha knew he was ready to pull his gun and shoot Slater.
Slater’s eyes heated with recognition as his gaze lingered over Dinçer.
“I know you,” the liquid voice stated, electrifying the atmosphere as their glares clashed.
At any other time, Talha would have let the situation escalate to see how far they would take it, but too many curious gazes were chained to Slater already.
Talha got up, tugging the blanket of attention
back to himself. “Don’t interrupt. If you want to stay—be quiet.”
“Who is this?” Salik touched his nose with his index finger, keeping a suspicious eye on Slater.
“No one. Please ignore him.”
“No one, yet he is here, in a closed meeting, where he can see our faces.” Salik snorted and passed a knowing look to everyone around him. “He could testify.”
Talha almost rolled his eyes, but he understood the concern.
“Slater is my consultant, my protégé. He grew up in England and will be helping me develop a new channel. Now, once your curiosity is satisfied, let’s get to the point.”
The corners of Slater’s mouth stretched in a thin smile as he passed Dinçer. His fingers ran over the back of his chair and Talha could swear he did it with a single purpose—to make Dinçer nervous. Moving from one chair to another, the reaper examined every man present.
Before anyone asked more unnecessary questions that might provoke Slater to answer, Talha said, “Dinçer, why don’t you start?”
“Yes, Reis.” Dinçer’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. He got up and ran his palms down his black suit to straighten invisible creases. Talha sat down. “For the last three weeks, five organizations stepped under the Demir Group. Since the Kırım group joined us, we dominate the Marmara region. Our current control over the drug market in Marmara and Southeast Anatolia is over eighty percent, which allowed us to fix the prices of heroin and marijuana.”
