Serpentine

by J. Kearston

  Sucking hard, I pump the rest of his length quickly, reveling in each of the curses that leave his mouth. Bobbing my head, I alternate using my mouth and hand, waiting until he’s lubed up well to switch to my ringed hand. There’s nothing sharp that might slice into him, but knowing Stryker, hearing the chains clink against each other, drawing his focus to his symbolic claim on me, it’ll only serve to work him up more.

  His free hand palms the back of my head, gently thrusting into my mouth. A soft groan has my ears perking up, realizing that Bane and Mason are jacking off, listening in on us. With a wicked grin and renewed vigor, I work Stryker harder, taking him deep in my throat and humming, letting the vibrations bring him right to the edge.

  Threading his fingers through my hair, the control he was fighting to hold on to breaks. Fucking my mouth, his hips buck erratically until he comes down my throat with a strangled shout. My nails bite into his thigh as I ride through it all, and when he stills, I swirl my tongue over him, swallowing down every last drop of cum.

  Removing my mouth with a wet pop, he shudders, breathing ragged as he looks down at me. Helping me to my feet, he smashes his mouth against mine, ignoring the taste of himself on my lips. “And you call me a silver-tongued devil. Fuck, gorgeous, suck the soul right out of my body, why don’t you?”

  Chuckling, I kiss him once more before letting him get dressed, heading down the hall to stretch out on the bed while we wait for dinner to be ready. Bane is fastening his pants when I walk in, and I waggle my eyebrows before flopping down beside him on my stomach.

  “I like house hunting as much as the next person, but I don’t think any natural hardwood has gotten that reaction out of me before. Find something good?”

  A low chuckle rumbles his chest as he sits up, smacking my ass as he reaches for his phone on the floor beside the mattress. “Very.”

  Mason comes into the room, drying off his hair with a towel and leaving it sticking up every which way, basketball shorts slung low on his hips. “We can’t get out of this city fast enough.”

  I sit up, crossing my legs to make room on the bed as he sits, Stryker stretching out on his back behind me a moment later and tucking his arms behind his head. It’s cramped with all four of us on the twin sized mattress, but it seemed a waste of money to go bigger when we had to buy three and weren’t staying long.

  “Water that bad?”

  Mason scoffs. “No, I just can’t wait to break in the new place.” Snorting in amusement, I recline against Stryker as Mason runs a comb through his hair. “So, can I ask what you wanted enough to go back to that hellish apartment? No way were you attached to your clothes enough to deal with that bullshit.”

  Even though I’m sure they’re going to tell me I’m silly, I roll off of the bed, rummaging around in my bag until I pull out the photograph, taking my seat before passing it his way. “I hate them for what they did to me, and even more so with our new theory, but-“ I fiddle with the hem of my shirt awkwardly “-they were still my parents, you know? There were some good times in there too, and while I can cut them off and move on, aware of how toxic the situation was, there’s still that stupid, childlike part of me that isn’t willing to completely let go.”

  I sigh. “It’s hard sometimes to remember that the same people that were intentionally making me sick were the ones that brushed my hair and read me stories when I was up all night puking.” When none of them say anything, I look up, only to find Mason and Bane’s stoic faces. “What?”

  Mason’s lips are pressed into a thin line, so Bane answers, “I recognize them from the agency; the one that helps shifters get new IDs to start over. My grandfather and I moved a few times over the years; and one time, they were there with-“ he swallows “-their daughter. Few years younger than me and thin as a rail, and I asked my grandpa why, because I’d never actually seen a sick shifter before.” His golden eyes shine with remorse as he croaks, “And he told me to hush and mind my own business so we didn’t embarrass her.” He scrubs a hand down his face. “I didn’t even pick up on the fact you were human at the time, too many shifters around masking any potential unease. Or fuck, I don’t know, maybe I was drawn to you even then so you didn’t feel like a threat.”

  My heart skips a beat before plummeting into my stomach. Turning to Mason, his voice is as hard as his expression. He wars with himself before speaking, like it pains him to think about, much less discuss.

  “When I was turned... it was a bloodbath. I’d always been the odd man out, but I ran into a guy a few years older than me at the park and we ended up talking every time I found time to slip out of the house. I was eighteen, but didn’t have a cent to my name, unable to hold down a job at the time because of my temper, so I was still living at home. We became fast friends, and I invited him over for dinner one day, thinking he was homeless and it was getting colder.”

  He develops a faraway look, thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the towel. “And he turned into a monster. Slaughtered my parents, my brother and sister, before attacking me. I woke up when the police stormed into the house, covered in my family’s blood, and unable to give them a logical answer for what happened.”

  Tentatively, I reach out, putting a hand on his knee and stroking my thumb in comfort as he continues. “Obviously, I thought I was crazy; terrified in the chaos. I ended up not only shifting, but lashing out in defense, trying to escape. Killed them all and fled the city, following an invisible pull that I later discovered was the sire bond.”

  He clears his throat, still not meeting my eye. “Found James with what I now realize was your parents, and they fled while I was busy killing him.”

  Mentally, I do the math, guilt eating away at me as I croak, “When I ran off. They were looking for me, was checking in with James right after he turned you.”

  I startle as Stryker sits up behind me, banding his arms around my stomach and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Or they were looking for another incorruptible to replace you with,” he gently suggests. “James could have been working with them, going on a blood tasting spree trying to find one, ended up killing Mason’s family in a fit of frustration.”

  The scent of Mason’s blood drifts towards me as his nails bite into his palm. “But why turn me at all then? If they didn’t know you could turn an incorruptible and use the sire bond to control them, they would have only been able to find out by biting random humans or-“

  Bane finishes, “Or by working their way down family trees if they knew of one for sure, seeing if anyone inherited the gene.” He puts a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Accidental changes are uncommon, but they happen when the sire loses control in the heat of the moment. You know how delicate that switch is for us between venoms, and we don’t know what that’s like for the other animals that don’t have any natural venom. He likely thought you were dead when he left, tried to run after the bond set in so he could escape responsibility.”

  My stomach churns. “If they worked at the agency, it would've made it easy for them to snatch me and create new identities to stay off of the radar, especially if they killed my parents. Shifters aren’t going to look too closely at what happens with humans since you keep to yourselves so much.”

  Mason looks wrecked, and Bane isn’t faring much better as he brings up, “And give them access to a hell of a contact list to sell your blood. Gods only know how many people would consider joining forces if it meant a chance at getting their hands on her.”

  He looks at me, worry replacing his previous confidence. “Depending on how much your parents told them in their desperation to get you back, it might not be as simple as killing three people and moving somewhere secluded. We have no idea how many people know that you exist and are hunting for you.”

  Chapter 20

  Bane

  How the hell am I supposed to protect her from the entire goddamn world and still make sure that she has a life worth living?

  Mason helps Risa down from the cage so that she can take a break, leaving S
tryker and I sitting at our table, stewing in pensive silence. Finishing off another beer, I try to take at least a fraction of the edge off, but it’d take half the bar before I felt anything other than dread.

  Protecting my family is all I’ve ever been good at. If I can’t even do that anymore, I’m useless. We’ve promised her so much, but it turns out those vows were hewn from glass, fracturing around us a little more with every new revelation thrown our way.

  If we lose Risa, there won’t ever be a way to come back from the blow.

  “Breathe, B,” Stryker states beside me, glaring into the crowd, eyeing everyone like they’re a potential enemy. “We’re doing a hell of a lot of assuming. Until we actually find her parents and see how deeply this runs, we’re making it harder on ourselves by imagining the worst.”

  Sighing, I rub the back of my neck. “Being in the city isn’t helping. Either our guard is up and I’m jittery after relying on my senses so much, or they’re down, and I want to throw up from the onslaught. As far as I’m concerned, no matter when we leave, it isn’t soon enough.”

  He snorts in agreement, lifting his beer and keeping an eye on the hallway Risa disappeared down to use the bathroom. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Mason is casually leaning against the wall near the hallway, and when he suddenly straightens up, I instantly rise from my seat, trying to see what set him on alert. Stryker mirrors my move, working through the throng of bodies as we follow Mason’s line of sight, now livid.

  Blake uses the crowd to his advantage, and as soon as it becomes clear that our aversion to the humans surrounding us in mass is working against us, I whip out my phone. Making sure that there’s enough in the background to identify the place, I take a few pictures to prove he broke the restraining order by being here, mentally cursing human legalities when it would be so much easier to tear his throat out and be done with this bullshit.

  Though, it all circles back to wanting better for Risa than living out her life in a hidden bunker somewhere, perpetually on the run. If we kill him and can’t get out of the city and off grid quickly enough, our only option would be to kill the men arresting us, and then the hunting effort intensifies to the point even fake IDs won’t save us. I want better for her than that, so we’ll stick to playing the humans’ games.

  For now.

  A glance at Mason shows him talking to the bouncer, who promptly coordinates with another. Within a few minutes, Blake’s ass is getting tossed out the front door, and I record the entire thing, sending the files to Ryker and Thatcher, not giving a shit if it annoys them or not.

  By the time Risa emerges, she catches the tail end of events, sighing like she’s more fed up with the entire ordeal than actually upset. We end up reconvening at our table, the three of us in an even more foul mood than we showed up in tonight, and her looking mentally exhausted. That alone has me softening, realizing that our behavior isn’t helping the situation, potentially making it even harder for her to deal with.

  Taking a sip of her water bottle, she asks, “He do anything?”

  I shake my head, curbing some of the venom in my voice that naturally appears whenever thinking about that asshole. “Nah, simply walked around in the crowd a bit, and then was tossed out.”

  She frowns. “Why, though? To show you that he wasn’t afraid of Mason’s threats after all?”

  Stryker shrugs, finishing off his beer. “Maybe trying to goad us into reacting?”

  Scowling, Mason tips back in his chair. “After I made it clear I’d recorded everything at the apartment, after the initial fear wore off and he convinced himself he imagined the entire send off, I wouldn’t be surprised that he started scheming. Likely he had some plan to get evidence we attacked him so he could go after us for assault, or some shit. Either way, steering clear and gathering our own proof to build a case is still our best option to deal with him for now.”

  Risa takes another sip of her water. “At least until we draw my parents out. But if we’re abandoning ship afterward to deal with them anyway, I vote we go for broke and push him in front of a bus on our way out.”

  Laughing, I reach for her hand, only to chastise myself and try to cover the slip, despising the fact that I have to act like her brother-in-law in public to keep up appearances. It kills me, knowing that she’s mine and forced to pretend otherwise for the sake of humoring humans’ outdated ideals to keep them comfortable. It’s ridiculous that we have to pander to them, so their tiny minds don’t explode from being faced with anything other than what they’ve convinced themselves is the only way they’re allowed to live their lives, that anything different is wrong.

  They get upset over everything that doesn’t actually affect them in any way, yet ignore all of the tragedy and issues that do, writing those off as normal, simply accepting ‘that’s the way it is’.

  It’s astounding they’re considered the top of the food chain when they’re so damn dumb.

  Her boss, Mindy, strides towards us with determined steps that have my eyes narrowing, expecting the rant she’s about to dive into. Her long, dark hair sways with every step, bright, brown eyes locked on Risa as she makes a beeline right for her. As soon as she reaches us, she clasps her hands in front of her and gives Risa puppy dog eyes, begging.

  “I need your help. And before you say no, remember that I took you back after you disappeared without giving you a hard time about it because I adore you,” she rushes out.

  Risa’s suspicious gaze matches all three of ours. “What’d you do?”

  Mindy holds her hands up innocently. “I didn’t do anything. It’s Jessica; she didn’t show up, and I can’t get ahold of her.”

  It’s all nonsense to me, but not Risa. She sits up straighter in her seat, face blanching. “Not just no, but hell no.”

  Mindy sticks her bottom lip out, pouting, and takes Risa’s hand. “It comes with a bonus.”

  Scoffing, Risa objects, “It’s not about the money, and you damn well know it.”

  “What’s going on?”

  She turns to face me as a blonde chick comes to stand beside Mindy. “Jessica and Crystal are up front today.”

  The girl I’m assuming is Crystal joins Mindy in the coercion attempt. “Pretty please? I really need the money it’ll bring in to cover rent, Risa, and it won’t work with one person, you know that!”

  Groaning, Risa starts to break in the face of the sob story, and the two vultures see it too, grinning as victory comes within their grasp. “Can’t you get Sara or Lucy to do it?” she begs, but by the resignation in her voice, she already knows.

  Mindy tucks a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear. “They don’t know the routine like you do. You’ve watched Crystal and Jessica practice more than any of them, and you’re better at improvising.”

  Crystal waggles her eyebrows. “You get half of the tips.” She glances between all three of us with a knowing smirk, but settles on Mason when she adds, “Besides, I’m sure you’d kill to see her in action up there, wouldn’t you?”

  Risa glares at Mason to get her out of this so she can blame him as a cop out, but he raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “They’re making some good points, babe.” Stryker and I attempt to smother our smiles at her annoyed face, but by the triumphant gleam in Crystal’s eye, we didn’t pull it off discreetly.

  “Motherfucking traitors,” Risa mutters, getting to her feet with a scowl. “You can fight over the chores tomorrow then, because I’m taking the week off for this.”

  Grinning, Mason quickly shouts, “Nose goes,” and touches his pointer to the tip of his nose, Stryker a fraction of a second behind him.

  “You fuckers!”

  Laughs surround me as Risa leaves with Mindy and Crystal towards the changing rooms to get ready, but the tension leaves her shoulders a bit as she chuckles right alongside my brothers. By the time they’re at the hallway, walking past the bouncer stationed at the entrance, she’s more animated, like she’s starting to get excited by the prospect despite all of her
protests.

  “We might die, but what a way to go out,” Stryker declares, looking a bit better himself.

  Mason’s smile is still strained, Blake’s presence casting a cloud over the evening, but he’s trying. And really, that’s all any of us can do right now; our best. It may not be much, or nearly enough, but we’ve faced impossible odds before and made it out the other side. All I can hope for is this to be a blip in our lives that we look back on in a decade, shaking our heads at how much we tortured ourselves for no reason.

  The music starts to shift from heavy, upbeat bass to something more sultry, the lighting dimming even further. People taper off from dancing, vying for closer spots to the stage with excited shouts and catcalls, the regulars understanding what the change in atmosphere signifies. As much as we hate the bodies jostling into us, like hell we’re about to sit on the sidelines for this, especially with how nervous Risa was.

  Crystal emerges first, warming up the crowd and dancing, and I cock my head to the side, surprised. Honestly, I was expecting a basic strip show, but as the music shifts alongside her movements, it’s more like telling an erotic story. She manages to convey the shy, innocent, imprisoned vibe well, despite the transparent scarves layered over her body.

  When Risa appears, it becomes hard to breathe, everything else falling away. Around her waist is a layer of sheer, dark purple and black scarves, fringed in gold that catches the low lighting. Her black leather bra is laced together loosely in the front, leaving an abundance of skin on display that has my mouth watering.

  Slowly, she approaches the other woman like a wolf eyeing a rabbit, each step fluid and seamless. With her fingertips, she caresses Crystal’s jaw, skimming over her bottom lip with a wicked glint in her violet eyes. The two begin a dance of light and dark clashing, balancing each other until it’s clear that Risa starts to corrupt her, Crystal’s movements become more brazen.