Calico Descending

by Keri Lake

  There’s a sense of satisfaction in his words that I don’t say aloud. Had he wanted to, I’m confident he could’ve done those things. “I’m glad you didn’t. They would’ve hurt you worse. Or killed you for it. Either way, I can’t bear to imagine the consequences of that.”

  “I’ll never allow another to hurt you that way again. No matter the cost.”

  “Then, I pray they don’t.”

  Chapter 24

  There is very little light in this place. No reprieve from the darkness, but I’ve come to appreciate this, as I lay beside Valdys, naked and warm. With my leg draped over his body, and the scent of sex on the air, I’m content for the first time in my life.

  The metallic smell of his skin is one I can’t possibly imagine growing bored of, as it taunts the back of my jaw for a taste. His chest rises and falls, while he sleeps beside me, like a warrior resting after war. In what little light there is, I trail my gaze over the scars that cover his massive body, desperately trying not to imagine what could’ve put them there, though some tell obvious stories.

  The circular patch at his ribcage, which looks as if it’s healed itself in shiny new skin, was branded by something torched by flames. The long stripes across the ridges in his muscled stomach bear the same marks of the whip that now scar my back. Three stripes at his flank hold a striking resemblance to the claws of the creature that tried to attack me back in the observatory room. All the evidence of his pain and suffering etched permanently into his flesh.

  I lean forward to kiss the one closest to me, careful not to wake him, but he startles. Fingers clamp around my jaw, the pressure warning me that in a single snap, he could break the bones in my face. Instead, he blinks, eyes still heavy with sleep.

  “Shhh.” I run my fingertips over his tense arm that’s still attached to my face, and his muscles turn lax. “It’s only me, Valdys.”

  On a long exhale, he falls back against his pillow, releasing me.

  I kiss his arm and chest, offering a constant stream of contact, so he doesn’t make the mistake of inadvertently snapping my neck, and I feel his palm run over my head, letting me know he’s not entirely asleep.

  The salt of his skin hits my tastebuds like the single missing ingredient of a perfect meal, when I drag my tongue over the scars on his unnaturally bulging pecs, which flinch against me. The metallic flavor lingers on my lips, and I lick it away with the urge to fill my mouth with that taste. Gaze roving his body, I take in the long flaccid shape of his curved cock, imagine it inside my mouth. How delicious the taste, to suck it from his skin. To wrap my lips over its thickness. I’ve never done this to another male, but I’ve heard the other girls talk about their experiences with the guards, and listened to Roz describe Kenny’s cock in more detail than I care to know. How putting the lips there and sucking his manhood could bring forth the same fluids he put inside me the night before.

  She claims it’s the greatest gift a girl can give, and after the way he relieved me, it’s what I want to give in return.

  With slow and cautious exertion, I crawl down his body, careful not to disturb him, though he watches me through sleepy eyes, the corner of his lips lifting with a smile. Only a slight shift disrupts his otherwise peaceful form, and seconds later, I hear him breathing hard through his nose, only just on the cusp of a snore.

  I slide farther down his legs, until my chin is at his groin, and I stare down at the length of his resting cock. There isn’t a chance that it’ll all fit in my mouth, but I’m desperate to try, just the same.

  I lower myself to breathe in that scent, still seasoned with the aroma of sex, and drag my tongue along the surface. The muscles in his stomach flex, and his hips shift beneath me. He lets out a forced breath, but his eyes still remain closed, brows pinched together in a pained expression. It tells me of the depth of his sleep, because I’m certain these ministrations would’ve had him snapping awake, just as before.

  I have to believe a killer, like Valdys, never truly sleeps, but he hasn’t stopped me.

  By the time my tongue hits the tip, his shaft is hard as a rock, the veins sticking out, pulsing with blood. Fluid draws my attention to the small slit, and curiosity compels me to lap it up with my tongue. More of that salty flavor puckers my tastebuds, and I slide my mouth over the top, reveling in the delicious taste of his flesh.

  A quiet moan of appreciation escapes him, and he lifts his head, staring down his body at me. “Cali … what’re doin’?” The slur of exhaustion clings to his ragged voice.

  Shaft in hand, I lift my face from his cock, my tongue already craving the salty flavor. “Shhhh. Lay back down, Valdys,” I command, just like before.

  Without argument, he does as he’s told, and I take him in my mouth again, pushing myself down over his shaft. My lips only reach the halfway point, when his tip hits the back of my throat, tripping my gag reflex.

  Too far. Way too far.

  I pull back, sliding my mouth back up the ridges of his flesh to the tip, and careful to avoid my teeth, I suck at his flesh as if searching for water in a stem.

  His hips thrust forward, and his hands grip the sheets at either side of his body. Head shooting off the pillow, he stares down at me, eyes more awake than before. “Cali, please.”

  “I want to taste you, Valdys. Lie back down.”

  “Your lips are torture!”

  I frown and glance up to him. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.

  “No! God, no. Please don’t stop.”

  With a smile, I grip him again. “Then, lie back, or I will.”

  He eases back onto the pillow, his chest rising and falling faster than before, and when I take him in my mouth again, he grunts, the muscles in his stomach clenching and unclenching. I slide my lips down his cock and back up again, and his hips buck in response. “Yes, just like that!”

  The pleasure in his voice prompts me to do it again. And again. And again. Until I’m sliding up and down his shaft in the same tempo that he pushed in and out of me. The flavor of his skin fills my mouth and mingles with my saliva that I suck away on each plunge. Faster and faster. I’m ravenous for the taste and the small bit of fluid that rewards me on each withdrawl.

  His hand falls against the back of my head, hips thrusting forward. “Yes. Oh, fuck, yes.”

  His curses goad me on, and I remember Roz telling me how much they enjoy their balls played with.

  Squeeze, she said.

  The moment I take the large, bulbous bit of flesh in hand, he bucks so hard, his tip smacks the back of my throat. Grunting and growling, he flexes beneath me, pushing up, as I slide down, like he’s having sex with my mouth.

  The thought of that stirs an inexplicable excitement inside of me, and I squeeze him harder, until a spurt of something warm and salty hits the roof of my mouth. I yank his cock out in time to see white ribbons of fluid spring into the air. I watch in awe as it falls against my hand still wrapped tight around his shaft, and lean forward to catch it on my tongue. Licking it away from my lips, I take him in my mouth again and suck the fluids down my throat, savoring the taste of him.

  Another spurt shoots forth, and he groans, lifting his head and slamming it back against the pillow. “Christ, woman!”

  I unhand him and lick his release from my thumb and finger, not allowing a single drop to go to waste. “You taste so good.”

  With his legs spread, stomach muscles clenched tight, while staring down at me, he looks heavenly. Like a God. Without a word, he tugs my arm, urging me back up his body, and wraps me up in his arms. His chest expands and contracts as though he’s just run miles through the desert, and the rapid thumping at my ear is his heart racing.

  “I want to taste you again.”

  “You can taste me any time you like.”

  I push up from him, excitement stirring inside me once more. “Now?”

  Another rumble of laughter vibrates in his chest as he pulls me against him. “No, crazy girl. Not no
w. I need sleep. You need sleep.”

  “I can’t sleep.” I stretch my arms across the expanse of his body. “I have bad dreams when I sleep.”

  He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “I have bad dreams, too. But tonight, with you, I don’t remember them.”

  “Do you think I’ll forget them by morning?”

  “You’ll have to close your eyes to find out.”

  I snort at that and nuzzle my face into his chest. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “I didn’t learn from anything. I just like the taste of you.”

  “In that case, I get to taste you next time.”

  “You mean … lick me there?”

  “Lick, suck, lots of things.”

  “No one has ever done that to me before.”

  “I know, sweet girl. If they did, you’d know what it feels like to sleep well.”

  Arms wrapped around him, I tip my head back to look up at him. “You’ll do that for me tomorrow night?”

  “Every night, if you’ll let me.”

  “If it means sleep? Definitely.”

  I blink open my eyes to the darkness, but somehow, I don’t remember my dreams. Beside me, Valdys sleeps, his face content and devoid of the lines that ordinarily crease his forehead. He looks irresistible enough to kiss, but I don’t, for fear that I’ll wake him.

  Perhaps I’ve slept a few hours, maybe less. It’s hard to tell in this room that remains a constant shade of nightfall.

  The click of the door has my attention snapping toward it, and Valdys startles beneath me. Only Medusa enters the cell, one arm behind her back as she tosses a new uniform onto the floor, and her other arm joins the first behind her. “I’ve brought you fresh clothes.”

  The tone of her voice seems more somber, and the darkness of the room keeps me from seeing her face to know if it’s actual tears I’m hearing.

  I push up from the bed, but stop short when Valdys grips tight to my arm. Twisting around, I let him slide his palm beneath my chin and kiss me. As I pull away, I notice his eyes are on Medusa. Wary. Untrusting.

  Perhaps deadly.

  “I’ll see you again,” I whisper, offering one more kiss to his stubbled cheek, and his eyes are on me again, as I push up from the bed.

  Tucking his arm beneath his head, he seems to take some pleasure in watching me dress, as if Medusa isn’t even in the room. He smiles, tossing a shred of my former uniform onto the floor.

  I hide my smile as I pull up my pants, recalling just hours ago, when he tore them away.

  As I follow Medusa out of his cell, I glance back to Valdys, stretched out in his bed, shamelessly on display. I’d give anything to crawl back beside him.

  Once outside of the door, I wait for Medusa to take the lead, as always, but instead, she ushers me forward. With a frown, I step ahead of her, and if I’m not mistaken, the rims of her eyes are red, as though she hasn’t slept a wink.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, when we step onto the elevator and she stands in front of me.

  “Of course.” Her voice is flat, but quieter than usual, and I can’t imagine what’s troubling her.

  “Thank you for what you did last night. I was in so much pain, I--” My words are cut short when, in the reflection of the elevator wall, I catch sight of her crossed arms and nothing but a bandage where her right hand would be. “Elspeth?”

  She sniffles and clears her throat, but doesn’t bother to turn around, or acknowledge that I’ve seen it.

  “Was that … my fault?” Tears gather in my eyes as I stare back at the consequences of her generosity. There is no generosity, or compassion, in this place. It’s doused by the lingering cloud of hate that suffocates any shred of humanity, or decency. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was my doing. I’ll not do it again.” Her words are short and cold, perhaps not meant to be so, but in this climate, there is no softness, or forgiveness. “Fortunately, they were able to switch the locking mechanism to my left print.”

  Bowing my head, I allow myself to drown in the guilt, because in spite of what she says, I did this. I’m the reason they punished her. In my selfish desire to see, and be comforted by, Valdys, I put her at risk.

  “Please forgive me,” I whisper, unable to lift my gaze to hers.

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” The robotic tone of her voice says otherwise, as if she spent the night rehearsing those very words, over and over in her head.

  When the elevator doors slide open, instead of letting me go on ahead, toward the barracks, she directs me left, toward Doctor Ericsson’s office.

  Chapter 25

  “I trust you’re feeling better this morning.” Doctor Ericsson’s lips stretch into an evil smile, as he shifts his attention between Medusa and me, obviously unaffected by the sight of her stump. He undoubtedly will have watched Valdys and I on camera, probably rewinding it to certain parts of our time together, in order to study it closer.

  Lowering my gaze to my lap offers a small bit of reprieve from having to look at his wretched face. “Yes.”

  “Fantastic. We don’t want you queasy for today’s events.”

  “What events?” I don’t particularly care about what he has in mind, with my thoughts spinning around visuals of guards having to hold Medusa’s arm taut enough for the blade.

  “You’ll attend the training session for the Alphas.”

  Brows pinched tight, I finally lift my gaze to his. “Training?”

  “Yes, it’s important to test their strength, endurance, focus. One slip means death, and could cost a significant number of valuable lives.”

  I wonder what he considers to be valuable life. Certainly none of the subjects he’s poked and cut apart. And, in spite of the importance of the Alphas, I doubt very much that he puts much value on their lives, either.

  “I’m tired of the games. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “I could explain, but what would be the fun, when I can show you?” Lips stretching wider, he reaches out for me, flicking his fingers. “Come, I suspect they’re almost ready.”

  The clearing in a fenced-off section of the hospital grounds is what everyone refers to as The Pit. Not that any of the others, in the main part of the hospital, have seen this hidden stretch of yard, but just about everyone has heard stories about the fights that take place here. Brutal fights, where only one contender walks away. I know this, because I’ve heard the guards exchanging cigarettes and peyote, or alcohol, for bets.

  Chairs line the perimeter that’s sectioned off by a fence, like a cage. We enter through a door, which I imagine is the only escape, if those fighting in the pit are ambitious enough to attack the audience.

  Doctor Ericsson takes a seat smack in the middle of the row, gesturing for Medusa and I to sit beside him. On the field beyond the fence, I catch sight of Valdys, sans helmet, snapping on leather cuffs that extend from the base of his hand to his elbow. Some kind of leather vest covers his chest, making his shoulders look massive. The moment his eyes find me, I have to hide a smile, for fear Doctor Ericsson will take notice and do something cruel.

  Across the pit, Titus and Cadmus are stretched out on a bench, Cadmus with his head tipped back as though basking in the heat, like a lizard. When he tips his head forward, eyes on me, there’s a smugness to his smile, a knowing sort of grin, and when he drags his fingers over his jaw, as though rubbing at the under side of his nose, I flinch at the reference to the day before, when his fingers were down inside my panties.

  Thankfully, Valdys doesn’t seem to pick up on his subtle gestures. That, or he doesn’t care, as he stands, rolling his shoulders back, arms flexed into massive cords of pure iron.

  The sight of him draws my legs together, and I have to press the heels of my palms against the sudden ache between my thighs.

  I turn to see Doctor Ericsson’s gaze there, and I clear my throat, shifting in my seat.

  “I imagine seeing Valdys this way is very exci
ting. There’s nothing quite like watching a strong, robust male preparing for a kill.”

  “What kill?” I can’t imagine he’d sacrifice two Alphas for training, so unfortunately, I don’t think Valdys will be fighting Cadmus.

  The answer comes marching in through a door on the opposite side of the Pit, where Legion soldiers lead a half dozen men, dressed in the signature, navy blue uniforms of cell block B. Not boys, but no more than thirty years old, I guess. They stand in the center of the pit, looking confused, their expressions sweeping over the surroundings.

  Grin plastered to his face, Cadmus leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Watch yourself, Valdys! Some strapping young lads in this group.” Titus chuckles along with him, but I still haven’t quite caught on to this.

  “He’s to fight them? How is that fair? It’ll be a slaughter.”

  A clang draws my attention to where objects are being tossed down behind the men, and they part from each other just enough that I see shovels, an axe, and hammers scattered about the ground.

  “We like to balance the scales sometimes,” Doctor Ericsson says, crossing his legs like he’s completely at ease.

  “A man with a weapon is still no match for Valdys.” I’ve seen him take on one of the mutations, whose single claw could do the same damage as an axe.