Steel and Promise

by Alexa Black

  A young man emerged, broad-chested, with warm brown skin. Long black hair fell to his shoulders, its silken smoothness a contrast to his bulky frame. Tattoos twined around his arms and legs. Silvery metal peeked from his pierced nipples. A small metal implant winked from the center of his forehead.

  When he saw Teran, he sank to his knees in the fluid manner of any skilled courtesan. “My lady,” he said. His hair fell over his face as he bowed his head.

  Teran wasted no time. She stalked over to him and wrapped her hand in his hair. He moaned as she pulled his head up.

  “You look young,” she said, staring hard into his large eyes. “Why should I choose you to serve me?”

  “You’re right, my lady. I have only been out of the academy two years.”

  “Is that supposed to interest me?”

  “I don’t—” he stammered as he struggled to keep staring up at her.

  She laughed. Her other hand traced his neck and chest. She drew her arm back and struck him hard. He grunted with the impact.

  Cailyn winced, but his hiss became a moan. Cailyn could see a bulge in the small black cloth covering his genitals.

  Teran noticed it too. She pressed her boot into his groin. He hissed, his eyes closed.

  “Nivrai,” the madam snapped. “We’re not here to let you get your thrills for free and leave. I don’t care who you are.”

  Teran’s gloved hand tugged at a pierced nipple. “I want to know what I’m getting. But since you want me to hurry”—she let go, making the young man whimper—“tell me, Valik, what do you think of her?”

  The question startled Cailyn as much as it did Valik, who blinked and looked at her.

  “I—I don’t know her, my lady,” he fumbled.

  Teran’s eyes narrowed.

  “But she’s beautiful,” he added quickly. He squinted at Cailyn. “She—that’s Cailyn Derys. Her father was famous—”

  “That’s not what I asked.” Teran turned away.

  “Wait,” he called. “Let me look at her.” His eyes swept over Cailyn. They lingered over her face, her ringlets, her breasts, the shape of her hips.

  “What would you say if I said I wanted to see you together?” Teran said. A thin smile spread across her lips.

  “I—”

  “Or are you too busy staring at me to answer?”

  His brows knitted. “My lady, I would be glad to do anything—”

  Teran shook her head, the corners of her mouth upturned. “Of course you would.”

  “I—I mean that I would be honored to serve alongside someone so prestigious and skilled.”

  “That’s better.”

  She turned to Cailyn. Without turning back to Valik, she pinched his nipple.

  Cailyn frowned. He wanted this. Wanted this in a way she never had. And she wouldn’t even look at him.

  “What about you?” Teran asked Cailyn. “What do you think of…Valik, is it?”

  Cailyn shuddered as she watched the young man’s teeth clench. She knew what Teran was asking. Could she handle watching Teran use him?

  “He looks skilled as well, my lady.”

  Teran raised an eyebrow. “Come here.”

  Cailyn did. Teran reached out, took her hand, and guided it to Valik’s chest.

  Cailyn closed her eyes. She felt the rise and fall of the young man’s chest as he breathed. A tingle spread through her flesh. If Teran wanted to see them together, so be it.

  Better that than Teran using her.

  “I would be honored to serve with someone as respected as Derys,” Valik said again.

  “And?” Teran prompted him.

  He closed his eyes, suddenly shy. “I like her hand on me.”

  “Very well,” Teran answered. “The end of this week, an hour after the Councils’ meeting.”

  “Thank you, my lady, I will be there.”

  But Teran had already turned away, talking in a crisp voice to the madam about nothing but the transaction.

  She does that, Cailyn thought, watching Valik watching her.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Valik arrives tonight.”

  Cailyn pushed food around her plate. It bore the same meat as that first fateful dinner so long ago, spiced in almost the same way, and a cluster of bright berries. She’d picked at them for the whole meal. Her instructors would be ashamed.

  Teran smiled and sipped her drink, oblivious to the minor disaster.

  She must really want him, Cailyn thought. Since that first night, Teran hadn’t hurt Cailyn at all. Just used her like anyone else would, with fingers, tongue, smooth fingertips. She hadn’t bound her. Hadn’t said a word about pain.

  Or about her eighty thousand.

  Cailyn, thankful for the reprieve, hadn’t pressed the point.

  But sometimes Teran reached to touch Cailyn and the steel would suddenly emerge. Teran would blink and sigh. The claws would retract with their usual click.

  Valik’s visit would do Teran good.

  “You should prepare yourself, little one. I’m sure you’re wise enough to know I want more from you than just to watch me.”

  Cailyn looked up. She fought not to frown. “What are you planning for him, my lady?”

  “Nothing you can’t handle. But I’ve never made things easy for you, have I?”

  “No, my lady.”

  “I don’t intend to start now. Councils or no Councils.”

  “Tell me what you want.” Cailyn speared a mouthful of the meat. The spices, pleasantly mild before, did nothing for her now.

  “Other than to use him? To see you with him.”

  “If you use me alongside him I’ll surely disappoint you.”

  Cailyn chewed her food with exaggerated slowness. Words caught in her throat that she never would have expected to say. Maybe you should just use him. Maybe it would be better that way.

  They went against everything trained into her, every reason she’d wanted that training in the first place. She’d made a choice to serve. She’d agreed to a contract knowing the rules. Now…

  She chewed another bite of meat, searching for resolve.

  “I’m doing this for you,” Teran said. The hand holding her drink shook, then went still. “You know I’d rather use you instead.”

  “I know.”

  Cailyn peered at Teran from under her hair: Her eyes were cold her hair severe. Her mouth showed no hint of the smile that sometimes softened her features. Tight gray fabric hid away her flesh, another barrier between them. In the blue light of the room, she looked more frightening than appealing.

  She remembered the wings and tail she’d once imagined, the spines Teran had mentioned, the quills Lord Darien had added to the wild menagerie of rumors.

  Once, she’d liked the idea. Now, she knew they didn’t lurk in Teran’s skin, but the knowledge didn’t soothe her.

  “That’s true, my lady,” she said. “You have been kind.”

  The old smile ghosted over Teran’s lips. “I will require a lot of you, yes, but I will not break any promise I have made to you.”

  Cailyn nodded.

  “Unless, of course, you let me.”

  You did once, Cailyn thought, biting her lip to keep from saying it aloud.

  “Yes, my lady,” she answered, bowing her head.

  *

  Later, Cailyn never remembered watching Valik kneel. She remembered him standing at the door as it opened, his chest bare, his tattoos and the silver metal in his nipples and forehead on full display.

  He wore the collar of his house, a darker metal, studded with a large red gem. Cailyn touched her own neck as she looked down at him, knowing he wasn’t looking up at her. If he raised his head now, would seeing it make him jealous?

  What must it be like, she wondered, to want this like he does?

  For a moment, Teran moved like Cailyn wasn’t even there, her hands ghosting along the young man’s chest with such care Cailyn wondered whether she was intruding.

  Cailyn heard a famili
ar sound, sharp and metallic. Valik gasped. He looked down to see steel poised just above his skin.

  “How did you do that?” he breathed.

  Steel darted in and out of Teran’s fingertips. His mouth opened in surprise.

  She ran the steel-tipped fingers down his skin, leaving faint white scratches in the skin where they passed.

  He stared for a long moment, disbelieving. Then he threw back his head and cried out his joy.

  The claws dug into his skin. He closed his eyes and arched into their bite. Blood beaded up, then dripped down over the patterned skin. Valik drew a ragged breath. As before, Cailyn could see a bulge in the black fabric that barely covered Valik’s groin.

  She remembered Teran first pricking her. Teran had pierced her neck, hid it with a touch, left Cailyn to puzzle out what had happened from the sting and the bright red moisture.

  Had Teran meant to make her into this?

  “Cailyn.” Teran’s voice cut through her reverie. “On the dresser you will find a small box. Bring it here.”

  Cailyn did as Teran bid her. What exactly was Teran planning?

  Delicate patterns twined over the surface of small, thin box. Cailyn thought of shaking it, like a small child with a gift, to guess at what lay inside.

  Teran smiled as Cailyn laid it down. Her eyes lingered on Valik, on the lines of blood running down his chest.

  Cailyn bit her lip and tamped down a pang of jealousy.

  Teran balled her other hand into a fist and punched his chest lightly. He groaned and arched his hips.

  “Are you trying to impress me?” Teran hit him again.

  He grunted and didn’t answer.

  Teran grabbed his hair, pulled his head up to look at her, and took his nipple between two shining claws.

  His breath came jagged and heavy. Whether from the pain of the punch or simply from arousal, Cailyn couldn’t tell.

  “Are you?” Teran’s teeth clenched as she hissed the words at him.

  “Yes—no—I don’t know, my lady,” Valik stammered as Teran tugged at the nipple caged between her steel-tipped fingers.

  She let go. Valik whimpered at the loss. Teran punched him again, her fist catching him as he reeled.

  “Why did I do that?” she asked him.

  He gulped and looked down. “Because I—because my answer was arrogant, my lady?”

  Cailyn couldn’t hide a smirk.

  “No.” Teran snickered. “Why would I give you what you want for that?”

  He peered up at her through his hair.

  “But that is neither here nor there. You haven’t earned my attention.” With a metallic snick, the claws slid back inside Teran’s fingers. She let go of his head. It lolled, forlorn, as she stepped away from him.

  She turned to Cailyn. “But you have earned hers.”

  Mine? Cailyn looked back at Teran, confused. But Teran only gestured to the box. Cailyn shrugged and slid off the lid.

  Inside lay two thin blades. Their handles were a pure white. Filigreed flowers curled over them in delicate designs.

  How pretty, Cailyn thought. Was Teran one for flowers? Maybe so, from the garden outside her bedroom in Nivrai.

  Were these crafted specifically for nobles on the dark channels? Cailyn guessed so and shivered. Beautiful weapons for beautiful people.

  Teran took one of the knives out of the box. She held it up and let the light hit it. “I used these years ago. I don’t need them now.”

  She extended her claws again. Valik’s head snapped up at the sound.

  “But they can be useful nonetheless.”

  Teran set the blade back down in the box. She passed it to Cailyn.

  Cailyn blinked. “My lady?”

  A smile crept over Teran’s face. “You’ll need them.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You.”

  “No! My lady, it—I can’t do that!”

  Teran walked back over to Valik. She lowered one hand and ran the tips of her claws over his skin. He closed his eyes and purred.

  “You know what this feels like,” Teran said.

  Cailyn nodded, her throat parched. “Yes, my lady.”

  She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to remember. She wanted to ignore it. To forget the hot curl of envy that raced through her as she watched Valik relax into Teran’s biting touch.

  “You don’t think you can do the same thing to him? You can cut with them, yes. But you don’t have to. I don’t always cut you.”

  Cailyn stared. “I don’t know how to use them. I might make a mistake.”

  “Is that it? I can guide you.” Her voice was a whisper, thick with hidden promise. Cailyn saw Valik close his eyes.

  She closed hers too, remembering the feeling of the claws skirring along her skin. Fear came with it all, the remembered thrill of a weapon against the softness of her flesh. The knowledge that she could be cut, that Teran wanted to do it, whether she intended gentleness or savagery.

  But light, spidery movement like that left no damage, no mark. She thought of Valik’s head thrown back, his hair whipping through the air as he cried out. She pressed her legs together and cursed herself for the heat there, for wanting to fan it.

  Teran turned back to Valik. She held up the knife again. “Would you like her to use this on you?”

  He looked from the knife to Cailyn. His gaze lingered on her body. He breathed out the word “Yes.”

  Teran handed her the knife. Cailyn turned it around in her hands. “I’m not like you, my lady.”

  She looked over at Valik and studied the tattoos that twined over his skin, the metal that glinted in his nipples. She raised her head, looked into wide eyes, a bright silver implant just above them in the center of his forehead.

  She couldn’t imagine bringing the blades to his skin.

  But she did know what it was like to want their teasing touch. She’d missed the sharpness in Teran’s fingertips too many times not to know it.

  She’d even wanted Teran’s steel to bring blood sometimes.

  Neither Valik nor Teran was asking her to go that far.

  She picked up the knife. Teran laughed, silver and delighted.

  Cailyn brought the blade to Valik’s chest. She had barely touched the tip to his skin when he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stilled under the blade.

  “I think he likes you,” Teran said.

  Cailyn traced the knife along Valik’s flesh. His breath slowed. His fingers twitched at his sides. One corner of his mouth turned up in the first hint of a smile. The rest of him was still, minding the blade.

  She wondered what her own face looked like. She’d seen Teran before, concentrating, intense. What did it take to do this with such composure?

  She swallowed, daring herself to push just a little harder. Valik’s answering moan was a great relief.

  “Difficult, little one?” Teran asked. Cailyn froze as Teran walked up behind her.

  Was this what Teran wanted? To hear her admit how awkward she felt in front of another courtesan? She looked again at Valik. Even now, he puffed out his chest, trying to reach her again.

  Whatever terrible things Teran had done, this wasn’t anything like them. She moved the blade down, watching a faint white line appear where it passed.

  Valik’s mouth opened in a wide O of surprise that soon became a gasp of pleasure.

  Cailyn cracked a smile. That was…good, apparently. Heat thrilled through her at Valik’s response, in spite of the strangeness of it all.

  Steadier now, she mirrored the movement on the other side. Valik let out a low moan.

  Cailyn blinked. The sounds he made—they made sense as responses to sex, to touch, to kisses. But the twin lines her blade had drawn across his chest were something else entirely.

  It made her reel. She pulled the knife away.

  “Why, my lady? Why have me do this?”

  “Only to see what you would do.”

  Teran wrapped her hand around Cailyn’s an
d held it steady. Cailyn relaxed as Teran’s hand caught and held hers.

  With Teran guiding their hands, together they traced patterns on Valik’s skin. Cailyn’s hand moved smoothly now. It glided over the patterns of his tattoos and veered off into designs of their own.

  Cailyn knew how Valik must feel, how the blade traced lines of fire over his flesh. That, she could understand. That, Teran had taught her.

  That, she could be part of, in accordance with Teran’s will. Her skin tingled as Teran moved their joined hands.

  Cailyn’s own hand traced that flame over his skin. Teran guided it, yes, but Cailyn’s movements were setting his nerves alight. She tightened her grip around the knife handle, hard and determined. A fierce, foreign joy leapt in her breast.

  And over it all lay Teran’s hand over hers.

  Then Teran’s hand fell away. Cailyn hesitated.

  She pulled her hand away. Once clear of Valik’s skin, it began to shake. She tamped her other hand over it to keep it still.

  Teran saved her with a kiss. “You can stop now, if you really want.”

  Cailyn laid the knife down as carefully as she could. Then she melted into Teran’s kiss, thankful for the reprieve as Teran’s other hand wrapped around her.

  Chapter Thirty

  “You liked that, didn’t you?” Teran stepped closer to Valik and ran a hand over his body.

  “Yes, my lady,” he breathed.

  The newsteel sprang forth from its banks in her hands. She drew the claws down his skin, hard. Cailyn saw red lines where the tips of the claws had been.

  She looked down at the box holding Teran’s knife. Her hands itched. Were they missing the handle of the knives, or were they just trying to rid themselves of the recent memory?

  She clasped her hands behind her back so she could rub them together without Teran or Valik seeing. Her skin felt cold without Teran’s touch.

  “Look at him, little one.” Teran’s lips fluttered against Cailyn’s ear.

  Cailyn opened her eyes and forced herself to study the pattern of Valik’s tattoos. Her gaze moved to the cuts, the bright shock of red that dripped from them.

  She looked down at her own pale skin. Was that how she looked when Teran cut her?