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“To where?”
“Australia. I hear they have a fondness for large spiders there, or at least a tolerance.” He smirks at me with a little sideways grin and I feel myself well with love for him.
“And how are we going to get to Australia? TSA is going to notice six arms, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain my shifting. It seems to happen at random.”
“There are other ways to travel.”
“Like on a ship? I don’t know if I’m up for dealing with the ocean. Knowing our luck, we’d get caught up in some mermaid civil war.”
“Merpeople are relatively peaceful,” Order says in a casual tone that makes me wonder if merpeople are real or if he’s just fucking with me. “But I was thinking a mode of travel with a little more style and swiftness.”
“A private plane!? You have one waiting?”
“Since you were bitten, it has been obvious that we need to move. You’re not safe on either side of this battle. I have considered all options and made preparations. That’s what a good owner does. I didn’t expect Connor to come for you so swiftly, but I am impressed.”
“What are you impressed about?”
“He did not abandon you. He tried to reclaim you. He has some sense of responsibility. He will make a good owner to some female.”
“He’s already kidnapped the local crime journalist so she can’t report on the war.”
“Smart,” Order says, disturbingly approvingly. I get the feeling he and Connor would be good friends if they weren’t burdened by their respective responsibilities on either side of a war neither of them seem interested in fighting.
* * *
Before we go anywhere, we go back to the last place we called home, though I don’t know if either one of us ever thought it would be home. It feels very much as though we’re never really going to belong anywhere. My apartment back in New York has probably already been rented out to someone else, my stuff yeeted into a dumpster. I’ve disappeared without anybody besides Chief Connor noticing, and there’s a small part of me that feels just a bit warm and fuzzy because at least Chief cared enough to try to lure me away. That’s fucked up, but it’s true.
We park in the attached garage, and I get out, still cursing about the whole thing. I figure if I stamp and swear enough, we might not have to talk about the fact that I ran away.
It works for about five minutes. Long enough for Order to casually walk into the kitchen, get a glass of water, and lean back against the counter, his lower sets of arms folded over his body as he watches me with a slight smirk.
“You know you’re in trouble, don’t you,” he says when I take a second to breathe.
“Uhm.”
“I know you know, because you’re pink and guilty.”
I blush more, because dammit, he’s right.
“I’m sorry,” I whine. “I didn’t mean to run away. It wasn’t my fault. He called me. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I…”
“You and I are going to have a conversation,” Order says in a tone that tells me he has no intention of talking.
I bite my lower lip and try to think of an argument that isn’t one I’ve already made, before continuing to make the arguments I’ve already made. “I couldn’t help it. You know that. The call came and it was like I had to go.”
“Next time a call comes, you will restrain yourself,” he says, coming out of the kitchen, and taking a firm hold on the back of my neck.
“But I can’t.”
“But you will.” He steers me into the bedroom, where the remnants of my last set of attire lie in pieces on the bed, and big nail marks now scuff the open window frame. I guess it wasn’t terribly hard to work out where I went. “Take those clothes off.”
I do as I am told, because I do feel bad. I am starting to realize how wrong this could all have gone. I could have easily been captured by Connor, if he wanted to capture me. He was actually kind of chill if you ignore the anthill remarks, which I can’t.
“Bend over the bed,” Order commands me when I am naked.
I do as I am told again, setting some kind of personal record.
“I am going to use my venom,” he tells me. “I am going to use it because otherwise I think you will find this punishment even more painful than I intend it to be.”
