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Saint
As much ashe’d have loved to spend the day feeding and fucking Jay, he couldn’t. Jay was still weak. He needed time to recover. Saint had been thinking about finding a temporary feeder, but then Jay had his hands on Saint, and on his cock. He wasn’t going to deny Jay his fun. Then Octavius had thumped on the wall and Jay’s eyes had glazed over, as though he were somewhere far away.
Octavius, the bastard, had been in Jay’s head, doing that witchy thing he did.
He hadn’t expected to find the Brotherhood member near naked, his cock so hard it had tented his damp towel. Then he’d had Saint against the wall and had looked as though he might try and kill him again, at which point Octavius’s undeniable erection had dug into Saint’s hip, and it had been amusing.
Better yet, when he’d dropped the towel, Saint had gotten an eyeful of Octavius’s lean, pale body, and he’d have fucked him right there, if he’d asked. Octavius was a vicious thing, but seeing him hard, his body on fire with rage and lust, his fangs out, and his blue eyes flashing their hatred… It had shocked Saintandaroused him, painfully.
Then the little wolf had dressed and left in an angry huff.
“Is he joining us?” Jay asked in a sleepy voice.
“No.” And that was a damn shame. All that passion with no outlet? Octavius would soon burn out, or snap.
Jay lay on the bed, eyes fluttering closed, unable to stay awake, but he still had the energy to pout. “He’s not as angry in my head. Just kinda… scared.”
Saint was about to ask what he meant, but Jay’s eyes stayed closed and his breathing slowed. Saint tucked him into the bed instead, watched him sleep a while, then left the room to search for Octavius, expecting to have to hunt Octavius down. But he sat, resting on the trunk of the car under a starlit sky, arms crossed, staring across the parking lot toward the woods.
He could have fled. Saint hadn’t yet decided whether he’d bother tracking him down. He figured he’d wait and see what his mood was when it inevitably happened. But Octavius had stayed. Probably because he feared Mikalis more than Saint. The Brotherhood leader had an unyielding grip on them all.
Saint made his steps heavy, so as not to startle Octavius, and propped his ass on the trunk next to him. The sunrise was threatening the ridgeline, bleeding a thin red line behind the swathes of trees. The nights here were truly quiet, apart from the hum of the air conditioning. But close enough.
“You know, the endless days and nights I spent in confinement cut me out of the world. I no longer felt things, heard things. Living became tedious. And I’d have given anything to have someone end it.”
Octavius glanced over and arched a pale eyebrow.
“To realize there’s no end coming and time is endless, it is true torture. I lost myself in that cell beneath Atlas, and the one before it, the one before that… So many bars. I became hollow. Then the one called Kazimir visited. He didn’t say much, not in the early days. He looked me over, studied me, said nothing, and so I asked him to kill me. I think those words resonated with him, as though he knew my pain. After a while, he brought books, then CDs, then digital songs on tiny devices, and a television so I could see how the world had changed while I’d been removed from it.”
“Nobody was supposed to go into Room Three B. And nobody talked about you. Ever. Kazimir broke the rules.”
“Rules Mikalis made.”
“Yes, because you’re a nyk who tried to destroy the Brotherhood. You deserved to be punished.”
“Because he told you I’m the big bad wolf.” Octavius still didn’t see it, even though the truth was looking him right in the eyes.
“Yes. Exactly.”
“You witnessed it, you saw what happened between me and him?” Saint asked.
“No,” he admitted. “It was before my time.”
Saint nodded and stared at the fading stars as the sun’s red glow grew brighter. “Every other Brotherhood member received word of my great betrayal. I turned nyk and tried to burn it all down. That’s what he told them. But nobody witnessed it, and nobody questioned his truth. I was gone, with no way of speaking up. So his version of events became true. History is written by the winners.”
Why would any of them question Mikalis?Octavius remained quiet for a little while. A lone car rumbled by the motel. Its taillights blinked red in the dark.
“What happened then, in this version of yours?” Octavius asked quietly.
“There are things I know about Mikalis, about the Brotherhood, thatwilldestroy it all if set free into the world. You love him and your Brotherhood. I see that. They all do, and they all have reasons for that love. I have no wish to take that from you. Or them.”
He narrowed his eyes on Saint and Saint saw that brilliant mind working. It was in there, like diamond found in coal. He just liked to bury it beneath blind devotion. “Am I being too reasonable for you again? Should I go rip some heads off hikers, eat a few babies? Would that better suit your picture of Saint, the mad nyk kept in the Brotherhood basement?”
Octavius’s grin flashed across his lips, there and gone again like a firefly at dawn. “For all I know, you do exactly that.”
“He’s told you the world is black and white. Nyks are bad, the Brotherhood is less bad, all wrapped up in a convenient bow.” Saint smiled. “Octavius, you know. You don’t need me to tell you. Youallknow Mikalis is lying.”
“If he is, then it’s for a good reason. You must see how the nyktelios are a plague on the human race. They must be stopped. That is a fact.”
