Chapter Thirty-Five
I’m not sure what’s worse, an angry sphinx, a pissed harpy, or Zeki in his current mood.
He’s changed into an old, puke-green get up, but that fire-breathing dragon sticking above the coat’s collar gives me the willies—if he so much as gets a lighter out, I’ll freak.
That, combined with the pinched expression on his face, and him continually flexing his fist as he stares me down where he stands, legs spread slightly, braced, keeps my heart pounding.
Because my arms are tied to the arms of a metal chair, inside the nursery tent, and I’m not going anywhere.
Gold eye, silver eye.
A little help here, Harpoc.
His cronies circle me, like I’m a threat to run again. Morons.
Thank goodness the drummer in my head finishes his solo.
Eser cowers behind them, waiting to be commanded to do Zeki’s bidding. I feel sorry for the kid and wonder how he got wrapped up with these guys. Maybe he’s been abducted, like me, because it’s clear no one here holds any paternal feelings for him. My heart goes out to the boy.
“I don’t believe in striking a woman on the face, but there are other ways to procure cooperation.”
Careful, Pell. Watch your mouth, don’t make him angrier.
I swallow. “You could try asking nicely.” I force a smile.
Pell, don’t be a smart ass.
Zeki crosses his arms and leans back.
I’ve seen Harpoc make that same move a time or two, and he looks sexy-tough. Zeki, definitely not, not that it matters.
He studies me, clearly considering his next words. “The King of Roses has made my life… difficult.”
I let a corner of my mouth rise. Join the club.
He frowns, clearly thinking I think it’s funny.
I want to reply, “And abducting me will make things better?”
Pell, don’t.
“I intend to repay his generosity.” His mouth hitches up.
My breathing labors, but I hide it, pasting on a plastic smile. What is it about me that attracts brutes like this?
“Would you like to know how?” One eyebrow rises. He thinks he’s brilliant.
“Curiosity’s killing me.” I can’t help the sarcasm that sneaks in.
Pell, stop.
I try to look bored, turning an arm beneath my bonds and running a finger across my nails.
Mazhar and another of the goons shift, and I know I’m pissing them off. Good. I don’t care if they’re used to being treated like kingpins; I’ve got standards. And I’ve got Harpoc, when he finally gets his sexy little ass here.
God, get the lead out.
Zeki nods. Mazhar grabs more rope from one of the nearby tables and joins another goon who steps forward. As one, they stride over to me, and I tense.
It’s hard to play it cool when you’ve got two gorillas breathing on you, and my shoulders go tight. I’ve been cold with just my hoodie and sweats, but not anymore, not with adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Zeki laughs. “Not so free with your words, I see.”
He nods and the pair stoop and reach for my legs, which I quickly wrap around the chair.
But the next thing I feel is the chair going over and my head smacks the hard ground. It’s all the distraction they need to grab my knees. Gorilla #1, aka Mazhar, secures one of my legs to the chair while Gorilla #2 squats and, using his shoulder, forces my other leg straight, up in the air where he hugs it.
I fight, but he’s practically sitting on me, not to mention stronger and I’ve got nothing.
Figures, it’s my wounded foot up in the air, too.
Eser looks away, lip quivering, and my limbs start to shake.
Zeki smiles at that, then nods at Mazhar who strides back to that damn table and retrieves what looks like a paint stirrer stick, then returns, stopping beside my upraised foot.
I grip the arms of the chair beneath the rope to still them, but there’s no hiding my distress.
“So,” I croak, “how do you intend to repay the King of Rose’s generosity?”
Zeki laughs. “I see I’ve created a willing listener. Very good.”
I’d like to “very good” him.
Gold eye, silver eye. Harpoc where are you?
“You’re a bit plain.” Zeki watches for my reaction.
He’s not telling me anything new. Only Harpoc has ever enthused at what he calls my “beauty,” and I don’t react. It doesn’t hurt anymore, I’ve conditioned myself.
Zeki’s lips press tight. It’s clearly not the reaction he’s hoping for.
Ass.
He steps toward me, glancing at my upraised appendage. I know exactly when he spots the wound from earlier because he raises his chin. “I think the king would appreciate some decoration on his ‘weakness.’”
I force a smile. “Actually, I think he fancies me just the way I am.” I wag my brows.
Two of his thugs snicker.
“No, no. He definitely deserves better.” He raises an eyebrow.
My heart races all out. “What kind of decoration are you considering adding?”
“Curiosity killing you?” He throws my smartass words from earlier, back at me. Fair enough. I’ll woman up.
His thugs chuckle.
Eser bites his lip and holds himself.
“Actually, no,” I say.
“That’s a pity.” Turning to the boy, he says, “Eser, come here.”
The kid straightens and pulls his shoulders back, then strides between the goons—I refuse to call them men.
Zeki places a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and I note the boy’s grimace even though Zeki isn’t squeezing. “I thought we’d make you and the boy match.” He smiles as he pats Eser, “Show the lady what I envision.”
Eser’s shoulders slump as he takes a seat beside me on the dirt, then raises a foot. His sole is full of stripes.
Fury blinds all reason, and I somehow kick free, smashing Gorilla #2 in the nose. He drops my leg in
