Surrendered Read online

  For a moment there was dead silence in the banquet hall. Then all the Mistresses began talking at once. Many glances were thrown in Lady Wraith’neck’s direction as well as the hapless Lady Nick’wrist who sat at her tiny table looking shocked and upset.

  But Thorn only had eyes for Neh’sa. She didn’t say a word but her face had gone very pale and her full lips had compressed to a thin, white line of disapproval.

  “Mistress?” he murmured, feeling worried about her. “Neh’sa?”

  “Excuse me.” She rose suddenly, shaking out the creases in her gown.

  Thorn started to rise too but she motioned him to kneel back down.

  “No, Thorn. I’m just somewhat startled, that’s all…I need a little time alone.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone,” he protested. “Not in a place like this.”

  “I’m not going to the dance floor or anywhere outside the club,” she told him. “I’ll just take a little trip to the fresher. It might help me clear my head. You couldn’t follow me in there anyway.”

  “I suppose not.” Thorn sank unwillingly back to his knees.

  As Neh’sa was preparing to exit the banquet hall, Lady Wraith’neck was also standing. She shot Neh’sa a look of pure, malevolent triumph. Clearly she was about to make some kind of a speech of acceptance. Thorn wished he didn’t have to hear it but as Neh’sa had practically ordered him to stay put, it seemed he had no choice.

  “Don’t leave yet, Neh’sanna,” she said, sneering as the other Mistress passed her. “I have a gift for you—for all my fellow Mistresses who are part of the Sacred Seven. Here.”

  She thrust something like a long metal poker with a flattened end into Neh’sa’s hands.

  “What…what is this?” Neh’sa murmured, still looking shocked and deeply troubled.

  “A self heating branding iron of course. All you have to do is press the button on the handle and you’re in business.”

  Lady Wraith’neck smirked at her and demonstrated with a similar iron she was holding in her hand. One press of the button and the flat bottom which must be the brand grew suddenly cherry-red with heat.

  “For branding those troublesome slaves who don’t respond to the pain collar. I had this one made especially for you—your family crest is the brand,” Lady Wraith’neck purred with malicious satisfaction.

  “You…I…” Neh’sa shook her head, clearly at a loss for words and Thorn couldn’t blame her. Lady Wraith’neck’s “gift” flew directly in the face of everything Neh’sa believed in. Finally she just shook her head and took her leave, the hateful branding iron hanging limp in her hand, as though she didn’t know what to do with it.

  Lady Wraith’neck lost no time in handing out more of the personalized self-heating branding irons to the other members of the Sacred Seven and even bestowed one on Lady Thrust’much herself.

  “Thank you, Lady Thrust’much for this exquisite honor,” she began as Neh’sa stepped quietly beneath the golden arch and disappeared from view. “I’m so touched by this appointment though I must say, I think it’s been a long time in coming…”

  Thorn tuned her out as she continued to boast, his thoughts turning to Neh’sa instead. Was she upset? Well, obviously but how upset was she? He knew she disliked Lady Wraith’neck who was a truly toxic bitch. And now she would have to work with her as one of the Sacred Seven—with the ceremony for the Library of All Knowledge coming up in only a few days.

  Thorn wondered if the sadistic Mistress would bring her night-slinker body-slave with her to the Library or leave it behind. He couldn’t imagine how they could conduct a ceremony with a beast like that roaming around…wait.

  Thorn frowned. Speaking of the night-slinker, where was it?

  He looked under Lady Wraith’neck’s table but it wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t at her side, either. In fact, as he scanned the banquet hall, he realized it wasn’t anywhere in the huge room.

  He scooted closer to Lady Wraith’neck’s area, wanting to get a better look into the shadowy well under her table and make sure the night-slinker wasn’t just balled up down there and hiding.

  The beast was gone but what he saw gave Thorn a cold chill down his spine—there were several pieces of metal and leather lying loose in the floor.

  The first one he recognized as the strap the night-slinker had worn around its arms to keep them fastened securely to its side. The second thing was its muzzle.

  Thorn began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and within him, the fire blazed up. Neh’sa was all alone in this fucking club and Lady Wraith’neck’s predatory night-slinker was unbound, unmuzzled, and missing.

  What in the Seven Hells was he going to do?

  Chapter Twenty

  Neh’sa wandered down the long, narrow corridor that led to the Mistresses’ fresher, feeling blindsided by Lady Thrust’much’s strange decision. What could possibly be going on with the Grande Dame of the Council? Why would she make such a move—confer such an honor on someone like the sadistic, reprehensible Lady Wraith’neck?

  She glanced down at the personalized, self-heating branding iron which bore her crest on it—a scripted, curving capital N in the center surrounded by glyphs for self-control, open-mindedness, and justice. These were the things Neh’sa believed in—not the heedless, petulant, sadistic form of punishment which would lead her to brand an unwilling body-slave. As if she would ever even consider using such a thing!

  Neh’sa was tempted to throw the hateful brand from her and she almost did but then she considered where she was. Club Carnivorous was packed tonight and the building that housed it was old and probably had more than a few code violations. There was alcohol everywhere, not to mention the highly flammable spiked dream gas floating above the dance floor.

  In short, the place was a tinderbox waiting to be lit and the stupid self-heating brand was a fire hazard. Reluctantly, Neh’sa kept hold of it.

  She finally reached the Mistresses’ fresher, and turned slowly into the pink marbled area, gilded with touches of gold and Vrian velvet. She didn’t actually have to relieve herself, she just wanted an excuse – any excuse – to get away from lady Wraith’neck and her horrible gloating. Sinking down onto a gold and velvet couch, Neh’sa dropped the hateful branding iron on the cushions beside her and put her head in her hands.

  What was she going to do? The ceremony for the re-dedication of the Library of All Knowledge was just two days away. It was a cause she had worked for and truly believed in, in the past. But now the addition of Lady Wraith’neck seemed to sully it. Just the idea of appearing in public with the other Mistress and having to acknowledge her as one of the Sacred Seven made Neh’sa’s stomach turn. How could she align herself with such a woman? How could she ever…

  A soft hissing sound cut through her thoughts and made her raise her head. Was there a dream gas leak somewhere? But how could that be this far from the dance floor? But if it wasn’t a leak, what could be making the strange sound?

  Neh’sa had thought she was alone in the fresher but now she rose slowly and craned her neck to try and peer over the tops of the pink marble stalls to her right.

  “Hello?” She called uncertainly. “Is anyone there?”

  The hissing grew louder. It appeared to be coming from the stall furthest from her. For some reason the sound gave Neh’sa a very bad feeling. She felt the short hairs along the back of her neck begin to rise and her stomach clenched like a slow, slick fist.

  “Hello?” She said again, this time backing up instead of walking forward. “If someone’s in here, let me know. Are you all right? Are you sick? I can get you some help…”

  Her words died away as the stall door slowly swung outward. Crouched inside the plush necessary room with its seat of velvet and its walls of shiny pink marble was the strange pale, bony beast Lady Wraith’neck had brought as her body slave.

  “Oh…” Neh’sa breathed, uncertain of what to do.

  The blind bulbous head turned towards the so