Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Speaking of Ass-licks, I wondered grimly if he was enjoying the rest of his morning. I bet myself that when he went to find R’xs and demanded to use me that morning, he hadn’t anticipated that he’d be paying a hefty wage out of his own paycheck for his boss to use me instead.
Then I felt my spine stiffen.
Use me? I don’t think so, whispered a little voice in my head. I didn’t care how rich and important the Baron was—I wasn’t just going to roll over and play dead for him like some damn dog. I was going to treat him like any other client, I told myself. He wanted to taste my blood? Fine—I was, after all, a Blood Whore—selling my blood was my job. But that was all he was getting from me. I’d be damned if I would spread my legs for him or let him bite me anywhere but my wrists.
Although now, my right wrist—formerly my “good one”—was in considerably worse shape than my left wrist, due to the way R’xs had been gripping it. There were already purple bruises growing where the pimp’s long fingers had wrapped around and squeezed. He—
My thoughts were cut off abruptly when the elevator gave a muted ding and the doors slid open to reveal the most luxury I had ever seen since I had come to O’nagga Nine.
The ceilings were high and there was a thick, crimson carpet on the hallway floor which led down a long corridor papered in muted deep umber. There was a bunch of rare snow flowers on a pedestal across from the elevator, their delicate white lace offset by the heavy traditional earthenware vase they were in. The space had a rich, intensely masculine feel to it.
A Naggian servant in a black suit with his hair combed severely to one side met us as the doors opened. His eyes widened briefly when he saw me but his voice betrayed no surprise when he spoke to the Baron.
“My Lord,” he said, inclining his head respectfully. “May I take it that you have company for breakfast?”
“You may, Daw’snx,” the Baron rumbled. He looked down at me. “I think, anyway. You hungry, little girl?” he asked.
Was I hungry? When was I not hungry? I couldn’t remember a single day since I’d gotten to this miserable frozen planet when I hadn’t been so hungry it felt like my stomach was gnawing my backbone, as my Granny would have said.
I nodded mutely.
“Good.” The Baron nodded back. “Breakfast for two, Daw’snx,” he told the servant.
“Very good, my Lord.” Daw’snx nodded again. “And will that be a cold breakfast with traditional Naggian fare? Or do you prefer a hot breakfast with more modern food?”
The Baron looked at me speculatively.
“A hot breakfast, I think,” he said, much to my relief. I had seen the traditional food the Naggians still ate during their feast days and it was awful—mostly blood based cuisine with long curls of frozen fish and bloated intestine sausages filled with half-cooked bile. Disgusting.
“Very good, my Lord,” Daw’snx said again. “That will be ready shortly. Shall I have it served in the formal dining room or the breakfasting room?”
“The breakfasting room will be fine,” the Baron said. “And Daw’snx,” he added with another glance at me. “Have them build up the fire, all right?”
The servant nodded again.
“It shall be done.” Then he glided away, presumably to relay these orders to the other servants, of which there were probably plenty. The whole penthouse was probably stuffed with people whose entire job was to serve the Baron.
And now you’re one of them, whispered a little voice in my head, sending another shiver down my spine.
“Er, you have a fireplace up here?” I asked the Baron, trying to take my mind off the way I would doubtless have to “serve” him before I left this plush sky-palace of his.
“I have one in every room,” he rumbled. “Gets fucking cold here when you’ve got hsh’frux blood—don’t you agree?”
I was surprised to hear him use the derogatory term, considering the way he’d been giving Ass-licks the stink-eye for using it earlier, but there was no denying that was what I was—just a dirty off-worlder—by Naggian standards, anyway.
“I’m freezing all the time,” I admitted in a low voice.
“Well, you shouldn’t be too cold here,” he said. “So you can take off your coat if you want.” He nodded at a row of pegs on the wall beside the elevator.
“Oh, um…” I clutched uncertainly at the green-dyed fur that Ellie had given me. I was reluctant to part with it, even in the relative warmth of the Baron’s penthouse. Though I was still cold with it on, it kept me from feeling like I was only an inch from freezing to death.
“Or keep it on if you want,” the Baron said, shrugging those massive shoulders of his—(they were twice as broad as mine.) “I don’t care—though you might shock my staff. Bunch of fucking busybodies,” he added, without malice.