Page 20 of Split or Swallow

It was the only thing she could think of to explain the way she was leaning forward, trying desperately to find a way to sit that didn’t accentuate the pulses, which were coming in increasing frequency. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to them. They varied in intensity and duration, sometimes quick and sharp, sometimes slow and lingering, each one leaving her more breathless than the last. They were so chaotic that Tem almost wondered if they were accidental. She couldn’t believe the basilisk was thinking about her at all, much less thinking about her for this long. Tem looked around for something—anything—to distract her.

Her eyes landed on Vera.

She was at the end of a pew, leaning against Jonathan. Her shoulder looked like it was twitching, her arm jerking up and down in a steady rhythm. Whenever she sped up, Jonathan’s head would roll back, and every time it did, Vera’s shoulder would stop moving. Then it would resume a moment later with renewed vigor.

With a jolt, Tem realized what she was watching.

Tem looked around in bewilderment. Surely someone would see—surely someone would notice. But Vera and Jonathan were at the very end of a nearly empty pew, at an angle that hid Jonathan’s lap. Anyone who glanced at them wouldn’t know she was pleasuring him. Tem only knew because she knew Vera, and also because she was so painfully turned on from the pulses that she felt as if she had suddenly acquired some inhuman ability to spot sexual activity from a mile away.

Whether out of sick fascination or latent jealousy, Tem couldn’t look away. The pulses seemed to sense her arousal, somehow syncing to the motion of Vera’s arm. They were purposeful now; Tem had no doubt that Caspen was thinking of her, and he must know she was thinking of him. The pulses were building, building, building—even as the rest of the church started to sing a hymn, Tem couldn’t join in. All she could do was stare at Vera’s arm pumping up and down, imagining it was her arm instead, imagining it was Caspen’s cock instead of Jonathan’s.

Tem clamped her mouth shut as the final pulse came.

But it was impossible not to cry out. The hymn had reached a crescendo, and so had Tem, and just as the final note ended, Tem watched as Vera’s head dipped beneath the pew, remaining in Jonathan’s lap for a brief moment before rising again. She licked her lips in triumph.

The pulses lingered, drawing a residual moan out of Tem, which she didn’t bother trying to silence. She was so wet she could only hope it hadn’t soaked through her dress.

“Someone wants you.”

Her mother’s voice tore Tem from her trance.

“What?”

“I said, someone wants you,” her mother pointed to the end of their pew, where Gabriel was waving at her.

“Oh. Right.”

The hymn was over. People were beginning to leave.

Tem stood with the rest of the crowd, filing toward the aisle, where Gabriel was waiting.

“Well?” he said when she reached him, hooking his arm into hers. “Are you a changed woman?”

Tem had no idea how to reply. She could feel her wetness dripping down her legs, and felt a sudden kinship with Jonathan.

“Yes,” she said honestly.

“Delightful,” Gabriel squeezed her arm. “Tell me everything.”

“Not while we’re in church.”

It was an empty protest. Nothing that had happened in the past hour had been appropriate for church.

“Oh, come on, Tem. Kora would be proud. She’d want you to give me all the juicy details.”

Somehow, Tem believed him. Of all the deities, surely the goddess of fertility wouldn’t object to anything related to sex. But still. Her mother was mere feet away, and Tem wasn’t about to talk about this anywhere near her.

“I have a couple roosters to deliver. Meet me at the square in an hour?”

“With bells on,” Gabriel gave her a mock salute before disappearing into the crowd.

Tem tried to act as normal as possible as she followed her mother home, but between the claw inside of her and the wetness on her thighs, she was beginning to feel like a walking sin. The moment they were inside, Tem ran to the bathroom and immediately took a cold bath. As she washed her body with soap, she couldn’t help but wonder what Caspen was doing right now. Had he climaxed, like she had? Was he still thinking of her? Did the claw only pulse when his thoughts were sexual, or would it pulse if she crossed his mind at all? What did basilisks do in their free time, anyway? Tem tried to imagine Caspen at his version of church, sitting in a pew. Did basilisks worship Kora, like the humans did? Or did they have gods of their own?

Tem toweled off and dressed quickly, heading to the coop to gather the roosters.

Ever since it was discovered that the crow of a rooster could kill a basilisk, each household in the village was granted one rooster to be kept as a form of protection against the snakes, in the event that they breached the mirrored wall. Despite their life-saving properties, the roosters were not welcome gifts. A dead weasel was preferable for most people, especially since dead weasels didn’t make any noise. Nobody wanted to wake up to incessant crowing at the crack of dawn, and for many families, the roosters ended up as dinner. Whenever that happened, Tem was tasked with replacing them.

By the time Tem had corralled the roosters and grabbed two dozen eggs for the bakery, nearly an hour had passed and she had to rush to meet Gabriel at the square.