Page 9 of Snake Eyes & Bad Luck

“She’ll get worried about me,” Avelina’s voice took a sharp tone as he wrenched the stone from her.

“What a good friend ye’ve got,” he snarled darkly. He tucked it away onto his belt and patted the pocket it sat in. “Tell ya what, prove yerself to be a good little warlock, behave, and I’ll give it back.”

Her face screwed up. Callum arched a single brow in challenge. Avelina shook hard, he could feel her toes curl against the wood and fists rattle by her sides. In the end, she spat out, “Yes, sir.”

“Atta girl,” he purred victorious, dropping her face and letting her sag against the nearby wall. Twisting, he took up her elbow and swiftly tossed her into the bedroom. She spun to face him, but he stopped her with a single nod toward his bed. “Now put yerself to bed. I’ve got work to see to and it’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

“Wait!” Avelina lurched forward, hands to the door frame. “Wait, you never said what kind of work I’m doing? Or why I’m sleeping in your bed.”

Callum smirked. Pressing a finger to the center of her forehead, he walked her backwards into the room. When she was good and bewildered, her cute nose scrunched and lips pursed, the outlaw took hold of the door knob. “Sleep tight, darlin’.”

He slammed the door, pressing his nail to the locking mechanism and listened to it click into place. While he wasn’t a spellslinger, he once worked alongside a Tinkerer who showed him a few tricks. Every piece of machinery in his cabin obeyed him. Evident by the way Avelina pummeled her fists against the door, yelling through the wood, unable to get that doorknob to turn an inch. He imagined her turning red in the cheeks with her fists rumbling against the door. A beautiful, petulant temper tantrum. What he wouldn’t give to make those ruby cheeks and her pale backside the same shade. He ought to have bent her over the table for that little snatch, but he’d been too interested in seeing if she was lying.

Now that he knew what it did, and where Avelina’s weakness was, he had a good base to start his plan. They just needed a few more players. “Rat!”

His voice bounced off the floor as a trap door at the back of his cabin creaked open. A tiny, murky brown haired helfen with glowing red eyes and green horns popped up and out of the hole. “Yeah, boss?”

Avelina’s fists steadily slowed till he heard the tell-tale thump of a woman slumping to the floor. Atta girl, give in. He bowed down toward the trap door, holding the wooden flat up. “Gather the crew, we’ve got a new job.”

“New…job? But the boys didn’t even come back from the last one.” Rat gawked at him.

Callum rolled his eyes. “They died. Little warlock in there killed them.”

“Ooof,” Rat grimaced. “Plannin’ on guttin’ her, boss?”

“Not at all.” Callum hummed thoughtfully as he stroked his claws against the aged wood grain. Splinters sprang up around him, unable to dent his thick hide. Callum plucked one and held it up in front of him. “She’s one of us now. And I got just the thing to break her in. Grab the crew, we’re hitting the vault.”

“Now we’re talkin’, boss!” Rat scurried back into the dark. Callum let the door swing shut. It thudded back into place. Straining his ears, he tried to listen for any sounds muffled through the door, but it was silent. Even as he slithered back, he found the bedroom quiet.

Good. Now, onto step one: Funding my final act as Cottonmouth.

Chapter Six:

Avelina

What was more horrific? Being patronized by the giant snake man holding her hostage? Or waking up in his bed with him coiled around her, and it being the best fucking sleep she’d ever had?

Curled up in a ball around a pillow, her back curved against his firm tail. He was a cooling balm against her burning flesh. He didn’t use a blanket, didn’t take up her pillow, simply wrapped around where she’d gotten comfortable. Avelina sat up in bed, rubbing the crusty sleep from her eyes. There he lays. With the audacity of a man unafraid she might stab him in the kidneys, he snoozed, arms folded under his head. A heavy scowl etched itself on her lips as she took a moment to study her captor. Tan skin that melted into yellow and brown scales, he wasn’t buff, but she wouldn’t call him weak with his thick biceps and forearms. His face was the most offensive, because he was objectively pretty. Sculpted with those serpent-esque brows and cheekbones, the gods didn’t make him gaunt. Instead, his sharp angles made him a painting, like he had been made with a loving artist’s touch. She hated how his long hair fell around him as a silky curtain.

Fuck him. There was no reason a bastard like him ought to be both scary and nice to look at, simply heresy. Well, Father certainly would call him a heretic. She crept up to her feet, having to step over him. His tail was too thick to move otherwise. It took all the muscles in her legs and core to keep from toppling off the mattress onto the floor where she spent a full hour last night. Like a dramatic princess locked in a tower, after he didn’t open the door or come for her, she cried herself dizzy against the edge of his bed. It was only after she couldn’t stand sitting there anymore, and her aching bones begged for relief, that she crawled into bed. The whole time she imagined him coming in to stab her.

Time’s up, Darlin’. Time to die!

That never happened, and she was reasonably infuriated that it didn’t. Because this means he’s in this for the long con. All the signs pointed to one end: he did want her to work for him. But why give me a bed? If she was just a tool, why did she wake up curled up in his tail? Was there more he expected of her? She grimaced to herself at the idea that she would be both his walking death mage but also his cock pocket?

Now you’ve gone and done it. Avelina shivered hard, trying to ignore the prickled flesh all over her back. She’d gone and put that image in her head. Gotta get it out. That active imagination of hers raced with images of him throwing her on a table in front of a faceless army of outlaws, naked and squirming while he took her from behind. Stop! Stop it and get out of here! Her mind was her own worst enemy. Humiliation filled her features as she tiptoed over the lightly creaking wood. Get out. Get out now. Leave! She didn’t realize the creaking wasn’t of her making until a tail curled around her ribs. A squawk ripped out of her as she was whisked away from the door.

Avelina faced Cottonmouth, struggling and kicking in the air. He sat up on his bed, smirking so broadly it showed his fangs. “Now, little viper, where do you think yer goin’?”

“To the bathroom!” she spat, putting her hands to his scales in hopes of freeing herself. She pushed with a grunt to no avail.

“Poor thing, wouldn’t want to burst that bladder, huh?” Yet he didn’t put her down, instead, holding her at eye level. She stopped kicking and let out a heavy exhale from her nose. He chuckled, “Now, now, none of that.”

“You’re the one who trapped me in here all night long!” Avelina hated that she fell asleep. Loathed that it’d been comfy and for the first time in days she slept through the whole night. One would think she’d toss and turn, rife with nightmares. Or that she wouldn’t be able to close her eyes without her skin crawling, but the second her head hit the pillow, she went out like a light. When she awoke, she was well-rested and even refreshed, her muscles warm.

“I knew ye’d likely try something silly, like running away. I needed ya thinkin’ with a clear head. We got work to do,” he cooed as he slowly lowered her, dropping himself onto the floor as well. Cottonmouth slithered toward the door and pulled it open. With a sweeping motion, he encouraged her to walk out first. Avelina pulled the shirt down further, ensuring it basically hit her knees as she shuffled past him.

To her relief, the cabin was empty. She scanned the place lit in honey-orange sunlight. No longer the patter of rain or rumble of storm clouds bouncing over the roof. It was muggy and warm, but it was a welcome change from last night. She studied the whole room, spotting extras that branched off the main one, but only one was open. A hand pressed into the small of her back and led her across the living space. “Bathroom, darlin?”