73. Ghoul

Chapter 73

Ghoul

T hey come to see the monster.

The unmated serpents come to see me in my townhouse once a month, when the animas fall fertile. Charlotte Naga has them line up in a small, dimly lit, intimate room, of my townhouse, where I wait like the king I am in my wide leather armchair. The animas quiver in their black bridal silks, wondering if today is their last day.

I've been through so many ‘brides' now that Mace stopped giving them to me for a time. But since the destruction of Naga House, his efforts to make a serpentine mark on the world have re-doubled. He's brought in new blood. "We must think long term," he said to me this morning in his meeting with the other six generals. "We must be wise."

"My lord?" Charlotte prompts, keeping her eyes respectfully at my boots. She hasn't quite been the same after the death of Ben. Even so, she is an ever-loyal servant to her brother. Her loyalty has never dimmed in the long years I've known her. "Which one will it be this month?"

"None of them are strong enough," I sigh, waving a dismissive hand. "Are there any others?"

"No, my lord."

"Then leave."

Charlotte hesitates. "The king has commanded that this month is the?—"

I smile with my fangs and her mouth slams shut. Abruptly, I stand, making them all flinch deliciously. "Well, if the king commands it, we must obey, hadn't we?"

I survey the group with leisurely interest. Finally, I point to the tallest, a Red-Bellied black snake, her barcoded cheek quivering with fear. "This one. She looks properly toxic."

She curtseys low and whispers, "It would be an honour to bear your seed, Lord Basilisk."

They are always disgustingly compliant.

"Very good," Charlotte says, and hurries the rest of them out as fast as they'll go, her bleached blonde curls bouncing madly.

I beckon to the young woman, now standing alone and wide-eyed. She is a slender, delicate thing, no doubt chosen for her effective venom and good looks. Not that any of that matters to me. I turn on my heel and head into my bedroom.

It's a grand affair, a room fit for the last remaining basilisk in the world, and it's lucky that Mace never gave me a room in his own house. A black Banarasi silk duvet, specially made for me, stretches across a king-sized bed that I hardly use. But I keep it here because the silk and its beautiful ancient wood frame remind me of my childhood homeland. A time rendered mostly to shadows now.

The serpent anima obediently perches on the bed, hiking up her dress, getting ready for me to mount her.

"Stop," I drone with disgust.

She freezes, looking up at me with a frantic expression, her fear a luxurious perfume.

"May the Wild Mother take you back to her ever-loving bosom," I say, before taking off my mask.

The girl is ash and smoke within seconds.

A few minutes later, I head back out into the parlour where Charlotte waits, hiding her anxiety by scrolling on her phone. She leaps to her heeled feet when she sees me.

"A failure," I say with immense disappointment. "If you keep bringing me weak animas, my seed will never take. Oh, and send for new sheets. She's soiled them."

I leave Charlotte, perfectly ashen-faced behind me, and go and find my comfort in the frigid night.