53. Kyle

CHAPTER 53

Kyle

"‘ a s it been twenty minutes yet?" Mouse asked, panting heavily and shaking out his wrist as he stepped back from working Akira over.

Bear glanced irritably at his runepad. "Fifteen, maybe."

In the temporary lull, Akira managed to work the gag out from between his teeth by using his left shoulder to drag it free of his bloodied lips.

"Sixteen," he corrected.

A disbelieving silence descended on the room, only broken by the creak of leather as Kyle tugged furiously on his restraints.

And then he heard the tinkling of a melodic chime, one which became abruptly louder when Bear yanked his runepad back out of his pocket. Puckering his lips in an exasperated sigh, he jabbed a thumb to its surface and held the tablet up at face height.

"Did you get him?" the caller asked eagerly.

In wordless reply, Bear turned the screen towards Kyle.

Miles Mackenroth stared back at him, lazing in a high-backed chair with a glass of dark liquid resting casually between his fingers. While Kyle and the others were lit by the harsh artificial bulbs that littered the lower levels of Xerxes, Miles was bathed in dawn sunlight filtering through the resplendent floor to ceiling windows at his back. Not that the Upper was currently appreciating his above-surface privilege: his clean-cut, square-jawed face was swallowed by the sneer directed at the camera.

"About fucking time," the man preened, and then took a long, appreciative drag from his drink. "You look good in restraints, Randall."

Kyle shot him a broad, dazzling smile. "Why thank you, " he said as though it had been a compliment. "But I think freedom goes much better with these jeans."

Miles gave a dark chuckle. "Get used to it. You're mine now, you mouthy slut."

"He's not yours," Bear called out. He gave the runepad a little shake as if to convey the point. "It's the mayor who's paying for ‘im."

"Yeah, for me, idiot."

"Then why is it only the mayor who's coming to collect ‘im?"

"But he's…" Miles faltered, glancing off screen. "He said you were coming here. That he didn't want me in Lower Xerxes today."

"Looks like you got screwed over, mate-"

"Aww," Kyle mocked, interrupting Bear's retort. "Do you always do what big brother says? Do you suck his cock when he tells you to, as well?"

The drink abruptly dropped from the hand of the figure on the screen, and a moment later there was the sound of breaking glass.

"I'm on my way," Miles snarled, and the image on the runepad jerked and rocked as the device was shaken in his hands. "Don't touch him until I get there. I want to fuck him up myself."

The display flashed to indicate the call had been terminated, and Bear let out a long whistle as he returned it to his pocket. "Prick," he commented idly, and Kyle wasn't sure if he was talking about him or Miles.

And then silence descended on the room once more. The seven men all eyed each other, the mutually distasteful glares ranging from wariness to bitter hatred.

"Benedict Mackenroth offered a deal," Theta said defensively to Akira, unexpectedly the first to speak. "Unlike you, I know better than to turn it down, especially when it bought you your life. You should be grateful."

The disgusted look Akira shot him confirmed he was anything but.

"A deal?" repeated Kyle. "To the Coterie?"

"No, you stupid brat."

"No," said Akira too, but in a far more calm and measured tone. He cocked his head, looking almost as much at ease as he always did on his feet and dressed to the nines. "Because the Coterie sided with Kyle, didn't they?"

"Idiots," Theta hissed in confirmation, his face contorting into an ugly snarl. "They fell prey to your clever accusations, Epsilon, so worried about appearing weak that they'd decided in Randall's favour within minutes of you leaving last night. I asked to deliver the news to you both myself."

"Which you somehow translated to ‘run to the mayor and beg to be his bitch'?" Kyle asked. That earned him a hard smack across the jaw from Mouse.

"Xerxes is a fragile beast," Theta said irritably. "There is a subtlety to its power dynamics that everyone seems suddenly determined to trample on, encouraged by your thick-headed lack of grace, Randall. The Coterie is being incredibly short-sighted if it thinks we would survive waging war on the Mackenroths."

"No one wants war ," Bear chipped in. "Your peacekeeping efforts are greatly appreciated by the mayoral office, Master Theta."

Theta's lip curled with contempt and an oblivious Bear reached up to lightly slap Kyle's cheek in a condescending gesture of familiarity that made him grimace. "As you ‘eard, the boss will be ‘ere soon to pick up his property. That's you, by the way."

Kyle swallowed. He'd promised not to be self-sacrificing but this hardly counted: they already had him in chains. The least he could do was try to get Akira out of his own.

"It's only me that Miles and the mayor want," he pointed out stubbornly, staring at the delicate curve of where Akira's neck met his jaw. Blood was beginning to gather there, forming into crimson drops that cascaded to the floor below. "You can let him go."

"Oh, we will," said Bear easily. Kyle blinked in surprise and the man gnashed his teeth at him with gleeful playfulness. "When ‘e says sorry."

"Benedict will be expecting an apology from you when he arrives, Epsilon," Theta explained, his voice strained. "Please don't give him cause to make it worse for any of us by refusing."

He sighed when Akira shot him a disdainful glare.

"You don't have to mean it. I taught you on your very first day with me how to please a client: you've done a lot fucking worse than say sorry . Mackenroth just needs to hear it from you."

"Shall we practice?" Bear asked in a sing-song voice, skipping over to where Akira was tethered to the floor. Kyle was beginning to suspect the man wasn't entirely stable. "Come on, Master Akira Misa…whatever. Bloody mouthful that is, isn't it? Why can't you ‘ave a normal name like the rest of us?"

Kyle scowled at him.

"You'd think with the homo…hommy…the law thingies…"

"Homogenisation laws," Theta snapped.

"Yeah, youdda thought they would ‘ave abolished all them foreign sounding names too, don't ya? Can you even speak proper Universal, Mister M, or do I need to write out what ya gonna say to the boss?"

Akira raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. "I don't believe there's a need for that. I have no intention of apologising."

"Akira," Theta snarled in admonishment. "It is quite simple. Just. Say. Sorry."

"Then I s'pose it's goodbye, Mister M," Bear drawled when Kyle's Master remained obstinately silent. He gestured Mouse and his gun forward. "The boss was quite clear that if you weren't gonna do as he said, there was no reason to keep you ‘round."

"No!" shouted Theta in echo of Kyle's own horrified exclamation, kicking off from the wall and darting between them with his hands outstretched. His silvery hair had pulled loose of its ties. "I was promised a chance!"

"And you had it."

"I can still get the apology from him," Theta babbled desperately, and the remnants of whatever affection he felt for Akira were evident in the humiliation of the plea.

Bear considered him, and then Akira. He smacked his lips to make an absurdly loud popping noise. "Very well."

He casually ruffled Akira's hair and then twisted his fingers in it so he could yank his head back. It made Akira's spine arch; an elegant, discomfited curve that Kyle would have loved to admire in any other circumstance. "Guess we ‘ave a little longer to play with ya, hmm?"

"Akira," Theta said in a low, urgent voice. "Cooperate."

Despite his contorted position, Akira gazed idly past both men, giving a convincing impression of indifference.

"I'm trying to save your life, you obtuse piece of shit!" Theta yelled, marching closer. He came to a shuddering stop before Akira's naked, kneeling form, looking half as composed and twice as terrified. "If you don't apologise to him, the mayor will kill you." A blood vessel at his temple throbbed noticeably. "You'll fall in line, Akira, or you'll die ."