Chapter 24
Collecting his samples, Elliot curiously watched from the corner of his eye as soldiers carried stretchers of wounded mongrels from the tunnels. He initially had started to follow the other Blondies inside, but the plant life surrounding the entrance had proved more interesting than the rescue attempt within.
However, as his sample containers filled, Elliot’s curiosity of what was going on outside of his botany world began to creep in. He listened as the echoes of his fellow Blondies bellowed their anger over offences done to their simpering little pets. Yes, to have an Elite’s pet be damaged was appalling. However, to have that pet—that possession—be a Blondies, it was beyond shameful. It was a disgrace. If Elliot were like any other Elite, he would be capitalizing on his high-ranking brethren’s dishonor.
If he were like any other Elite. But, he was not.
Besides, even if he held such thoughts, to attempt to stand against Iason Mink was a death sentence. Whispers were circulating of the disappearance of an Onyx Elite, whose pet magically ended up in the custody of Gideon Lagat. There were those that hinted that the Onyx, Jerico Ervic, had defied Iason and angered the Blondie so much so, that Iason had done away with the black-haired Elite.
The rumors were annoying. As were all the gossip he was force to listen to about Iason’s rebellious lover.
Did he care Iason had a mongrel as a pet? No. Iason’s choice of playthings had never interested him. However, a certain level of snobbery and prejudice was expected from him, and even if he despised the deception, he played his part. All so that those watching left him alone so he could continue doing what he enjoyed. And his dislike for the black-haired mongrel stemmed only from the disruptions the rebellious creature caused in his life. If the mongrel did something they thought was scandalous, his brethren did not think twice about interrupting him, which forced Elliot to put whatever experiments he was conducting on hold.
Elliot grimly stared at the vial he held in his hand.
He may have showed Iason his hand when he demanded to join the Blondie in his expedition. Not that Elliot cared. To journey into Ceres—an area untouched by his people in well over a hundred years—had been a chance he could not slip through his fingers. There was no telling if such an opportunity would come his way again, and if it landed him under Iason’s heavy thumb, then so be it.
His issues were far more pressing than the annoyance of his esteemed leader potentially blackmailing him in the future. Their soil was failing them. The richness of Amoi’s dirt had been losing its capability to nourish its plant life for years now. Less than half of Amoi’s surface had the minerals needed to sustain vegetation—greenery that was wildly abundant in Ceres. The compound his department developed in their labs to assist the growth of produce was anything but a solution. He had bought his people time, and that time was almost up.
Ceres was the last frontier on the planet his team had not explored. If a permanent answer could not be found in the mongrels’ territory, the only option would be to seek their entire food source off world. To do so would alert other advanced worlds of their plight, and it would be a weakness their enemies would exploit. Which might have been just one of the reasons why Iason had allowed him to join them in their little pet hunt.
Elliot smiled.
Another might have been because the mighty Blondie knew he spoke the truth, when Elliot threatened to kill the guards Iason would have used to confine him. Elliot would have disposed of the bodies by using the corpses as compost—fertilizer to enrich their planet’s soil and edible vegetation. Even the mighty Iason Mink would not want to eat something…
Elliot frowned.
Then again, he would not put it past the Blondie to find some sort of sick delight in the knowledge. If anything, Iason might like—
“Well, well, what do you know? Didn’t think there were Blondies who liked to play in the dirt.”
Growling, Elliot abruptly stood and carefully pocketed the soil sample into his coat. Turning on his heel, he glared at Jared and a strange blond, who, on a stretcher, was being carefully lowered to the ground by syndicate soldiers. The blonde’s pale face twisted in pain. Blood soaked, nearly naked, the male outrageously winked at him and gave Elliot an insulting salute.
“What? Cat got your tongue, Blondie?” the blond asked.
“Sir,” a med tech chided, “I need you to hold still—”
“It’s ‘your royal highness’, butt-nut,” the blond corrected snottily. “Not sir. You wanna put a title on me? Then use the one I was born with.”
“Rio,” Jared sighed. “Listen to him. He is trying—“
“My patients, is what he’s fucking doing,” the blond hissed. “The measly amount of painkillers he’s giving me ain’t gonna do shit, not with my high tolerance. And the bandages itch!”
Elliot blinked in astonishment when Jared did not correct his pet. Royal highness? He knew of Jared’s new little love doll, because all of Eos had erupted with the fact that the male’s natural locks were like that of a high-ranking Blondie. But, royalty? Jared was not so foolish that he would dare steal a member of nobility, and subjugate him to the embarrassment of being a pet, would he?
However, the way Jared hovered over the unknown noble is what caused Elliot to gap unseemly at the other Elite. There was an intimacy in the Blondie’s gaze when he looked upon the wounded young man. A look Elliot did not quite understand, but knew went beyond that of what a master should appropriately show his pet, regardless of who his pet was. And Elliot’s suspicions were confirmed when Jared kneeled and tenderly caressed the blonde’s forehead and cheek. No Elite would display such scandalous affection to their pet. No one save Iason, but Iason was a different matter altogether.
“What have you done,” Elliot gasped. Iason stealing Riki from his natural habitat was one thing. The loss of a single organism, from a colony of identical organisms, would not have been missed. However, Jared had removed a vital source from a world that could potentially cause a catastrophic chain reaction for all of them!
“Tell me you did not kidnap a noble and make him your pet, Jared,” Elliot asked with disbelief coloring his tone. It was clear from what he just saw that Jared touched the blond inappropriately, just as Iason did with his pet. Iason having sex with his mongrel as an experiment was one thing—one disturbing thing—but another Elite following in Iason’s footsteps? Jared being intimate was not impossible, but him doing so… Why?
Elliot never saw the attraction in exchanging bodily fluids. The very thought was so unsanitary and…disgusting. Which was why he never took delight in attending pet shows, nor did he keep a pet longer than necessary. Watching genetically created love dolls grind upon each other was just so…gross and,—he was lowering himself by using an abbreviation to describe his feelings on the matter—but eww.
“And how,” the blond cheerfully announced, giving Elliot a wicked, pain filled, grin. “Jared, kidnapping a prince and forcing him to do sick and deprived sexual acts on him—”
“Enough, Rio,” Jared gently scolded. “Calm down and rest.”
The blonde’s mischievous grin twisted into a grimace. “I’m in too much pain to ‘rest’, Jared. And I’m too well trained to pass out. I need more drugs.”
“Once we get you to a hospital, and safely monitor you, we shall see about giving you a larger douse of sedatives,” Jared said lowering his head.
Bile rose up Elliot’s throat as he watched Jared kiss the blond on the mouth, and gagged when he saw a bit of tongue. “Stop,” Elliot said, feeling sick by what he witnessed. However, by trying to keep the contents of his stomach from spewing outward, his ‘plea’ came out as more of a snarled demand than a request.
He should be use to these outrages shows of nauseating affection, having seen Iason and his mongrel more than once engaging in such outlandish displays. However, Jared was not Iason, and the blond was not Riki. In the years that Riki lived in Eos, Elliot had had enough time to mentally prepare himself for such sights. And thankfully his revulsion was mistaken as stupid repugnance toward Riki.
For it to be disgustingly thrown in his face—
“You are in this now, Elliot,” Jared said. “You’ve taken the first step and it will not be long until you are pushed to take the next one.”
“What a tangled web you have trapped yourself in, little fly.” The blond grinned.
Elliot ignored them both as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself as he spun on his heel and strode into the tunnel to get away from them. He could not look at Jared as he touched his pet. Let them think he turned away because he was disgusted by their intimate gestures toward one another. It was the truth and he did not care if they knew it.
Elliot did not consider himself a prude. He had once delighted in the viewing of pets copulating, but the mess that came with the constant grunts and groans of pets mixing their cells together…
Elliot curled his lip.
He would never understand—and did not want to understand—the so-called fascination of sex. And he doubted anyone could convince him otherwise.
Marcus circled Aisha. The both of them were bleeding from their mouth, head, and scrapped fists, and Marcus knew deep down that the violence they were inflicting to each other was wrong… but he didn’t care.
He did not care about the damage he brought about. He did not care if Aisha’s transgressions were not justifiable enough to seek the punishing actions he was trying to administer. Marcus did not care that he struck his fists out at his old friend—the only true friend he had.
He never would have harmed Keita’s twin. Even as angered as he was, Marcus would never have raised a cruel hand toward the young man. The very fact that he had allowed Aisha to call the med team and take Keita’s twin away should have been proof enough. However, when he heard Keita’s brother admit his guilt—heard the possible fate of his lively little mongrel, Marcus snapped. And when Aisha stepped in his way when all he wanted to do was ask the little rat a question, Marcus found in Aisha an outlet to safely vent his rage.
The impact of when Aisha and he collided for the first time had felt cleansing. Every connection his fists made to Aisha’s body, and every strike he felt from Aisha, had calmed him. He did not want it to stop. He and Aisha grappling for control over each other. The barbaric need to be the one left standing helped to fill the growing frightening abyss, which had first appeared the moment Marcus saw his beloved mongrel’s bloody armband.
He wanted to hurt something—someone—and Aisha was the safest option for him to unleash his fury upon. And he wanted someone to hurt him… He wanted a distraction from the true pain he was feeling on the inside. The alien emotions of the sorrow and fear eating at him was overwhelming. He could not think past the fate that could have befallen his mongrel. Especially not after what Keita’s twin said.
Disposed of…
His Keita was not a piece of trash to be tossed aside, and the very thought that Keita could have been… Growling deep in his throat, Marcus hefted a large stone broken off from the ceiling and threw it at his dear friend. The thick piece of rubble clipped Aisha’s shoulder, ripping an enraged snarl from the other Blondie.
“Tired, brother?” Marcus sneered. “You should have been able to move yourself out of the way long before the little rock left my hands.”
Aisha laughed mockingly. “A miscalculation on my part, dear brother. I had thought a Blondie, such as yourself, would have had more strength than this pitiful display.”
His lips twisted upward in a cruel smile. Marcus watched a droplet of blood trail, from the jagged under the Blondie’s eye, as it slowly curled down Aisha’s cheek. “Then why do you not teach me what it means to truly have the strength of a Blondie, Aisha.”
Aisha’s name barely left Marcus’s lips before the Elite attacked, much to his enjoyment. Both of their biceps straining as they grabbed, pushed and shoved, fighting for dominance. It was exhilarating. No matter what Aisha or he tried to do, they could not overpower each other. They were Blondies and equal—physically and mentally—in every way.
“What are you doing?”
The glacier tone washed over Marcus, chilling him with the calm threat laced in each syllable. However, the hands that grabbed Aisha and he by the throat is what ended the war between them. Slammed up against the wall, Marcus hissed out a breath from the strength of the impact, as did Aisha. Ice-blue eyes bore into his with so much fury that Marcus’s demands for released fell silent.
Marcus felt no shame in being caught fighting like a savage, and he would have continued the meaningless act of violence if not for the astonishing and shocking fact that he could not break free of Iason’s hold. Aisha’s outraged low-pitched growl confirmed that he too was having the same difficulties Marcus was having. No amount of pressure or power he put into his hands, wrapped around Iason’s wrists, did any good. The leather wearing Blondie held Aisha and him effortlessly in his grip.
“I would ask you both to please desist in this pointless exercise,” Iason said, his smile less than pleasant. “While nothing would amuse me than to watch you, the ruckus the both of you are making is disturbing the search teams’ ability to listen for distress calls. If they cannot hear, then those dear to us will continue to be lost.”
Marcus immediately stopped resisting, not that he had a choice.
“Now, I’m sure whatever disagreement you are having can be resolved at a later date, yes?” Iason asked.
Marcus’s eyes narrowed when Iason’s fingers tighten around his throat.
“It would—” Iason leaned in closer—“displease me considerably if my attention was taken away from finding Riki.”
“There was no disagreement,” Aisha finally said after a long bit of silence. “Marcus needed to expel some pent up energy, and I volunteered my services.”
“Is this true, Marcus?” Iason said. A pale brow arched in question.
“It might be,” Marcus said slapping Iason’s hand off him, and annoyed with the knowledge that it was only because Iason decided to release him that he was free. His initial shock of Iason’s superior strength over his own wore off quickly. He should not have been surprised. Jupiter’s less than subtle notes of affection toward Iason only confirmed what they already knew. Iason was more than ‘just a Blondie’.
However, the lack of malice in Aisha’s voice that captured Marcus’s attention, rather than the obvious heightened enhancements Iason had over them. Facing Aisha, Marcus could not detect a hint of the hate-like fury Aisha had displayed when they fought. He instead saw… concern.
“I will leave Marcus to you, Sir Iason.” Aisha turned and walked away, saying over his shoulder, “And I will comfort Sky with the knowledge the search of his brother is in more than capable hands.”
Marcus watched Aisha disappear. He felt no regret for his actions. No guilt for causing his brother harm. None at all. Yet, a part of him remorsed that he had damaged his relationship with Aisha by lashing out as he had.
“I would have never thought you were capable of such passion, Marcus,” Iason said. “Well done.”
Marcus blinked at Iason.
The Blondie smirked at Marcus. “First your reaction in my apartment, and now this. It only goes to show how far you—how far everyone has evolved.”
Marcus did not reply. He did not care to analyze Iason’s cryptic message. He followed Iason as they wondered down illuminated tunnels filled with soldiers examining rooms they had discovered previously. He stayed silent as the hours passed and they had yet to find Keita and Riki… and he said nothing still when every report came back with the same negative results. The release Marcus had felt fighting Aisha had disappeared well before dusk fell. However, when the hours piled heavily upon each other one after another and the night bled into dawn, his growing fury churned in his stomach. Marcus had to bite his cheek to keep from screaming in anger and despair. His only silent comfort was Iason, and the fact that his leader had yet to find his mongrel too.
His eyes searched down a dimly lit tunnel already cleared and abandoned by search parties. Where are you?
There was no stone that had been left unturned by their teams. So where are you?
Where was his spryly little mongrel? Marcus exhaled a shaky breath and tried to rub away the persistent, and ever growing, ache in his chest. What would he do without Keita in his life? He could not think of there being another day without Keita teasing him, touching him, making him laugh. All at once, the fuel he had been feeding his fury flickered out, and the bleakness of what his life could be like without Keita flashed before him.
“Do you think she did this?” Marcus softly said to the Blondie that had not left his side, lending him his silent support. “Is this our punishment for seeking happiness?”
Iason’s pale eyes lift from the stone he had been rolling between his hands and narrowed dangerously. “She is—”
“Absolutely amazing!”
Marcus and Iason softly growled as Elliot Maress grinningly—stupidly—strode up to them. The Blondie was beaming with joy, an emotion he did not welcome. And, from the stone rendered to dust in Iason’s clenched fist, the Blondie did not find Elliot’s interruption pleasing either.
“Nytefloria Hipolocina,” Elliot announced, holding up a bunch of weeds tenderly in his fist that were dotted with equally weed-like white blossoms.
“Why are you still here, Elliot?” Marcus tightly asked.
Elliot blinked at them, as if noticing for the first time to whom exactly he had been speaking to. “Why would I leave?” the Blondie asked. “Ceres is a cornucopia of exotic plant life we thought to have gone extinct on Amoi. Do you know what this blossom could mean to the community?”
“Does its pollen kill overly pretentious Blondies foolish enough to pull it free from the ground?” Marcus asked, not that Elliot heard him. The Elite chattered on, more to himself than to Iason and him.
“The blossom alone is worth hundreds of thousands, and when the harmful impurities are removed…” The Blondie stared at them with stars in his eyes. “We need to find the main bushel, the female. This is a male, as you can see by the small size.”
Iason dusted his hands. “Now is not the time—”
“This particular flora inhabits places that have limited, to no, light. Natural or not,” Elliot continued. “I found it not too far from the entrance, which means it must have come from a cavern below us.”
Marcus froze. “Cavern?” His heart racing with hope.
Elliot grinned proudly. “There has to be an underground cavern here, and from the looks of its healthy roots—”
“Where exactly did you find it,” Iason demanded. “Show me now, Elliot.”
Marcus did more than ask. Yanking the weed from the Blondie’s protesting hand, he turned and shoved Elliot to get him moving. “If you want it back before I crush it, Elliot, you will take us there now,” he hissed. He had already crossed the line and struck one brother, he had no problem striking another.
The three of them marched through the labyrinth of narrow tunnels, they almost reached the entrance when Elliot began to slow and pay closer attention to the ground closest to the wall. “Here,” Elliot said. His white gloves stained with mud, he pointed to a spot on the floor. “This is where I found it.”
Marcus growled in frustration. He had walked down this hall more time than he could count. If there were anything here, he, Iason, or any number of the soldiers searching with them would have found something. “Elliot—”
“Quiet, Marcus,” Iason said.
Marcus opened his mouth to argue, but slowly shut it when Iason walked forward. Iason’s steps were deliberately heavy and the emotion that came crashing down on him threatened to bring Marcus to his knees, when Iason’s heel clanked dully against metal. Marcus immediately shouted for backup, and soldiers rushed to their side.
“The traffic had to have cleared the layers of dirt covering the metal plate, Sirs,” a soldier said as he, and two other guards, helped to lift it up and out of the way. Taking glow stick from a soldier, Iason dropped the light down into the hole and they all watched as the darkness swallowed it. The sound of a faint splash returned to them.
“I faintly can hear voices,” Elliot muttered. “Sounds like there is an altercation of some kind going on down there.”
“Sounds like a bloody war.” Marcus grinned. “And I aim to pick a side.” Shoving the guards out of his way and ignoring their shouted warnings, Marcus jumping down the hole and after a lengthy fall landed in a cold pool of unknown depths. Surfacing, the only thing that saved Marcus from painfully ‘catching’ Iason was the soft whisper of the Blondie’s leather. Swimming out of the way, Marcus shielded his face from the chilling sprays of Iason’s monstrous splash.
A quick glance up and Marcus saw a pinpoint of light, signaling just how far a distance he had fallen before swimming to shore with Iason. The darkness pressed down on all sides of him, and even with his enhanced eyesight, Marcus had a hard time maneuvering in the open space. Thankfully, with Iason leading, they did not have far to travel before they arrived behind the ‘war’ they had heard from above.
His eyes frantically searched the tangled fighting bodies in the dim torch light for Keita. Marcus passed over his lover numerous times before he recognized the fighting, crazy, bloody mess of a laughing lunatic, as his mongrel. The moment he had Keita in his sight, Marcus lifted his head and a war cry ripped loudly from his throat before he charged into the thick of it all.
His gaze locked on his target, Marcus barely acknowledged the men that fell dead by his hand. His only goal was the long blue-haired mongrel, who was gleefully fighting back-to-back with another long-haired man Marcus did not recognize, and Riki.
Comprehending the tables had turned with their arrival—or maybe because Iason held four men three feet off the ground, two wiggling, dirty parasites clenched in each fist—the remaining strangers retreated into the waiting darkness. Marcus could have cared less.
“Keita.” Rushing forward, Marcus scooped Keita into his arms. The mongrel snarled, twisting and turning in his embrace. It took all Marcus had not to drop him. Keita howled like a wounded animal as he fought for his release, but Marcus kept a firm hold on him. His heart ached at Keita’s actions and at the bloody wounds marring his beautiful mongrel’s body. The brief eye contact they had made, made Marcus realize that his lover did not recognize him.
There was something wrong with him. Gritting his teeth, Marcus set the mongrel to his feet with his back facing him, hugged him tightly, and then bit Keita hard on the shoulder until his lover whimpered in pain. Growling when Keita’s nails dug into his forearms, Marcus released his shoulder and said, “Cease your incisive wiggling, Keita! You’re transferring your filth onto me.”
Panting heavily, Keita stilled instantly. “Ma…M-Marcus?”
A shiver of delight traveled through Marcus’s body when he heard Keita say his name. “I’m here,” he whispered and turned Keita in his arms. Brushing the tangled mess of his hair out of his eyes, Marcus caressed his mongrel’s dirty cheek with his fingertips. “I’m here.”
A lone tear streaked down the side of Keita’s face to greet Marcus’s touch. “You’re all dirty…”
Marcus laughed softly. “Yes. However, only you know how dirty I like it.”
Trembling lips lifted. “You made a joke.”
Whatever alarming wildness Marcus had seen in Keita’s eyes before was now gone, and the mongrel he knew and loved stared up at him. “I do try on occasion.”
Keita slowly wrapped his arms around Marcus’s waist, and hid his face in his chest. “It wasn’t very good…”
Marcus grunted. “Thus the reason why I said ‘try’.”
“Are you real?” Keita suddenly whispered, clenching the back of his shirt. “I need you to be real.”
Tightening his arms, Marcus kissed the crown of Keita’s head. “I’m real, baby. Did you think I would let you escape me? I will always come for you, Keita. Always. I love you, my feisty little mongrel.”
A soft sob escaped his mongrel, and Marcus thanked the heavens he had Keita back in his arms where he belonged.
oOoOoOo
“Well, what do you know? You were right, Riki.”
Riki did not attempt to move from Iason when he heard Julius’s remark. His Blondie was pissed, and the one thing Riki knew was that when Iason was when at this level of pissed off, any sudden movement was a big no, no. Riki stayed still and allowed Iason to inspect him with his eyes and hands, until the hulking Blondie shuddered with relief and pull him into his arms.
He knew he looked a mess. There was no way he didn’t, not after fighting for Jupiter knew how fucking long, and Riki was thankful. Iason would have immediately ripped him a new one if he looked anything less than a ‘I had to literally kill a dozen douchebags to stay alive’.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” Riki whispered, then grinned as he tugged at the edge of the leather vest that deliciously hugged Iason’s sculptured chest.
His face cupped in Iason’s hands, Riki closed his eyes as his Blondie tenderly brushed his lips with his. The gentleness of Iason’s trembling touch… Riki was at a loss. “Don’t tell me you were concerned?” Riki muttered. “You know I can take care of myself. Plus, I had Fidget and Julius to watch my back.”
“Julius?” Iason asked, the first word the Blondie had spoken since charging up and ruthlessly dispatching the mongrels trying to take him down.
Jerking his thumb over his shoulder and hoping Julius was still standing behind him, Riki said, “Yeah, Julius. A mongrel that fucking prick, Landon, experimented on then tossed down here.”
“Landon,” Iason snarled.
Riki shivered at the murderous expression that flashed across Iason’s face. But, before Riki could ask Iason if he knew the Elite he had named, beams of light, shouts, and running feet stilled his questions.
“Go with them, beloved,” Iason told him, pushing Riki to the guards that arrived. “I need you safe.”
Riki opened his mouth to argue, but his survival instinct was still running high and even though Iason appeared calm, Riki knew the Blondie was anything but composed. He would have to wait until they were back in Eos, so, grudgingly, Riki did as Iason ‘requested’.
Watching his lover being led safely away, Iason turned his attention back to the man waiting silently at the edge of darkness. A man he had witnessed fighting side-by-side with Marcus’s mongrel and Riki, who had protected his mongrel from harm. Iason looked him up and down and noted the damage done to his body—the half-healed surgical wounds mirrored those of his Blondies mongrels. The long hair. The deceptiveness if youth.
“There is much you have to report, Ghost,” Iason said.
The man smiled and bowed low at the waist. “Yes, milord, there is.”
Serum – Chapter 23 ★ ～☆ Serum – Chapter 25
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Doin' it, and lovin' every minute of it 