Page 27 of Prior Claim
Ruel raised his hand to stop Yekta from speaking. “But would he stand by if we ordered you to eliminate Gang Junseo or recapture him for sale?”
Sevastyan clicked his fingers, pointing to the ground in front of his feet. Rei broke posture and spun on his hands, folding himself into a kneeling form facing Sevastyan. He kept his hands on his thighs, his feet tucked under his ass. Even with death looming over him, Rei’s obedience was perfect.
“Rei is my tool,” Sevastyan said. He drew a gun from the holster under his arm and held it up, his eyes lifting in acknowledgement for the snipers who had to be above. He flipped the gun around and ejected the clip, then popped the bullets out one by one into his palm, the metal casings clicking against each other. He sent a mocking smile at the three directors and reloaded the clip without looking. Let them see what he was, one of their most perfect operators. His track record was flawless. He slammed the clip back into the gun.
What he was doing was pure arrogance. Somewhere in the Yadro, more men were running to surround the chamber, weapons in hand, because he’d drawn a gun. He looked down, holding the weapon in hand, ready for use.
Rei’s eyes were still lowered. Sevastyan studied him. It had always been like this. They were not merely two, but three: Rei, Sevastyan, and death, in an endless dance. Rei’s hands were still loose on his thighs. He had fine, strong, slender fingers. His penmanship was always exact, no matter the language he was writing. When he danced, as he often did, the motions extended beyond his arms to the tips of his digits, expressive to the end. His existence was beauty. Even if Rei himself could not see it.
Sevastyan curled his fingers under Rei’s chin, lifted him by his jaw, tilting his face upward. Rei’s eyes closed, avoiding Sevastyan’s face as he rose to an upright kneel, following the pressure. Sevastyan turned them ninety degrees, so that the untouched left side of Rei’s face was toward the directors, giving them a profile view.
Sevastyan’s finger stroked down Rei’s cheek, ordering Rei to meet his eyes.
Rei opened his eyes. They were calm. Quiet. Pools of open, unmitigated, unqualified trust. For all the wrong reasons.
I would never hurt you. Words that could not be spoken. Words that would damn them both. Words he could not say because he had hurt Rei. Had broken him in ways no one else ever would.
There could never be atonement. Only damnation. Even if this beautiful man refused to damn him.
Sevastyan tapped Rei’s lips with the end of the gun. “Open.”
Rei parted his pink, chapped lips. Sevastyan slid the barrel of the gun between Rei’s teeth and over his tongue. Rei relaxed his jaw, taking the width of the barrel all the way down. Sevastyan steadied him, holding his jaw in place. Rei’s eyes stayed fixed on Sevastyan, never wavering, even as tears gathered on the edges of his lashes, brought there by the force of the pressure in his throat. Sevastyan twisted the gun in slow circle, making a performance of spreading Rei’s saliva over the barrel.
Sanity was a myth. Sevastyan and Rei had burned it between them. Now they were at the bottom of the same pit, but only Sevastyan held the choice.
Sevastyan turned the gun left and right, making a bulge in Rei’s cheek, forcing him to open his jaw wider so the muzzle of the gun could draw lines inside his cheeks. Drool pooled on Rei’s lower lip and spilled over Sevastyan’s fingers still holding the underside of his chin.
“Beautiful,” Sevastyan murmured in Korean.
He thumbed off the safety and slid the gun down Rei’s throat. Rei’s eyes widened a fraction, and then his body went loose.
Hate me.
Sevastyan spoke in Russian for the entire space to hear. “Swallow.”
Rei tilted his head back, opening his throat, and worked it around the gun. His body bucked, all air cut off, but he stayed, obedient to the end, hands gripping his own thighs, not even reaching for Sevastyan. His eyes fluttered, signaling his consciousness slipping away.
Sevastyan drew the gun out from between Rei’s teeth and released his chin. Rei folded over, catching himself on his hands, struggling to breathe quietly, tears running from his eyes, his chest heaving. Drool and salt water sparkled on the glass tile.
Sevastyan straightened up, looking at the directors. He pointed the gun at the ceiling and clicked the safety back on.
“Replace that,” Sevastyan said.
Yekta spoke. “How long did that take?”
“When Master Alexi trusts you, you might get an answer to that question,” Sevastyan said. Yes, remember, you are not the only power. Bai Hui, with his own pass to Alexi’s parties, knew better than Ruel or Yekta what Rei actually was: a passport they couldn’t replace with cash.
Yekta made a hissing sound of disappointment, then laughed. “Tell Master Alexi his student gives convincing performances.”
“As long as you think they’re performances,” Sevastyan told her, “you’ll never have an answer.”
On the floor, Rei’s body was quickly coming back under control, the spasms in his chest growing smaller.
“You are free to go,” Bai Hui said, speaking for the first time in many minutes. “Your property is no threat to the mission.”
Sevastyan gave Bai Hui a curt nod. He would have to make a note to tell Alexi of Bai Hui’s intercession.
Sevastyan clicked his fingers, turning and walking toward the door. Rei stood and followed him from the room.
