the glass blue, and I whimpered, my breath steaming in wisps. Guilty pulse thudded in my throat. Me and shiny things. Why’d I have to look? Why couldn’t I just keep my stupid fingers to myself?
A tall shadow tinted the glass black, and my skin shivered at that metaldark scent. “Ice? Are you . . . Is everything okay?”
Wrapped in sultry shadow beneath the mezzanine, Akash watches Kane walk away from the yellow girl. Sensation crawls under his skin, unpleasant but compelling, and Akash labels it apprehension and savors it like fruity nectar. Delectable. His favorite so far is longing, that sweet hot pain deep inside that makes him shiver, but that one’s fickle and hard to come by.
Kane spears a swift dark glance around as he leaves, and Akash ducks back into darkness, for all the good it’ll do. Though if the demon can smell him, he’s giving no sign.
He scrapes his dark hair back for the hundredth time, just to feel his stolen body move. The physical rewards are constant yet shifting, depending on fatigue, hunger, sensory arousal, and mood. The effects are countless. He’s used to uniformity, predictability, sameness. Fascinating.
Fascinating, too, this yellow person Kane threatens. Akash remembers her from last night, on Kane’s lap with pleasure sighing from her lips. Akash can’t hear their present conversation, but a demon either threatens or seduces, and she doesn’t look seduced, not this time; her face loses color and denial glazes her honey-gold eyes.
Akash knows honey. They have honey at home, and it’s the color of her eyes, though they’re flashed now with rainbow lights like starfire. He knows seduction, too, because he’s watched it here, watched them play and tease and give each other pleasure, reluctant or eager or disgusted. He’s getting better at copying their expressions, figuring out what they mean. Seduction looks like color and warm sweat and hot breath, and this yellow person exhibits none of those.
“She looks afraid.” Beside him, Indra strokes a finger along her thigh, watching the skin bumps rise. She’s still wearing the short leather skirt. She likes it.
So does Akash. He’s never thought about what she’s wearing before.
“Yes. Well done.” His eyes swivel back to the yellow one, and he’s oddly pleased by the way his gaze lingers on her. She means something to Kane, even if it’s only as a minion. He fingers his necklace, the skulls pleasantly warm and angular on his fingertips.
“And sad. The water on her face means sad. Or angry.”
“Yes.” Indra does well. She’s already begun their collection as he ordered. He needs to examine these creatures, figure out how Kane exerts such power over them. They have a warehouse a few city blocks away to hold their specimens for interrogation and experiment. Separate boxes to keep them clean, one of each if possible. He wonders if the colors matter. “That one knows about Kane. She could be useful. Do we have a yellow one, Indra?”
“Not yet.” Indra licks her finger. “Salt.”
That tickles his interest. “Really?”
She offers it to him, with a passable happy smile. Lips curled, eyes bright, brows slightly raised. She, too, has practiced facial expressions. “Try it.”
Something inside his body tightens, like he’s tied with invisible cord. He takes her wrist and slides her fingertip between his lips. Her skin glides across his teeth. Vibration tingles his mouth. Interesting sensation. He licks her finger. Her skin is smooth, and bright salty tang tweaks the very tip of his tongue. Delicious. He lets his lips close around her painted fingernail, and on impulse he pulls with his tongue and her finger slides into his mouth up to the knuckle.
His tongue stings, aroused, and hot sensation stabs deep into his blood.
Swiftly she pulls away, her face changing color. “Don’t. It is not permitted.”
Akash swallows, licking the raw spot on his lips where her finger passed. He shifts, compelled, and movement is uncomfortable. Her human taste still fires in his mouth, the rapid hot delight of it making him wonder if he’s broken some hidden rule. He tries to speak and finds his throat dry. “What is not permitted?”
“It.” Indra looks away and sticks her finger out to let it dry.
Akash stares into the crowd, but he’s not seeing anything. He concentrates on his body, memorizing every last flush and tingle of this new sensation. He wonders if they all feel like this, so wild and uncertain and eager. It would be easy to forget purpose, feeling like this. Easy to discard higher things and