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to listen to me? I get mad if you don’t listen.” She stopped moving immediately, dread seeping into her heart. He might be drugged and he might be silly, but I have to be very careful with this boy.

“I just remembered,” he said brightly, as if he hadn’t been angry at all. “You should take a turn with Jemical first. He’s here somewhere. Jem! I think he’s been asleep since yesterday. Jem! Get up! Jem!” His shouts were getting louder each time. There was a stirring from the far side of the room, and a fat, richly-dressed young man jerked himself out from underneath a rumpled blanket. He’d been sleeping on the floor.

“Whoo!” he cawed, his motions energetic, his eyes feverish. “It smells like a party!” He visually latched onto Nira, smiling broadly. “Are you here for a party? Hey there, Guy. Did I fall asleep?”

The drugged chaos wielder nodded. “Pissed all over yourself. The others wanted to throw you out the window, but I said no.” He seemed very proud of that. Dammit, all the others were supposed to be gone! I don’t have enough powder for two of them. Why isn’t he at the games? He must have been insensate when the others left, and no one had missed him.

The young man leaned down and patted at his satin trousers, which bore an unmistakable dried stain across the crotch and down one leg. He laughed uncontrollably, apparently finding this to be the funniest thing he’d ever seen. “I did, didn’t I?” he hooted. He wore his hair long, and several strands were stuck to his swarthy face by dried spittle. This is what rich boys do for fun? No thanks. “Gaia’s tits, what a night. Where are the others?”

“I said I saved you!” Guyrin retorted peevishly. He flopped back down on the cushions in front of himself. He didn’t seem to be wearing a shirt.

“Aw, thanks, Guy. You didn’t have to do that.” The rich lad seemed entirely unconcerned by the threat of Guyrin’s power, though that could very well have been due to the lingering effects of whatever drugs he had taken. His movements seemed jerky and manic.

“You’re right, I didn’t have to,” the chaos wielder said. “But I did anyway. Just like I’m letting you have a turn first with little miss country girl, here. Don’t have to do that, either. I’m just nice.” He gave Nira another bright smile as if to say, See? Aren’t I grand? She smiled back weakly, and he rolled back over into his nest, losing interest.

The fat young lordling and his urine stain shuffled toward her. “Now this is the right way to wake up,” he declared. “C’mere, then, and take off those clothes.” He tripped over a pillow and collapsed on the floor, laughing at himself.

Muscles tensed, Nira thought hard. I’m not letting him touch me. No way. Besides, it’d take too long, and the whole plan would be ruined. She knew that last thought was a rationalization – she was filled with disgust and fear at the thought of this drunken lordling pawing at her, having his way with her. I’ll let the chaos wielder kill me before I let that happen. He was getting back to his feet. Can’t use the powder on him. Distract him?

“You’re missing the big games, you know,” she said sweetly, wishing she weren’t half-naked. “I hear there’s a savage from the Black Isle competing.”

The young man looked up sharply in dismay, his mouth dropping open. It made his jowls wobble. “Oh no! That’s right, I had a wager down with Kriston!” He rubbed his eyes. “Why didn’t they wake me?”

“You might still make it if you hurry,” she suggested. “It’s only noon.” It was actually quite a bit later than that, but it was impossible to tell the hour in a dimmed room like this one. She wanted him to hope he could still make it to the gladiatorial bouts.

He looked to the door, deep in thought, and her heart leapt. “No,” he said slowly. “My brother Narl will be there – he can take my bets. We do it all the time.” He nodded, satisfied. “Yes. It’s fine. Shame to miss the savage, but…” he looked at her coyly, “maybe you can pretend to be a savage. Why are you still dressed? They fight their demons naked, is what I hear.” He chuckled evilly. “I can be a demon.”

Her thoughts raced. “Savage girls do it different, you know. With their men. Wouldn’t you rather be a man than a demon?” Wide-eyed and panting, the piglet lord nodded. “The men do the fighting, but the only fighting the women get to do is in bed. There, they take charge. They dominate.” She had no idea what women in the north did, but neither did this idiot, so she could say whatever she pleased. And what I please is for this sack of guts to never touch me. “Get on your knees, savage.”

Grinning, he complied. “I like this,” he whispered. “I should take a trip out to the country some time. City girls are boring.”

“Quiet!” she commanded. She untied one of the scarves that made up the gauze of her skirt, drawing his eyes to the expanse of thigh that it uncovered. “In fact,” she continued, “I think I’m going to make you stay quiet.” Approaching him, she trailed the scarf across his face, and he nipped at it playfully. “None of that,” she purred, and she pulled the cloth tight across his mouth, tying it behind his head, gagging him. He growled and reached for her, but she skipped back out of reach. “Play the game!” she admonished. “Give me your hands.”

Amazingly, he complied, putting his hands out in front, wrists together. His eyes were crazed with lust, and he laughed and muttered behind his gag. This is what happens when you have too much time and money. Only something twisted can get your attention. She took his hands roughly and moved

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