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I met his eyes. Drink, man. Please drink.

Around us people kept talking – gardening, the weather, who was screwing who, maybe. I didn’t listen, my attention wholly on this man.

He began to speak, the rolling low timbre of his words distracted me for a few seconds, then I understood what he asked. “The next argument of yours, girl? Why is this wrong? I’m selling you tomorrow.”

He swallowed. Oh god. How long before it worked?

Would I see a difference?

“Speak. Give me two reasons. You have one tick so far. Majority wins.” He winked.

Wins what? “You’re selling me to someone who wants to torture a CIA agent. How can I win?”

“No I’m not.” The frown seemed to say it was a truth he believed. That was impossible. I’d heard him say this.

“Who then?”

His hand arrived under my jaw, stroking the length of the bone. Such a large hand. I’d often felt its heaviness. Even if he wasn’t able to make me kneel for him and surrender my neck to his grasp, or lick his boots, those hands would still make me afraid.

“A cartel member, yes, but he just wants you for a sexual partner. He’ll harm you less than I might.” His finger tapped his glass. “The things I’d do. But I keep myself as good as I can.”

I was his key and he wanted the key far away. Or so he’d said. He said so many contradictory things. “What you let the others do to me last night wasn’t bad? Jesus.” I sighed.

Silence. His face barely changed but it was enough for me to see a hint of puzzlement, maybe even fear. Fear, in him?

I began to wonder if he remembered what he’d let them do. And if not...that bothered me. Did he not know what his monster did when he allowed it out? Was it him and was he it? Or were they two halves that barely met?

Fuck.

“You’re avoiding what I asked. Answer. Argue your side. Convince me I’m wrong to have taken you.”

“It’s bad for you,” I blurted.

“Go on.”

“You’ve been made into this monster, locked yourself away from society. You could have done so much good by living as a normal man.”

Another swallow of wine went down and I tried not to look at his throat.

“The only expert on that is me. I think I prefer this. I have years left to live and as a mesmer, I have powers. I have acquired money, friends.” His smile stilled my heart. Keep beating, keep beating. “Lovers. Before I was a lowly potential lawyer with a life in ruins after my fiancée dumped me. I like what happened, but I’ll award you a half tick. Fair?”

I nodded. Did he truly believe he liked himself as he was now? Maybe that was his monster speaking through him? Who was the real Isak and could he come back if drugged? Soon, I might find out.

“Give me another argument. The night grows old. Maybe we can all fuck you in a conga line if you get this one wrong?”

The man to my right laughed. He’d heard. They couldn’t be innocents.

“It’s bad for me then.” So true.

“Is it now?” Isak picked up a sharp knife, one smeared with food, positioned it point down over the white tablecloth and spun it, slowly. “Tell me more.”

“I could be normal, doing my job, happy.”

“But a mesmer can make you very happy. True? Have you ever climaxed like you did when I handled you.”

Blushing should be impossible after everything, yet my cheeks heated. “No. Life is more than orgasms, sex.”

“But that is a primary need of humans – sex. Agree?”