Page 49 of Iblis' Affliction

“Slater never lies, Master,” the reaper croaked, slowly turning around. His eyes, burning with desire, fixed on Talha, pupils blown.

“Fine,” Talha gave up, hoping Dinçer didn’t notice Slater’s arousal. “Can you prove your words? I can’t kill a person based solely on your word.”

“No?” Slater’s head tilted to the side. “Too bad. Master should start trusting Slater.”

Dinçer laughed, earning a dark glare from the reaper. “Go and tell this to Behçet, you renegade. No one will ever trust you here.”

“Is that so?” Slater’s facial muscle tensed, making his expression insane with the mix of anger and lust in it. “Master will. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but Master will.”

“Enough,” Talha cut him off before Slater could say something inappropriate. “Prove your words now.”

“As you wish, Master…” Slater hissed. “Two weeks before the mosque shootout, Toothless met Behçet. They talked for forty minutes before they shook on a deal.”

“Which deal?”

“Toothless is being late to the mosque, so Talha doesn’t get support in time. Toothless helps Behçet to kill Talha, and they share Istanbul.”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t present in any of Behçet’s meetings?” Dinçer interrupted.

“Slater wasn’t invited, so Slater remained in shadows.”

“Eavesdropped?” Dinçer scoffed, and Slater grinned.

“Yes.”

“Why do you even want him, Talha? He is a traitor. He will betray you too.”

“Let’s imagine I believe you,” Talha ignored Dinçer’s remark. “Can you prove this?”

“Proof…” Slater stretched the vowels as he shuffled up to a window and peered out. “I’ll bring you the proof tonight.”

“Don’t show up without it,” Talha said, bringing his attention to his friend. “Help me to arrange the party. I’m running out of time.”

Without a word, Slater stole to the door, but Dinçer’s hand seized his elbow. “Wait. I want to ask you something.”

Slater snarled. “No one touches Slater.”

“Sorry.” Stepping back, Dinçer gave the reaper space. “In the mosque, there was a teenage boy. Do you know him?”

“Yes,” was Slater’s only reply, but contempt poisoned his beautiful features.

“Tell me about him.”

“Why?”

“Because I have him.”

“Little Ifrit[21]is alive?” Slater’s eyes hardened.

“Ifrit?”

“Behçetwas greedy. Iblis wasn’t enough, so he found Ifrit.”

“I haven’t heard of him.” Glancing at Talha, Dinçer shrugged.

“He wasn’t fully active,” Slater explained, his expression a mix of boredom and annoyance, as if the topic irritated him.

“Why did he want someone else?” It was the first time he’d heard about Ifrit as well. If the boy was at least half as capable as Slater, maybe he didn’t need Iblis. “Did he want to get rid of you?”