by Sarah Hawke
I paused and watched him for a few minutes before I approached. He was anxious, judging from his incessant pacing and jittery body language. Not that I blamed him in the slightest; my Senosi sisters weren’t above using their feminine wiles to seduce young, randy male sorcerers. Their tortured screams echoed through the Castarium far too often for my tastes.
I grimaced at the thought. I really should have enjoyed watching our prey suffer. Just because I disagreed with some of the Inquisitrix’s methods didn’t mean I had abandoned her ideology. Sorcerers were dangerous, and male sorcerers doubly so. They couldn’t be trusted to control their destructive, rapacious impulses. The Senosi weren’t perfect, but we were a necessary evil—Vorsalos’s transformation was proof enough of that. Ten years ago the Brotherhood had controlled half the city, and they’d organized their slave orgies in broad daylight! Now they had been driven into the bowels of the underworld, and soon enough my Senosi sisters and I would destroy them altogether.
And all it will cost you is your soul.
I closed my eyes and hissed between my teeth. If I was being honest with myself, my disagreements with the Inquisitrix went far beyond her “methods,” otherwise I never would have forged an alliance—temporary or otherwise—with a man like Jorem Farr. I genuinely wanted to help him escape, and not just because I found him so attractive…though that certainly didn’t hurt. In many ways, he was the perfect embodiment of everything that was wrong with our blind anti-sorcery purge. He was dangerous, yes, but he had also spent the last few months healing impoverished refugees in the slums. He deserved a different fate than a raping, slaving murderer like Sobren Lecasi. If the Inquisitrix wouldn’t give it to him, then I would.
After I fed off him again, of course. There was no way in the abyss he was leaving this city before I gorged on his seed again. A girl needed to have her priorities in order.
“You’re early,” I said, slinking out from the shadows.
Jorem whipped his head around so fast I was surprised his neck didn’t pop. “You’re late,” he replied, eyeing my thick cloak. “I hope you’re not expecting to get into a Brotherhood party dressed like that.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, pulling back my hood and opening the cloak. “Not elven enough for his tastes?”
His jaw hung open, and I could feel his sorcerous blood pumping into his cock. I allowed him to leer for a solid thirty seconds before I covered up.
“Not bad,” he squeaked, turning away before I could see the bulge in his trousers. “Hopefully it’s enough to get us close. There’s still a decent chance they’ll just try and kill me the moment I open the door.”
“Let’s hope not…for your sake,” I said. “No Sobren, no escape to Highwind.”
Jorem pursed his lips and nodded. “I just realized you never actually told me your name.”
“You’re right, I didn’t.”
He sighed. “So what am I supposed to call you?”
“‘Mistress’ is probably appropriate, but Valuri is also fine,” I said with a smirk. I didn’t actually need to be cagey—my name wasn’t a secret. But I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to torment him.
“Valuri it is,” he replied. “This way. The Brotherhood always starts these things early.”
He escorted me down the street into a residential area on the edge of the district. Guard patrols were common here, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Brotherhood had paid off half the officers. The city watch was far less corrupt now than when the Inquisitrix had risen to power, but that didn’t mean it was nonexistent. Coin was still the one true power in the multiverse.
“Here,” Jorem said, gesturing towards a nearby building with his chin. “There’s an entrance in back.”
I nodded and glanced back and forth across the rooftops. I didn’t spot or sense any stalkers, but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t there. I could already feel the weight of a dozen eyes settling upon us.
“Let me do most of the talking,” he added. “If things go south…well, I hope you can run in those heels.”
I smiled and removed my cloak. His lips parted again, and I could feel his heart pounding as he drank in my slender figure. If I wasn’t worried about messing up my makeup and false lenses, I would have been seriously tempted to drop to my knees, pin him against the nearest building, and coax another steaming batch of his magical seed down my throat. Perhaps later, when the glow of the vatari dust beneath my skin wouldn’t give me away.
“There’s also a real chance the boss isn’t actually here,” Jorem added as he forcibly dragged his eyes away from me. “If that’s the case…I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do.”
“We’ll manage,” I assured him. “Even if Sobren isn’t around, someone down there will know where he is. All we have to do is get the right people to talk.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“I can be very persuasive,” I said. “You and I are working together, aren’t we?”
He grunted. “In theory. The way I figure it, there’s still a fifty-fifty chance I end up strapped to a table in the Castarium surrounded by your cackling sisters.”
I frowned at the sudden and unexpected knot twisting in the pit of my stomach. I was genuinely upset that he didn’t believe me. But why? He was a sorcerer, and I was a Senosi Huntress. Any rational person in his position would have doubted me no matter how much I tugged and sucked his cock. The fact he was here should have been good enough.
But it’s not, is it? The truth is that he is your redemption—your proof that you aren’t really as deplorable as the rest of your sisters. If he doesn’t believe you, then why should you believe yourself?
“Let’s just get this over with,” Jorem said with a sigh.
I slid my arm into his. “Lead the way.”
We maneuvered through a narrow alley then looped around the back of the building. Two of the largest, meanest-looking men I had ever seen were guarding the hatch of a staircase leading underground. Neither of them was wearing armor or carrying any visible weapons, though judging from the numerous scars on their arms and faces they had clearly seen plenty of battle.
“Farr,” one of them snapped in a deep, raspy voice that almost sounded like he was breathing fire. “What in the bloody hells are you doing here?”
“What, I’m suddenly not invited to the big parties?” Jorem asked with a snort. “I figured your boss would be more grateful after I saved that shipment from the Glorfinger boys.”
“He was grateful. That’s why he paid you.” The speaker crossed his enormous arms and scowled. “You have a lot of guts showing your face here after you walked away from the Waybrook job. One pretty little cunt on a leash isn’t going to buy your way back into the boss’s good graces.”
“No, but I figure it can’t hurt,” Jorem said. “Consider her a ‘welcome home’ present.”
The goons took turns leering at me, and I made sure to clutch Jorem’s arm and keep my eyes on the ground. “You dig yet another whore out of Maple’s barn uptown?”
“She’s a dancer fresh off the boat from Greygale looking for some extra work,” Jorem said, gently lifting my chin so they could get a good look at my face. “The boss is always looking for new talent. I figured we could maybe do each other a favor.”
The second man took a step forward and examined me more closely, especially my pointed ears. “Boss is busy these days. He doesn’t have time to inspect all the merchandise himself. Now, if you just leave her with us for a bit…”
Jorem snorted. “The moment you touch her, she loses half her value. No, I think I’ll introduce her myself, thanks. Now, are you going to open the door or what?”
The two idiots looked stupid enough that they might actually put up a fight. My Senosi training kicked in, and I instinctively mapped out all the ways I could kill them before they caused a scene. The first one was close enough that I could drive one of my hair needles through his neck before he screamed, but the second one was more
difficult. I would have to chop his throat to kill his voice before I pulled off my heel and—
“Get inside,” the first thug said. “Lucky for you we’re in generous mood today.”
“I always knew I was blessed by the gods,” Jorem muttered. “Come on, sweetheart.”
We descended the stairwell, and the metal door at the bottom opened a moment later. A second pair of thugs that every bit as burly and unhygienic as the last waved us inside, and the sweet, dulcet tones of a female singer soon filled my ears. I had plenty of experience with underground clubs—they had always been popular in Vorsalos thanks to the local bard college—but this was far larger than I had expected. The main room alone was probably a hundred feet wide and fifty deep, and it was packed wall-to-wall with some of the best-dressed filth in the entire Northern Reaches.
“So many slaves,” I whispered incredulously as my eyes flicked back and forth between all the scantily-clad women attached to the arms of powerful men. “How did they survive the purge?”
“Because organized crime isn’t something you can just sweep under the rug even when you have a throng of assassins at your beck and call,” Jorem mumbled. “The purge just transformed Vorsalos from a destination to a port. Most of these girls won’t be here for long—someone will slap them on a ship headed south soon enough. These days they’re mostly islanders. Pirates snag them up and unload them here.” He shook his head. “The Brotherhood isn’t stupid, no matter what you might think. These people are almost always one step ahead of whoever is trying to stop the coin flow.”
I cleared my throat and made certain to keep the reflexive disgust off my face. Jorem hadn’t been wrong about calling this party an “orgy.” At least half the guests were openly fucking right now, many with multiple partners. The floors, the tables, the walls—everywhere seemed like fair game. Apparently even the singer was on the menu: she had been stripped topless, and her pale, perky tits were splattered with the seed of half a dozen different men. Every time she finished a song someone new would lurch up onto the stage, eagerly fuck her face, and then spray his offering on top of the others. Thankfully she seemed to be enjoying herself.
The dense layer of lotus smoke hanging in the air was far less surprising. The vast majority of strains weren’t any more intoxicating than ale or mead, but over the years the Brotherhood had found plenty of ways to increase the addictive potency, often through magical manipulation. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if Sobren himself had invented the process.
Jorem made it a point to schmooze with several of the other guests near the entrance. Most of them knew him by reputation if not by name, and they were all surprised by his youthful appearance. Apparently he had run enough errands for the cartel that they all assumed he was ten years older. Personally, I was far more impressed by his poise—I could feel his heart pounding whenever he approached a new underboss, but somehow he always kept his expression and body language firmly under control.
Further proof I picked the right man for the job.
I tried to remain as quiet and demure as possible, but the men here didn’t make it easy. Every single one of them grabbed my ass and ran his hand up my thigh, and a few were bold enough to squeeze my breasts. One seemed to think he could bend me over a table and fuck my ass right then and there, but Jorem deftly shifted the conversation before I had to break the man’s arm.
He eventually led me over to an empty table in a dark corner and gestured for me to take a seat. “This might have been easier if you’d pretended to be a mercenary,” he grumbled as he took a quick sip from his wine. “That dress is drawing too much attention.”
I grinned and crossed my legs. “You like what you see?”
“It’s not about me,” he insisted even though he seemed completely unable to take his eyes off my dangling heels. “The more people scrutinize us, the more likely they’ll realize something is wrong.”
“No one has doubted my disguise yet.”
“That doesn’t mean they never will.” He pursed his lips. “How in the bloody hell can you walk on those things, anyway?”
“Practice,” I said, stretching out my toe so he could get a long look at my slender calves. “They’re more comfortable than you think.”
I let him stew for a minute, keenly aware of how closely we were being watched. My fake elven ears were the only reason the other men were keeping their distance—they knew that Jorem would be offering me up as a prize to their boss. But eventually their lust would overcome their good sense, and one of them would stumble over and offer me a “job” at a brothel they owned.
“You never asked directly about Sobren, and I still don’t see him anywhere,” I commented.
“There’s nothing gangsters love more than being fashionably late to their own parties,” Jorem said. “He’s probably nearby; he might even be in one of the back rooms making an early deal with someone. But I’m sure he’ll make an appearance eventually.”
I nodded distantly. As entertaining as it was to be the center of attention, I couldn’t afford to forget that I was on a mission here. One of the most dangerous men in the Northern Reaches was nearby, and I was the only one capable of ending his reign of terror for good. Fun would have to wait.
“It will be more difficult to confront him here surrounded by so many people,” I said, habitually mapping out a plan of attack. Even if I’d had all my weapons, our odds here wouldn’t have been good. “If you think he’s hiding in the back rooms, we should confront him there.”
Jorem turned and looked at me like I was mad. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“Plans change,” I countered, standing and taking his arm again. “His men will think you’re offering me up to him in private. I doubt they’ll give us any trouble.”
“What if they do?” he asked pointedly. “I still don’t think you appreciate the type of person he hires to protect him. His personal bodyguards will make those men outside look like schoolgirls.”
“I can handle them,” I promised. “Don’t worry.”
Jorem sighed, and I could feel the nervous flutter of his heart. “Sobren might not even be here. There’s no way to know without—”
“He’s here,” I said. “Now come on. It’s time to fulfill your end of the bargain.”
Jorem hesitated, and for a fraction of a second I wondered if he might try something unbelievably stupid in a last ditch attempt to back out of our deal. But then he abruptly nodded, took a deep breath, and escorted me towards the back room behind the stage and gambling tables.
“Where do you think you’re going, kid?” one of other brutes standing near the door called out when we got too close.
“I’m delivering a present to the boss,” Jorem said, running his hand along my cheek again. “I’d let you try her out, but I doubt he’d approve.”
The brute snorted. He was every bit as burly as the men in front—I honestly wondered if Sobren had discovered a way to magically copy his favorite goons over and over.
“You can wait,” the man growled. “The boss will be here soon.”
Jorem smiled tightly, and I felt his blood pump faster as he reached out to the Aether. My hunger flared up in response. For a Senosi, standing next to an active channeler was like forcing a starving man to smell freshly-baked bread. My mouth watered, and I had to consciously hold myself back…
“He’ll be happy to see me, I promise,” Jorem said as he wove his charm spell. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll let you have some fun with her once he’s finished.”
The thug blinked a few times before he flashed me a disgusting, mostly toothless smile. “Go on,” he said, grabbing a handful of my flesh as we walked past.
“Nice work,” I said once we were alone. “Though you just proved why people with your powers can’t be allowed to roam free.”
“Next time I’ll just hand you over to him and run the other way,” Jorem grumbled. “I figured you’d want to get in here without making a scene. The closer we get to Sobren before every
thing goes to shit, the better.”
I could feel the tension building in his muscles, and I found myself wanting to assuage his fears somehow. I didn’t understand the impulse. I had never been fond of coddling anyone, not even my Senosi sisters. So why in the abyss did I feel compelled to soothe a sorcerer?
“Just hang back and stay calm,” I told him, plucking the tiny charged vatari crystal from my necklace and crushing it in my palm. The trapped Aetheric energy flowed through me, and the entire world suddenly seemed like it was moving in slow motion. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Taking a deep breath, I pulled one of the needles from my hair and concealed the sharp tip in my palm just before we approached a large metal door at the end of an otherwise empty corridor. The two men standing outside weren’t dressed for the party—they were clad head-to-toe in thick plate armor, and they pointed their halberds at us the instant we approached the door.
“Who the bloody hell let you back here?” one of them growled.
“We have an appointment with your boss,” I said, smiling and uncurling my arm from Jorem. “I’m supposed to entertain him before the party.”
The man snorted. “He has plenty of entertainment already.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, inching forward another step until Jorem was behind me. “I guess I’ll have to entertain the two of you instead.”
I moved. I slipped inside the first man’s guard before he realized what was happening, and I drove the concealed needle in my palm into the narrow gap between his armor and gorget. A crimson geyser erupted from his throat, but I was already spinning away before he could clutch at the wound.
His partner was faster—the man managed to ready his halberd and jab at me with the spike crowning the blade. My Senosi reflexes were more than a match for even the quickest human, however, especially since I had just fed. I dodged his attack, lunged inside his guard, and jabbed the needle through the visor of his helmet. His horrified shrieks were so loud that everyone in the party probably heard him, but we were past the point of subtlety. Sobren Lecasi was just beyond this door, and nothing in the multiverse would keep me from my prey.
