by H. M. Ward
Carina’s was a brothel that sprang up after the war, and there wasn’t anyone who wanted to shut it down. Places like it kept the streets safer at night, and made sure those who had a taste for pain weren’t out stalking helpless prey. They gravitated toward one of the brothels instead, and Carina’s was the largest and the most accepting of their needs.
Pain seared through Eric’s body, blistering under his skin. His fists clenched tightly, and he knew that it would ease soon. Pushing through a door that lie in the debris as though it fell from the sky, Eric passed through and moved underground, emerging in a long dark hallway. He edged forward in complete darkness until he came to a cellar door and rapped his knuckles on it.
The door cracked open flooding the alcove where Eric stood with smoke and music. A large man with tanned skin and dark eyes looked at him, saying quickly, “She won’t have you here again. Not after last time.” He pulled the door open and Eric walked through. Carina’s was filled with the scent of blood… and sex. He nodded at the man, letting him know he heard his warning.
The room was vast, filled with people sitting on chairs, leaning on tables. Music wafted through the air, playing some tune from long ago. No one seemed to notice that the décor was ancient, like a mid-nineteenth century whore-house with flocked velvet wall paper the color of dried blood. Long drapes stretch from the floor to ceiling, and thick tassels covered everything with ornate fringe. The fringe was on the couches and the uniforms—if you could call a corset and a barely-there panty a uniform.
It was stiflingly hot. Smoke clung to the dark ceiling in a hazy cloud.
Eric approached the long bar that ran the length of the room. Behind it were mirrors that stretched high making the room appear twice as large. Gas lamps flickered dimly. A girl in a corset moved with ease over the lap of the man next to him. At one time, that would have been enough. But not now. Eric needed so much more. It had grown into a necessity, coming here, to this place where screams rang out and pain was lost in pleasure. This was part of the reason he couldn’t stand the sight of himself anymore. He knew how far he’d pushed the girl last time he was here, and the warning at the door let him know it was too far. There was a twisting in his gut, but he needed more. Convincing Carina to give him another girl was going to be difficult, but necessary. For some reason, this place had not attracted Ivy’s attention, and he needed to keep things that way for a while longer.
Eric felt Carina’s eyes on his back before he saw her approach him. Her gnarled finger was in his face before he could turn around. “NO!” she was shouting in Italian, “There is no room for you here. Even we have limits.” Her hair was plaited down her back in a long blonde rope. A blood-red corset pulled her waist in while it pushed the swells of her breasts up high. Every woman who worked for her wore the same corset, a scrap of fabric that barely covered anything below the waist, and a sheer black robe over it.
Eric’s eyes didn’t leave hers. He knew she was a Valefar, he’d seen her stealing souls once when she’d gotten sloppy and drained a Martis. Their souls had lingering effects that made overindulged Valefar chatty. That night Eric put a shroud on her mind. It made her unable to recall him, his face, his voice, if another Valefar asked about him. It protected him, and made sure no one hunting him would find him here.
“Carina,” he purred, leaning back against the bar, stretching out his perfect body, “if Jocelyn doesn’t want to play tonight, give me someone bolder.” His posture was confident. He knew what happened to the girl before Carina answered. Going too far in a place like this only had one meaning.
Her dark eyes widened, her face pinched, “Jocelyn is dead! You went too far last time you were here! None of my girls consent to anything without my approval now. It’s your own damn fault, Eric.”
Eric’s arms folded over his chest. If it came down to it, he could kill the old woman, but he didn’t want to tip his hand. She didn’t know what he was capable of. She still thought he was mortal. The incantation he had used addled her mind and made it harder for her to realize that he was an immortal, like her. And no other Valefar could wield such magic to make vast quantities of riches the way he could.
Nodding at her, Eric withdrew a large wad of cash from his pocket. “I’ll pay triple. Give me your best girl, you set the rules, you leave the instruments.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed on the cash. Natalia was right. People were growing more worried and those who had money had power. Greed overcame Carina’s sensibility. If she was going to lose another girl, it had to be worth the price. Eric was ruthless. When she found Jocelyn’s body the next morning, she couldn’t believe what he’d done to her. But Valefar have no grief, just shock. She was shocked to find someone who was more twisted than she, and it drew her to Eric, making her lust after him when she knew she shouldn’t.
Carina shook her head, demanding, “Pay ten times higher, if you want my best girl. I will not have you destroying what I took so long to refine. Do you have any idea how long it takes one of these girls to recover from what you do to them? It’s been months since you were here last and it’s taken that long to replace Jocelyn. I won’t have you do that to me again. That’s the price. Pay it or get out.” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she watched Eric, expecting him to leave. Asking ten times the normal rate was the equivalent to asking for a house. A night with one of her girls wasn’t cheap. It took too much time to teach them to endure the acts done to them. Her patrons paid in full, for the entire evening before ever stepping foot into a room.
Eric’s lips formed a thin line as she spoke. Jocelyn was a mistake. He thought she could handle it, she’d told him that she could. He remembered her wide brown eyes filled with fear. When he left, she was alive and breathing. This was the first time his heinous acts killed one of her girls. The guard at the door eyed him, waiting to see what he would do. Around him, Eric could feel the divine screams transpiring down the hall, behind locked doors. It was the way things were. The girls were trained to be able to bear an incredible amount of pain, for which they were well paid. It was more than trading sex for cash, it was flesh for gold. Every last piece of that girl would be his to do with as he pleased until morning. It made surviving the nights more bearable. It gave him the control he needed.
Eric glanced to the side, eyeing the corseted girl’s moving through the room. “Which one?” he asked.
Carina shook her head, “No games, Eric. You’re in or out. And you can only use this,” she held out a small silver tack. He took it, rolling the small pointy thing between his fingers and looked up at her like she was crazy.
“You can’t expect…” but she cut him off.
“I do! And you will. If you want to stay and play at my house, you follow my rules. This is your only instrument, so you won’t kill this one.” Eric looked up at her, her eyes were flaming fury, “You expect me to lock her in a room with you with anything more? After last time? No. This is it. That’s all you get,” she snapped. “Make a decision. It’s this or nothing.”
The room was crowded. Patrons lined the walls and filled every chair. Carina was a business woman and Eric knew this was a transaction that she didn’t want to make. The smart thing would have been to walk away, but Eric was so overwrought with pain that he couldn’t think. It seemed to be getting worse, and he didn’t know why. Every part of him ached. Nothing sated him anymore, only this. Only sex and blood. He could have pulled a girl off the street and forced himself on her, but Eric didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Here, in this place, he could do what he wanted, take what he needed, and be gone. Ivy could not find him.
Eric glanced at her with narrowed eyes, “Fine,” he growled, taking more money from his pocket and thrusting it at her. Before she could say anything else, he added, “And it’s enough for two girls. I’m paying ahead for next time. Same rate, Carina. And if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll take you.”
The woman laughed like he was flattering her. She snapped her fingers after taking Eric’s money
, smiling at him like he was a thoughtful boy. “Take me? How sweet. Tell me, Mr… Are you ever going to tell us your last name?” There was a playful smile on her face, her hip cocked out to the side as she looked down at him. She couldn’t remember why she didn’t know his full name, why she hadn’t insisted when it was a normal part of the transaction. But she didn’t feel the need to know, and he’d never told her.
Eric shook his head, arms folded across his chest, “No.”
Carina couldn’t sense that Eric had placed a spell on her. It was so minor that she couldn’t tell it was there at all. Certain things about him just felt forgotten, and she didn’t mind. Like his name.
Carina rolled her eyes, “Sasha will be your consort tonight.” She turned to the barkeeper and nodded. The man tossed her a golden key with a plaque hanging off of a red tassel. “Room three. She’s already in there, waiting like usual.” Eric’s eyes watched her as she turned away, his gaze falling to her bare hips as she walked away to help another patron.
Eric passed through the crowded room quickly, navigating his way around throngs of people. A guard stood blocking his way to a hall with golden numbers on the doors. Eric showed his key, and was promptly stripped of his shirt and shoes. They patted him down, removing all his weapons so that the only thing he had left was his tack. When they were done, the guards stood aside and let him pass.
The hallway appeared to go on and on forever, with an infinite number of rooms for an infinitely perverse population. Each side of the hall was lined with doors, each door boasting a golden number. He knew what he’d find on the other side: A corseted woman, chained in the room and the only instrument he was permitted to use on her was the push pin in his hand. Fuck. He wanted a knife, but that was what he used last time. What the hell could he do with a pin?
As Eric padded down the hall he noticed the wallpaper was the color of dried blood. Part of him thought that Carina did that on purpose. She had a nasty sense of humor, which would be expected since she owned a place like this. After the war, people had seen things they didn’t know how to deal with. Some couldn’t. Some sick bastards just needed to feel warm blood sliding over their skin. It became normal at some point, like it was normal to him. The blood and pain was robbing him of who he was, but he couldn’t stop. He needed it. He needed the girl on the other side of the door to scream out. He needed to feel her blood on his hands and see the fear in her eyes. Eric passed door number one. He could hear faint screams from the other side. Closing his eyes, he savored the little release it gave him. The second door was silent, but as Eric approached door three, he could feel the fear crash into him, setting his groin on fire. She must be gagged, he thought as he passed the door and stopped in front of number three.
As Eric slid the key into the lock, a moment of foreboding passed over him. He didn’t want to do this. He never wanted to do this, but it was the only thing that helped anymore. And the girl on the other side of the door signed up to be here. He didn’t want to think of the reasons why. It would make his justification for what he was about to do disappear. He pressed his eyes closed and leaned his head on the door.
A voice cut through the hall. Carina said, “Blood is mercy, Eric. It’s your vice. So what? There are worse things.” When he lifted his head to look at her, he knew she didn’t understand. She was Valefar, and soulless. Of course she thought tormenting someone was harmless. But he felt it, every time, destroying his soul piece by piece. It was like he was trading pain for peace, but in the end, he’d lose both. Carina was coldhearted, and didn’t understand. This flash of reluctance made her think he was mortal, and helped hide his true nature, but it made him feel weak. When he was a Valefar, he would have done this without a second thought. He’d wanted to do it to Ivy—he’d threatened her so many times.
He nodded at Carina, his hand on the knob, “Yes, there are,” he agreed. Her blood red lips pulled into a smile as he turned his back and disappeared into the room.
CHAPTER SIX
Her breathing increased when he walked in. He stood at the door with his back to her, his hands gently pushing the door closed and lowering the bar. Sliding the golden key in place, he sealed them in, and extracted the key. Shirtless and feeling overly exposed, he turned to face the room to see what Carina had given him.
The girls weren’t real, he couldn’t think of them that way or he couldn’t do this. They were things, possessions. They belonged to Carina and chose this willingly. The thoughts ran though his mind several times. As he moved slowly across the room, he heard the chains rattle in the corner. It was pitch black, but he could make out her corseted figure, chained to the wall, facing away from him. Long waves of dark hair trailed down her back. Two smooth round mounds of ass could be seen through the robe. The girl didn’t move, but he could sense her heart beating rapidly. He wondered how many times she did this, and what she had to go through to be able to endure him.
Eric stopped at the massive bed in the middle of the room. It had a black iron headboard with more chains and cuffs attached to it. The bedroom walls were black, flocked velvet. Ornate moldings lined the room. Combined with the dark furniture, it look like he was in another time. Eric wonder briefly if that was where Carina was when she was turned Valefar. The styles, the things of the age when one becomes immortal are remembered most vividly, while the memory of other things—important things—fade away.
Eric didn’t speak. His senses were in hyper-drive, wavering between doing what he wanted and what he needed. The girl faced the wall, not moving, not peering over her shoulder to see him. Her arms were chained above her head and he knew the muscles were burning. She’d been there too long, waiting for someone less ruthless than he was. Jocelyn seemed to realize it was Eric when he showed up. The moment he walked through the door, she knew to be more afraid than with the others. She knew how twisted he was, the level of pain he needed to feel sated—at least for the moment. This girl didn’t know him. She remained still, the sound of her heart beating steadily without fear.
Moving past the nightstand, Eric left his jeans on and walked slowly toward his victim. Without a sound, he stood behind her. An involuntary shiver raked her body. A small sound, the rush of air, came out when his hand cupped her bare ass. He liked the G-string on her. It gave him access to her flesh, without making her strip, yet. This teasing, making her wait, should increase her apprehension, but the girl’s heart pounded the same. Eric slid his hand over her smooth skin, withdrew it, and then hit her hard.
The sting nearly made her cry out, but she bit her tongue. The girl pressed her head to the wall, trying to ignore the disturbing sensations that were crawling out of her stomach and tightening in her throat. Breathe, she thought to herself, Don’t speak.
Eric leaned his toned body against her, pressing her to the wall. She was holding her breath, trying to remain silent. Eric pressed his finger to her face, trailing it down her neck before breathing in her ear, “I want you to cry, Sasha. I want to feel your body shake as you scream when I’m with you.” For Eric, it was part of the game and a part that he couldn’t do without. When he was here, this girl would do what he said.
Natalia blanched when she heard it—his voice. Eric. For half a heartbeat, she told herself that she could do it, that he was the same as the rest. But her mind protested the thought of Eric’s hands sliding down her skin, feeling her in a way that made her hot all over. He was attractive, and she wanted him—and completely hated herself for it. There was no relationship with Eric. Everything was fake. Every piece was staged, an act that went on and on. This wasn’t part of it. There was no way she could do this to him, and this wasn’t the way she wanted revenge.
Eric slid his hand between her legs and she sighed, wanting him there. Every bit of her being wanted him. Anger coursed through her. Why? Why did he make her feel like this?
Eric didn’t know what changed, but he sensed it. Something he said made her angry, but his mind was too slow. He didn’t see it coming. Before he knew what happe
ned, the girl bucked backward, knocking him away. Caught by surprise, Eric staggered back a step. Natalia’s leg swung out, chains attached, and kicked him away. Aroused, he jumped back to his feet. None of Carina’s girls had ever fought back before. It went against the owner’s rules, but he liked it all the same.
Eric lunged for her, grabbing her long dark hair, yanking it back hard, exposing her neck to him. Her breasts swelled at the top of her corset, distracting him from her face. It wasn’t until she said his name that he stopped, that he realized who he was hurting. It felt like a cloud lifted and he could see her. He knew her.
“Eric! Don’t!” Wide blue eyes were locked on his face, searching for recognition, knowing his name would break the power that masked her from him. If she remained silent, he could have been with her and not realized it was Natalia. But she spoke. She defied Carina, because she couldn’t stand the idea of being with Eric. Her body longed for his and she hated herself for it. What kind of assassin does that? “Eric,” she snapped his name again, and it was like someone hit him in the face.
Eric dropped his hold on the girl. His eyes narrowed in on the side of her face. She was still chained to the wall, hands above her head, ankles shackled. His heart was racing like it would explode. Was that who he thought it was? It couldn’t be. He brushed back the curtain of dark hair that hid her face.
“Natalia,” he breathed, shocked. Anger flashed through him and he stepped away from her like she was poison. Why didn’t he recognize her? He was staring at her, but he didn’t really see her until she spoke.
Natalia was livid, trying to twist around to yell at him. Lies were rapidly forming in her mind. She broke the trance, and had to give a reason for her presence—one he could believe. “Eric! This is going to completely screw me! Do you know how long it took to get her to let me do this? And you! She gives me you!” Natalia pulled on the chains, her long hair tangling in the silver. Her body stilled. She took a deep breath through her crimson lips. Make-up stained her face, making her nearly unrecognizable.
