“And let me guess. You don’t want to lose your cut.” She tsked. “I thought you had more sense than this, Orius. Is whatever you’re skimming off the back of one little whore really worth breaking the arrangement we have?”
“You’re breaking it, not me. I don’t interfere with your business if you don’t interfere with mine. That’s what we agreed on, ain’t it?”
“No, we agreed that I won’t crush your balls the same way I crushed your hand, and in return, you do favours for me now and then. I’m not asking for much. Just tell me where I can find Kordan. Is that so hard?"
“Fine!” he yelled, once again throwing his arms up into the air. He finished off the rest of his wine in one noisy swallow and then seeing how Sevy hadn’t even touched her glass, he grabbed it and drank that as well. “Pretty sure Naidru’s got him working the Bloody Heart tonight. Now get outta my hair, would ya?”
“The Bloody Heart?”
He nodded.
“Kordan is working the Bloody Heart?”
“That’s what I said. Need me to say it again?”
Sevy sighed through her nose and shook her head. “What in the name of Annu-nial is wrong with you, Orius? You a masochist or something?”
“What?! I ain’t no sissy boy! I’m on a strict, pussies-only diet, and I’ll gut anyone who says any different for spreading lies.”
“Just shut up, you ignorant fuckwit, you’re the only one lying here. Kordan’s not at the Heart. Vipin is a nasty bastard, but even he has limits on what he’ll do for a coin, and it’s no secret that he doesn’t want baby flesh peddled out of his tavern.”
“Nuh-uh. Vipin does what we tell him to.”
“No, he doesn’t. He tolerates you, just like I tolerate you. Fair warning though, that will change if you don’t start cooperating.”
Orius opened his mouth to respond but closed it again when his gaze shifted from Sevy to a spot just behind her. In the next second, that shit-eating grin of his had returned and grown even bigger and shittier than before.
“It’s been swell chatting with you, Sevy, but unless you’re gonna wiggle out of them clothes and start shaking that tight little ass, I think it’s time for you to go.”
Someone grabbed her by the shoulders with a pair of meaty, hairy-knuckled hands. She blinked up at the gloating face of the brute holding her down then turned to Orius again.
“Friend of yours?”
“Sevy, Naidru. Naidru, Sevy.”
Hmm, well, wasn’t this an interesting development? She twisted slightly in her seat to get another look at him. He was taller than Orius. Heavier set too. He had a mouthful of gold and dried spittle in his beard. His doublet and matching waistcoat were made of crushed green velvet but stank of cabbages and piss. Typical Elorian trash.
“So you’re Naidru, huh? We were literally just talking about you.”
“She’s after one of yours, Dru. The wee lad you finished breaking in last week.”
The grip on her shoulders tightened. “Is that so?”
“Seems you got a choice to make now, Sevy. You can forget about Kordan and be on your merry way or Dru’s gonna take you somewhere private so you can get better acquainted. Fair warning though,” Orius sneered, mockingly repeating her. “He likes it rough.”
“Good. So do I.”
She blew Orius a kiss and then, without warning, snapped her head back into Naidru’s abdomen with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs. While he doubled over wheezing, she jumped to her feet, picked up her chair, and shattered it against him. He was momentarily stunned, but another of Orius’ thugs appeared out of nowhere with a sword, so she used a chunk of the chair’s leg to block his attack. The sword got stuck halfway through the wood, and before its owner could pull it free, Sevy twisted her wrists to send both it and the chair leg sailing to the left. The man huffed in shock and frowned at his now-empty hands as if they were to blame.
“Aw, rotten luck, eh?” Sevy giggled to him. “Should’ve made certain your blade was sharp before you started swinging it around all willy-nilly.” Crouching down, she drew her dagger from its sheath on her thigh and a second dagger from her boot. “Take these beauties, for instance. See how shiny they are? Want a closer look?”
He frantically shook his head. Her giggles began to sound more like cackles as she darted forward to sink the daggers into either side of his neck. That alone was enough to kill him of course, but she stabbed him a few more times just because she could.
By now, the entire room was in chaos. Although the dancers had stampeded from the stage in a flailing mass of naked limbs and exotic veils, the whores and barmaids quickly following suit, most of their customers decided that this was the perfect opportunity to indulge in a bit of sport or settle some old grudges. Fists flew. Metal clanged. Before long, the filthy old factory floor was awash with blood and beer.
And Sevy loved every second of it.
She searched around for Orius. He was gone. But Naidru wasn’t. He was right where she’d left him, hanging onto a table to keep himself from falling over. There was vomit dribbling down the front of his waistcoat and a purple goose-egg hatching on his temple.
“Dizzy?” she asked. “Wanna lie down? Here, let me give you a hand.”
“Get away from me, you crazy bitch!”
“Well, I never! No need to be so rude. I was only trying to help because that’s what nice people do.” She took a step towards him. “And according to this girl I met earlier today, I’m nice.”
Screaming, he tried to stumble away from her but lost his balance and landed at her feet.
“I know, it surprised me too! Nice is not a word I’d use to describe myself, but maybe I just need an unbiased opinion. What do you think? Would a nice person do this?” She kicked him in the gut. “Or this?” She stomped on his throat. “Come on, don’t be shy, Naidru. You can tell me the truth. Is this nice?” She ground her heel into his cheek, watching with bird-like interest as his bones broke and his face collapsed. “Well? Is it?”
****
“Cloa? Cloa, where are you, kid?”
“I’m here, ma’am!” Cloa called, popping out from behind some barrels of trash as suddenly and as awkwardly stiff as a tin devil popping out of a music box. “I mean Sevy, not ma’am. Sorry! Wait, I forget, is it all right if I call you Sevy or…? Oh gosh, I’m talking, aren’t I? Am I supposed to be? Are the rules in effect right now? Sorry. I’ll stop. Promise.”
She was so busy tripping over her words and generally just making a fool of herself that it took a while for her to notice the pale little face peeking at her from beneath Sevy’s cloak. But when she did, she lit up with such pure, unbridled joy that Sevy forgot to be annoyed with her for the moment.
“Kordan!” she cried, racing over to wrap her brother up in a tight embrace. “You’re alive! Oh, I missed you so much, Kordan! Are you all right? Oh, you’re all bruised and stuff. Don’t worry. Don’t worry, Kordan. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. No one’s ever, ever going to hurt you again!”
Sevy hung back and quietly watched as Cloa flattened all the curls from Kordan’s hair with her tears. Kordan wasn’t crying. Wasn’t talking either. He might have been as much of a chatterbox as his sister was before they’d come to Eloria, but his time in the city had changed him.
When Sevy had found Kordan chained up in a windowless room just like the dead dog had been, she saw a familiar emptiness in his eyes. It made her ache. It made her angry. But mostly, it made her tired. She longed to crawl back to Sally’s Pub and drink herself stupid, and the next time Jarro’s coin convinced her to get involved in another mess like this, she was going to toss it off the Gerio Bridge and straight into the Elor River.
Ah, who was she kidding? She might be a monster, a bitch, and a murderer, but even she was too damned soft to do something that evil.
“All right, kids, that’s enough for now. We’re not getting any closer to Devenbourn standing around this alley.�
��
“Hear that, Kordan? We’re going home. Sevy’s gonna take us, isn’t that right, Sevy?”
Sevy shrugged. She picked some crusted blood from her sleeve and said, “You’re stuck with me ’til your parents pay up, so yeah. I’m taking you home.”
“See? You don’t gotta be scared of nothing no more,” Cloa whispered as she wrapped her arm Kordan’s shoulder and started guiding him up the street. “Sevy will protect us the whole way. She’s great at this sort of thing. That’s why I hired her. Oh, and you don’t gotta be scared of her neither. She acts tough and all, but remember Tookie, our old donkey? She’s like him. Grumpy but nice.”
“Cloa?”
“Yes, Sevy?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
THE END
The Sevy Series
THIEF
Happily ever after doesn’t come without a price
SHADES OF WAR
There is more than one road to redemption
MASQUERADE
Never trust a liar, especially when they’re telling the truth
DEVOTION
In Development
FORGET ME NOT
In Development
Other Books by this Author
FOR THE LOVE OF A WITCH
To kill a Beast, he must first unravel the mystery of a strange and savage Beauty
MY SANCTUARY
A child can’t choose its mother, but maybe a mother can choose her child
About the Author
Sarah-Jane Lehoux was a shy yet outspoken child whose irrepressible imagination often put her at odds with the world. She was never satisfied with the status quo, and now, as a writer of feminist speculative fiction, she isn’t afraid to take chances or to tackle subjects that others may avoid. Because of this, her stories have been praised for their gritty realism and psychological insights, as well as their vivid imagery and originality.
Sarah-Jane has a BA in Anthropology from Laurentian University and a diploma in Animal Care from Sheridan College. She was a bit of a nomad in her youth, moving from one Canadian city to the next, before realising she needed a slower pace of life to truly be happy. She resides in Northern Ontario with her husband, her cats, and her books and spends her time cluttering her brain with beautiful nonsense.
To learn more, please visit sarah-janelehoux.com
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