“Authority, don’t forget.” He slammed the door.
My appointment was set to arrive in less than half an hour. I didn’t much worry about the time, though. There was very little clothing to change into. I bathed and scented my body with oils I knew my client would like, then dressed in Gorge’s clothes, not at all convinced this would work. The rest of the outfit Gorge had given me consisted mostly of well-made costume jewelry. I wore my own trousers, ones that Shani picked out. They were tight, nearly to the point of uncomfortable. Gorge’s contribution, however, was a silk shirt of royal purple, though calling it a shirt was generous. It was mainly sleeves with a button-less open front. The result left my chest and abdomen exposed down to my belt, which rode low about my hips. Around my neck hung the first piece of jewelry. It was comprised of a thick golden rope and displayed a vulgar copy of the King’s Crest, a war bird, only this one was crouched over a large phallus. The message it conveyed was not lost on me in this game I found myself in. The second piece of jewelry was a thin crown which, for being costume jewelry, was fairly well made.
The best entrance I could make would be from the kitchens. There was a long hallway and a turn to enter the salon facing the front door. I had made it nearly to the turn when I was accosted from the side by a dark, shadowy form.
“Oni?” I gasped.
She had her hands on my shoulders, pushing me against the wall. She held me at arm’s length and looked me up and down. “You know you are just making this harder on yourself, yes Evan?” she purred.
I surged forward, lifting Oni as I went, and we hit the opposite wall of the passage. My body pressed against hers, and I felt her legs tighten around my waist. One hand glided along her leg, under the silky wrap she wore on the salon floor, and squeezed her backside. With the other, I turned her head away. Her eyes closed, and her breath shallow, I leaned against her and trailed kisses up her neck until my mouth was right next to her ear. When I spoke, my breath was ragged and my voice rasped.
“I tire of your empty promises, Oni,” I sang low in her ear. “It’s time to pay up or shut up.”
I sat her down and backed slowly away. She wobbled but remained upright.
“Oh. You such the bastard,” she said. Her Mylean accent was much thicker than normal.
“You started it,” I said with a broad grin.
“I have to get cleaned up again. My client is here now. I can’t let them see me like…this.” She motioned to herself as she backed the way I had come, glaring the entire way.
“Empty promises, Oni.” I shook my head in disappointment.
Oni collected herself, then turned and stomped for the back stairs.
I entered the salon to see my client standing at the bar, sipping wine and chatting with Elsbeth.
“Palasia, my dear. I am so glad you have returned. I feared you would not.”
The Mata’s Bulldog wore a shimmering silver gown that covered one shoulder, held with a brooch that depicted an eagle, talons extended. It clutched an arrow that pinned the entire ensemble in place. She wore her hair in a loose plait that narrowed to a curly tip at the small of her back and jewels that rivaled anything the Arulean Empire had to offer. It was her smile, however, that had halted me dead in my tracks.
“My gods, Palasia, you look ravishing.” The Terror of Jerea, the one sent to bully the Mata’s friends and enemies alike into submission, blushed. “And your hair, it suits you perfectly.”
She pulled the long plait over her shoulder and grinned wickedly. “Well, it rather got in the way last time I was here. I thought I had better take it in hand.”
I leaned in, placed a kiss on her cheek, and whispered, “I will be certain to take it in hand later.”
She nuzzled the side of my face. She was far from the stern-faced woman that had slapped me a few nights ago.
I looked upon her lively face, and as she opened her mouth to speak, the entire room suddenly went silent.
Her eyes darted toward the door, and her countenance fell when a burly man in a guard’s uniform entered the room followed by a singularly gorgeous viper.
Her wavy dark hair was piled atop her head with a few strands strategically loosed down the sides of her face. They framed her elegant jawline and drew attention to her intense green eyes. She wore a satin sapphire dress with a slit that revealed a generous amount of pale thigh. Her shoes dripped with the velvety blue gems, as did her neck, wrists, and ears. The look lent her an air of glamor that she owned completely. Every eye in the place was on her…just as she deserved.
Damn.
“Mata,” Palasia hissed.
“So it seems,” I said. “Shall we greet her?”
Palasia looked flustered, almost panicked. “But—”
I caressed her cheek with the back of my hand and whispered, “Trust me, love.”
Palasia pouted but took my hand and I turned to Elsbeth.
“Beth, something strong and tasty, please. Work your magic,” I said as I watched the guard survey the room before his charge entered fully.
The Mata strutted into the salon of The Velvet Pearl, confident that she owned the place. With Nan’s newly gathered intelligence fresh in my mind, I had come to a few conclusions. First off, the Mata was constantly in control. She needed to be in control because the people around her would not, could not, perform their tasks adequately without a firm hand. Being a woman in her position meant that she needed to be strong, but strong did not have to mean unilaterally harsh. One careful look at any of the women here at The Pearl would tell the truth of that. Women who believed themselves strong because they were rude were nothing more than bullies. They were men in dresses, and they did not wear them nearly as well as Gorge.
There was a caveat to that, however. That harshness was often necessary in order for them to survive, let alone thrive in a world where men ruled nearly every aspect of society—and Arul was even worse. I thought it a shame. Feminine strength was damned sexy, and I had to admit the Mata wore it well.
I stalked toward the beautiful woman, Palasia’s hand in mine, until I stood only a few feet from the most powerful woman in the city.
“I would offer you a drink,” I said in greeting, then held up my hands, glass in one and Palasia’s long delicate fingers in the other, “but my hands are rather full.” I took a long drink from the glass that Elsbeth had crafted. It was whiskey, muddled with a sour fruit and mint. It was delicious.
Palasia gave the Mata a smile that did not reach her eyes.
“I see you have taken to petting my hound,” the Mata said with a disapproving eye at Palasia.
“Hound?” I queried. “Oh, she growls and bites on occasion, do not doubt that,” I said. “But she wags her tail most pleasingly when you scratch her just so.” I raised a finger from my glass and flexed it suggestively. Palasia blushed, and I loosed the binds on my Aspect. Lust and hunger for the hunt washed over the Mata as I flashed a wickedly salacious smile. Palasia staggered backward and fell into a sofa. The Mata glared in jealousy when I handed Palasia my glass. She took a drink, then studied it approvingly.
“Is that so?” the Mata asked.
“It is,” I replied. “You, on the other hand…” I took an aggressive step toward the Mata, and her guard, unable or unwilling to draw his sword in the confines of the brothel, pulled his dagger and made to stand between me and the Mata.
It was a purely defensive move. I knew that. I had planned it. If there is one thing I know, it is soldiers. I had maneuvered him into this position. He had to defend her against me, or so he thought. But I needed to make a point. I needed to show the Mata that, unlike everyone else in the city, I didn’t fear her—I didn’t fear her, I didn’t fear her guards, I didn’t give a shit. My Aspect was leaking through, and it filled me as much as it poured over her and those around us. I was charged for battle. If it was with the guard, knives flailing, or with his charge beneath the sheets, it didn’t matter to me one whit. A fight was a fight, and I was all in.
I grabbed his wrist and used my Aspect bolstered strength to twist his arm and relieve him of his weapon. I spun the other direction and drove my foot behind his knee, forcing him into a painful crouch. I stood close to him, my chest pressed against his back, preventing him from rising, as he had no leverage with which to work.
It was a brilliant move, and I decided if I ever saw Master Donovan again, I would kiss him on his mouth. I’d tried this once on an old girlfriend, thinking I could cop a free feel during a training fight and she head butted me in the kittens. I was betting this guard wasn’t quite as savvy, or at least not as malicious as Ivey. As it was, he was…distracted. I had the tip of his dagger pressed under his chin. He had one hand on my wrist, trying to force my—well his—blade away, and the other wrapped around the blade itself. The guard was no amateur. He had done his diligence. The blade was sharp and bit through his glove easily. A thin line of blood dripped from his fingers, then between his knees and puddled on the floor.
With my draw, however, he was no match for my strength, though I had to put some effort into not allowing my eyes to silver. That would reveal that I was a Guardian and undermine the effect I sought.
“If you wish to bring your pets inside, Mata, you really should keep them on a leash,” I said with disappointment.
“You dare threaten the Jerean Guard?” the Mata said casually. “The elite of Trulari forces?”
“If you say so.” I shrugged. The guard took offense to that and struggled in earnest. It did him little good. I removed one hand, the other still trying to stab him in the throat, and I smacked the side of his face with a crack that made Palasia jump. “Behave, you,” I threatened, not taking my eyes from the Mata.
The Mata had a haughty look about her. It seemed to me she was convinced that her guard would prevail. He would not.
I grabbed his chin and forced his head up. It revealed more of his throat to the blade, which caused him to pull harder, the edge digging into his hand even deeper. “Tell me, Elite Jerean Warrior of Unmatched Skill, is not your mistress lovely tonight?”
The guard struggled with all his might now. I tugged on the knife, which bit deeper into his skin and slapped him again.
“Tell her she looks lovely tonight, guard,” I said.
Her brow quirked…as did the one corner of her mouth.
He tried to move his head, but my hand on his chin prevented him from looking anywhere except where I pointed him. “Tell her,” I said more testily. I punctuated my command by pulling on the dagger at his throat until he did as I bade him.
“The Mata…looks lovely…tonight,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Good boy,” I released his chin and patted him on the cheek. All the while, I held eye contact with the Mata. “Now tell her to raise her dress.”
I felt him gulp against the knife blade even as the Mata leaned forward. Her intense green eyes narrowed in warning to her guard as though daring him to comply.
I leaned down and whispered loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “If you live through the night, I will tell you what’s under there.”
The Mata’s face and neck glowed livid red with anger, but it was she who broke eye contact. She looked over my shoulder and spoke directly to Nan.
“I will take this one upstairs, proprietor,” the Mata said. “He is at least interesting.”
“No,” I said before Nan could even open her mouth.
The entire room gasped.
“Excuse me?” the Mata said. Her eyes turned hard as flint as she gaped at me in disbelief for having refused her.
I wondered, briefly, if I were the only one to ever do so.
She balled her fists and visibly restrained herself. For the briefest moment, I thought she would attack me. I had to admit, that was alluring. I mentally shook off the thoughts. I had to remain on task if I were to see this through.
“I said no. My services are by introduction only, and we have not been introduced.”
“I know your name,” she spat with barely controlled fury.
“But we haven’t been introduced,” I said. “That simply will not do. Besides, my card is full tonight.” Palasia grinned all over herself. I had not forgotten that Nan’s intelligence also revealed that Palasia had always played second to the Mata. She lost her lover to her. She lost her power to her. She gained little where the Mata gained much. I was the weight she would use to right the scales. It would begin tonight.
“How about this,” I said. In reparation for my full schedule tonight, I will make for you a gift. I won’t take you upstairs, though. Rules are rules.”
“What gift is that?” she asked. A look of doubt passed over her face, as though she thought it impossible I could possess anything worthy to gift to one such as her.
I made a small show of effort and pulled the dagger a fraction deeper into the guard’s throat. It was just enough to make him panic and squirm.
Now was the moment of my big play. I hoped and prayed that Nan’s information was correct, because if it wasn’t, not only was this whole thing for naught, it would likely end with The Pearl in flames. I had to shock her. I had to make her think I knew everything about her. She had to wonder about me…fear me for what I could manage that so many others could not.
“I will allow you to decide.” I paused. I was probably overplaying it, or perhaps it was my self-doubt that fed my fear of failure. The room, however, buzzed with pent up energy. All present seemed to lean forward in anticipation of my next words.
I pressed on. Whether I failed or succeeded, this would be spectacular.
“When I kill this man,” I said, “do you want him to scream my name, or yours, Galateia?”
Everything...in the room...stopped.
I met her shocked emerald-green eyes and didn’t blink. I shifted the bindings on my Aspect and sent a blast of predatory challenge. I dared her.
I waited five heartbeats, then shoved her guard to the floor. He remained there gasping, too exhausted to retaliate.
“We have dallied long enough, and I have delicate matters to attend to.” I nodded toward Palasia who nearly stifled a giggle.
The Mata spat venom when she gained enough control of her rage to speak.
“How dare you!” she snarled. “Have you no idea who I am? What I can do to you?”
My Aspect was affecting me as much as it was her, and I was feeling brash. I stepped over her guard and leaned in. My nose brushed her jaw just below her ear and I inhaled deeply. Her scent was rich and floral. I detected a hint of rose and….vanilla?
Lilac, I thought. Delicious.
“You don’t care about doing anything to me,” I whispered in her ear. “You want to know what I can do to you. That is why you are here, isn’t it? Well, go home and think about that. When you come back, bring a better attitude…but wear that scent. It will be your only garment.”
The Mata growled, and stomped her guard’s hand with the long, thin heel of one sapphire-jeweled shoe, spun, and stormed toward the front doors.
“I will have my introduction,” she screamed. “And you will pay for your insolence.” Her guard leapt up and followed as quickly as he could, holding his wounded hand to his chest. The Mata didn’t wait for him and flung open the door hard enough that it slammed against the wall.
“What have you done, Evan?” Oni asked in real fear.
I shrugged. “She’ll be back.”
“With soldiers,” cried Jhonna. I waved her concern away.
“Nothing to be concerned about,” I said. “Just a bit of foreplay. Speaking of which…Come, Palasia.” I held out my hand, and Palasia’s soft fingers found mine. I stared into her eyes longingly as she rose. “Let us finish what we started. I have been dreaming of you all day.”
Palasia smiled victoriously. The rest of the room still hadn’t breathed.
We started for the grand staircase leading to the rooms above.
Gorge caught my eye and gave me a wicked grin and a little clap as he mouthed, “F
lawless.”
I smiled at him.
I led Palasia to my room, and no sooner had the door closed than she was climbing me. She kissed me hungrily as I staggered inside, carrying her. We were both laughing by the time I set her down and looked into her dark eyes.
“What brought this on?” I asked.
“I can’t believe you did that. Dismissed the Mata? For me?” She laughed again, a bit of mania showing through her normally controlled visage.
“She was being a bully.” I said.
“She is a bully,” Palasia said. “And you have painted a target on my back. She will think you chose me over her.”
“I did.” I pulled the arrow from the talons of her eagle brooch, and her dress collapsed in a pile about her feet. She tore frantically at my shirt as I scooped her up and carried her toward my bed.
In the small hours, before the lightening of the sky announced the coming of the new day, we laid recovering on sweat-damp sheets. The room was filled with the musk of our passion and Palasia, despite me having her fullest attention only moments ago, seemed distracted.
“What is it, love?” I asked. “What troubles you?”
“She will come for me,” she said. “But I don’t care anymore. That bitch has taken everything that was rightfully mine. The Jardir, the title of Mata, power, gold…friends. She has alienated me to the point that I need her to keep what status I have, and even then it is a tribute to her.”
I hugged her close, hoping to comfort her.
“The Mata’s Bulldog.” she spat. “I haven’t even my own name. I am just her dog.”
“If it is any consolation, I have also heard you called the ‘Terror of Jerea.’”
She scowled. “The entire phrase is ‘The Terror of Jerea is the Storm before the Eye.’”
Ouch. It was no wonder she hated the Mata so. I traced a finger between her shoulder blades as she lay draped across me. She began to shift and squirm, and I placed my palm flat and increased the pressure so as to not incite her toward a more intimate reaction. “Tell me of the Jardir,” I said. “You said she took him from you?”
Oathbound: The Emperor's Conscience, Book 2 Page 12
