by Elena Lawson
Up close, I could see golden brown hair highlighted with lighter streaks. A splatter of freckles somehow demoted her from intimidating to approachable. She wore what appeared to be men’s breeches and a…corset? I didn’t recognize the style, but it clung to her shapely curves.
My cock instantly hardened even as unease skated down my spine.
This strange woman standing on my doorstep was an enigma, something I couldn’t entirely understand. Where did she come from? Why was she here?
I didn’t like it.
Not one fucking bit.
When it became apparent she wasn’t going to acknowledge me, I leaned in closely, my breath fanning over the back of her ear.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?”
She jumped, body twisting and eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Something akin to fear twisted her features before her eyes rolled back into her head. I saw a flash of white, her eyelids fluttering closed, before she collapsed. My arms just barely caught her in time before her head hit the stone step.
I couldn’t even begin to find a word to encapsulate how bad this was. An unwed female in our house. A barely dressed unwed female in our house. An unconscious barely dressed unwed female in our house—on our damned doorstep!
“Is she okay?” Jasper asked anxiously, running towards me. His one visible eye was wide in his face.
“Who is she, and why is she here?” I rasped, hoisting her up and maneuvering her inside and away from the prying eyes of passersby. She felt…tiny in my large arms. A part of me I couldn’t entirely understand wanted to hold her forever, protect her from the horrors that plagued this world. Another part of me couldn’t get rid of that other part fast enough.
I dropped her on the plush couch, my gentleness belying my harsh words. Her head lolled to the side, brown-blonde hair covering her pasty cheek.
My hand twitched with the effort not to brush the hair back, hook it behind her ear. My mother had hair just like that.
What was wrong with me?
Scowling, I turned towards Jasper who was tentatively standing in the doorway. When he saw my livid expression, he winced.
“I can explain. She was—” he began, but I cut him off.
“What were you thinking? Why would you bring her here? Was it to wet your dick? There’s places you can go for that that’s not our fucking home!” My voice rose to a yell by the end of my spiel, hands tightening into fists as my anger physically manifested itself. He was usually smarter than this. He had the most reason to be. By his admission not only was he outside these walls without a damned ward up to conceal him from curious eyes, but he revealed himself to a human.
And then brought this human here—to our home.
Jasper’s face turned dark. “I found her.”
“You found her?” I groused. “What, like on the street? Jasper, you need to be more careful!”
My eyes instinctively traveled around our house.
To the people in the community who knew us, we came across as strange. Different. Of course, rumors flew that we were practicing dark magic, but it was only rumors.
At least in this town.
Still, our home was full of unexplainable objects. Books on the shelf with leather binding, yellowing paper, and incantations in ancient Melîn and Emelîn. What appeared to be a chicken foot hung from a string on the ceiling. Murals depicting headless men, screaming women, and fountains of blood. A bowl containing a bright purple liquid, sparkling like thousands of stars in the candlelight—a potion Ellis had been brewing all week for a client.
“She was just in my room,” Jasper insisted tersely. His face softened as he stared at the female. “She didn’t see anything. I was careful.”
I forked my fingers through my hair. I was sure his words were meant to comfort me, yet I felt something akin to jealousy at the thought of her in his room. My reaction was completely irrational and only proceeded in making me more furious. Who was this girl? And what did she do to me?
I glanced down at her dewy features. Dark bruises marred the skin beneath her eyes. She needed more sleep, I thought grimly. Still, she appeared peaceful, almost serene, as her chest rose and fell steadily.
“So, what happened?” Jasper asked again, nodding towards her.
“She fainted.”
“Fainted?” He took a step closer, but I held up my hand to stop him. He had gotten too close to this female too quickly. It might’ve been crude thinking, but she was obviously good in bed to evoke such a strong reaction from my brother.
For a moment, we were at an impasse, both of us glaring at one another. The air around us practically crackled with fire. It was only interrupted when Ellis poked his dark head through the door.
He glanced at me first, quirking a brow, before focusing his attention on the girl.
Not him, too.
He moved quickly, a bucket of water clenched tightly in one hand and a rag in the other. Perching on the arm of the couch, he placed the rag into the water and then dabbed her sweaty forehead. While his eyes were trained on her, his head was tilted towards us.
Listening.
“I found her in the Thames,” Jasper explained almost hesitantly. “She was drowning, and I pulled her out. I didn’t know who she was or where she came from, so I took her home. What was I supposed to do? Leave her there to die? She was freezing, Everett.”
I was stunned by the animosity seeping from my brother. I had seen Jasper mad before, and I had even seen him sad. But never like this. Never this sort of quiet fury, incandescent sparks shooting from his eyes. I didn’t recognize the man before me with fisted hands and red splotches erupting on his cheeks.
That only cemented what I suspected.
A beautiful girl appearing out of nowhere? Playing the damsel in distress? Looking like sin personified?
I knew a trap when I saw one, and that woman, encompassing both sweet innocence and ethereal beauty, was the worst kind.
“Get her out of here,” I gritted out. Anger thrummed through my veins at the audacity of this female. Did she think we were stupid?
Sure, my brothers may have been thinking with their cocks, but I wasn’t them. I’d never be them.
“You can’t be serious, brother?” Jasper hissed, taking a step closer. “She’s injured, obviously more so than I thought.”
“Get. Rid. Of. Her.” I spoke slowly, enunciating each word so it’d get through that thick head of his. And not the head he was currently allowing to lead him.
A strangled gasp came from behind me, and I turned towards Ellis expectantly. His hands moved rapidly as he signed, and my anger only escalated.
“She’s sick, Everett. She needs our help.”
“Not you too.” I rubbed a hand down my face.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. All because of a beautiful, deadly female.
Was she as helpless as she appeared?
I glanced over her body, all luscious curves and sensuality, and took a deep breath.
No, she wasn’t. She was dangerous, a viper, and she already had two of my brothers under her spell. What did she want?
It didn’t matter. I shook my head. If she found out what we were, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell the authorities. But this time it wouldn’t only be Jasper on the pyre. And there wouldn’t be anyone to save us.
My anger roused something deep inside of me, the beast I wished to keep hidden, and I attempted to reign it back in. Now wasn’t the time.
It took tremendous effort, but soon I had a hold on my eccentric emotions.
I only knew one thing: the girl needed to leave. I didn’t trust her. Her appearance was too much of a coincidence. Somehow, she knew that Jasper would never be able to resist a vulnerable female. She played him as I played the strings on my violin.
My breaths sawed in and out as Ellis, of all people, brushed her hair off her cheek. Jasper hovered over her hesitantly, both of them ignoring me now that they believed they got their way.
I co
uld play along, for now, but the second she stepped out of line, I would not hesitate to do what needed to be done.
I would not hesitate to release my monster.
Chapter 7
BECK
I awoke to flame. The lumpy cushioning beneath me creaked as I made to move—to sit up. My vision swam with the movement before I regained my focus and was able to see clearly. In front of me was a large hearth, a fire burning brightly in its maw, the dancing orange flames crackling and hissing.
Despite the warmth of the room, I shivered, remembering all at once why I was seeing two antique-looking chairs in front of the fire, an old crystal decanter atop a small pedestal table between them. The painting above the fire was old, too, but it didn’t look it. In fact, it showed no signs of wear. It could have been painted only the week before.
And if that weren’t enough, the fact that the room was lit only by gas lamps and candlelight sent my mind whirring. Who the hell were these people? Some naturalists? Hippies, maybe?
I was hallucinating! That had to be it. It was that stupid drug we took. Drag.
But even then, I was doubting it. There was a crisp edge to everything I was seeing. There was none of the haze known to accompany my dreams or a good high on a hallucinogen. Everything was in too sharp of focus. Too crystal clear to be a ruse my mind concocted in a drug-induced stupor.
There had been other people here. The man with the half-face. The quiet black man who’d been down the stairs. And that other one—the large man with the thick shoulders and gruff voice. Where had they gone?
My stomach plummeted to my toes, and my spine tingled—raising the small hairs on the back of my neck.
Was I…oh god…had I been kidnapped? Were those men my captors?
The blood in my veins thickened, icing, making my heart beat harder and faster to keep it flowing out to my tingling extremities. I felt weak. When was the last time I ate? Drank?
Under normal circumstances, I could take them. Well, the first two, anyway…but not like this. Not when my hands were shaking from a lack of food and water. My bones weary and cracking from too many hours spent laying down on a hard cushion. Shit.
But at least the burning in my lungs seemed to be mostly gone.
I looked over the other side of the couch where I lay, listening carefully for any signs of life. Voices. Movement. Anything. Across the room was a small card table and a piano pushed against the far wall with a chandelier over top of it. I was alone.
Exits, I told myself, find the exits.
There were two wide doors on the right wall—both closed. And on the other wall rested a tall window, one of the wooden shutters open just a crack, allowing a sliver of moonlight to filter into the large space. That was it.
My way out.
I lurched from the couch, running on clumsy bare feet to the shutters. I cringed when the hardwood groaned beneath my weight and froze in place, gritting my teeth. Straining to hear—to make sure no one else heard the loud noise.
After a few broken breaths with no sound of pursuit, I darted for the shutters, tearing them open. I fell back at the sight before me. I hadn’t imagined it. The cobblestone streets were quiet. A horse and carriage rolled lazily on by, the hooves of the great black mare echoing against the stone. And it was dark. Darker even than that time Dad took me camping out in the woods.
It was a darkness only possible with the complete and utter absence of electricity.
No electricity in the middle of London? My mind screamed, but no sound left my lips. Impossible.
It was then that I noticed the man on the stoop outside the window. Just to my right—a few arms’ length away from me. One of his hands pressed against the wood of the door.
The door to the house where I was. My breath caught in my throat. The red-headed man regarded me as though he was seeing an apparition. Or like maybe he was the one hallucinating. I panicked.
Slamming the shutters closed, I sprinted for the doors at the other side of the room. If I was fast enough, I could make it to another exit before he got inside. Oh fuck.
Move legs! Go, go, go!
I hurdled over the couch to the door furthest from where the man would be entering the room, wincing when my ankle rolled on impact and I had to limp the rest of the way to the door. Godfuckingdamnit.
My hand closed over the iron latch at the same time the door at the other side of the wall crashed open, the red-headed man pouring into the room in a mass of black and fiery crimson. His dark cloak billowed out around him. Eyes somewhere between green and blue closed in on me, and his face twisted into a menacing sneer.
I pushed the door to no avail. It was locked from the outside.
“Just who d’ye think ye are, lass? Breakin’ into this house o’ all places. Must be mad thinkin’ ye’d get away wi’ it!”
If the hair hadn’t tipped me off enough, his accent did the rest. He was a Scot. Like Amy—but unlike her, this man must’ve been born and bred in Scotland. He was no second-generation immigrant like Amy was. His accent was too strong.
Fuck. Amy. She would think I was dead. And Aunt Deb, too!
Get ahold of yourself, I chastised myself internally, forcing a breath of air into my lungs. This wasn’t the time to freak out. I swallowed past a large lump in my throat as the man drew slowly nearer, his hands out in front of him as though he was approaching a feral cat.
He was right to worry. This cat had claws and she knew how to use them. Weak from lack of food and water or not.
“I’m no thief!” I shouted at the man, backing up into the wall with no other option or place to go. I nervously eyed the window, where a light evening breeze drifted inside, beginning to chill the room. “Your—your housemate,” I said, unsure what to call the man who’d taken me. He hadn’t had an accent, so they weren’t brothers. They had to be flat mates. “He—he kidnapped me! I just want to leave. Let me go, and I won’t tell anyone what happened. Promise.”
A lie. If I got out of here, I would rain hell down on these men. I would make sure they all ended up behind bars. Who knew what sort of horrifying plans they had for me? I shivered.
But this one… he obviously didn’t know I was here. He could let me escape. I could just—
“Aye right. Ye’re off yer head if ye think I’ll be believin’ that, lass. My brothers wouldna dream to—”
I made a break for the window, hoping to catch him off guard, and jump over the sill before he could catch me. If I could, then hopefully he wouldn’t be stupid enough to chase after me in the streets.
Almost there. A table knocked to the floor somewhere in my wake. Glass shattered. The Scot cursed. The shutters closed an instant before I could reach them—the wooden panes banging loudly as they sealed off my only chance at escape. How? The wind? I looked back to see the Scot was still several paces away, seething mad—his face red-tinged and teeth bared.
My fingertips pried at the seam where the two shutters met in the middle, trying to find enough purchase to wrench them back open. Strong arms came around me from behind, and I squealed.
The scents of wild heather, horsehair, and something else I could only describe as man smell assaulted me.
“Quit yer squirmin’, lass. I wi’ not harm—”
I rammed my elbow into his stomach and was rewarded with the sound of his pained expulsion of breath—his grip on me loosening enough for me to break free.
The open door the Scot came through glowed like a beacon of safety across the room…until a shadow of a man stepped into the light. The metal mask covering half his face shone in the light from the hallway. “Beck,” he said, and I remembered vaguely that I’d given him my name. “Please—you’re hurt,” he added, stepping into the room with an arm extended as though to caress me.
The fuck?
“What the devil did you do to her, Alex? She’s shaking!” Jasper growled at the other man. The Scot was still trying to catch his breath, one hand gripping the back of a chair tightly to steady himself.
Jasper’s shoulders slumped. “I saved her,” he said, and his eyes met mine for an instant before resting back on Alex. “She was drowning in the Thames. Delirious, she was. Mumbling nonsense. I brought her here.”
Alex only managed to look even more confused, glancing between us like he’d been left out of some grand secret.
Jasper exhaled in a long sigh. “Come, brother. I’ll explain. Let’s leave the lady to get her bearings.”
“But—” I started to protest, but Jasper hushed me gently, stepping in closer again.
This time I didn’t step away. I couldn’t explain it, but somehow, I knew he meant me no harm. What he’d said struck me, and I remembered. He had hauled me from the water. He’d saved my life. That didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t harm me now that he had me in his home. But wouldn’t he have done it already if he intended to?
Wouldn’t the other two have if they were planning to? I had been unconscious for a whole day by the look of it, and none of them had touched me in a violent way. Though, now that I looked over my body, I could see someone had washed the muck from my arms and fingernails. I still wore the gross, dirty clothes I’d fallen into the Thames with, though—which told me that they hadn’t tried to remove them. And I felt a little better.
Maybe I didn’t have to fight my way out of this. Maybe I could just walk out.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, my voice tight. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I said to the man called Alex, unable to meet his steely blue-green gaze, and then turned back to Jasper. “Thanks so much for saving me. I might be dead without your help…but I need to go. I feel much better now and my aunt—she’ll be worried.”
Jasper nodded tersely, and there was a long pause before he spoke. “Of course, miss. But you’re in no condition to walk, and these streets at night are no place for a lady. You’ll stay until morning. Eat. We’ll see about getting you some clean, proper clothes… and then one of us will escort you to your aunt in the morning.”
