by Kathryn Moon
"Behave…?" I arched an eyebrow, and Jonathon arched one right back.
"Yes. Behave. Meaning you don't tempt me to haul you into that bedroom and make us miss our appointments for the day."
"So I can't feed you breakfast?" I asked, grinning.
Jonathon eyed the food over my shoulder, then looked down at where I was splayed over his lap. He was already half-hard, I could feel him pressing against me and I was sure he could feel the heat of my sex nestled against him. He let out a soft groan, and I watched his throat bob with his swallow.
"You may, but no orgasms until after dinner tonight," he said on a sigh. "For either of us."
I laughed at that, as well as the grunting sound he made as I twisted and reached for a slice of bacon to feed him, making sure to thrust my breasts in his face. If I had to wait for orgasms, I would make sure my gentlemen suffered just as much as I did.
"Breathe in."
I grunted behind pinched lips as the dresser at the modiste yanked on the laces of my corset. I'd never had to wear one so tight before, and I was wondering if it would even be possible for Dr. Underwood to make good on his bargain. My waist and ribs ached and my breath was coming short already.
"That's plenty tight, she has a lovely enough figure as it is," the seamstress said with one glance at my flushed cheeks in the mirror. She had a great armful of a deep coppery red fabric in her arms, the gown she'd just finished fitting for my evening at the theater.
I'd assumed Auguste had ordered one dress, but in fact, I'd been fitted for six, all in dark jewel tones that made my pale skin shine. Of all of them, this one had the tightest waist, and I'd already decided that Auguste could go and suck his own blood if he decided he wanted to fit me into something so tight again after tonight.
My breasts were very high. Practically ready to pop out, which was perhaps the point. At least there wasn't a full bustle. I would be able to sit at the theater, even if I couldn't breathe.
"I think we'd better loosen it a bit, Sarah," the seamstress added with a faint chuckle. "I'm sure Monsieur Thibodeaux plans on more than just looking at her."
The dresser, Sarah, grunted, and I gasped as she eased the laces enough for me to take an almost full breath.
"Better?"
I smiled gratefully at the seamstress, Aida, and then held myself still as she and Sarah drew the gown over my head, wiggling me inside and lacing up the back. Sapphire blue beading created feathers that cupped and shaped over my breasts and hips, fluttered along the floor as I twisted and the skirt swished. There was a thin trim of lace along the low sweetheart collar, enough to draw the eye to the high swell of my breasts. The back of the skirt was heavy with drapes and folds, but the front ran smoothly down, making me look a little taller than I really was.
"I look like a piece of jewelry," I said, turning and eyeing myself in the mirror as the women ran their hands over me, searching for any forgotten pins.
"Yes, men seem to like women on their arm that way," Aida mused. "Someone will do something with your hair, won't they?"
I started to laugh and then decided there wasn't quite enough air in the dress for that. "I'm sure." I just really hoped it wasn't Cork because she seemed like she might not leave any hair left on my head.
"Mm. At least you have plenty of it," Aida murmured, reaching up and twisting a dark lock of hair around her hand. "No hairpieces for you. And Monsieur has better taste in dresses than most men, so you'll have jewels tonight too."
I blinked at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine how I might look with my hair done up and my face painted, dressed in jewelry. Maybe Auguste and Amon weren't so different after all. Were they both trying to fashion me into a grander woman than I really was? Did I even mind?
"Mon dieu, look at you."
I twisted on the stool, a little rouge still on my fingertip from where I'd been dabbing it against my lips.
"Wait, you should have the full effect," I said, rising up. My ankle was sore after so much time spent standing at the dressmaker’s, and I hopped in place, keeping it raised as I turned to Auguste. He stood in the doorway of the suite he'd offered me, eyes wide and lips parted. Cork had just left after brutalizing my scalp into a pretty updo of soft swirling curls, and I'd just drawn a little kohl onto my eyes and dabbed a red stain to my lips. "Was all your money worth it?" I teased, holding out my arms so he could admire me.
Auguste's eyes narrowed, and his smile turned rueful. "Do you hate it?"
"No!"
"Tell the truth, mon coeur."
I swallowed and my arms lowered slowly, eyes dropping to the floor. "It's very beautiful."
"You're very beautiful, and I mean that if you're wearing a sheet, or men's trousers, or a sack, or this gown. I only wanted to do justice to you and spoil you a little."
"A little?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
Auguste laughed and prowled closer. "Fine. I wanted to dress you up and show you off tonight. Forgive me?"
"I do," I said, because he was honest about it, and if it was for his sake, I didn't mind so much. My breath hitched as he reached me, leaning in and head dipping. "Wait! I haven't finished fussing with my face."
"Your face is perfect, Esther. If your mouth gets any redder, we'll end up leaving our poor doctor alone at dinner," Auguste growled out.
"There's dinner?" I asked hopefully.
Auguste grinned and kissed my cheek, bending a little lower to kiss my shoulder next and then down to nuzzle and nip at my breasts where they were shoved up for probably precisely this purpose.
"Dinner for you," Auguste rumbled. "I'll have mine later."
"You could have it now," I breathed, arching slightly and offering myself up to his roving lips.
"Not without being late," Auguste groaned, standing straight again. "Here, this is for you too. There's a necklace in the set, but I think I prefer to have your throat bare unless you'd like to wear it."
Auguste passed me a long thin black velvet box tied with a crimson ribbon as if it were nothing but a bookmark or a pen inside. The bracelet jostled as I opened it, sapphires flashing against the copper settings, beetle shells and flower buds linked together. Auguste helped himself to fastening it around my wrist as I gaped.
"Those aren't real are they?" I breathed. Auguste only laughed, and I winced, looking up at him. "You don't have to do this. Presents like these. You know I…I want you no matter what."
The clasp snapped shut in the quiet between us, Auguste's face lifting, pupils turning dark, but his expression was soft and open. Which meant he liked what I said in a way that made him want to bite me, but not with the same sexual edge I usually managed.
"Oh, mon coeur," Auguste murmured, hands lifting to cup my face. I'd missed his cool touch, and I sighed into it now, leaning toward him. "If I want to bribe you, I'll do it with sex, I promise. This is only a gift."
I grinned at that and held my mouth lifted for him to bow and kiss softly, amused at the color now staining his lips as if he'd just drank from me.
"Now, off to dinner with us. We have a very busy evening planned." Auguste turned, my hand clasped in his, and started leading me to the door of the suite.
"At the monster theater?" I asked, keeping my eye on him.
"Ah, you dug that much out of Underwood, eh? But not much more, or I'm certain you'd have a million questions for me. You'll like the surprise. Now come."
Chapter Sixteen
A Night at the Theater
“You should've eaten more, mon coeur."
"I don't know how much more you expected to fit in that dress, Gus," Jonathon said, flashing me a smirk from across the carriage. We passed a street light, and the shadows harshened the angles of his face, making me think of Mr. Tanner.
Auguste hmph'ed and leaned toward the carriage window as we turned a corner. "Ah. Here we are. If she grows faint…"
"If she grows faint, Tanner will rip her out of the whole ensemble and you'll have to let her wear your cape for the rest of the night," Jonathon tossed
back.
The two men bickered most of the way through dinner and almost the entire quick trip to the theater—which was not at all located in or near Covent Garden, but in one of the dingier areas of the city. I would've wondered about their friendship if it weren't for the frequent bouts of sudden laughter and massive grins that interrupted their petty arguing. It was a little like walking in on the footmen in the middle of one of their private inside jokes, but my gentleman did their best to include and engage me when they weren't busy teasing one another.
"Would you consider it a rescue mission if he did?" Auguste asked me. "I feel like I haven't seen you relax once tonight."
"That's just because this corset has me pinned in one position," I said.
"It's all right, Esther. You can just say you liked the dress I bought you better," Jonathon said, lips twitching.
"Come to think of it, I might've liked that dress better," Auguste said before I had to make an awkward answer.
The carriage pulled to a stop and I leaned forward, craning to look around Auguste out the window, but all I saw was a very dark and somewhat intimidating alleyway.
"This view is nice though," Jonathon murmured, and I frowned until I realized he was staring at the neckline of my dress and how I was almost spilling out of it.
"Careful, your eyes are going green," I warned him.
Auguste chuckled as Jonathon blushed, and my vampire opened the door of the carriage, stepping out before offering me his hand.
I ducked out onto the cool, empty street and stepped gratefully into Auguste's side. I had a little cape for my shoulders, but it did little to keep me warm and even less to offer protection.
"I take it this isn't the kind of theater with balconies and candelabras," I said, keeping my voice bright. This area seemed more like the kind of place you would come for some sort of boxing match, full of warehouses and buildings with cracked windows.
"You might be surprised," Jonathon answered, following us out and offering me his arm too.
We stepped forward as a trio, but it wasn't the sidewalk we headed for. Auguste and Jonathon led me directly into the alley, wet, dark brick rising high on either side, the faint safety of the lamps fading behind us as we walked deeper in.
"It had to be somewhere a human wouldn't accidentally happen upon," Auguste murmured to me. "There are wards protecting it too."
"Some of those wards make the entrance a little more intimidating. And since you mentioned it, Auguste and I share a private box," Jonathon added.
For all their reassurance, there was nothing that made our dark walk look any less foreboding until the moment Auguste made a sudden right turn, stepping forward and leading us into an even darker and more narrow alley.
All at once, like a curtain lifting on a lit stage, the world illuminated with lamps burning high and bright. Rowdy voices garbled together in greeting from a dense sea of figures directly ahead of us pressed together under an archway that read The Company of Fiends Presents. Beneath that, a small painted sign advertised 'Tantalizing Nightmares.'
I caught my breath at it all, feeling Jonathon's smile on the side of my face as he watched me drink it in. For the most part, the crowd in front of us looked human, as we did. There were some men and women who were a little paler that might've been vampires too. A group of enormous men stood at the top of the steps, reminding me of Mr. Tanner. There were women dressed as finely as I was, on the arms of slightly unusual-looking men, but also couples together who looked rough and cheerful as if they'd just come from a small tavern rather than an elegant hotel restaurant.
Auguste really was trying to show me off to them. Next time, I would convince him to let me wear something simple.
"What's a tantalizing nightmare, do you think?" I whispered in Auguste's ear.
He grinned but didn't meet my eye. "I imagine we'll find out when the curtain comes up."
There was no ticket booth and no usher at the door, just the great mess of the crowd milling together in a crowded but stylish lobby, heading for a series of doors. The finer dressed couples drifted over to a set of stairs on either end of the room, and Auguste led us to the right.
Aside from some of the more confusing faces we passed, the clearest indication that the men and women around me weren't human was the way so many of them sniffed the air before finding me in the crowd, eyes flashing with hunger. A week ago, it might've thrilled me, and I was a little surprised to find a chill running up my spine, my eyes searching the crowd and expecting to find the shadow of the wraith just at the corner of my eye.
"Are you all right? Is it your ankle?" Jonathon asked in my ear.
Auguste frowned with worry, glancing back over his shoulder. "I can carry you up."
I shook my head and let out a breath of laughter. "I'm fine, really."
I hurried after his gentle, leading tug, Jonathon's arm wrapped protectively around my waist. In spite of my claim, my doctor practically lifted me at every step, and it was easier to breathe on the stairs as the crowd thinned around us. A few of the groups around us nodded their greetings, but no one stepped closer.
"Do you know them?" I whispered to Jonathon.
He ducked his head to answer. "We do. And they know you are our guest. There's…an etiquette when it comes to human guests. No one will come closer without our invitation."
So all the hungry staring was only that. It was a curious relief, but it made me a little braver and more blatant about looking back. There was an ebony man with high sharp ears like Cork's and acid yellow eyes who shot me a fangy grin when I looked in his direction, and another who'd just removed his hat to reveal three more eyes on his forehead. They were both dressed richly, the one with five eyes draped in something almost like a cape that undulated with movement from beneath.
"This way," Auguste said, interrupting my gawking.
There was a second flight of steps leading up, but we ducked beneath, onto a lower landing, with two red-curtained doorways.
Auguste pushed the second of the two open, and I gasped.
The theater was beautiful. Every bit the sort of luxurious space I'd expected before we'd arrived at the alleyway. The seats were dark gold velvet, the carpets red, and above the main floor was an enormous crystal chandelier. There was a small pit in front of the stage, and a grand organ piano by the left wing.
Jonathon nudged me inside, and I paused at the wide bench, stroking my hands over the lush fabric.
"She's impressed," Jonathon whispered to Auguste.
"I'm amazed," I breathed. "How do you all keep a place like this secret?"
"The same way we keep ourselves secret," Auguste said with a shrug. "Some magic. A great deal of loyalty. Now come and sit between us, they'll dim the lamps soon, and you deserve a little warning of what's coming."
I hurried around the bench to sit snuggly against Auguste, eyes wide. It was broad enough for the three of us to be comfortable, but I was pleased when Jonathon sat every bit as close to me, his arm draped over the back and fingers teasing at the loose curls at the base of my neck.
"We planned our night with you before the events at Rooksgrave," Auguste said, lowering his voice and stroking his thumb tenderly over my cheek. "You like playing games with us, and I suspected you'd find this enjoyable. However, now I'm afraid some of the scenes on the stage might remind you a little too much of your attack."
"Oh!" The title, ‘Tantalizing Nightmares,’ rang through my head. Some of what happened in the grotto had been tantalizing, at least at first. I chewed on my lip, and Jonathon bent to kiss a shoulder.
"If you're uncomfortable, we can leave at any time. But I did want you to know that in spite of what the scenes might depict, everyone on stage is a very enthusiastic volunteer. Even if they are…playing the part of a victim."
"Those will be primarily humans," Jonathon added gently.
My mouth rounded, eyes growing wide, and while my heart was racing, it wasn't with fear.
"You don't mind, do you,” Auguste
said, watching my expression shift, his worry sliding into delight.
I shook my head and glanced over the railing to the quickly filling room, and then at the shut curtains of the stage. "What kind of scenes?” I asked, trying to be coy and failing as both Auguste and Jonathon chuckled.
"Ones you will enjoy, Miss Reed," Jonathon purred in my ear.
I settled back into my seat, Auguste's fingers tangling with one of my hands and Jonathon's with the other. There was still conversation humming on the floor when the lights began to dim, shadows flitting from one lamp to the next.
"Pixies," Jonathon told me as one rushed by our box. "The stage managers."
A breathy giggle escaped at that news, and then the music was rising up from the pit, droning and swooning, low and ominous, and sinuous too. A figure stepped out onto the stage after a few hypnotic bars, and Auguste and Jonathon both released my hands to clap, along with the rest of the room. I joined them late and watched, gasping, as the man in his beautifully black tailored suit spread his arms. All six of them. He took a bow with a great number of flourishes, then turned and marched for the organ, and I realized that the tail dragging behind him was not an exaggerated piece of fashion, but an actual tail! Black and spiked, a little hiss of scales against the floorboards.
"He looks like great fun," I murmured, waggling my eyebrows and then laughing as Auguste pinched my thigh through my skirt. "Think of all those hands."
"You'll make do with four tonight," Auguste muttered. "But perhaps we can recruit a few others when we return to Rooksgrave."
I flashed him a grin, but was quickly diverted as the music rounded together into one long, sustained note and the curtain began to part.
A pale figure whipped past the opening curtain, and a bright, feminine cry was released before it darted quickly back again, stepping into a spotlight. It was a young woman, center stage, gasping for breath and wearing a flimsy, torn nightgown. Her hair was a pale shade of brown, eyes large and dark, and the garment was more or less transparent, the tips of her nipples shining pink through the fabric. Perhaps she rouged them as I had my lips.
