“I didn’t think it had gotten so bad,” Jill whispered. Her face was drawn and unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “I was hoping that after he went out with you and got full, I could jump back in and keep up with his needs.”
“I warned you this was going to happen.” The bitter words escaped me in a growl as I shoved both of my hands through my hair. “Humans can’t manage an incubus.”
“I don’t need your I-told-you-so, Gage!” she snapped.
“Sorry.” I lowered both my hands and pulled her into a hug. “You’re both my friends and I don’t want to see either of you hurt.” Jill sighed and hugged me back, laying her head on my shoulder.
“Unfortunately, this conversation isn’t getting us any closer to Parker and we’ve got just around three hours until sunrise. If I’m going to be of any help, we’ve got to do something soon.” Bronx pulled us back to the problem at hand. Giving Jill one last reassuring squeeze, I stepped back and looked around the room again, but nothing grabbed my attention. I knew a couple of spells that would reveal images of the last people to walk through the room, but I didn’t want to use them. They would definitely break Gideon’s edict, much less the self-defense-only agreement with the council. I also didn’t know how I’d explain it to my two companions.
“Oh shit!” Jill cursed. I twisted around to find her covering her mouth with both of her hands as she stared at me with wide eyes. “I think I know who might have him.”
“Who?” Bronx asked, gently laying one large hand on her small shoulder.
“This woman approached him about a month ago. She wanted him to work for her, but Parker refused. She was really pissed and we had to call the cops just to get her to leave. What if she found out about his tattoo?”
“I don’t know how she’d know, but I’m quickly learning that I don’t know half as much about incubi as I should,” I murmured.
“Who’s the woman?” Bronx asked.
“Felicia Hart. She’s a succubus,” I said to Bronx, then looked down at Jill. “Parke told me about the encounter.”
“The business?”
“Miss Holly’s Hot House.”
“Gentlemen’s club?”
I snorted. Sometimes this troll could be so damn polite and proper. “No, it’s a brothel. Felicia is owner and manager of the . . . talent. Everyone working there is either an incubus or a succubus. It’s expensive, but it’s supposed to be some of the best sex ever.”
“Gage!” Jill gasped.
“Shit! I’ve never been there. Parker told me about the place.”
Jill continued to glare at me and I glared back at her. I didn’t like the thoughts that were dancing around in that head of hers. I wanted to give her a good shake, but Bronx was kind enough to break in.
“How do we handle this?” the troll asked, breaking off the glaring contest.
“We go in there and pull him out. Jill goes home and waits for us to send him home after we’re done fixing his tattoo.”
“I’m going too!” Jill said. She held up one hand, stopping my denial in my throat. “This all started because of me. I’m going.”
I looked over at Bronx, waiting for his opinion on dragging Jill to a brothel. He shrugged his large shoulders, looking unwilling to jump into the fray. “I can watch out for her and make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. If Bronx protected Jill, that meant that I was left to extract Parker from his captors. Not the greatest odds, but I was hoping that somewhere along the way Parker would be helping too.
Getting Parker out of the brothel wasn’t the biggest problem. First, I had to figure out a way to block the effects of Parker’s tattoo without raising too many questions. We wouldn’t be of much help if we came down with the urge to screw anything that moved when we got close to the brothel. And I had to do so without giving away that I was a former warlock in training or catching Gideon’s attention. Yeah, this was turning into just a dandy night. Fuck.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The scene in the brothel would have made Caligula cringe. Of course, my mind was already blown when we pulled up to the old Victorian-style mansion at the end of a quiet, oak-lined street. Several people hadn’t even made it into the house. There were couples sprawled on the sloped lawn and pinned against the small wrought-iron fence that surrounded the property.
Keeping Jill between Bronx and myself, I resisted the urge to touch the symbol I had drawn on my chest with some old greasepaint I had left in the shop from All Hallows’ Eve. I had a feeling that Jill was grateful for the symbol on her chest as we passed through the front door, even if she’d initially balked. I just hoped that we got Parker and got out of there before someone sweated off or smeared their only protection against raging insanity.
I had managed the small ward through a couple white lies and some well-placed magic-infused charms around the room. Bronx and Jill didn’t know about the charms, but my hope was that the magical energy radiating off them helped mask what I was doing. It looked like it had worked, since Gideon wasn’t breathing down my neck.
“Gage?” Jill’s unsure voice softly wavered next to me as she tightened her hand on my arm.
We sidled through a narrow opening between two groups, my hand covering hers. “Just keep moving and don’t look directly at anything.”
“Where the hell do I look?” she hissed at me.
There was nothing I could say. It was as if every possible surface was covered with flesh of some sort. I tried to shut down all my other senses, blocking out the overwhelming smells and sounds floating around the enormous parlor glowing in the light of a large glittering crystal chandelier. I just prayed that the idiotic pair hanging from the fixture didn’t fall on us.
While the protective symbols were blocking Parker’s powers, they could do nothing about the impact of watching and listening to so much physical bliss. Gritting my teeth, I looked over my shoulder at Jill to see that she had gotten drawn in, her wide eyes greedily eating up the performance within reach. Bronx wasn’t looking a whole lot better. His face had been wiped of all expression, but I could see a growing tension around his eyes that didn’t bode well. I couldn’t tell if he was getting turned on or if he was repulsed and was getting pissed. Either way, I didn’t want to have to calm him down.
“Bronx! Get Jill out of here!” I ordered, my harsh command snapping his attention back to me. Relief passed through the troll’s eyes for a brief moment before his hand closed over the woman’s slender shoulder.
Jill gave a little shiver at the contact. No human was attracted to a troll. She was hypnotized by what she was watching or the symbol I had drawn between her breasts was failing. Shit. Her focus was fading fast. I knew this was a mistake.
“Bronx! Now!”
As the troll started to pull her back toward the front door, Jill seemed to snap out of her stupor. She jerked out of Bronx’s gentle grasp, hurrying back to my side. “Go, Jill. I can’t be in a position to try to pull both you and Parker out of here. It’s too dangerous. Go with Bronx.”
“Wait! It’s Parker!” she shouted, fighting against Bronx again. The troll didn’t release her, but he had also stopped trying to drag her out of the brothel. I twisted around to look where she was pointing and my eyes fell on Parker, seated naked in a large chair at the end of the room. By the looks of it, he was tied to the high-back chair, but his face held an expression of rapturous peace. Not a bit surprise considering the brothel had been a feeding frenzy for the succubi and incubi in the immediate area. This could be tricky but not impossible. As long as everyone stayed preoccupied, I could sneak over and grab our friend, assuming that he was willing to leave.
Unfortunately, not everyone was preoccupied. A long-legged woman with a waterfall of thick chestnut hair leaned against Parker’s chair, surveying the room. She didn’t look particularly happy, but that didn’t mean she was going to let me take Pa
rker either.
“Do you know who the woman next to Parker is?” I asked before I started across the room.
“Felicia, the owner,” Jill confirmed for me. “And those two men behind her are her bodyguards. Parke said that they are incubi as well.”
I guessed as much, given their expressions of pure elation matched with the muscles bulging against their stretched T-shirts. They seemed more pleased with the scene than Felicia.
I looked at Jill one last time. Something had changed on her face when she spotted Parker. The fear and worry had been replaced by something else that I couldn’t quite define. It was as if she had lost him despite the fact he was still within reach.
With a frown, I pressed through the crowded room, making my way toward Parker and his companions. We were halfway around the room when Felicia noticed us, confusion stealing across her face. She even went so far as to look down at Parker as if to check to make sure he was still alive.
As I stepped over the last pair of bodies writing on the plush red carpet, I turned to find Bronx carrying Jill so that she could follow without being accosted. Her gaze was locked on her boyfriend, a sad look in her eyes.
“Jill!” Parker cried, horror twisting his handsome face. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to take you home.”
“Oh, baby! I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” He started to explain but Jill cut him off.
“Gage told me. He told me everything.” There was something in her voice that cut through me, leaving my stomach twisting in a cold knot as I watched her. I had a feeling that this little escapade had opened her eyes to a couple things, leaving me to worry about Parker.
“Honey, let me explain, please,” he pleaded with her, then turned his face toward me. “Gage, get me the fuck out of here!”
“You don’t have to explain,” Jill said. “I’ll always love you for trying so hard, but you can’t change who or what you are to suit me. It’s wrong. It’s the same way that I know deep down that no matter how much I love you, I can’t change who I am. I will never be happy if I have to share you. I’m sorry.” I clenched my fists at my sides as I watched Jill turn her face into Bronx’s large shoulder. “Please take me out of here, Bronx.”
The troll looked over at me, reluctant to leave me alone in the brothel. I nodded. I could manage until he got Jill to my SUV. Turning my attention to Felicia, I saw she was now standing beside Parker with her arms folded underneath her breasts. Her black catsuit accentuated every lush curve and hollow, leaving my mouth dry and my body hard.
“I’ve come for my friend, Ms. Hart,” I said firmly, ignoring the protests of my body.
“How are you unaffected?” she demanded.
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Now, release him and no one will get hurt.”
Felicia reached behind her and pulled out a long knife. I widened my stance, waiting for her to attack me. “Fine,” she said with a snort. “He’s more trouble than he’s worth. This is chaos. I run a respectable business.” With one hand on the back of the chair, she leaned forward to cut the cord binding Parker’s left wrist. I breathed a sigh of relief, my shoulders slumping. Other than Parker’s destroyed relationship, it looked like we might actually escape this place unscathed.
“No!” shouted one of the incubi standing behind Felicia. “You can’t let him go!”
Felicia lurched away from Parker in surprise, still holding the knife as she turned to face the incubus who was unwilling to release my friend. Both of the men who had been protecting Felicia surged for her, keeping her from cutting Parker’s restraints. I lunged at them, slamming the heel of my palm into one man’s nose, snapping his head back. I dodged the second, twisting out of the way as he swung at me.
“Cut Parker loose!” I shouted as I continued to trade blows with the second incubus while trying to keep an eye on the first, who was still nursing his bleeding and broken nose. Behind me, a woman screamed and a heavy weight landed on my back while a pair of thin arms wrapped around my throat. Apparently, the duo weren’t the only ones who wanted Parker to stick around. Reaching back, I grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled while swinging at the second incubus.
“He’s loose!” Felicia shouted above the chaos swirling around me.
“Get him out of here!” If I could get Felicia and Parker out of the immediate vicinity I might be able to use a small spell to knock out the fuckers who were attacking me without anyone noticing. Gideon would be seriously pissed, but I was outnumbered and the woman on my back was starting to piss me off.
I caught sight of Felicia leading a hobbling Parker through the crowd. She punched someone who stepped into her path, laying them out. She was a lot tougher than I would have guessed. Releasing the hair of the woman on my back, I prepared to unleash a small knockout spell when the man who had been attacking me suddenly flew across the room and crashed into the wall with enough force to create a hole. As the woman disappeared from my back, her screaming turning from rage to terror, I turned to find Bronx scattering my attackers. He set down the woman he had been holding by the back of the neck like a small kitten and she scurried off with a hiss.
“Jill?” I rasped, my throat sore from being nearly crushed.
“Safe. In the car.”
I clapped him on the shoulder, smiling as he sent a dark look at the two incubi who were standing on the fringe as if trying to decide whether to try to attack us both. They didn’t stand a chance and they knew it. “Thanks for coming back.”
“No problem,” Bronx said, one corner of his mouth quirking slightly as he looked down at me. “Ready?”
“Definitely.”
The troll walked beside me as we picked our way through the main parlor to the front door. With Parker gone, the intensity had been flushed from the room. It had become quieter and some of the people were starting to look around as if waking up from a dream. Yeah, but what a hell of a dream!
“This a normal day for you?” Bronx asked as we stepped into the fresh night air.
I gave a little snort as I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I’ve had worse.”
“I’ll keep that in mind should we ever share a drink again.”
CHAPTER NINE
Hell. I slouched on the stool behind the glass case in the lobby of my tattoo parlor, fiddling with my MP3 player, trying to find one last song to listen to before hauling my sorry carcass back to my apartment. My head popped up at the sound of the front door being pushed open. I had forgotten to lock it after I finished tattooing Parker and sent him on his way. Bronx stood in the doorway, a puzzled expression on his face while he looked around at the air as if searching for something. I flashed him a wicked grin, but said nothing. I had a feeling that he could sense the anti-glamour spell I had on the shop. It was just a bit of protection against anyone who wandered into the parlor that was trying to sneak something past me.
The anti-glamour spell wasn’t something that anyone could whip up. When it came to humans, it was the exclusive domain of a witch or warlock. I was hoping that Bronx thought I hired someone in for the spell, but then he had seen me do some interesting things and he was not stupid.
To my surprise, Bronx entered the shop and didn’t say a word about what he felt tingling in the air. He could have turned around and left; I wouldn’t have thought any less of him. Probably would have been the smart thing to do.
“Jill’s home, safe and sound,” Bronx announced as he closed the door behind him. He had been nice enough to take Jill home while I re-tattooed Parker.
“Thanks. Parker just left. The fix seems to be working, but I’m thinking I might go over it again in a couple weeks.” I had hand-drawn a simple teardrop tattoo around the enflamed heart that Bronx had drawn. It had been one of the quickest tattoos I had ever done since I didn’t want to take a chance of any of my wards failing.
“How is he?”
“A mes
s. Right now, he’s probably on my couch, removing the last of the alcohol from my apartment. He’s staying with me for a few days until he figures some shit out.” I frowned, folding my hands on the case before me. “I thought you’d be headed home if not there already. It’s only thirty minutes until sunrise.”
“My place isn’t too far and they’re calling for overcast skies and rain all morning. I’ve got a little time,” Bronx said as he approached. I straightened as Bronx set a dark bottle on the glass case in front of me. I turned the label to face me to find that it was a bottle of Mordred, two hundred and sixteen years old. “A little something to apologize.”
“Apologize?” I asked, my head popping up in surprise.
“This was all my fault. I was the one who suggested the tattoo and I tattooed Parker. Because of the fallout, Parker’s relationship is over and you were forced to deal with the Vestal Virgins.”
I held up one hand stopping him. “Parker’s relationship was on the skids before we stepped in. I’ll agree that the reason for the tattoo was wrong, but there is nothing to fault about the tattoo itself. I would have stirred exactly the same thing. Any artist would have, but few would have achieved the high quality of art that you created.”
“Thanks,” Bronx murmured with a slight bow of his head.
“With that settled, I was thinking that you could start on Tuesday since the parlor’s closed on Sunday and Monday. I usually close up around three in the morning, but I can stay later for the first week or so since you won’t be coming in until after dark. When you feel settled, I’ll have a key made and then you can close up a couple hours before sunrise.”
Bronx stared at me, his bushy brows drawn together over his large nose. “You’re offering me the job?”
“I’ve seen your work and it’s excellent. You’ve got strong stirring skills, though I might test you on a couple other things as we get settled. I also talked to Kyle, and he had nothing but great things to say about you. I’d be grateful to have you join Asylum.”
0.5-The Asylum Interviews: Bronx: An Asylum Tales Short Story Page 7