by H. D. Gordon
“Mr. Ikers mentioned to the girls that he wanted to see ye,” Leon said, keeping his voice low. “‘Apparently, he was sayin’ some interestin’ things ‘bout yer brother, Devon.”
My back stiffened, but I was careful to keep my face neutral. “What kinds of things?” I asked.
Leon held my gaze. “The kinds of things that most Wolves from The Mound would not want said about em, whether they be true er not.”
Despite the cool breeze floating off the Zouri, my blood had begun boiling just below the surface.
“Bet on Killian the Conqueror and Nia Night in this evening’s matches,” I said, and didn’t bother to return Leon’s smile as I pushed off the railing of the dock and headed on my way.
If the male with my brother’s name on his lips wanted to see me, I would certainly not disappoint.
A less impulsive Wolf might have waited a day or two, or even an hour or two, but I was no such Wolf, so I kept my pace casual as I strolled along, the Zouri flanking my right side and The Row flanking my left.
The squat building toward which I was heading was located closer to the southern tip of the town, which was prone to flooding in heavy rain, the muddy, waterlogged ground sometimes making the buildings inaccessible for days on end. In comparison to the careful maintenance of The Row, this part of town was downright dilapidated. For this reason, among others, the rent on these buildings was cheaper than most of the others in Borden, which made it the perfect spot for a cathouse.
Cathouse, of course, was a nicer name for whorehouse. I hated that word, and refused to refer to the working ladies as such. It seemed to me that such words (bitch, whore, slut, etc.) were reserved for females, and used to keep us in our place, which was decidedly below that of males of any species.
Ezra Ikers owned the cathouse at the end of this row of shitty buildings, renting its crappy, drafty rooms to the ladies and taking enough of their earnings so that they could stay, but never leave. For obvious reasons, there was no love lost between the male and me. I didn’t know him personally, but with Borden being the small town it was, I knew of him, and that was more than enough.
Buttoning my suit jacket to further conceal the irons at my hips, I went around to the back of the brick building and knocked on the door. I had to knock thrice more before it was answered.
I knew from the pale blue shade of her eyes that it was Cora on the other side of the door as she peered out of the thin slat cut into the wood. Her eyes also flashed with recognition, and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I also caught a little warning there, a silent suggestion that I just walk away.
“Good morning, Cora,” I said, and the tone of my voice made my intentions in no way uncertain.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice rough from what had no doubt been a long night.
The urge to kick the damn door open—a feat I could no doubt manage with my supernatural strength—washed over me, but I ignored it with some effort.
“I’m pretty certain you know why I’m here,” I said instead.
Cora’s eyes darted to the side, and I could tell that her mouth was set in a tight line even behind the door as she said, “He’s still sleeping.”
I slid my hands into my pockets. In a voice that was low and even, I said, “Well, then wake the son of a bitch up.”
Cora blinked, as if stunned that this was the response, and despite the fact that most of her face was still hidden by the door, I could tell that her expression said something along the lines of, It’s your funeral.
I heard the locks on the door slide back, and then it swung open, revealing a thirty-something female with weariness to her face that was much older. She held utterly still, as Vampires were prone to do, and her dress was the typical thin slip that working ladies wore, still wrinkled and stained from the night before. Kohl from the same was also smudged under her eyes, a bit of lipstick smeared on her chin.
After eyeing me a moment, Cora stepped to the side and waved an impatient hand for me to enter. The door opened up into a common area with old, plush coaches and well-worn rugs. A staircase crawled up the western side of the room, giving access to the multiple chambers above. There was a fire that had been reduced to embers set into a hearth along the wall, and a small bar on the opposite side where many a patron had drowned their inhibitions.
“You can have a seat,” Cora told me, taking in the modest but clean attire I wore. In my black, knee-high boots and black suit jacket with the silver buttons, one would not have guessed where I was from, or what I would be doing in a place like this.
I made no move to sit as Cora ascended the stairs in that elegant glide her kind had, but instead, wandered over to the fireplace and absorbed a bit of its dwindling warmth. I was kept waiting for another eighteen minutes (which I marked by checking the timepiece tucked in my pocket) before I heard the heavy thud of footsteps crossing one of the rooms above, and then down the stairs, as Ezra Ikers finally deemed it proper to make an appearance.
I didn’t turn away from the hearth, even as I heard him approaching behind me. To so casually give a male Wolf your back was a subtle but ballsy insult. It meant that you didn’t see them as a considerable threat.
In my twenty-one years of life, I’d often turned my back on Wolves others would not dare insult, and had found most were so shocked that a female would have the nerve to do such a thing that they weren’t even sure how to react to it.
Which, I, admittedly, found rather hilarious.
Still not bothering to turn and look at him, over my shoulder, I said, “I heard you wanted to see me.”
My strong nose told me that he’d stopped a respectable distance away, and my instincts told me that his sharp gaze was currently wandering slowly up my backside. I made sure not to shift on my feet despite the unwanted observation.
“You heard right,” Ezra said, his tone the gruff rumble of a male who is well accustomed to talking down to females.
I let the thick silence hang between us for a moment before finally turning on my heels to meet his gaze. I made sure to rake my eyes over him in the same disrespectful manner he’d done to me, starting at his shoes and ending at his eyes. My expression revealed just how unimpressed I was in my assessment.
I removed one hand from my pocket and waved it, telling him without words to get on with it, then.
Ezra sucked at his teeth before answering. He was an ugly male, by anyone’s standards, with a paunch large enough to be carrying a babe and a pockmarked face that was perpetually spotted with uneven stubble. His head was balding, though it was obvious he took great pride in slicking back what hair remained with oil and a comb. A gold necklace with an E pendant hung around his fat neck, and the scents of various females clung to him.
I would have bet my last earnings that part of the “rent” the ladies had to pay for living and working in this shithole included allowing the boss the pleasure of crawling into their beds whenever he saw fit.
Which, I would also bet, was quite often.
“You got a brother by the name of Devon?” he asked, though we both knew he already knew the answer.
For this reason, among others, I only stared back at him, my silence answer enough.
“I heard you were quite the hustler,” Ezra added, “that you do all right for yourself.”
My lips wanted to twist in distaste, and so I let them, just a bit. Along with the cold levelness of my gaze, the expression spoke volumes. From the flash of rage that flickered behind Ezra’s dark eyes, I figured it’d been some time—if ever—that a female had looked at him like that.
“Is there a point you’re attempting to make, Mr. Ikers?” I asked, and checked my timepiece again before slipping my hands casually back into my pockets.
Ezra sniffed, rubbing at his nose with his sausage-like fingers. “Fine,” he said. “I know about Devon—his little secret, that is… And it can stay that way. A secret—I mean, if you want it to.”
I watched in silence as he moved closer to the
hearth, closer to me. My sensitive ears told me that some of the ladies had awoken in the rooms above, that a few of them had crept over to the stairwell and were currently listening to every word.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, refusing to shift on my feet when he moved even closer. The male was easily twice my size.
But even so, he was nowhere near the size of my father, and I had never once cowered in his shadow, so I had no trouble not cowering now. For all the bastard that he was, my father had sure made a soldier out of me.
“Sure you do, sweetheart,” Ezra crooned, crooked smile pulling up his full, pink lips and wafting his foul breath my way. “And if you’re done playing tough-girl, I’ll let you know the terms of my silence.”
I smiled, showing every one of my straight, white teeth. “By all means,” I replied.
“I want half your earnings,” he said, sniffing again and adjusting his waistband.
I tipped my head back, considering. “Is that all?” I asked.
Now his voice was low and somehow slimy, the same voice, I imagined, that he used when he was forcing himself on the females who were currently listening silently from above.
“Well, you see, Miss Silvers, that was going to be all I asked for… but that was before you swaggered in here and so brazenly insulted me in front of my girls.” His voice lowered further still, and now he was close enough for me to feel the body heat radiating off him. “This whole operation, it doesn’t work unless these bitches respect me. What will they think if I just let your flippant behavior slide?” He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid that won’t do at all.”
My gaze held steady. “I see. So what is it you want, then?”
Ezra’s tongue snaked out over his lips, his eyes eating me up. “You seem like a smart Wolf. I bet you can figure it out.”
Another nod and a twitch of my nose as that foul breath hit me again. “With all due respect, Mr. Ikers,” I said, flatly but loudly enough that those prying ears could hear me, “you can go fuck yourself.”
I suppose I should have seen it coming, but he moved swiftly for a fat Wolf, and I only registered what was happening as the back of his hand connected with my jawbone, as the sound of skin striking skin rang out loudly enough that they might have heard it in the street, and fantastic pain exploded across my face, stinging my eyes and rattling my brain.
My head was still ringing when his foul breath filled my nose once more. “Listen to me, you little bitch,” Ezra growled, “you either agree to my terms, or I’ll take what I want by force. Either way, I win. And if you try to go to the authorities, I’ll come down to that shithole you call home and have my way with your family… I heard you got a pretty little sister, just about old enough to be flowering.”
Over his shoulder, I caught sight of a couple of the females on the staircase, both Wolves and Vampires, their faces set into grim masks that revealed they were used to this kind of behavior from their boss.
Ezra had not pulled his strike, had put a considerable amount of force behind it, but I had managed to keep my feet beneath me. Now, as my vision cleared to reveal his triumphant grin, I reached up with my thumb and swiped a bit of blood off my lip. For a moment, I only breathed and stared down at the scarlet on the tip of my thumb.
Then I looked back up and met the male’s eyes.
“I’m from The Mound, Mr. Ikers,” I said, my voice as calm as the Southlands just before a storm. “That means I don’t talk to the Hounds. I don’t use them to solve my problems.”
“Well, then, maybe you’re not as stupid—”
There was a yelp from one of the ladies as a fantastic bang exploded from my revolver and cut the words short, Ezra’s eyes widening just a fraction before the top of his head was ripped back by the bullet.
Blood splattered my face as Ezra’s brain matter spattered against the stones around the hearth. It sizzled as some of it met with the embers still glowing inside, and I watched with a blank expression as his fat body slumped to the floor.
Then, absolute silence as I slowly lowered the still warm and smoking iron in my hand.
I stepped around the mess that was now Ezra Ikers so that I could call up the stairs.
“Ladies?” I said. “I’d like a word, if you please.”
Chapter 6
His was not the first life I’d taken, and though it was not something I enjoyed, I also had no qualms taking it.
Not during the daylight hours, anyway. Those types of musings were for the wee hours, fuel for restless nights and heart-pounding dreams.
The ladies did not seem to want to come down.
I took a couple steps up the staircase, noting the blood that now spotted my boots, and felt the ripple of fear from up above. The Wolf in me perked up at the scent of it.
Gently, I said, “I mean you no harm, ladies... I’m not him.”
There was no answer.
Sighing, I realized that I was still holding the revolver and replaced it in the holster at my right hip, adjusting my long suit jacket so that the weapon was once again concealed along with its twin.
“I have an offer,” I added. “A generous offer.”
This seemed to do it, as I’d suspected it would, and slowly, the ladies of the house began to emerge from the top of the staircase. I gave them a little space, and offered what I hoped was a disarming half smile, subtly putting myself between them and the exit.
“Is this all of you?” I asked, counting six females in total. Two Vampires, two Wolves, and one Fae.
Two of them I knew from mutual acquaintances—Cora and Cecelia, and the rest I had only seen in passing. Borden was not a large town, and I was meticulous about marking names and faces. This group was from the various slums near the edges of Borden, all relatively young. Most of them were around my age, save for Cora.
Despite this, none of them appeared particularly upset about the fact that their boss was lying dead before the hearth, more so just shocked and shaken. Growing up dirt-ass-poor, the only work available that of selling their bodies, I supposed, could do that to a person.
There were glances between them, and it was this silent exchange that revealed the closeness of this particular mismatch group of ladies. From the gleam in their eyes, I knew they were calculating and assessing. My instincts told me Cora was the ringleader of the group, so it was her gaze I met.
“Is this everyone?” I repeated.
Cora pushed out her chin a bit, folding her arms over her chest. “Yes,” she said.
I nodded once, still watching the group closely. I waved a hand at where Ezra lay. “This was an… unfortunate turn of events.”
Cora snorted, though I could tell from her body language that the tough front was mostly an act. Cora and Cecelia—both Vampires—held utterly still while the others shifted uncomfortably on their bare feet. For all the things these ladies had likely endured and seen in their lives, this was all the unease they let on. I didn’t say so, but I admired them for it.
“I’d appreciate it if we didn’t mention this… little incident to anyone. Particularly the Hounds,” I told them. Though it was voiced as a request, I was certain they understood that it was more of an order.
“You said you had an offer,” mumbled one of the ladies, a Wolf whose name I didn’t know. She met my gaze only briefly before flicking her eyes away.
“A generous offer,” Cora corrected. “Ezra was the one who rented this place, as I’m sure you’re aware that such rentals aren’t available for females. So, you see, Miss Silvers, you just killed our only source of income. Unless you plan to try and secure the permits yourself and become our new boss.”
It was a challenge, and Cora cringed a bit at the warning that flashed behind my eyes.
“No, I won’t be doing that,” I said.
Cora tossed up her hands and scoffed, as if Ezra’s demise was simply a pesky inconvenience. My head tilted as I supposed this wasn’t far from the truth. For me, anyway. The male had threatened not
only me, but my family, and so, in my mind, as gruesome as the current scene was, there had been no other course of action.
Even still, I wasn’t dim enough not to consider that I may rethink the incident later on, and hopelessly toy with what might have been better alternate choices.
But, what was done was done.
Slowly, so as not to startle them, I moved over to where I’d left Ezra and yanked one of the worn rugs up from the floor so that I could drape it over him. With that done, I kept my hands out of my pockets as I returned to my position between the ladies and the exit. Male or female, it was never wise to provoke a group of shaken supernaturals.
“What I mean is, I would not have you sell your bodies,” I clarified. “But I would like to hire you for other things. I’ve just gotten into a new business venture, and I need people to help me run it. Loyal, smart people.”
The ladies studied me while Cora cast me a skeptical look. “What kind of business?”
“Bootlegging,” I said.
As I’d expected, gasps escaped a couple of them, and even Cora’s mouth fell open.
“You’re insane.”
I tilted my head. “Why do you say that?”
“Pfft,” Cora said, with a wave at the lumped rug now concealing her former boss. “Among other things,” she continued, “the Borden’s own the bootlegging business around here, and what’s more, no female has ever headed such an operation… How could we even be sure you’d protect us?”
I waved a hand toward Ezra in much the same manner as she had. “As you said, among other things, I would stand between you and any male who’d harm you…” Slowly, I unbuttoned my suit jacket and pushed back the sides to reveal the duel revolvers at my waist. “But I would also have you learn to protect yourselves. To protect each other.”
They still looked apprehensive, more than a tad disbelieving, but I could see that the wheels in their heads were turning. They could not be blamed for their inability to imagine such a thing. Males headed Packs, Covens, and every other gathering of supernaturals exclusively. They were the providers, the protectors. Females, as a very gender-specific role, were expected to fall in line. Only the Fae placed their females in positions of power, and that was solely within their own hierarchy.