Karen Chance, Marjorie M Liu, Yasmine Galenorn, Eileen Wilks

by Inked (lit)

  THE afternoon sun beat down, the dusky scent of summer wafting through the streets. Y’Elestrial was beautiful. Buildings of marble and stone stretched along the neatly patterned streets. Carts clattered past us, horses’ hooves clicking delicately as they trotted along the cobblestones. Flocks of pedestrians milled through the thoroughfares, hurrying on their way to wherever they had to go.

  We turned down the road leading to the central market where the vendors opened at sunrise and closed after sunset. Most lived in their stalls, spending their money on brandy and wine, sleeping off one drunken stupor after another under the canopies and awnings. Unlike regular shopkeepers, they were vagabonds—their wagons their only homes.

  Bees droned their way past, lazily hunting through the flower arrangements that were for sale. The cadence of the vendors hawking their wares and of haggling customers filled the street with a cacophony of noise…an argument over the price of starflowers at one stall, quibbling over a bone pipe at another, women bargaining for fresh meat at the butchers’ kiosks. The collision of voices and sounds sent a bustling energy through the air.

  The vast market was four blocks long. Eventually we came to the end and exited onto a smaller side street. Trillian pointed toward a low building with a sign that read the steak and ale.

  As I pushed through the door, the aroma of sizzling beef caught me short. My stomach rumbled and I let out a grateful, “Oh, that smells good.”

  Trillian returned my smile, winking slyly. “You’re hungry.” It wasn’t a question.

  I nodded. “I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast this morning. I was running late, and the nut bread Jahn gave me only took the edge off my hunger.”

  He led me over to a private booth and we slid into the upholstered seats on either side of the table, illuminated by a honeycombed candle, its wax fragrant and inviting. Trillian didn’t speak until the serving girl approached. She blushed when she saw him. I realized he must have that effect on a lot of women.

  “We have good beef today,” she said. “And rosemary potatoes, fresh bread, and strawberry jam. Will that do?”

  Trillian glanced at me.

  I nodded. “I’d like a glass of water, please.”

  “Would you prefer wine?” he asked. I shook my head and the girl moved off to place our order.

  “All right,” I said after a moment. “I’m having lunch with you. Tell me what you know of Roche.”

  He gazed at me for a moment, not speaking, then softly said, “And so swiftly she veers to the contract.”

  “It’s just…I need to know about him,” I said, suddenly feeling rude. He’d been nothing but a gentleman so far. Since I was using him to get to Roche, the least I could do was extend a hand in peace. “I’m sorry. This is so very important. I have to catch this man.”

  Trillian rested his elbows on the table, leaning toward me. “I assume you work for the YIA. You don’t have the look, but I recognize the harried expression. Don’t worry—” he said, fending off my protest. “I’m not asking you to answer, just speculating.”

  I let out a long sigh. “You speculate right. And my neck is on the line if I don’t bring in this guy. My boss is doing everything he can to prevent me from succeeding.” Suddenly, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care who heard me, or whether it cost me my job. I was tired of fighting, tired of being the scapegoat.

  Trillian cocked his head to the side and slid his hands across the table, gently taking hold of mine. The feel of his skin against mine sparked like oil on flame. My nipples pressed against the lace of my bustier, the material suddenly feeling harsh and arousing. The spark traced a fuse that led down through my stomach to settle between my thighs.

  His fingers, so dark against mine, were like coffee on cream, soft and velvety smooth. He slowly turned my palm face-up and rubbed the tip of one index finger against the cup of my hand, tracing the lines that creased my flesh. Every touch unsettled me. I clenched my thighs together, trying to hide my arousal, but I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

  “Your supervisor seeks to fail you because you are de’estial?” Again, the silken voice.

  I raised my eyes to meet his. He’d used the Sidhe term for a phrase that meant “walker of two paths,” but I knew he was talking about my heritage. But usually, the word de’estial was given as an honor, not used when referring to a half-breed like myself. I searched his face, but there was no hint of repulsion, no sign that he looked down on me because of my human heritage.

  Slowly, I nodded. “That, and he wants to sleep with me, and I won’t comply.”

  Trillian pursed his lips, but a ripple of laughter broke free. “I can understand why he would want you,” he said. “But a real man never forces a woman, even when he has the opportunity. Even when he has the power to enslave her against his will.” He stood and leaned over the table, his face mere inches from mine. “There is no pleasure in a hollow victory, is there?”

  Mesmerized, I shook my head. All of Jahn’s warnings were screaming at me, along with my father’s worries, but I swept them aside. Svartan he might be, but I could sense when people lied to me. And Trillian wasn’t lying. Maybe he was prettying up his words, but outright deceit? No, I’d bet my paycheck that he meant what he said.

  I realized I was clutching his hands now, holding them tight. Another glance into his eyes told me he was aware of my hunger. I slowly let go, forcing myself to sit back in the booth as I tried to catch my breath.

  The serving girl brought our meals and Trillian paid her.

  “Eat. I’m starving.” He handed me the bread. I tore off a chunk and then pushed the rest across the table. “So you are looking for this man Roche. You work for the YIA. He’s a fugitive?”

  Grateful for the change in subject, I nodded. “Yes, he’s sadistic, a rapist and murderer. My job is to catch him, but none of the leads panned out. I can only hope this perv stumbles across my path. That is, unless I can come up with some clues on my own. Ones I know aren’t fabricated.”

  “Perv?” Trillian looked confused.

  “Pervert. Twisted—in a bad way. It’s an Earthside term. My mother was human.” I stopped buttering the piece of bread I was holding.

  “Was, as in she’s dead?”

  “She died when my sisters and I were young. She fell off a horse and broke her neck. I miss her.”

  Surprised, I felt tears well up. Every now and then, the memory of her death hit me in just the wrong way, but I was usually alone and locked in my room when it happened. Delilah and Menolly counted on me to be the strong one. I’d taken over when Mother died, and now I was mistress of the household. It was my duty to remain the anchor and support.

  I tried to swallow my sadness, but one tear broke free and traced its way down my cheek. I started to look away, but his hand was suddenly cupping my chin and his eyes were surprisingly gentle as he once again leaned across the table and gently kissed the tear away. He didn’t try to kiss me on the mouth, but settled back into his seat.

  “Some hurts can never be mended,” he said. “No matter how much time passes. They tattoo themselves on our souls.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, so merely bit into my food. The beef was rich and juicy, the potatoes a savory burst of flavor in my mouth.

  “As I told you back in the bar, last night I saw the man you are seeking. He was in the marketplace, at the gambler’s tent.” Trillian took a sip of his water, then buttered another piece of bread. “He was involved in a game of q’aresh. He’ll be back there tonight.”

  “What makes you think so?” I asked.

  “He lost a great deal of money and became extremely vocal. He wanted a young girl that the marketer was offering as part of the wager. Your quarry appears to be on the obsessive side. The dealer told him to return when he could afford a rematch. Roche said he’d return this evening. I’m guessing he’ll show up to see if the girl’s still there.” Trillian pushed aside his plate. “So tonight, we’ll go see if we can catch ourselves a murderer.�
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  I stared at him. “We’ll go? Why would you want to go with me? This could be dangerous, and you have nothing to gain.”

  Trillian slid out of the booth and held out his hand. “I’ll go with you because you need help. I’ll go with you because I detest men who refuse to acknowledge the value of women. I’ll help you because men who rape children and get their rocks off on hurting innocent women deserve to die.”

  As I listened to that velvet voice, the arrogance and sardonic façade fell away and I saw the man behind the mask. Beneath his jaded exterior, Trillian was a man who loved women. Who didn’t count them by their heritage or status. He was dangerous and cruel, but only to those who gave him a reason to fight.

  I placed my hands on his shoulders, feeling the well-toned biceps that were hidden beneath the meticulous tunic.

  Trillian waited, his luminous blue eyes gazing down into my own dark ones. The invitation was there—unspoken, but there.

  As I raised up on the tips of my toes, pressing my lips against his, he wrapped his arms around me and I surrendered myself to his embrace.

  3

  HIS caress enveloped me with the most glorious glow I’d ever felt, and his lips were soft, like golden taffy. He gently parted my lips with his tongue and all thoughts as to why this might not be a good idea fled.

  As he tightened his embrace, I could feel the outline of him pressing through his trousers, hard and eager, but he didn’t push, didn’t grind against me like some men would have.

  After a moment, I needed to catch my breath. As if reading my mind, he loosened his pressure on my lips. I quickly gulped air before once again, his mouth was on mine, his tongue playing lightly over mine. His touch navigated a serpentine path up my spine as he pressed his hand to my lower back. Then, slowly, he began to withdraw, easing his hands off me, pulling back inch by inch.

  I caught a ragged breath and stared at him. What the hell? I’d never felt such an intense kiss. Out of my mind with lust, I wanted his hands on my naked body, his fingers to slide over my breasts, along my stomach, to whisper their secrets between my thighs. The thought of him inside me electrified my body, and every muscle began to ache, I wanted him so much.

  He held up one hand. “Before this goes any further, let me warn you. If you sleep with me, you may find it hard to walk away. I’m one of the Charming Fae. Our bodies are saturated with sexual magic, and very few are immune to the effect. Make no mistake, if you fuck me, this will be more than a casual bedding.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d heard the rumors but they’d seemed exaggerated. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  As he stepped back, part of me ripped away with him. “Don’t answer. I can wait, and I refuse to hurry your decision. Go do what you need to do, and tonight, when the sun sets, meet me at the front entrance of the Marketplace. We’ll find your prey and take him down.”

  He leaned in for another kiss, then stopped. When I moved toward him, he shook his head. “Not yet. Think it over, and then think it over again. The choice is yours. I want you, make no mistake about it. But you’re the one who has to extend the offer.” And then he turned and quickly slipped out the door.

  I caught up with Delilah and Menolly a few hours before dinner. Mother kept an anniversary clock from over Earthside on the mantel and though our time-telling system was different, we had learned both and used them interchangeably.

  We strolled down the street toward Lake Y’Leveshan, which was located at the southeastern end of the city. Midwinter and midsummer holidays were spent around the lake. Huge, it stretched so far, the other side was a distant blur. Boats dotted the surface, their crews angling for fish to sell in the markets.

  The shoreline was surrounded by lush vegetation. Long-bladed grass, knee high, grew thick around the lake, and the clearing was dappled with copses of maple and weeping willow, birch and rowan and wild camaz trees. The buzzing of gnats and bumblebees filled the air, along with the ever-present birdsong. A lazy spell held sway around the docks.

  Delilah swung herself into the lower branches of a nearby oak tree. She dangled her legs over the edge and brushed away a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “I love afternoons like this. I just hope the agency doesn’t find out we’re slacking.”

  “Who gives a damn?” I asked. “I don’t care anymore. They’re squeezing us by the balls. If they fire me, I’ll just say good riddance. But listen, I think I’m actually on the heels of Roche.”

  I wanted to tell them about Trillian, but somehow I didn’t think the news would go over big. Especially if Father found out. Maybe it was best to let it rest until I knew just how far this relationship was going to go.

  Menolly stretched out in the grass and propped herself up on her elbows. Her shift was loose and filmy, and her hair cascaded down her back. Nobody knew where her red had come from, but the copper curls gleamed in the sun as she closed her eyes against the warmth of the light.

  “I love days like today,” she said, sucking in a long, slow breath of summer. “It feels like the sun is sinking into my bones.” With a sigh, she added, “HQ wants me to scout the outskirts of the cave. I think I can hold them off for another few days or so—perhaps two weeks. But eventually, I’ll either have to finish the mission or quit. I wish I didn’t feel so bound to the damned job.”

  “You’re really are going to have to make up your mind pretty soon about what to do,” I said. “As for me, tonight I’m going to check out a clue to Roche’s whereabouts.”

  “You want company?” Menolly asked. “I’d be glad to go with you.”

  “Me too,” Delilah added. “I could use a night on the town.”

  I scrambled onto a flat boulder and crossed my legs, trying to think of a way to say no without making them suspicious. “Maybe…but don’t you have class tonight, Menolly?”

  She grunted. Menolly attended a twice-weekly intensive workshop for acrobats and gymnasts in the agency to keep in shape. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “And somebody better be home to eat dinner with Father. You know how he gets about family meals.” I glanced over at Delilah. She rolled her eyes but nodded. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry. Jahn’s helping me.” A little white lie, though technically Jahn had helped me. Or at least he’d tried to.

  Menolly darted a quick glance my way. “Jahn? Don’t tell me you’re taking up with that lecher? He’s been after you since you first hit womanhood.”

  I grinned at her. “Better not let Father hear you talk about Jahn that way. He thinks the man can do no wrong, and frankly, there are far worse businesses than being a nightclub and brothel owner. At least he treats the women under his roof with care and compassion. But you’re right. He’s been after me for a long time. He’s not my type, though. He’s sweet, but…no…” Jahn paled in comparison to Trillian.

  Delilah swung out of the tree, landing next to me. She kept her distance from the lake. Like a typical cat, my sister didn’t like water at all. When she was little, it had taken all of our mother’s threats of taking away her toys and pets to get her to bathe. She still viewed bath time as punishment rather than pleasure.

  She gazed over the water as the wind rustled the grass across the lea. “Do you think we’ll still be doing this in ten years? Will we all still be single, working for the agency, living with Father?” She sounded almost wistful.

  “I don’t know,” Menolly said, pushing herself to her feet. “I think I’m ready for change. Something different, you know? I feel like we’re marking time. Maybe I’ll marry Keris. Have children.”

  She’d been dating our neighbor for several months and things were heating up. He was Fae, but he didn’t care about her half-human blood or that she also loved women. They’d recently started talking in terms of the future.

  As I slid off the rock to stand beside them, something in the wind sent a shiver racing down my back. I closed my eyes, listening to the energy. A low rumble of static ran through the astral as a dark cloud rolled across my inne
r vision, reeking with the scent of fresh blood and flame and fear. As I stiffened, the echo of a shriek—long and drawn-out as if from far in the distance—washed over me. I staggered under the wave of malevolence and fell to my knees, forcing my eyes open.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Menolly knelt beside me.

  I glanced at her, then up at Delilah. All of the joy had drained out of the day, and the sun seemed harsh instead of nurturing. I shook my head. Though I didn’t understand it, the premonition had left me shaken and afraid.

  Sometimes my magic went awry, and sometimes my foresight was blurred. But this…This energy had crossed my grave. And I knew in my heart that—perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow—but that in the near future something was going to happen. Something we weren’t ready for, and wouldn’t welcome. Change was in the air, all right.

  THE market was a lot more risky at night when the thieves and muggers came out of the woodwork. Underage whores worked the crowds—runaways and orphans who were too afraid to brave the countryside where they might be able to hunt and forage for their food.

  Pickpockets slid through the throngs, looking for easy marks. Vampires occasionally roamed the streets, looking to put the bite on someone. The vamps were the most dangerous. Most of the bloodsuckers lost their consciences after a while, falling to their inner predator. Our father hated vamps—he’d witnessed his cousin being killed by one and barely escaped with his own life. The bloody memory stayed with him.

  I stood at the front entrance to the Marketplace, scanning the faces, looking for Trillian. I’d dressed to impress, a black sparkling bustier over a spidersilk skirt the color of a peacock’s feathers. A pair of leather gloves covered my hands, in black, up to the elbows. I’d worn a pair of my mother’s shoes—odd, high-heeled sandals made from leather with spiked heels and delicate straps. She’d had the same size feet as I did, and I’d claimed her shoe collection, since none of her clothes would fit me. I had also tucked her wedding dress away in my closet, secure in a wooden trunk filled with moth-repelling sachets. I was saving it for when Menolly got married—she’d fit in it no problem.