by A. K. Koonce
A dirty crowd of people, who are trading bread and fruit for blankets and clothes, stop their transactions the moment their beady little eyes land on the four of us.
A woman with creases along her withered features and deep brown eyes staggers nearer. Her hungry gaze watches us with too much interest. My shoulder bumps against Daxdyn’s as I move closer to him. Darrio’s heavy strides bring him between myself and the woman as Ryder walks close behind me, his steps almost brushing the back of my boots.
“The Hopeless,” she whispers in a dry, crackling breath.
My gaze darts down to their arms. All three fae have their sleeves pulled down over the slashing marks of the Hopeless.
How does she know?
“May they return to us and save us all.” Her hand rises as if she’s seeing a powerful god, as if she can shine in our passing. As if these three men could save her tarnished soul.
They cannot save us from this broken world.
No one can.
A tenseness fills my jaw as I begin to walk faster, my head tipped down to the dusty roadway. With intent, I make my way to the one house in particular.
The house stands among a group of deteriorating homes. The others are missing chunks of walls. The boards covering their windows are old and warped, but the familiar homes protect the families inside them all the same.
The one I’m walking to isn’t in shambles. It’s as close to residential perfection this world will ever know.
The three men look to one another skeptically and their skepticism only rises when my knuckles rap against the polished wood of the house facetiously numbered 6969. The white brick is immaculately clean. The little golden numbers above the door glisten even in the pale morning sunlight.
With ease, the door glides open and a woman with long blonde hair sways into view.
“Kara, my little honey squeeze. I haven’t seen you in nearly a year, my love.” Her thin arms wrap intimately around me, holding me to her plump chest that’s exposed over the tight corset of her silk gown. Her hand still drapes across my shoulders even after she pulls back from me. Her emerald eyes eat up every inch of the men behind me. “Who are your friends, Kara?”
I notice the way Daxdyn drags his gaze over my aunt, but the other two only offer kind smiles. Well, Ryder’s smiling. Darrio’s lips remain in a hard line across his stern face.
I haven’t taunted Darrio once since I saw him burn the majority of a man’s face off.
I’ve played nice.
Too nice.
“This is Daxdyn, Ryder, and Rio.” Darrio pins me with a glare at the sound of my introduction and I applaud myself internally for getting under his skin with three simple letters. “Guys, this is my aunt, Lady Ivory.”
Ryder’s brows pull low at the formal title my aunt loves to be called. In all honesty, her name’s Celeste. Celeste Storm. But Ivory Storm has a regal appeal. Full of beauty and prestige. Just like my aunt.
“Welcome to Saint’s Inn, gentlemen.” The purr in her voice hasn’t changed a bit in the last few years. Nothing about her has changed. She’s still as beautiful and kind as the day she took me in almost five years ago. “This is where the magic happens.”
I scoff when the word magic falls from her lips. She has no idea who she’s talking to with these three.
“Kara, can I have a word with you?” Ryder repeats my aunt’s nickname for me and he takes the few steps up to her beautiful home. His chest pushes against my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck.
The excited gleam in my aunt’s gaze shifts from Ryder to me and then back again.
I get the feeling sex is the only thing that ever fills her mind.
Part of me is irritated by her sex-filled life, and part of me is extremely jealous.
“Sure.” I slip out of my aunt’s embrace. I hate being touched, but somehow, it’s different with her. It makes me feel like my father’s still with me because I have her. I’d do anything for Ivory, and she’d do anything for me.
Lady Ivory watches us closely. She doesn’t even pretend to ignore us. Ryder takes a few steps away, his hand gripping mine as he leads me back down the small stairs. My fingers twitch against his. The warmth of his rough palm against mine does something strange to me. Something unnatural. A tingling feeling stirs within me and I quickly pull my hand from his.
“What the hell are we doing here, Kara?” His tone is stern and makes me cringe from the sound of it. “We should not be hanging around outside, in the middle of a village. My step mother will find us. She already knows we’ve escaped. We need to lie low.”
My arms fold across my chest. The cuffs along my forearms brush across my skin as I hold myself tightly.
“My aunt is the only family I have.” Again, I hate that I’m telling them this. “I will not just skip past her house without stopping in. You have poor manners for a Prince of Juvar.”
“Former Prince,” he corrects and it almost makes me smile.
His rejection of the title does something weird to me. It makes me entirely too happy. It makes me … like him. I like him for not wanting something most people would beg to have; a title, a feeling of importance, power.
“Would the former Prince of Juvar care to come inside for some breakfast.” My aunt places her hand on the curve of her hip and Daxdyn pushes past Ryder in an instant, their shoulders knocking slightly.
“Of course he would,” Daxdyn says in a smooth voice.
My aunt’s gaze ignites just looking at his beautiful face and I know exactly what she sees.
“You have the face,” her fingertips skim his abdomen, “and body of a high value escort.”
The easy demeanor he holds in his perfect posture fades just slightly as he seems to repeat her words in his head.
“Wh—what?” The ever-constant smile falls right off his face. It’s replaced with a confused look that makes Darrio laugh out loud. His rumbling laughter causes me to smile and I glance at him. Darrio darts his gaze from mine, the happiness tearing from his features.
Daxdyn’s pretty eyes are wide as he stares at my aunt with a new kind of awe in his gaze. Pushing past Ryder, I run to Daxdyn’s rescue. My boots skip up the steps until I’m at his side.
“They’re tired, Lady Ivory. Do not exhaust them further.” Gods above, please do not offer them anything embarrassing. My new friends don’t know this yet, but oral sex is considered a side dish here. They’re in for an awakening if we linger in this house. “I’m going to shower. Please be nice to my friends.”
“I’ll only treat them how I know you should be treating them, Kara.”
I cock an eyebrow at the serene smile resting on her beautiful face. A hint is laced through her careful words.
“Well, I’m an asshole to them. Please follow in my footsteps.” A tight smile forms on my lips.
Her red nails skim up Daxdyn’s bicep and his brows pull together as he looks at her hand there. Something appears to be swirling in his mind, I can tell. He must be real close to an understanding.
“They deserve a bit more than that, don’t you think?” my beautiful aunt pleads.
“No. No, they don’t.” I detach her palm from his arm and his mouth parts as he looks from me to her.
“Not even a teensie,” she parts her index finger and thumb as her lips form a perfect pout, “little bit?”
“Nothing.” My brows arch high as I emphasize that she is not to offer them a single sexual thing. “Do not offer them anything. Please.”
Why is it so hard to just not care? I shouldn’t care. What do I care if one of them or all of them gets the house special?
My jaw clenches just thinking about it.
The men stare at us in confusion, clearly listening to our banter but not understanding any of it.
Her lips thin. Not a line creases her face. Lady Ivory looks more like my sister than my aunt.
“Fine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be a terrible host. Is that what you want to hear?”
Slowly, I nod to her.
The tension in my shoulders falls like I just won a strenuous battle instead of a plea for a sexless night. It feels strange trying to protect them. Even if it’s only from my aunt’s deviant behavior. I just want to keep them safe. From her. From sex … with her.
What is wrong with me?
I roll my eyes at myself and begin climbing the glossy wooden stairs. A redhead in a tight corset and even tighter jeans passes me.
They’ll know. The three of them will know what this place is the moment they’re inside. I’ll be enjoying a long, hot shower by then. I refuse to worry about them any longer.
“Kara,” Lady Ivory’s sweet voice calls up the stairs to me and my back stiffens all over again at the sound of my name. “I have a red dress in the closet. You’ll like it. Stay for dinner, won’t you?”
Dinner. Saint’s Inn gets busy the moment the sun goes down. Staying for dinner would be … entertaining and slightly awkward.
“I’ll think about it.”
I don’t turn to her or say another word as my boots drag up the stairs. On the second floor, I pass two more beautiful women and they smile kindly at me. I don’t have the strength to give them a kind look in return.
I push the door to my aunt’s room open. High ceilings are cast in the white morning sunlight. The walls are a pretty shade of blue and are accented by stark white trim. A large four-poster bed, big enough for several people, sits in the center of the far wall.
She’s remodeled since I’ve been here.
In our society, there are very few things that prosper any more. Technology was long ago replaced by magic. Then magic was ripped away. The bones of society are all that’s left.
It’s hard to even find food now. But sex will always be in demand.
Dirt crumbles from my boots as I cross her luxurious white carpet. My fingertips trail over the glossy dresser before opening the bathroom door. I close it behind me and turn the small lock in place. Locks are something of an obsession with me. If one is available, it will be turned. I’d lock the whole world out if I could.
It becomes too clear to me how badly I need a shower. My blonde tresses are dry at the ends; coarse between my dirty fingertips. Turning the silver knob, the shower clicks on. Lady Ivory’s establishment is one of the few homes in town that has running water. This really is Saint’s Inn.
White steam drifts through the room and I relish in the feel of it warm against my skin as I begin to undress. Lastly, I unwrap the black cuffs against my forearms.
When I first came to my father’s sister for help, I had been alone on the streets for months already. I wore long gloves even then. She never asked, though I know she assumed they were to hide the self-inflicted pain I might be hiding. Those few months after he died were the hardest. I hated asking her for help. But she accepted me without question.
She’s one of the few people who have accepted me in my life.
I push the thoughts from my mind as I slip beneath the scalding hot water. It rains down on me in relaxing patters across my shoulder blades. My eyes drift closed from the feel of it slipping across my skin. Water droplets cling to my lashes as I watch charcoal colored water spin down the drain at my feet.
I take my time here.
An hour passes and I don’t give a damn. When I finish, I take my time combing through my pale locks. I apply my aunt’s lotions generously to every inch of my skin. A scent of vanilla now clings to my body and I want nothing more than to take a long and lazy nap.
The soft carpet greets my steps as I make my way back into her room. I shiver from the cold air against my damp skin. Opening her closet, I see the dress in an instant.
Long, crimson fabric demands my attention.
Of course she was right. I do like it. There was a time I wore nothing but the best. Smooth silk gowns were all that ever touched my skin. I haven’t worn a gown in years.
I pull the thin material from the hanger. The skirt is a single piece and the top is a much smaller piece. Yes, I like it very much.
The smooth dress skims up my thighs. I zip it up with ease and slip my arms into the top. It crosses over my shoulder blades and ties in a bow as if I’m a present to be opened. A two-inch sliver of my abdomen is exposed. The scar just below my ribs nearly peeks out.
Picking up my father’s sword, I consider how the dirty blade will look against the soft dress.
Not very practical, I suppose.
I consider the other few weapons I possess. I’d hate to prance around without some sort of protection.
A gentle knock brushes lightly against the oak doorframe and I jump from the small sound.
Daxdyn looks up from the doorway. His messy hair threatens to spill into his gray eyes.
His lips part without sound as his gaze burns across every inch of my body.
“Wow. You look…” Again his lips part without the assistance of words.
“Decent?” I ask with a smile.
The handsome smirk he always has fills his face. Dimples crease his cheeks making my knees go weak at the sight of them.
“Well, you’re no high dollar escort but, yeah, you look decent.”
I bite my lip to stop the smile from growing on my face. My feet are still bare and I cross the room to where he stands.
“Did you need something, Daxdyn?” If I’m being honest, the words are intentional. I can practically see the dirty thoughts slamming through his mind.
He tilts his head down to admire me closer. He towers over me without my shoes and I find myself wanting to lean into his hard chest.
He’s not built like the other two. He’s more lithe instead of bulky. He’s not skinny or wiry. The muscle tone is cut solid. It lines his body, as if he’s never eaten a single carb in his entire life.
“Your aunt said it’d be a good idea if I went and checked on you.”
I cock my brow at him. She’s ridiculous. She sent him up here with all her hopes and dreams that we’d be having sex by now.
She probably made a small sacrifice to the gods in the name of my orgasm.
Lady Ivory is that little devil some people have that whispers terrible ideas into their ear at the worst possible time.
She’s going to get him into trouble.
Does Daxdyn know that?
“This place is a whore house, isn’t it?”
His blunt words cause a bubble of laughter to part my lips. I swallow down the sound and nod. My eyes drift to his dusty black boots.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Zakara.” Carefully, he leans into the white doorframe, coming slightly closer to me.
“I’m not embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed.” Skepticism lines his brows as if he knows me better than I do. “She’s the only family I have and she’s the most successful woman I’ve ever met.”
“You should be proud. In this world, most women die without the protection of a man.” His fingers skim the inside of my wrist just lightly and I shift away from him and his affectionate touch. “You and your aunt are strong. Never be embarrassed by that.”
He leans into me even further and my spine stiffens from his closeness. He doesn’t reach out to me as he presses a kiss to my temple. Warmth sears through me from the small contact.
It’s then that I know he’s the one that held me close when I thought I was dying. A shiver races through my entire body.
Without another word, he brushes past me and heads toward the bathroom.
The door clicks shut behind him and I realize how loud my heart sounds in my ears.
Then I feel someone’s attention on me and I look up in time to see Darrio standing on the top step, staring at me with steely eyes.
“You kissed him too, huh?” His voice is all deep rumbles and sneering laughter.
My brows lower as I wrap my arms around myself. The dress no longer feels pretty. It feels weak. Exposing. Fragile.
“I didn’t kiss him, you demented asshole.” My eyes narrow on him and he takes his tim
e walking closer to me. His boots scuff across the shining hardwood floors of the hallway. Rage flies through me as a taunting smile touches his lips. His amusement only urges me on. “For the record though, when I do kiss him, I won’t push away from him. His touch won’t repulse me. I won’t flinch away from your brother, Darrio. I promise you I’ll enjoy it.” Every clipped word is spoken with vengeance. The shitty words he’s said to me since the moment we met are fueling my terrible anger.
He looks down on me. His wide shoulders fill the span of the doorway but I don’t shrink back from him.
“You really think you’re the first woman to reject me for my brother?” A low, gravelly sound fills his voice. It’s the same tone I thought was so sexy the first time he spoke. His head dips low until he’s right in my face. “You think you’re so fucking special, human? You’re not. You’re nothing.” Only an inch separates his lips from mine as he breathes out the last part on a whisper. “Just like me.”
My lower lip trembles as I stare up into his hard eyes. My own furious reflection is all that I see in his gaze. Our bodies are nearly touching; sparking with the anger fuming between us.
This reaction always floods through my body when it comes to him. This tingling fury that sets me on edge just because he’s near.
“I am nothing, Rio. But someday I’ll be happy. I’ll be loved. And you’ll still be alone. Alone and an asshole.”
My heart claws at my chest, demanding I push him even further.
Reaching back, I grip the handle and slam the door in his face. I feel it bang into his head as it closes with a jarring sound.
The groan he emits from the other side of the door causes my lips to pull up in a small, satisfied smile.
Darrio is a cruel man, but he’s not the worst I’ve ever met. He’ll have to dig a little deeper if he expects to get a real fight out of me.
With burning rage, I pull on soft gloves. They’re extravagant and caress my upper arms. They make me feel better.
The expensive material reminds me of a time when I wasn’t just nothing. When I had hopes and dreams and a life worth living.
When I was more than just a thief.
Chapter Seven