by Ailx Nichols
It was just so he didn’t have to live in sin.
Mother Vada jumped to her feet, pulled out a chair for Haysi, and ordered another drink.
“That was some hot shaking you did there, pretty whore,” Ultek said to Haysi.
“Haysi’s an accomplished dancer, Your Grace,” Vada offered in a honeyed tone. “She’s also a gifted artist and businesswoman. Her tattoo parlor is adjacent to my establishment.”
Haysi could almost hear Vada’s brain hum as it computed different scenarios and resulting options. What if Ultek wasn’t here to arrest her girls or to racketeer her? What if he was here for Haysi? What if she could turn this situation around and take advantage of it?
“So, she’s an independent harlot, then, working from her own shop?” Ultek turned to Vada to show the question was for her.
Haysi bristled. Why did he act as if she couldn’t hear them or answer for herself? Correction—as if he didn’t give a damn if she could? Her heart sank. From his words and the way he leered at her, it was unlikely he’d be willing to help unfortunate harlots affected by the Pox Bill. Or, if he was, he’d ask for a price Haysi wasn’t prepared to pay.
“I’m surprised you and your pimps allow that kind of competition,” Ultek said to Vada. “Wouldn’t that give your own harlots ideas?”
Vada shifted in her seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief Ultek. My establishment provides massage and entertainment, nothing more.”
Ultek roared with laughter.
“Anyway,” Vada said, her tone obsequious again, “Haysi here isn’t a harlot. Her late mother was, but not her.”
He leaned forward. “What, she’s never sold her body?”
“Never.”
Haysi stood. “As much as I’m enjoying your polite conversation, I must take my leave.”
“Sit!” Ultek barked before schooling his features into a more pleasant expression.
Haysi remained on her feet.
He pointed to the drinks on the table. “Finish your ale at least before you go.”
“Sit down,” Vada hissed to her.
Reluctantly, Haysi slumped into her chair.
“Tell me about your tattoo parlor,” Ultek said while she swigged her ale. “Does it have private rooms?”
She set her glass down. “Sorry to disappoint you, Chief Ultek, but my parlor is what it says on the door sign: a tattoo shop. No private rooms. No private services.”
To her surprise, Ultek beamed. “You aren’t disappointing me at all, sweetass! Quite the contrary.”
He looked pleased.
What the hell? Assuming he was interested in Haysi, shouldn’t he be annoyed at being rebuffed?
She glanced at Vada, looking for a cue, but the brothel owner’s expression was perplexed. Probably just as perplexed as her own right now.
“Tell me about your clients,” Ultek spoke again. “Anyone wealthy and prominent? Anyone I would know?”
She shook her head.
“What about your protector, the man who’s bankrolling your little shop?” He gave her a meaningful look.
“She doesn’t have a protector,” Vada said quickly. “She’s a self-made woman. Very independent.”
Ultek turned to Haysi, gleeful. “Is that so, sweetass?”
Haysi said nothing, defiance in her gaze.
He stroked his bushy mustache. “Family? Children?”
“None,” Vada said.
“Wonderful.” He leaned on the back of his chair and pushed his big belly out. “Bloody wonderful.”
And then, without a warning or a goodbye, he sprang up and strode from the show hall.
Haysi turned to Mother Vada. “What was that about?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
Haysi rushed to the parlor, praying to find Maggi upstairs in his room. To her delight, he was there, cooking dinner with Lippin.
She recounted to them her strange conversation with Ultek before asking, “What do you think he wants from me?
Looking up from the stove, Maggi gave her a you-know-what look.
“Sexual favors?” She shrugged with feigned bravado. “Won’t be the first lecher to think I’m low-hanging fruit. Luckily, I have ample experience handling such situations.”
“Except he’s the chief of Eia’s police force,” Lippin said. “Don’t underestimate him, or the danger you’re in.”
Maggi set plates on the table. “If I were you, I’d get out of here.”
“Out of where? The parlor?” Haysi fetched the cutlery. “Lanterns?”
“The Central District,” Lippin said.
Maggi nodded.
She waved them off. “You’re overreacting.”
“If I were you,” Maggi said. “I’d take all my cash, jump on a coach tonight, and get my ass as far away from Orogate and Iltaqa as I could.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious, Haysi.” He dashed to his room and returned with a small purse, which he set on the table in front of her. “Take my money, too. It’s not much, but it’ll come in handy.”
She frowned, pushing the purse away. “Please, you’re blowing this all out of proportion!”
“In light of what you told us, your best course of action is to hole up for a while.” Lippin poured everyone water before adding, “A long while.”
By next morning, Haysi had reconsidered her refusal to run away. In the shower, she’d made up her mind. She was going to heed her friends’ advice. She was going to leave the Central District and lie low.
Replaying in her mind what Chief Ultek had said to her last night, it did sound like he might come back with a proposition. Once he did, she doubted he’d take no for an answer.
Eia’s police chief was simply too dangerous to shrug off.
Yesterday’s events also shed new light on Iyatt’s refusal to introduce her to Ultek. Perhaps now he’d tell her more. He was stopping by this afternoon so she could check his arm tattoo. They both knew he’d stay the night.
She smiled at the thought.
Iyatt would help her, Haysi was sure of it. He’d find a safe place for her somewhere far away. He might even take her to that place.
With all his rigid principles and high standards and set ideas, there was something infinitely endearing about him, something glorious that made her heart sing.
Actually, it was many things. His dashing looks made her heart race. His passionate lovemaking made her core clench with need every time she recalled their nights on Norbal. Iyatt was loyal. He was estranged from his family but cared deeply for other people—Unie, of course, but also the vestals and the children in his orphanage, his friends on Norbal… and her, Haysimina Lommen, a Lanterns girl.
Iyatt wouldn’t admit it, perhaps not even to himself, but Haysi knew it was more than sex between them. She had enough experience with men to know that.
Her spirits rising, she dried off.
Who knew, maybe one day, when he’d see how steady her heart was and how much she cared for him, he’d mellow a little more. Maybe one day he’d propose again, for the right reasons.
Heading downstairs, she pictured them in a relationship much like Maggi and Lippin’s. Tender, supportive, filled with mutual respect and trust. And with love.
“Eat some sour fruit,” Maggi said to her when she stepped into the front room. “If you keep grinning like this your mouth will tear.”
He wore makeup, a long gown and a pink wig. She glanced at the clock. More than an hour until their first client was due. Lippin must have left at dawn, as was his habit. Maggi was bored. And when Maggi was bored, he cross-dressed.
“We don’t have any sour fruit.” She began to check the tattoo room equipment as she did every morning. “How about you brew us some strong kawa?”
Brightening up to have something to do, Maggi went to the table with the kawa bag, grinder and pot.
That was when the banging began.
“Police! Open up!” men shouted outside.
&
nbsp; Haysi ran to the front room.
Maggi clutched the kawa grinder. “What do we do?”
“Open the door or we’ll knock it down!”
The cops were hitting the door really hard now.
“We better open,” Haysi said.
Maggi yanked his wig off. But he still wore layers of makeup and a dress.
“They can’t see you like this.” She pointed to the broom closet. “In there, now!”
He dug his heels in. “I’m not leaving you alone with them.”
“Go to the broom closet, scrub your face, get into the cleaning coveralls, and then join me.” She stomped impatiently. “Please! There’s no need to make this worse.”
Maggi darted to the broom closet.
“I don’t want to see a trace of lipstick or eyeliner on your face,” Haysi called to his back. “Understood?”
“Yes!”
She went to the door and opened it.
There were four burly men on the doorstep. Wearing sleek black uniforms and helmets, they looked very different from the regular cops who came in Lanterns to nab harlots. These were in another league.
“How can I help you, officers?” Haysi asked with as much composure as she could muster.
They barged in.
“We received a report about poor sanitary conditions in your parlor,” one of them said.
She forced a polite smile. “That’s strange because I had an inspection as recently as last week, and they found my place spotless.”
“They weren’t thorough enough,” another black uniform retorted before leading the way into the back room.
Haysi followed them.
“Look at what I found!” The same man held up what looked like a dishrag. “Your needles were wrapped in this.”
Haysi stared at the piece of cloth. It was dirty and stinky—and most definitely not hers.
“I keep my needles in a special box, and I boil them—”
He cut her off. “Spare us your lies.”
“We all saw the same thing,” one of his colleagues said. “Needles wrapped in a dirty, germ-infested piece of cloth.”
Haysi knew this was it even before they told her she was under arrest. There was no point arguing. They’d come prepared with “evidence” in their pockets. The normal sanction for poor hygiene would’ve been to shut down her parlor, but these cops didn’t give a damn about her parlor or hygiene. They’d come for her.
From there, things went even faster than before.
The uniforms handcuffed, gagged, and blindfolded her. She was hauled outside and shoved into what sounded like a motor vehicle. They drove a short distance. When the vehicle came to a halt, the men carried her out, into a building, and down two flights of stairs with her feet dragging against the steps.
When there were no more steps, someone greeted her captors, before saying, “We’ll take it from here.”
Other hands grabbed her. She heard a rush of footsteps as the men who’d captured her headed back upstairs. Metal scraped on metal and a door creaked. She was dragged again. Behind her, the door closed with a loud clunk. Haysi heard bolts sliding home.
The men pushed her down on her knees and removed her blindfold.
Squinting, Haysi looked around.
What she saw turned the fear constricting her chest into dread. The door was just as she’d imagined it, heavy and huge with many locks and bolts. She was in a stuffy, bare, poorly lit room. Craning her neck, she looked for windows but saw none. The wall behind her had chains, collars, cuffs and straps secured to it at various heights.
For what? For whom?
Haysi shuddered, surveying the guards who held her down. Three stocky, smelly, flabby men. They looked nothing like the black uniforms who’d arrested her. But they did remind her of someone. A police chief, to be exact. The man who’d ordered her arrest.
Someone wheezed on her left.
She turned toward the faint noise, realizing that the basement was irregular-shaped and much larger than she’d assumed. A big area was separated from the rest of the room by sturdy metal mesh to form a pen of sorts. The space behind the mesh was dark and filled with people.
Three figures, female figures, stood at the mesh wall, their fingers clutching the thick wires.
They stared at Haysi. Their red leather clothing, in what it covered and what it revealed, was obscener than the worst harlot outfit Haysi had seen in Lanterns. It didn’t flatter these women. It wasn’t designed to celebrate their femininity. Instead, the clothing reduced it to a unique purpose.
It was designed to deny they were sentient beings.
A few more women were curled up on the floor or sat on pallets by the walls, hugging their knees. Some sniffled. A couple hacked, covering their mouths.
Suddenly, the dark-haired woman clutching the mesh screamed at the top of her voice. The guards ordered her to shut up. But she wouldn’t. When she began to rattle the mesh, a guard burst into the pen and punched her in the stomach.
She fell back, grimacing in pain. “I’ll kill you, Kanwo! And the other two! And your boss. I’ll kill him a thousand times!”
The guards guffawed. “Ooh, I’m so scared! I think I wet my pants!”
Back on the other side of the mesh, Kanwo feigned concern. “We’ll be sure to tell Chief Ultek he can’t play anymore, because his toys threatened to kill him.”
Another roar of laughter reverberated around the room.
On Kanwo’s command, the guards removed Haysi’s gag and handcuffs. She tried to kick and bite them, but she was quickly overpowered. They carried her to the wall where they shackled her ankles and wrists.
“Why am I here?” she asked, even if she knew the answer.
To her surprise, Kanwo deigned to reply. “Blame it on the upcoming Endorsement Vote. No more sweet virgins for the boss, and he won’t do whores.”
“Can’t get it up for them, you see,” the second guard interjected.
“But you,” Kanwo continued, “You’re perfect. Not a whore but not exactly respectable either. No parents or children to cry for you, no community to comb the neighborhood and bug the police daily for updates.”
The second guard flashed her a cold smile. “Your friends are harlots. They’re too scared of cops since the Pox Bill. They won’t even dare to report you missing.”
“When I told Chief Ultek about you and he checked you out, he couldn’t believe his luck,” Kanwo said.
“Why do you bother explaining all this to her?” the third guard asked him.
“Because it’s one of my favorite parts.” Kanwo’s piercing eyes drilled into Haysi’s.
“When they realize what awaits them?” his colleague asked.
“When their faces blanch and their eyes begin to tear,” Kanwo said. “When panic makes them shake. When it hits them that they’re going to die in this place.”
Twenty-One
They arrived after dark.
Iyatt opened the door as soon as he heard the motor vehicle pull in. His heart thundered in his chest. His hands shook. As an accomplished Rateh master, such failure to control his body was new to him.
As he greeted Timm, Lippin and Maggi, he surveyed their solemn faces, trying to gauge the nature of the news they brought. It wasn’t going to be good. He already knew that. The question was how bad it would be. Bracing himself, he motioned the men in.
Lippin and Maggi headed down the hallway, but Timm remained on the doorstep.
“She’s alive, my friend,” he said, touching Iyatt’s shoulder.
Iyatt’s shoulders relaxed as he savored the sweet word and what it meant. Alive. But his exaltation didn’t last long. Haysi’s being alive didn’t mean she wasn’t in trouble.
Iyatt had a theory about what had happened. With the Endorsement Vote less than six months away, her spirited campaign against the Pox Bill must’ve become too much of a nuisance for the caretaker governor. His minions must’ve taken her in for some rough “questioning.” They’d no doubt threaten her or,
worse, beat her.
Another possibility was that she’d gone into hiding after being tipped off. Except, why hadn’t she told him anything?
Why didn’t she ask for my help?
Iyatt stared into Timm’s eyes. “Do you know where she is?”
“Lippin and Maggi will tell you.”
“And you…?”
“I’m heading back to Iltaqa to do some recon. We’ll need it when… They’ll explain everything, all right?” He pointed to his motor vehicle. “Will you move that baby into the shed out back?”
“Aren’t you going to drive back to Iltaqa?”
“No. I’ll fly.”
With that, Timm pulled on some hidden fastenings on his clothing and spread his impressive wings. “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t leave here without me!” he called as he flew off.
Bursting into the main room, Iyatt strode over to Lippin and Maggi. “Talk. What do you know? Where is Haysi?”
After a false start, Lippin sucked in a breath and shut his mouth as if looking for the right words.
“The special unit took her,” Maggi blurted out.
Iyatt went stiff. “What? Are you certain?”
“He saw it with his own eyes,” Lippin said for his friend.
Maggi nodded. “I was hiding in the broom closet—err, long story—when Chief Ultek’s elite cops raided the parlor. I heard everything and saw quite a bit through the keyhole. They took her away.”
“Then she might be at the Iltaqa Police Station,” Iyatt said, aware it was a wish spoken aloud more than a realistic assessment.
“I doubt it.” Maggi gnawed at his nails. “I believe they took her straight to Ultek’s house.”
Iyatt shuddered at the implications. “You believe or are you sure, based on what you overheard?”
“I’m sure.”
Iyatt tipped his face to the ceiling and exhaled slowly before leveling his gaze with Maggi’s. “I’m going there.”
“Wait!” Lippin grabbed his arm. “We should wait for Timm. His intel will be priceless.”
He was right. If Iyatt wanted to get Haysi out of Ultek’s infamous basement, he needed that information.
He began to pace the room.
Think. Think!