Chapter 11 Lyx
ELEVEN
Lyx
Lyx shakes a scorpion from her boot. “I only have until sunset.”
This is the first port the Indulgence has docked in since Lyx boarded three days ago.
Out here, the terrain is rough and dense.
It’s nothing like the streets and shops of the town proper, but of course, Tidus expected her to find him in the overgrowth.
His sloop is moored in a tiny cove hidden from the rest of the island, the boat’s ragged blue flag growing more bleached in the sun.
Tidus reclines beneath a tree and tips back his dented tankard. “Don’t rush me.” As if he didn’t expect her prompt appearance. As if he wouldn’t be furious if she lost her spot on the ship. Lazily, he swirls the drink in his cup. “Were you followed?”
“What do you think?”
His eyes cut toward her. It’s risky mouthing off to him, but she’s walked for nearly half an hour to reach this spot, tripping through mud and bramble bushes. Sunlight sears across her bare arms and bakes in the dirt and scratches. Tidus can handle a little bit of fucking attitude.
Not to mention she’s parched, and not just from the heat.
It’s been days since she’s been this close to her song; the shell in Tidus’s chest glows like it’s straining to reach her.
Being near it is enough to loosen the knot in her chest, but that relief is forgotten as soon as Tidus touches her wrist.
“You look faded.” He runs his jagged thumb over her skin and digs his fingernail under a loose scale. “Don’t they feed you on that boat?”
She jerks away. It’s not food he means. Given the Indulgence’s area of expertise, she expected far more disorder, but the ship runs like a well-oiled machine.
Racy sounds pitch through the walls, but nothing juicy.
When there’s a disagreement, it’s only mild bickering.
Where’s the cheating? The threats? The brawling?
Without them, Lyx’s coloring has faded and dulled.
That was never an issue on Tidus’s ship.
“Didn’t Heathen put you to work in her whore ship?” Tidus toys with the slit in Lyx’s long skirt and pulls her down into his lap. “How many customers have had the pleasure of siren pussy?”
It sounds like the idea thrills him, but she knows better. He only likes the thought of tormenting her; he hates the idea of “sharing.” If she confessed to providing her services, Tidus’s entire demeanor would change. “I’m not servicing customers. I’m working with Cavalier.”
Tidus’s brow quirks unremarkably.
Her jaw clicks. Three days, and he still can’t remember Cav’s name. “Your chatty dragon.”
Tidus tips back his head and laughs. “That’s what Heathen wanted you for? To keep her cabin boy’s dick wet?”
“He’s not —” Lyx blows out a breath. Why bother explaining intricacies when Tidus clearly doesn’t care? “No. Heathen’s collecting something else from me.”
Tidus skims his palm up her thigh. “I’m not giving you any money.”
“It’s not money. It’s pleasure.”
“Pleasure?” His lip curls. He gropes the meat of her hip. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Great Abyss, these constant questions are getting to her. Even in the shade, her skin is dry and tight, made more stifling by Tidus’s insistent touching. Her blouse slips off her shoulders. A fly buzzes near her ear, and she swats it away.
Tidus grabs her chin. “Answer me.” His grip tightens to bruising. “Is Heathen fucking you? Is that what it is?”
“No!” she splutters, fighting his grip. “Depths, what is your obsession with her?” She can’t escape Tidus’s hold, but she needs to temper both their fury.
Fingers flexing, she snatches the tankard from his hand.
She’d like to slam it into the side of his head, but that wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
She lifts the mug to her nose and gags at the heavy scent.
Of course it’s ale. It’s the only drink he keeps on his boat, despite how much she hates it.
It doesn’t matter; her throat is aching.
With a grim look, she drains the cup and tosses the tankard to the ground.
Tidus’s eyes flash. He releases his hold on her face, but when she wrenches away, he jerks her back by her bodice instead. His gnarled fingernails tear through the fabric, his ale-stained breath hot on her face. “That’s not an answer.”
The laces constrict her lungs. “What do you want?” Her mind is a rabid creature, searching for whatever words will make him stop. “I don’t know how they collect pleasure! When I got onboard, Heathen took some of my scales for the contract. I don’t know what happens after that.”
The bodice crushes her ribcage. His nails dig into her skin. He doesn’t release her. Not until she gets a good look at the warning in his eyes – then, he shoves her away. “Get back to the ship, then. Find out how the fuck she’s doing it.”
Her sudden breath and chaos leave her head spinning.
This sudden feeding is enough to make her sick, but she swallows down the urge to vomit.
No matter how she suffers, Tidus’s unpredictability always gives her what she needs.
A brilliant purple color seeps across her legs, but Tidus doesn’t look at her when she leaves.
By the time she reaches the port, it’s late. The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the Indulgence’s lanterns shining like beacons. The deck of the ship jostles with a party in full swing. On the docks, a crowd has gathered, craning their necks while they wait for their turn to board.
No one is looking for Lyx. Her brows lift in surprise. She’d expected Captain Heathen to go back on their word and advertise the prized siren, but instead, only a few customers glance at her as she elbows her way up the gangplank.
Crew members wait at the top, collecting coins or holding out glass jars.
The guests pluck their eyelashes or feathers and drop them inside.
Lyx needs to see where those jars go. With a grunt, she squeezes onto the ship and follows a tray of full jars across the deck — until a tattooed arm blocks her way.
Cypher glares down at her, the bird on her shoulder tilting its head in indictment. “Where have you been?”
Lyx lifts on her toes, but the jars are already disappearing below deck. With a hiss, she shoves Cypher’s arm away.
Cypher’s jaw ticks above her black neckerchief. For fuck’s sake, it’s hot enough already; is that why she’s so pissy? “Sunset was the cutoff,” Cypher emphasizes. “You’re late.”
“And I’m here now.” If Cypher won’t budge, neither will Lyx. She plants her feet, glaring up at Cypher until the woman presses her mouth into a thin line. Cypher’s not going do shit, even if she wants to. That’s a flaw Lyx can work with.
Smugly, Lyx turns toward the hatchway to make her way below deck.
“Has Cav collected your pleasure payment?”
Lyx’s eye twitches. She keeps her back turned when she responds, “Yes.”
“You’re lying.”
Lyx’s body bristles. The air is sweltering. Everyone who speaks to her is an asshole. She lost her first lead on this ship, and the gaping absence of her song has opened up again. How much more can she take?
When she turns back to Cypher, Lyx’s smile is sharp. “Nosy bitch, aren’t you?”
Cypher’s nostrils flare. The crow flaps in alarm, but Lyx isn’t deterred. She lunges, but then, two warm hands curl around her shoulders from behind.
“Just the person I was looking for.” Despite Cav’s breezy voice, he’s purposeful as he leads her away from the fight. Only once they’re out of Cypher’s line of sight does he stop moving Lyx along. “I see you’ve found the time to make enemies.”
Lyx pries away from him, snatching a drink from the nearest tray. “It’s not like I’m going to make friends.” She takes a long swig, but it lacks the burn of liquor. She scowls.
“One of Heathen’s recipes,” Cav confirms. “Strong enough to loosen inhibitions, but not enough to get you drunk. Important distinction for a pleasure house.”
Yet another way to stave off chaos. With a roll of her eyes, Lyx sets the drink on a barrel and moves toward the railing.
Cav picks up her abandoned drink. “You know, if you were trying to get drunk, you could have done it at the pub.”
“I didn’t need a drink until I got back here.”
He sidles up next to her. “Then what have you been doing since we made port?”
His words aren’t as hostile as Cypher’s, but it’s not an innocent question. Cav is looking for something. Lyx narrows her eyes. There’s no way he can suspect what she’s up to. She won’t incriminate herself. Let him throw out the allegation if he wants.
But when he speaks, it’s not an accusation. “If your ex is chasing you, you need to be careful. You shouldn’t go off on your own.”
So that’s what this is about. With a sigh, she leans her elbows back against the railing. “As much as you relish interfering in what I do, I only have to deal with you during the experiment. I can handle the rest of my time. Alone.”
“Is that how your dress got ripped?”
Only now does she recognize the breeze against her stomach.
The hole from Tidus is bigger than she realized, uneven and jagged.
Cav watches her expression closely. She’s missed her opportunity to pretend to be surprised, so instead, she flexes her fingers and looks out across the deck. “Must have caught on a loose nail.”
It’s obvious she’s lying. It’s pathetic attempt, but Cav doesn’t call her out. He lifts his hand to the damage, slipping past the fabric to brush the marks Tidus left on her skin.
Despite herself, she shivers.
Cav outlines the hole with the tip of his claw. “Doesn’t look like a snag.”
His voice is dangerously soft. She has to pull away, still tingling when bumps prickle along her arms. She needs to think about something else — anything else – so she scans the rest of the ship.
It’s clear the Indulgence is built for show, its sails and decor more opulent than any normal vessel.
Along the taffrail, an assortment of carved creatures drape around closed clamshells.
The atmosphere and dim lighting add an air of sensuality, but aside from the decor, the rest of the party is tame.
Everyone chats and laughs, but there’s hardly any physical contact.
Most of the crew remains standing, as if their flirtation is constrained to glances alone.
It’s unlike any of the brothels Lyx has been to.
Everyone seems comfortable, but they’re almost… hesitant.
“Why do customers come here?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Why don’t they visit a pleasure house on the island? Surely the experience isn’t that different.”
“They can’t.” Cav finishes off the drink and sets it aside. “We visit ports that don’t have their own brothels. Either the government blocks them, or the population’s too small, or some other reason. That’s why people come to the Indulgence.”
Lyx tugs out a cord from her belt and gathers her curls atop her head. Finally, the night breeze begins to cool her neck. “Nothing about this looks very indulgent.”
Cav sighs and leans back against the railing. “You’re not wrong.” Then a mischievous smile flashes across his lips. “Maybe it’s time we spice things up.”
Heat coils in her gut. She hasn’t forgotten that time is ticking on this venture they agreed to. In truth, she’s been thinking about it since the morning she boarded. Remembering how close he was, how his body looked beneath his clothes…
How he refused to fuck her.
Not that she cares. Not that it matters, because he won’t be able to stick to it. Of the two of them, it’s Cav who’ll be begging to give her everything.
Nerves flutter in her stomach, but she resists them, keeping her face passive as she looks across the party again.
This will be simple and fast. She’s a siren; she knows how to wrap things up quickly.
With a heavy sigh, she pushes off the railing and moves toward the hatchway. “Let’s get it over with, then.”
She makes it down the third step before he calls after her, “Not down there.”
When she turns back, he looks positively pleased with himself. His tail weaves behind him in a hypnotizing motion she tries not to follow. Why does she feel off-balance? She grips the banister to keep from slipping, like it’s her first day on land.
Cav tilts his head toward the center mast. “We’re going up.”