Chapter 15 #2
Kneading my fingers into my long skirt, I lifted it and pushed into a walk.
My heels clicked across the stone rooftop, the beat of the song matching my pace as I headed for the only free cluster of seating near the courtesans.
It took effort to ignore the godsdamned bone-hands stirring, the chains rattling against my chest like a weight.
There was a clear pathway between guests who milled around tall bar tables or sat in intimate groups. Servants flitted around pouring drinks or offering decadent morsels from silver trays, while others beat the air with fans woven from flax.
Yet even with all this pleasure on display, the men and women of my society were more interested in what was happening in the real Emporium.
Zielenski’s rooftop court was cut in half and separated from the Horned Gods’ realm by a long line of Corinthian columns reaching skyward, disappearing into the hazy mist hovering above.
Thick black vines studded with thorns crawled over the crumbling stone like tangling serpents.
The blooming flowers with petals of midnight seemed to be bleeding.
Blood-red droplets slipped off the petals to stain the pillars with tears of crimson.
And beyond the columns, held back by a barrier of magic like a glass wall, darkness swirled with splashes of lavender and indigo.
The Emporium’s guards watched everyone like hawks. They stood sentry along the columns, and the servants I’d seen in the kitchen cooler walked between the grooved pillars carrying silver platters of daintily sliced human flesh, mist swallowing them whole.
As I strode down the centerline of the court, I swore I heard a soft chuckle within the swirling dark.
A moan of pleasure.
A scream cut short.
Fright thudded in my chest like a terrified beast.
The wind, I lied to myself. Just the howling wind.
I continued onward, and those of the Upper Ranks nearest to me noticed my presence.
Heads turned my way. Gazes filled with intrigue slithered all over my body, and a shudder crawled down my spine at the unwanted attention.
The hum of chatter died into a hush, stillness settling over the court.
Curiosity smoldered as they watched me walk at the head of the Crowthers.
I held my bearing proudly, as if I wore a mantle and gown wrought from diamonds and gold, not this flimsy thing that revealed my figure beneath its sheer fabric.
I wasn’t afraid. No, I burned with icy rage.
No one would see me falter.
No one would see me tremble.
No one would see me rattle or bend or break.
Disgust churned as depraved eagerness lit their eyes when they noticed Furyos Bonefall encircling my throat.
A collective breath seemed to catch at the way the fingers curled, the twist of the bone chains as they swayed with my movement.
Then, finally remembering themselves and who I was, those seated rose.
As I swept by, everyone bowed.
I ignored every single fucking one and kept my gaze fixed on the seating near the courtesans’ dais. These theatrics were meant to draw attention from Jurgana to me. Indeed, I had to hand it to the Crowthers, it seemed to be working.
At the cracked edge of a stately column strangled by black vines, a pair of eyes flashed from the darkness. Vertical pupils widened, then narrowed, and a hand covered with downy white fur and black-tipped fingers cut through the shadowy mist, buffeting it aside in whirling clouds.
A moment later, they were gone.
I couldn’t stop the grin. Maybe the Crowthers would fail at this, too. Maybe the Horned Gods hadn’t requested a Goods Appraisal because I truly wasn’t of interest to them.
The chain of bones settled against my front as I halted beside a rattan chair.
But when I began to lower myself, Jett stopped me. “Ah-ah,” he said, wagging a finger with a smug smirk. “That’s not for you.”
My blood festered with rising anger. “Am I not allowed to sit?”
He pouted in mock sympathy. “You’ll be standing, Wychthorn. We can’t have you hiding away, not when you look so delightful.”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
He only laughed, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin.
When he gestured toward the dais, my mouth fell open. He wanted me seated with the courtesans? “This is a joke, right?”
“Not in the slightest.”
I swallowed, darting a quick look at the courtesans on display for the enjoyment of the Houses. “Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.”
Hissing through my teeth, I stomped past the prick, making my way to the collection of beautiful men and women lounging in shimmering silk with lust thickening the air.
I stepped up carefully onto the dais and tried to work out where I was going to sit and how to fend off those wandering hands as a few reached out to touch me.
“Right here,” Jett commanded.
My eyes rounded as he crooked a finger at me before stabbing it downward, pointing to a stone pedestal positioned at the edge of the dais, designed much like the end of a catwalk.
“We want everyone to get a good look at you. Zielenski agreed to sign you on temporarily as one of his courtesans. My brothers are out there gathering bids for whoever wants to pay the price of bedding you first.”
My knees buckled, and the breath whooshed out of my lungs.
What the hells?
I cast a look across the sea of people. Caidan and Kenton were already speaking with a few older men. My gaze snapped back to Jett. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. What it meant. “You wouldn’t…?”
The fucking asshole hitched a shoulder. “Oh, yeah. We would.”
I very nearly shrieked, “You’d dare put me to work at the Emporium?!”
“There’s time before the Witches Ball,” he replied casually, rubbing his chin as if contemplating playing the stock market, not whoring me out. “Might as well make some money on the side.”
My entire body shook with outrage.
Graysen wouldn’t allow this. Surely not.
But then, I realized with growing horror that Graysen wasn’t here.
He was down in the catacombs beneath Ascendria.