CHAPTER FOUR
“Well, well, well.” Finlay strolled into my room a moment later. No doubt Kienan had just been to his door as well, dragging Rowan out. My friend’s skin was flushed and glowing, his blond hair mussed in a well-fucked manner—one I’d seen many times.
“Successful night?” I asked, lightly.
“Very.” He grinned. “Gods, I love redheads.” He blew air from his lips, his eyes distant and lovelorn. “Especially Lord Rowan. The way he moved. The endowments he came with. Worth every penny.”
“He paid you.”
“And I was so fucking worth it,” Finlay laughed, slapping his hand across his belly. “And how about you, my love?”
“I am also in possession of a hefty purse.”
Finlay’s eyes narrowed in on it from across the room, before bringing his attention back to me, his expression full of scrutiny. He rubbed his chin. “You look … rather well-put together.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that your way of saying I don’t look well-fucked.”
Finlay scoffed. “I would never tell you that you don’t look pretty.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said primly.
“You just look, you look ….”
My mouth tightened.
Finlay shrugged and offered me an abashed smile. “You look beautiful, Sam.”
“I know,” I said carefully, not wanting to admit to anything.
I trusted Finlay. To an extent. Not enough to tell him what I was.
But enough that I knew he wouldn’t report me to Geoffrey about what I did or didn’t in my room.
Still, I had to be careful. Geoffrey’s Azete abilities meant he could smell a lie from the other end of the tavern and could as easily arouse the emotions of anyone who worked for him, enough to read their mind.
It was better to focus on what I had achieved than what I hadn’t.
Maybe Brennan and I hadn’t fucked—we hadn’t even kissed.
Though he’d paid me as if we had. As if we had several times.
But more importantly… “He’s coming back tomorrow. ”
“I know.” Finlay licked his lips. “Rowan, too. Mmmmm. Paid enough to last me a month. I think I deserve a celebratory drink.” He held out his arm for me to take. “Care to join me?”
A dark shadow loomed in the doorway. Geoffrey. Fuck.
“I’ll meet you down there,” I said, watching our boss enter my bedroom. “Just want to get cleaned up first.”
Shit. My stomach twisted. I’d meant to empty Brennan’s purse on my own, to hide more than my usual cut from Geoffrey so I could go ahead with at least part of my plan.
The benefit of there having been no negotiation between him and Brennan was that there’d been no discussion of a price.
He’d never know exactly what Brennan had left me.
But he’d come up here too fast. He’d probably had the same thought. Had probably expected he’d overpaid. Expected I’d take a bigger cut.
Finlay’s mouth tightened at the intrusion, as well as at my lie. He knew I didn’t need to get cleaned up, and now, so did Geoffrey. But my friend nodded to the tavern owner in deference.
Geoffrey jingled a purse in his face, made of fine leather, cut in the same style as Brennan’s. But this was one just a little smaller. “You’re good for the night, Finlay. I left your cut on your nightstand.”
“Thank you.” Finlay’s jaw clenched, but then he was gone.
Geoffrey slammed my door shut behind him and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “That was a rather short visit,” he said, but his eyes had already zeroed on Brennan’s purse. “Did you do as you were told?”
“And what if I didn’t?” I asked. “Are you going to threaten me again with a boxing? Or is sending me back to the witch queen more your style?”
“Just hand me my money, and we can put this nastiness behind us.”
My nostrils flared. That would never happen. But I also knew that another fight with Geoffrey wouldn’t end well for me. The truth was, the mere act of being in Eskalon was dangerous for someone of my bloodline.
Centuries had passed since we’d migrated to the continent of Eley, since we were forced to settle beyond Eskalon’s borders, driven across the mountains and woods into the wilds.
Because centuries earlier, the Goddess Orsete prophesied an event known as the Doom, a catastrophic event that destroyed our ancestral land.
The witches had escaped long before it happened, but hundreds of thousands remaining behind had not been so lucky.
Eskalon feared us the moment our boats arrived on their shores.
And that fear never went away. It remained so powerful to this day that they feared us merely crossing their borders.
Under King Tirian’s rule, the fear had become a kind of hysteria.
Any woman at any time could be accused of being a witch.
And every single day I spent in Eskalon, dancing, seducing and deceiving each man about my true nature, had been a day I’d played with fire.
And yet, knowing that danger, I feared going home even more. Feared my people, feared facing what I’d done. Once again, I was so cruelly reminded that as Godsdamned awful as Geoffrey was, I still needed him.
So I marched over to the table, picked up the purse, feeling its full weight, and hurled it at his chest. I conjured the smallest bit of extra muscle with my release. He caught it with a small, pained oomph, taking a surprised step back. That alone had been worth the loss of energy
“There,” I snarled. “Happy?”
“Samara,” he warned. “I’m trying to be nice.”
I scoffed. “I think we have very different definitions of the word nice.”
“Do we? Is it not nice that I let you live here under my roof, while I keep your secrets? That I keep you safe from boxings, and your own people? That I gave you an outlet for your special abilities to thrive? To obtain and feed upon the kind of nourishment that someone like you requires?” He licked his lips, his eyes darkening.
“All I asked for in return was that you follow the Godsdamned rules of the establishment. Yet despite knowing you’re unwelcome in every other corner of this world, you seem hell-bent on losing your place by defying me.
Don’t forget that I understand you in a way no one else can.
Don’t forget that I am like you.” He mouthed the word Demonos, his lips curled into a sneer, taking another step toward me.
“So maybe, just maybe, lose the fucking attitude.” Geoffrey lifted the purse, jingling the coins inside.
“And,” his eyes dipped lasciviously down my body, “considering the state of you, the next words out of your mouth better be to tell me that he’s coming back tomorrow, that he’s going to spend this much again, or I’m keeping every last cent for your debt. ”
My stomach twisted. “He’s coming back tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Good girl. Now we wait and see if he makes good on his word. He better. For your sake. For everyone's sake. Until then, until you prove you’re earning your keep, this is mine. All of it. You’ll need to find another way to get your cut for the night.”
The Godsdamned prick. I’d danced for a fucking hour for him—that alone deserved some coin. I sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to yell. “Am I done here?”
Geoffrey took a long, slow stroke of his black beard. It looked especially oily in the torchlight, and I wondered if it was his natural state, as an Azete, he somehow preferred looking like a greased-up asshole.
He shrugged. “I suppose you’ve at least earned a break for the night. Don’t want to send you back down to the riffraff now. Especially after who they saw you leave with.” He winked.
Of course. He thought by keeping me up here, everyone would be convinced I was more expensive, as if my companionship wasn’t expensive already. But it was more than I thought he’d offer, and the idea of seeing more men was unthinkable, so I nodded.
“Rest up for tomorrow. You’re going to need it.
” With that, he retreated from the room.
I locked the door, waiting until I heard his footsteps vanish at the end of the hall.
Then I unhooked my bra, letting it crash to the ground, followed by the rest of my jewelry, skirt, and underthings.
I was exhausted, in more ways than one. And all I wanted was to be alone.
So I drew myself a bath—one of the benefits of working at the tavern.
The plumbing in the town worked well. Sinking into the water’s warmth, my muscles aching from dancing all night, I tried desperately to steady my heart, as well as the coiled-up thing that lived inside me.
The following night, after Cecelia finished her performance, I stepped onto the stage with my friends.
Finlay winked at me, and Thomas grinned.
The torchlights in every corner of the tavern flickered, casting shadows against the walls, while the scent of meat and spices permeated the air.
After counting everyone into the song, Finlay began playing his drums, smacking the heel of his hand against the goatskin top, while Thomas plucked the strings of his mandolin.
The other musicians joined in one by one, blending their instruments until the music swelled.
The audience sang along, belting out the first verse as more wait staff emerged from the kitchen, carrying pints of wine and beer.
When it was time, I sauntered to the mouth of the stage, thrusting out my hips for my first drum solo.
All of the musicians paused, leaving only Finlay to play, my body matching his rhythm beat for beat.
He struck his drum faster and faster as my hips shimmied in response, and then I spun, wearing a purple skirt tonight that flowed out around me.
The crowd cheered, already throwing coins onto the stage, though there wasn’t anywhere near enough energy being sent my way for me to feed. It didn’t matter. My meal was coming in the form of Brennan.
But he wasn’t there. Not yet.
The drum solo ended. My forehead and neck were already beading with sweat. Using the tiniest bit of my magic, I wiped it away and restored the shine to the curls beginning to frizz.