Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Jonathan’s father was terrifying. He was like the vicar and Mr. Bayswater, the overbearing solicitor in whose office he’d been employed, rolled into one. While he and Jonathan had been exchanging words, Charlie had tried to make himself as small as possible and hide behind whatever he could.
Until Jonathan attempted to use him as a shield.
Then Charlie had been filled with a sense of purpose and more courage than he’d ever dreamed he would have. He was a poor barrier, but if he could stand between his savior and someone who wanted to cause him harm, then Charlie would stand strong.
He continued to feel that way as he and Jonathan made their way through London to the address printed on the card Brutus had given Jonathan to deliver the bundled-up photographs of Phoebus.
He would never be much of an advocate or champion for anyone, but at least Charlie had an inkling of the sort of situation he and Jonathan were about to step into.
As soon as they reached the stately house in Tyburnia, Charlie’s confidence waned.
“It looks like an ordinary house,” Jonathan spoke his thoughts aloud as they mounted the front steps and Jonathan knocked on the door.
The house was as plain and ordinary as they came. It had none of the Georgian splendor of Mayfair or even the more recent elegance of Marylebone. The building was tall and brick, with little embellishment. All of the windows that faced the street had their curtains drawn, despite it being midday.
“Can I help you?” the stout butler who answered the door asked, looking down his nose at both Jonathan and Charlie, despite being a servant addressing a gentleman.
“I’ve come to deliver photographs to Brutus,” Jonathan said, sounding a little baffled.
The butler’s harsh expression immediately eased. “You are expected,” he said with a polite smile, stepping aside and gesturing for Jonathan and Charlie to enter.
Had Charlie thought the house was ordinary? From the moment they entered the lamp-lit front hall, he knew it would be one of the most extraordinary places he’d ever been admitted to.
Unlike the plain brick of the outside, the front hall was done up in white marble. The decorations all reflected the Ancient World, which included columns and plinths in a style Charlie had only ever seen when walking past London’s museums, and paintings depicting Greek gods and their playthings.
There was a subtle luridness to the artwork that fit with the assumptions Charlie had made about the sort of club Brutus and his brother operated. The gods on the walls cavorted with nubile young men in explicit detail.
And that was only the front hall.
“Luncheon is just about to be served,” the butler explained as he escorted Jonathan, Charlie trailing behind, down a long hallway.
Music and talking wafted up from that end of the house.
As they walked, Charlie realized the house was much larger and deeper than its outward appearance would have led anyone to believe.
In fact, although the building looked small and narrow from the street, Charlie would have wagered it actually encompassed most of the houses adjacent to it, and perhaps some on the opposite street as well.
“Does Brutus often host strangers for luncheon?” Jonathan asked, his manner easy with the butler, as if he didn’t care about class or position.
“Very frequently,” the butler answered with an indulgent smile. “The Zagreus Den is always a hive of activity.”
Zagreus. As luck would have it, Charlie had encountered the name in his studies.
He’d become enamored with Greek Mythology a few years ago, when he still had leisure time and liked to fill it with reading anything and everything he could get his hands on.
Zagreus was one of the most ancient gods.
He was the earliest incarnation of Dionysus, son of Zeus and Persephone, goddess of the underworld.
As Charlie remembered it, Zagreus was beautiful and sensual and good.
Zeus wanted to make him the heir to the throne of the gods.
But Hera, in her jealousy, had ordered the Titans to kill the young man by tearing him limb from limb.
A shiver passed down Charlie’s spine, sending quivery feelings of fear and desire through him as he and Jonathan were shown into a large room that could only be described as a banquet hall or a ballroom at the back of the house.
Right there, on the wall opposite the entrance, was a vast mural depicting exactly the story that he remembered.
Except instead of a depiction of blood and gore, the four Titans in the mural all had their hands on a stunningly beautiful Zagreus, and it was clear they were about to do more than simply kill the ecstatic young man.
“Jonathan,” Brutus called across the room from the low table where he sat with a few other men. He pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room to greet them. “So good of you to join us.”
Prickles of excitement raced over Charlie’s skin as he glanced around, taking in the surreal wonder of the scene he and Jonathan had just stepped into.
The echoes of the Ancient World were evident in more than the artwork gracing the walls.
The furnishings were odd to the eyes of those living in the modern world, but, Charlie guessed, were probably familiar to anyone who had actually visited Ancient Greece.
There were several low tables surrounded by cushions, where men sat or reclined to eat.
Higher tables stood against some of the walls, where food was being prepared to be served.
The fireplace that warmed the room had a more modern feel to it, but the small, curved dais in one corner of the room where a quartet of musicians played instruments Charlie had never seen before was far from modern.
What really struck Charlie were the young men who played those instruments and who served the meal.
They were all around his same age, all attractive in their own way, and each one of them was dressed in a light toga, just like illustrations and paintings Charlie had seen of the age that the club seemed to be reflecting.
More than that, some of them were adorned with gold or silver bracelets, anklets, and necklaces.
A few had pierced ears with gems glittering from them.
All of them had their faces painted with cosmetics.
“Brutus,” Jonathan greeted their host with a smile as he met them in the center of the room. He was all smiles and charm as he shook the taller, darker man’s hand with as much ease as if he’d spent his whole life in the strange and unfamiliar surroundings. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure,” Brutus said. “I’m glad you thought to join us so quickly after our business yesterday.”
“I couldn’t turn down an invitation such as this,” Jonathan answered affably.
The strain and frustration of his argument with his father was still visible to Charlie in the tight lines around his eyes and the bristling energy behind the smile, but he was already relaxing into his surroundings.
“And I felt it my duty to deliver your photographs as swiftly as possible. Charlie?”
He turned to Charlie, holding out his hand for the parcel that Charlie carried.
Charlie jerked forward to hand over the photographs, his reactions delayed just a bit as he tried to take in the wonders all around him.
He and Jonathan were instantly the center of the attention of everyone in the room, which was about two dozen people, including the musicians and serving boys.
Their curiosity made Charlie feel as naked as he had in front of Jonathan’s camera.
Gloriously so.
“Good to see you again, Charlie,” Brutus said, grinning at Charlie like he knew everything he was thinking and feeling as he absorbed his strange, new surroundings. “Like what you see?”
To anyone else, that might have been a casual question to begin a conversation. Charlie knew the moment he met Brutus’s gaze, which he couldn’t hold for more than a second, that it implied so much more.
He looked down and nodded.
“Good,” Brutus said. “Then you shall both join us. Valentine, come see to Charlie.”
A stunning young man with white-blond hair and an onyx cuff shaped like a glittering snake wrapped around his upper arm set down the tray he’d been preparing by one of the tables and walked over to Charlie.
He radiated good will and sweetness, but also sadness.
He smiled at Charlie, and Charlie immediately smiled back as if he were an old friend.
Brutus nodded, then shifted to Jonathan’s side, stretching an arm across Jonathan’s shoulders as if they, too, had been friends for ages, steering him on to the longest of the tables.
“Your timing is impeccable,” he said as Jonathan glanced back over his shoulder to make certain Charlie was taken care of. “We’ve just begun our midday meal and entertainment. There’s no better way to have your first taste of the Den, both literally and figuratively.”
“I am already intrigued,” Jonathan said, turning his attention back to Brutus. “Is this a fancy dress party or standard attire for the club?”
“Standard attire, of course,” Brutus laughed. “For the boys, at least.”
Charlie blinked, realizing that the men in the room were all dressed in a more modern style, albeit more relaxed. He swept a quick glance around the room to be sure that observation was correct.
His glance stopped on a man who must have been in his thirties seated at one of the side tables.
Or rather, at the younger man seated on his lap who was stripped to the waist. Possibly entirely naked, Charlie couldn’t tell, since they were seated behind the table.
The young man wore a bejeweled collar, and if Charlie wasn’t mistaken, there was a fine, golden chain attached to that collar that slithered down the young man’s chest.