Chapter 14 #2
Penn hesitated for a long moment before acquiescing with a deferential nod. Squeezing my fingers, she let go and marched past Kenton. He watched her cross the room, and at the threshold she gave him one last look, brimming with disappointment, before shutting the door behind her.
And with her absence, Kenton exhaled a weary sigh, his body sagging slightly. I almost chuckled at him locking his fingers behind his neck, his gaze lost in the loops of wool beneath his shoes as he paced. Penn was doing exactly what I’d hoped. Sabotaging his resolve.
“Kenton?” Valarie urged gently.
He looked up, unthreading his fingers before dropping his hands to his hips. She moved closer, brushing a hand over his shoulder, smoothing his shirt and his emotions. “We need to do this.”
“I don’t like it. Not this way—we’re better than this.”
“It needs to be done.”
Kenton tipped his head back and expelled a heavy breath. He gave a sharp nod. When his gaze lowered and met mine, the impenetrable wall slammed back into place.
Unease struck my skin like a rainfall of icy snowflakes.
What was about to happen here?
I fidgeted with the translucent lace panels of my skirt, glancing at the door, shifting nervously in my heels. The moment I stepped outside, whatever machinations the Crowthers had set in motion would begin.
But there was no option except to face it head-on, even if at first I had to be dragged out of this room kicking and screaming.
And my pride would never allow that. Rancor inflamed my blood.
Tulle grazed my fingertips as I lifted my skirt and stalked past both Crowthers, snarling, “Let’s get this fucking charade over with. ”
Lila became our guide once more. She escorted us from the dressing room back onto the grand avenue, the ribbed vault towering overhead like the throat of some enormous beast. We moved deeper into the Emporium toward a staircase that carried us to the third floor and into the hive of industry.
This was the beating heart of the bordello, where the servants kept everything running so smoothly it created the illusion of calm waters.
We proceeded down a cavernous passageway lined with pointed arches and clustered columns. A warm, artificial light spilled across the stone floor from high above, seeping through stained windows framed by intricate stone dahlias.
A layered noise rose around us of chattering voices, hurried footfalls, the metallic whir of wheels, and the distant bark of orders.
Servants streamed past, bustling through their duties.
Crates of wine, dusted with cobwebs, rattled on trolleys pushed in the same direction we were heading.
Some servants wore elegantly layered garments like Lila’s, their attire evoking an image of ancient Rome as they escorted those who were other, while barely dressed courtesans drifted by, their glistening skin catching the light.
And another kind of other was being guided toward the foyer and elevators at the far end of the passageway.
Mood-enhancers. A soft, tranquil aura radiated from them, and I felt my body responding, my limbs loosening, my mind relaxing.
I clenched my fists, welcoming the sting of nails digging into my palms to cut through the pleasant haze.
Ahead of me, Lila’s blue tresses swayed with her graceful stride. I followed, and when the delicious scent of roasting meat and herbs rolled out from a nearby archway, my stomach grumbled.
Curiosity slowed my steps. I peered through the archway into the open kitchen.
An enormous stone hearth from a bygone era dominated one wall, oversized to accommodate the gigantic roasting carcass.
My gut pitched. It wasn’t an animal, but a lesser creature with pointed ears, tusks, and spikes running down its spine.
Its cooking flesh sizzled and fat spat as it turned slowly on a spit.
Heat shimmered in waves as the chef leaned in to baste the beast’s charred flesh with buttery herbs, wiping sweat from his brow before returning to his work.
The rest of the kitchen was in full swing as the brigade tossed sizzling vegetables, coated meat with frothing butter, and stirred bubbling pots, the air noisy with a flurry of knives chopping roots and greens and orders shouted by the head chef.
A silver bell rang sharply, and servers whisked away the dishes.
A cool draft drifting from the other side brushed my overheated skin. I turned to see two wide doors propped open as servants pushed a service cart and carried silver cloches out of a chilled room.
When the doorway cleared, I caught a glimpse inside, and shock twisted through me. Human bodies hung in the cooler, suspended like carcasses of beef, their skin tones ranging in various hues, all muted by the cold. The one hanging closest to me was missing half his buttock.
A pantry chef sliced a thin sliver of human flesh from the loin of a corpse and slid it onto a metal plate, the slices arranged like sashimi before the waiter swept away and another took his place. “What’s the order?”
“Three slices from New Zealand. One Finland shoulder. And a pound each from Ireland and Iceland.”
My stomach lurched, and I pressed a hand to my middle, swallowing back the bitterness rising in my throat.
I knew the Horned Gods ate mortals like snacks, but knowing and seeing were two very different things.
I flinched to hear a rapid, heavy thwacking sound from somewhere out of sight, as if someone was butchering a corpse with a cleaver.
Lila led us onward, and the cooler vanished behind us.
We reached a bank of elevators—a strange modern touch in the ancient building.
Servants entered the service lifts with carts and trolleys, no doubt carrying food and wine.
Lila guided us instead to a more refined alcove with twin elevators.
One was enormous and built for Horned Gods. The other was human-sized.
The metal doors slid open, and we stepped into a chamber of rosewood and polished mirrors. I feigned boredom, as if this were just another dull day in the company of Crowthers, ignoring their reflections. But my nerves were fraying.
We glided upward, higher and higher, toward the very top of the Emporium. I steeled myself. I had no idea what awaited me beyond the mirrored doors.
We came to a gentle stop.
And the doors parted with a soft whoosh.