13. Fenric
The great thing about tracking someone down in a brothel was that it required little sneaking. Strangers came and went all the time, and no one paid much attention to them. At least, they shouldn’t. Noticing the surroundings and other guests meant the “hosts” weren’t doing a good job.
Fenric waited until it was nearly midnight to return to The Secret Moon. Lance would have had plenty of time to drink and relax with the entertainers and his companions, gamble, listen to music, and play little games with the hosts between all the fucking.
Fenric had slipped away to meet up with the rest of his gang and let them know he was following an important lead he couldn’t pass up.
Belstrom had offered to accompany him in case there was trouble, but Fenric had been quick to turn him down.
Yeah, most people could blend in at a brothel, but not Bel.
The man stood over seven feet tall with shining gold hair like some kind of god.
Fenric didn’t need that kind of attention.
No, he was better off doing this alone. He was accustomed to working alone. It seemed to just come with the job. Besides, he wanted nothing to come between him and Lance. No one was going to keep him from asking the so-called hero a few questions.
Before he strolled into The Secret Moon, he made a pit stop at the brothel’s stable to make sure Lance’s horse was still there.
He might have even given the stable boy a few coppers to take extra time preparing the hero’s horse if he called for it.
Anything to stall Lance if Fenric couldn’t get to him right away.
Inside, the brothel was thick with the scent of cigar smoke, cheap booze, and so much fucking incense.
The Secret Moon was a higher-end brothel but wasn’t so exclusive that they chased away potential customers if they weren’t dripping coins.
There was a small stage in the center of the main room where a couple of women in gauzy outfits played instruments while another performed a seductive dance.
Around them was an assortment of tables, benches, and even a few couches, currently filled up by both men and women. They laughed, talked, drank, and even put on a few lurid acts in view of everyone.
As Fenric stepped up to the main room off the narrow foyer, he immediately wrapped his arm around a scantily dressed man, pulling him close on his left.
He then snagged a giggling red-haired woman to adorn his right.
After stealing a kiss from each, he demanded to be taken to a private room and have a bottle of wine sent up.
His new friends were more than happy to take this big spender somewhere they could weasel even more money out of him.
Loud music and even louder laughter followed them up the narrow staircase to the second floor.
It didn’t get any quieter. There was less music, but the air was now filled with the bang of wooden headboards, the squeak of bed joints, and a cavalcade of lusty groans as the occupants of the long line of rooms thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
If he’d been after any other quarry, Fenric might have been tempted to hang on to the pretty brunet he’d picked up at the door and have some fun, but even the sexy sounds rebounding off all the walls couldn’t distract him.
Until now, all of his focus had been on locating his mother’s lost treasures.
He’d never imagined her killers would fall into his hands so easily.
After all this time, he was finally going to get his revenge.
Her soul would be able to rest and he might be able to close his eyes and not see her blood-soaked body.
Close. So fucking close to being free. To tasting sweet revenge.
Near the end of the hall, the redheaded woman bounced ahead of them and threw open a door with a flourish. He allowed his companions to enter first before he stuck his head inside, checking to make sure they were the only ones present.
The small room contained a queen-sized bed with bright red sheets.
A love seat covered in a black fabric—likely to help hide all manner of stains—faced the bed.
Positioned next to the sofa was a small table holding a couple of wooden cups.
His new companions grabbed his hands and pulled him over to the love seat, where he sat heavily in the center.
The brunet and redhead cuddled close on either side of him, their skilled hands slipping under his shirt and down his thighs, caressing him while pressing kisses to his throat.
“How can we bring you to ecstasy tonight, lover?” the man purred. “Shall we call up for some more entertainment? We have a new singer in the house tonight, and he knows all the bawdy tunes from across the kingdom.”
“Or shall we get right down to the fun? We can move to the bed. Do you want us one at a time or both at the same time?” The woman let out a squeal. “Or maybe you like to watch? We can let Damien fuck me before you fuck him. How about that?”
“We have many toys and lubricants available for your enjoyment,” Damien offered.
“How much for an hour with both of you?” Fenric demanded in a harsh tone. He appreciated their dedicated work ethic, but this wasn’t why he’d come here.
The two leaned forward to look at each other before the woman stated, “Five silver.”
That felt a little steep, but Fenric didn’t hesitate as he dug into the worn leather pouch at his hip, pulled out five silver coins, and slapped them on the scarred wooden tabletop.
At the same time, he made a mental tally of who he owed what.
When he’d met up with the others, Hapi had taken one look at him and demanded everyone chip in for Fenric’s mission.
And they had, no questions asked. Fenric—emotional coward that he was—had taken the coins and run rather than embarrass himself with shaky, watery words of thanks.
He’d pay them all back, both in coin and in his own blood if he had to.
“There,” he growled. “You’ve got the hour off, but you have to stay in this room.”
The redhead lifted one thick brow at him, her expression oozing skepticism. “No sex? No blow jobs? No—”
“Nothing. I’m here to see one of your guests.”
The redhead snatched up the coins with a light giggle. “Sweet! I could use a break. My boobs have been pinched and grabbed so much tonight I’m getting bruises.”
“Really?” Damien pouted. He touched Fenric’s jaw, turning his head to meet his light brown eyes. “You’re hot enough, I’d totally give you a freebie.”
Fenric offered him a tight smile. “Thanks, but I’m looking for Lance Carrington. I saw him come in here several hours ago. His horse is still here.”
The woman snorted. When she spoke, her voice had lost all its super sweetness to shift into something more real. “Oh, he’s still here, but he’s had so much to drink, he’s gotta be pushing rope. Ain’t nobody getting off in that room.”
Damien giggled. “Daphne, be nice.”
“Why? He’s a total prick. Acting like he’s a gift from the gods.” She leaned close to Fenric and Damien, lowering her voice to a whisper. “And if that’s true, the gods forgot to gift him where it counts, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, it seems like this one is more than gifted enough for two heroes,” Damien purred as the hand on Fenric’s thigh slid up to cup him through his pants.
Fenric captured his hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing a kiss across Damien’s knuckles. “Maybe next time. Right now, I need to find Carrington.”
Damien whimpered. “He’s even a gentleman.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “End of the hall. I just saw the girl he was with tag out and send someone new up, but at this point, he’s got to be so drunk I can’t imagine he’s still conscious. It should be easy to slip inside the room.”
“Thanks.” Fenric climbed to his feet, gently pulling free of Damien’s grabby hands. “If you could just stay in here so no one notices I’m not…”
“Fucking someone brainless?” Daphne supplied with a bright smile.
“Yeah. That.”
Damien gave Fenric a thumbs-up. “We’ll cover for you. Just try not to get us shut down. I don’t have another job lined up.”
Yeah, that too. These were all hard-working people with bills to pay and mouths to feed. No reason to make their lives more difficult because Fenric had a vendetta to take care of.
After a quick adjustment to his cock, which was arguing that he should take Damien up on his offer, Fenric opened the door and stuck his head out into the hall. Empty. Perfect.
He slipped out of his room and hurried to the end of the hall. Not a sound came out of the room supposedly holding Lance. Taking it as a good sign, Fenric shoved the door open and froze over the threshold.
What. The. Fuck.
Lirion was already there.
The pink-haired troublemaker stood fully dressed beside Lance, who sat naked in a chair and tied up with more rope and knots than Fenric would have thought possible.
Lance’s golden skin held more than a few red marks, as if he’d been hit, but there was no blood.
He clearly hadn’t been hit hard enough yet.
His face also looked untouched. Fenric was ready to change that as well.
“Long time, no see, Sexy Eyes. As much as I’d love you to join us, you’ll have to wait your turn. This is a private party,” Lirion purred, adding on a wink.
Fenric was still trying to get over his shock of running into the bard yet again when Lance seemed to come partially out of his stupor.
“Fen?” Lance said, sounding dazed. Fenric couldn’t tell if he’d been drugged or was just drunk.
Not important. Fenric was more than happy to beat both vices out of him.
Fiery rage poured through his veins. His hands balled into fists at his sides and trembled. Acid boiled in his stomach, threatening to eat through his organs.
Betrayer.
Liar.
Murderer.
Thief.
Lance was supposed to be his partner. His comrade-in-arms. His most trusted companion as they rode through the countryside helping the weak, saving damsels, and ensuring the commoners had a shred of justice in their lives.