Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls (13 page)

“Who is the red-haired man?” he asked.

Petre’s grip tightened. “I don’t know; he haunts my dreams.” A chill crept up my spine, and I didn’t know if it was the invasion of my private thoughts, or that I’d had the dream again. He wanted me to take down the brothel. Tear down Uncle’s world and free my family, yes, he’d liked that. So had I. “Between us and you,” I said to Tomas, “I think we could do it.”

“Aye lass,” Mellissa butted in, and I shot her a smile. “Count us in wee one.”

“You too? Jobe?” He nodded.

Petre leaned away and stared into my eyes. He’d once offered me the world, and now the time had come. But I hadn’t wanted the world, the moon, the sun, or the stars. All I wanted was to destroy the man who’d made my life a living hell. He owed me as much. Petre’s head tilted, and I stroked the stray lock that had fallen into his eyes. Such beauty and darkness, but had it excused the lies whispered from those dangerous lips? “What’s going on?”

“Your angel here wants to take down Jules.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “You said whatever I wanted.” My hands dropped and played with his tie, smoothing over the silky surface. “You said he lied to us … ra … raped us.” The words choked in my throat as my gaze lifted. “I love them, Petre, and I can’t stop worrying … We have to stop him.”

As ridiculous as it sounded, I’d cared for him too. All he’d done for me, but tonight’s events had been a slap in the face. How different the events could have unfolded. How different our lives could have been if he’d stop lying.

I wasn’t stupid; I’d told him before. The clock chimed. His cool hand cupped my cheek and pulled us together. “You realize that you’re asking me to kill him, right? It’s the only way you can stop him.”

I swallowed hard. Petre wasn’t a killer; a liar yes, although his nature allowed him to do so, I doubted he would have murdered without reason. In the short time I’ve known him, I had grasped the truth. The silent strength told me he might not have always been docile over his lifetimes.

“I would gladly honor our friendship, ma petit fee.” No, I didn’t want to owe Tomas anything. He was too much of a creep even if I didn’t have any proof other than his undressing eyes and bizarre wardrobe. “I should take offense to that.” I turned around and raised my eyebrow. “What, you don’t like my clothes? I tell you, goggles will be all the rage come next year.”

“He’s said that for ten years now,” Petre whispered, and my body erupted in laughter. His arms snaked around my waist and pulled me against his chest. Tomas frowned and mumbled something about Americans. “Let’s dine.”

Petre invited Mellissa and Jobe to eat with us. When they had resisted, I insisted the meal served to plan for taking down Jules. “How many girls are there?” she asked.

“Hampshire houses fifteen girls and young women.”

“What about the other houses, angel?” My spoon dropped, and my head fell into my hands. How had I managed to forget about the other houses run by Jules and his cronies? “Did you visit those?”

My head fell again. I hadn’t prayed for those girls. “No, he didn’t allow it.” But I knew Egan House didn’t house girls or women. I wasn’t supposed to know, but I’d overheard that the new house he’d bought was for boys and young men. My hands pushed my bowl away, and Tomas frowned.

“Is something wrong with my soup?” I shook my head. “Oh … oh. That does change things, but we shall figure it out before the morning.”

“What?” Petre asked as he scanned our faces. I guessed he couldn’t read minds like I’d first thought. Tomas spoke first, relaying what he’d taken from my mind as my fingers tore a napkin into shreds. Would there be enough room for them all? I chided myself for forgetting about the young boys and who knew how many houses there were. Now or never for I knew the changes within me meant my time here was shortened. Before we killed ourselves, I’d rescue as many slaves and whores as possible.

Petre’s hand grasped mine, folding our fingers together. “We’ll save them. Every child will taste freedom, but this is too dangerous for you. Immortals only I’m afraid.”

“He’ll know it’s you, Petre,” Tomas said.

“That’s why I want her guarded.”

“Demon—”

“He will come with me.”

“I disagree; he will protect her.”

“No, I don’t trust your logic.”

My head whipped back and forth as the two men argued over the horse and me. I tossed my hands into the air and slammed them on the table. “Stop it; you both sound like bickering children.” Tomas’ mouth crept into a half smile. “I don’t see what the fuss is anyway.” I turned to Petre and raised my eyebrow. My chest heaved, and my hands gripped the table. The room grew hot and stuffy as we stared at each other. “Just do what it takes to save them. Horse, demon, I don’t care.” His lips parted as if to speak, and I winced at his deadly weapon. My voice grew hoarse as I uttered, “Come back to me in one piece.”

He reached for me, but I had turned and marched from the room. I’d gone and mucked everything up. Why had I said that last part aloud? Because I cared for Petre and no fighting changed the fact. No amount of refusal or fancy notions changed what he’d done. I paused as I reached the second set of steps, and my hand fell to my heart. My eyes burned, blurring my vision. I sat on the step, wrapping my dress around my legs. When had I allowed that to happen?

Despite the lies and games, he’d made a believer out of me. But I knew the truth now. “Always.” From the first moment, Petre had stolen a piece of me and held it hostage. He’d wined and dined it, coddled it, and smothered it with sweet words. I flinched at the thought of loving a man who had lied, even though I’d understood why. Every lie had been for my protection, and there were some that I wished Petre had kept.

The chairs shuffled in the dining room, and I ran up the remaining stairs to my room. He had waited, and his eyes filled with intense hunger. I swallowed, glancing around. Petre’s lips tipped up, and his finger beckoned me closer.

“Close the door,” he rumbled. Those rough words caressed my heated skin. “Lock it,” he added as my hand slid the metal bar over. I turned; my chest heaved harder with every step I took closer to Petre. His black and grey suit permeated power, and it tickled my insides. Cold hands brushed down my back and pulled me against him. Lips touched mine and I melted; he burned me from the inside out as his tongue massaged my depths. My hands clutched his shirt and tugged it free. I needed him; I wanted him, and I pressed against him. Petre groaned, stepping toward the bed, with each shove. “Angel we …” My hand dipped into his trousers and grasped his cock. “Yes,” he moaned against my mouth, as my strokes increased.

Deft fingers found the zipper of my gown, and the ridiculous garment fell to the floor. His breath sucked in, as I’d worn nothing underneath. Petre’s hands teased their way across my body, pinching my swollen nipples, as another hand danced at my curls. I wanted more, all of him inside of me, and had unfastened his trousers. He sprang free, and I broke our kiss, trailing my lips down his jaw. My fingers popped the buttons on his shirt as he removed his tie. The air churned with musky heat and sweat; it warmed my heart and aching loins.

I shoved him again, and Petre fell on the bed. My eyes took him in, propped on his elbows, his ashen muscled flesh beckoning me. His rigid cock angled, wavering like a billowing tree. The hardened veins pulsed in time with my ragged breaths. I licked my lips and tread toward him. “What are you thinking?” Petre asked me as I straddled his lap.

My hands roamed over his chest as I contemplated the question. The coolness of his cock jumped against my damp curls, and my breath caught in a tickling gasp. I bit my lip, rolling the words over in my head. He had the right to know, to hear them. Leaning forward, I kissed him and dragged my breasts across his muscled chest. His arms surrounded me, and Petre rolled me onto my back. “Nice diversion,” he whispered into my neck.

I grasped his face in the palms of my hands and forced his gaze to mine. Those fangs jutted out, increasing my heartbeat, or perhaps it was the uncertainty surrounding me. “Petre, I need you.”

“No,” he said and spun off the bed. My eyes ached, but I refused to allow the tears to fall. He scooped up his clothing and slammed the door on his way out. Only then did I allow the floodgates to tear, words or not, he’d managed to destroy my heart.

Chapter Ten

T
he Duc and I spent the next week hunting for Jules and tracking the women and children tied to his businesses. Korrigan never strayed far from my thoughts, and I doubted Tomas’ thoughts either. Today we chose Hampshire House, the brothel where I’d first glanced my Angel. Jules shuffled girls around almost daily as if he expected an attack, but time shied from our side with each passing day. We hadn’t found him yet either and neither sat well within my churning stomach.

“We have to move soon.” Jules had to have sensed our presence by now. Few sneezed in Delphia without the demons catching wind. Yet another truth I’d kept from Korri. With all she’d learned about vampires and magic, why risk damaging her further with the demonic reality? Or tell her she might be one too. Tomas still hadn’t confirmed or denied what ran through her veins even though I had doubts. The sweet addiction of her blood had no fiery undertones.

Korrigan also hadn’t given me a chance to explain, not that I’d tried. We left many words unsaid after our cold departure, and Tom refused to share her thoughts. Like her, he too had grown closed off during this venture, but neither would explain themselves. My friend had said deep down I knew why, yet I hadn’t.

I pushed the thoughts of her far from my mind. Now wasn’t the time. Jules had dangled closer to the upper tier in the demonic hierarchy. I doubted he ever shared his true nature with Korri either. “Today, Petre.”

I nodded to Tomas; my eyes hadn’t left the house. He marked humans through their thought patterns, wincing more often as we visited each brothel. His insights affected him, as I’d never witnessed before. “Merde, you should hear the torment.”

My lips pressed into a thin line. I saw the signs etched forever into Korrigan’s flesh. Deep riveted scars that no child, woman, or man should ever have to endure. The women locked behind the house walls, oh, but I’d doubted their fate fared any other way. “If not worse, ami.”

“We should end here.” Tomas blinked his blue eyes as I glanced to him. “Jules would expect me to hit here first and might be unaware we’ve mapped his entire operation. The girls leave here, but they never come back here.”

“What are your thinking?” I hadn’t a clue, but it seemed since the last time I was here, he’d turned this into a drop point as if he were, in fact, moving the brothel operation. But the question was to where.

That was the easier part. We followed his men; not the sleazy johns, but the ones who operated in his stead. Most were humans who had never thought to look past their own noses let alone to the rooftops.

“Ami, tell me where to strike.” Tomas managed the words through his clenched teeth.

A
nother week passed as we continued our jumps from brothel house to brothel house. Instead of watching, we struck. The attacks were zigzagged, never too close to the last, and sometimes hitting the same house twice.

I made sure Jules knew it was me who tore him down. By the week’s end, exhaustion and heartache began to take its toll on my soul. The sick bastard grew ruthless and ordered beatings. Many of the women laid inches from death, and we’d even lost a few by arriving too late.

Yet the mastermind was nowhere around, and we’d veered off course with two houses remaining. The Hampshire house remained our second to last stop. I’d decided the night before, based on chauvinistic notions, and Tom’s lack of insight. Boys were stronger than women were, and if anyone could survive another day, it would be them. The thought churned in my stomach, yes, but I had to pick one over the other.

“Ami, I shall not judge you.” Tomas squeezed my shoulder. “Baron, you are a more admirable man than me at your age.” I snorted, so easy to say for a man that had died long before my parents were born.

We dressed to blend since we lacked a cover in broad daylight; we wore simple dark clothing.

I glanced away. “I do it for her.”

Tomas handed me a baseball cap to hide my long hair. I tucked a revolver into the waistband of my jeans, and two more slipped into a hidden holster. He nodded, repeating my actions with his own.

“Amour mon ami, we do crazy things in its name, but it doesn’t change the action. Non, you have always been a gracious man.” God knew I loved her, but had she believed me? Her opinion was all that mattered, but the truth remained. One day -demon or not- she would die. “Sooner than you think, if you do not tell her all.”

I blinked at his cold, shaky words. “What do you mean?”

Tomas released a sigh and paced the rooftop. “Remember when I said she was the one?”

“You also said she wasn’t human.”

“Right. She’s not human, but she’s still the one.”

“How?”

“After you crumble away into the sunset, ma petite fee takes her own life.”

My knees sank to the tarred rooftop, and I shivered. “No … I …” Tomas seized my shoulders and shook hard. My gaze reached his twisted face. “That wasn’t the plan.” Hestin’s laughter ricocheted in my head.

“Why do you think I wanted her that night? She isn’t the only one with foresight.” He grasped my face in his hand and forced my gaze. “You may have the best intentions, Petre, but you are a selfish liar when it comes to your curse.” Tom patted my cheek, but I lacked the will to rise. He was right. While I questioned my decision and told her I wouldn’t leave, deep down I still planned my death despite my burning love for Korrigan. Even his speech hadn’t changed the facts around my curse. If I lived then one day I’d no longer have control over Nicolai. “Find a way or we all lose the last light God shined on our forsaken world.”

Neither of us spoke another word. We readied despite the pit in my stomach growing larger with thoughts of Korrigan. I had called home and received no answer again. Not even from Mellissa or Jobe, but they were pissed at me too. I snorted and shook my head.

Tomas didn’t reach anyone either when he’d called his men. He’d posted extra guards on my property. Another decision faced me. We could go home or take down this brothel. I ran a hand over my face and asked for advice. “What would you do?”

Tomas laughed behind me. He’d taken up residence on an old milk crate and had ceased his pacing. Few people had glanced at the sky and a pity there were no planes or airships yet to remind them of its beauty.

“You’ve done what I’d do.” I raised a brow. “Delegated.” He’d survived by his straightforward, no crap attitude; years of immortality and Dukedom affected his life in ways others couldn’t comprehend. Yes, overbearing at times, and he had the oddest wardrobe tastes, his purple goggle choice not excluded, but beneath it all, Tomas was a devoted friend.

“How many do you hear?” I asked.

Tomas’ eyes closed, and his fingers rose, tallying each mind. Sixteen, but that didn’t mean they were all vulnerable slave girls. I ran my palm over my face at the thought. Even beneath her façade of indifference, my angel wasn’t all that helpless, but she couldn’t fight off Jules. The notion had nothing to do with her being a woman and everything to do with him being a demon.

He’d raised her even if that involved beating, starving, molesting, and finally sodomizing her. If it wasn’t for my contract, my insistence on having her, she would be in there too. Hindsight, the moment I saw her, this was what I should have done. I’d put my faith into this lawless world. My eyes shut as the sun warmed my face, and I imagined it as Korrigan’s hand caressing my cheek.

“You are a lovesick fool,” Tom said reading my thoughts. “She’s good for you; she brought your mind and heart back from death.”

I smiled and shook my head even though I didn’t disagree. He knew it; I knew it too, but did Kor realize the impact she had on my life? I met her thinking she’d free me and Demon Spawn of immortality. She’d freed me from something else. No, I couldn’t let her dream come true. Not because I feared her death, but because I wanted to live, live every waking moment with her by my side. There was no afterlife, no death, no curse I cared for more than her. My life and death belonged to her.

“Ami, I can’t tell you how.” He shot me a glance and shook his head. Tomas knew, he just wouldn’t tell me how. “Some things cannot be told, my vieuix ami. But know this, she will forgive you, and she loves you.”

I flashed a grin. “Who are you calling old?”

I’d do anything to win her back. All of this, tearing down brothels, I did for her. Walk through fire, drink animal blood, sell every scrap I owned, all of it I’d do for a glimpse of Korrigan’s smile.

My gut twisted at how I’d left her. She’d cried that night, and it was the first time she’d done so because of me. Moments after I left her room, I’d ran back; I’d been a moron for denying her. The contract mattered little, but my love and respect for Kor had stopped me from making love to her. Immortality remained a damned life, and she deserved more. But she chose me, and I wanted everything done right for her. Kor locked me out though; she’d verbally ripped my head off. Those words warmed my heart now even if she had called me colorful names. The following morning, I left a note for Mellissa. Demon Spawn and I rode for the hills. All it stated was how much I loved her, and nothing else mattered anymore except her happiness. Nothing more than a lie when I’d written the words, but now there was truth. My number I wrote down along with Tomas’, but we hadn’t heard from any of them. I was certain by now that Mellissa taught her how to use the particular phones.

“This is it,” Tom said, arriving at the front door of Hampshire House. My hand shook as it rapped on the wooden surface. A young girl, no older than ten, answered the door. Her large brown eyes scanned over us as her bruised wrist pointed toward the waiting area. I glanced at Tomas, who nodded his head and coughed. My stomach churned at the thought of men using a child for sexual pleasure.

“I remember you,” a husky voice said from a desk near the kitchen as I stepped over the tiled threshold. My eyes scanned over the locked cabinets. Those that were open lay barer than the children’s nursery rhythm. “You stole away our prize. What, she wasn’t good enough? Oh yeah, her sweet—” My hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed.

“Petre,” Tomas warned, but I couldn’t stop. My head screamed for the man to keep talking. Those fingers itched to cut off his air supply, but no death, no, not yet. Images flashed of hanging him from irons, whipping this filth within inches of his worthless life and keeping him there. Teetering, they all deserved to teeter on the edge of death. That was what they’d done to these girls, and the ones we’d already tucked away.

“Say another word; I dare you.” He choked, gurgling as I tightened my grip. A woman, dressed in a ratty corset and torn jeans, trembled at his feet. She backed away from me, her eyes wild and wide. His grimy pants were undone, privates exposed. Another disgusting pig and he deserved nothing short of a pain-filled death. “How many are here?” I asked her.

“He’s it; she thinks the others are gone till tonight.” Tomas relayed the woman’s thoughts as my fangs sprang forth. No use in ruining a free meal so I sliced my teeth through his neck. The young girl shrieked. Tomas moved fast as my eyes flickered to the corner. His brow rose. “Something big going down at the new house?”

My parched mouth burned for more blood. Kor had explained the new house, but she hadn’t known about the location.

“Shush, ma beautiful,” Tomas said with glowing silver eyes. “Go gather the rest; we wish no harm.” She nodded her brunette head as I wiped the foul blood from my stained face. Fourteen girls ranging from three to twentyish lined up before us. The last snuggled to one of their breasts; a frail baby not more than a few months old. My heart sunk, and I glanced to Tomas. These girls, out of all the ones we’d rescued, were the worst. “Pack your bags Mademoiselles, you are libéré.”

They murmured among themselves; large eyes exchanged glances and blinked. My fingers tapped at my side as all the previous questions arose. I cut them off. “Korrigan sent me.”

“But you own her,” a black-haired girl said. She was around Angel’s age, older perhaps, but just as emaciated and weak. Her bony wrists bore fresh bruises too. A spark survived in her, and I smirked, thinking back to Kor and the train ride. She grew in the short time we’d spent together, and it lit hope inside of my dead heart. I stroked the hope, fueling the fire, and let it mature.