The King and the Courtesan (7 page)

A slow smile crept up his face, the same smile that seemed to hang on his lips whenever I was with him. He held out his hand when I approached, and I grasped it lightly.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he said softly.

“Thank you.” It was an odd word choice, but from Ezekiel I expected such.

Ezekiel took me straight to the black limousine waiting out front and helped me through the door that Bruce opened for us. When we both sat, Ezekiel pulled two things from his pockets.

First came silk elbow-length gloves. They were gorgeous.

“I thought these would not only look good, but be functional in covering up certain…marks.” His eyes drifted down to the tiny red scabs that dotted the inside of my elbows.

I tried not to blush as I took the gloves and slipped them on.

“Also, I have some jewelry I wanted to give you.” He pulled out a square box and opened it. A diamond necklace stared at me. I knew the jewels weren’t fake, even if that was my first instinct. I cast a doubtful look up at Ezekiel.

“Nothing but the finest. I don’t bother myself with mediocrity,” he replied, holding the necklace up until light bounced off its jewels. “Marvelous, isn’t it? A hundred and three graduated, brilliant cut diamonds.”

I watched as the diamonds trembled and glittered. I had difficulty breathing.
A hundred and three
? One diamond was far above anything I could afford. How much did over a hundred cost? My throat went dry at the thought.

“How much—how much does something like this run?” I had to ask.

“It’s rude to ask,” Ezekiel replied, but he looked amused. He unlatched it and held it toward me. “Put it on, and let me see you in it.”

I leaned forward and let him slip it around my neck. His fingers were warm and rougher than I expected for someone of such status. I slowly turned so he could clasp it at the nape of my neck.

“There are earrings as well,” he said, pointing to the diamond earrings resting on the velvet cushion.

“You didn’t tell me the price of the necklace.”

He shrugged. “Nothing of much consequence.”

“But—”

“Fifty-six thousand.”

All things considered, I took the news well. In fact, in my shock, I must have looked hardly impressed.

“And the earrings were twenty-four thousand. Care to slip these in?” He held them up.

“I don’t—how—you didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did,” he responded slowly. “I told you. I don’t bother myself with mediocrity. Besides, like I said, I invest in things that gain interest. Jewels are no exception. However, I’ve never invested in them before because I see little point to them if no one is around to wear them.” With this, he smirked. “It’s different now.”

He gave me the earrings and I stared down at them in my silk-covered hand. A lump the size of a grapefruit grew in my throat. I swallowed in an attempt to rid myself of the pressure.

“Are you going to put them on?”

I hastened to do so, as I didn’t want to make test Ezekiel’s patience. My fingers trembled, and the gloves made it a little tricky to fit them into one of my many piercings, all of which were empty thanks to Rosa and her tribe.

“Also, I don’t want you putting earrings in those other holes,” Ezekiel muttered. “I find multiple piercings tacky.”

I nodded, too awed to be insulted.

“I had a bracelet for you as well, but there was a mix-up in deliveries and it didn’t come in time.” A shadow fell across his face. “So I lament the fact that you will go bare-wristed at the party. But it is a small inconvenience, no matter how irritating. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t need to get a bracelet, too. I think-I think the necklace alone is gorgeous. I mean, of course the earrings are beautiful—”

“You won’t be stuttering like this at the party, will you?” Ezekiel’s eyes were fierce, though it was apparent he was trying to soften his demeanor. “While I find it slightly endearing, my fellow elites may not. And you might want to try to cover up your Metro accent.”

“I have an accent?” I knew the most obvious Metro accent, and I didn’t think I was anywhere close. I’d learned long ago that you managed better if people didn’t know you were from a district the rest of the city despised.

“A slight one. You don’t have to talk. I don’t see the point of it anyway. No one will be talking about anything interesting, nor anything you know much about.”

I nodded. That was one stipulation I didn’t mind. Keeping my mouth shut in front of a bunch of billionaires sounded rather appealing.

The car dipped down Ralston Hill toward the docks. I was glad that my gloves kept people from noticing the sweat on my hands. Night had descended, but in this neighborhood, it didn’t bring the scum out with it. Instead, it only magnified what was already beautiful. People who looked like movie stars walked between bars, and red convertibles idled at traffic stops. Ezekiel snorted and rolled his eyes.

“No class,” he murmured. “A nice black convertible is acceptable. But they’re flashy enough without a coat of paint like that.”

“I’ve noticed you like black.”

“It’s the best color there is.”

“I think it’s rather gloomy.”

“I don’t think of it that way. It goes marvelously with diamonds, at least.” With this, he gave me another smile.

Glancing at Ezekiel, I suddenly wondered where he came from. Were his parents wealthy? If he’d started out poor, how did he rise to such staggering heights? How did one get to be ridiculously rich so ridiculously fast? After all, he was still in his thirties. That didn’t give him much time to accumulate this much wealth.

I’d never ask him, though.

The yacht was an impressive boat, bigger than a house and strung with white lights. The docks were swarming with women in gowns and men in tuxedos. I could already hear the
plink
of delicate piano and the lofty laughter of socialites.

The limo stopped and the driver opened our door. He helped me out with a meaty hand, though I didn’t need his assistance. I had plenty of experience in high heels. Maybe not so much experience in long gowns like this one, but I managed.

Ezekiel emerged behind me. He nodded at his driver who returned to the car and drove away.

“What do you think?” Ezekiel asked, his shoulder brushing mine.

“Looks…terrifying.”

He chuckled and slipped an arm around my waist. Despite all my experience with one-sided intimacy, the contact shocked me. “You stay with me. I’ll handle these people.”

He led me up the ramp and into the crowd on deck, all of who smelled like expensive perfume. Maybe I should have been starstruck, but instead I hated them all. While they were all here, chatting and sipping from crystal glasses, there was gang warfare tearing my home district apart.

Ezekiel didn’t seem to notice my bitter thoughts. He effortlessly steered me to the bar, where a man in a tux prepared drinks.

I looked around while Ezekiel ordered. I didn’t recognize anyone, despite how wealthy and public they supposedly were. I doubted some of these people were as young as they looked, and up close that became more obvious. Noticing their flaws made me feel better, and it was a way to pass the time.

“Here.”

I took the drink Ezekiel offered me and sipped, not really caring what it was. Anything to take the edge off my nerves.

We made our rounds. Ezekiel talked to men twice his age who laughed at what they thought were jokes. When Ezekiel didn’t respond, their laughter died into awkward silence. Ezekiel could turn on charm as if it dangled from a chain, and if he didn’t find someone worthy, off it would click, leaving a much colder and harder man beneath. Cushioned by money and privilege, most didn’t seem to think anything of it. But I’d heard the rumors about him, so it made me wary. I knew what he was capable of, even if they didn’t.

Older couples observed me with curiosity and interest; one woman decided to single me out.

“Ezekiel, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come with a date. Have you found that special woman?” she asked with a grin.

“Indeed I have,” Ezekiel responded. His grip on my waist, which had remained there throughout most of the night, tightened.

“Oh, isn’t that wonderful! I love true love, don’t you, Henry?” She turned to her husband, who only nodded.

Ezekiel and I looked at one another. Ezekiel’s eyes had thawed, leaving his expression warm and open as he smiled. It startled me, so I did my best to mimic it, imagining for a moment that we were what this older couple saw—two beautiful people in love and so rich they had no better use for their evening.

“She sure is quiet,” the woman continued. “Don’t you have anything to say, my dear?”

“She’s shy,” Ezekiel offered.

“No need to be shy, sweetheart! I won’t bite.” The woman giggled a bit, then turned her glossy eyes to me, as if waiting for some deep revelation.

“I have nothing to say,” I replied softly.

Ezekiel squeezed me a bit, as if to say that my answer had been correct.

“And what a lovely necklace! I am a bit of a diamond enthusiast myself. Can’t get enough of them…”

Both older women and bored trophy wives sought out Ezekiel to flirt. Women caught him at the bar, at the railing, and below deck, thrilled by his air of mystery. One woman went so far as to touch his sleeve with a seductive smile. I saw his jaw twitch as he removed his arm from her hand. His reaction was not well received, and the woman gave him an offended look before marching off. Ezekiel sipped his wine for a moment, then turned to me.

“That is a woman without class,” he said.

“I’ve never met someone who
disliked
pretty women who threw themselves at him.”

“I don’t like shameless people.”

I nodded dumbly and stared out across the water to where the lights of the city danced along the ripples. Away from the clatter of glasses and laughter of people, I found it relatively peaceful out here on the bay.

“How have you liked the party so far?” Ezekiel asked, his tone light again.

“It’s very nice.” I knew it was stupid before I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t think of anything more clever or insightful to say. Normally, clients didn’t expect much conversation out of me, and if they did, they mostly wanted me to listen. “I’ve never been to a party like this before, and I don’t think I’ll get the chance again.”

“There’s a myth,” Ezekiel said, leaning his back against the railing and gazing into the depths of his drink, “that you can climb society’s ladder through hard work and perseverance.” He tipped his head to the side slightly. “I don’t imagine you’re a believer.”

“How can you climb a ladder if you’re never given one in the first place?”

One side of Ezekiel’s mouth lifted, though the smile seemed fake. “There is no ladder, Melissa.” He flagged down a young man in a catering uniform, then gave him his wineglass. Hands free, he slid an arm around my waist and briefly leaned in to whisper in my ear, “You have to climb on top of other people.”

We left early. I might have liked to stay longer simply because I didn’t know if I’d ever have another experience like this again, but I was sweating more than usual and my hands kept shaking. I didn’t know how much longer I could hide it from him. The problem with parties was that they stretched on forever, and there was no real polite time to say good-bye. At least a trick was wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. You both knew when to leave: when he climbed off.

I had downed one glass too many of champagne, but it was probably a good thing, because in the back of my head the usual voice had started telling me how much I wanted to get high right now, and the fog of alcohol helped. I longed for a nice, quiet room and a syringe full of dust, even as Ezekiel herded me down the gangplank to the waiting black car.

We headed for Metro. Bruce had gotten another car while we were at the party, because now we were in the black sedan that had first picked me up two nights ago. I figured it was a good move. People would wonder about the sedan, but they’d wonder even more about a limo.

“My public appearance is finished for the month,” Ezekiel said solemnly. “I hate parties, but I must keep up my image.”

“Why?”

“So I can continue doing what I’m doing. If those with no social standing know of my true occupation, it’s of no danger to me because they are no threat. However, if my equals suspect me…that can get messy. Hence why I must subject myself to shallow conversation and inappropriate groping,” he sneered. His eyes had that tinge of rage, but it quickly vanished.

“I think I should give you back this necklace and earrings,” I murmured, reaching up to unlatch my necklace.

“If you like.”

If I like
? I considered asking him if I could keep them because of course I’d
like
that, but at the same time, I didn’t want to be rude, especially not to him. So I gave them back, and he said nothing more about it.

At last we turned onto my street and stopped outside my apartment building. The homeless man who occasionally slept on the bench by the entrance lifted his head and gazed blearily at us, but I knew he was harmless, so I ignored him.

Bruce opened my door. As I slung a leg out onto the curb, Ezekiel grabbed my wrist.

“Melissa, I want to make another deal with you.”

I thought I’d been freed. Compared to Blade, I should have been thankful to have Ezekiel. But there was something lurking under his surface that unnerved me. Blade, despite his follies, allowed me some independence. He knew about my prostitution and never told me I couldn’t do it. He lived his life, I lived mine. But Ezekiel didn’t see me as a hooker or a girlfriend. He saw me as something else, and I had yet to figure out what.

“Yes?” I asked slowly.

“You can walk away. You can take this briefcase,” he pointed to the briefcase that sat between us, the one that contained my payment of street dust, “and walk away forever. You’ll never see me again. You can return to your normal life, cooking for a thankless moron by day and sleeping with strangers by night. Even if you leave Blade because of these drugs, you’ll eventually run out. And back to Blade you’ll go. Do you want that?”