Chapter 13

"Maiden," the dark brown man, over a head taller than me, said, gripping the lapel of his coat as he stepped to the side. I could almost hear his heart thundering when he reached and twisted the iron knob.

As I strode through the entrance of the brothel, the world transformed into a realm of clandestine desires and hidden pleasures. Sconces cast a seductive glow, their dim light revealing just enough to tantalize the senses while shrouding the illicit activities in an air of secrecy.

The musty aroma mingled with the haze of opium smoke, enveloping the hallway in a hushed, intoxicating atmosphere of lust and sex, cheap perfume, and stale cigarettes, weaving a story that spoke of every encounter behind sheer curtains.

Murmured voices floated through, their soft timbre hinting at whispered secrets. I listened carefully, confident the truths I needed could be hidden between these walls, but I couldn't grasp words beyond the opioid haze slowly taking over my mind.

I'd been lost to the seduction of opium dens only once, ten years ago. When tragedy struck and I had nowhere else to go, when I couldn't deal with the reality of death, I'd fallen into the darkness of that underworld, trading jewels to keep the memories at bay. It was only when Ro refused to see me that I walked away. Still, my heart yearned for the numbness the haze offered, as if a smoky finger beckoned me forward, promising me temporary escape.

A scream of pleasure pierced the veil of my mind, bringing me back, intermingling with a soft, feminine giggle. The tapping of a long cigarette on an ashtray provided a broken rhythm to the symphony of sensuality.

The atmosphere within the brothel mirrored the complex tapestry of its occupants. Patrons, frantic for attention and seeking temporary solace from their hardships, mingled with servers who themselves were desperate to repay their debts to Lady Visha. The women working here wore masks of forced smiles, concealing the sadness that lingered in their eyes. It was a world where desires met with transactional encounters, where emotions were carefully guarded.

Stepping into the main room, beyond the long hall that carried me through a world of varying degrees of promised pleasure, I moved to the red velvet couch but considered what fluids might be lingering and opted to stand as I waited for Lady Visha's invitation. This was her world. And she was happy to let her patrons see the Death Maiden within these walls. Happy to let the world see that her power stretched beyond fear.

A reasonably attractive man, with cropped brown hair nearly hidden beneath a top hat, had no such reservations as he sprawled across another couch, his dark eyes watching the courtesans pass by. When one walked by, wearing nothing but a sheer robe and the highest heels I'd ever seen, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her onto his lap. Sad eyes met mine for only a moment before she tilted her head and laughed. Ink from the man's fingers transferred onto her beautiful golden skin as he rubbed her back.

When she tried to pull away and he refused to let her up, protective anger surged through me, and I made it all of three paces toward the asshole before Cordelia, one of Lady Visha's favorites, cleared her throat from the doorway. I made a mental note to pay the printer a little visit the next time I was around. Though I wasn't sure he'd seen me beyond his lust.

Making eye contact with the woman that'd saved that man's testicles, I wondered if she would have done that, had she not been Lady Visha's favorite. I'd never seen another of the courtesans remain untouched. Though there was only one red band on her arm, a debt easily paid, some would say, she stayed by choice, the hostess to the Goddess of Pleasure, should such a title exist. Visha stacked her debts, each band countable, whereas the Maestro locked a person down with time. That was perhaps the only difference between them. Still, I followed the woman all the same, down the dark halls and into the serpent's office.

"I've always known you to be smart, Prin—forgive me. It's no longer princess, is it?" Lady Visha rested one arm on the plush red velvet chair, and with the other, cracked her long cigarette on the side of her mahogany desk, letting the ashes fall to the richly patterned rug.

The chestnut-haired shadow at her side rushed in, sweeping away the mess. I watched the band on her arm, but it did not fade or falter. How many debts had she agreed to with that single ring?

I didn't respond. She'd asked me to forgive her but, while I didn't think there could possibly be a binding contract in there, the last twenty-four hours had taught me new lessons.

"On edge, Maiden?" Lady Visha leaned forward, adjusting the collar of her feathered red robe as she lowered her dark lashes, her soft golden curls falling onto her shoulders. "One could hardly blame you after jilting the new king."

"Something like that." I took three steps into the room, pulled out the chair opposite of her desk, and sat.

"I assume you've come to ask for help? Taking back your father's throne? I am not a miracle worker, Deyanira. But if you'd be willing to swear yourself to me, I could pull a few strings, loosen a few others." Her gaze narrowed as gracefully as a serpent ready to strike. She nodded to Cordelia, who crossed the room, her long, perfectly groomed legs peeking from beneath her robes as she poured two glasses and delivered them without spilling a drop or lifting her eyes to me.

I took the drink. I knew the drill. If I didn't, Lady Visha would end the meeting. There were certain battles I had to let her win, but the liquid burned all the way down, leaving a boulder in my stomach. I hadn't eaten, and mixed with the opium haze and poison, I could feel myself melting, my shoulders relaxing, my thoughts fogging over with each second that passed. Pressing my nails into the skin on my hands, I forced myself to focus. "I have no interest in my father's kingdom."

She clicked her tongue. The sound echoed in my mind. "Pity. My little Petals tell me Icharius Fern has moved his soldiers into Perth."

"Maybe you could tell me how a person no one has heard of managed to rise to king of the world in a span of days."

She stood from her desk, walking around to perch on the front, leaning forward as she dragged a finger below my chin without an ounce of fear. "What is that information worth to you, beautiful girl?"

I snatched her wrist, yanking her face to mine. "I've told you a hundred times, I'm not going to fall for your tricks. Keep your secrets, Visha. I'm here to make a trade."

Her golden eyes fell to Chaos, sitting at my waist. "What kind of trade? A desperate one, I hope."

"I'm not desperate."

"If you keep those silly morals, you will be."

"Refusing to kill isn't a silly moral; otherwise, you'd be lying on the floor, and I'd already be gone."

She stood, all dramatics and seduction leaving her tone. "Spoken like a magic wielder that doesn't understand what it's really like to taste the power. Tell me what you want, Deyanira."

She'd taken less time to crack than normal. Thank the old gods. Still, my tongue numbed, and the room rippled. "Five hundred coins and I'll let you see what I've brought first. Three hundred and you can buy it for less, sight unseen."

The trill of her laughter coiled around the room as she moved to a bookshelf and withdrew an old leather tome. A game. Bargaining gave her a high as potent as the opium haze swirling through her brothel. But she would never seem eager, nor rushed. Nor out of control of every possible scenario. I forced my eyes to focus, studying the tapestries on the walls, each depicting a lusty scene of two lovers tangled in various poses.

"Cordelia, would you come here, Petal?" The words had barely left her stained red lips before her favorite courtesan was at her side, eyes trained to the carpet, dark lashes grazing her pink cheeks.

"Yes, Lady Visha," she murmured as quietly and gently as I'd ever heard her.

"I need Everen from the peacock room, if you wouldn't mind?"

Cordelia bobbed down in a small curtsey. "Yes, Madame."

When the door clicked shut, Visha set her book down and came to stand before me. "Your father's throne is lost. It's wise to stay away from Icharius Fern. While you may have never heard his name, we in the Scarlet District certainly have. He beats my girls and shows no mercy if he thinks he's being pushed around. There's something very dangerous about him."

"Do you think he's working with the Maestro?"

She tapped the side of her nose and winked without verbally confirming. If Lady Visha was being careful in her own brothel, even in front of her courtesans, something was definitely brewing.

She gripped my arms and examined me more seriously than I'd ever seen her, golden eyes flickering in the lamplight. "The Maestro doesn't care for politics, and everyone knows that."

Watching closely, she waited for me to connect the dots she would not speak aloud, but the drink mixed with that fucking haze had fogged my mind. She'd never spoken to me so frankly, and though I would wager her aim was to create a false sense of security, I still had to fight to trust the tone in her voice. The desperation on her face. She may have had an angle here, but she wasn't lying.

There was a link between the Maestro and the real Icharius Fern, and if it wasn't about the politics, it had to be something else.

"The Life Maiden?" I mouthed without making a sound.

Shaking her head, she turned away just in time for Cordelia and a completely naked, black-haired woman to stride in, fingers clasped around the navy straps of two high heels, bouncing off her thigh as she walked. She didn't recognize me at first. Maybe my stance was too loose, my muscles too relaxed to be dangerous.

Her breath caught in her throat, giving away the exact second she'd figured it out. Stumbling over her bare feet, she nearly fell, trying to run back out of the door. Cordelia was faster, slamming it shut to stop her, as her mistress would have demanded, had she needed to.

"Relax, Petal." Visha moved to stand before Everen, drawing a manicured nail across her collarbone, up her neck, and to her chin before brushing a thumb over her bottom lip. "I will protect you."

The light's glow reflected off the tears welling in her soft blue eyes as she slowly nodded. I withheld my snort at the notion. As if she had any sway over Death's magic.

Lady Visha moved her hand down her courtesan's trembling arm, stopping just below the four red bands marking her a thrall. "Who do you see standing in this room?"

Everen drew her head back in confusion, eyes falling to me, then Cordelia and back to her mistress. "Just the three?—"

The brothel owner brought a swift slap down on Everen's hand before repeating the question. Without missing a beat, the woman answered. "I see no one, Madame."

"Good." The seductive and lingering tone to her smoky voice had returned. "Today, you have a choice to win your freedom. Shall we play a game?"

Her eyes doubled in size. "Will I have to leave? If I win?"

"Perhaps," her mistress drawled.

I shuffled my feet, feeling the heat of the alcohol creeping up my neck until I was sure my cheeks flushed, and the room had tilted.

"This is my home, and I'm safe in the Scarlet District."

This time, I couldn't help the huff of laughter. "No one is safe here, especially this close to Beggar's Row. Don't fool yourself, sweetheart."

Lady Visha's golden eyes snapped to mine. She did not approve, and I couldn't afford to piss her off. I apologized, but the words fell too easily from my mouth.

"Will you force me?" Everen asked.

"No, little Petal. Not today." She kissed the courtesan's cheek and turned away. "You see, Maiden, I'm confident you are desperate. You've lost your kingdom, you're bound to a stranger, and you've never had friends. I have to believe you are just like Everen and wouldn't dare bite the final hand that could feed you."

"Perhaps," I said, echoing the tone she'd taken with her worker.

She whipped around, moving in a blur. Her saccharine voice had vanished, revealing the serpent. "Do not mock me, Deyanira. It will serve no purpose. Do you want to make a deal with me or not?"

I almost answered. But saying yes might have bound me into a deal I certainly didn't want to make. "I will make no open-ended deal, Visha. No matter what you slipped into that drink, I know better."

"Perhaps I should drag this out further, give it a few more seconds to take effect."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I stepped toward the door, setting the trap. She was cunning, but so, so easy to manipulate. "Suit yourself. I'll find another buyer for my father's jewels."

"Stop," she barked. "I'll give you the three hundred."

I pulled the less expensive necklace from my boot, keeping it concealed within my fingers until she dropped a bag of coins at my feet. The pendant was worth that, if not a bit more, but had she paid the five hundred, I would have given her the satchel of rubies in my other boot. Lady Visha was a serpent. A magic-wielding thorn in this world, but she kept her girls safe, and by that choice alone, I'd never slight her.

She snatched the jewelry from my hand, examining it for several minutes, everything in the air shifting until it felt like this was her world and we were just living in it.

There were lessons to be learned here, though. A seed to plant among the gossiping prostitutes of Perth's underbelly, as I was dragged into my new reality with absolutely no one and nothing but Chaos at my side. When you dance among demons, you cannot be the weakest creature.

I stepped to the door, and Visha clicked her tongue, spurring Cordelia to move in front of it until her mistress gave me leave. But I was Death's Maiden. The last in a line of killers, cultivating a title to be feared and respected. Maybe I wasn't like those who came before me, but I was like no one else, either.

I pulled my infamous blade from my belt as the world swayed again. The grip along the groves designed for my deadly hands steadied me. I placed the flat edge of the blade to Cordelia's neck and smiled. "Don't let your mistress fool you, Courtesan. Those who feel safe are the easiest to hunt."

"Deyanira," Lady Visha shouted, the delicate thread of desperation riding the edge of her voice. "That is enough."

I glared, the dark walls beyond the brothel owner blurring. "Of the four people standing in this room, I hold the most power. Isn't that why you let me walk in here? Isn't that why you bargain with Death's Maiden? You don't give a shit about the jewels. You certainly don't need the coins you parted with. It's always a game for you. A challenge. Every word you utter serves a single purpose as you try and fail to trap me."

Cordelia's squeal as the edge of the dagger pressed into her neck was enough to hold Lady Visha in place. "I am not weak. I am not desperate. I could end your life right now and take this building as my own, and who would stop me? The new king? His guards? I am not afraid of them. Be grateful for my humanity, Visha. This conversation could have gone in a completely different direction."

It might have been the adrenaline from shoving steel into my veins, it might have been the lack of food or the alcohol, it might have been Orin's leftover poison or my weakening resolve, but whatever had happened, I didn't register my knees buckling until I was on the floor.

"All bark and no bite," Lady Visha purred, the honey returning to her voice. She moved to crouch before me on the floor. "This world can still break you, but I can keep you safe. Let me help you, Deyanira."

She held a hand forward, those eyes softening as she waited for me to take it. Cordelia murmured something, Everen answered, but the mumbling voices held no diction as if they'd been spoken underwater. I blinked several times, trying to clear my mind. She wiggled her fingers. "You can stay here, with me, forever if you'd like."

Each breath was a drumbeat, each blink, the cymbals crashing. My heart, my lonely, eviscerated heart, knew that I needed her. That I could trust her without question. But something in my brain warned me of the serpent, of the familiar taste of magic seeping down the walls.

The door slammed open behind us, breaking the spell as the last person I'd ever expect to see in Lady Visha's brothel strode in, her face as hard as steel as she grabbed my jacket and helped me to my feet.

Ro.

"There's a special place in Death's court for you, Visha," she snapped, shoving me toward the door.

"Yes," the brothel owner called back. "Anyone worth their death knows that. Do save me a seat, kitty cat."

The patrons and courtesans scattered as we stormed down the hall. I tried not to breathe in any more of the toxic haze.

"Unless you're here to get railed, Deyanira, you have to stay away from the Scarlet District."

"What the fuck do you care?" I asked, yanking free of her arm. "You're only around when it's convenient for you."

"Yes, Dey. I have a life and friends, and you aren't the only person I talk to. I don't sit waiting for you to come see me, and I won't feel guilty about that."

"No, you'll just hide and spy on the world from a fucking pedestal."

The last word was a slur, but as she stopped dead in her tracks, dark eyes lowering, I knew I'd struck a chord.

"I am the only one that has stuck by your side for all these years, Deyanira. Be careful how you speak to me."

I faltered. She was right, of course.

Taking a slow breath, letting the fury and adrenaline loose, I dropped my head. "I'm sorry, Ro. It's been a really shitty day."

"I can imagine," she said, the bite still riding the wave of her softening voice. "Go out the back door. I'll take the front and make sure no one is following us."

"Surely there's a mirror?—"

"Shh," she snapped, covering my mouth with her hand. "For once in your life, just do as I say, Deyanira."

The instant need to pull a weapon jolted through my arms and to my fingertips. My patience with people was wearing too thin. I said no more as I walked away from her, strolling to the opposite end of the hall, not hearing a peep from those hidden behind the sheer curtains. I shoved the door open, dragging in a deep lungful of fresh air before nearly tripping on the guard that had let me in. He lay knocked out in the alleyway.

Pulling Chaos on instinct alone, I cleared every thought from my mind as I stepped over the man and into the alley, moving away from the simple carriage waiting there. I lifted the mask to hide my face, but it didn't matter. The dancer from Misery's End with two different colored eyes slipped out from behind the carriage wearing a tight corset and long gown. The glare on her face hinted she wasn't bothered by the beast I'd become if she made a move against me. Orin Faber followed. I took three steps back before slamming into a wall of solid muscle. A man who might've been a giant in a past life wrapped arms of steel around me.

I fought like a wild animal until his grip slackened just enough for me to slip free, but I was slow. Orin lunged, and I didn't feel the blade go in, only the warmth as blood seeped from my abdomen.

The massive arms surrounded me again, knocking into the handle of the blade, ripping the hole until I screamed in pain. My inevitable submission as the dark-haired demon, my very alive bonded husband, moved in front of me with a victorious smile.

"Please continue to fight, Little Nightmare. I love a good challenge."