Chapter Twenty-Five: I thought I was the dangerous one.
The ride to the Entertainment District was slow going. It was around sunset, which meant the city was transitioning between hunkering down for the night or getting ready to rip it up. The streets were packed, and we had come to a complete stop several times as we moved along the congested streets. When we started getting close, the traffic began to change its movement. Carriages were starting to flow in rather than out. I wasn’t sure how many theaters, arenas, or clubs there were, but it seemed like a general rush of people headed into the district to look for a good time.
It took about an hour and a half or so, but we finally arrived at Sybo Arena. Again, it was not the splashiest of venues. Maltz opened the door for us and offered a hand to the first girl to come out, which was Heather.
“Is this a Pit fight arena?” Heather asked as we got out. She looked up at the small sign illuminated by enchanted paint.
“Um,” I said. “Yeah.” I realized I had just told her about sports. I wasn’t sure what kind of activities passed for sports in this murder world, so I assumed she knew what I was talking about.
“Oh,” She said, looking up at the sign. “Hells yeah! I always wanted to see one of these.” She gripped onto my left arm. “Thank the Goddess.”
Leoleth slid in on my right when she emerged. She didn’t say much, but the sparkle in her wide eyes told me she was just as excited as I was. Patrons and party guests surrounded us, the latter far more extravagantly dressed.
Women wore gowns, dresses, and robes of every imaginable style. Men sported suits, robes, and hybrid outfits—some formal, some fantastical. Skin was on full display from both genders, the clothing bold and unapologetic, and the eye candy was aplenty. The crowd was a melting pot of races, primarily humans, followed closely by dwarves. The rest included elves, gnomes, lizard-kin, cat-kin, and even orcs.
A winged fairy strolled past, clutching the arm of a human. She was a head taller than him and supernaturally thin, making Leoleth look like she might need a Fantasy World Weight Watchers subscription. The fairy wore a sheer silken robe that left little to the imagination, her insect-like wings lazily waving as she moved.
She caught my eye, her golden gaze locking onto mine as she smiled. Tiny freckles appeared on her face, glowing faintly with magic. I felt a sudden jolt and had to remind myself to breathe.
Ahead, the double doors to the arena stood open. The left side led down to the arena floor; the right ascended to the office-slash-lounge where I’d met Sybo just a few days ago.
A burly minotaur stood at the base of the stairs, easily seven feet tall and nearly as wide. He was possibly the most enormous living being I’d ever seen. His bronze breastplate and armored skirt gleamed in the torchlight, and his hooved, hairy haunches reminded me of Gem’s. His massive, muscular arms—each as thick as my torso—were bare, and he held a clipboard in one hand, checking names on a list.
“Hi,” I said, looking up at him. He was at least a full yard taller than me. I tried to imagine what he looked like under that armor, and I almost couldn’t breathe.
“Name?” His voice was low and rich, and he rumbled with seismic vibration.
“Regan Moon.”
He looked down at the list of names, shaking his head. His horns had about a three-foot span, making the rejection visible to the entire neighborhood.
I just sighed. “Luna,” I said. “Just one name.”
“Huh.” He snorted. “Here it is.” He looked at me up and down. But then, with the height difference, it was more like down and further down. “How many?”
“Plus, two.”
“It says plus one, ma’am.”
“I’m sure Titus will be okay if I brought both my friends in with me.” I gave him the cutest smile I could. “Feel free to ask him.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Then let me and my friend in,” I said, holding up Leoleth’s hand. “And let the Cleric from the Church of Purity in on her own. And if you don’t want to let her in, I’ll check in with Titus when I get inside.”
The minotaur looked at Heather. Some mental gymnastics was going on behind his black eyes. He snorted and nodded. We walked by, and it was all I could do not to turn around and admire his massive physique from behind.
“Oh wow,” Leoleth said. She didn’t resist. “Might just break Squad Rules for that.”
The lounge was about half full or so when we arrived. There was a small stand set up just inside the door. I watched as people put their belongings on the counter and then placed their hands on a polished circular stone. Then it was my turn.
“Weapons and storage devices, please.” The attendant said pleasantly. She was a pretty brunette dwarf girl. She smiled when I put my ring on the counter. “You may access any items in your device from here or at the bar. As long as they are not prohibited.” I pulled my ring off and placed my hand on the stone. And a notification appeared:
CHECKED:
PERSONAL NULL SPACE STORAGE RING, GOLD BAND, DIAMOND.
A silk ribbon fed out of a slot on the surface, and the girl tied it on the ring before pulling it out of sight under the counter.
The lounge was the same one I met Sybo in earlier but was now set up for entertainment. The tables and chairs were arranged more thoughtfully around the room, allowing for a mingling space in the middle. A trio of Elvin musicians played the same kind of jazzy stuff that seemed popular here on the tiny stage. The room was strategically lit, highlighting the stage, the mingling area, eating surfaces, and the bar, but not putting so much light out that it would inhibit people attending from seeing the fights in the pit below.
A board was mounted to the wall to the right of the window with another attractive female dwarf attendant. It looked like a dozen or so fights were going on tonight. I had a look at it. There was a small, single-elimination tournament set up with eight fighters.
In between the ladder fights were some single one-off exhibitions featuring different matchups and a couple towards the end that just said TBD.
“There’s action!” Heather said, wide-eyed, looking at the board. “Give me some gold!”
“Get your own gold,” I grumbled at her.
“I don’t have any. I’ve been with the church since I was ten. We don’t have any money.”
“You never seemed short when we were on the road.”
“I get a per diem when we travel.”
“So, I’m supposed to support you while you hang around with me?”
“You support Leoleth!” She looked at me expectantly. She didn’t hold her hand out, but she practically vibrated excitedly.
“Okay,” I sighed, heading to the bar.
Ramin was tending, along with two others. He smiled at me when I walked up. Heather was right at my heels. Leoleth was already gone, having practically dived into the center of the crowd.
“Nice to see you.” He said. “The boss wasn’t sure you were going to come. He’ll be happy.”
“Thanks,” I leaned in. “Can you please give the Cleric from the Church of Purity here a two hundred GP line out of my gold?”
Ramin looked at Heather with an appraising look. “Is this...” he tilted his head, looking for the right words. “Some kind of costume thing?”
“No, I said,” shaking my head. “She’s the real deal, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t care if she’s your best friend,” he said, looking sternly. “There’s no way the boss will take money from one of Amania’s clergies.”
“Seriously?” Heather folded her arms. She looked pissed off enough to try out that smite spell.
Ramin stood his ground.
“Madam Cleric…” he started.
“Maybe we can work something out.” I interrupted. “Think about Wailkack.”
He looked up at the ceiling, searching for a solution before his eyes lit up. “Let me extend a credit of three hundred GP to you for the night’s entertainment.” He said to her, bowing slightly. “Complements of Titus Sybo.” He offered his hand to her, and she gripped it with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Oh! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she sounded like a little girl getting a bike for Christmas. She did a little hop that reminded me a little too much of Leoleth.
“You’re welcome.” He said with a huge grin. “I’ll have the attendant informed about your line.” He gestured to one of the other bartenders and whispered in his ear.
“Madame Cleric,” the other bartender said to Heather. “Would you like to step over to the board with me?”
“Of course.” She said with a stupid grin, and they headed off together.
“I’m not sure if that was such a good idea,” I said to Ramin when they were out of earshot.
“We may have just pointed her down a very bad path.”
“She needs some kind of outlet.”
“The boss would like to greet you.” He pointed to a door just to the right of the bar. “He asked that I send you in as soon as I saw you.”
“Send me in?” I said with a smile. “Like, I don’t have a choice?”
“Invite you in then.” He pulled out a glass goblet. “Here.” I wasn’t sure if he poured me a sparkling cider or wine. I grabbed it and headed to the door.
I stepped into a small, curved corridor with a door halfway down on the right. It was lit with warm yellow lights and matched the general décor of the lounge with dark wood paneling and wood-tiled floors. The door stood slightly open. I guess that was one of the things about Titus Sybo.
I poked my head in and waved casually. “Hi.”
Titus was reading a book while sitting on an enormous, I mean almost comically enormous, couch. The office was long and narrow. As I stepped in, I realized it was the same length as the lounge. It was decorated with shelves of books, a fireplace with comfy chairs, a small bar, and a massive taxidermy bear thing with horns on its snout and longer legs. A large desk sat against the far end by a window overlooking the arena.
I realized the couch was more like a daybed. With a single large mattress upholstered in satin or something shiny and smooth. He was wearing a purple double-breasted vest, a sleeveless white silk shirt, and a black skirt that went down to the ankles. His boots were off, set neatly on the floor under the end table. His black stockinged feet propped up in front of him.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“Ms. Moon.” He set the book down and bound to his feet, smiling and enthusiastic. The skirt swished around him as he walked. “I am so glad that you made it.” He strode to the door and bent over, kissing me on the cheek. His forwardness took me aback. It was a bit scary, but it made me a wee bit excited.
I got to get a good look at him. He was tall, just about six feet. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the top of the vest, revealing a hint of rich chest hair. Two gold chains were draped below the collar. He was older, but his arms were muscular, lean and strong, not bulky and for show. I’d seen men wearing skirts around the city before, but this was the first time I focused on it. The vest fit over it, and it flowed out in pleats underneath. I did feel a little robbed, being denied the view of his legs.
I thought about his handsomeness and his scars. They weren’t just on his hands, but they crisscrossed his arms as well, like a map of his violent past. I imagined him younger. Hardened, treacherous, brutal with sharp cheekbones, a large, noble nose, and a strong chin and jaw. Age had softened those frightening features into something that didn’t completely terrify me. But the eyes were still there despite his smile and graciousness. These were dark eyes that had seen and done things. And they were locked on me. A chill ran through my body. I’ve killed men like him.
“Gods,” I said, almost breathlessly.
“Oh.” He said, leaning back. The smile faded a little. “Sorry.”
“It’s not that,” I said, turning red. “Just a little unexpected.” I balanced my drink in my hand and leaned forward on my tiptoes. My dumb ass body and brain were obviously not agreeing on things.
He leaned down and kissed me again. Gently on the lips. Way to reward lousy behavior there, Regan! I shivered and felt all the hair on my hairless body stand up on end. He had such nice lips; they were soft and somehow still rugged. I leaned in again and stole one more before he leaned up and stepped back.
“Well,” he said. “Why don’t you come in for a little bit.”
“Just a bit.”
He chuckled, backing and pointing to the two chairs by the fireplace. Good thing, I’d jump his bones if we went to the couch. Then I thought about my stupid body and my stupid sex drive. This was the perfect test. He was someone I was attracted to. Sexy, dangerous, the kind of person I could fall for easily. So, don’t fall so hard that you lose control of yourself, Regan! We would talk, and if there was something between us, maybe we could see each other again—simple plan.
I settled into the left chair, which sucked me in with all the comfort of an upholstered hug. He took the one next to it after grabbing his drink off the table by the couch. He smiled, the excitement fading from our surprise kissing.
“I’m glad you came.” He said.
“Thanks. I’ve had a rough couple of days; I was looking forward to a party and some entertainment.”
“Yeah.” He said, his face serious. “Word gets around.”
“Oh, it does?”
“You’re not exactly a cut-purse or a courier. Are you.”
“Way to beat around the bush.”
“Don’t get me wrong.” He smiled. “I like what I hear.”
“A couple of nights ago, I took a delivery to Butcher Block Row.” I just decided to dive into it. If I was going to be looking for help, I needed to get him to trust me. Lying would be the wrong course. “I stopped some Red Hooks from capturing a girl.”
“That, I did not know.” He took a sip of his drink. “I heard someone took a couple of their guys out.”
“Three, actually,” I said. “Assassin Job went up to level 4 after that.”
“Assassin Job?”
“Who’s telling the story?”
“Sorry, but by the gods?”
“They tried to kidnap me the next morning, and we had us a fight.”
“So many questions about that.”
“I’m sure the rumor mill is exaggerating what happened.”
“The count was seven.”
“Maybe they got all tangled up on their equipment and tripped. It’s all kind of a blur.”
“One of them lost a head.”
“I’m sure he’ll find it.”
He smiled. “Like I said. I like what I heard.”
“The thing is, it’s kind of landed me in some trouble.”
“You mean Magistrate trouble?”
“Do you know, or are you just guessing?”
“Bit of both.” He frowned. “Upper Imperial business is a black box, so I have no idea what happens with the people there. Only that you were picked up and cut loose three hours later.”
“I made a new friend. His name’s McGruff.”
“And that the Captain of the Guard dropped you off outside your inn.”
“Yup,” I said, nodding.
He sat there frowning at me. Not in a mean way. It was more of a resting bitch face while he tried to get a read on me.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m a rifter. I’ve been here for around five weeks.”
“I knew it.” He was beaming at me. “I knew there was absolutely no way you would have just come out of nowhere raising all the Hells and bringing down the Heavens!” He clapped and chuckled. “You are an amazing creature.”
“So, I’m a creature, am I?” I smiled at him.
“I’m a creature too.” He said. The smile faded. “I thought you were something else for a little bit. Made me nervous.”
“You mean a predator?”
“Oh,” he said, taking another sip. “It takes one.”
“I’m not like that.”
“Of course you are.”
“What about you?”
“Like I said, it takes one to know one. You saw right through me like I was made of glass. You saw my hands. I saw yours. I have more scars, but we both have blood on them.”
He wasn’t smiling anymore. The edge of his mouth was slightly raised, not quite a smile. The eyes eased a bit. The look of hunger was gone. Something else was there.
“What’s your count?” he asked grimly.
“I don’t know.”
“Sure, you do. We remember every one of them.” He said that last bit slowly. “I’m a level fifteen Highwayman. My count is forty-seven. And yeah, I remember each one.”
I think I understood what I was seeing in his face now. It was longing. He had a mask that he wore. Banker, sportsman, pimp, playboy, retired adventurer, these were personas. Little lies he needed to tell the world. But what he was, what the mask covered, was what I was looking at right now.
“You ever tell anyone your count before?”
“No.”
“Why tell me?”
“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “Something I see inside you. Something about your face that’s familiar, I guess. Maybe looking at you, I see something I was long ago, before all the scars.”
I instinctively touched the line on my hand that Heather healed on the road. “What were you?”
“Same thing I am now.”
There was a slight glistening in those eyes.
“What would you say to the younger you.”
“Enjoy the ride.”
A chill ran through me. The coldness of his gaze returned, along with a smile that warmed me back up.
“I’m not saying I would do everything the same.” He shifted a bit in his seat. “But we don’t get to choose what we are. And fighting it is like boxing a shadow.”
“Twenty-eight,” I said after we sat for a moment. “Thirty with assists.”
“By the gods.” He sounded genuinely shocked. “In, like, five weeks?”
I didn’t think about it. Twenty-eight bodies in five weeks was quite the weekly average. But then again, my sexual partner count would seem high, considering the timeframe. But spread the stats out over twenty-six years and…Oh, fuck it; yeah, I kill a lot of people.
“Yeah.”
He held up his glass with a sigh. “To the Unnamed God.” My stomach lurched as he made the toast. Does he know that too? “When he comes for us, may he forgive our transgressions.”
“I heard he’s pretty chill,” I said, holding my glass up. Titus laughed bitterly.
“People hear Highwayman and just paint a picture of excitement and adventure in their minds.” He shook his head, finishing his drink. “Honestly, almost all those forty-seven deserved it at some level. I kept a lot of bad company. It doesn’t matter how long ago; the things we did are still the things we did.”
“You do more than just kill people?”
“I think I’ve opened up enough for one night.” He said it cheerily, but the message was clear.
“Got to say, not the worst first date ever.”
He laughed heartily. His spirit had returned, and the charm started to rev up again. “I didn’t think it was going to be a date.”
“Not exactly,” I said. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I do need some help.”
“Magistrate help?”
“I need to find someone in the city.”
“What do you need exactly?”
“I have a pile of charmed coins that will help me pinpoint the person.” It just poured out at this point. “But the range is limited. I need about thirty people sweeping the city until we get a hit. I only have until the last morning of the festival to find the person.”
“Done.”
“Just like that?”
“Of course not.” He said. “I’m sure you can return the favor at some point.” He smiled and settled into his seat a little more comfortably.
“You want to fuck me? Is that it?”
“That’s a given,” He chuckled. “But I wouldn’t be so crude as to make that a condition.”
Okay. I thought to myself. This is your chance to show a little self-control. I was not a slave to my sexual desires. I did find this man attractive, but I wasn’t going to have sex with him because I wanted to jump everybody. I understood how my body worked and how I could control it. And even if I had been with a few people, I wasn’t a sexual deviant.
Gem was someone that I connected with emotionally. She introduced the half-dwarf; what was his name? Nemdor. Right. And both of us shared a bed with Eric. There was the guy at the pub, but I was coming down off some mental trauma, and I was pretty compromised and a bit self-destructive. Is there someone else? It seemed like there should have been, but there wasn’t.
However: No matter what I did, I could not look away from him. I didn’t get it. He was a murderer. He was neither apologetic nor repentant. And yet, there was something more beneath it all. A quiet loneliness. He needed someone that could accept him for who he was. He wanted it so badly that he let his guard down, even for me… a stranger.
But: I was not a slave to my sexual desires. I may have been acting impulsively, and I may have a body that gets excited, but fuck all, I’m Regan Fucking Summer! I will not let a biological glitch fuck up my life.
I also knew exactly what I wanted.
I slipped out of my chair, crawled up to him, and kneeled in front of his seat. “You know what they say about half-elves?”
He reached down, gently placing his hand on the side of my face, but there was a little bit of strength behind it. The way he hooked his fingers. He was a man that was always in control. “I’ve known a few.”
“So, you wouldn’t be surprised if I did this?” I reached under his skirt. I ran my hand up, past the stockings, and between his legs.
He gasped at the suddenness of my action. “A..” he paused, catching his breath as I found what I was looking for. He may have acted surprised, but his body knew exactly where this was headed. “…little bit.”
“A little bit?” I pulled my hand away and leaned back, giving him the most impish grin possible.
He smiled down at me. “I’ve learned to look past the stereotypes.” He eased his knees apart, giving me more room to maneuver.
I was feeling reckless. “And what would you do with a little half-elf?”
He moved faster than I could comprehend. Before I had a chance to react, his hand gripped mine, pulling it away from his crotch. In one fluid motion, he twisted my arm behind my back, pinning me in place.
“I have a history,” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. He pulled me closer, forcing me to arch against the pressure on my bent arm. His grip was unyielding, like steel cables coiling around me. “Of pretty much doing whatever I want.”
For a moment, fear sliced through me. I had willingly stepped into this space, into a room with a man I knew was stronger, faster, and capable of things I couldn’t predict. My friends were just outside, only a few yards away, but they wouldn’t hear me if I screamed.
Reckless. You stupid little half-elf. It felt like I had wandered into a bear cave and decided to poke the largest one with a stick.
But in this world, playing it safe didn’t guarantee survival. So I leaned in, brushing my lips against his, then kissing him deeply. My tongue slid into his mouth, teasing him, giving him just a taste.
Oh, I wanted him. But not like this. I reached down with my free hand, grabbed him by the balls, and squeezed. He moaned in discomfort, but I pressed my lips to his, kissing him as deep as I could as I asserted myself. He shifted uncomfortably, but my kiss stifled any protest he might have. He released his grip on me, his hands hanging limply off the arms of the chair.
I applied pressure for another second and then let go. I pulled back from the kiss and held his eyes with my own. He reached back up, holding me gently this time.
“So,” I whispered. “History is going to change.”
I broke contact, laid my head gently on his chest, and let out a long, deep, contented sigh. My hand drifted lazily between his legs again, all gentle and sweet, easing the pain I caused.
“I’m a fool,” he gasped, shaking his head.
“Why?” I purred at him.
“I thought I was the dangerous one.”
“You’re learning,” I whispered as I slid down between his legs.