Chapter 116: Relentless Revelries

  Isa never expected to end up leading anyone, let alone one of the largest whorehouses in all Orchrisus. When she’d moved to the city against her clan’s wishes and started fleshsculpting her way into a body better suited for her, she started at the bottom. Prostitution was an easy way to make a living off of the carnal hungers of men with a specific hunger for dusk-girls who hadn’t fully transitioned.

  It also made her feel desired as a woman, but that had long since worn off and been replaced with cynicism. Isa didn’t hate what she and the others did, but it had never been the calling it was for Razia or Samantha…until it had been.

  Despite her initial resistance, she cared deeply for the safety and prosperity of her sisters. It may have taken her a long time to accept that things were improving, but even a stubborn Ramali bitch could admit when she was wrong.

  Mostly wrong.

  “Who did this to you?” Isa demanded, tilting Rachael’s chin to the side so she could better look at the bright red bruise and puffy eye. They were in the third house’s dressing room, and they had an audience of whispering, gossiping busybodies just a few feet away.

  Rachael winced and tried to pull away, but Isa tightened her grip and forced the young woman to meet her eyes. Three seconds later, she broke. “Brad. The new guy.” She shivered, and then the words became a downpour. “Last night, when we were closing up, he asked for a last minute fuck, and I didn’t have anywhere to be so I said yes, right? And it was fine at first, but he got rough and I told him to stop, but that just made him mad and he…”

  Isa inhaled sharply and released her. “And you weren’t going to tell anyone? Were you going to pretend it didn’t happen, maybe cover it up with some paint and laughter?” Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she longed to sink her nails into tender flesh.

  The girl shrank under her withering gaze. “I just didn’t want to cause any trouble,” she started. “He didn’t mean it and -- “

  “Didn’t mean it?” Isa snarled. “It doesn’t matter if he ‘meant it’. What matters is that he hit you after you said to stop. Do you think we should allow an untamed beast among us because it might upset someone to speak up? That’s not how we do things here. If you have a problem, you come to me and I deal with it. Am I understood?”

  It was a testament to Isa’s fire and fury that Rachael wasn’t the only person to say, “Yes ma’am”. Around the room, at least seven of them said it, straightening up as they did so. Isa took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re not working tonight, and that bastard is going to pay you for the lost wages.”

  Without hesitation, Isa left the room and the house behind and stomped her way through the courtyard, where they’d already started setting up wine and fruit for their customers. The open square was decorated by brilliantly colored alchemical lanterns, casting a rainbow of light over everyone, spinning chaotically. Their own security had replaced the ones formally taking care of the neighborhood, and she spotted Brad immediately.

  He was a slim, dark featured man of medium build, and a savant with the ability to feel metal around him. It made him perfect for spotting concealed weapons, but it also left him arrogant and entitled, as so many savants were. He rested against his spear as he chatted with his friend Bindie, laughing at something the man said.

  Brad turned to face her just as Isa drove her first into his nose. Her knuckles exploded with pain, but judging by the cry of pain and the way he went down, she got the better end of things.

  “What the fuck,” Brad started, but Isa kicked him to keep him down. No one moved to stop her.

  “I should be asking you that, asshole. What the hell were you thinking, hitting one of the girls? Do you forget what you’re here to do? Do you forget what happens to those who forget the very first rule of working here?”

  Brad looked around incredulously as blood flowed from his nose. If he was angry, it was beat out by the surprise of being punched by one of the women he was hired to protect. “I didn’t mean to! I was drunk and -- “

  Isa kicked him again, and again. “That’s not an excuse! You owe her an aquilo, and then you’re going to ask her for forgiveness. If she gives it, you might still have a job here.”

  He opened his mouth, possibly to argue, when Bindie cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure he does. Sorry for the inconvenience, Isa.”

  She took a moment to level her glare at every man and woman assembled there, guard and whore alike. If any of them had anything to say, they were wise enough to keep it to themselves. Without another word, she stormed to their second building, musing that they needed to give the houses names before too long.

  Jonas waited in the main room as their people cleaned the area. Seeing her, his eyes lit up in a way that continued to vex her. “Isa! Just the woman I wanted to talk to. I think I’ve found us another band to play in the courtyard.”

  In spite of her anger, Isa paused. “Really? Are they any good?”

  His smooth, handsome, baby-face twisted in concentration. He wiggled his hand. “They’ll get better, and they’re willing to take reduced pay. Not as good as Lina and the Coquettes, but they’re getting restless, playing most nights.”

  It was surprisingly difficult to find good musicians in Orchrisus who fit their needs. They’d cycled through a few bands, but people either got distracted by the public sex, greedy, or burnt out from the strain of going for hours each day. They had the shards to bring more people in, but they had reached a plateau when it came to expanding. Isa was smart enough to know that this is when one focused on infrastructure and stabilizing the business.

  “Then tell them to show up here tomorrow at three, and I’ll listen to them. I’ll even bring Lucy along, so they aren’t intimidated.”

  Jonas grinned, and for a second, Isa’s heart fluttered. He really was a pretty young man, even with new injuries marring his face. He looked good with scars, but he still was smooth-skinned and young. He too, was in a state of in between.

  “Fantastic! And how’ve you been, Isa? I feel like we don’t get to see each other as often.” He looked hopeful.

  Isa rolled her eyes. “That’s because you moon over me anytime we’re together. Spend more time with Cullen. He likes and wants you. Also, get control over your men. One of the new guys assaulted Rachael after hours, and she tried to cover it up out of fear. Do something about it, or I will.” Without another word, she stomped away, leaving him looking surprised and hurt. Maybe it would drive the point home and he’d stay on top of things, instead of needing her to inform him.

  The act of walking away put her in a better mood, and made the rest of her rounds easier. The food and drink were ready, overseen by people they vetted carefully. There’d be no more poisonings after Samantha barely survived it. The weapons lockers were all staffed by two men, and the fifty men and women who would perform tonight were made up and ready to play, but Isa continued to obsessively stalk around, looking for problems for another hour.

  Instead, she found people dancing, kissing, and laughing. Clients feasted on grapes fed to them by beautiful women, and plenty of couples shared the massive tubs, now cooled to stave off the summer heat, lingering even at night. The guards were mostly behaved and unobtrusive, and the clients well-pleased.

  It was almost frustrating. Isa hated feeling like she could drop her guard. It never ended well, but of all of their problems, very little of it was at the Moonlit Garden. Eventually, she did relax and allowed herself a drink and some quiet in Quentin’s house, where Lucy knew to get her.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Her lover found her lazing on the lounger under the skylight, looking up at the stars. She pretended not to see him at first, and instead just took another sip of wine and kept her eyes skyward, until he stepped into the light.

  “It’s odd to see you not hovering over people and barking orders,” said Quentin, arms crossed over his chest. “You getting soft, Isa?”

  Isa tilted her head towards him. He wore a soft, barely perceptible smile that made her want to hit him before she gave in and kissed him. “I’m too good at my job. There’s nothing for me to currently worry about, and both Razia and Lucy are around in case things get too hairy. Unlike you. How many people did you have to torture today?”

  “Depends on your definition of torture,” he said airily, sitting down on the edge of the couch. He put his hand on her thigh and slid it up her dress. “I’d say only one, but the night is still young.”

  Isa clamped her legs together, trapping his hand. She finished off her wine and set the goblet on the tiled floor. “Do you really think I’d let you touch me after a day of being a bastard? You’re going to at least need to wash up first, you filthy beast.”

  The words no longer had any heat in them, only the tried and true playfulness of their dance. His hand circled around her leg and squeezed it, hard enough to remind her of his strength, soft enough to let her object and pull away. She didn’t, and a familiar thrill went through her.

  “I thought you liked it when I’m filthy,” said Quentin as he leaned down to kiss her.

  Isa turned her head, and he buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply. Her entire body came to life, electrified and in tune with her rising heartbeat. A deep ache settled in her stomach as his lips brushed over her skin, and then his teeth as he bit down. She buried her hand in his short hair and pulled on it, hard enough to hurt and pull him away.

  “I like it when you’re dirty…” she said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his jaw. “And firm.” Another kiss. “But not…” She tugged harder and then violently shoved his head away. “Not when your hands are unclean. And I can smell blood on you. How rough was it today?”

  He sighed but relented for the moment. “I saw six total people, and I had to persuade half of them. Three fell in line, two needed convincing but said yes, and I’m going to try again in a couple days for the Bartle family. That’s probably why you smell blood. Their son attacked me, and I had to teach him some manners. Gently,” he added before she could protest.

  “Define gently, if you want to have a shade’s chance in hell of touching me.”

  Quentin showed her his right palm. “He stabbed me in the hand. I did the same thing back, and then gave him some money to get dinner after he gets it looked at. I’ll have you know I didn’t raise my voice once. And I washed several times, too.”

  His tone was light, flippant even, but it still carried the undercurrent of honesty Quentin always had. It was one of his best and worst qualities, and would make him a more fair ruler, and a weaker one for it. Isa knew well the balancing act he had to maintain in order to run the Boulevard without faltering. It was her role, she figured, of making sure he didn’t get too big for himself.

  “Mm. I suppose that has to be good enough,” Isa finally said. She raised a hand for him to help her up.

  Quentin ignored it, and instead slid both hands underneath her and scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. Isa didn’t have to feign her scream of surprise as she clutched him for stability. He wore an insufferable smirk as he held her cradled against him, even though she was only a few inches shorter than him and not very light.

  “Bastard,” she muttered as she clutched him. He smiled in his soft, infuriating way before kissing her.

  It started softer than usual, like a soft sigh of relief before Isa nipped at his lip and sparked the flame. Quentin attacked her mouth with his as he brought her over to his bedroom and threw her on the bed. She bounced and had just enough time to move before he joined her on the bed and covered her body with his.

  He trapped her there, and she pretended to fight back, squirming and pushing until he took her wrists in his and pinned them above her head. Isa felt his growing excitement brushing up against hers. Dimly, in the back of her mind, the music in the courtyard trickled in, along with the sounds of laughter and a moan.

  Everyone else was having fun. Why shouldn’t she? Isa surrendered and exposed her neck. Quentin latched on, the joy of his touch compounded with just a tiny taste of pain. She wanted this. She needed this. She wrapped her legs around his waist and spurred him on.

  An hour later, they lay in a tangle of limbs, with Isa on top of Quentin and listening to his steady heartbeat as he breathed. The soreness was welcome, but now she desperately wanted a bath. She was in the process of debating inviting Quentin for a soak when he sighed again.

  “What?” Isa demanded, raising up enough to glare at him. “Now that the fun’s over, the darkness is back and haunting you? Tell it to fuck off and enjoy the afterglow more.”

  Quentin laughed and brushed a strand of silky black hair back behind her ear. His slow, even breathing was hypnotic, and even with her feigned irritation, it threatened to lull her to a light doze. “Nothing like that. Just wishing that I had more time like this. I worry, sometimes, about being too busy for you and Razia. To keep you both happy.”

  And there it was, right on time. Isa sighed back and rested her head against his shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. And we both know Razia will get her satisfaction anywhere, so long as it doesn’t bother you. Besides, we both know I need recovery time, if it’s at all satisfying.”

  He chuckled, and the rumble made her tingle, although she’d never admit it. She’d been telling the truth, and the soreness after was always worth it. Boys like Jonas could be fun, but they didn’t know what she wanted and needed.

  She nudged him again, and said, “So, why don’t you spend the rest of the night in here? I’ll get more wine, we can take a bath, and tomorrow you can go back to worrying about all the crap that gets in the way of all the fun. Let that other bitch deal with things for a night.”

  Quentin made a thoughtful, hopeful face. “You don’t have to twist my arm. Razia, who does not appreciate being called the other bitch, by the way, can handle it.”

  Isa shrugged and sat up, sliding off of him and onto his plush bed. “She can also handle being called the other bitch. Get your ass up and be ready to pamper me.”

  “As you command,” he said, chuckling. They were both on their feet and about to kiss again when there was a knock at the door. They shared a look of frustration before Quentin called out, “Yes?”

  The door opened, and Lucy peeked her head inside. She didn’t look surprised or bothered by their nudity, and neither of them bothered to cover up. “Mr. Q? There’s someone here to see you.”

  Isa crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled like it was his fault. “Of course there is. Right when it’s my turn to relax and have fun.”

  Quentin had the good grace to look apologetic. To Lucy, he asked, “Who is it?”

  The teen hesitated for a second. “The Supreme Arbiter,” she said. “He told me it’s important. Should I give it a few minutes and let him inside?”

  He winced, and Isa knew he was already gone. She shoved him towards the door, and then paused and threw his clothes at him. “Go deal with it and then come back to me. If you’re gone all night, you can sleep outside.”

  With a bemused look, he said, “But you have your own room that doesn’t involve me. Why would I sleep outside?”

  “Because I told you to, obviously.” Isa grabbed her own silks and began winding them around her chest, working her way down. “Go, get business done. The Supreme Arbiter wouldn’t show his face here if it wasn’t important.”

  Quentin nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead, and Isa pretended to tolerate it and not actively desire it or him. She shoved him again, and he stumbled past a patient Lucy, who waited in the doorway.

  When it was just the two of them, she said, “Sorry for interrupting you, Isa. Did you have fun?”

  Isa smirked, her dark features turning downright wicked. “What do you think, Lucy? You missing some of the fun?”

  The pale girl didn’t flush, but she did look away. Out of all the people at the Moonlit Garden, Isa teased her the least, but that didn’t mean she got away unscathed. Especially not when she saw the way Lucy looked at them sometimes. It wasn’t petty jealousy, but it felt like gentle envy. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that Isa was territorial and liked to stake her claim.

  “It’s not like that,” she finally answered with a crooked half-smile. “It’s just nice to see you happy. You look like you needed this, and I’m glad for that.”

  Isa was thrown for a second, but she hid it under dark laughter. “I guess sometimes we really do just need a good fucking in order to keep our heads on straight. Anything else happen during my break?”

  Lucy thought about it for a second. “Samantha showed up, and is having a few drinks with people!”

  Her mood, already fairly positive, shot up. “She’s doing well? It’s been a couple weeks,” Isa said.

  “She’s able to speak a little easier now. They found a potion that’s undoing some of the damage!” Lucy’s bright blue eyes sparkled, even in the dim bedroom light.

  “Well,” said Isa, “I must go say hi and make sure our dear Sam really is on the mend. Shall we?” She offered her arm to Lucy, and they left Quentin’s bedroom and headed for the garden, doing their best to not disturb him or the Supreme Arbiter on their way out.

  The eternal party greeted Isa, and this time she let herself lean into it and relax. The music was sweet, the wine flowed, and the dance continued. Sometimes, it was okay to enjoy it and not worry about life.

  There was no telling when things would get more complicated.