Page 35 of Born for Lace

Luckily, Tomar told me he wanted to show Spero the glowworm tunnels now that he is gazing around, assessing the world with fresh baby eyes, but I think Tomar wants to give me a break.

My upper neck and into my crown have been aching for a few hours, so I massage it as I head down the stairs to the lower level of The House. Tomar said that may be a symptom of the lactation medication I’m taking daily now with my spaghetti in a can and dried fish strips he prepares himself for me. He is a really kind man, and whenever he is near, I am so thankful for everything he does for me—for everyone.

Crossing the lower level of The House, I head into the ruby-hued room for the first time. A slow drum beats through the space, heavy, seductive, and only slightly louder than the murmuring voices. A fire blazes in the den, creating a halo. Men sit around scattered tables while House Girls, dressed in thin corsets and light skirting, dance on top, their bodies arching forward and luring backward to the steady beat.

Outside the glowing centre of the room, a shadowy ring blackens into corners and hides more beings. The silhouettes of men, of women—Endigo, Xin De, and Common, perhaps,— can only just be seen, but I feel the humming energy from one specific area. Lagos. I can’t be certain, but my body is suddenly awake.

Instantly hot and sticky, I smooth my shirt-dress down my stomach and flick my red hair over my shoulders, the long ends dangling to the small of my back. I approach a high, long counter and step onto a metal footrest fastened to the bottom to get slightly higher.

“Where is Sweets?” I ask the pretty blonde, who rolls her grey eyes at me.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

I sigh hard. “Why?”

“Because it will make him mad if you’re here. He seems to want you locked in that room.”

Not what I expected. I thought she would mention Sweets… My brows pinch. “Who?”

“What do you want?” Sweets appears from a dim outer pocket on my side of the bar, stopping just in front of me, forcing me to look up to meet her unimpressed gaze. “Not getting enough of Tomar and Lagos’ attention, huh?”

Oh my.Even in the dim lighting, the purple and red ballooning around her left eye is vivid.

My stomach knots. “What happened to your eye?”Whohappened?

“None of your business.” She folds her arms over her chest as the salacious scene continues behind her, our voices kept private by distance and the steady drum. “What do you want?”

I clench my jaw, talking through a cage of teeth. “Did Lagos do that to you?” I don’t know why his name is always the first to enter my mind. I guess I want to hate him. Want a reason, an incomprehensible reason, so I can convince my body to despise him also.

She shakes her head slowly. “You’re so jealous. A girl knows, ya know. You can’t keep his name off your lips. And I see the way your breath catches when he’s near. He has that effect on everyone; even the men seem to vibrate and get hard-ons in his presence.”

She must be out of her mind if she thinks beingtakenand beaten is what I want. I don’t know what I want from him.His touch.I just know that I wish it wasnothing.

“I know you don’t like me.”

She huffs a laugh. “How observant of you.”

“I don’t care. I have something for you.” I dip my hand beneath my shirt-dress and reach into the back pocket of my pants. Retrieving the felt purse, I hold it in front of me for her to take.

She stares at it. “What is it?”

“La Mu seeds and some roots.”

Her eyes widen and then land on me, but her entire body language has shifted. “Why?”

Everyone knows that La Mu is rare and illegal to grow or carry. Lace Girls are one of the only Trades besides Doctors who have stamps in the Half-tower to exchange for seeds. “You can grow the plant without soil. It grows just fine in water, but you will need to plant it somewhere down here that has at least a little crown-light. A gap in the cave somewhere?”

She blinks at the purse, unmoving. “Why?”

I know she is asking why I am giving it to her, but I pretend she is asking about the plant. “It is an incredible plant. A little bit of the root, no more than your smallest fingernail, is an anti-inflammatory. But the seeds…” I open the purse and show her the tiny grains. “The seeds are a contraceptive. We mix one into our tea every night. It has to beeverynight. You can’t miss one. The plant makes hundreds of seeds for a few months a year so you could have enough for all four of you if you grow four plants.” I look at her, at the blackened skin around her eye, and dark anger claws at me. “Use an entire finger’s worth of the root next time he visits you, ground it up and mix it into his liquor.”

“What?”

I grab her hand and put the purse into her palm. “They all drink liquor, right?” That is the royal, ‘they’, and she knows what I mean because she nods.

“Yes.”

I keep her hand in mine as I say, “Don’t let him do that to you again.”

---