Page 1 of Worse Fates
Prologue
Spain, 1801
Drinks flow freely in this house of sins.
Dancing girls flutter around, pouring red wine down their exposed breasts to tempt men closer. For a fee, of course. The drinks are cheap but plentiful, and are more to my taste than the pretty girls.
But I laugh and dance with them all the same.
“Not enjoying yourself, Lucero?” Vidar calls from where he lies sunken into plush pillows, both thick tattooed arms wrapped around women dressed in nothing but silk.
Grinning, I drop beside him, sweat dripping off my forehead as one song ends and quickly becomes another. Nodding my thanks to a slim woman refilling my empty glass to the brim with watered down red wine.
“How could I not enjoy myself, Vidar? The music is good, the company is good, and the wine?” I gulp half the watered down red to the cheer of drunken revellers, then smirk like the devil himself. “Good.”
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten your needs, Luc.” Vidar’s hand slaps a girl’s arse and she screams in delight.
“Naughty boy,” she giggles, playing with his short silver hair as he squeezes her.
He grins and captures her chin. “My friend here has different tastes.”
The woman on his lap flutters her eyelashes. “You have a preference for cock?”
I answer her with a tilt of my drink, unashamed and blood heating at the promise of pleasure.
“Always the handsome ones, such pretty blue eyes, too.” She lifts a hand to beckon another beautiful woman close.
“And what am I?” Vidar teases in his deep, commanding, growl.
“You’ll have to show me,” she teases in return, then turns her attention to the woman she called for. “Holly, love, please take our lovely Lucero to the back? He’s awfully bored out here, and we simply can’t have that.”
Holly’s eyes travel up and down my body, a slow seductive appraisal that I can appreciate but the effect is wasted on me. Instead of insult, humour flashes across her features as she inclines her head for me to follow.
Climbing to my feet, I’m led between dancing half naked bodies and opium clouds, to entertainment I’m ready to lose myself in.
Vidar really does take me to the most wonderful places.
Behind a partition, Holly escorts me to a bathhouse heavy with steam scented with roses. Here, naked men drape across customers, talented fingers massaging oiled backs or mouths wrapped around cock.
I peruse at my leisure each handsome face, and all the delicious sights laid bare. I have eternity, afterall, and feel no rush to find a playmate when what's on display is already so much fun to observe. The sounds of moans, and flesh slapping against flesh, hidden behind red curtains only piques my curiosity, and pulls at my growing need.
“What’s your flavour?” Holly asks, her voice far away as every sight and scent catches my attention.
“I’m not picky.”
Tossing back the rest of my wine, I discard the empty glass on a table, strolling like a king through a garden of flowers ready to be plucked. It's laughable, really, when I’m nothing but a conman in fancy clothes.
“But,” I add with a grin, “I do like a pretty face.”
“I know just the—”
A scent; midnight sweet and strong enough to knock me on my knees. Even from the hint I’ve managed to catch.
I move, stalking towards that perfect scent. The girl calls my name, thepit-patof her bare feet on wet tiles as scurries after me. But she’s forgotten as I push aside a heavy red curtain to reveal…him.
A halo of curls so blonde they might as well be spun gold, frames his oval face. Small, sweet eyes, rounded in shock when they land on me. My feet move without permission towards him, an instinct I couldn’t resist for all the money in Spain.
“Have we met before?” His voice is deeper than I’d expected, carrying a dream-like quality, as if he’s just woken from a long sleep. “I know you.”
