Chapter 47 - The Depth of their Curse

  Night had long since settled when The Scarlet Reaver and her accompanying small fleet returned. Jack's strength and senses were enhanced. He could hear water rolling up to Kovar's white beach before fading away. He could see the ripples of coming waves, glazed with moonlight like a layer of honey thinning till it reached the dark horizon. And he could clearly make out the smell of wet sand mingling with brine and sweat.

  Pirates and slavemen grumbled as they disembarked. Four of five galleys were in poor condition. Iron bolts stuck from the mast and deck. Sails had holes like torn garments worn by urchins. None had damage to the sides that would have sunk them, but it'd be a while before they were in ideal sailing condition.

  Jack put his hands to the back of his head as he skipped and whistled down the gangplank. Shadows stirred at the edge of town. Crow's ill-mannered flock come to spy. He'd be disappointed at Eksa's triumphant return. Doubtless that he had other devises in place for such an occasion. Or perhaps those too had gone awry and now he was planning again. Or seething.

  The pirates headed into town, their thoughts occupied by drink and food and gambling. Jack felt a responsibility to add to the merriment of victory, to play music and tell jokes. But this night didn't feel like the kind of night for that. It didn't feel like a night for anything. Not playing nor hunting. Aaron was below deck, sitting in his cabin like a mute since his encounter with the Xenarian knight. Viper was in the Umbra, his heartbeat sounding from an empty side of the ship, perhaps just stargazing from the cold world below. And Eksa was depressed beyond measure.

  There were three crescents in the sky, Leona's a little fuller than her two sisters'. Tonight, they appeared a frown when seen with a tilted head. And with a tilted head is the only way Jackrin could see them. His friends had sunken moods and so had he.

  Eksa was last to leave her ship. She was wearing that obnoxiously large coat. A coat too heavy for her delicate shoulders. It ruffled with her every stiff step upon the boardwalk. She reached the beach, kicked up a tuft of sand, closed her fists —cracking her knuckles— and then stormed toward Kovar. Jack shook his head. He trailed after her till he was at her side. Her perfume was dim now, swept away by turbulence brought forth from an arduous day, but it was sharp still in his nostrils with his better senses. As sharp as the scent of her virgin blood. “Going for a drink?” Jack asked.

  She looked his way before snapping her eyes back, as if in guilt. “Don't tell Aaron.”

  Jack whistled. It was amusing, how much of herself she willingly gave to him. She was the captain and yet obeyed when he hadn't taken the Xenarian warship. She was her own person and yet was afraid of doing something Aaron didn't approve of. Was this what being in love was like? Sacrificing one's selfish desires for another?

  Yes. Yes it was. Jackrin remembered clearly the taste of mould and insects as he gave what little bread he had to his mother. A mother who hadn't returned his love. He'd been forced to take it from her to make his escape. Forced by his own sister whom he thought loved him.

  He stopped whistling. “Your breath will smell,” he said. Aaron had given him a purpose. It was only right that Jack paid him back, even in this minute way.

  “But…” Eksa began. Her rebuttal was lost to the night's breeze. Full lips thinned and bent like frowning silver crescents. One half of her face was illuminated by candlelight spilling from a tavern window, and disappeared as soon as she stepped beyond. A majestic dusk.

  She pushed open the door to the tavern, letting escape raucous laughter to an otherwise silent street. “Red Serpent!” came the cries upon her entrance. Flagons filled beyond capacity were raised and clanked in the young captain's name, mouthfuls splattering upon the floor. She seated herself at the only empty table, Jack sitting next to her. There were pleas for him to sing and play music.

  “Later!” Jack said, wearing a false smile. Later when you're all drunk and no longer worthy of my art.

  Eksa ordered ale and a meal. She slipped a copper tip to a plump middle aged server struggling to not spill a single drink while stepping over stretched out legs. Pirates though they may be, everyone here paid for food and drink. Order was maintained to keep a semblance of organization.

  “Do you know what Aaron has against knights?” Eksa asked.

  Jackrin crossed his arms. “I can guess.”

  His captain waited for more. When he stayed silent, she said “And?”

  The server returned, placing a steaming slice of meat pie glazed with melted cheese before Eksa, along with a mug of ale topped with an inch of foam. “Sorry, Captain,” the woman said, brushing her fingers on an apron hanging over a plain grey tunic. “We've run out of potatoes and carrots. Shipments have been slow since, um, you know…”

  Eksa waved her hand. “It's fine. I'll look into it.”

  “It's mighty impressive, a young one like you having the respect of all of them,” the woman whispered, leaning in. She glanced at Jack, then back to Eksa. Something told him she'd misread the relationship between him and the captain.

  “Yes,” Eksa said. “And I gained it by killing all the wrong people. I'm sorry. I'll do my best to restore order to Kovar.”

  The server nodded. She clasped her hands and turned back to Jackrin. “And you, hon? Anything you'd like?”

  He flicked a silver quarter toward her. “A blueberry muffin if you have it.”

  “Er, we only have plain ones.”

  Jack sighed. “That will do.” The woman nodded and turned away. Her skin was damp and bright in the dim lighting of the tavern. Her pulse was rapid —not from work, but panic.

  “She's afraid,” Eksa said, staring into her mug. “She tries currying favor with me, knowing I have a grip on this side of town for now.” She turned to him. “You still haven't answered my question about Aaron.”

  “It isn't my place to tell,” he said, taking the mug from her and downing it all as she watched with a frown.

  “That was my drink.”

  “I know.”

  Eksa's hands closed. Her thin red brows furrowed closer to themselves. “Why is it always Aaron with you and Viper?” she said with a raised voice, though not loud enough to triumph over her rowdy crew. “You do everything he might do when he's not present. You obey everything he says without question. You'd think he was the bloody captain! I don't care if he doesn't want me to drink. I'm going to drink today!”

  Not the captain. But our captain. Our friend… and king.

  Jack meant to take every drink away from her. They never affected him anyway. “No,” he said. The girl didn't realize that she obeyed Aaron too, though her reasons were entirely different.

  “I'm not a child anymore! I'm past the age of adulthood.”

  Jack leaned back in his chair. He stared at the wood systems supporting the rooftop. Some beams were lighter in color, making it obvious which was new wood used to repair damages and which were parts of an older network. “So am I, Eksa. Just eat. You know as well as I that drinking won't get you anywhere.” He felt a hypocrite, saying that. Carnage was his alcohol. A temporary measure to hold back an insatiable demon living inside of him. It dragged him ever deeper into a pit of darkness like quicksand. That iron around his ankles never truly had been released.

  Eksa poked her food with a thin wooden fork. A pool of grease had formed around her meat pie. “It's a big slice,” she grumbled, just as a child. Jack heard her swallow a mouthful of saliva. Her stomach growled. She clearly wanted it. She raised the fork and a string of melted cheese stretched out along with it. Eksa breathed in and held it, sitting up straight and looking at her lap as if gauging the size of her waist.

  “We both know that fat won't end up in your belly,” Jack commented.

  She flashed a glare, but the server returned then with a plate of plain brown muffins. Eksa began eating her pie, complimenting the taste to make the woman smile.

  Jack picked up a muffin and bit in. It was cold, hard, and stale. As many crumbs fell as he managed to put in his mouth. But it was good enough to stave away the black of a restraining abyss, like a lone luminite pebble surrounded by the hollow silence of a grotto. He savoured every bite until he found his plate empty of even crumbs, a sticky mess left behind on the tips of his fingers.

  Eksa had near finished too. She was scraping up the viscous remains of golden grease, smacking her lips shut once the fork was partway inside her mouth. She flushed once seeing Jackrin's raised brow. “It was good,” she grumbled. After a long moment of silence she said “It's not food we should be having. This belongs to the townspeople that were once here.”

  Jack sighed, wishing he'd saved some ale to wet his now dried throat. His gaze flickered to his captain's throat. If it weren't for the intense smell of food in the tavern, he feared he might have lost control. He turned away and cupped his chin in his hand. “We take so often and rarely think of giving back.”

  “We'll take back this island and return to these people the lives that they've lost.”

  What of the lives that are forever lost? Or forever broken and never to return? There were contradictions in that sentence that Jack felt too tired to point out now. Perhaps if it was Aaron, he might have. Eksa was too brittle to play such a cruel joke on. “You'd be doing just as Aaron wants,” he said. “Obeying him like Viper and I.”

  “No. This is different. I want this too.”

  He grunted. “Why don't you go ask him yourself why he isn't fond of knights?” Jack said after a while.

  Eksa got to her feet in an instant. “I think I will,” she said.

  He frowned as she made her way out the door. Her heart raced. She'd thought of something else to get excited like that. Jack left the tavern too and stood in the middle of the road, watching his captain's back for any mishaps on her way back to her ship.

  ***

  Viper had his legs over the side of the Reaver. He gazed into the ever moving waters, black and endless like the Umbra at night. They were two sides of infinity, one a wall to the other. He could not traverse through water, cloaked in darkness though it may be. Not even shallow streams. Water was the Umbra's wall, so to speak.

  Viper had never been in water. It seemed a cold place, just like the world of shadows. But it harbored life. Beneath this flowing dark layer, there were fish, and plants and all manner of things. Something he'd never be capable of studying on his own. Something he wondered if there were books on.

  He clenched his teeth. He buried his face in his hands. Study. Books. Those were words belonging to Vi'An. What am I doing?

  That Xenarian knight, Eildred, had been strong. But Viper could have easily taken out the man's legs before he reacted. And yet he didn't. He reached toward the lights in the sky. Distant and unattainable gems. He closed his fist. “I wanted Aaron to fight that knight,” he breathed. “I wanted him to break his hate for Xenaria.”

  I am your king.

  He'd said it. The last of the Flame Bearers, owning up to his birthright, his responsibility. But Viper was a weapon. Not a guide. He had no right putting Aaron's life at risk for his own whims.

  If we go to Xenaria, then perhaps access to libraries…

  “Gahh!”

  Had the act been justifiable, or had it been selfish? Building the world they wanted to see. Viper swung his legs impatiently. When he'd been selfish, a child had died. When he'd been selfish, his father had been killed. Today, Aaron had almost been killed. “I am a weapon. And a weapon has no use if it is broken.”

  But Vi'An wasn't content with being a weapon. Vi'An wanted more. Vi'An wanted knowledge and justice. Vi'An was selfish. And he wasn't dead. It wasn't that a fragment of that child had remained. All of him had. He'd been on the verge of death when saved by Aaron. He'd been huddled in a shell when gifted a book by Eksa. He'd been emotionless and silent till cracked and made to feel laughter and annoyance from Jack. He was there. And he was slowly getting stronger, cracking the black iron weapon called Viper.

  Viper pushed back against that child. He didn't believe Vi'An was ready to come out from behind the weapon. Vi'An, after all, had just been a child and had yet to grow up.

  Clacking footsteps climbed the gangplank to the ship. They were thick and distinct, and echoed within the hollow space below deck. The steps halted just short of Viper. “Captain,” he said without turning. He was glad for another's presence. It helped take his mind off from things he had no desire to ponder upon.

  “Is it always so obvious that it's me?” Eksa asked.

  “It is.”

  “And what if it was an assassin mimicking me?”

  Viper was surprised by the smile upon his lips. “No assassin would bother to make noise, Captain.”

  “Huh.” She stepped up to the side of the ship and rested her arms on the ledge. “The sea is just lovely, isn't she? On quiet cloudless nights like these, she gets to bathe in star and moonlight. A true beauty unmatched.”

  “Is what they said about Lilith Lilac. Admire her too long and she might turn arrogant and vile, throwing up waves to toss away our ships from tainting her presence.”

  Eksa snorted. “The sea can be turbulent sometimes. Can throw tantrums even if ever the lands quake and rumbles at her in disappointment, but she'll never turn into something as hideous as Griva.” She shivered. “The illustrations of Griva in my children's books used to give me nightmares.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Viper observed her. “Do they still?”

  “Yes,” she said after a long while. “Sometimes I see her through her eyes as if I've become the monster.”

  “They're dreams only. After all, you're the only humane one out of the four of us.”

  “I don't feel it.” Eksa hugged herself and looked up. “Say, Viper, you came out today. You stayed out and fought that big knight.”

  Viper shrugged. “A calculated risk. He was strong. And everyone else was occupied with fighting the soldiers. I measured it would be safe to come out for a while.” A calculated risk.

  “You wish to stay outside more often, don't you? I mean out of the shadows and stuff.”

  “I do,” he said, swinging his legs again.

  Eksa chewed on her lower lip. “Hey, so, I should have told you this a few cycles ago when Aki left, but it just slipped my mind. You can take up residence in her cabin. You don't have to sleep in the cramped space with Aaron anymore. Starting tonight I mean. You can have your own room and bed, so you don't have to go to Aaron's cabin today to sleep.”

  Viper grunted. Eksa was a bad hand at hiding her thoughts. She'd be terrible at card games. He didn't need to face her to know that she was blushing. He was grateful for his own cabin though. It'd been a long time since he'd slept on a bed. “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Yeah,” she said. Clacking footsteps announced her departure and descent below deck.

  ***

  Eksa pondered upon Viper's words. Only humane one out of us four? Aaron is normal too, isn't he? She shrugged, stopping herself outside of Aaron's cabin. The door was open a crack. An orange line was drawn across the corridor from. She pushed it open, letting more luminite glow brush aside the void. The hinges gave hints of a squeak. They'd need to be oiled soon.

  Aaron was sitting on his bed with his legs over the side. His black coat hung from a hook in the wall. His shirt pressed against his lean form. Threads on the edge of his sleeves poked out. His large hands were clasped together and he was slumped forward as if deep in thought, greyish eyes holding something distant and old.

  Eksa seated herself beside him. She began twiddling her thumbs. What was your business with that knight? No. Too sensitive. How are you feeling? Obviously not well. Sweat coalesced on her palms. Was it right to even disturb him? Or was it entirely selfish, like her desire to take The Salamander without any concern for what that might mean for Xenarians and Lord Coraine?

  “You charged recklessly today,” Aaron said suddenly.

  Eksa blinked. She had. She'd half planned to die. The other half was full of contempt. Lord Coraine should have been aboard to kill her. Instead there'd been that knight —a too kind man who'd let her live long enough until Aaron intervened.

  “I did,” she said, beginning with a harsh whisper. She took in a deep breath and put words to her boiling emotions. “And I'd do it again… I'll do it a hundred times over if I have to! I'm done cowering. I'm done hiding behind you. I'm done being disrespected. It is because of my shortcomings that everyone keeps me out of the loop. Everyone seeks to manipulate me. Dhorjun, Crow, even Aki. I'm going to face my problems head on from now on. This crew is my responsibility. I'm going to be at the front and I'm going to make sure everyone here knows who the real captain is. And I'm going to keep doing it until I have a Flaming fleet capable of sinking Dhorjun and his lackeys. I'm going to take over this Basin and return order to it as there once was. I'm going to be the greatest sailor known in these parts. That is my resolve and I won't hear otherwise. Not from you, nor anyone else!”

  Eksa was breathing hard by the end of that, heart pounding. She'd made clear to Aaron that she was the captain, but…

  Eksa's face burned. She could feel the mocking chill of cold sweat at the sides of her nose. Flames. Everything she'd said held no weight at all in the face of her truest desire. She hadn't told Aaron what she really wanted and needed from him. I want you to walk with me while I do this, your hand holding mine.

  “Just make sure you don't die because of it,” he mumbled, still staring at the same spot on the wall. His voice was monotone. Uncaring. The glow of luminite seemed to sink into his pupils, feeding a desolate flame, rather than reflect from it.

  “Keeping me alive is your job!” Eksa snapped. She turned away and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She played with the ends of her braid for a while before her trembling fingers slowly undid them. “Of course you don't get to die either,” she then mumbled. “And just to be clear, I chose to abandon The Salamander today. It wasn't because of you. Had I brought it back, Dhorjun would have used it for sure. I'm not giving that bastard more power.” She was certain he didn't believe her. Assuming he'd even been paying attention.

  Aaron continued to sit mute, eyes upon the wood grain of the cabin's wall. Eksa gave up, deciding to take matters into her own hands. She nuzzled her face along the length of his neck, breathing heavily against him.

  He didn’t cooperate.

  Eksa growled in annoyance. She touched the vague stubble of his chin with her lips, trailing down to his collar, the scent of his skin numbing her thoughts. Eksa clutched Aaron's worn in her fist. Hold me damn it. Please…

  Aaron sighed, as if exhausted. Eksa felt tears well in her eyes. The strength of her grip tore away at his shirt, revealing the hard lines of his lean body. Her desire was only amplified. She squeezed his thighs, digging her nails into him, trailing wet kisses across his broad chest. He didn't flinch. Nary a twitch or even a reaction. Why? Why won't he respond? Am I really that dislikeable? Am I… Am I ugly?

  Her heart pounded in her ears. Eksa didn't stop. She lowered herself to her knees and undid Aaron's trousers, reaching inside and wrapping her hand around his warmth. It was hard at least. She looked up to him with a playful smile.

  But Aaron was frowning now, as if annoyed.

  A rage filled tear fell from Eksa's eye. She squeezed them shut, casting aside any thoughts of propriety, putting instead to use the vulgar knowledge she'd gained from spending too much time in taverns and around sailors.

  Eksa leaned forward and put her mouth to him. It was larger than she'd anticipated, hardly an inch of it going inside. But the thought of this… this vulgar man-thing entering other parts of her… It was electrifying. Exciting. The anticipation itself threatened to devour her.

  Eksa was dizzy with improper thoughts. She did more with her mouth, trying hard to solicit a reaction from Aaron. Her tongue glazed across his entire length. She familiarized herself with his shape, his taste. Her breaths became ragged. Eksa began undoing the buttons to her shirt with one hand, reaching behind to undo the laces of her corset as well. She poured her heart out for him.

  But he didn't do the same for her.

  Despair slowly corrupted Eksa's excitement. She was pouring her heart out for him, but he did not respond in kind. Eksa squeezed him in her hand and glared. “What in Flames is wrong with you!? Why won't you respond?”

  Aaron scowled. Scowled. He put a hand over his eyes and pressed his temples with his fingers.

  “Are you that uninterested? Burn you! Burn you to Ash! I hate you! Drunk Shuari suffocate me. I'll just go find some other man. It's too late to stop now anyway.”

  Aaron finally flinched, but Eksa was already rising to her feet. She thought she heard his teeth grinding down behind those thin closed lips. She didn't care. She stood up, leaving her corset behind. Her shirt was hardly buttoned now, breasts practically spilling out. Eksa planned to go out just like that until some drunk gave her the attention she deserved. It was too late to turn back anyway. She was sullied now. And she was left wanting, left in need of… something.

  She yelped when Aaron suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in. He gripped her hair and tugged hard, pulling her head back. Eksa cried out.

  “You're mine!” he hissed. He let his nails dig into her forearm and dragged it down.

  “It hurts!” Eksa wailed.

  “Shut up!” Aaron threw her to the bed, tearing away her shirt. He pulled apart her trousers before she could recover. Then he was on top of her, his form looming above, his shadow devouring her spirit. A draining sensation of fear kept her frozen. Aaron pinned her down, keeping one hand around her throat, controlling her airflow so she couldn’t resist. He glared into her pleading eyes that shed tears.

  “Stop. Wait,” she croaked.

  He didn’t listen and forced himself on her. He stared at her with wide eyes and half grinned with grit teeth as if revelling at his conquest. Revelling at Eksa's weakness. At her pathetic and miserable state. She cried, struggling to breathe. Her legs twitched. She nudged him with her feet, trying to reach him in any way possible. Her free hand pushed back, though weak.

  “Lay silent!” Aaron demanded

  “Please,” Eksa moaned. He thrust his entirety inside. “It hurts. Stop…”

  ***

  Aaron ignored Eksa's fading pleas. He let his nails dig into her throat. Felt them pierce her flesh as he continued to do so with every thrust. He meant to kill her. Meant to rid himself of the pathetic and helpless creature lying beneath him. Eksa closed her eyes, resigning herself to him. The flow of her tears did not stop. They streamed down the sides of her face and sunk into her red hair.

  Aaron slowed. His chest felt heavy. Disgust formed within and rose to his throat. He pulled away from Eksa and rolled on his back, lying beside her, a sweaty hand clamped over his mouth. Eksa's blood was in his nails. What was I doing? How was it any different than…? Aaron turned his head. The flame haired girl gagged, trying to catch her breath. “Mely…?”

  No!

  His own eyes sank with a sudden weight. He'd been lost in thought, seeking an escape from a responsibility he couldn't run from. “Eksa… I'm so sorry. I-I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. Why did I? How…”

  How was it any different to those guards in that guardhouse? To those that'd abused Carmin and Isabelle? How was it in anyway different to Orion and his deceptions, or yet any other man that'd touched Lera? Eksa spoke of going to another. But he couldn't lose her. She was his. His to own, his to protect, and his to behold.

  And now he'd thrown her away.

  Eksa rose and hung her legs from the edge of the bed, still whimpering. She stood and pulled away the scraps of her shirt from around her, using them to wipe the blood rolling down her thighs.

  Aaron thought she would leave. It hurt to see her standing close to the door, trembling. He wanted to stop her. But he'd lost the right to.

  But Eksa didn't leave. She didn't open the door and run like he'd anticipated. She should have. Instead, she wiped her tears and lay back down, curling up against him. Her warmth felt so, so very comforting. So precious. But he couldn't understand it. “Why? Go away. Why are you still here?”

  “Tell me you didn't mean it,” Eksa whispered, pressing her head against his chest.

  Aaron swallowed. He didn't deserve such kindness. He clutched her, fearing she would disappear during the night. He buried his face in her lush hair. She held him tight and wept against his chest.

  ***

  Jack walked aimlessly with his hands to the back of his head. He whistled the tune to Red Serpent, filling the silence occupying an otherwise dreary street. A silence that pushed against his short cut bangs and made leaves of palms wave farewell. The road felt loamy beneath his boots, each step taken without utterance. Late summer heat had siphoned away much moisture, though enough remained to add another layer of silence above the first. Like oil floating above water.

  His travels took him further and further from the glowing candelabra of South Kovar's inns and taverns. Here he found drearer, ashen remains of burnt homes and stores mounded together by fierce rain, mere pillars of wood left standing. Those that hadn't joined Eksa roosted beneath hung tarps or improvised rooftops. Empty barrels and glass shards lay about. There wasn't silence here. There was a timer ticking away and when it finally ended, these men would swallow their pride, either joining North Kovar or South. A rift was growing between the two, separated only by these charred grounds reeking of decay. Eksa still played her part as a loyal officer, but whether within a few months or years, a supremacy war would come.

  And this dying ground would turn vibrant again, brimming with screams and the essence of life. Through these streets would flow rivers of red. Carnage would ensue. And Jack would be in the thick of it all, performing his heart out for an audience come to see their last ever performance.

  And a masterpiece it would be.

  It would be a while before Jackrin caught himself cackling. Here, orange glowed at the edges of the streets again. He could make out the sounds of laughter and shouts trickling from poorly shut tavern doors. Could hear the sounds of moans hidden behind thin brothel walls. And could hear the whimpers and pleas of slaves being beaten and abused in some dark alley. Some Jack passed by, seeing clearly the torturous acts conducted within the light of shadow. Such was the gift of enhanced sense.

  His cackles had drawn the gazes of some and the slurs of stumbling drunks, but most knew by now to avoid the mad blond with the ponytail. Jack continued his stroll, whistling again. The smell of wine and fish soon replaced itself with that of soap and perfume near a particularly large building. One with flowering beds hanging from the sills of shuttered windows. The doors to the place were shut and guarded by two large men with spears. Dhorjun's favored soldiers. Former soldiers.

  Of all places to maintain order, a brothel. Jack would laugh, but the joke wasn't funny. He stood before the front gate and stared at the colorful array of flowers by the windows. If he focused, he could catch a whiff of their primal scent from which perfumes were based. His nose felt slightly irritated at smelling the cheaper kind when he'd gotten so used to Eksa's expensive bottles.

  The soldiers at the door shifted, holding their spears with both hands but not quite getting down in a fighting stance. They hesitated, not wanting to antagonize Jackrin. It was cute, really. He'd seen enough blood for the day though. And he'd had a drink not too long ago to not be overeager for more. Only virgin blood or extreme proximity to a blood vessel could shake the discipline he'd managed to instill in himself.

  Discipline. Hah! Do I really think of it as that? He started laughing spontaneously, making the soldiers shift again. Jack walked on. He paused to glance at a window again. A brothel. A place to experience the apex of love without any emotional attachment. A relationship borne of a monetary exchange. Jack was curious. Immensely so.

  He walked on, slipping into an alley and coming back around to the side of the building. Using footholds and his superior strength, he launched himself up, making it the third floor. A side window lay open, violet curtains all but still, their ends kissing the dusty surface of floorboards. The scent here was sickeningly sweet. It would be overwhelming had he not ample training being around Eksa.

  Jack saw everything this room had to offer despite the lack of light here. A small room, at the center of which lay a bathtub with foam floating atop. On one side was a shelf with colored bars of soap. Puddles lay everywhere, and wet footprints led to an open door. Jack walked toward it, resisting the urge to whistle. He stopped, grinning wide. Behind him were the taps of a softly beating heart. On more careful inspection, the puddles seemed to have been treaded through by a pair of slippers returning from the open door. Something sharp prodded his back.

  “Thief.” said a feminine voice. “Hands up or I'll stick you.”

  “That isn't any way to treat a guest,” Jack said. He felt his influx of air thin with the rush of excitement coursing through him.

  “Silence! There's no shortage of your kind since Kovar fell. As if we don't get paid too little already. At least the Black Fang maintains some order here. To think someone would climb three storeys just to steal.”

  Jack whipped around and caught the woman by the wrist. She was bare, dark wet hair stuck to her neckline. Her body curved in a most pleasant manner, thinning at the waist before widening again. Droplets of water still rolled down her pale skin, seeming like a melting ice figure in the dark. The woman's eyes went wide at being caught. They went wider still upon seeing Jackrin's beautiful face and illustrious smile. She tugged on her caught arm but gave up after a single try.

  “Hmm… It should take a thief to know one, nay missus?” He pulled her closer, staring into her onyx pupils. Her cheeks were high and nose sharp. A bead of water rolled from her forehead to her small red lips. “After all, you stole my heart with a single look.”

  The woman swallowed. Her heartrate picked up. “Er, we're closed for the night. But…” the knife in her hand fell, clattering beside her slippers.

  Jackrin watched another bead of water get caught on her collarbone. He touched it with a finger and rolled it down her centerline before curving it around a supple breast. He met her eyes again. “But?”

  “I can make an exception for one more customer. You will pay, won't you?”

  Jack untied a purse at his hip. It touched the floor with a satisfying clink. He swept his boot against her feet, taking her legs out beneath her with ease. She gasped on her way down but he caught her by the waist. Jack breathed down on her neck, taking in the scent of her blood. Something feral within him stirred. He held it back, his desire for pleasure just barely greater than his thirst. “Customer sounds crude. Think of me as your lover for what's left of the night.”

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  He smiled and picked her up. For Jackrin, seducing one more adept at those arts were of little consequence. He placed her upon a four poster bed with pink sheets. She tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him down before removing it over his head. The woman placed her hands on his toned chest as he leaned in to kiss her. His heart raced, as did hers. Jack felt a warm hand slip into his trousers and curl around him. He sucked in through his mouth as her soft fingertips traced his veins.

  The scent of blood grew stronger in his nose.

  Jack rolled over, letting the woman be on top of him. She let out a breathy moan when letting him in. Her pulse quickened and gasps continued to escape her mouth as she moved herself with the ease of a vessel riding across a silent sea. Jack held her waist with one hand and her thigh with the other. He lifted up his upper half and pressed his lips on hers as she continued to move. He could smell the blush on her cheeks as her tongue pushed against his. Jack gripped her rear and let his kisses trail across her cheek and down to the side of her neck. He felt her pulse on his lip. Felt the rush of blood flowing beneath her skin. Felt her wet hair between his fingers.

  The beast awoke.

  Jackrin sunk his fangs into her throat. Lost in the trance of her embrace, he couldn't stop himself. Pleasure pulsed at his nerves from both below and through his mouth. He drank. And drank.

  And drank.

  The woman went limp. Her pulse died. Her motions stopped. She slumped forward against him. Dead. Only then did Jack awake. Her blood still dripped from his canines.

  Jack yelped as he threw the corpse away from him. It flopped back, revealing a sweaty form with lain out arms, her head over the edge of the bed. Jack pressed himself against the backboard. He pressed his palms upon his temples. “No. No no no no. I can't. I didn't.”

  But he did. The aftertaste of his deed plagued every bud on his tongue.

  Jackrin wept. His weeping turned to cackles. His cackles to whimpers. And there he sat with his head tucked between his knees until the sun arose again. He dressed himself, plunged a knife into the corpse's heart, stole a few expensive looking belongings, and made a mess of the room. Then he made his exit, making his heinous crime seem naught but an accident caused by a desperate and devilish thief.