Page 171 of Eternal Craving

Marcus gave a nod, eyes half-closed, dazed and delirious from the scene.

Glancing down at the man at our feet, I threw him a smile. “Nice jacket.” I stepped back and headed out of the room, following the pathway of petals, once again crushing them underfoot. I strolled out the back door into the garden.

In the corner was an ornate fountain, a stone angel pointing a bow and arrow right at me, out of which a stream of water poured. Nearby, under the low-lying leaves of a maple tree, lay Sunaria. She reclined upon a burgundy chaise lounge, surrounded by several admirers.

She smiled when she saw me. With my subtle gesture, she knew to remain seated. I needed some to cool off. Marcus wasn’t the only one left breathless. Thoughts returned to our kiss, and I gave a wry smile, wondering how much longer he’d lasted after I’d left.

Breathing in the exquisite scent from the many exotic trees and flowers within the garden, I tried to get a feel for the place – and feel an affinity for the people, find a commonality that would help me believe I belonged.

These open-minded individuals had been invited into our private world, to one of London’s most exclusive parties. Madam Rouge had established what could be best described as a gentleman’s club, offering its guests a rich assortment of erotic entertainment.

Words flowed along with the liquor. Controversial conversations were encouraged and guests were sworn to an oath of secrecy. Delicious foods, tasty delights were offered up in abundance, rich delicacies that satisfied the palate and stirred one’s passions, setting the mood for what followed.

Taking a seat in the corner enabled me to have a discreet vantage point. Sunaria held court, arguing with a young fop who failed miserably to impress her. It amused me that we’d both developed flawless English accents, two iconoclasts living it up, the ultimate aristocrats, easily mingling with mortals, and often receiving frequent glances of respect from our fellow immortals.

London continued to flourish.

We were witnesses to the city’s growth. Increasing political stability brought an increase in business and athriving economy. Architecture had advanced in both common structures and the homes around us. London had become the center for European trade, introducing the newest fashions, entertainment, and both modern and ancient art. Westminster became established as the seat of the royal court and here too, England’s political office grew in power.

Urban crime, such as that of street gangs, became more discreet, with the threat of hanging as a form of punishment for commoners. As their activities became subversive, it transformed into a feeding ground like no other.

An argument pulled me back into the garden. Two men were fighting over a young brunette. Madam Rouge stepped in to intervene, and with aplomb offered the woman to both of them. Several mortals strolled by gawking.

A servant topped up my cup.

Sunaria approached and flopped onto my lap. “Well,” she said, “what do you think?”

I wrapped my arms around her waist. “This is a den of iniquity.”

“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”

I sighed.

“You used to like this sort of thing,” she said.

“My tastes have changed.”

Sunaria whispered into my ear, “Do you see anything you like?”

Glancing up at the bedroom windows, I wondered what kind of guilty pleasures Marcus might be enjoying.

Sunaria followed my gaze. “Let’s throw a party like this at Belshazzar’s.”

“Let’s not.”

Just as I started to explain that I didn’t want strangers strolling all over our home, Madam Rouge appeared, looking frantic.

“It’s time to leave,” she said.

Sunaria pouted. “What, why?”

“One of my staff just let in a new guest.” Madam Rouge gestured towards the house.

Despite the long, dark cloak and heavy hood over his pale face, I recognized those piercing eyes. I jumped up and almost knocked Sunaria to the floor.

“What’s going on?” Sunaria easily regained her balance.

“Out the back now,” I snapped. “Elijah’s here.” I headed for the side of the house.