Page 16 of Demon Food

“We have a situation,” she said, swallowing as she panted. “You need to come right away.”

Jaxlyn adjusted his spectacles on his nose. “What is it?”

“There are vultae here. Four or five. They say they’re from the palace.”

Jaxlyn and I both balked as we asked in unison, “The palace?”

“They came in two separate carriages, because like I said, there’s a lot, and one of the carriages is, oh, my gods, fancy. You won’t believe it.”

Jaxlyn’s face had lost a shade of color as a divot in his brow creased. “Wh-what do you mean? Fancy how?”

“It’s silver. An honest to gods silver with a blue trim, and it’s so clean. I’ve never seen one so clean.”

“Why would…?” Jaxlyn whispered to himself beneath his breath, his head shaking a bit. “Where’s Terrek?”

“Gone already.”

He cursed, chewing his thumbnail. “Are we in trouble or something?”

Her gaze wandered the walls as if she was deciding. “Don’t think so. Doesn’t seem that way.”

“Well, then what do they want?”

“It’s a brothel,” she said, offering a shrug. “They probably want to eat.”

“Eat?—shit. Shit, shit. Of course. Okay, round up all our best ones. Go get Sindell, she’s upstairs with someone. If she’s drowsy, give her some wake-berry juice. Is Andres still with fever? Doesn’t matter. Drug him too, if you must. And Feloré, where’s your earring? Get your earring in. I need you in your nook.”

I stepped from the bath, stumbling when he grabbed my shoulders and yanked me into him, burying his nose in my neck to sniff me.

He shoved me away again and pointed to the tub. “Get back in there. I’ll run you some fresh water.”

6

There’d never been such a buzz in the brothel. None of the concubines knew what to do, sitting at too high an alert on their sofas as four huge vultae soldiers spoke to Jaxlyn in low voices that made it impossible to make out what they were saying.

They looked out of place in our tiny, kitschy brothel in their polished silver armored breasts over thick cotton frocks of silver and midnight blue—the palace colors—each of their garments embellished with the Novithian crest.

Every whore in the house had been summoned. Everyone but Lennox.

I kept stealing glances at his empty chair while a cold knot in my stomach twisted. There was no way he was still sleeping, right?

I hadn’t gotten to peek out the window at the silver carriage with the blue trim, but one had to imagine it was someone from the palace. I’d never heard of a nobleman or member of the clergy making such a fuss to travel to a middle-of-nowhere brothel with armed soldiers, but perhaps there was a human shortage at the palace.

The Palace Ser Novithia was mysterious; the royal family even more so. You didn’t hear much about them, as they only showed their faces once every couple of decades to throw a parade in celebration of the birth of a vultus child. Rumor had it that their blood had been sanctioned by the gods, rendering them with fantastical powers that an everyday vultus could only dream of.

“I know we are a small brothel,” Jaxlyn was saying to the soldiers, “but we are more than capable of fulfilling any requests our guest of honor might have, and our humans are all so talented. They’re well trained in girth, length, and stamina. They were born to serve.”

Born a whore. What a concept.

“Is this every human available this evening?” one of the soldiers asked. Likely the one in charge, judging by how decorated his frock was, studded in little silver medals tied by colorful ribbons. “Our guest will need every option available at his disposal.”

I glanced at Lennox’s empty chair, the knot in my stomach growing.

“Yes,” Jaxlyn said, nudging Sindell from where she’d dozed off on her lounge.

She fluttered her green painted eyelids open and smiled weakly up at them.

“And I can make recommendations depending on our guest’s personal desires,” Jaxlyn continued, gesturing to Sindell. “This one, for example, is quite flexible.”