The Blood Burns in My Veins by Megan Derr

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

"Ah, lips that say one thing, while the heart thinks another."

― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

 

 

"How much trouble are you causing at this party tonight?" Forthwind asked. "Should I make the visit to your old friend quick and be ready to help you fight your way out?"

Dante laughed as he finished putting the finishing touches on his ensemble, a laborious affair which had taken nearly an hour and required Forthwind's assistance. He'd always thought the clothes on the continent could get to be a bit much, but Verona left the rest of the empire on the shore. "Nothing so flash, Forthwind. Tonight I am going to a party, that is all."

"I do not believe you."

"I'm a schemer and weaver. Words are vastly more effective than swords in most cases."

Forthwind pressed his hands to his chest. "A stregone di ferro eschewing swords for chatter? Never!"

"At least I am not a stregone del vento who may as well not be a stregone at all."

Forthwind shrugged one shoulder. "I used my magia quite a bit on the farm. You'd be surprised how useful it is for harvesting apples and such. But I never properly learned to use it combatively, not the way you did. I picked all that up later, through trial and error. Mostly error. As you say, words go further than weapons."

Dante smiled that venomous, sharp-edged smile of his. "No, I said words make a better weapon."

"Whatever," Forthwind replied with a sigh, and finished securing his own sash. Rather than the proper obi style used for kimono and such, it was smaller, lighter, somewhere between belt and obi, much easier to put on and take off by oneself. "Should I meet you back here then, sometime tomorrow?"

"How much whoring are you planning on doing?" Dante asked with a laugh. "Meet me here around breakfast time. There's much to do and little time to do it all now that I am laying out more and more of the pieces."

Forthwind tucked a purse of coins deep into his sash, where a pickpocket would not be able to reach it without going to trouble that he would definitely notice. "I'll be here. Happy hunting, Esposito-don."

"Ciao. Enjoy the whorehouse."

"I always do," Forthwind said, and shrugged into a haori-style jacket made of a handsome dark green that went with the lighter green and yellow butterflies of his yukata. He stepped into raised sandals, grabbed his umbrella, and lifted a hand in farewell as he headed off into the night.

The air was pleasantly chilly, and it felt like there would be a storm on the morrow. He could always smell a storm, though it was different here than it had been on the farm and in the mainland cities.

He hummed softly as he went, enjoying the dusk, the lamps and paper lanterns that gave the world a soft, dreamy glow. Though he'd not been here long, it was easy to see why the people of Verona loved their city so fiercely. The constant rush of the sea along the shores, the fresh, salty sea air, the beautiful buildings of stone and wood that had stood for centuries, safe from the storms that wiped out so many other islands over and over again. The colors, the food, the beautiful clothes, the bridges and the views they offered…

So many lovely temptations.

Speaking of temptations, he was most curious about what he'd find on his latest task for Dante: visit Blue House and seek out the fallen Brom. How intimately he chose to investigate, Dante had left for him to decide, so long as he accomplished the goal set for him.

Blue House was located at the fringes of Isola delle ossa. It could be reached directly by boat or approached on foot, but the narrow street that led to it could not handle horses or carts.

Forthwind opted to go by boat, settling into the sprawling settee-style seat and enjoying the singing of the dual sailors as they guided the boat along the coast and up to the colorfully lit dock. The building itself was deceptively mild in appearance, painted a soft blue that flirted strongly with the holy blues reserved for the upper class and sacred offices. Even the name was a taunt, hinting to the unwary that it was a holy place of some sort.

The bells and prayers dangling from the overhang above the doors belied its true purpose, as the bells were shaped like breasts and testicles, and the prayers were lewd poems and 'prayers' for hard cocks, slick cunts, large breasts, and so on.

An attendant at the doors slid them open for him, and Forthwind slipped inside. A servant stepped forward from the shadows to assist him, and Forthwind allowed her to take his jacket and umbrella.

"Ciao, Tani-don," the servant said. "Welcome to Blue House. If you'll come this way, we will help you relax this evening."

"Dōmo." Forthwind followed her into a lavish front room, filled with more of the colorful paper lanterns, though they didn't glow as brightly here. There were ornate sofas, deep, plush chairs, and cozy benches. Most were filled with customers, whores, or a combination of the two. It was easy to mark out those that had been, or would shortly be, hired for the next hour or so.

Leaving him to skim over the available wares, seeking out the man who would look like a grown version of the sketch Dante had drawn earlier, the servant slipped quietly away. Forthwind had studied the drawing meticulously, making mental notes on likely changes, but even with the additional information provided by the server Dante had seduced, it was going to be trick…

Ho, there. Maybe not. Forthwind waved off a woman who started to approach him and focused solely on the beautiful man tucked into the farthest corner of the room. He was bathed in soft pink light that added reddish tones to his dark hair, which fell in long waves over his shoulders and down his chest, the front portions braided and pulled back to keep it out of his face. Like most of the other whores, he wore only a tiny pair of shorts and a cheap cotton jinbei that he'd likely embroidered himself with the little flowers that covered it, all of them associated with prowess, passion, and love.

His face was all sharp edges—too sharp, like he didn't eat enough—and there was a fine scar that ran diagonally across his right cheek, as though something had come slashing down and cut it. His lips were full and faintly pouty, utterly perfect for kissing and biting. He was some strange combination of winsome youth and experienced man.

Forthwind hadn't actually planned on fucking Brom when he found him, but he might have to revise that plan.

Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned, poised to dismiss whatever whore was approaching him now—but drew up short as he registered this woman was dressed in a silk kimono at least as fine as anything worn by the nobili.

"You're a new face," the woman said, fanning herself leisurely with a fixed fan painted with the image of two women having a grand time beneath a full moon. "What brings you all the way to the Blue House?" She looked him leisurely up and down, taking in every ounce of wealth that was in his clothes. "We're happy to have you, Tani-don, but your sort usually seeks their pleasures elsewhere."

"I find it's more fun to explore thoroughly." Forthwind deftly pulled a coin from where he'd kept it tucked in his sleeve, making it seem as though he'd pulled it from thin air. He twirled it casually between his fingers and over his knuckles. "The man in the corner with the scar on his face. Tell me more."

"That is Brom, an experienced pleasure, amenable and quiet. You seem more inclined toward excitement, though…"

"Faria," he replied. "Recently moved here with my good friend the Conte di Esposito."

Her eyes sharpened, flicking to the coin he continued to toy with and then back up to his face, a new level of interest in hers. "I have heard of him around town. He did not care to come with you tonight?"

Shrugging one shoulder, glancing idly around the room, eyes flitting helplessly back to Brom for a moment before returning finally to the belladonna, Forthwind replied, "He was invited to some betrothal party and so could not join me. I'm sure he'll be delighted to come another night. Now then, delightful though your company is, belladonna, I would prefer to enjoy the time and attention of the intriguing Brom."

He flipped her the coin, and she deftly caught it. "For that price, Faria-don, he is yours until sunrise."

"Dōmo." Forthwind sketched her a playful bow, turned smoothly on his heel, and headed off across the room. "Ciao, bello."

"Ciao, Tani-don." Brom tilted his head in a practiced way, baring his throat, where a small round opal rested in the hollow and tempted closer inspection. In the soft pink light his eyes looked somewhere between gold and silver. "Looking for a way to spend an evening?"

"Indeed, and I have chosen you. The belladonna has granted me the pleasure of your company through to sunrise."

Brom's eyes widened the slightest bit before he caught himself and regained his smooth, unaffected demeanor. "Dōmo, and my pleasure to serve, Tani-don." He rose smoothly, sending his hair over his shoulders with an easy, rote movement of his head. "Did you want to adjourn upstairs? Enjoy the ocean?"

"How about you join me on the boat I've rented for the night, if that's permissible."

"I am at your disposal, Tani-don."

"Forthwind, please. I'm no nobile, merely a fool who stumbled into a lot of money he did not earn."

Brom laughed. "Signore, I believe you just described nobile." He froze, flinched. "My pardon."

"For what? Speaking the truth?" Forthwind held out his hand, and when Brom took it, lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. He lingered despite himself, enjoying the faint scent of roses that clung to Brom's skin, the way it seemed to sparkle softly in the light, as though he'd been powdered in pearl dust. "Never fear, bello." He winked and released Brom's hand. "I enjoy a bit of impertinence."

"Shall we head out to that boat, then?" Brom asked, relief flashing in his eyes, though it was quickly buried under his professional mien.

Forthwind offered his arm, surprised at the delight that ran through him when Brom took it and pressed close, warm and rose-scented and more captivating than Forthwind would have ever anticipated.

He shook himself, dragged his mind back to the plan he was meant to be executing. So far, it was proving to be delightfully easy. Once on the boat, he directed the crew to take them along the coast until he said otherwise. Settling back in the seat that really was almost more a bed, he drew Brom in, delighted when he sprawled so he was half-draped over Forthwind, a warm, almost hot, contrast to the cool air washing over them.

Brom nuzzled his cheek. "What pleasures do you seek, Forthwind-don?"

Forthwind trailed his fingers lazily over Brom's body, delighting in the delicate shivers that ran through him. He'd meant only to get Brom to where he would see the notice that Dante had put up, then send him on his way with some excuse or another. Right then, with Brom warm and pliant in his arms, the stars and moon shining down on them, it was hard to remember he'd told himself to behave. "Let me see if those pretty lips of yours taste as fine as they look."

The way Brom suddenly tensed said the words had taken him by surprise, but he only shifted to lever himself up so he could lean down and kiss Forthwind as requested.

He tasted sweet, like he'd had something fruity recently, bright and crisp like an apple or pear. His mouth moved with Forthwind's with the ease and skill of years, tongue licking and lapping playfully before pushing between his lips to taste in earnest.

Forthwind had never had a kiss like it. There was no way to describe it but as enchanting. Brom kissed like a dream, like a storybook ending. He wanted a thousand more just like it, and then another thousand after that.

Reluctantly drawing back for a chance to catch his breath, Forthwind said, "If you fuck even a tenth as well as you kiss, tesoro mio, your belladonna is vastly undercharging for your charms."

That got him a lovely laugh. "Flattery is unnecessary, signore. You've already paid for the night."

"No flattery. Your kisses are divine, and I badly want another."

"You can have all you like until sunrise," Brom said with another laugh, and did as bid.

Forthwind got so caught up in them, he nearly forgot what he was really about until the ringing of the hourly bells made him start. His breaths misted in the air as he pulled away and bid the sailors take them to shore.

"Why are we getting off here?"

"I want to walk and have a bit of privacy, and I always am a bit odd in how I go about things."

Brom looked hesitant, but then simply resigned.

Forthwind paused as they stepped onto the dock and put space between them. "I apologize. I failed to recall that in your line of work, people often think they are at liberty to beat and otherwise harm you. That is not my intent, though obviously you've no cause to believe me. I simply am not terribly familiar with Verona, so don't know many places to… frolic, I suppose, and this was the only area I felt comfortable doing so, short of places that would draw too much attention."

"That makes sense," Brom replied, shoulders easing. He closed the space between them and looped his arm through Forthwind's. He was about a finger's width or so taller, but still gave that strange impression of daintiness, perhaps because he was so much thinner than he should be.

Was this truly the same boy who'd once betrayed Dante? He seemed too sweet and sad for that. On the other hand, he'd lost everything and been forced to turn to whoring. That would drastically change anyone.

"Come," Forthwind said. "Let's go for a walk."

"As you wish."

They hadn't gone more than a couple of steps when Brom shivered against him. "You're cold."

"I'm fine. I promise it can get much colder than this, and I've been out in such weather wearing far less."

Forthwind held back scathing comments on the types of callous fools who would permit such a thing, mostly because he'd nearly been one himself, since he was used to far colder climbs and so found the relatively mild chill pleasant.

He turned back to the boat and motioned for the sailors to open the chest set behind the seat. "Give me the bundle on top, dōmo."

One of them neatly threw the bundle, and Forthwind shook it out to reveal a fur wrap he'd brought along in case the weather grew colder than expected. It was soft, wickedly so, a wrap he'd made years ago from scores of rabbit pelts he'd meticulously hoarded over months and took with him wherever he went, one of his few treasures of home that he'd refused to sell.

He draped it over Brom's shoulders and secured it with the pin he always kept with it. "Better?"

"Much better, yes. This is beautiful."

"I made it myself, so dōmo." He offered his arm again, and they headed off, wooden sandals clacking on the stone streets. "I visited a delightful noodle shop somewhere around here the other day. Do you perhaps know it?"

Brom bobbed his head. "I used to eat there all the time as a boy. From what I hear, it's just as good now as it was then, if not better."

"You don't eat there anymore? It's all on the same island, surely you have time to go, at least once in a while." Forthwind paused at a stall that was selling lanterns strung from poles for people to carry around as they walked. The streets were nowhere near as crowded as they were by day, but they were not deserted either.

Another stall sold fragrant roasted chicken dripping a salty-sweet sauce that Forthwind didn't know but liked the smell of. Still another sold bread stuffed with various fillings: red bean, almond-green tea, and chocolate-hazelnut. Forthwind bought three of each. At the next stall he purchased a sack of roasted nuts. After that he was forced to halt the food-purchasing, as they struggled to carry what little they had.

He dug into one of the chocolate-hazelnut buns, not quite moaning at the taste. "Eat, eat, before it all gets cold. I have it on good authority that none of it is quite as tasty when it's gone cold."

For a moment it looked as though Brom was going to refuse, but then he seemed to change his mind and dug eagerly into all the food that Forthwind thrust at him. He cast Forthwind a side-glance. "This is not how people usually spend their well-paid time with me."

"I am told I am eccentric. I wanted pleasurable company, but pleasure takes many forms, bello."

Brom smiled briefly, a bittersweet thing that Forthwind ached to kiss away, banish forever. What about this man tugged at him so? Perhaps he'd spent too much time alone, with only Dante's tempestuous ways to liven the monotony.

Thoughts of Dante reminded him there was work to be done. Thankfully, the moment was upon them.

"Oh, I know where we are," he said with a laugh. "For a moment I thought I'd gotten us lost, but here is that old stable, which means the noodle shop I admired is nearby, which in turn means my ultimate destination is near to hand."

He expected another wary look from Brom, or a tease about getting lost when they'd remained on a single street the whole time, but Brom's attention was taken completely by the stable. Rather, the notice on the stable that became more than readable in the light of Forthwind's lantern. "Did… did someone buy this old place?" he asked, and only the fact Forthwind was paying him utmost attention let him catch the faint quaver to Brom's voice.

"Yes, the friend I came here with. He seems convinced he can make something of it, no matter what the bankers and everyone else tell him." He peered at Brom, smiling teasingly. "Looking to ride horses instead of people? Probably a wise change, though it would be Verona's loss to be sure."

That seemed to jerk Brom back to where he was, away from wherever he'd gone in his head. "My apologies, I did not mean to get so distracted." He smiled flirtatiously. "What is this ultimate destination of yours? I assume you've been feeding me all this food to ensure I am well able to keep up with your plans. Shall we be off?"

"As you wish," Forthwind replied agreeably, tucking away Brom's reaction to report to Dante, who would be most pleased to hear that his snare was working, and there would soon be a rabbit to do with as he pleased.

Shoving away the roiling guilt that tried to rise up, for he'd made a promise and would keep it, Forthwind led Brom down a small road to the room he'd rented for the night at a small but elegant inn that was happy to ask no questions for the right amount of coin—though, really, that seemed to be how all of Verona operated, even more so than some of the more notorious cities on the mainland.

When they reached the inn, after they'd removed their shoes, the servant attending the entryway greeted him, clearly recalling him from when he'd come to rent the room and escorting them to it. Forthwind arranged for a tea tray, then shrugged out of his haori and draped it over a stand meant for such things. He wiggled his bare toes on the cool floor.

"I admit this is nicer than my room back at Blue House," Brom said, shrugging off the wrap and setting it next to his haori. His beautiful hair fell over one shoulder, an ink-dark fall that Forthwind wanted to run his fingers through. Was it brown or black? He'd not yet been able to tell.

Brom's mouth quirked. "I know that look. I was starting to think you were one of those who doesn't care for sex. Not that I would have minded. Plenty such persons come to us simply for company, the intimacy of having someone close."

Forthwind lifted one shoulder. "The mood doesn't strike me often, but I definitely enjoy sex."

Brom lifted a hand to the knot that held his sash closed, situated at the front of his clothes and slightly to the right, rather than centered at the back, a common practice for those who had to frequently change, or at least remove, their clothes—whores, performers, janitorial workers, and the like.

A knock at the door stayed his hand, and before Forthwind could move, he was heading to fetch the tea. After setting it on the table, he turned back to Forthwind and deftly undid the knot of his jinbei. "So did you want tea first?"

Forthwind honestly couldn't remember anymore why he'd ordered the tea in the first place. Right then, all he could think about was tasting every scrap of that beautiful skin, getting his mouth on the promising cock tucked into those skimpy shorts. "I want you to come here."

An easy roll of his shoulders cast Brom's jinbei to the floor, and then he was right up against Forthwind, warm and pliant and eager as he dipped his head to bestow another of those magnificent kisses.

Forthwind wrapped his arms around Brom's neck and held him close, determined to memorize his delectable mouth, to glut himself on the magia-soaked kisses. Deft hands made swift work of his sash, and then soft, warm fingers were pushing his yukata and underclothes away, baring his skin to the cool air.

Drawing back, lapping at his lips briefly, Brom said, "Shall we move this to the bed?"

Managing a nod, Forthwind withdrew enough to get rid of his clothes once and for all, leaving them on the floor, uncaring of the wrinkles they'd acquire.

Brom drew Forthwind down and rolled so he was pressed into the bedding, then dipped his head to work his mouth along Forthwind's throat, his collar bone, leaving a trail of damp skin that swiftly chilled and left him shivering delightedly.

If he was bothered by the scars on Forthwind's chest, the remains of a surgery that had removed his breasts, he gave no sign of it, simply kept working his perfect mouth over every scrap of skin he could easily reach.

Forthwind had been with whores any number of times, always content with the arrangement. He'd always prided himself on not being one more fool to be tricked into falling for a talented whore. Right then he was sadly very much that fool, wishing Brom was his actual lover, that this stood the chance of building into something real. He was sweet, charming, intriguing… and so addictively skilled with that mouth of his.

As Brom's mouth worked steadily lower, Forthwind moaned and struggled not to writhe, not to work his hips, reach down and attend matters himself just to get more, to get what he desperately needed.

Brom lifted his head, lips swollen and shiny. "You want my mouth or my cock?"

Forthwind groaned. "What kind of choice is that? How can I choose?" That elicited a chuckle, Brom's beautiful eyes warm with amusement and lust. In the soft light of the bedroom lamps, his eyes were a pale cinnamon brown, rimmed with gold right around the pupils. "Your cock. But I want your mouth later."

"As you wish," Brom said, and leveraged himself up.

Forthwind finally got a good look at what the shorts had hinted at, moaning again, reaching out to do some touching and stroking of his own, dipping down to fondle the heavy sac. Brom shuddered at his touch, so hard Forthwind could see his muscles bunch and ripple. "You're beautiful."

Brom smiled faintly, something sad in it, and took himself in hand, slicking his cock thoroughly with something he must have brought with him. "You're one to talk." He cut Forthwind's reply off with a hungry kiss that left Forthwind aching, trembling with the need for more. Thankfully, Brom spread his legs wide and pushed gently into Forthwind's slick heat, making them both groan so loudly that Forthwind hoped their neighbors were soundly asleep.

He held Brom close, fingers digging into his back, as Brom fucked him with all the same skill and acumen he'd displayed in his kisses. Brom's thrusts were hard, deep, angled just the right way to reduce Forthwind to desperate, breathy pleas and shuddering moans, fingers digging tightly into muscle as he rolled his hips to meet every thrust, take Brom as deep as he could, legs gripping him tight.

A few minutes later, he came apart with a scream that was only just barely muffled by Brom's mouth. He lay there, clinging and panting, as Brom fucked into him a few more times before he started to pull out—but Forthwind just held him close, whispered for him to stay right where he was, and held on tight as Brom's climax took him.

Eventually, Brom rolled off and climbed out of bed, rising smoothly and vanishing briefly from sight. He returned with a rag he used to meticulously clean them both, and once he'd gotten rid of it, hovered uncertainly at the side of the bed, kneeling with his head slightly bowed. "Shall I bring you tea, now?"

"I'm fine," Forthwind said, rising up on his elbows. "Help yourself, though, if you're inclined. And come back to bed, unless you don't want to. It's far too cold not to." When Brom still hesitated, Forthwind softly said, "Please? I enjoy your company, enjoy having you right here with me, but I'll not make you uncomfortable. If you'd rather be on your way, you've more than earned your coin. The pleasure of your company did that."

Brom seemed to relax slightly and gave him a wry look. "You are the strangest client I've ever had." He climbed back into bed and cuddled into Forthwind's side, which was all Forthwind had wanted.

A near-stranger shouldn't feel so right in his arms, but there was no denying that was exactly how Brom felt.

And Forthwind had just set him up to be utterly destroyed by Dante's revenge.