Page 142 of On Wings of Blood

The further we went, the more the city seemed to decay. The buildings were older here, their stone facades crumbling or their wooden slats covered with peeling paint. Figures slumped in shadowy doorways, eyes following me with suspicion or indifference.

The fluffin trotted on without hesitation, a tiny spark of color in an otherwise dark place.

My senses prickled with unease. I could have picked up the fluffin and gone back the way we’d come, returning to Bloodwing.

Or could I? I wasn’t completely sure I could find the way.

Finally, the fluffin stopped, sitting on his haunches across from a building that stood out amongst the others.

The windows were aglow with dancing red candles. A wooden sign hung above the door, its red paint faded but still legible: The Drained Rose. There was a picture of a flower, a rose presumably, painted below the words.

The red candles, the name...

Outside, several blightborn were lounging casually, cups and goblets held loosely in their hands. Most were leaning against highbloods–each one beautiful and seeming utterly indifferent to their tawdry surroundings. One of the blightborn, a young man of my age, was laughing drunkenly, his hand caressing the arm of a highblood woman who was whispering something in his ear.

Another blightborn girl, perhaps twenty or so, stood silently near the door, her gaze vacant as a highblood man trailed his fingers down her neck, looking at her hungrily.

I felt a wave of revulsion. This was a blood brothel.

I stared at the blightborn with morbid curiosity. Was this really a choice? Or was it desperation like with the children I'd seen?

The fluffin had sat down patiently by my feet. Now he jumped up and made a yapping sound.

“Hush,” I whispered. But my eyes followed the direction the fluffin was looking.

Blake Drakharrow was coming along the street towards the brothel from the opposite way. And he wasn’t alone. Professor Rodriguez was walking beside him.

The two men were deep in conversation. They seemed to be arguing. I slunk back into the shadow of the building so they wouldn’t see me.

I couldn’t hear them from this distance, but the tension in Rodriguez’s face was unmistakable. He gestured sharply at Blake, his voice low but intense.

My mind whirled. What could they possibly be arguing about? Rodriguez was obviously tutoring Blake in thrallguard. He’d trusted him enough to have the older student fill in for him as my tutor.

But this wasn't the place for a thrallguard lesson. Why were they really here?

I inched forward slightly and was considering stepping out and confronting them when Rodriguez suddenly peeled away and stormed off down the street.

Blake remained where he was. He watched Rodriguez leave but didn’t seem perturbed.

After a moment, he rolled his shoulders, adjusted the cuffs of his black jacket, and headed for the entrance of The Drained Rose.

I looked down at the fluffin. My mind screamed at me to turn back but something stronger was pulling me forward.

I’d come all this way. I wasn’t about to turn back now.

“Wait for me here,” I whispered to the fluffin. “Can you do that?”

The fluffin looked up at me from his large owl-like eyes and gave a soft yip.

“Is that a yes? I won't be able to find my way back without you, you know,” I whispered.

Do you expect the animal to actually answer you?my mother asked incredulously.

I ignored her. Pulse drumming in my ears, I headed for the door of The Drained Rose.

CHAPTER 31 - MEDRA

The heavy oak door creaked as I entered. Immediately I was struck by the garishness of the brothel. The place was decorated in shades of crimson and gold, with thick velvet drapes and brocade-covered chairs lining the walls. Ornate brass chandeliers hung from the ceilings. There was a sense of opulence without a sense of elegance.

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