Page 8 of The House of Whispers

The Ripper was coming.

“You have been absent quite some time, Casper.” Her voice was both beautiful and terrifying and set my skin on edge as she poked at the burning fire with a dark iron rod.

“Forgive me, Madame Chepi, I haven’t been myself these past few days… but I assure you, I am better now. I understand if you choose to dock my wages. I’ll happily work all hours to make up for the difference.” She remained silent, staring into the dancing flames, her pin straight onyx hair dripping down her back. She was the embodiment of nightshade—luring you in with her sweet appearance only to consume you with death. There were few people I truly feared in this world, but Madame Chepi was one of them.

She rose from her crouched position, her thin shawl draping her clay and indigo inked arms. Numerous intricate designs and patterns covered her toffee colored skin, peeking from beneath the thin layers of her dress as she moved toward me. She adjusted the dark scarf she always wore across her neck, and my back straightened as her deep chestnut irises met mine while I carefully observed her movements.

“You have been a valued member of my house longer than any Whisp, Casper,” she stopped her statement, wiping loose soot from her hands. Her clay-tatted chin and black-dotted cheeks only sharpened her features, adding to her alarming beauty. She was out of place here in Bedeville—foreign compared to the residents. Otherworldly. “For that, I will forgive you. But,” her pointer finger raised as her eyes glared, “just this once. You may not be a Whisp, but you set the example. I cannot have you breaking my rules. Imagine what would happen if the Whisps no longer obeyed me? There would be no structure to rein in the chaos. Things would no longer function properly and this house would crumble from the weak foundation. Who would protect you then?” She stopped for a moment as her demeanor hardened. “Tend to your duties. Do your job,” her voice was low and threatening, “or you and your sister willbothsuffer the consequences of your poor choices.” I swallowed hard, knowing what she meant.

“Yes, Madame. It will not happen again.”

A young Scaley woman entered Madame’s antique, turquoise room, brushing past me as she stepped to the side of me. Her golden eyes and scales glistened against her dark ebony skin.

“Ah, perfect timing, child.” Madame Chepi switched her persona as she welcomed the strange woman.

What is this woman doing here?

“Casper,” she motioned to me, “see that our newest recruit is comfortable now, will you?” She winked, causing my stomach to churn, realizing what was about to occur.

I nodded, reluctantly complying as I showed the young Scaley woman to the spice-colored, velvet-tufted couch. The Scaley woman sat, adjusting her long flowy skirts, smiling. Such a poor, ignorant fool. Soon, her smile would disappear.

“Casper,” Madame Chepi pulled the rod from the flames examining the red hot tip, “remind me of your gratitude.” She looked over her shoulder at me, grinning. My jaw clenched as I nodded. I snapped my fingers, dark magik igniting within my palms. The smile on the young woman’s face faded as my burning violet eyes met hers. My hands rose as my wrists twisted and fingers curled, dark magik slithering from me, pinning the woman firmly to the couch.

“Good. Now hold her tight. We both know they love to move during this next part.” Madame Chepi examined the end of the rod burning red hot, fastened with the symbol of our home. The brand all must bear in The House of Whispers.

Her eyes fell to the frightened woman. “The price paid for my protection.” She tore the woman’s dress, completely exposing her scaled chest as the Scaley tried to wriggle free. My magik pulsed, tightening its grip on her body as Madame Chepi pushed the smoldering brand into her skin, her face plastered with an evil grin. The woman’s skin hissed upon the brand’s impact. She screamed in horror as her once-golden scales burned as the iron melted them away. The smell of her charred flesh made my stomach sick, and I closed my eyes, my magik holding firm. My chest ached at the painful recollection of the day I received my own brand. I had been only a child.

“There.” Madame Chepi ripped the iron rod back with a grunt.

Melted scales and flesh hung from the woman’s chest, parts of her melted onto the iron. The woman dropped back as my magik released her. She had passed out from the excruciating pain, as they often did. Her heart had been branded with the price we all pay—a circle with mirroring loops filling the inside. The horrific symbol of the House of Whispers. We wore this brand to show our loyalty to Madame Chepi, thanking her for the protection she granted us, which gave us the freedom to earn our place in her house. But with these brands, came a price. It wasn’t just the price of the pain of receiving the brands that we paid. If a member of the house broke their word, betrayed the house or Madame Chepi herself, then our brands would be cut clean from our flesh. If one was lucky, they would simply be cast into the streets after losing her protection, doomed to struggle to survive as the wound rotted, slowly claiming their life. Not many people experienced such luck.

Madame Chepi returned the branding iron to the fire, her eyes watching the flames as she spoke to me. “I need you to be extra diligent for the next few days, Casper.” She wiped her tattooed hands. “I hear your sister’s beau has police stationed outside, monitoring the house. I don’t appreciate decisions being made without my consent, seeing as it ismyhouse. But having the inhabitants of the house feeling safe isn’t as important as keeping our customers happy. We can’t afford any missteps now, can we?” Her eyes shot to me. I understood what she was saying.

“I will only do what’s necessary as you deem it so, Madame Chepi.” My job in the brothel was protecting the Whisps and disposing of anyone Madame saw as unfit or unruly. I used my magik to maintain order as the exchanges carried on. Upon Madame Chepi’s command, I would use my dark magik to resolve any disputes, silencing unorderly Johns. She had discovered my Hexer abilities years ago, immediately deciding to use them to her advantage—despite my dark magik being illegal. Madame Chepi held me on a leash, keeping me safe from the town that wanted to burn me, while using me to her benefit.

“Good. Now, get some sleep.” I turned to leave the room, stopping before approaching the door.

“Madame, is there any way you would consider hiring extra security?” I turned, facing Madame Chepi.

“Extra security?” She seemed offended. “Right now, there’s a detective sleeping in one of my beds.” She slowly stepped toward me. “A policeman is currently sitting outside watching everything that is happening in this house, and standing before me is a woman who possesses dark magik. What makes you think weneedextra security?”

I swallowed hard, my brows furrowing as I replied, “The Ripper.”

Her face morphed, anger tainting her words. “Listen here,Hexer,” she stepped closer, “you do not speak of that devil in this house. I protect my tribe. That monster wouldn’t dare touch one of my Whisps, and if he did, he wouldn’t live to see the next morning. Do you hear me?” Despite her threatening appearance, she was clueless. That ‘devil’ had been in the house, in my room, just moments before, roaming freely.

My head raised slightly. “I only wish to protect the Whisps. What if—”

“Enough!” Her words stung as hard as the impact from her hand as it slapped across my cheek, leaving it red and burning from her strength.

My face tightened with anger as I remained quiet, pretending to feel no pain as I clenched my jaw. Madame Chepi sighed, tucking her long pitch black hair behind her ears. Her dark olive skin tone clashed against her pastel clothing that draped freely along her curvy frame as she leaned in toward me. “Do you enjoy bringing me displeasure?”

“No, Madame—”

“No, of course not. So, don’t fret your pretty little self about the Whisps. Everyone is safe inside this house as long as I am here. Now,youdo your job and use those Hexer abilities to keep us safe.” She fiercely patted my face, purposely touching the reddened handprint she had left behind.

“And tell your sister, if her beau is to continue spending his nights in her company, I’m going to have to start charging him. Detective or not, this is a brothel.Everythinghas a price.”

I nodded as she dismissed me from the room and left silently. I needed to do something to protect the Whisps—anything. First thing in the morning I would find and speak with Nathair.

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