Page 19 of Traveling with Gentlemen
"This is her home?" I asked as we walked up the long steps together. It'd been months now, but I was still wrapping my mind around being the guest or even the resident of such enormous palaces. I couldn't even imagine being thestaffof such a place.
"Not hers," Auguste whispered. "Not really. She puts wealthy men in trances, bleeds them and their wealth dry, and then moves on."
"She's only been in Jerusalem for a decade or so. She'll leave again in another," Amon said.
"She sounds like a parasite," Mr. Tanner said, his low words as soft and craggy as the stone that built the city. We were on the outskirts, the neighborhood outside of this estate quiet in the late hour.
"The wealthy and powerful usually are," Ezra muttered, pausing before adding, "No offense to you lot."
I snorted and Amon's lips pursed but he didn't argue, simply squeezing my hand where it rested in his elbow. We were nearly to the top of the stairs and the building in front of us was quiet as a grave, the lit torches and glowing windows the only sign of life. I was about to ask if we were meant to be the only guests at the party, when the heavy front doors swung open.
Music, laughter, chaos, and magic poured out of those doors in a flurry of sound and sudden activity, and I nearly fell back a step, if not for Mr. Tanner's heavy hand at my back. Because of course nothing in the world of monsters was as it appeared, and this palace was not still and quiet; it was enchanted for privacy. As a beautiful, naked woman raced past the open door inside, chased by a transformed werewolf, I understood the need.
"Ah. So it'sthatkind of party," Ezra chuckled.
"Sofia's usually are," Auguste whispered. He and Amon framed me, the others guarding our backs.
"It doesn't matter how much danger we warned you of, you still look excited," Amon said, and I tore my eyes from the open doors and the swirling activity of bodies—dressed, undressed, and everything in between—inside.
"I can't help it," I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly.
"Have you been bored at home?" he asked, brows arching.
I bumped his hip with mine softly and his lips twitched. "Only when you are away," I said coyly.
Amon chuckled, and I considered the evening already won because his shoulders were relaxing as he stepped to the door, greeted by two pale guards, identical and imposing.
"Sphinx," they said in unison, offering a bow before stepping aside.
Amon's chin was high, his eyes narrowed at the pair as he watched their deference. I'd once considered him too haughty, and had since learned all his softness and generosity, the openness he shared when he was comfortable in our family. This dignity washisarmor, and it was beautiful.
As we stepped inside together, into the incredibly lush, decadent, erotic house, I forgot that I was here with my gentlemen to do battle. I forgot that Auguste feared the woman we were here to see and Amon disliked her, and for a moment Iadoredher. It was like being back at Rooksgrave before the fire, in the evenings when everyone gathered and celebrated together, except here it was immediately apparent that the women—monstrous and beautiful in equal measure—were as active and aggressive and powerful as the men.
In the enormous entrance room to my right, a group of feathered beauties giggled together on a low, round couch, watching oiled and deliciously formed men with wings wrestle on a mat before them. A regal being of indeterminate gender with golden horns and black eyes played a wayward tune on something like a violin, body bared in only jewels, one hoofed leg propped up on a stool as a supplicant feasted between their legs. In front of us, through archways that opened on a broad, tiled garden, a massive minotaur was chained to a platform as a delicate young woman rode his cock like she was in a race. And then I realized there was another platform just beyond and shewasin a race. I rose up on my toes, wondering whose finish was the goal.
"Amon! Darling, youdidcome!"
I stiffened at the cooing, thickly accented, richly feminine voice.
In my excitement at the diversions of the party, I'd forgotten my goal. I'd forgotten that I wanted to be the ravishing and ravished beauty who'd captured the heart of the men around me, and I knew immediately that I looked more like the shocked and curioushumanwoman who'd delightfully landed herself in the land of monsters. Both were true, but I hadn't meant to let my guard down in front ofher.
I lowered to my heels and Auguste's hand was tense and tight around mine as we turned to the dark hall on the left, from which Sofia de Vologda had emerged.
She was like a lantern in the shadows, golden and bright and beautiful, blue eyes sparkling like gems against her snow-pale skin, blonde hair gleaming and flowing over her shoulders. My pretty and scandalous red gown looked like a nun's habit compared to her sheer slip of a dress. Every inch of her was exposed, nipples high and parting the curtain of her hair to peek through gossamer-thin pink silk, the shadowed valley between her thighs a dark warning and invitation all at once.
I felt silly and young and human in front of her, and realized suddenly that I'd never stood a chance of intimidating this woman, and that Auguste's worried words as we'd left the train had been the mindset of a besotted lover.
But that is what you do have, I reminded myself.Their love.
"You have changed," Sofia purred up at my sphinx. She was tiny, but no less a powerful presence than Amon or even Mr. Tanner, who her eyes scanned over with intrigued delight, the same speculative excitement Jonathon sported at a new idea to experiment with. Mr. Tanner would hate it. He was a man, not a specimen.Myman.
Sofia barely glanced at Booker or Auguste, her eyes skimming over them as if they were as invisible as Ezra, and as she finally deigned to set her gaze to me, I settled on a new role.
"So this is she," Sofia whispered, taking me in.
I pulled my hand from Auguste's—no small feat—and extended it to the countess.
"Esther Reed," I greeted.
