Page 10 of By the Horns
“Good as new,” I reassure him with a lazy grin, putting on an air of casualness I don’t feel. I rub the bare patch on my skull that covers my head from horns to just below my eyes. “The healers say the fur here will grow back, too. Good thing, as I’d hate to disappoint the ladies without even a sexy scar to show for my troubles.”
“A sexy scar?” Rooster echoes, his expression sour.
“Sure.” I sprawl my legs out in front of me, making sure to take up as much space as possible. I slouch on the delicate wooden chair, meant for human builds and not Taurian ones, and cross my arms over my chest. “Hard to impress pretty girls when half your head looks like a roasted chicken.”
Hawk says nothing.
Rooster’s expression grows sourer, his small hands clasped on the desk in front of him as if he’s some sort of penitent monk. Even for a human, Rooster’s a small, squat type. The desk dwarfs him, and I mentally picture him sitting on a cushion to make himself appear taller. It feels like something he’d do. If he doesn’t get up during this meeting, I’m probably right.
The guild master politely scratches the side of his nose, and it makes the healing patches on my face itch in response. “You mention females. I’ve heard that you headed for the brothels the moment you left the hospital. Is there…a problem?”
“No problem. I just like the ladies,” I say, voice flat. My tail twitches. Neither knows that I’ve got the god’s hand upon me. That I’m forced to rely upon illegal magic potions that keep my knot from making me crazed at all times and I was out of my potion recently. That I needed a woman while at the hospital. I don’t want to tell anyone that I’ve been obsessively hunting for Sarya since the moment the bandages were removed. No one needs to know I’m infatuated with a sex worker who likely thinks of me as little more than another job.
Because I am.
Infatuated.
I can’t stop thinking of Sarya. I’m not sure why. I’ve hired plenty of sex workers in the past. Another one shouldn’t be special. It’s that she made me feel…normal. Most of the time I feel like a freak. A Taurian male in rut is thought to be irrational and difficult. The moment a bed partner finds out that I have a knot, they look at me differently. Treat me differently. Demand more coin for “extra” work. Like I’m aproblem.
Sarya didn’t act like I was a problem. Didn’t act like my knot was an issue, just noted that it was there and it was nothing but another tool for pleasure. There was something about her—her self-deprecating humor, her ease with my body, and how she used me to give herself pleasure. All of that fascinates me. Her gorgeously thick curves helped, too. I don’t care what she looks like—all humans are a little bit strange-looking to a Taurian—but I want to see her again. I want to talk to her again. Hear that throaty little chuckle of hers. I just want to get to know her, which sounds ridiculous considering that it’s her job to fuck and not chat.
I want to be with her. Just…with her.
I can’t find her anywhere, though. She’s disappeared. Every person I asked in the hospital gave me the stink eye, as if they would never hire a sex worker on my behalf. I’m guessing they’re not supposed to talk about it. I’ve approached all the brothels, too, looking for a tall, busty blonde named Sarya. No luck.
My knot has been aching since I was released, and I should just hire one of the many men or women who service the city’s sexual needs. Pay extra to have someone work my knot the same casual way she did. Or just break down and get another potion dose. But I want Sarya. I’ve never been choosy in the past, but I suppose everyone can have a change of heart, even a lecherous piece of shit like me. Maybe it’s not just Sarya. Maybe it’s that Hawk, my oldest friend, is utterly besotted with his new human wife. That he has a partner—not just for upcoming Conquest Moons but for every day in between.
I’m envious. I’ve never had a romantic partner. Sex partner, yes. But romantic? No. Most respectable men and women run for the hills when they hear I have a knot, and the disrespectable ones are just interested in my coin. I’m back to taking cock-deadening concoctions.
Maybe that’s why they’ve called me in. I’ve been caught. They’ve realized I’ve been loading up on potions on the sly. “What’s wrong withfrequenting brothels?” I ask, since they’re both being rather quiet. “Didn’t know it was suddenly against the rules.”
“It’s not,” Rooster says in that same delicate, sour tone that tells me he doesn’t approve. “But it does make me wonder about your discretion.”
“Raptor is the most trustworthy male I know,” Hawk says immediately, sitting up as if he wishes to fight in my defense. “Just because he’s hiring companions doesn’t mean that he can’t keep a secret.”
So…I’m not in trouble. They’re just worried I can’t keep asecret? I arch a brow at Hawk, wondering what the muck this is about. He’s busy staring down Rooster, though, as if daring him to take a chance on me. “I know when to keep my mouth shut.”
After all, no one in this room knows that I’ve been pilfering artifacts from Lord Nostrum’s expeditions for my own pockets. Been doing that for years and never been caught. I take stuff that only brings a few pennies here and there on the black market. I’ve gotten good at spotting things, and the person I sell them to never asks questions. It’s helped me keep my potion habit going. It’s helped me pay off a friend’s debts. It’s helped keep me afloat when Lord Nostrum decides that he’s not going to pay us for an excursion, or our Five ends up with a fruitless run. Is it skimming off the top? Yes. Is it illegal? Yes. Is it hurting anyone? No.
I wouldn’t have to do it if cheap Lord Nostrum paid his team every excursion. A lot of the time, he decides that our efforts are not worth his coin and won’t open his wallet. It gets harder and harder for him to carry a team that doesn’t know if it’ll get paid or not. I’ve been his only long-term artificer, and that’s because I’m taking a bit here and there to make ends meet. As it is, I can barely keep ahead on my potion costs. Which makes me think of Sarya again, and the envy I feel at Hawk’s contentment.
The guild master exchanges a look with Hawk, and silence falls on the room again.
“We have a problem,” Rooster finally says.
I can’t imagine how it involves me, but I remain silent, waiting.
“There are thieves in the guild.” Rooster’s expression is that of a deeply disappointed father.
Is this a setup? “You don’t say.”
Hawk clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat. “The guild always has problems with a bit of thievery. Snatching a few trinkets here andthere isn’t what we’re talking about. We’re seeing Greater Artifacts that are disappearing from guild storage or from the archives before they can be sold, only to appear on the black market a short time later. It’s been occurring for the last year or so, and we’ve only realized it within the last few months. To date, thirteen Greater and twenty-nine Lesser Artifacts have been recorded as stolen.”
I whistle, because that’s a lot of coin to drift out of the guild.
Hawk nods in agreement with my reaction. “Exactly. And it’s coming from someone—orseveralsomeones—who obviously have access to guild buildings normally off-limits to citizens.”
“We do not think it is an artificer,” Rooster adds. “They won’t be paid until the sale, so a stolen artifact cuts into their personal profit.”
