Jake stared down the bridge of his nose at the southern man. The last time he saw anyone curled up in such a tight, miserable little ball, he was helping Llyr and Martine set Ianto’s arm after he’d broken it in a wrestling match with his brothers.
That a healthy, full-grown man easily four times the child’s size was acting worse than a toddler with a broken bone was baffling.
But it wasn’t entirely unexpected, given what he now knew about exactly how Nikko arrived on their shore. He couldn’t fathom having to live with what the man did, knowing he was responsible for his sister’s death. He couldn’t even imagine himself in the man’s place. The countless hours he spent over the years, attempting to master and refine his own powers to negate that possibility, wouldn’t allow him to.
What he did know was that wallowing in misery never led to good outcomes. He’d seen it time and again, and despite his irritation over how the man came into their circle—and his cantankerous attitude now he was lucid—he wasn’t of a mind to just let him sit and rot in the Mermaid’s cellar with only his ghastly memories for company.
Not to mention the particular class of people clearly wanting to take him back where he came from. There hadn’t been any whispers—yet—of out-of-the-ordinary things, but Jake knew it was only a matter of time. Information was spotty, given the shakeup within the Armada of the Middle Sea, and without the Praetori paying the standard tithe to take their ships through the Armada’s waters unaccosted, they were going to have to figure out a different method to keep tabs on the goings-on of the southerners.
And nothing would get the rumor mill churning faster than an absurdly tall white-haired man being sighted roaming the streets of Reichstenn. It was win-win, in his eyes, at least. As long as it was widely known he was only ever in their manor or the Mermaid, the wards and spells he and Trip put in place years ago were more than enough to take care of all but the most skilled of burglars.
“So… you just want to huddle down here, with your nose in your knees, and…” Though the possibility seemed absurd, the need to goad the man into doing something got the better of him. “Get even more pale and sickly looking?”
He looked over at his sister, whose disinterest in pushing her rescue to do anything he didn’t want led her across the cellar to snoop inside a newly arrived crate of Lorrani bottles. “There’s not another one in there. Caterina’s not stupid enough to let something like that off her ship.”
Trip grunted and shoveled the straw back into the crate. “Then I’m going to need you to help me exact my revenge on that pirate bitch who drank it all without me.”
“Or, you can get our new friend here to come out into the sun before it starts raining again for a week, so we don’t have to cure him of something even worse than what he’s already been through.”
“I’m fine.” Nikko’s voice was raspy and filtered through two sleeves and a bed sheet. “Leave me be.”
Throwing her hands wide, Trip returned to stand beside him with a lethargic shrug. “Man doesn’t want to move. Why make him? It’s going to be pouring again by sunset.”
“So we let him trade one cage for a slightly more comfortable cell?”
“A comfy cell with lovely scenery to look at,” said Trip with a wag of her finger. “I’ve been working with Geneva and Shaper, does she have it bad for this one. She’s been wanting to give him a free tumble since he stopped looking like death in a blanket. Not to mention Madam’s vices.”
Following her line of attack, he nodded and continued prodding. “Is she letting her work with patrons now?”
“She’s picking everything up quick, so probably by the end of Monsoon. Could be a fun, no-hassle first, huh? I can pay her more than enough to give him a few nights of fun.” She smiled at the man’s withering glare. “When’s the last time you relaxed with anything other than your hands?”
With what could only be described as a feral growl, Nikko rolled himself out of his ball and shouldered his way past them both, storming up the stairway. After cursing under his breath in a mix of Low Praetori and something even more foreign, he came to a stop on the landing, clearly confused as to which way to turn down the long, dim hall.
“Where do we want to take him?”
She took to the stairs in front of him. “Less people to stare at home, just the right ones to see him going there.”
He nodded and followed her up. While she wrangled the man out the rear door, he returned to the foyer and seated himself at the bar. Given it was still early, the Scarlet Mermaid was missing its usual bevy of patrons lounging among the plush couches and over-large floor cushions.
Madam Scarlet herself, hair now dyed a shade of deep auburn to synchronize with the changing of the seasons, leaned over the bar and squinted at the hallway leading to the cellar. “He’s up and around rather quick, given what we were drugging him with.”
“I’d give the Shaper credit, but I think the man’s just an unnaturally stubborn arse.” The Madam chuckled and returned to taking stock of the bar as he continued. “I don’t think he’s going to be amenable to staying at the manor with us, at least not until we work out a way to force him into it. Are you still willing to let him stay here?”
Having deliberately set herself up at the bar to ‘take inventory’, she scribbled down a few words on her ledger to keep up the ruse. “As long as he follows my rules and doesn’t make trouble with anyone, he’s welcome to stay as long as he pleases.” She slid a slip of parchment plucked from the back of the book across the counter to him. “And you two find me what’s on there to offset the costs of feeding of him.”
He laughed at the woman’s lustful sigh as they heard the rear door close. “Yes, Madam.”
Scarlet wagged the plume of her pen at him. “Don’t you judge me, boy. That’s the most handsome thing on two legs to come through my doors in years that I don’t feel related to in some fashion. As long as he’s not a threat, I’m going to enjoy the sight of him coming and going for however long it pleases me.”
He glanced down at the list and did a silent calculation. The Madam did not have cheap or common tastes, but the bourbons she requested weren’t anything they couldn’t track down, given a little time. It was the box of Amam’shir dates that would prove difficult to source; no ship from the desert nation had made port in the Lagoon since the Revolution began. Still, like their mother, Scarlet rarely asked for anything beyond a respect for her boundaries, and neither he nor Trip ever saw much reason to refuse the rare request she made of them.
“Have you heard anything?”
Knowing exactly what he was asking after, the woman lost her merry smile. “Xanas is currently trying his damnedest to avoid the notice of Chezrevi. And before you ask, no, no one’s there. Smokebottom Cove is profitable, but no one on my books will be heading over while that maelstrom is still churning. Especially if that Lorrani prick found the balls to sail west again.”
“It wasn’t Xanas himself. Just a cousin, from what we’ve been able to dig up. For all we know, he’s still lording over that cesspool in Marshall Deep, trying to breed his way into the Lorrani line of succession.”
Scarlet drummed her fingers on the counter with a scowl. “I played those games all my young life, and I am done. You and your sister are free to do as you like, as you always have been, but I won’t let anyone in my employ get involved, particularly if it has anything to do with that man. Boarding your white-haired rescue is as far as I’m going to go in this, Jaekovi.”
“Because he’s pretty to look at.”
A lascivious smile curled at the corners of her painted lips. “You have your manuscripts, I have my pointy-eared men with brooding eyes and husky voices.”
The ridiculous characterization of Nikko made him sputter. “I’m not sure he’s going to be all that talkative, either.”
“As long as he sits in pleasing light and looks the part, I could care less if he opens his mouth. Probably for the better, given the vitriol he was spouting off in his fits. There’s no way any of those words were complimentary, whatever they were.” She flipped her hand towards the hallway leading to the rear door. “I will ask Rowen if he wishes to visit his mother in Ventali, but it will be up to him whether he goes. If you want current information on the Armada, you need to deal with Caterina, or get a message to Donovan.”
Jake hopped off his stool and bowed politely to the woman. “You’re my favorite madam, Madam.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes at the comment and returned to taking stock of the bar. “You’re too much like your sister for your own good, boy.”