Page 40 of These Vile Hearts
She tilts her head at me, a slight smile on her dark plum lips. “Such a soft boy you are, when you stop pretending to be cold and indifferent.”
I really should ask that mortal how she manages to craft her emotionless masks. Evidently, mine is made of glass. My eyes cast down to my lap. “Careful what you say to me. My curse might mistake your pity for love and Magesté will be left without a madam.”
“Chin up, Castor,” she scolds. “It won’t do to wallow in guilt and self-loathing. I know you think you are made of the same vile material as so many of the cruel and entitled men who frequent this establishment, but trust me when I sayyou are not them.”
A muscle jumps in my jaw.No, I’m worse.
Evodia sighs. “Which brings me to the girl you intend to enchant into loving you.”
My bowed head lifts. “What about her?”
“Are you genuinely willing to sacrifice this mortal to your curse in order to be free of it?”
The recent memory of Maddox’s furious silver eyes resurfaces, how she looked at that golden dagger with bloodthirsty longing. “Thismortal? Yes, I am.”
“Why her?”
Finally, something I can say with complete conviction. “Because she tried to killmefirst.”
Before Evodia can respond, the air is rent with the sound of pounding—and not the kind of pounding you would expect in a pleasure house. Fists slam on the iron door. I sweep from the chair to peer through the peephole.
Deep red hair. Speckled face. Eyes of iron.
“Who is it?” Evodia hisses.
“The charming mortal meant to fall in love with me.”
The pounding comes again. Harder. Accompanied by yelling. “King Castor,” Maddox bellows. “Thiswhoreof yours requests a word.”
Tamarind wrenches her arm from the door. “Are youmad?” he snarls, grappling her.
“Yeah, I’m fucking furious.”
“No, that is not—”
Evodia huffs an incredulous laugh as the pounding intensifies, rattling the pictures and sconces on the walls. “Are you sure she is human and not banshee?”
Regretting it instantly, I open the door to allow the choleric woman entry.
“You both may come in,” I state calmly, as if she isn’t losing her mind out here in the hall. As if every one of my nerve endings isn’t blistering with ardent anxiety. “Release her, Tamarind.”
My guard shoots me a doubtful look before liberating the feral mortal. Immediately, she pushes past me into the room, stopping short when she spots Evodia behind the desk.
“You must be Madam Debray,” Maddox says. “As in, themadamof this brothel the dear king has sold me to.” Tamarind shuts the door behind him as Maddox rounds on me. “Left a few things out of your little debt repayment plan, didn’t you?”
With forced composure, I return to the seat across from Evodia’s desk, sinking into it and propping my arms on the rests. “I’ve sold you to no one.”
Maddox shadows me, craning over the chair like a ravenous vulture. Tamarind keeps his scythe clenched in his hand, ready to strike if prompted.
“Whether money is involved or not,” she growls, “I never agreedto accept you as my pimp. If I’m going to fuck someone, I’m going to be the one who says so.”
Unexpected heat spreads through me at her words along with a lewd image I banish from my mind. My logical brain knows this mortal is a dangerous creature to keep at arm’s length, but my body knows only my fondness for strong women and affinity for redheads. Typical that a masochistic dryad such as myself would be turned on by mere suggestion of fire.
Evodia regards Maddox with newfound intrigue. “Maddox, was it? Your anger is not unwarranted, but I believe you are quite mistaken. The king has informed me of the terms of your agreement. If you wish to prove yourself to him, you may work for me, not as an orchid—a pleasure giver, that is to say—but as a bookkeeper.”
Cheeks flushed, Maddox’s wild eyes briefly cut to mine before returning to Evodia, whose words have somehow acted as a flame retardant to this human bonfire.
“Bookkeeper?”
