Dark Sonata Page 9

  That was enough said.

  Ezra wrapped his arm around Victoria tighter, getting a better hold on her. She moaned softly, the sound making Ezra’s heart twist oddly. Expelling a breath he looked at Elm. “Elm, we need a plan. Think.” He examined the bustling crowd, watching for any signs of the Liorian spies. He could feel them nearing as seconds ticked by. He smiled at some passing women making them pale and retreat in a different direction.

  Elm furrowed his brows, running a hand through his crimson hair.

  “Give me a second. And it would help if you didn’t smile Ezra, it scares the shit out of everyone,” he said as he also surveyed the crowd.

  Elm was the only person in his life that kept him sane, especially when in the presence of Sir Moron. Elm was tall and built like himself with a quick wit. They both shared the same desire to acquire a complete soul, wanting to be done with the Fallen. Ezra wasn’t just going to bargain his life, but Elm’s and Tiny’s as well.

  If he were right about Victoria then the Liorians would do anything to get her out of the hands of Moray. This was their only chance at freedom.

  Elm peered at the lifeless Victoria. “Ezra, we need to blend in. They know we’re here so we must come up with some sort of …” he trailed off, “… some good reason why we are here, a reason completely innocent. We are breaking the law by just breathing this air.”

  Time was running out. If they got caught disturbing the peace they would be thrown into the Liorian dungeons. He never wanted to relive that again, some of the worst horrors of his life happened there. Once he had been tied on a wall with a double-ended razor knife secured to his neck. If he had fallen asleep, his head would have fallen forward and the blades pierced up under his jaw and down into the top of his chest. For three solid weeks he remained awake. He survived, but the mental anguish left him scarred, even though it happened so long ago.

  Sweat broke out over his brow.

  Ezra closed his eyes trying to think. “The only way they will dismiss us as not a threat is to appear …” he glanced around, “drunk out of our minds. Yes!” Ezra said, knowing that would be an excellent way to get off the hook. One couldn’t get mad at someone who didn’t know what the hell they’re doing, in a sense.

  Elm regarded him for a minute, his emerald eyes thoughtful. “Yes. Like we have no idea what we are doing, brilliant. They will just think we have lost it … and are too drunk to realize where we are. They will just deport us back or leave us be.” Elm grinned then frowned at him. “They will probably want to deport us seeing how you’re Moray’s son.”

  “Brilliant,” Tiny agreed, leaning in, his face coming dangerously close to Victoria’s. He closed his eyes and inhaled her hair, eyes rolling back into his head. “Cinnamon.”

  Ezra gave Tiny a withering look then glanced back at Elm. “What’s wrong?”

  “What are we going to do with her?”

  If the Liorians saw him packing around an unconscious woman then that would raise red flags instantly.

  “Let’s get her inside and change her clothes, she screams royalty in this dress. And even though,” he paused as he took in the ripped fabric of her skirts, and seeing her pale flesh was not helping him think clearly. “She looks as though she’s been through hell.”

  Elm gave him a look then glanced around. “She has.”

  Tiny leaned in closer to her, smelling her hair again. “That explains a lot.”

  “Tiny?”

  Tiny looked up, eating something unknown, crumbs dusting his stubble. He gave Ezra a blank look as he chewed.

  “You. Stay. Outside. This. Brothel. Savvy?”

  He stood up straighter. “Aye, I’ll blend in. I know these people well.” He winked at a passing whore and raised his eyebrows, gaining a look from her that was nothing short of repugnance.

  Ezra refrained from commenting. He whipped Victoria around and started up the old wooden stairs, Elm right behind. He opened the heavy door and walked in; the brothel had two floors with low lighting, bugs flying around the inadequate gas lamps. Whoever was playing that God awful piano music had just stopped. In fact, everything had just … stopped.

  Maybe it was the fact that they had brought their own woman to a brothel?

  If a pin dropped they would hear it.

  The lusty women were staring at them with wide eyes; some of their mouths dropped open. “Ladies.” He gave a slight bow producing some women to audibly moan, fanning themselves excessively. Not one scantily clad ladybird changed their expression, just like they were carved from stone.

  Elm whispered into his ear. “I think they’re more accustomed to men similar to the likes of Tiny.”

  The women didn’t even notice the comatose woman in his arms; they just seemed to stare up at them all with their lustful gazes. Ezra couldn’t help but grin to ease the tension, not wanting to create a scene that would alert the Liorians.

  “I will be needing service from one of you …” He didn’t even get all of the words out before the females started to pinch their cheeks, fluffing their hair, sticking out their breasts. Ezra exhaled, looking at each one, trying to match a girl with a similar dress size to Victoria. At this point he did not want to use his powers, that would be like pin pointing him out.

  “You. Come with me.” He pointed to a girl who looked like she was going to perspire, her coffee-colored eyes fluttering.

  “Aye, follow me m-mister,” she said breathlessly as her eyes lowered to his manhood then back up with a hungry look.

  Ezra exhaled.

  The young woman sauntered as she walked in front of him, swaying her hips as much as humanly possible. Ezra clenched his jaw in exasperation; if she didn’t hurry up he was going to become violent. They made it to a small bedchamber that smelt of perfume and something he didn’t want to reflect on. He immediately laid Victoria on the large bed then looked up at the girl who was staring at him intently.

  “I am going to need you to take off your clothes. ”

  She interrupted too eagerly, “Aye! I will do and be anythin’ ye want lova.”

  Ezra regarded her for a moment, feeling a tinge of sympathy for the whore. She wasn’t ugly, just a tad on the rough side with her painted face and her suggestive mouth licking. He exhaled, “I need you to swap your clothes with hers.” He pointed to Victoria.

  As if seeing Victoria for the first time she sucked in her breath. “Ye want me ta change me clothes with hers?!”

  Ezra laid a stack of money on the bed, worth more than she’d make in ten lives.

  Her black-rimmed eyes widened. “A-aye, I will do as ye say.” She looked back up at him. “But, are ye still wantin’ ta toss me?”

  Ezra shook his head.

  She looked down at the girl, her hand brushing Victoria’s soft cheek. “Who is she? She ‘ooks like an angel, wit skin so soft. I don’t blame ye fer not wantin’ a tossin’ when ye have the likes of her. Did ye kidnap her?” She looked up at him in wonder, “I would’na mind if ye kidnapped me.” The girl’s brown gaze eyed him from head to toe, her cheeks heating. “Yer different, very different ain't ye?” She was staring at him with her mouth open and glassy eyes full of astonishment.

  What did she think he was? A bloody angel?

  He gritted his teeth and turned around. “Just get it done.” Pain erupted from somewhere forgotten, somewhere deep inside his dark soul. Victoria was not for him. He had to repeat this to himself as he heard fabric rustling. God’s breath. He didn’t think there was a man alive who wouldn’t turn and look, and if there was one it definitely wasn’t him. Ezra slowly turned to see the other woman who was completely naked, but she was just a blur in his vision …

  His eyes went straight to Victoria who lay in her silk corset, her glorious hair spread around her. Her breasts were pushed up making his mouth go dry instantly. All of the blood was leaving his head and was departing elsewhere in a damn hurry making him extremely uncomfortable. Her long legs still had black stockings on, ending high on her creamy thighs.
The contrast of the black and her skin was making him dizzy, wanting to peel her out of them. Ezra could feel his blood pounding through his veins as he stared, fantasizing. He swallowed, not being able to remember seeing anything more erotic, the black lace made his vision swim the longer he stared. Lace was his undoing, and lace on Victoria was enough to make him believe he was in hell. This was a new kind of hell, wanting something so bad when he could never have it. Victoria looked like a goddess; everything about her was brutal torture for him.

  He turned and immediately opened the window, his mood taking a turn for the worst. “I will be back,” Ezra shot darkly as he jumped out the window hearing the whore’s distant gasp. Once he landed the aroma of the dark alley assaulted his nostrils forcing him to cover his nose. “For fuck’s sake,” he hissed under his breath as he walked around the building to where the entire population of Dublin resided in intoxication. He knew why everyone was inebriated; they couldn’t smell.

  “Ezra!” Elm came running up to him with a bottle of burgundy liquor in hand, Tiny right behind him, trying to pull down his tight gray vest that kept sliding upwards to his tummy.

  Ezra tensed when he saw the look of panic etched into Elm’s features.

  “If we’re going to do this we better do it right. Here, drink this. I put a substance into it so it affects us faster. They’re up the bloody street! Michael is here of all people!”

  Ezra swore; anyone but Michael. “What did you put into the drink? Remember what happened last time?” Last time when he took a drink from Elm he ended up in the Liorian dungeon, naked.

  Tiny took the bottle out Elm’s hand, gulping the liquid down like water. Trickles of liquor streamed down his round jaw as he swallowed heavily. Gasping, Moorhead handed the bottle to Ezra after he burped for an extended period of time.

  “Blood hell Tiny. We need to be drunk not smashed!” Ezra whispered harshly then snatched the bottle, taking big long swigs, feeling the burning liquid coat his throat. His gag reflex wanted to kick in. That‘s the worst sort of shit he has tasted in a long while. Ezra coughed, “E-Elm! God’s teeth what did you put in that? Acid?!”

  “Whoa!” Elm hooted, his emerald eyes going wide, giving Ezra the eye as he stumbled.

  Ezra’s heart was pounding as he looked to where Elm was nodding too. Masters. It wasn’t hard to miss them; they looked like assassins weaving through the crowd. He looked down at his attire and quickly picked up a long overcoat that some drunken man left and put it on to cover up his ripped shirt. Tiny’s brown eyes widened when he looked down at his clothes and followed suit, finding a random lacy cloak over by the saloon. Ezra doubted Tiny knew it was a female garment.

  Ezra glanced around and took a steady breath then let a slow grin spread across his lips. “They know we’re here so why not use a bit of magic,” he whispered to Elm. Ezra clapped his hands making his cloak a deep maroon and his top hat a plum purple.

  “Ezra,” Elm hissed as he followed him through the bustling crowd, “What the hell are you doing?!”

  He turned and grinned. “Why, I’m making it believable of course.” Ezra glanced to his left and narrowed his gaze as he spotted two Masters, one of which he knew very well. Hael. The bile in his throat was already rising. The living cupid will one day die a horrid death, by his hand. “Go get Tiny.”

  Moorhead was grinning at a rather large woman, licking his thin lips and raising his brows suggestively. Ezra was fairly certain that move had never worked on any female in history. The loud slap across his face seemed to do nothing to Tiny’s pride as he continued to drool over the wretch’s outsized breasts. He suddenly gaped at Ezra, looking mystified. “What a woman …” Tiny trailed off, eyes going crossed momentarily.

  Ezra tipped his hat to him. “I think she likes you.” He turned back to Elm and stumbled into him, appearing to be drunk. He whispered, “Come on Elm, old chap. Sing with me.”

  “I don’t want to sing,” he hissed back, his forehead dotting with perspiration. “We should blend in, not stand out.”

  Tiny manifested beside Ezra who also stumbled into Elm. “Aye!” he yelled, “Elm.” He went to slap him on the back but only hit air leaving him staring at his hand, mystified.

  The drink Elm made was starting to hit him as well. His hands began to tingle. Ezra’s vision blurred slightly and it felt like the ground violently tilted to the left. He prayed it was not witch’s blood Elm put in their drinks.

  Ezra cleared his throat, gaining everyone’s attention, along with a bit of magic to silence everyone. Ezra pointed to the man with the fiddle that started playing flawlessly and the other drunken members of his meager band joined in. Ezra eyed everyone in the crowd and started to sing in a perfect Irish accent, “Kissed my darlin’ mother, Drank a pint of beer, My grief and tears to smother, Then off to reap the corn, And leave where I was born, I cut a stout blackthorn, To banish ghost and goblin, In a brand new pair of brogues, I rattled o'er the bogs, And frightened all the dogs …”

  The dingy crowd joined in with hoots and hollers just as Ezra knew they would. He sang along with them as he stomped his foot in rhythm. The thumping beat seemed to excite the incoherent population with everyone following suit, performing some sort of Irish dancing. Elm joined him, wrapping an arm around Ezra’s neck and leaning in close.

  “They’re watching us,” he whispered harshly.

  Ezra laughed. “Of course they are!”

  “They’re going to deport us any second and there is nothing we can do about it.” Elm leaned drunkenly into him and hooted loudly looking quite pale, and scared.

  “No they won’t.” He could feel the Master’s power wrapping around them, trying to contain them and take them back to the Underrealm. His eyes locked onto Michael’s searing blue ones in the audience, it was the look of fury. The Master was slightly transparent being invisible to the human eye. Not buying our harmless drunken performance? Well, it was time to raise the bars then.

  Ezra pulled the brim of his plum top hat down and grinned at the crowd, drawing their attention. Michael was sworn to protect the human population, time to use that against him. He held out his hand feeling the sudden rain drops beginning to fall, like Mother Nature couldn’t stand the thought of him, weeping in misery. Smart woman. In his hand a silver violin materialized, its sleek body gleaming in the early morning moonlight.

  Such beauty and such power in something so small.

  A woman in the crowd started clapping wildly when she saw him raise the violin to his chin. She bellowed, “’ook! He’s gone ta play fer us!”

  The rain can down harder.

  Ezra grinned at her flushed features then raised his pale gaze to Michael’s intense ones. “Take off your hold or I will play a song the crowd will never forget,” he barely whispered, knowing full and well that Michael heard every word.

  The hold on him became stronger.

  Ezra tipped his head in Michael’s direction. “Have it your way old man.” It was time to stop this Irish singing and play one of his tunes. The first smooth stroke of the violin caused the sky above to crack with thunder making the crowd jump with concerned looks on their grimy faces. The haunting notes that came off of his violin matched the fear now etched into his listener’s eyes. Though they could not see the serpents slithering around their feet, he’d bet they could feel it. They could feel the darkness, the unease.

  Ezra shot Elm and Tiny an intense look. “Go retrieve my demon girlfriend. Now,” he hissed.

  Elm did not miss his meaning and left in a hurry with Tiny on his heels.

  The taste of blood in his mouth was becoming more evident the more he played, but he ignored it for Michael was suddenly beside him.

  “Let go of the sound Ezra,” came the low threat. Michael’s pale hair was tied back giving him a severe look. He was the same height as Ezra eluding grace and power with every move, that of a watchful lion with the sense of a wise owl.

  “As soon as you let go of me, Blondie,” Ezra countered and as anot
her crash of thunder rocked the land making the people start to scatter, wanting to get out of the coming storm.

  “You forget who I am?” Michael questioned with a dark look.

  Ezra grinned at him and nodded to a female still watching him play. “Ditto.” Michael’s eyes went to the snake that was in the process of wrapping itself around the lady’s ankles. She gasped, not understanding what was happening to her.

  The woman’s face whitened and she let off a strangled cry, something close to a wounded animal. The serpent seemed to be feeding off of the woman’s fear, gaining size by the second.

  “What do you want Ezra? To stay here and make merry with the people of Dublin?” Michael stepped closer, “I hope you don’t think me that ignorant.”

  Ezra pulled back the serpents a little before he lost control. “Actually, Michael, me and my … crew were on our way to Sydonia. Which as you should know is right next to here and completely legal.”

  Michael eyed him then looked over to the woman who was in the mists of choking, panic in her bulging eyes.

  “Just let me pass and I will be on my way,” he said carefully, with innocence.

  “You may pass Ezra, but I will be watching you. If I catch you outside Sydonia I will resort to drastic measures.”

  Ezra let go of the sound causing the woman to scream in relief. She gasped and looked around, breathing heavily, eyes wide with fear. She stood on wobbly legs and hobbled off, whimpering and crying. Blood dripped from out of Ezra’s nose as he nodded. “Feel free to join me Michael, Sydonia is a very accommodating place. The first drink is on me.”

  Michael gave him a look Ezra couldn’t read and nodded towards his bleeding nose. “Be careful Ezra, I should hate to lose you over a violin.”

  Then he was gone.

  Ezra frowned at his comment, thinking Michael didn’t make any more sense than he did.