By Chance Met (11 page)

Almost as soon as Naeth appeared the audience began to shout their bids, not bothering to wait for Davon to start the proceedings.

“Sixty sovereigns!”

“Nay, sixty-five!”

“Eighty!”

Naeth was rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move or even so much as blink his

eyes. Even when several Deira demanded that more of his body be exposed, he did not react in his shock. But when Davon came up to him and loosened the front of his shirt further so that it parted to expose his nipples, he jerked back, shaking his head pleadingly.

That seemed to further excite the crowd for the bids escalated in amount. Naeth realized with deepening horror that these Deira were vying not just for the privilege of deflowering him but also for the right to rape him for the length of one whole night. He cried out at last and tried to escape Davon’s surprisingly strong grip.

“Don’t think you can back out now,” Davon growled, tightening his hold on Naeth’s arm. “You hear those bids? They’re the highest I’ve ever heard! Now behave or I’ll strip you naked right here and let them all have a go at you. After the winner’s buggered you to his satisfaction, of course,” he added with a nasty grin.

Tears rolled down Naeth’s cheeks, and he began to sob. To no avail. It was what Davon’s clients wanted. His fear stoked their lust as much as his comeliness and his obvious innocence. He could only shake helplessly as Davon yanked his trousers back until his upper thighs and shaft were obscenely outlined beneath the soft material.

An outrageously enormous amount was called out. “Three hundred and fifty

sovereigns!”

Davon shouted, “Sold!” even as protests erupted from the losing bidders.

A Deir of middle years with thinning hair and a slight potbelly stood up and came forward to claim his prize. Davon thrust Naeth toward his buyer. Naeth flinched as the Deir crudely pinched his nipples then rubbed his crotch through his trousers. He reached behind Naeth with both hands, cupped his buttocks and squeezed them hard.

“Saints above but you’re the most luscious thing I’ve ever come across,” the Deir muttered, his thick fingers digging painfully into the cleft of Naeth’s backside. “Where’s our room?” he hoarsely asked Davon. “I can’t wait to ream his arse!”

“This way,” Davon said, forcibly pulling Naeth off the stage. “Enjoy yourself. He’s yours for the night. Of course, if you want to go further—and I can’t blame you if you do, he’s a right beauty—do tell me now so he can prepare himself. I’m a reasonable Deir. I’ll let you tup him all the way for a minimal addition to your bid.”

He turned, dragging Naeth along. They walked into a Deir who did not so much as budge an inch. Naeth looked up and glimpsed a pair of steely green eyes glaring at Davon.

“Not if you value your life,” Reijir Arthanna snarled.

Obviously taken aback, Davon nervously gestured to two beefy Deira who lurked in the shadows, watching for trouble and prepared to eject any bothersome customers from the premises.

The pair advanced on Reijir, wielding stout clubs warningly. But they stopped in their tracks when Keiran and Ruomi barred the way, their daggers though sheathed clearly visible on their belts.

“This isn’t worth a knife in the gut, now is it?” Keiran coolly drawled.

Neither doorkeeper disagreed. Ruomi relieved them of the clubs and forced them down on their knees,

Meanwhile, Reijir’s eyes never left Davon.

“Do your clients know that lad is three years short of thirty?” he said, his voice carrying in the close room. “Or do they think raping a youngster worth a high dance on the scaffold?”

At once there was a mad scramble for the door. Even the winning bidder hastily departed, leaving Davon to face Reijir.

“Nay, Your Grace,” he stuttered. “I assure you, I didn’t know. Lemael failed to inform me. Had I known, I would never have taken him in.”

Reijir’s fist smashed into his face. Davon fell back on his arse, clapping his hand to a rapidly darkening eye.

“Don’t play the dupe with me,” Reijir snapped. “You knew he was below age.” He looked across to the door where several of Davon’s
felkar
peeked in curiously. “How many more of those lads are minors?”

Real fear showed in Davon’s eyes. “None, my lord!” he protested. “They’re all of age, I swear!”

“
Now
they are. Were they when you first whored them out?” Reijir challenged.

When Davon gaped at him, he grimly smiled. “I thought so.”

Grabbing the Deir by the collar, he hauled him to his feet. Davon teetered on tiptoes as Reijir forced him to look him squarely in the face.

“Far be it from me to pass judgment on consenting adults however repugnant their choices might be,” he murmured, his voice dripping with anger and contempt. “But you are of the lowest kind, preying on youngsters and earning from their ignorance and misery. You I
will
judge and exact suitable punishment.”

He glanced down. So did Davon. The procurer’s eyes widened in alarm. He yelped and tried to wriggle out of Reijir’s iron grip, then babbled a litany of pleas for mercy.

His entreaties fell on deaf ears. There was a flash of steel followed by shriek upon bloodcurdling shriek.

Davon staggered back, his hands at his bloodied crotch. He fell to his knees, keening in pain and horror at his maiming. The watching prostitutes cried out then quickly retreated from sight.

Keiran addressed the stunned doorkeepers. “Count yourselves fortunate that you’re only his lackeys. If I were you, I’d look for new employment before word of what happened here gets around.”

The two looked at each other uncertainly then got to their feet and dashed out of the chamber. Reijir ignored Davon’s wails and stepped around him to confront Naeth.

In his shock, Naeth had not said a word or made a move. He now apprehensively looked at Reijir.

Reijir’s lips tightened. He grabbed Naeth’s arm none too gently. That snapped Naeth out of his daze. He whimpered when Reijir’s grip turned painful.

“Ah! Please,
Dyhar
,” he gasped. “You’re hurting me.”

“Hold your tongue!” Reijir snapped. When Naeth stared at him, startled by his brusqueness, he angrily bit out, “Fool of a brat! Putting us through all this trouble to save you from your stupidity!”

“Rei, I don’t think—” Keiran began to say.

Reijir turned on him. “Not a word,” he growled. He shoved Naeth toward the door.

“And you’d better have a good reason for this harebrained stunt of yours!”

*

Keiran looked worriedly at Ruomi. The
sedyr
sighed and shook his head.

“Let’s hope he calms down before we get home,” he said.

“And if he doesn’t?” Keiran muttered as they headed out.

“Then pray Naeth finds the right words to say.”

“The right—Why, thank you, Ruo. That makes me feel
sooo
much better!”

Unfortunately, Reijir’s temper did not improve by the time they returned to the townhouse. His hot fury was merely replaced by a cold rage that was far more worrisome. When Reijir was in just such a mood, it was next to impossible to read him and anticipate his next move.

He did not speak but simply glared Naeth into accompanying him up the stairs to the second floor. A black look over his shoulder warned Keiran and Ruomi not to follow or interfere. Keiran watched them mount the stairs in apprehension.

“He’ll do something they’ll both regret,” he whispered.

Ruomi placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it soothingly. “He’s more likely to come to his senses first.”

Keiran sighed and leaned back against Ruomi. “I hope you’re right.”

They both winced as a door was violently slammed somewhere above them.

Reijir’s expression was not the least bit encouraging. His eyes were dangerously stony while his mouth was a thin taut line of pure anger. He advanced slowly on Naeth, compelling him to retreat until the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He lost his balance and fell back in a semi-sprawl. Reijir’s icy glower did not change as he regarded his wayward charge.

“Why did you leave?” he snapped.

“I, uh—”

“Talk fast, Naeth. I’m in no mood for long-winded excuses.”

“Nay, I’m not—I just want to—” Naeth gulped when Reijir shot him a blistering glare. His next words came out in a rush. “I didn’t want to be a burden to you any longer!”

Reijir’s eyes narrowed in bafflement. “A burden to me? Where in Aisen did you get that idea?”

“I heard you talking with Keiran,” Naeth admitted haltingly. “You told him you wished you’d never taken me in. That I would cause you to do wrong if I persisted in-in liking you.” When Reijir stared at him in even more confusion, he added, “It was the day after you took me along to the Citadel. I’d left you in the study to deliver everyone’s letters.”

He cringed when Reijir’s eyes widened in comprehension, and his jaw all but dropped from sheer incredulity. The Herun ran a hand agitatedly through his hair and directed an awful stare at Naeth.

“You idiot!” he shouted. “You take off with next to no money, try to lead us on a merry chase with the most pathetic attempt at misdirection I’ve ever known, and nigh ended up buggered within an inch of your life in the space of three days! And all because you heard something you didn’t understand and thought running away would solve everything?”

Naeth gulped. “I’m-I’m so sorry,” he mumbled.

That was a mistake. Reijir’s stare only grew blacker.

“That’s all you have to say?” he sarcastically said. “You left to avoid leading me into wrongdoing, but thanks to your foolishness, I‘ve committed all manner of wrongdoing today! I almost beat your friend’s mate to a pulp, probably broke up their marriage for good, then came near to throttling that fat-bellied lech when he pawed and poked you.

And to top it all, I sliced up that oily-tongued purveyor of filth! Holy saints, I’ve fought and killed Deira before, but I’ve never gelded one!”

Naeth’s breathing quickened as Reijir’s diatribe rose in volume and bile.

“I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble,” he stammered. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“By whoring yourself?” Reijir shot back.

Eyes tearing up, Naeth shook his head. “I didn’t want to. It disgusted me. But I had nowhere to go. I didn’t know what else to do. I—I just had to bear it.”

Reijir went utterly still. “Bear it?” he repeated in an ominously low voice. “So you would have gone ahead and spread yourself for that paunchy degenerate?”

“I didn’t have much choice—”

“You would have let him fuck you until you bled?”

Naeth was shocked by the Herun’s crude language. “Please,
Dyhar
,” he begged. “It’s not that I wanted to—”

“You nigh sullied yourself irredeemably and for what? Over a misunderstanding?”

Reijir grabbed Naeth by the arms and roughly pushed him down on his back. “You would have given yourself to a stranger for a mere pittance compared to what you’ve been receiving from me?” he murmured, his voice suddenly husky. “Considering how much I’ve already spent on you, that makes me the highest bidder for your precious virginity, don’t you agree?”

Naeth caught his breath at Reijir’s abrupt change in manner. An unholy light gleamed in the Herun’s eyes, making him more terrifying than when he was actively enraged. Naeth planted his hands on Reijir’s chest and attempted to push him away.

Reijir snorted and leaned down farther, trapping Naeth’s hands between them.

“A
felka
isn’t supposed to resist his customers,” he chided. “You aspired to be a whore, Naeth. Try behaving like one. You won’t last long in the business if you don’t learn how to please your clients.”

“Please, don’t—” Naeth half sobbed. “Not-not like this.”

“Then how?” Reijir taunted him. “Like this?”

Naeth cried out as his shirt was ripped open. He stared in wide-eyed shock at Reijir, unable to see the Deir he worshipped in the cold and calculating noble who looked set to ravish him without care or pity.

He shook his head wordlessly, failing to summon anything that would turn Reijir from his path. Again, he tried to push the Herun away. Reijir retaliated by crushing him into the mattress and smothering his resulting protest with a savage kiss.

Naeth feebly struggled, but he was no match for the Herun’s strength. He tried to turn his face away and break the scorching seal of their mouths, but Reijir cupped his chin and forced him to respond. And respond he did to his dismay.

It was not how he had envisioned his first kiss with Reijir, but it was a kiss nonetheless. A plundering, possessive kiss that left him breathless, robbed him of

lucidity, and stoked a slow fire in his belly.

Before he knew it, he met the sensuous stab of Reijir’s tongue into his mouth with his own tentative dips. Reijir smoothed his hand upward along his flank and came to rest on his chest whereupon the Herun stroked a nipple to a hard nub. Naeth instinctively arched into the caress. And down below, his shaft reacted to the frictional slide of Reijir’s groin against him. As if they were not a part of him, his hips lifted, seeking more stimulating contact. When it came, he shuddered with the sensations of arousal.

Deep shame swept over him at the same time sharp desire surged within. He wept then, sobbing softly even as he welcomed kiss upon kiss on his yielding lips and mouth.

Reijir suddenly stiffened above him.

Naeth heaved a shaky breath as his lips were released. He opened watery eyes to peer at the Herun. Reijir was staring at him, his eyes dark and unfathomable. But the frightening gleam in their depths was gone. And so was the nigh contemptuous curve of his mouth.

“
Dyhar?
” Naeth shakily whispered, wondering why Reijir had ceased his assault. He lifted a visibly trembling hand and touched the Herun’s cheek.

Reijir jerked back as if burned. He let go of Naeth, pushed himself off him and rose to his feet. Without a word, he straightened his tunic and ran his fingers through his hair to smooth the tousled locks. All the while, he stared unseeingly before him and did not look at Naeth. He strode to the door and opened it.