The Song Bird (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

“And Doll now works at Madame Duplee, two streets down on Pacific.”

Avilon laid her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Homer.”

He moved his arm, and her hand fell away. “Just don’t go there at night. Pacific Avenue is completely rotten.”

“I promise.”

* * * *

That night she found no joy in the music. Anger coated every note that came out. She didn’t flirt her way across the stage, flipping her skirts back and forth or batting her eyelashes. All she wanted to do was finish her songs and retreat back into her room. Her mind kept flashing with the picture of Eli and Jason kissing, hiding in the darkness of a foul-smelling alley.

The half hour seemed to drag by, and when Homer played the ending note on the piano, Avilon turned and left the stage. The applause sounded halfhearted, not as enthusiastic as usual, but she didn’t care. She shut the door behind her then sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection. Waiting.

It didn’t take Eli long to come for her. He opened the door with force, a frown marring the space between his eyes.

“What type of singing was that?”

“I have a headache.”

One of his black eyebrows lifted. “Is it that time?”

“That time for what?”

He cleared his throat. “Your female time.”

Avilon had to laugh. “No, Eli. This afternoon gave me a headache. That’s all.”

“Good. Because Jason and I have a delightful evening planned.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbed them. “Perhaps a hot bath? I can have a couple of the cooks start heating some water.”

“No,” she said and pulled her shoulders away from his touch. “I’ll take care of my own bath, thanks.”

His mouth hardened into a straight line as a frown marred the spot between his eyes. But he took the hint and backed away from her. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as she unpinned her hair.

“I wanted to say thank you for your quick thinking today,” he finally said, breaking the mounting tension between them.

“I’m glad the boy didn’t dawdle,” she replied.

Again, silence fell. She kept her eyes on the mirror as she started brushing out tangles. She could feel his eyes on her.

“Actually, I may spend the night here,” she said. “Now that you mentioned it, I am due for my monthly flow soon, so I may as well take advantage of the bed in here.”

“You’re not talking to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

He cocked his head as he studied her. “Are you angry at something?”

The kiss between him and Jason played over in her mind.

“You can talk to me,” he said. “You can trust me.”

Her eyes met his in the mirror. How could he ask her to trust him when he wasn’t reciprocating the feeling?

“Jason told me about the Committee of Vigilance coin,” she finally said, deciding to go with a safer topic instead of the one burning in her heart. Truth of the matter was she didn’t know quite what to say about what she had witnessed.

“You could have made my life a lot easier if you’d just answered all my questions.”

“Jason and I made a promise to protect someone.”

“I’m her family!”

“Politics are always a slippery situation, Avilon.”

“I don’t care about your politics, Eli. I only care about my sister.”

He frowned. “And she’s the only one you care about?”

“What else do I have?”

His lips thinned in displeasure. What she would have given to have access to his thoughts.

“Are Jason and I invisible?”

“You have each other,” she snapped. “And the club. What else do you need?”

He stood. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about the situation your sister was in, but I was doing my best to protect her and you. I understand your frustration, but I don’t know where this vehemence is coming from. I refuse to allow you to sleep anywhere but with us. Now, be nice, and make your rounds on the floor, and Jason and I will escort you to our bed later.”

Without another word, and without allowing her to say anything further, he slammed out of the room. Tears sprung into her eyes, and she impatiently wiped them away.

Their lovemaking that night became a statement to the standoff she found herself in with Eli. She felt his anger at her as well as his frustration at her own antagonism. His pale eyes shimmered with exasperation, and that played into the way he manipulated her body.

She saw Jason’s confusion, having no idea of her and Eli’s fight. But he bowed toward Eli’s moves, much to Avilon’s annoyance.

Eli undressed her with cool detachment, but he didn’t touch his own clothes. She wanted to hide herself from his burning gaze, but pride stilled her hands. His fingers trailed lightly over her skin, bringing forth chill bumps and sending her nerves scattering in excitement. She may have been angry with him, but her body didn’t seem to care about their fight or the fact that he had lied to her. His true lover stood behind her, a warm presence waiting for his turn, and it hurt. It hurt knowing she was falling for two men who maybe couldn’t reciprocate her feelings.

But all those words were trapped inside, and she didn’t have the courage to say them out loud. Instead, she watched Eli’s temper transform into passion, just as she didn’t say a word when he spun her around and bent her over the bed.

“You made me mad, Avilon,” he whispered, taking her hands behind her back and holding them in one his. “Sometimes a little punishment is needed.”

Then he smacked her on her behind, and she yelped in surprise. It didn’t really hurt, at least not exactly. It surprised her more than anything because she hadn’t expected it. When he did it again, his fingers managed to brush against her slit, and need suddenly rushed through her. The third slap fell directly on her aching femininity, and she felt her juices start to run. She thrust her ass backward, waiting, but he pulled her up, bringing her flush along his chest so he could whisper into her ear.

“I want you to suck my cock, Avilon, down on your hands and knees, while Jason fucks your sweet pussy.”

How could something that sounded so…debased make her quiver in anticipation? Jason came in front of her, naked, and took her arms to kiss her. Gently, softly, his lips moved as his tongue danced with hers. Dimly she heard the shuffle of clothes falling to the ground and realized Eli must be undressing. Jason broke the kiss and turned her around, guiding her to her knees. Eli’s cock waited for her. Not quite sure what to do, she let instinct take over and grasped the hard length, massaging gently before licking the tip. Eli moaned and pushed his hips forward, clearly wanting more. The head started leaking fluid, and she lapped it up eagerly, filling her mouth with his essence. Soon, he was pumping into her mouth with shallow thrusts.

Several minutes went by, and Avilon quickly wanted more. As if he read her mind, Jason rearranged her, bending her over more as he brought her ass up. His fingers slipped inside her slick passage, mimicking Eli’s movements, in and out. When she moaned around Eli’s cock, Jason pulled his fingers out and immediately filled her pussy with one clean plunge.

They worked her together, Jason filling one end with Eli on the other. It was wild, almost savage. It satisfied a primal need deep inside, and before she knew what was happening, her body was sent into spasms, splintering apart.

“God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Jason gasped. “Oh, Avilon. Yes, baby, that’s it.”

He sped up, pushing faster into her until he let out a moan and she felt his warmth deep inside. In the next instant, Eli grabbed her face and erupted in her mouth, some of his seed spilling from between her lips.

They pulled her onto the bed and curled around her. She lay in the dark, her heart cracking, because in the dim light, she saw Eli’s hand caress Jason’s wrist.

* * * *

Though her destination lay only two streets over, the streets went downward, forcing her to be careful of her footing. One misstep and she’d be tumbling head over heels. The sun shone high in the sky as she finally found Madame Duplee’s establishment, a sturdy-looking two-story house set between two saloons. During the day, it had an innocent quality to it, but she could only imagine what it must be like at night, when all manner of wolves came out.

She made her way down the dank, smelly alley to the back door of the building, where she rapped sharply against the thick wooden door. A second later, a woman opened it, dressed in white aprons. She looked Avilon up and down.

“We don’t need no blessings in this house,” said the woman, and she tried to close the door.

Avilon stuck her foot out, halting its closing. She had deliberately worn her cloister clothing, the stiff cotton and gabardine covering her from the top of her neck to brush along the dirty streets. With the added concealment of her black cloak, the monochromatic color scheme of her clothes gave her the added protection of appearing to be from the church.

“I’m not here to preach,” she assured the cook. “I’m here only to see Doll.”

“Doll ain’t gonna wanna hear your preachin’ neither.” She tried forcing the door closed again, but this time Avilon pushed her way through. The kitchen already boiled with heat as the cooks prepared the afternoon meal.

“Please tell Doll that Louisie’s sister would like a word.”

The cook eyed her up and down before turning to walk up the servants’ stairs, grumbling under her breath. Long minutes passed. Sweat trickled down her back. Except for a few furtive glances, the other kitchen staff ignored her.

Grumbling was heard as the first footfalls hit the top steps. Avilon squared her shoulders as she faced the staircase, waiting. Doll appeared in a sheer wrapper tied over a skimpy nightgown. She paused at the bottom step and looked Avilon over from head to toe before giving a sniff and proceeding to the table pushed against the farthest wall. She sat down with a sigh and rubbed a hand over her face.

“Coffee,” she ordered in a loud, gruff voice. She shot a glance to Avilon, who hadn’t moved. “Well, come on over here. You woke me up, might as well get this over with so I can grab a few more winks before working time.”

Avilon walked over to the table and sat opposite Doll. A wave of sympathy welled up inside her, though she fought to hide it. She sensed that the other woman would neither appreciate nor want any type of pity. Though she was probably around Avilon’s age, Doll had a hardness about her that had aged her, as only years from whoring could do to a person. Her blue eyes were flat, almost lifeless, in a face a little too pale and bloated from a life lived by night and full of drink.

“Louisie’s sister, eh?”

Avilon nodded. “I’m searching for her.”

“Can’t help you there. Last I saw Louisie, we was being fired from Masters’s club.” A cook placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, and Doll wrapped her hands around the mug. “Though truth be told, I should be angry at the bitch for getting us all fired from one of the best places I’ve ever worked.”

“So everyone knew it was Amelia, I mean Louisie, who stole from Eugene Behr?”

“Of course. As soon as he came in, he was asking for her, though she seemed to hate the man. But I guess Masters and Braddock knew what they were doing.” She took a deep drink from the hot brew. “She talked about you a little bit.”

“She did?”

“She had anger in her, but I don’t know why. She wouldn’t talk about it. She had this locket around her neck that she never took off. She’d touch it sometimes and get this faraway look on her face. Whatever memory that necklace held, it was a good one.”

Avilon’s mind whirled. She couldn’t remember a locket, or any other piece of jewelry, that Amelia had treasured.

“What…What was she like?”

Doll shrugged. “Sad, mostly. She had this fragility about her that made her popular with the men.”

Avilon frowned. It was hard picturing her innocent little sister working as an upstairs girl. Eli and Jason flashed across her mind. Then again, was she any different?

“Anything else?”

Avilon blinked. “Do you know where she could be?”

Doll shook her head. “Haven’t a clue. But you could talk to Ellis.”

“Ellis?”

“Yeah. They might not have expressed their…friendship”—Doll said the word with a little smirk on her face—“but there wasn’t anything Ellis wouldn’t do for her. Now, it was nice ta meet ya, but I’m going back to bed.”

Doll rose and picked up her coffee mug. With a nod to Avilon, she went back upstairs. Avilon rose as well, gave a smile of thanks to the cooks, and left.

* * * *

As she walked back toward the club, uphill at that, her mind tried to digest the latest information she had gotten. There were more secrets swirling in San Francisco than ants in an anthill, and just as annoying, too. Ever since she’d been at the club, it had been one lie after another, and she couldn’t wait to leave it all behind.

So preoccupied with her internal ranting, she didn’t see the cart careening out of control down the street. Someone gave a shout, then a woman screamed, and she looked up. She saw the large, heavy cart bearing down on her, and she spun quickly away. Losing her footing, pain shot up her ankle, and she fell off the sidewalk to land hard on her side. The cart whizzed by, continuing its way down the street until she heard it crash at the bottom. Pushing herself up, she saw people staring at her, as well as the destroyed cart, strangely. A hand reached down to help her stand, and when she glanced up, she locked gazes with Eugene Behr.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wincing slightly as she applied weight onto her ankle.

“My, my,” he drawled. “Accidents do seem to plague you.”

She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “Have you been following me?”

He smiled, but she felt almost violated from the slimy expression. His eyes flickered to the broken cart at the bottom of the hill, and coldness spread through her. She hobbled away from him, back onto the sidewalk.

“You sent that cart after me,” she accused. “Did you send those thugs after Jason? What are you trying to do?”

“Men like Jason Braddock and Eli Masters will soon be obsolete,” he said with a snarl. “And whores will just burn from existence.”