Blood Brothel by Liza Street

Blood Brothel by Liza Street

Author:Liza Street [Street, Liza]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liza Street


As I ride east into town, the sun’s directly in my face. Folks are starting to move about their morning business in the sort of lethargic, depressed way I’ve come to associate with this Rift-cursed city. A wagon, filled past the rails with hay, pitches one side to the other over the pitted street. The driver, bored-looking and bleary-eyed, appears only half-aware of the world around her, and the two horses that pull her wagon look so apathetic it’s a wonder they bother stepping forward at all.

I must be tired, too, because as the wagon moves along on the other side of the road, I catch a glimpse of gray, leathery skin and silver eyes, and the lanky body of Naivuk Kolu.

My breath catches in my throat and I’m transported back to that flaming saloon, facing off with a demon who I couldn’t hardly see because of Wynne’s curse, robbing me of light and sight.

But when I blink, he’s gone. There ain’t anyone in his place that I can see.

It’s the second time I’ve imagined Naivuk Kolu here in Saintsville. He’s dead—I know he’s dead. Not even a demon can come back from what we did to him. Not from magic, not from necromancy, not from a Rift-cursed version of a miracle. My tired brain is playin’ tricks, that’s all it is. Find Noel, I think. Get this task done, appease the fae, and then my posse and I can hightail it out of this place.

When I return to the boarding house, the men are standing aimlessly on the narrow porch. I bring Kitty to a halt in the street in front of them.

“Visiting your uncle?” Carson asks.

“My cousin, actually.”

The bloody dreadful is in my coat pocket. I could show it to them now, get everything out in the open. But their focus is already scattered. Layne’s skin has a pale, greenish tinge to it. Someone’s liquor didn’t sit well overnight. When he sees me looking at him, he gives me a sheepish smile. Carson don’t look hungover, although I suspect he out-drank Layne last night. Still, he and Boone both look like they ain’t slept at all.

“Something came for you about an hour ago,” Boone says, holding out an envelope.

The thick cream parchment is familiar. I break the seal, dread pooling in my chest like murky pond water. The script inside is familiar, too.

Miss Boswell,

While I did not expect immediate satisfaction as to your inquiries into my brother’s location, I had not anticipated you taking this long. I had higher expectations as to your posse’s competence. Surely the threat of the dark curse should be enough motivation?

Yours, etc.,

Wynne

P.S. I hear you have kin in town. It would be a shame if anything untoward were to happen to either your uncle or your cousin.



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