An Unnatural Vice (Sins of the Cities) by KJ Charles

Author:KJ Charles [Charles, KJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2017-06-05T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Nathaniel woke the next morning from dreams that he was, frankly, ashamed to have had. He’d lain awake too long the previous night, painfully aware of his guest in the next room, and when he did sleep his rest had been disturbed by visions of Lazarus stepping silently into his room, crawling into his bed. That was a disgraceful way to think of a man under his protection, even if he hadn’t meant it.

Under his protection. It was an absurd thought. Lazarus was self-reliant to a fault, Nathaniel had no duty to him, and it gave him cold sweats to think what a fool he might make of himself by championing a professional liar. And yet Lazarus had come to him; he’d been in danger, afraid, and it was Nathaniel to whom he’d fled.

He’s magging you, Mark would no doubt say. It’s a confidence lay. What’s he after?

Nathaniel knew he should wonder if he was being fooled in some way. Lazarus’s arrival had not seemed like a performance, but he’d acted terror and pain before. He could be lying. Nathaniel didn’t think he was, but he’d been wrong about a great deal with him so far, and he knew why.

He wanted him. He wanted Lazarus’s sinewy body, those otherworldly eyes; he wanted to touch and bite and suck; he wanted to hear Lazarus moan and beg unguarded, and strip away his lies and defences along with his clothing. He wanted Lazarus, and—the true danger here—he wanted to believe Lazarus was worth wanting.

Nathaniel had to keep a very close eye on whatever foolish misplaced chivalry was urging him to offer the man all the safety and shelter he could.

“Good morning,” Lazarus remarked as Nathaniel came in. The medium looked tired as he drank tea by the fireside, but at least he was dressed in his own clothes, which had been efficiently pressed and brushed. Nathaniel made a mental note to reward Betsy accordingly.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“As well as might be expected, thank you. The sun’s still dead.”

Nathaniel looked at the wall of murk outside the window. “Good God. It’s not been this bad in years.”

“There’s a lot of that about.” Lazarus poured a second cup of tea, added half a teaspoon of sugar and no milk, and came over to hand it to Nathaniel. He stared at it. “Problem?”

“How the devil do you know how I take my tea?”

“You made it like that yesterday.”

“And you noticed?”

“I usually do,” Lazarus said. “Thank you for your hospitality. I think we should talk about its price.”

Evidently his defences were back in place. “You misunderstand the nature of hospitality,” Nathaniel said. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I think that you should, because the sooner we untangle this business, the better for you, for Clem, and for justice—”

“You believe in justice?”

“I was a lawyer once.”

Lazarus’s lips twitched. “Yes, that’s why I asked.”

“Go to the devil. Listen to me a moment. I think I should send you out of London.”

Lazarus blinked. “I beg your

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