Page 9 of Traveling with Gentlemen (Tempting Monsters #1.1)

DECADENT PARTIES AND ILLICIT BARGAINS

I glared into the mirror as I painted the rouge on my lips, willing the train to remain steady and cursing softly when it refused.

"You don't usually fuss like this," Ezra said, the deep dent in the mattress behind me the only sign of him in the narrow bedroom compartment.

"I'm usually aware that the company I keep could care less about my appearance," I said, reaching one hand up to tilt the light in my direction, the other still dabbing color onto my lips.

"Why should that be less true tonight?" Ezra asked. "You think Amon or Auguste or the others give two figs what you wear to this party they don't even want to attend?"

I let out a puff of breath, setting the makeup aside and stepping back to examine myself in the trembling mirror. I reached into the low collar of my dress, plumping my breasts up. We were nearly to Jerusalem, and there would be a carriage waiting to take us directly to the countess's home.

"This isn't for any of you. It's for her ," I explained.

Ezra laughed. "Auguste tells you about an insane vampiress and you decide you'd like to add her to the family?"

A sharp knock landed on the door and Booker let himself into the room. "We're ready."

"I don't want her to admire me, I want her to…to understand why…"

"Why Amon chose you, not her," Ezra said, the teasing lilt softening into understanding.

"This is armor," I said, gesturing to my dress and face.

Ezra and Booker studied me greedily. I'd chosen one of the gowns Auguste had bought for me in London.

The collar was too low, the drape of the skirt too tight, the sleeves brief and sheer, and the color a rich and dark purple, the shade of pomegranate juice in crystal.

It was a scandalous dress for what I was warned would be a scandalous party.

It left me vulnerable and powerful all at once, but I knew I was in no danger. Not in the company I kept.

"You don't have to justify our passion for you with a dress, puisín ," Ezra murmured, his smirk gentle.

I waved a hand. "It isn't that. Not exactly.

Beauty is often a woman's currency. I have no doubt she will display hers.

And I will display mine too. And if that distracts her from the rest of me, if she thinks I am a pretty trinket at first, then she will underestimate me to my advantage.

And if instead she sees the power I possess immediately, then that's good too," I said.

Ezra helped himself to another long look at me. "Makes me dizzy to try and sort out," he admitted. " You make me dizzy too."

I grinned as Booker grunted in agreement. "Come and help me with the finishing touches."

Ezra and Booker both stood obediently, crossing the small space the compartment afforded. Ezra's eyebrows waggled.

"Well, what pinching and painting is left to do?" he asked.

"Muss me," I said, smiling.

"Muss you?" Ezra repeated, but Booker needed no explanation.

One strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to my toes, my breasts pressing hard against the starched collar of the dress.

I hummed as Booker's mouth slanted over mine, eagerly smearing the lipstick I had so meticulously painted on.

Ezra laughed and then a calloused hand was in my hair, his beard scratching against my exposed shoulder, teeth scraping and lips sucking.

When Auguste cleared his throat in the open doorway, separating the three of us, my dress was askew, a few of my curls had fallen loose, and Booker was sporting more of the rouge than I was.

Ezra laughed as he looked at me. "Pretty trinket, indeed."

"You'll travel on to Beirut without us if you don't come now," Auguste said, eyes sparkling as Ezra and Booker stepped aside to reveal me. He sighed and shook his head. "Far too tempting. I'd put you in a potato sack, but it wouldn't make a difference. Come, mon coeur ."

I nipped Auguste's throat for the compliment, and his hand around mine was tense and tight.

"I can't decide if she'll covet you for herself, or despise you when the rest of the party does as well," Auguste breathed as we hurried down the train hall.

Amon waited with Jonathon at the exit of the train car, the latter dressed in a suit far too large for him so Mr. Tanner might fit when he transformed.

"She sent her men," Amon murmured as we reached him, his eyes searching the dim shadows of the station. "There's no escape for us now."

"Grim words before a party, mate," Ezra teased, clapping Amon on the shoulder and sliding between us, jogging lightly down the steps. "Come on, I don't intend to miss a free dinner."

"Ever our thief," Auguste sighed, and together we descended into the cool night.

* * *

I caught my breath, staring up at the stunning, broad home, pale limestone painted gold by lit torches.

"This is her home?" I asked as we walked up the long steps together. It'd been months now, but I was still wrapping my mind around being the guest or even the resident of such enormous palaces. I couldn't even imagine being the staff of such a place.

"Not hers," Auguste whispered. "Not really. She puts wealthy men in trances, bleeds them and their wealth dry, and then moves on."

"She's only been in Jerusalem for a decade or so. She'll leave again in another," Amon said.

"She sounds like a parasite," Mr. Tanner said, his low words as soft and craggy as the stone that built the city. We were on the outskirts, the neighborhood outside of this estate quiet in the late hour.

"The wealthy and powerful usually are," Ezra muttered, pausing before adding, "No offense to you lot."

I snorted and Amon's lips pursed but he didn't argue, simply squeezing my hand where it rested in his elbow.

We were nearly to the top of the stairs and the building in front of us was quiet as a grave, the lit torches and glowing windows the only sign of life.

I was about to ask if we were meant to be the only guests at the party, when the heavy front doors swung open.

Music, laughter, chaos, and magic poured out of those doors in a flurry of sound and sudden activity, and I nearly fell back a step, if not for Mr. Tanner's heavy hand at my back.

Because of course nothing in the world of monsters was as it appeared, and this palace was not still and quiet; it was enchanted for privacy.

As a beautiful, naked woman raced past the open door inside, chased by a transformed werewolf, I understood the need.

"Ah. So it's that kind of party," Ezra chuckled.

"Sofia's usually are," Auguste whispered. He and Amon framed me, the others guarding our backs.

"It doesn't matter how much danger we warned you of, you still look excited," Amon said, and I tore my eyes from the open doors and the swirling activity of bodies—dressed, undressed, and everything in between—inside.

"I can't help it," I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly.

"Have you been bored at home?" he asked, brows arching.

I bumped his hip with mine softly and his lips twitched. "Only when you are away," I said coyly.

Amon chuckled, and I considered the evening already won because his shoulders were relaxing as he stepped to the door, greeted by two pale guards, identical and imposing.

"Sphinx," they said in unison, offering a bow before stepping aside.

Amon's chin was high, his eyes narrowed at the pair as he watched their deference. I'd once considered him too haughty, and had since learned all his softness and generosity, the openness he shared when he was comfortable in our family. This dignity was his armor, and it was beautiful.

As we stepped inside together, into the incredibly lush, decadent, erotic house, I forgot that I was here with my gentlemen to do battle.

I forgot that Auguste feared the woman we were here to see and Amon disliked her, and for a moment I adored her.

It was like being back at Rooksgrave before the fire, in the evenings when everyone gathered and celebrated together, except here it was immediately apparent that the women—monstrous and beautiful in equal measure—were as active and aggressive and powerful as the men.

In the enormous entrance room to my right, a group of feathered beauties giggled together on a low, round couch, watching oiled and deliciously formed men with wings wrestle on a mat before them.

A regal being of indeterminate gender with golden horns and black eyes played a wayward tune on something like a violin, body bared in only jewels, one hoofed leg propped up on a stool as a supplicant feasted between their legs.

In front of us, through archways that opened on a broad, tiled garden, a massive minotaur was chained to a platform as a delicate young woman rode his cock like she was in a race.

And then I realized there was another platform just beyond and she was in a race.

I rose up on my toes, wondering whose finish was the goal.

"Amon! Darling, you did come!"

I stiffened at the cooing, thickly accented, richly feminine voice.

In my excitement at the diversions of the party, I'd forgotten my goal.

I'd forgotten that I wanted to be the ravishing and ravished beauty who'd captured the heart of the men around me, and I knew immediately that I looked more like the shocked and curious human woman who'd delightfully landed herself in the land of monsters.

Both were true, but I hadn't meant to let my guard down in front of her .

I lowered to my heels and Auguste's hand was tense and tight around mine as we turned to the dark hall on the left, from which Sofia de Vologda had emerged.