Bed and Breakfast [Bloodkin 1] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) (2 page)

Moss had met one of the strangers once. Foolishly, he’d followed a friend into one of the newly acquired homes. What he’d seen there had both shocked and frightened him. Orgies of men and women together, whips falling over flesh, blood splattering all over the place. Moss had fled, but the memories still haunted him.

He’d have told his family to leave the town at once, but they didn’t have any place to go, and somehow, Moss knew the strangers would find them. Besides, these days, every town had its own batch of seducers hanging around. They’d even reached the distant cities beyond the Great Waters.

His mother stepped inside the room, her eyes red. Moss guessed she must have taken a few moments to compose herself. Moss wanted to reassure her, but unlike his siblings, she would not believe him.

Her eyes filled with tears once again when she saw him, but she hastily wiped them away. “Come,” she said to Jo and Lam, “let’s have some pie.”

The children perked up at the mentioning of the delicious treat. But as they followed behind Olivia, Lam hesitated. “Isn’t Moss coming?”

“Of course he is,” Olivia answered. “He just needs a word with Papa. Now be obedient and come along.”

This time, the children did leave the room, and Moss couldn’t suppress a small sigh of relief. At least without them around, he could afford to show his pain at leaving his home behind.

His father pulled him to the very edge of the room, next to an old desk. He ushered Moss to the couch. “Sit.”

Moss obeyed. As he sat down, his father rummaged through the desk drawers. He retrieved a piece of paper, ink, and a quill and he began to write. Moss waited in silence, knowing the missive would be very important. He wondered what his father said about him.

At last, Duncan put the quill back in the inkwell and blew on the paper. “I suppose you realize what this is.” Moss nodded, but his father explained anyway. “I’ve explained our circumstances to Douglas and asked him to take you under his wing. I did mention your abilities with bookkeeping, but I doubt that will convince him. Nevertheless, you will have a place to eat and sleep with no problem.” Duncan rolled the paper, bound it, and offered it to Moss.

“Thank you, Father,” Moss said as he received the item sealing his fate.

Duncan didn’t reply. Instead, he opened another drawer, one Moss hadn’t originally seen. To Moss’s surprise, his father took out a pouch and offered it to him. “These are the last of our savings. I wish I could give you more, but you know how the situation is.”

In a daze, Moss took the pouch. It felt heavy in his hand, and Moss couldn’t help but open it. He gaped as he took in its contents. It was too much. His family would eat for two weeks out of the money. “Father, I—”

Duncan lifted a hand and stopped him. “You will need it. The ship fare is expensive enough, but the trip to the harbor even more so.” He frowned as if something particularly disturbing passed through his mind.

“You be careful, boy. Sleep in inns, but don’t talk to anyone suspicious. Avoid them.”

This time, Moss couldn’t hold his tears back. As his father held him, he let go, unleashing all the sorrow he’d kept in check. Would he ever see his family again?

* * * *

A few weeks later

The harbor bustled with activity, dirty sailors cramming supplies onto various ships, shouting imprecations at each other. Farther away, gentlemen helped their ladies on passenger boats.

Moss scanned the busy crowd, trying to figure out which way to go. According to the directions he’d been given, the ship he was supposed to board should be someplace around here.

With luck and some help from the Sky Lord, he’d managed to reach the harbor city of Clavar, following his father’s advice to the letter. Duncan’s purse was beginning to get a little light, though, so Moss had to hurry before he ran out of money. Thankfully, he’d heard about a ship that would get him to the other side of the Great Waters. Now, if only he could find it.

Moss spotted a sailor taking a break. He seemed a bit more educated and calm than the other ones, and Moss surmised asking him would be his best bet to find the ship. “Excuse me,” he began, “could you help me find a ship called
The Lagoon
?”

At first, the sailor ignored him, but Moss didn’t give up. After repeating the same question for a few times, Moss got the man’s attention. “I can make it worth your while.”

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a coin.

“
The Lagoon
is that way,” the sailor said as he snatched the gold from Moss’s hand. He pointed to a small ship lost between two mammoth vessels. Its sails were green, but Moss would have never seen it if not for the sailor’s help.

“Thank you,” he told the man.

The sailor returned to ignoring him and Moss shrugged to himself. He’d found out what he needed.

As he headed in the indicated direction, a small boy ran into him. “Apologies, my lord,” the boy said.

With a small nod, the boy took off running. A shiver of fear passed through Moss at the lad’s haste. Sure, the boy could have been just a servant running an errand for his master, but Moss doubted it. He checked the pocket of his coat. Gone. The purse of coin was gone.

“Hey, come back,” he shouted after the boy. He rushed to follow, but navigating through the crowd made it very difficult for him to do so. “Stop!” he shouted again. “Thief!”

Unsurprisingly, the little bandit ignored him, and so did everyone else around him. A greenhorn having his purse lifted didn’t impress or surprise anyone. He did receive a few amused glances and some irritated curse words when he accidentally ran into people, but other than that, no one paid him any heed.

In spite of his effort, Moss soon lost sight of the thief in the crowd. Panting hard, helpless, Moss leaned against a wall and screamed. He couldn’t even hear his own shout with the noise around him. Perhaps it signaled the way Moss’s life would end up from now on, lost among people who didn’t care.

Moss studied the innocuous piece of green paper in his hands.
Wanted: Bed and Breakfast. Generous pay. Previous experience constitutes an advantage. Position open to men and women between the ages of 20-30. For more details, visit
The Inn of the Dancing Sword.

He looked up to the sign hanging from the door in front of him. A moving wooden plate, depicting a sharp blade, shone in the moonlight. He sighed. He didn’t know if the position he read about even existed, or if it wasn’t some sort of dubious offer for prostitutes. The generous pay part seemed to hint at it, but Moss couldn’t help but wonder what kind of brothel would hire people up to the age of thirty. Usually, brothels hired youths, teenagers, and even children whom they educated into the “art of lovemaking.”

Ever since the fateful encounter with the thief, Moss had received numerous offers from such establishments, but he refused to sell his ass, his mouth, or his dick to survive.

Alas, people weren’t inclined to offer decent work to a young man like himself. Well, he wasn’t quite so young. He’d reached twenty summers just a few weeks back. He probably looked five years younger, and it didn’t help his constitution seemed frail and not built for withstanding harsh conditions.

He’d managed to get by through daily jobs in the harbor. But the money he earned barely covered his expenses, and he needed a real workplace if he wanted to find a way out of this city and onto the next departing ship. Hopefully, he still had a future waiting for him with his uncle.

This job offer had fallen in his hands completely by chance. He’d spotted the paper while on one of his errands and taken it, hoping it would help him find better employment. Now that he’d gotten here, he couldn’t go back.

With that in mind, he stepped through the door of the inn. If this job was genuine, maybe the promised pay would give him something to start on.

The Inn of the Dancing Sword seemed nothing like the establishments Moss lived in while here in Clavar. In fact, the word “inn” couldn’t even begin to describe it. It looked quite luxurious, more like one of the lounges he used to frequent before the strangers took over. Moss wished he’d have come better dressed, but he’d sold his most expensive possessions to gather enough money for a little excuse of a room. Taking a deep breath, Moss walked inside and headed directly toward the bar.

Every eye seemed to be on him, but Moss kept his gaze forward and ignored everything else. Once he reached his destination, he sat on a stool. A woman appeared to take his order. “What will it be?” she asked.

Moss retrieved the piece of paper and set it on the counter. “Actually, I came to ask about this.”

The woman gave him a critical look. “I’ll get the innkeeper,” she said, although she seemed doubtful. Moss looked dirty and grimy after a hard day’s work, so he didn’t blame her.

When the innkeeper appeared, he analyzed Moss from head to toe. “You sure you up to that sort of thing, boy?”

Moss nodded. He needed to try, at least. “Very well,” the innkeeper said. “Go and ask at the mansion on the hill. They’ll tell you more there.”

* * * *

Moss gaped at the huge house that loomed ahead. The innkeeper had given him directions toward where he needed to go to, but Moss hadn’t expected something like this. It almost looked like a prince’s castle, something along the line of the beautiful citadels he read about in books as a child. Moss felt drawn to the building like a moth to the flame. Something about it seemed magical.

At the same time, Moss couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. He told himself it was just the late hour making him jumpy. Then again, why would someone take job applications late in the evening? The innkeeper at The Dancing Sword instructed Moss to come at night. It was a weird demand, but hey, he couldn’t afford to ask questions or be picky. Now, he wished he had asked.

Swallowing nervously, he walked through the huge wrought-iron gates. He guessed they had been left open for possible applicants. The path toward the black doors ahead seemed endless, and more than once, Moss turned to go back, only to change his mind and continue walking toward the mansion. He needed to go there, to see this through. Even if he didn’t get the job, he would still get to see the house, maybe steal a peak in one of the palaces of his dreams.

Strangely enough, Moss didn’t see any guards or servants as he approached. In fact, he didn’t see anyone at all. Light flowed from the windows and he could vaguely distinguish shadows of people moving around the rooms. He bit his lips, half-relieved he wouldn’t be alone in the majestic, yet eerie mansion, half-frustrated at the knowledge he would be facing a lot of competitors for the position.

In the end, the frustration gave him the strength to cover the distance between him and the silent, black doors faster. He could do this, damn it. He didn’t have anything to lose. At most, they could reject his application. But now that he’d seen the house, Moss intended to fight tooth and nail to convince the employer to accept him.

The large doors were even more intimidating up close than when he’d seen them from the distance. Berating himself for his cowardice, Moss took hold of the gold knocker and used it to hit the door with more force than necessary. He winced as the rough sound echoed through the silent courtyard.
Calm down, Moss! First impressions are important. Calm down!

Moss heard footsteps approach in the house. The person on the other side cracked the door open and Moss focused to appear calm, collected, and as professional as possible. He’d cleaned up and donned his best—and only remaining suit—for this purpose. He needed to follow up with the same attitude.

After what seemed like an eternity, an elderly gentleman appeared in the entrance, giving him an inquisitive and slightly annoyed look. Moss suppressed the urge to wipe his sweaty palms against his trousers and offered the man a tremulous smile. “Hello. My name is Marlais Hayden. I’m here for the free position?”

He hated the fact that he sounded hesitant and almost childish, but he couldn’t help it. Luckily, the man didn’t question him further. Instead, he chose to analyze Moss with piercing blue eyes that seemed clearer and more astute than an old man should have. Moss struggled not to squirm in front of the sharp gaze and felt amazingly thankful when the man completed his analysis. Moss must’ve passed the examination, as the elderly gentleman gestured him inside. “Right this way, if you please.”

Moss followed behind the strange old man, almost jumping when the door snapped shut with a loud noise behind them. He shook his head, fighting to calm his racing heart. What was it about this place that made him so nervous? It was only a house, a huge one, a majestic one, but just a house nevertheless.

Finding comfort in reason, Moss took a closer look around as he walked behind the elderly gentleman. His eyes widened at the sight of antique tables and wardrobes, lavish armchairs decorated with covers that seemed to be woven from golden and silver thread, jeweled candelabras, and expensive rugs. He almost gasped at the sight of the paintings on the walls, erotic images in various shades of red depicting handsome young men and women kissing or…doing other things. He then realized the black marble floors he tread upon bore engravings in certain spots with similar images. God! This really was a brothel. He had to find a way to get out, and fast.