The Lightning-Struck Heart (33 page)

“Moishe,” I said in greeting. “You’re looking lovely as always.”

He cocked his head at me, lips in a thin line, bloodless and almost clear. “Flattery gets you everywhere with me, Sam of Wilds. You know that. I have a room set aside. Should I have it opened up? I suppose I could entertain the idea of a third if you insist.” He glanced back at Ryan again, then back to me. “But I’d really rather it be you alone. Did you know that magic has a taste? Like lightning. Like burning. I’m sure I could find that tang on your skin.”

Ryan’s grip on my arm tightened exponentially. I tried to tug it loose, but his fingers bit into my skin. Moishe, of course, missed none of it. “Does the Knight Commander need a boy?” he asked. “I understand how… frustrating it must be, being betrothed to a prince. Personal experience, you could say.” His eyes went back to me. “Never able to just…
take
what it is you want.”

“Nobody is taking anything,” Ryan growled, and if
that
didn’t make my heart stutter, I don’t know what did. Too bad it was misplaced. I was no more in danger here than I would be back home in the castle. Moishe would never hurt me. And even if he wanted to, Mama wouldn’t allow it. Ryan just didn’t know how these things worked.

I said, “You know how it is for me, Moishe.”

His lip curled. “Yes.
Love
. What a petty emotion.”

“But lust isn’t?”

He showed his teeth. “Lust is in us all. You don’t need love to have it.”

Old games, this. I had a fleeting thought of introducing him to Dimitri. That was a scary thought. “I need to see Mama.”

He was looking back at Ryan, annoyance splayed clearly on his face. “She’s busy.”

“Moishe.”

“Your little Prince was taken by a dragon,” he said to Ryan. “Pity. He was quite exquisite. There was a certain taciturnity about him that I couldn’t but help admire.” Then his voice changed, just the slightest bit, from cold to frost. “You should let go of Sam now. Before there’s a problem.”

“
Moishe
.”

They both ignored me.

“You already have a problem,” Ryan said hotly. “You’re not gonna touch him.”

Moishe smiled. “Maybe not today. But soon. I wasn’t kidding when I said magic had a taste. I want his storm on my tongue.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I said.

“Sam, we’re leaving,” Ryan said, trying to pull me back toward the door.

“Knock it off,” I snapped at him, jerking my arm away. “This isn’t anything I’m not used to. If something is pissing you off, then go wait outside.” He flinched as I turned back to Moishe. “And
you
. Take us up to Mama or I’ll go myself. I don’t have time for your shit today, Moishe. Either move or get the fuck out of my way.”

He watched me with those cool eyes. His lips twitched once, like he thought I was precious, and he nodded. “But of course, Sam. I’m sure Mama is no longer busy now. You’re different than you were before. Harder.” His gaze crawled down my body, then back up. “In so many, many different ways.”

And then he turned toward the staircase and walked away.

“Fucking Moishe,” I muttered, knowing he could hear me. I looked back at Ryan. “You coming?”

He scowled at me. “I’m not leaving you alone in here.”

“For the love of—Look. Just remember what I said about Mama. You can’t lash out, Ryan. It’s not how things are done here. She will just as soon kill you as look at you.”

“I wonder sometimes about the company you keep,” he said.

I looked at him and wondered that too. Maybe I was a masochist. That certainly would explain a lot. “I have my reasons. Do we have an understanding?”

He grumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t quite understand. I chose to believe it was enthusiastic consent for everything I’d told him. It would have to be good enough. I was in Mama’s good graces, but that would only get me so far.

I felt the eyes of the boys and men track us as we walked across the room toward the staircase. The air smelled of flowers and sweat and sex. It was a heady scent, pungent enough to get slightly drunk off of if you breathed it in too much. Mama said it was all the pheromones that the flowers and humans released. I thought it was more than that, that she’d had the drug lord Letnia engineer a concoction that circulated the room via the ceiling fans that spun lazily above, lowering inhibitions, raising the heat. She’d smiled her enigmatic Mama smile when I’d told her as much, calling me a silly boy, planting a sticky kiss on my cheek.

Ryan crowded me closely from behind, and for all my annoyance at his intimations that I couldn’t handle myself, that I was a young, foolish boy with no experience to how the world worked, I found his insistence at protecting me from perceived threats oddly endearing. Part of me wanted to snap my teeth at him, to remind him that I’d survived twenty years without him. That I could handle myself. And I thought he knew that. I thought he knew I was more than capable of dealing with any threats against my person, but for some reason, he still felt the need to attempt to defend me from the big, wide world.

It would be comforting, if I allowed it.

But I couldn’t. I wasn’t supposed to feel safe with him. Not like that.

We followed Moishe up the stairs, all eyes in the room on us as we ascended. I ignored them. Ryan growled at them. Whatever.

We were led down a long hallway, and the sounds of sex and fucking echoed around us behind closed doors. Someone asked if Daddy liked that. Another begged in a broken voice. Still another just groaned. I had learned to disregard the sounds of the brothel, but Ryan’s eyes were wide and he reached out and grabbed my arm again, fingers biting into my skin. I thought to pull myself away again but didn’t.

A large ornate door stood at the end of the hallway.
MAMA
was burned into the wood, surrounded by carved leaves and trees made to look like dicks. She loved nature and cock, she’d told me once, so why not combine the two? I had had no argument to the contrary over such a thing. I rarely did with Mama.

Moishe knocked twice, waited a beat, then opened the door.

The office was circular, the walls covered in paintings of her favorite courtesans, all in various risqué positions, some more obscene than others. There was a large bookshelf on one side filled with everything from ancient philosophy to hardcore porn. Mama was brilliant and ruthless, but she was also smutty and knew more about the world than almost anyone else I knew. She had spent her younger years traveling across Verania and beyond its borders. She’d told me many stories of the lands to the east, where people spoke in a language that sounded like dogs barking. Once, she’d gotten lost there and somehow ended up in a three-way with two men who had ten-inch dicks while a volcano rumbled threateningly in the background. She’d said they couldn’t understand each other at all, but one didn’t need to understand when one could allow the body to do the talking.

Sometimes, I think Mama is full of shit.

But I wouldn’t put it past her to have been spit-roasted with lava nearby. She’s just that type of person.

And here she was, sitting behind her massive desk, regal and proud and intimidating as all fuck. Well, to most people, I guess. Not to me. Mostly.

She wore a blonde wig, cut short and severe around her face. The pale skin of her face was immaculately covered with makeup, the rouge dark on her cheeks, her eyes smoky, lips red and shiny. A tight black corset pushed up her chest, the illusion of breasts so well done that it was impossible to see that they were fake. I never asked her how she did it, how she made everything look so real, because she’d told me that a lady, like a wizard, never revealed her secrets. I never asked her for her real name and she never told me. She would always be Mama until she said otherwise.

And she towered over most men. She called herself the tallest woman in captivity. I’d told her she seemed freer than anyone else I’d ever known. She’d been sad then, for a moment. But like most real emotions from her, it passed in an instant, replaced by a salacious smile, a bawdy innuendo.

She was large, callous, loudmouthed, and brash—and absolutely wonderful.

Moishe stood by the door as I walked past him. Ryan dropped his grip from my arm. My fairy drag mother pressed a long fingernail to her lip, the skin dimpling as her gaze locked onto me.

“Sam,” she purred, voice deep and strong. “What a pleasant surprise this is.”

“Mama,” I said in greeting. I walked around the desk and took her hand in mine, kissing the back of it. “You’re looking beautiful as always.”

She chuckled. “Don’t I? I woke up this morning and thought to myself how wonderful it is that I am able to grace others with my presence.”

I kissed her hand again before letting it go. “Humble, that.”

“I have no use for humble,” she said. “Humble means weakness.”

“I’m humble,” I told her. “I’m not weak.”

“You’re not humble,” she said. “Your magic won’t allow you to be.”

Oh how she and I danced. “Or maybe it affords me modesty.” I moved back around the desk. Ryan looked between the two of us, eyes narrowed.

“You think so?” she asked. “How positively illuminating. In my experience, most wizards don’t even know the meaning of modesty.”

“I’m not most wizards.”

“Oh, how I have missed you,” Mama said, clapping her hands together. “It’s been far too long, precious. I don’t like it when you’re gone from me for too long. Tell me. Are the rumors true?”

I almost didn’t want to ask, but Mama expected me to. She would have her say with or without me prompting her. “And what rumors would those be?”

She glanced over at Ryan, the first time she’d acknowledged him since we’d come in the room, and I
knew
. She could play coy, but Mama had never met subtlety. They weren’t even passing acquaintances. I didn’t think you could be subtle
and
be a drag queen. It just wasn’t possible. “A knight, then?” she asked innocently, though her eyes gave her away.

“Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Betrothed to Prince Justin. The future King Consort.”

“Sir,” he said. Then he coughed. Choked, maybe. “Er. Ma’am. Lady Mama. Your Majesty.”

“Oh my gods,” I groaned.

Mama’s grin was full of teeth. “Your Majesty? I could get used to that.” She held up her hand toward Ryan. He stared at it awkwardly until I kicked him in the shin. He took a step forward and grabbed the proffered hand, kissing it swiftly before backing away, standing so close our arms brushed together.

“Thank you for having me to your whorehouse.” He winced. “I mean your home. Where people pay to have sex.”

“Is he broken?” Mama asked me, looking coolly amused.

I frowned at Ryan. “I haven’t quite figured that out.”

“I’ve never been to a brothel,” Ryan said quickly. “Or met a… lady. Of your caliber.”

“You mean with a cock?” Mama asked.

Ryan coughed again. Definitely some choking involved. “Yes? Yes. There’s that part too. I’ve heard of you… people.”

Oh gods. Mama cocked her head at him. To most, it wouldn’t have seemed like anything. But for those that knew her, Mama was coiling to strike. “What do you mean by
you people
?” she asked.

I had to stop the bloodshed before it could start. “He means—”

“Pimps,” Ryan said. “Is that what you’re called? Pimps? Brothel owner? Whoremaster? Queen of the Fuck Palace?”

“Queen of the Fuck Palace?” I repeated. “Seriously?
Seriously
?” Granted, he didn’t say something derogatory against drag queens, which I was thankful for, but I couldn’t tell if this was worse. If she was insulted, Mama would most likely cut off his dick and nail it to the wall.

“Moishe,” Mama said.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Please let it be known that from this day forward, my working title for the business is now Queen of the Fuck Palace.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“You may leave.”

Moishe closed the door behind him, but not before he stared at my crotch with his cold eyes.

“I like him,” Mama told me, waving dismissively at Ryan.

“What?
Why
? You don’t like anyone!”

“Uh, hi,” Ryan said. “Standing right here.”

“I like
you
,” she said to me.

“Well, yes,” I said. “But I like to think I am a special case.”

“You
are
a special case,” she said sweetly.

“You just insulted me, didn’t you?”

“I would never do such a thing,” she said, folding her hands in front of her.

“But
Ryan
?” I said. “You hate the knights. And the government. And the King! You called them capitalist scum who harbor resentments against the proletariats even though they rely on them for industry.”

“Still standing right here,” Ryan said. “And I don’t know what proletariats are. But I feel like someone is insulting me. Somehow.”

Mama rolled her eyes. “I’m allowed to change my mind about people, Sam.”

“You just think he’s hot,” I accused her, as if this was not a common consensus by everyone currently in the room.

“Yeah,” Mama said. “He is. Like fire. I want him to burn me. All over my face.”

“Feeling a little objectified now,” Ryan said.

I scowled at Mama. “That’s not gonna happen. You keep your perfectly beautiful grubby fingers off of him.”

“Hmmm,” Mama said.

“Hmmm? That’s all you got?
Hmmm
?”

“Just realizing something,” she said. “Have you had many of those lately, Sam? Realizations?”

“I’m realizing a few things right now,” I told her. “And several of them involve you. Spoiler. It doesn’t end well.”

“And how are you?” Mama asked Ryan.

“Fine,” he said, though he didn’t sound fine at all.

“Long trip?”

“Not too bad.”

“Traveled through the Dark Woods, did you?”

“For the last few days.”

“Have you ever had sex for money?”

“Not in a long time,” Ryan said. “I don’t do that anymore.” He blanched. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. How the hell…?”