Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't happen.
The Story:
Davey woke with a start, half-expecting to see the lush, velvety curtains and the rich, expensive bedding. But when he blinked rapidly, the vision vanished with his sleep.
He looked around his small hut, seeing only his cot and what meager, pitiable possessions he had. He pushed back his hair behind his ears and gave a long, loud sigh. �Oh, lords,� he said to no one in particular. He stopped, hearing himself, then blushed hotly. It sounded too close to. . . no, just no. he wouldn�t think about that. Today was different. Today, he didn�t have to cook any meals in the kitchen since his Lord and Lady were scheduled to be out looking for entertainment for their Summer Ball. They would visit the Lady�s distant cousins and spend a night there.
This relieved Davey, surprisingly. True, he was sorely missing the gentle, loving presence of Lord Hunter, but he feared the look in Lady Armenia�s eyes even more. She was a dangerous person to cross, he knew. Too bad it was too late to go back and change things.
Davey stopped pushing his hair back with his hands. He blinked. Did he really want to go back and change things? Was that what he really wanted? To go back and change things? Davey looked around again, to make sure he was still alone, then gave himself a good smack on the cheek.
No good to second-guess yourself now, he said to himself, you can�t go back and change anything. You can only go forward, and live with your mistakes, or be taken over by them. And Davey wasn�t one to be overtaken by his.
He stood and stretched with none of the satisfaction he had been hoping for. Instead, he felt worn, used even before the day started. This was discomforting. Usually he was energetic and in the kitchen, bustling with activity. He did not once think that this lack of feeling came from his solitary letdown.
What to do on a cook�s day off? Everyday he spent in the kitchen, cooking up one storm after another. Sometimes he had his friends come visit him, sometimes he took a walk between mealtimes. He measured himself on these breaks. He could walk as far as the horses� watering trough out back, then he�d have to walk quickly back in order to make it to his kitchen on time for the next course. Sometimes, he would make it all the way to the stables, happily giving himself the exercise of a fast trot.
But on his days off, when the royal family planned otherwise for the day, he was not so limited to his kitchen. Nor his hut, he realized. Quickly, he changed and headed out, making sure to set his lock and tuck the key into his shirt. Although there was a very low crime-rate in the kingdom, Davey knew that wasn�t going to stop people from being nosey. He didn�t have much to hide but disliked knowing someone had pawed through his possessions. They were HIS things. Only HE should be allowed to go through them.
The reactions he got that morning, Davey should have realized, were an omen for what was to happen later that day. And it wouldn�t be a good one.
Davey�s neighbors were an old couple to the right, a young couple with a bratty brood of nine-soon-to-be-ten straight across, and to the left several huts of unwed, but still destined to be, servants and workers. He was the oldest of them who was still living in a hut, single. Usually, he said good morning to the old couple, helped gather a few of the kids back to the tired, distressed young mother, than hurried away before the little beasts could gang up on him. But today was different.
He turned to the right and saw the old man quickly stand from his seat and hurry his crone of a woman into their hut, snapping at her the entire way. Davey wondered at this, just as the old man threw him an angry, disgusted glance before shutting the door close with a snap.
Davey grunted slightly, then faced forward. No wailing or crying from the children. As a matter of fact, they were all grouped around their mother, all looking at Davey like he was some odd new find. The mother, stomach round and bulging, and very much pregnant, only stood there with her lot, watching Davey expressionlessly and almost. . . puzzled. Why was she puzzled?
Davey took a few steps their way, but immediately stopped at the midway point between the two houses. Seeing him coming, the young woman gave a small shriek and began scolding all her children into the house. Amazingly, they listened. She followed them, also, and snapped the door shut just as his other neighbors had done. But this time, small foreheads and squashed noses pressed up against the windows, all trying to peer out at him.
�What�s going on?� Davey asked himself, seeing that no one else was out here with him now. He looked around but only saw his hut, as usual, the only one devoid of flowers under the windows or cheerful, colorful markers on the inside of the doorframe to protect against ill auguries. He didn�t have the first because he never had time outside his kitchens; the last because he never believed in the evil spirits that others believed in. Everything had an explanation. And there were no such things as spirits, spooks, or night ghasts. And luck was simply chance.
Davey looked back at the young family�s hut, then at the old couple�s hut. He grunted, chewed his lip, then shook his head. He turned and started off again. As strange an occurrence as this was, Davey shook it off and went about the day, not giving it more thought. If he had, he would have saved him a lot of trouble.
*************************
He decided a trip to the market should do him good. True, he went often for the sake of his culinary storage, but today he could go to look at other things than food.
He saw many booths targeted for the prissier servant girls. Shell combs, silk ribbons, crisp linen gloves, lace shawls and countless other needless and expensive foolery were spread across the tables to entice the coins out of purses. Davey gave it all a half smile and walked on, not noticing the strange looks he was getting from many of the merchants. Wherever he passed, there were several eyes gawking, lips whispering behind cupped hands into eager ears, and too many conversations falling silent. He was down two rows when he realized it had gotten quiet.
The booth he stood next to held dozens of bright, shining mirrors, all glistening to a radiant glow that came from the pine-oil polish the seller was now administering to other mirrors behind the table, back to Davey. Davey looked from one gilded-framed mirror to another, then froze. He realized he could hear the wiping streaks the seller was making on the glass. How could it get so quiet? He straightened and looked around, wondering if he hadn�t heard the royal trumpet sounding, marking the passage of royalty. Not giving the proper respect could just be a death sentence. And we all know, Davey is very wary of those death sentences.
But no, the silence wasn�t one for royalty, or even nobility. It was for him, he saw. Everyone, even down to the smallest page who looked like he stopped his mad dashing to complete some errand, stood and gawked at Davey, watching his very move.
Blinking quite innocently, which he pretty much was, Davey looked at them all. �What?� he asked, non-threateningly.
No one moved. Okay, maybe a FEW people twitched or flinched at the sound of his voice, but other than that, no one moved. They studied him, now that he was very much aware of their attentions. They watched as he grew nervous under their gaze. They noted the shifting of his feet, the nervous lip biting, the way he tucked his raven black hair behind his ears.
Davey looked left to right, front to back. No one was moving, no one was talking. They were all looking at him. They were inspecting him with the utmost scrutiny. Why? What had he done? Why wasn�t anyone saying anything?
This went on, the silent debate over the cook, for five long minutes. Just until Davey�s rescuer, his fellow servant Nick13, chanced by the frozen market. He looked around at the people, then at what caught their attention so possessively.
�Shit.� Nick swore and hurried forward. He grabbed Davey�s arm and began dragging him away. �Davey!� he hissed in his ear, �what the hell are you doing out here! Why the hell were you just standing there?�
Shocked, and understandably so, Davey allowed himself to be led away but haltingly. �Nick? What�s going on? Why were those people staring at me like that?�
Nick didn�t stop until he pushed his friend into Davey�s own house and shut the door firmly. He looked at his friend for nearly ten years. �Davey, you. . . you�re the Lord�s consort.�
Davey�s eyes immediately snapped away to look at anything but his friend. He felt his face blush so hotly he wondered why his head hadn�t exploded. �Y-y-yes.� he whispered.
Nick nodded. �Yeah, Davey, you�re his consort. He named you in front of the King himself! You think you can just go back to being a normal cook like it�s nothing? No! You can�t just stroll out in the market like that!�
�But why not?� Davey whined. He sat on his cot heavily. His knees knocked together and he tangled both hands in the sheets nervously. �Why can�t I? I hardly ever did it before! I hardly get a day off anymore! I�m always in the kitchens. Cooking this, cooking that. I need to DO something, Nick! So what if I�m- I�m- I�m a c-consort? That doesn�t mean I can�t go shopping at the market!� his eyes watered and his head tilted downward slightly as he tried to keep the tears in.
Nick moved to sit next to him. �But that�s just it, Davey! You CAN�T! Do you think Lord Hunter can go about the market whenever he pleases? Or Lady Armenia? No! They have servants to get them what they need. You can�t just walk around like that anymore. You have to remember, you have a new position now.�
�But,� Davey whispered, ducking his head so that Nick wouldn�t see the tears on his cheeks, �but I�m just the cook.�
Nick new Davey better than that. He put an arm around him and gave him a hug. �I know, Davey. But now you�re also his consort. Believe it or not, that�s a higher status than cook. You won�t be able to just walk around like that, Davey. I think it would be best if you just stay inside or at the kitchens. No telling what people will do if they see you�re not afraid of them.�
Davey wiped his face and looked up. �But, I�m NOT afraid of them!�
Nick looked at Davey sternly. �Then you haven�t heard what many of them were saying. Davey, not everyone is glad that you�ve got a higher status now. Some people aren�t too thrilled Lord Hunter chose a man to be his consort. Some of those people can be dangerous.�
Davey immediately thought of Armenia, she of the smoldering eyes, and looked away. He nodded slowly. �Yeah, I. . . I kind of thought of that too.�
Nick nodded. He patted Davey�s shoulder. �Good, then you should stay inside the rest of the day, okay? Just until Lord Hunter returns. He has Nim with him and most of his royal guard. You�re safer when they�re here. I need to get going, have some errands to run, but I�ll be back to keep you company, okay? You need anything while I�m out?�
�No, that�s okay.� Davey said quietly and watched Nick leave. He waited a few minutes, then laid down on the bed, tucking his legs up and behind him. His hands curled into fists and moved over his mouth, bouncing the warm breath from his nose back at him.
So wait here until Lord Hunter gets back? And how long would THAT be? He was supposed to be gone only the night, but there could be any number of delays or unforeseen tragedies. . .
Davey�s eyes widened and he cringed. What if something happened to Hunter? He remembered the wound Hunter had revealed that night they consummated their relationship. How bad was it for Hunter out on the road? What if he was ambushed by a group of brigands? Was there enough troops with him?
Suddenly, Davey forgot almost completely about how he was now trapped in his own hut, and instead spent hours worrying about his lover. And when Nick came back later that evening, Davey finally had a request for his friend.
�Can you take this piece of paper to the witch-woman? I need to ask a favor of her.� Davey handed him the paper.
Nick looked at it and frowned. �But. . . Davey, you said you didn�t believe in. . .�
Davey nodded. �I know, but it�s not for me. Please? Can you do this?�
Nick nodded. �Sure. I�ll do it right now. She�s a witch, so she�ll see me coming. And lock your door, Davey.� He did, then sat anxiously for Nick to return.
*****************************
Hunter, meanwhile, had finally reached his home land sometime that evening. The day�s plans hadn�t gone as they should have and they had to cancel their overnight stay. At least, for Armenia they hadn�t gone as she�d planned. He could still hear her shrieks clear in his mind, shrilling in outrage over the modest bedding they were being giving, seeing as the royal suit of the inn was still under renovations.
Good thing too, he decided as he sat in his saddle, because this whole day just spelled out disaster.
Lady Armenia rode in her carriage, as usual, which prompted Hunter to grab onto the nearest saddled horse and ride alongside his men. He rode with her coming, be damned if he�d ride with her returning.
Hunter looked up at the night sky. The deep, dark blues scattered with white, flashing specks made him think of the light that shone in his Davey�s eyes. The light that glistened at just the right angle when he smiled or giggled helplessly under Hunter�s hands. He sighed. Not even a full 24 hours and he was already missing the cook. And not because of what skills he had in the kitchen, either.
Hunter grinned crookedly, thinking back to what they had done. What he had promised to continue. Damn good thing they were coming back, right? Nothing like the present to keep certain promises.
Nim looked back and spotted Hunter grinning up at the sky like an idiot. He grunted and pulled his horse back to walk beside his Lord�s own. �See what you like in them?� Nim asked quietly, making sure none of the younger guards heard him address their lord so commonly.
Hunter looked down, still smiling. �Huh? Oh, uh. . . no. Just. . . thinking. Nim, you ever been in love before?�
Nim, who hadn�t kept up with the castle gossip, was taken aback. �Love?� he glanced back at the carriage to make sure no one was peering out. �Hunter, what are you talking about?�
Hunter shrugged. �Dunno. Just that. You ever been in love?� he peered at his gruff, rugged and intimidating security with a cocky grin. �Come on, Nim! I know you have! Tell me! What was it like?�
Nim snort and looked away. Hunter waited ten minutes, then when the man didn�t answer thought maybe he had offended him somehow. Hunter was about to apologize when Nim looked straight again but spoke low to Hunter. �I knew this girl once. She was a gorgeous girl. Knew her since she was just a scrapling. All green and more leg than tits. Had this habit, you see, of chewing on her hair. Had lots of it, too. Like spun copper. Shone like the sun.�
Hunter watched Nim carefully as he spoke. He had only been kidding the man. He hadn�t really expected Nim to have had any sort of romantic life. It just. . . wasn�t in Nim�s nature to be loving. Dedicated, sure, but not romantic!
Nim sighed, eyes going far and away. �Yeah, that hair. God! What it did to me. But. . . she wasn�t too bright. Ended up marrying some poor farmer lad and squeezing out little shitheads as stupid as either one of them.� He shook his head. �I think about that sometimes. Wonder what would have happened if I�d just made more time for her. Wonder if she�d be popping out MY little shitheads instead of his.�
�Why didn�t you go after her? Win her back before it was too late?� Hunter asked quietly.
Nim shook his head. �I had responsibilities. No time for a daisy-headed lass wanting a house and family.� He shifted in his seat and gave Hunter a slanted look. �Why do you ask, Hunt? You have a lass you been eyeing?� he looked over his shoulder again, because as bad-ass as Nim was, EVERYONE tread lightly around Armenia. �Who is it? One of the attendant girls? Or that new seamstress?�
Hunter chortled with stifled laughter. �Look at you, Nim! Such a gossip! Worse than a woman!� he laughed and looked around, unable to meet Nim�s searching gaze.
�You�re not telling?� Nim grinned, looking ten years younger. �You�ve finally got someone past old hissing hag back there and you�re not going to tell?�
Hunter looked at Nim and decided to tell his friend about the source of his happiness, a cook named Davey. But just as he was about to speak, one of his riders came hurrying over. It was one of the lead scouts. At his presence, Nim snapped back into duty mode and sat straighter, the scowl returning to his face.
�What is it?� he demanded sharply.
�Sir,� the fellow saluted both Nim and Lord Hunter, �the witch-woman�s up ahead. Said she wants to talk to Lord Hunter.�
Nim scowled. �It�s in the middle of the night. If we delay any longer, we�ll get to the keep past sun-up.�
The man nodded. �She said you�d say that. Said Lord Hunter only needs to stop. The caravan can keep going. She says she needs to see you immediately, Lord Hunter, forgive me.�
They exchanged a glance. �Well,� Hunter said, moving his horse out of the formation, �can�t leave a lady waiting, now can we?�
Nim moved his horse, too. �NOT without me, your lordship.� To the other men, he said, �Continue to the keep. Lord Hunter and I will be back shortly.� they saluted and nodded their understanding.
Nim turned his horse and trotted after Hunter�s. they came to the branch in the road where the old woman must have stood to wait for the scout, but she was long gone by then, back inside her cave. Hunter glanced briefly at Nim, then spurred his horse forward. The faster they got there, the faster they could get home.
The witch woman had been loyal to Hunter�s family for countless generations. No one knew exactly how many, and it was considered rude to ask, but it seemed like there had never been a time without the old crone to help guide their family. Sometimes she merely conjured up potions or read omens in the bottom of a teacup. Sometimes she went as far as putting a curse on an enemy of the family�s if it was necessary.
For Hunter�s Grandfather, she cured his limp and secured him his kingship through a plague on his rivals. For Hunter�s father, she pointed out an assassination attempt that had nearly gone through. For Hunter, she had been mid-wife at his birthing.
They came down the dark, empty road and reached the cave. They tied their horses to a tree and started forward. Light from a small fire lit the cave and its single inhabitant. . . and someone who looked like they just came in from another direction.
�Sit there.� the crone told the man. He sat, then shot back up when he spotted Hunter.
�My lord.� he said, then bowed in respect. To which the crone smacked him upside the head.
�What�d I say?!� she scolded him and pushed him back down. �You sit and don�t move!� She made sure he wasn�t going to move again, then shuffled toward the entrance where Hunter and Nim stood just outside.
�Old mother,� Hunter said, giving her a hug, �you called?�
The hag turned her blind eyes up at him and scowled. �And been a while, too! You haven�t been to see me in weeks! What a rascal! Not seeing your poor old mother!� she turned to Nim, showing her uncanny ability to sense others around her. �And you! You can just go back and stand with your horse! I won�t let you in!�
�Gladly.� he said, voice letting the words drop like stones as he turned away in disgust.
Hunter frowned as the witch led him inside. �Old mother, why don�t you like Nim? He�s a good man!�
�Eh eh eh!� she waved away his words and dragged him in. �Let�s not talk about him! Not when we can talk about other things. Like, what this young man is here for!� she gestured to the man she forced to sit on the stool by the wall. Hunter knew that particular stool wasn�t very comfortable so the man had his sympathy.
�What�s going on?� he asked. He let the witch lead him to sit on another stool across the fire from the man.
The old crone shuffled about her well-known cave, lifting this and moving that as she gathered ingredients. �In a minute!� she said. �Tell me, boy, something change lately? Anything new you want to tell me about?�
Hunter thought about it. Nothing happening business-wise, his family still the same, Armenia still a bitch. . . no children yet. . . he frowned, then his expression cleared. �Oh! Yeah! I have a new consort!� he grinned, then realized the man across from him had a new, strange expression.
�Oh?� the witch asked lightly, hiding her grin by quickly turning away. �That so? Who is it, boy? A farm lass? Or a. . . kitchen lass?� she snickered behind a gnarled claw.
Hunter almost didn�t catch it. Almost. �Old mother. . .� he frowned. �Wh-. . . what�s on your mind? Why did you ask to see me?�
The witch finally stopped and turned around. �Why? Because I saw need of an intervention, boy. Why do I ever call you or your family? Because things aren�t going the way I want them to! They shouldn�t be diverting like this! Look here!� but instead of saying what she needed to say, the hag went back to tossing things in her black cauldron.
Hunter waited, then looked at the man. �Well? Why are you here?�
The man looked fearfully at the witch, then turned back to Hunter. �My Lord, my friend asked me to come to the witch for a charm for his lover. She told me to stay.� his eyes looked around nervously at the cluster of hanging dried bat wings and the various jars collecting dust on a wide shelf containing all sorts of animal parts or pieces. Hunter knew how he felt. This place gave him the willies whenever he came, too.
Hunter looked back at the crone. �Why HAVE you called me here?� he waited, then stood. �Well, if you don�t want to say. . .� he made to go join Nim at the horses.
�Arrgh!� the witch cursed. �Don�t be so impatient, boy! Come back here!� she waited until she heard him sit back down before talking again. �I mean you to take this fella�s package back in his place.�
Hunter was taken aback. He looked at him again. Lord Hunter had many servants in the keep, that was true. Only a few he recognized by face or by name, although he was friendly enough with them all. So finally, Hunter recognized the servants� face.
�Nick18, am I right?� Hunter asked.
�Er. . . 13, my Lord.� Nick said. He shifted nervously.
The witch turned back now with a dark bottle stoppered with a bit of crumbling cork and a large beeswax candle. �Here you go, boy.� She handed the items to Hunter. �Nick here will tell you where to take them. His friend is waiting for them.�
Hunter looked at the witch skeptically. �Am I to play errand boy then?� and since he never crossed the witch, he turned to Nick. �So who�s the friend? Who should I call upon at this hour of the night?�
�Er. . .� Nick was about to say when he saw the witch glaring in his direction. He gulped. He didn�t want to be turned into a toad. He REALLY didn�t want to. �Eh. . . don�t worry, my lord. Just. . . just knock and . . . and my friend will answer. It�s just. . . they live alone.� he said simply, then looked down as he told Hunter the directions.
Hunter made a mental note of them and nodded. �Okay, that it then?� he looked at the witch, a small faint smile curving his lips. �Anymore errands, old mother?�
She scowled. �No, and don�t you dawdle either! Hup! Hup! Get that to them as fast as you can! And no taking Nim with you! That boy ain�t right! You make sure you send him to the keep before you take it. Hear me? Don�t let him know where you�re going!�
Hunter nodded. �Okay, I will.� he turned and hurried off, stowing the items in his saddle bags before Nim could spot them. �Come on, Nim, we need to get home before Armie explodes.�
*****************************
He finally managed to lose Nim at the stables. He offered to unsaddle both horses if Nim would go in and tell Armenia that he would be up in a minute. �Always the hard part.� Nim shook his head sadly and did as his lord told him to.
Once he was gone, however, Hunter got two stable hands to see to the mounts and told them to tell Nim if he came back that he just missed Lord Hunter going into the keep by the side entrance. Then, taking the items, Hunter went off in search of the small hut.
It was dark in this section of the town. Nothing to worry about, of course, there was hardly any crime. But still. . . it being so dark and shadows cast about at every corner. . .
Hunter stopped and realized he was at the hut. It was as Nick13 described it: bare and colorless. Not a petal or leaf under the windows, no sign of any type of ward or herb sprig of protection inside the threshold. Interesting. This person feared not even night ghasts? Even Hunter feared them.
He reached out and gave the door two simple knocks, all too aware of the quiet around him. He waited, then was about to knock again when the sound of a lock turned. The door opened to reveal the gentle light of a lone candle slowly melting on a tiny plate beside the small cot.
The person who opened the door stared back at Hunter, reflecting the shock he had on his own face. �Davey?� Hunter asked quietly.
�H-Hunter?� Davey asked, then looked down at the items in his hands. When Davey looked back up at him, it was with a small smile in his eyes. He moved back and opened the door wider. �My Lord.� he said simply. It seemed, his prayers had been heard tonight. After Hunter gladly hurried in, Davey shut the door quickly and re-locked it.
Hunter looked around. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. A cot. A small table. A chest for clothes. That was it? Was there nothing else? What about all those things that made Davey gorgeous every day? Those mysterious things that women did in front of a dressing table and mirror? Where was all that? Surely Davey didn�t just look that beautiful naturally!
But when he turned back around to face Davey, he knew that was the only explanation. There he stood, black hair hung about his face, hands clasped together in silent joy and the light glistening in his eyes. His. . . red-rimmed eyes.
�Davey!� Hunter threw the things in his hands to the floor as he took up his lover. �You�re crying! Why? What�s wrong?�
Davey let his hands settle on Hunter�s chest. He felt Hunter breath, felt each thud of his heart. His hands moved up and traveled to Hunter�s face. Hunter watched as a smile slowly lit up Davey�s face. �Call me silly,� Davey whispered, �but I was so worried about you, my Lord. I. . .I thought. . . something might happen to you. Something. . . on the road. . .�
Hunter silenced Davey gently with a small kiss. He looked deep into those dark brown ones, sinking into their depths. �No, Davey, nothing bad happened. Nothing wrong. We came back because Armenia wouldn�t sleep in a strange bed, that�s all. I swear to you Davey, you have nothing to worry about.� he let his own hands run up and down Davey�s sides and down his back.
Davey moved closer, body leaning against Hunter�s. �Yes, my lord, but. . . I can�t help it. I worry for you. I. . .� he paused, biting his lip anxiously.
�Yes?� Hunter asked eagerly. Please let him say it, he thought desperately, please please please!
�I. . .� Davey�s eyes blinked slowly, then lighted on Hunter�s own again before he went on. �I love you, my lord.�
�And I love you.� Hunter said just as softly. There was a pause, then they each drew the other in for a long, passionate kiss broken only by their eventual mad scramble to get their clothes off without losing touch of each other for long.
�Come morning,� Hunter panted over Davey as he held his legs up and thrust in, �you�re not going to be staying in this hut anymore, Davey! And. . . and. . . ugh! Ahhh, yeah, that�s good. . .You�re going to have a decent bed! I�ll not fuck you on this thing! Mmmm. . . Not big enough for one, hardly holding up two! And. . . and. . . and. . .� but whatever else he had planned was tossed out of his mind as Davey climaxed underneath him, taking him as well.
*******************************
And as good as his word, as soon as Hunter woke up from his favorite position, on top of Davey of course, he dressed and ordered a room to be prepared for his royal consort. Right next to his, of course.
�Not like you�ll sleep here often.� Hunter boasted to Davey with a devilish smirk on his lips. They stood in Davey�s new room, just as richly furnished as Hunter�s, though this one with a dresser and mirror. �You�ll be next door with me if I have anything to say about it.�
Davey smiled at Hunter, making his heart leap in his chest. �Okay, my lord. A very. . . reasonable order.�
�Why you minx,� Hunter grinned before taking Davey in his arms for a friendly tickle. . . that turned into a few strokes and a quick grope.
�M-m-my Lord!� Davey gasped.
�Mmm, yeah,� Hunter grinned happily, �now say my name!�
�Hunter.� But this didn�t come from Davey. This came from the doorway, from the lean, graceful man who stood there.
He wore nondescript riding gear, worn and dirty from traveling, a beaten and battered hat in his hand. At his hip hung a coiled whip. His hair was brown with a big swatch of blond like that of a skunk to hang down half his face. His features were boyish but his eyes told of cruelty, malice and sultry hunger. Whatever drove this man, drove him precisely and powerfully. He was a dangerous man who moved into the room with the elegance and stealth of a great cat. He was dangerous, yes. Davey could sense that immediately. Yet. . . there was something about him, wasn�t there? Something he just couldn�t put a finger on. Something that drew him in. . .
Hunter noted the way his consort�s jaw nearly hung open and he glared. �Brother, must you interrupt?�
The man, Lord Hunter�s brother, gave a shrug that made good use of the close-fitting clothes and showed off. . . many things. �Sorry, Hunt. Bad timing, I know, but I heard news of your upcoming ball and. . . well, ha ha ha, I just HAD to come and see it for myself!� He now stood in front of the two of them, eyes drinking in the sight of Davey and his raven hair. �And who. . . who is this devastatingly beautiful man?�
Breathe, Davey told himself, just breathe. Lord Hunter might not catch you if you faint.
Davey did breathe, but it was hard. He blushed a scarlet that hurt his face and turned his gaze downward. Not polite to stare.
Hunter growled deep in his throat but otherwise remained civil. �Davey. My new consort.�
His brother did another scrutinizing look over, eyes going glazed just like Hunter�s did whenever he looked at Davey. Truly, they were brothers. �Not bad,� the man said finally. He caught and held Davey�s eyes. �Not bad at all. Davey, is it? Not David, but Davey? How. . . cute.� Before Hunter could protest, the man swiftly took up Davey�s hand and brought his wrist up to his lips. �Very, VERY much a pleasure to meet you, Davey. I am Jade, brother to your lover. And, perhaps, even yours.� Davey felt a chill run through his spine as he felt Jade�s tongue slip slowly across his skin between his parted lips.
Oh, crap, who was this now? Davey had no clue, but he knew by the look in his lord�s eyes, it wasn�t going to be a good day, after all.
*******************************