The Whore Of New Slum

HORE

LUM

…If the sun shone in the sky, no one who lived in New Slum ever

knew. Black smoke filled the air and blocked out any chance of light.
At night, the only sources of illumination were the coal lanterns
hanging from poles on the corners and the different steam lights in the
saloons, pubs, and brothels that populated New Slum. The only chance
any of the inhabitants of the poorest borough in New Britain had to see
real sunlight was to sneak into one of the other four boroughs of the
city, or simply glimpse it from afar.

Wendall strolled along what passed as a sidewalk in the Slum. He

contemplated the dark sky for a moment before looking over to where
weak  early  morning  sunlight  shone  down  on  New  Upper,  the  richest
borough  in  New  Britain,  and  the  only  one  that  could  afford  to  buy  a
high  level  spell  to  ward  off  the  cloud  of  coal  smoke  rising  from  the
factories  and  mines.  Well,  New  Island  didn’t  have  smoke  over  it
either, but since it  was a  military base and the air  had to be clear for
the airships, it didn’t count.

He coughed into his handkerchief, hating how heavy his chest felt.

Christ! He’d thought working as a whore would be easier on his health
than heading into the coalmines like his father, but apparently coal
soot was bad for his lungs no matter where he breathed it in.

Wendall continued his stroll, heading toward a large building on

the next block. The Merciful Sisters of Hope Hospital was one of the
bigger buildings in the borough. He hated the dark structure with its
oppressive, soul-draining atmosphere. There was nothing happy or
hopeful about the place, and it didn’t matter how hard the sisters tried
to make it less depressing…

LSO

HASE

Air And Dreams

Allergies

Bastet

Be The Air For You

Bitter Creek’s Redemption

Bring Him Gold

Duncan’s World

Embrace My Reflection

Embraced In Gold

Freaks In Love

Kissed By God

Lift Your Voice

The Longest Stride

Love’s Baggage

Nick Of Time

Nowhere Diner: Finding Love

Revealing The Past

Seduced

Seduced And Revealed

Shades Of Dreams

Soothe The Burn

They Walk Among Us

Under My Bed

Voice For The Silent

Why I Love Geeks

Why I Love Waiters

Wolf’s Survival

THE WHORE

OF NEW SLUM

T. A. CHASE

MBER

UILL

RESS

LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

HORE

LUM

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-390-1

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

CHAPTER 1

If the sun shone in the sky, no one who lived in New Slum ever

knew.  Black  smoke  filled  the  air  and  blocked  out  any  chance  of
light.  At  night,  the  only  sources  of  illumination  were  the  coal
lanterns hanging from poles on the corners and the different steam
lights in the saloons, pubs, and brothels that populated New Slum.
The  only  chance  any  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  poorest  borough  in
New  Britain  had  to  see  real  sunlight  was  to  sneak  into  one  of  the
other four boroughs of the city, or simply glimpse it from afar.

Wendall strolled along what passed as a sidewalk in the Slum.

He contemplated the dark sky for a moment before looking over to
where weak early morning sunlight shone down on New Upper,
the richest borough in New Britain, and the only one that could
afford to buy a high level spell to ward off the cloud of coal smoke

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

rising from the factories and mines. Well, New Island didn’t have
smoke over it either, but since it was a military base and the air had
to be clear for the airships, it didn’t count.

He coughed into his handkerchief, hating how heavy his chest

felt. Christ! He’d thought working as a  whore would be easier on
his  health  than  heading  into  the  coalmines  like  his  father,  but
apparently  coal  soot  was  bad  for  his  lungs  no  matter  where  he
breathed it in.

“Good morning, Master Wendall.”
Wendall glanced to his left, where a teenaged boy sat on the

front steps of a pub. He paused in front of him. “Good morning,
Jebediah. Are you waiting for Miller to open up?”

“Yes, sir. He pays me a few coins to sweep the floor and clean

up before he opens to customers.” Jebediah grimaced. “I don’t
really like it, but can’t turn down a job.”

He rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder for a moment. “It’s

better than the mines or being a soldier, my young friend. You’re
more likely to live long enough to get old, if you’re only sweeping
floors.”

Jebediah nodded before gesturing to the flowers in Wendall’s

other hand. “Off to see Miss Molly?”

“It’s Monday, isn’t it?” Wendall winked at the teenager, though

there wasn’t any joy in his heart at the thought of visiting his sister.

Jebediah smiled as he stood, and the expression in his eyes

showed he understood how Wendall really felt. Most of the people
who called New Slum home dealt with the same situation Wendall
found himself in. Overwhelming poverty allowed disease to run
rampant throughout the Slum, and dozens of people died every day
because of it.

“I have to get going. Want to get there before visiting hours are

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

over.” Wendall pulled a coin from his pocket before slipping into
Jebediah’s hand. “If you and your sisters need anything, you know
where to find me.”

“Yes, sir.” Jebediah nodded.
Wendall continued his stroll, heading toward a large building

on the next block. The Merciful Sisters of Hope Hospital was one
of the bigger buildings in the borough. He hated the dark structure
with its oppressive, soul-draining atmosphere. There was nothing
happy or hopeful about the place, and it didn’t matter how hard the
sisters tried to make it less depressing.

After shoving open the door, Wendall walked through the foyer

to the reception desk. The pale nun sitting behind the plain oak
table smiled at him.

“Master Wendall, I was wondering if you were going to make

it today.”

He bowed slightly and grimaced behind the cascade of hair

pouring  over  his  shoulder  to  almost  touch  the  floor.  He  hated  his
hair  because  it  was  hard  to  keep  neat  and  washing  it  was  a  bitch.
Yet  the  smog  and  dirt  coating  everything  made  it  impossible  for
him to go more than a day without cleansing his hair. If he’d had a
choice,  he’d  cut  it,  but  it  turned  out  the  men  who  bought  his
services  liked  his  long  hair.  Maybe  for  most  of  them,  it  gave  the
illusion  of  fucking  a  woman  and  they  didn’t  have  to  admit  they
were really using whatever hole they could find.

Wendall didn’t begrudge the men who used him for some sort

of companionship. Being poor didn’t give a person a lot of options,
and sometimes sex was a way of connecting with a human when
you’d otherwise be all alone. As much as Wendall didn’t always
like his job, there were times when having someone fuck him was
the closest he got to being loved, if even for a moment.

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

The sharply in-drawn breath of the nun and the light pink color

of her cheeks told him that not even women were immune to his
looks. Also, not even a woman of God was safe from attraction.

“Ah, you know better than to doubt me, Sister Anna Marie. I

would never disappoint Molly like that. May I go up to her?”

“Certainly, sir.”
Molly’s room was on the third floor, where all of the terminal

cases were kept, so Wendall headed for the stairs. The hospital did
have elevators, but they were old and unreliable. Also, the men
who stoked the fires to create the steam to move them were mostly
drunks or elderly. It was hard to know if they were sober or if they
wouldn’t wander off, leaving Wendall stuck in one of the cars.

The thought of coal caused Wendall to pause and turn back to

the sister. “Did the hospital receive your weekly delivery of coal
yet?”

She frowned. “I’d have to check with Mother Superior.”
“Do that, please, and send a note to Molly’s room,” he ordered

her in a gentle tone.

“Yes, sir.”
It might have seemed odd to a person unfamiliar with Wendall

or  the  way  things  worked  in  New  Slum  that  a  nun  would  take
orders from a man like him. He reached up to trace the faint flower
brand  on  his  right  cheek,  marking  him  a  whore—or  sex  peddler,
which  was  the  politically  correct  term  for  his  profession.  Whores
weren’t  supposed  to  leave  New  Slum,  being  confined  to  the
poorest place in New Britain, or at least that’s what the authorities
tried to enforce.

Having lived in New Slum all of his life, Wendall had chosen

to be a whore because he stood a better chance of living to see his
thirtieth birthday working on his back, or his knees, as it were.

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

Yet he’d discovered being a sex peddler had more advantages

than a longer life. His willingness to let other men fuck him for
money gave him access to powerful men who could get things
done. Like making sure the only hospital in New Slum had enough
coal to keep the lights and other machines running.

As he climbed the stairs, he mentally organized the rest of his

day. After visiting Molly, he had to place some orders at some
shops for The Pink Carnation, the brothel he worked at. He didn’t
have to be ready for turning tricks until ten that night. Wendall
rarely worked daytime hours anymore.

Nighttime customers spent more money on whores, gambling,

and  liquor,  and  The  Pink  Carnation  was  one  of  the  more
respectable  establishments  in  the  borough,  or  as  respectable  as  a
brothel  can  be.  Wendall  had  several  repeat  customers  who  he
found  useful  in  other  ways  and  he  wasn’t  afraid  of  using  their
connections for his own means.

As he reached the second floor landing, he heard shouting from

down the hall. Usually, he’d ignore the arguing and make his way
up to Molly’s room, but he found a reluctance to continue on
today. More than likely, it was because he knew Molly’s time was
growing near and he hated watching his sister waste away.

So he wandered in the direction of the yelling, curious as to

what—or who—was causing all the trouble. He approached the
room, and someone burst out of it, running into him.

He grunted and stumbled back, arms flailing as he tried to keep

his  balance  and  not  end  up  on  his  ass.  Two  hands  came  into  his
view,  gripping  his  wrists  long  enough  for  him  to  get  back  on  his
feet. Wendall blinked, not sure he’d seen what he thought he had.
One of the hands had been normal, well formed, with thick fingers
and  scars  marring  the  darkly  tanned  skin.  The  other  hand  had

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

looked like it was made out of metal: bright, shiny silver skin with
steel joints.

Wendall’s gaze shot up to look at the person standing in front

of  him.  By  his  height  and  the  breadth  of  his  shoulders,  Wendall
deduced  the  stranger  was  male,  but  he  couldn’t  tell  anything  else
about  him.  The  bottom  half  of  the  man’s  face  was  covered  by  a
leather  mask,  and  a  high-collared  shirt  and  long  leather  pants  hid
everything else.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Wendall thanked his experience in hiding his emotions when

he  heard  the  stranger’s  voice.  It  sounded  like  he’d  gargled  with
broken  glass  and  tore  his  vocal  cords  apart  to  the  point  there  was
almost  nothing  left  of  them.  Wendall  kept  his  face  bland,  hoping
he showed only a mild hint of curiosity.

“It’s all right. I wasn’t paying attention and stopped at the

wrong floor. Have too many things running around in my head at
the moment.” Wendall flashed his best customer smile and bowed
a little. “Thank you for saving me from embarrassing myself.”

The stranger stepped back, holding his left hand behind his

back, obviously forgetting Wendall had already seen it. He dipped
his  head,  turning  so  that  the  left  side  was  hidden  from  Wendall.
Scars crisscrossed the  man’s  face, and a  deep furrow had  formed
between  the  man’s  eyebrows,  making  Wendall  believe  he  was  in
pain.

“You’re welcome.”
“Abdur, get back in here. I still need to make some adjustments

and make sure you’re strong enough for the procedure.”

A doctor rushed through the door, skidding to a stop the

moment his eyes landed on Wendall. His eyes went right to the
brand on Wendall’s face, and Wendall braced himself for the

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

scornful expression the doctor was sure to be sporting soon. A lot
of  people  looked  down  on  Wendall  and  his  kind  for  the  services
they  provided,  yet  if  they  didn’t  do  it,  there  would  be  a  lot  of
unhappy  people  doing  terrible  things  to  each  other.  Most  people
didn’t see that and thought they were superior to Wendall.

“What are you doing here?” The doctor sneered.
“I got off on the wrong floor, doctor. I was just leaving.”

Wendall nodded at the masked man before whirling around and
striding back to the stairs.

“You’re an ass, Rogerton,” was the last thing Wendall heard as

he hit the landing and headed up to Molly’s floor.

He dashed up the final flight of stairs and made his way to

Molly’s  room.  After  knocking,  he  pushed  the  door  open  and
glanced around the edge to make sure she was by herself. His sister
might be dying, but she was still very much a social butterfly  and
there  were  several  days  he’d  shown  up  to  find  her  room  packed
with friends.

“Come in, Wen. There’s no one here at the moment.”
Blinking the sudden tears away, Wendall stepped into the room

before shutting the door behind him. He turned and caught his
breath.

“I must not be looking particularly fetching today if you react

that way,” Molly joked as he approached her bed.

“You always look marvelous, love.” He removed the dead

flowers from the vase next to her bed and, after throwing them
away, replaced them with the new ones. He leaned over to brush a
kiss against her cheek.

Her laugh was breathless and faint. “You’ve always been such

a good liar, brother mine. Come and sit. Tell me all about what’s
going on in the world outside this depressing place.”

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

Wendall sat, took Molly’s hand in his, and began to recount

what had happened since he last saw her. He ignored the way the
disease had ravaged her beautiful face. It was times like this when
he hated the world around him. It made him wish they were rich,
so he could hire a magic user to cure her, but that wasn’t possible
in New Slum.

Nothing was possible in New Slum any more, not even if

Wendall had the money. He was trapped by the very job that gave
him a chance to survive. He couldn’t remove the brand on his
cheek, and no one in any of the other boroughs would give him a
chance to be anything other than a whore.

“Why are you frowning like that?” Molly’s question brought

him out of his own dark thoughts.

He smiled and shook his head. “Just tired. Had a rather busy

night and got up early today.”

“You know, you don’t have to come and visit me every week. I

would understand if you missed a week now and then.”

Wendall loved his sister because he knew she meant what she

said, but he couldn’t risk missing a day with her, and her dying on
him. He made the decision to start visiting her daily. Death sat
quietly on her shoulder, whispering in her ear about the joys of
what waited on the other side. Wendall couldn’t compete with that,
and to be honest, he didn’t want to keep her any longer.

She’d suffered enough in her young life. He’d done all he could

to keep her from being a whore or a serving wench at one of the
pubs, but Molly had other plans. She’d gotten swept off her feet by
a soldier and moved with him to New Island. Unfortunately, she’d
discovered the stench of New Slum would never leave her.

Molly was sick by the time Wendall had retrieved her from the

soldiers, and there was no way he could save her. She was so far

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

gone, he doubted even a magic user could find the right spell to
save her life, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have tried if he
could afford one.

“I’m not going to leave you here on your own, or with your

horde of adoring followers. You’re my sister, and we’re the only
family we’ve got. I’m going to start coming every day.”

She shook her head. “No, Wen. You work so late. I don’t want

you to miss out on your sleep because of me. I’ll be all right. It’s
not like I’m completely alone here.”

“I know, love, but I can always go back and sleep for a little

while before I have to be ready for work. I don’t share my room
with any of the other whores at the Carnation, so I won’t be
bothered.”

The employees of the brothel who would come and ask him

stupid questions would bother him, but he would put up with it, if
it meant spending more time with Molly. He didn’t want to discuss
it anymore, so he smiled at her.

“What kind of gossip have you heard from all the nurses? For a

religious hospital, there certainly are a lot of wagging tongues
around here.”

Wendall moved to sit next to Molly on the bed, wrapping his

arm around her shoulder, and letting her rest her head on his chest.

“Sister Theresa Lynne said there’s a very secret patient on the

second floor. No one, except the doctors and Mother Superior, has
seen him. She said he has his own private nurses. None of the nuns
are allowed to enter his room or anything like that.” Molly pursed
her lips. “Who do you suppose it is?”

Wendall had a feeling he’d run into the secret patient on his

way up to Molly’s room, but he didn’t say anything. Something
told him the stranger wouldn’t like being talked about, yet he had

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

to respond to Molly.

“Maybe he’s a soldier or someone important to the military.”
She nodded. “Could be, or maybe he’s a French spy, and the

government is keeping him here because it’s easier to hide
someone in New Slum.”

“No one asks questions here,” he admitted.
Curiosity was beaten out of anyone who lived in the borough.

Asking questions could get someone killed, either by being thrown
in the river or tossed to the bottom of one of the coalmines.
Turning a blind eye to the things going on around them allowed the
inhabitants to survive.

“Maybe The Whore knows who he is,” Molly whispered.
Wendall chuckled. “Now, Molly, you know The Whore is just

a legend. He’s a myth for us poor sods to believe and hope in.
There’s some avenging angel out there looking out for us. I don’t
believe he exists. We’re stuck in this shitty world on our own, and
we can only take care of ourselves.”

She slapped his chest weakly. “You’re such a cynic. Don’t you

secretly hope some man will come striding into the Carnation and
sweep you off your feet? You could get out of this god-forsaken
borough and go up to New France or out to New Spain.”

“Honey, I love the fact you still believe there’s someone out

there who could love a whore like me, but I know better. No man
wants used goods.”

“But unless you’re a virgin, everyone is used goods,” Molly

pointed out.

She was right about that, but it didn’t change Wendall’s mind.

He knew better than to think any man would want to spend the rest
of his life loving a whore who’d sold himself to anyone with
money. It wouldn’t matter that he did it to survive and support his

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

family. All any man would think of was all the other men he’d
serviced and allowed to fuck him.

“Hell, none of the nuns in this hospital are virgins, Wen, but if

God can overlook their transgressions, I’m sure a simple man
would be able to look beyond your job.” Her voice was soft and he
had to strain to hear it.

Her strength was fading faster now, and he knew soon she

wouldn’t  be  awake  when  he  came  to  visit.  At  some  point  in  the
next month, he would be burying his sister and he would be alone
in  the  world.  Their  mother  died  while  giving  birth  to  Molly,  and
their  father  died  in  the  mines  ten  years  ago,  which  was  why
Wendall went into the sex business.

A hissing chime rang out, and he stood before walking across

the room to where the dumb waiter was. He slid the door open and
removed the paper. Wendall read it and frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Molly studied him.
“Nothing. I’ll deal with it later.” He tucked the note in his

pocket before smiling at her.

He re-joined her on the bed, and they started talking about

other things.

* * *

Abdur stared out the window of his room, watching the dark-

haired man stride down the stairs and turn left on the sidewalk. He
studied the way broad shoulders slimmed into narrow hips. The
long fall of black hair intrigued him. His hands itched to touch and
play with it.

He clenched his hands, and the hiss of steam as the metal joints

making his left hand move drew a frown from him. He might want

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

to touch the man, but he never would. Abdur had thought he had
accepted the reality that he would always be alone.

“Abdur, you need to rest. The general wishes to talk to you

tomorrow, so you need your strength for the trip to New Island.”

The Mother Superior walked in. She’d gotten used to Abdur’s

ruined visage, so she didn’t react when he turned to look at her.
He’d taken off his mask when he’d gone back in his room and
forgotten to put it back on.

“I don’t feel like sleeping,” he said, but he went to his bed and

sat on it, accepting the tray she handed him.

“I know you don’t, but I think it’s best.”
He set the plates aside before resting his hands on his thighs.

“It still hurts.”

Whether he was talking about his voice, his body, or his soul,

he couldn’t have said. All he knew was the pain had become
second nature to him. It was a familiar weight he carried around,
like a coat he never took off.

He simply knew it hurt.
“I’m sorry. Do you need more pills? Maybe I could convince

the doctor to bring a magic user up to cast a pain spell on you.”
Mother Superior looked worried.

Abdur shook his head, even though moving it added to the

ache. “Magic won’t work on me any more. I had too many spells
put on me right after my injuries to keep me alive.”

She reached out, but held her hands inches from his left

shoulder. He had to get used to never being touched again. No one
would want to get close to the monster he’d become.

“Eat, then try to get some rest. If you need anything, you know

where I’ll be.” She patted the sheets next to him.

“I’m not supposed to wander the halls. The generals were very

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

specific about not letting anyone see me.” He snorted. “That didn’t
work out so well this morning.”

Mother Superior glared at him. “Who saw you?”
He shrugged. “He was pretty with long black hair and dark

eyes. The doctor was a complete ass to him.”

“Did he have a flower branded on his cheek?” She touched the

same spot on her face where the man’s brand had been.

“Yes.”
Abdur shifted slightly as his cock stiffened at the memory of

how beautiful the man had been. Why had this attraction hit him so
hard?  Before  his  attack,  he’d  jumped  from  bed  to  bed,  never
becoming attached to anyone in particular, but he’d discovered that
kind  of  lifestyle  ended  up  leaving  him  alone.  No  one  had  tried  to
see  him  while  he  was  in  the  hospital,  and  once  the  military  took
him, he didn’t have anyone to argue for him about their actions.

“Ah, I wonder how he got mixed up enough to come down this

hall. Wendall comes every Monday to visit his sister. She’s in the
terminal  ward  on  the  third  floor.  He  did  tell  me  he’d  be  coming
every  day  now,  since  Molly  is  dying  and  she  doesn’t  have  much
time  left.”  Mother  Superior  shook  her  head  and  sighed.  “It’s  so
sad.  Such  a  beautiful  young  woman,  yet  this  life  crushed  any
chance she had of being anything more than a statistic.”

“What does her brother do? Why was the doctor such an ass to

him?” Abdur wasn’t from New Britain. He’d been taken from New
France and brought to the building he was in.

“Wendall is a sex peddler. He works at The Pink Carnation

brothel a couple blocks from here.” She didn’t sound disgusted or
upset by what Wendall did.

He glanced at her, studying her expression. “You don’t look

down on Wendall for what he does?”

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

She shook her head. “I understand why he chose to do what he

does. When one lives in New Slum, one must do whatever one can
to survive to the next day. My sisters and I came here to help them,
but after a week, I realized we couldn’t save them all. Abdur, we
will be unlikely to save most of them.”

Mother Superior headed toward the door, but she turned and

looked back at him. “Wendall is a good man, no matter what he
does to survive. It’s not my place to judge anyone. I’m simply here
to help as best I can.”

Abdur waited until she left before he stood and made his way

back  to  the  window.  He  stared  out  at  the  dirty  streets  and  soot-
covered  buildings  surrounding  him.  As  he  studied  the  people
strolling  along  outside,  he  heard  some  nuns  chatting  outside  his
room.

“Some medical supplies arrived earlier today,” one said.
“Did The Whore send them?” Excitement colored the other

nun’s voice.

“Yes—or at least I think so. Mother Superior wouldn’t answer

me when I asked.”

Their voices faded away, and Abdur wondered who The Whore

was.  He’d  overheard  the  nuns  and  doctors  at  the  hospital  talk  in
whispers  about  the  person  almost  from  the  minute  he  arrived.
Suddenly,  he  wanted  out  and  he  wasn’t  going  to  stay  in  the
hospital anymore. The general would have him brought back to the
base  any  day  now.  Once  that  happened,  he  would  never  be  free
again.

After making his decision, he sat and ate. It helped to have a

plan, so he stripped and laid down to rest. If all worked out, he
would be spending the night somewhere else, and maybe be
touched for the last time in his life.

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

CHAPTER 2

Wendall glanced at the small clock puffing on the wall over the

bar.  He’d  been  working  for  four  hours  and  had  serviced  a  few
customers,  but  it  wasn’t  a  terribly  busy  night  for  him.  As  he
wandered around the bar room, he studied the patrons, checking to
see which ones might be interested in a little extra fun in one of the
rooms upstairs. It wasn’t just work for him. Being the oldest of the
whores,  he’d  taken  over  the  job  of  arranging  the  other  whores’
schedules.

They didn’t mind because he knew what each whore was

willing to do and how many customers he or she could have during
the night. Wendall also knew which one needed more money on
any given day. So the ones who needed to make rent or pay a bill
got more tricks than others.

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He nodded and smiled at the regulars who played cards and

drank at  the  Carnation. Some  were  ones  he’d had visit  his rooms
quite  often,  but  others  were  people  who  simply  stopped  by  the
saloon  because  it  tended  to  have  the  best  liquor  in  New  Slum.
Also, they had honest dealers and their other games weren’t rigged.

Russell tended bar, pouring drinks for everyone. He’d worked

at the saloon since Wendall first started there. They’d become
friends, who’d learned how to read each other’s expressions. So
far, Russell was happy with the way the night had been going.

Instead of coal lanterns, The Pink Carnation was able to afford

steam  lamps,  so  there  was  the  soft  hiss  of  steam  as  the  lines
pumped the power to the bulbs. It was warm in the saloon, and the
doors  and  windows  were  opened  to  the  night  air.  The  smell  of
sweat,  beer,  and  coal  mingled  in  the  haze  of  smoke  hanging  near
the ceiling.

Wendall was chatting softly with one of the other whores when

the sudden silence in the room alerted him to a new arrival. He
glanced over his shoulder and froze for a second. While he
couldn’t see the man’s face because of the low brim of his hat and
the leather mask he wore to hide it, Wendall had a feeling he knew
the stranger standing in the doorway.

When the silence grew too heavy to deal with, Wendall sucked

in a deep breath and headed toward the customer. He looked over
at Russell, and the bartender nodded.

“Welcome to The Pink Carnation,” Wendall said, as he strolled

up to the man. He smiled, but there didn’t seem to be any return
greeting from him. “What would you like? A drink? A whore?”

“Both.”
Again, Wendall hid his wince at the tortured voice. He placed

his hand in the crook of the guy’s arm, leading him to the bar. All

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the other sex peddlers turned back to their customers with obvious
relief. The tension in the air also disappeared because Wendall had
taken over.

Russell met them at the bar. “What would you like?”
“Whiskey.”
The bartender didn’t bother to hide his grimace at the strangled

word. He set a bottle on the bar before gesturing to the stairs.
“Take the bottle. You can settle with Wendall.”

“Thank you, Russell. Take care of things down here for me.”
“Will do.”
Wendall grabbed the bottle, keeping his hand on the rather hard

arm.  He’d  noticed  something  strange  about  the  flesh  underneath
his  fingers.  It  was  cold,  even  through  the  clothes,  plus  it  was
unyielding.  He’d  never  felt  anything  like  it  before.  Did  it  have
something  to  do  with  what  he’d  seen  at  the  hospital?  It  was  the
same side as that metal hand.

They went upstairs to Wendall’s rooms, where he waved the

stranger toward one of the chairs set in front of the fireplace. The
night was cool, so he got the steam going to warm the room.

“My name is Wendall. Should you be out of the hospital?”

Wendall went to the sidebar and, after setting the bottle down, he
grabbed two glasses. He poured a finger’s worth of liquor in each
one.

“I’m Abdur.”
Listening closely, Wendall heard a hint of an accent in his tone,

but  he  couldn’t  figure  out  where  exactly  Abdur  was  from.  Of
course, he  wasn’t about to ask the man either. One thing a whore
learned early on his career was not to ask questions of his clients.
They  were  there  for  sex,  and  sometimes  for  a  human  touch,  but
they weren’t there to make friends or anything like that.

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“Here’s a drink.”
After joining Abdur by the fireplace, he handed the man a glass

before sitting across from him. Would Abdur take off his mask to
drink or would he ignore the whiskey? Wendall had a feeling
Abdur had been injured at some point, probably during a battle.
Abdur struck him as having been in the military.

Abdur rolled the glass between his fingers. Wendall sipped on

the liquor, savoring the heat as it burned along his throat to settle
like a warm ball in his stomach. He rested his head back on the
chair and closed his eyes. Abdur probably didn’t want Wendall to
see his scars.

“Would you prefer I turn the lights off? Though I can tell you,

whatever your scars are, they won’t bother me.”

“I’m not sure what I want. It’s been months since I’ve spent

time with anyone who isn’t a nurse, a soldier, or a nun. I just
wanted to feel someone touch me who didn’t see me as an
experiment or a monster.” Abdur shrugged, then shot to his feet. “I
was crazy to come here.”

Wendall caught him before he got to the door. He grabbed

Abdur’s arm, pulling him to a halt. “Wait. You weren’t crazy, and
I was being honest about your scars. Being a whore means I’ve
seen a lot of strange things and people. When you’re paid to sleep
with someone, it’s not like you have a choice whether to say yes or
no.”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel better.” Abdur seemed to be

frowning.

This close to the man, Wendall could smell oil and an odd

metallic scent. He couldn’t tell if it was blood or actual metal.
Without thinking, he laid his hand on Abdur’s cheek, and the man
froze. Wendall didn’t flex his fingers or anything. He didn’t want

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to do anything that would bother Abdur and cause him to run.

An instinct Wendall had learned to trust was screaming that

Abdur was someone who possibly could be very important to him,
as long as he was willing to give the man a chance. While Wendall
knew he would be questioning his actions later on, at that moment,
he would do what his heart shouted.

He pushed up on his toes and brushed his lips over Abdur’s

cheek. If Abdur had stiffened or leaned away, even an inch,
Wendall would have stopped, but a low moan issued from Abdur’s
throat, and Wendall knew the man was starving for human contact.

Making sure not to touch or go below the leather mask, he

kissed his way along his cheek. Wendall pressed his lips to
Abdur’s ear and whispered, “Come back and sit down. We will do
whatever you want, even if it’s simply to talk.”

Wendall stepped back and held out his hand, willing Abdur to

find the courage to take it. Whatever had happened to Abdur had
been traumatic in many ways, yet Wendall knew he was a fighter.
He wouldn’t have made it this far if he wasn’t.

It felt like hours before Abdur grabbed his hand, though it was

probably only a minute at the most. He led the way back to the
couch and, tugging on Abdur’s hand, he got the man to sit next to
him. Wendall made sure to sit on the right side where, as far as he
knew, there wasn’t any metal. He was going to make the night as
good as it could be for Abdur.

“Why are you here, Abdur?” He held up his hand to keep

Abdur from speaking. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be, but I
have the feeling you aren’t supposed to be out of the hospital.”

“In the next few days, they’ll be transferring me to New Island,

and once that happens, I’ll never see anyone again. They’ll use me
for experiments or for spying on New France. I don’t want to do

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either. I simply want to go back to my life.” Abdur shook his head.
“I know that isn’t possible. They made me into a monster.”

Wendall wasn’t prepared when Abdur tore the mask off his

face. He couldn’t stop the gasp from bursting out as his gaze
landed on Abdur’s lower jaw. It was so scarred that Wendall was
surprised Abdur could even talk with how twisted it was. Wendall
had seen scars like that before. At some point Abdur had been very
badly burnt.

“What happened?” Wendall rested his hand on Abdur’s arm,

hoping the man got some comfort from his touch.

“I was part of a New French military unit that got caught in a

firefight  with  some  New  Britain  troops.  I  was  in  the  forward  line
and  tried  my  best  to  avoid  getting  hit  by  cannonballs  or  the  fire
magicians.  None  of  us  realized  you  had  airships,  and  we  weren’t
prepared  for  them.”  Abdur  covered  Wendall’s  hand  with  his
gloved  one,  and  the  unyielding  feel  of  metal  under  the  leather
caused a chill to rush over Wendall’s body.

Wincing, Wendall flipped his hand over and entwined their

fingers. “I’ve seen other injuries caused by airships. We have some
veterans come in with various scars.”

Somehow Abdur managed to show his distain by the mere tilt

of his head.

“I know their wounds probably aren’t as bad as yours, but still I

won’t cringe at the sight of them.”

“Of course, you won’t. You don’t get paid if I’m not satisfied,”

Abdur pointed out.

Wendall shrugged. “That’s true, yet I’m not saying it to make

you feel better. I’m a good whore, but I don’t say things I don’t
mean. It’s doesn’t pay to lie.”

“Not even to men who are going to fuck you?” Abdur didn’t

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sound convinced.

“No, not even to them.” He looked away for a moment. “I

learned the folly of lying to someone.”

Abdur fell silent, and Wendall wondered if the man was going

to decide to leave again. With a soft sigh, which sounded more like
the hissing of steam through pipes, Abdur shook off Wendall’s
touch before starting to strip.

Wendall kept his eyes on the man. He knew he couldn’t drop

his gaze because if he did Abdur would more than likely leave. No
matter how much Abdur seemed to be starving for touch and
someone to care about him.

When the shirt came off, Wendall’s eyes widened at the sight

of a metal plate covering the left side of Abdur’s chest. It looked
like it had been thrust into his skin. Drops of blood seeped from his
scarred tissue.

“That looks like it hurts.”
Abdur shrugged. “It aches, and at times, the pain is unbearable.

The gears under the metal seize up and I have to remove a panel to
oil the gears.”

“That doesn’t sound safe. What gears?”
Wendall didn’t see how it would work. How could metal and

gears work with flesh and bone? Abdur pressed his fingers to a
small square at the top of his chest. A panel popped open, exposing
the inner workings of Abdur’s body.

“How did that happen?” He wanted to reach out and touch

Abdur.

“The fire spell and the airship caught us unawares, and we

burned. All of the others in my unit died. Somehow I managed to
survive, but I’m not sure it was a blessing. I was taken captive by
your army and sent to a hospital. I’m not sure where it was, since I

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was unconscious for most of the journey.”

Abdur sat next to him, giving Wendall a closer look at the

metal, and what he saw almost made him gasp at the ingenuity of
the design, but cringe at how painful it must be for Abdur.

His left shoulder and arm were all metal. Gears created his

joints  where  they  should  be.  It  would  explain  why  there  was  a
slight  scent  of  oil  surrounding  Abdur.  Whoever  created  the  arm
and  shoulder  was  a  craftsman.  It  looks  like  a  skeleton  made  of
steel.

“Who did this? I’ve never seen work like this.”
“I don’t know their names. It was a magician and a doctor. I

wasn’t very coherent when they chose me. I assume I was picked
because I wasn’t expected to live, and it didn’t matter if I survived
the experiments or not. Also, I’m a prisoner of war and have no
family to demand my release.” Abdur gestured with his right hand.
“My injuries were supposed to kill me.”

“I’m not sure I understand how this works.”
Abdur clenched his jaw, and Wendall decided it wasn’t the

right  moment  to  find  out  everything  about  what  had  happened  to
Abdur,  but  it  was  the  right  moment  to  kiss  him.  Wendall  leaned
over to press his lips against Abdur’s. Abdur gasped, and Wendall
took  advantage,  sweeping  his  tongue  into  the  warmth  of  Abdur’s
mouth.

He went to rest his hands on Abdur’s shoulders, but when the

man tensed, he drew back.

“I’m sorry. Maybe you’d like to fix that and take the rest of

your clothes off. I have to go and talk to Russell about something.”
Wendall brushed another kiss over Abdur’s mouth before standing.
He strolled to the door, while tying his robe tighter. “I’ll be back in
a few minutes.”

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He left the room, wanting Abdur to get comfortable before they

moved on to more intimate encounters. Wendall had a feeling
Abdur was embarrassed by his scars and the odd modifications
done while he was recovering from his wounds.

Russell glanced up from the bar when Wendall came down the

stairs. After making a visual check of all the sex peddlers in the
main room and making sure they were all right, Wendall went to
the bar. He braced his hands on the edge of the wooden counter.

“How are things working out with your customer?” Russell

polished one of the glasses with a rag.

“Things are going well, I believe. He’s starved for human touch

and interaction.” Wendall shook his head. “If someone comes
looking for him, tell them he isn’t here.”

“Will people be searching for him?” Russell didn’t sound

concerned.

It was one of the reasons why Wendall had hired the man when

he bought The Pink Carnation. Russell was calm and nothing
seemed to bother him. It was the perfect temperament for a
bartender in New Slum.

“They might, but it could take them a while to get here. Just

make sure everyone knows not to say anything to whoever comes
in here.”

“Yes, sir.”
No one else knew Wendall actually owned the brothel. Most

people assumed Russell was the proprietor, and those assumptions
suited Wendall’s plans.

“I’m going back upstairs. Don’t disturb me unless you can’t

handle it any other way.”

“Yes, sir.” Russell nodded.
Wendall walked one circuit around the main floor before he

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climbed the stairs to the second floor. He paused outside the door
to his suite. Was he prepared to go and sleep with Abdur? Why
was he even asking himself that question?

Abdur was just like every other client Wendall had. There

wasn’t anything special about him, other than his scars. Fucking
him would be like fucking any other man who’d come to The Pink
Carnation.

He opened the door and found his sitting room empty. Had

Abdur left while Wendall was talking to Russell? It was possible
since Wendall had made sure to put a second set of stairs leading
to the back of the building and the alley.

The oddest rush of disappointment flashed through him. Why

would Abdur’s leaving bother him so much? It wasn’t unusual for
men  to  change  their  minds  and  leave  before  anything  happened.
Hell,  most  of  the  men  Wendall  slept  with  didn’t  think  of
themselves as lovers of men. They were simply looking for release,
and  Wendall  was  convenient.  Of  course,  Wendall  was  more
expensive than the run-of-the-mill whore.

A noise from his bedroom caught his attention, and Wendall

strolled into the other room. There he found Abdur sprawled on the
bed, covered by the sheet from the waist down. Abdur clenched the
blanket, showing Wendall how nervous he might be.

“Would you feel better if I turned the lights off?” Wendall

asked.

Abdur nodded. “I haven’t been naked in front of a person who

wasn’t a doctor, nurse or nun since my wounds. I’ve gotten used to
them seeing me because, to them, I’m nothing but an object to be
studied and prodded.”

Wendall smiled before turning the switch, cutting the lights.

Silence filled the room after the hissing of the fixtures died away.

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After stripping out of his clothes and robe, he folded them. He set
them on the chair, taking his time. He started talking.

“My sister, Molly, is at the same hospital as you. She’s on the

terminal ward, unfortunately. I know she only has a few more
weeks left to live, but I can’t give up hope on her. I’m going to
visit her every day from now on.”

He slipped under the blankets and slid his hand over Abdur’s

chest, trying not to touch the edge of the steel section. He had a
feeling that those areas were still very tender.

“How did she get sick?” Abdur’s tortured voice wobbled a little

as Wendall rubbed his thumb over Abdur’s nipple.

Wendall sighed. He didn’t want to talk about Molly, but it was

his own fault for bringing her up. He’d have to continue if he
wanted to distract Abdur away from his nervousness.

“Molly had been spoiled and was a strong-willed child. After

my father died, I had to take over responsibility for her. I’m afraid
I wasn’t a very good guardian. But what can you expect from a
whore? I wasn’t prepared to help her.”

He jumped when Abdur stroked his hair with his left hand.

Either  Abdur  had  forgotten  about  the  steel  or  he  was  comfortable
enough  with  Wendall  not  to  worry  about  how  Wendall  would
react.  Of  course,  maybe  being  in  the  dark  was  freeing  to  Abdur.
His scars were hidden by the darkness.

“I’m sure you did the best you could. You were trying to

survive as well.”

Wendall’s heart melted a little at Abdur’s attempt to comfort

him. Usually, his clients weren’t interested in him or his life. They
only wanted his body to use as they wished and paid for.

“Thank you.” He wiggled closer to Abdur, placing his mouth

on Abdur’s nipple. He licked the hardened nub, teasing it with his

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tongue. After a few seconds, he pinched the flesh between his teeth
to tug on it.

“Oh, my,” Abdur whispered as he shifted his hand to the back

of Wendall’s head, his grip gentle but firm.

Wendall didn’t fight, not caring if Abdur wanted to be in

control.  As  long  as  they  both  reached  the  height  of  pleasure,
Wendall  didn’t  care  who  orchestrated  it.  He  did  push  against
Abdur’s  hand  slightly,  and  Abdur  eased  his  touch,  so  Wendall
could get to other parts of Abdur’s body he wanted to learn about.

Abdur’s skin was warm and firm under Wendall’s lips. His

lover moaned as Wendall trailed open-mouthed kisses down
Abdur’s side, making sure he stayed away from the worst-scarred
parts of Abdur’s body. He knew when he got too close by the way
Abdur would tense.

Dipping his tongue into Abdur’s belly button brought a chuckle

from Abdur, and Wendall smiled. While his laugh sounded a little
tortured, Wendall thought it sounded perfect. Abdur didn’t seem
like the kind of man who laughed a lot, but Wendall wanted to
make him do it more often.

“Please, Wendall,” Abdur pleaded, when Wendall rubbed his

cheek against Abdur’s shaft.

“Yes, honey?” Wendall knew what Abdur was begging for, but

he’d tease Abdur a little more before he gave him what he wanted.

“I need you.” Abdur fisted the sheet next to his hips.
“I know. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.”
Abdur whimpered in protest, yet didn’t do anything to force

Wendall  to  go  where  he  wanted  him.  Wendall  wrapped  his  hand
around  Abdur’s  cock  before  he  licked  the  flared  head.  Abdur
arched  his  hips  off  the  bed  with  a  low  moan  emerging  from  his
throat. Wendall slowly took it into his  mouth, swirling  his  tongue

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around the spongy glans.

He eased down the entire length, relaxing his throat to allow

him in as far as he could. He buried his nose against the bare skin
at the base of Abdur’s shaft. He felt the rough bumps of scars, and
he realized Abdur had been burned over more of his body than
Wendall had thought.

Wendall started moving his hand up and down in conjunction

with his mouth. Each stroke was faster than the last. He fondled
Abdur’s balls, squeezing and tugging them.

“Wendall, I’m going to spill soon,” Abdur warned him.
He let Abdur slide from his mouth and moved away to reach

for the nightstand. “You’re not going to spend in my mouth. At
least not this first time. I think your pleasure will be greater if
you’re inside me when you reach the pinnacle.”

While keeping one hand around Abdur’s cock and pumping,

Wendall found the bottle of oil.

“Hold out your hand. I’ll pour some oil on your fingers, and

you can stretch me.” Wendall paused when a thought hit him.
“You have done this before, haven’t you?”

Abdur managed another strangled laugh. “Yes, I have. With

both men and women. When one is young, one doesn’t fight the
urges and takes advantage of any warm body that’s offered.”

Wendall pulled the cork out of the bottle before pouring the oil

over Abdur’s fingers. After returning it to the nightstand, Wendall
swung around, presenting his ass to Abdur. He sighed when Abdur
rubbed his slick fingers over his hole and then pushed two in.

“Oh,” Wendall gasped, pain and pleasure rushing through him

as Abdur filled him.

Once the uncomfortable moment was over, Wendall took

Abdur’s cock in his mouth. They picked up rhythm, though

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Wendall barely kept track of his lust. He wanted Abdur inside him
more than he’d wanted any other client before. In some silent, dark
part of his soul, he hid that thought away to consider later.

Right before the other spilled, Wendall let Abdur drop from his

mouth, then whirled around. He gripped Abdur’s cock to hold it in
place, while he slowly impaled himself on it. Wendall shivered
when Abdur rested his hands on his hips, and the cool feel of metal
on his skin reminded him of what had happened to Abdur.

It wasn’t the right time to think of that either, so Wendall

lowered himself as far as he could. When he felt the roughness of
the marred skin at Abdur’s groin, he held still. Abdur had been
chewing on his bottom lip, an expression of intense concentration
on his face.

Wendall leaned over to brace his hands on either side of

Abdur’s head. He stared into the man’s dark eyes as he began to
move. Abdur kept a hold on his hips, helping him with each thrust
in and every slide out.

Pleasure built along every nerve of Wendall’s body to pool at

the base of his spine. The sound of their bodies coming together
filled the room, along with the scent of sex. Sweat coated
Wendall’s body as he undulated over Abdur.

“Oh Christ!” Abdur shouted, and liquid heat filled Wendall’s

passage.

Wendall howled as his own release overwhelmed him. His seed

spilled from his cock to coat Abdur’s stomach.

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CHAPTER 3

Abdur helped Wendall ease down on top of him. He ignored

the twinge of pain as the edges where the flesh and metal met
pulled with the extra weight. The sticky, wet feel of Wendall’s
seed between them didn’t bother him either.

At the last second, Wendall flopped to Abdur’s right side.

Abdur moaned silently as he slid out of Wendall’s ass. Hell, that
was the most amazing sex he’d ever had. Was it because he hadn’t
had sex in a long time or was it because of Wendall himself? He
sighed when Wendall curled up next to him and rested his head on
his shoulder.

“How are you?” He ran his hand up and down Wendall’s back,

wishing that the magician who’d tried to modify his body had
figured out a way to give him feeling in the metal skin.

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As much as he missed the sex part of having a lover, he really

truly missed the touch of another human being. Not even the
impersonal touches of his doctor and nurses could feed his need to
feel fingers run over his skin or through his hair.

“I’m fine. Great, in fact.” Wendall nuzzled his face against

Abdur’s chest. “How about you?”

“Best sex I’ve had in a long time.” He laughed. “I shouldn’t

have been surprised, considering you’re the best sex peddler
around here.”

Wendall stiffened in his arms, and Abdur realized how it

sounded. He tried to figure out what to say to make it better, but
nothing he came up with could change what he said.

“I hope you realize I didn’t mean it quite the way I’m sure it

sounded.” He pushed up on his elbows to look down at Wendall.

Abdur stared at Wendall and thought about how beautiful the

man was, with his long, dark hair spread over the white pillows.
Wendall’s lips were swollen and seemed to beg Abdur to kiss him
again.

Ignoring how twisted and scarred his bottom jaw was, Abdur

kissed Wendall lightly. He would’ve stopped had Wendall moved
away, but Wendall gripped his shoulders, drawing him closer.
They embraced, leisurely kissing, while the seed dried on their
skins.

When they broke apart, Wendall grimaced. “Come with me.”
Abdur climbed out of bed to follow Wendall into the adjoining

room. It was a bathing room. Wendall turned on the lights, keeping
them low, which Abdur appreciated. He hated knowing his scars
and freak show-worthy body was on display for anyone to see. Yet
he found he didn’t mind Wendall looking at him.

“Can you get your chest and shoulder wet?”

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“Yes. The plates that cover the gears are waterproof. It has

something to do with the spell the magician used.” Abdur guessed
he had one thing for which to thank the person who did this to him.

“Good. I’ll turn the heaters on and soon we’ll be able to take a

shower. Clean up a little before napping. Then maybe we’ll have
another go-around.”

He liked the idea of seeing Wendall wet almost as much as he

liked the thought of fucking Wendall again.

“Sounds like a great idea to me, though I’ll have to return to the

hospital soon. They’ll be looking for me, and I don’t want to get
you in trouble.” He reached out to trail his fingers down Wendall’s
spine.

Shuddering, Wendall shot him a glance over his shoulder.

“Why go back to the hospital right away? You’re more than
welcome to stay here for as long as you want.”

Abdur shook his head. “When they come looking for me, they

won’t care about who they hurt. I don’t want you or the others who
work here in danger because of me.”

Steam hissed as the water flowed from the showerheads. Abdur

had never seen a bathing area like Wendall’s. There were gleaming
copper  pipes  and  tiles  on  the  floor.  The  mirror  was  flawless,
instead of bubbled and  warped like  most  mirrors Abdur had seen.
Everything  in  the  room  spoke  of  elegance  and  money.  Being  a
whore  must  bring  in  good  money,  yet  Abdur  knew  it  wasn’t
something he would ever consider. He’d need a stronger spirit than
he had to survive as a whore.

He tested the water, finding it to his liking. After stepping

underneath the steady streams, he held out his hand to Wendall.
His lover joined him, and Abdur discovered the joys of bathing
with someone else.

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Once they were finished, they dried off and went back to the

bed. While they were showering, someone had come in, changed
the sheets, and dropped off some food for them. They curled up in
bed to feed each other. After emptying their plates, Wendall set the
tray outside his door before pouring them some whisky.

“You won’t be getting us into trouble, if you chose to stay. No

one will tell them you came in tonight.” Wendall chuckled.
“Contrary to what people believe, those of us who live in New
Slum aren’t all thieves and rats. Most of us will protect each other
because we’re the only ones we can count on.”

Abdur pursed his lips. “I’ll think about it, but staying with you

will only make it harder for me to go back when the time comes.”

“Who says you need to go back? You’re free, Abdur. I’m not

sure how you got out of the hospital without anyone seeing you,
but you can disappear into the Slum, and not one person will turn
you in.” Wendall sipped his liquor.

“I told the Mother Superior that I wanted to rest without

interruption  tonight.  She  made  a  note  so  no  one  at  the  hospital
would  bother  me.  Then  I  knocked  my  guard  out  and  practically
walked out the front door. She’d told me  where you worked, so I
thought I’d come and find you.” Abdur traced circles on the sheet.
“You  seemed  like  a  nice  guy,  and  I  thought  you  were  the  most
beautiful thing I’d ever seen, especially in the midst of all this soot
and darkness.”

Wendall put his finger under Abdur’s chin to lift his face until

their eyes met. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve never had anyone
call me beautiful. Not even my clients have ever called me that.”

“I can’t believe that. Seems a strange thing when you really are

so beautiful to me.” Abdur rubbed his thumb over the brand on
Wendall’s cheek.

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“I’m a whore, Abdur, and while being pretty is an advantage, it

isn’t a prerequisite. As long as I’m willing to get on my hands and
knees, and let some man bugger me, it doesn’t matter how I look.”

The matter-of-fact way Wendall spoke about his life angered

Abdur. He wanted to tell Wendall that he was so much more than a
whore. He was a man who seemed to have goodness in his heart
and a willingness to be nice to strangers. All through Abdur’s life,
he’d rarely come across people like Wendall from any walk of life.
Even the people who were more like him couldn’t be bothered to
be nice to him when they saw his face.

“Does it hurt?” Wendall cradled Abdur’s cheek, his fingers

stroking along the scars on Abdur’s jaw.

“As much as the rest of my scars and this.” He held up his left

hand.

Wendall gripped his hand. “This is so weird. I’ve never seen

anything like it, and here in New Slum we tend to see a lot of odd
things.”

“I’m not sure how the doctors managed to save my life or how

the magician managed to fuse the steel to the bone, but I do know
my body doesn’t like having it there. There are times when the
pain is unbearable and all I can do is take a tincture to ease some of
it.”

Wendall yawned, and Abdur smiled. “It’s late. Why don’t we

get some sleep and maybe before we get out of bed in the morning,
we can go another round?”

“Hmmm…that sounds good.”
Abdur brought Wendall back into his arms, and they entangled

their legs as they settled in for a nap. Abdur marked the moment in
his memory for the long, lonely nights ahead when the military
found and dragged him to New Island.

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* * *

The light grey, soot-soaked sun shone through the windows the

next time Abdur opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling, trying
to remember where he was. It certainly wasn’t his sterile,
unimaginative room at the hospital. This ceiling was painted in
gold and reds, matching the bed curtains and blankets. The sheets
were soft and caressed his skin like a lover.

He was at The Pink Carnation, and speaking of lovers, he

rolled over on his right side to see if Wendall was lying next to
him. The bed was empty, but he could hear someone talking in the
sitting room.

Abdur took his time climbing out of bed. He stretched his arms

over his head, then moved them in circles. It wasn’t just his left
shoulder that needed to be warmed up. While he wasn’t scarred on
his right side, there still had been damage during the battle. At
times, he felt like he was eighty instead of thirty-five.

Wendall peered around the open door and smiled when he

spotted Abdur standing by the bed. “There’s a new set of clothes
on the chair over there. You can clean up if you’d like.”

Sadness danced around the edges of Wendall’s lips, letting

Abdur know they wouldn’t be having sex this morning.
Disappointment wiggled in his heart for a moment, but Abdur let it
go. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t have time at some other point for
that. He’d made the decision to stay with Wendall, instead of going
back to the hospital.

No matter how long he had before the authorities found him, he

would spend it with a man who made him laugh and brought a
sense of normalcy to his life. Wendall might have been gorgeous,
but he didn’t make Abdur feel like a monster.

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Abdur grabbed his clothes before heading to the bathing room.

The heater had been turned on, so there was plenty of hot water for
him to clean with. He washed all the streaks of dried blood off his
skin. While the magician had saved his life and given him a new
arm, the man hadn’t been powerful enough to heal his wounds.
Abdur had been told the flesh would heal in time, but it didn’t look
like it was going to happen any time soon.

Shaking out the shirt, he noticed it had been cut from the

softest  cotton  he’d  ever  encountered.  His  wounds  wouldn’t  be
irritated  like  it  was  by  the  stuff  he’d  gotten  from  the  hospital.
Black  pants  made  from  the  same  fabric  completed  the  outfit.  He
padded  out  into  the  sitting  room,  wondering  where  he’d  left  his
boots.

The bartender from last night stood by the door, as if he’d been

ready to leave. Wendall turned to look at Abdur.

“I won’t be available to the customers for the next couple of

nights, Russell. Make sure the others know and are willing to cover
for me.”

“Yes, sir.” Russell nodded at Abdur, but didn’t ask any of the

questions Abdur could see in his eyes.

“Also, Abdur will be staying with me, as you’ve figured out.

I’ll be giving him the extra key to my suite.”

Abdur blinked, shocked by Wendall’s trust. How did the man

know  Abdur  wouldn’t  steal  his  expensive  things  to  pay  for  his
escape? Of course, Abdur hadn’t thought about leaving New Slum
or New Britain. All he’d thought about  was  having one  last fling
before  he  disappeared  into  the  labs  of  men  determined  to  create
new and improved soldiers.

He’d understood from the moment he awoke in the hospital

what his role was to be. He was the imprisoned laboratory rat. The

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man no one would miss or fight for, so he could be experimented
on with impunity.

“Yes, sir. There are a few business matters we need to go over

at some point this morning.”

Wendall seemed to be thinking for a few seconds before he

nodded. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Russell nodded, then left. After approaching Wendall, Abdur

wrapped his arms around Wendall’s waist, tugging him close. He
nuzzled his face in Wendall’s hair.

“Good morning, honey,” Wendall said, brushing a kiss over

Abdur’s cheek. “I’m sorry we can’t have some more fun right now.
I have the meeting with Russell and I have to get to the hospital.
Mother Superior sent me a message. My sister has taken a turn for
the worse, and I’d like to go see her.”

Abdur eased a few inches away, so he could look into

Wendall’s eyes. “I understand. You do whatever you have to do,
and I’ll hang out here.”

“Why don’t you go and get some breakfast? As long as you

keep your head down—and I’ll give you a scarf to wrap around
your jaw—no one will pay any attention to you,” Wendall
suggested.

Abdur didn’t really want to go outside during the day. Having

people see him in the light was unnerving. His stomach chose that
moment to growl, causing Wendall to chuckle.

“You might not want to go out in public, but I think your

stomach wants some food, and it’ll be good for you to get out of
the hospital for a while.” Wendall gave him another quick kiss
before stepping away from him.

“You’re right. Do you know where I put my boots?”
Wendall pointed in the direction of the door, and Abdur spotted

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his boots next to it. His trench coat hung on a hook above them as
well. He put them on and then was starting to slip into his coat
when Wendall walked up to him. He took the wool scarf Wendall
held out.

“Thank you.”
Abdur stared at the scarf. He wasn’t sure how to wear it so it

would cover his jaw without smothering him.

“Here. Let me help you.”
Wendall took the fabric, and with a few deft twists of his

hands, he got it wrapped around Abdur’s neck in such a way that
his scars were hidden, along with much of his visage.

“There. No one will know who you are, and here in New Slum,

no one will ask either. After you get some breakfast, you can come
back here to eat it. That way you don’t have to take your mask
off.” Wendall stepped into a pair of black silk slippers after putting
on a red satin smoking jacket over his white dress shirt and black
pants.

Abdur tugged on the end of Wendall’s braid. “I’ve only known

you for a day so far and I already know I like your hair down and
free instead of tied back like this.”

“I’m glad, but most of the time, I wear it back because it gets in

the way. I might end up cutting it sometime soon.” Grimacing,
Wendall ran his hand over his hair.

“If my opinion matters, I’d tell you not to do that.”
Of course, his thoughts on the situation didn’t really matter. It

wasn’t like he’d been Wendall’s lover for years or anything.
Sleeping together for one night didn’t make him a personal friend.
He started to turn away, but after Wendall put his hand on his arm,
he froze.

“Your opinion does matter to me, Abdur, and if you like my

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hair this way, I’ll keep it long.”

Wendall’s smile warmed Abdur’s heart, and he grinned back.
“Okay. Do you want something for breakfast? Since I’m

returning here to eat my food.” He checked his pockets to make
sure his money was still there.

Abdur had found it odd that he received coins while he was in

the hospital. It seemed strange they were paying him. Of course,
maybe authorities needed to ease their consciences because they’d
made him a laboratory rat.

“Where is the best place for me to get something to eat?” He

glanced at Wendall. “I need to ask you something, and I’m afraid
you’re going to take it the wrong way.”

Wendall gestured for him to follow him as he strolled into the

hallway. “Go ahead and ask me. I promise not to get upset without
thinking about it first. Also, when you leave here, turn left and
head toward the Dancing Goat. They have a great full breakfast.
I’d like one of those.”

“All right.” He mentally noted Wendall’s order, then plunged

into the murky waters. “What do I owe you for last night? I don’t
want to presume. We just met yesterday, and it’s not like we’re
best friends.”

They were halfway down the stairs when Wendall stopped to

turn around and look at him. Abdur braced himself for Wendall’s
anger or sarcastic reply. He wanted to pay what he owed for the
night spent with Wendall, but he also didn’t want Wendall to be
insulted by his offer.

Wendall rested his hand on Abdur’s chest and stared up at him.

“I know why you asked, but I’m giving you it for free. We are
more than friends, even if it’s only been a day.”

Abdur bit his lower lip, unsure what to say. Wasn’t it too soon

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to  feel  like  he  never  wanted  to  live  without  Wendall?  Yet  it
sounded like Wendall might have the same kind of connection with
him.  He  didn’t  want  to  make  more  of  what  Wendall  was  saying
than  the  man  meant,  but  part  of  him  so  wanted  Wendall  to  want
him forever.

“If you’re sure. I don’t mind paying for your time, especially if

it would help to keep Molly comfortable.” He entwined their
fingers and brought them to his lips. There was no wince or
involuntary tug to get away.

Was his infatuation with Wendall only because the man didn’t

seem disgusted or frightened by his scars and the strange pieces of
metal he had attached to his body? Was there more to his feelings
for Wendall than gratitude toward a beautiful man for being such a
good person?

Shaking his head, Abdur realized finding out the answers didn’t

matter at the moment. He’d simply trust that Wendall would tell
him when it was time for him to leave. He might not even mind
going back to the military, if he had some golden memories to take
with him.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Abdur.” Wendall leaned closer

to press his lips against Abdur’s ear. “I own The Pink Carnation
and a few other shops in New Slum. I don’t need your money,
love. I just need you in my bed.”

Shocked, Abdur pulled away to stare at Wendall. “Really?

Who knows?”

“Only Russell knows I own this place, but he doesn’t know

about the rest. The only other person—besides you and me—who
knows is the only other person I’d trust with my life.”

Who was that other person? And why did just the mention of

him cause a surge of jealousy to race through Abdur? God, he had

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to let it go. It wasn’t any of his business who Wendall trusted and
why. All he could hope was that Wendall continued wanting to be
with him.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Abdur promised. “I should probably go

get our meals while you have your meetings. I’ll be back with
them as quickly as possible.”

“I trust you.” Wendall patted his chest before turning to climb

down the rest of the way.

Russell waited at the bottom of the stairs, holding a key out.

“Here the spare key to your room, sir.”

“Thank you, Russell. I’ll be ready for the meeting in a minute.

Abdur is going to get breakfast for us at the Dancing Goat. Would
you like him to bring you anything?”

“No, sir. I’ve already eaten.”
Abdur touched Wendall on the shoulder briefly before strolling

out  of  the  brothel.  He  turned  left  like  Wendall  had  told  him  and
spotted the sign for the eating-house.  A rather lurid goat stood on
its  hind  legs  with  music  notes  around  its  head.  After  tugging  his
hat  lower,  Abdur  walked  confidently  down  the  muddy  street,
dodging the people who happened to be up that early.

He wondered if there was a special event happening since there

seemed to be more people than he remembered ever seeing out and
about during the day as he looked out his hospital window. He
would have to ask Wendall when he got back to The Pink
Carnation.

Stalking down the street, he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, but

kept his eyes moving from one side to the other. It wouldn’t pay to
become careless. Returning to the hospital right now would be a
failure.

Abdur stepped into the public room of the Dancing Goat. Any

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conversation that had been going on stopped at his appearance. He
pretended not to notice the people staring as he made his way
across to the bar. The barkeep met his gaze and swallowed audibly.

“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes. I need two full breakfasts to take away with me. I’m sure

you can put them in a basket and I’ll see that it gets returned to
you.” He spoke slowly, knowing people struggled to understand
him at times.

With a twisted jaw and his throat ruined by smoke inhalation,

he would never sound like he used to before the war. It was
probably good that he’d rarely talked while he was healing since it
had helped let him keep his voice and his ability to speak.

“Sir, of course, we can do that. It’ll be three coin more though

for the basket.” The barkeep gestured to one of the kitchen maids.
“Put together two full breakfasts in a basket for this gentleman. Do
you have need of anything to drink?”

Abdur frowned, then shook his head. He was positive Wendall

would have something to drink at the brothel. “No. I’m not in any
need of refreshment.”

“All right then. It’ll be a few minutes.”
After paying the man, Abdur turned to place his elbows on the

bar and face the room. He didn’t like having his back to strangers.
The way he was acting, one would’ve thought he had been a spy in
the war, but he’d been a plain old foot soldier. Maybe having spent
the last couple of months as a prisoner brought out his paranoid
suspicions that everyone was out to stab him in the back at some
point.

“I think they’re looking for The Whore,” someone said near

him.

Abdur didn’t react to the words, having heard so many

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whispers about The Whore, yet never getting any more information
than the name.

“Tell me, is there some event or holiday I don’t know about?

The borough seems more crowded than usual.” He shot the
barkeep a quick glance.

Grimacing, the man hesitated, and Abdur didn’t know why he

seemed  reluctant  to  say  anything.  Letting  the  barkeep  think  about
what  to  say,  Abdur  studied  the  people  in  the  room  surrounding
him. They all looked like ordinary Slum dwellers, yet there were a
few  men  in  the  back  corner  who  reminded  Abdur  of  the  military
men he’d seen during the battles.

“People are getting rousted out of bed because the men on New

Island have lost something. Something important it seems, too.”
The barkeep’s voice was low enough that Abdur could barely hear
him. “Not sure if it’s a who or a what they lost, but they’ve been
wandering New Slum all morning. Heard they went into some of
the other boroughs as well.”

That piece of news was a shock. He hadn’t imagined they’d

have thought he went into any other part of the city. Hell, it wasn’t
like he had the coin or the connections to get out of New Slum on
his own. No one left New Slum without papers and passes. Only
those who worked in the big houses in New Queen could leave
during the day.

“Heard tell they think what they’s looking for is around here

somewhere and it’s dangerous as well. Not to be trusted and should
be subdued on sight.”

“Truly? Well, I’m sure their prize will only hurt those that hurt

it,” he said, his warning clear in his tone.

“Here’s your breakfast, sir. Return the basket at your leisure.”
When Abdur turned, the barkeep pushed a covered basket

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CHAPTER 4

Abdur stayed calm as he walked back to The Pink Carnation. It

appeared what Wendall had said about no one in the Slum turning
anyone in was true. The barkeep must have known Abdur was the
one the soldiers were looking for, yet he’d kept his mouth shut and
even warned him about the searches taking place. Abdur would
have to talk to Wendall and see if he had any suggestions for
where he could hide since he didn’t plan to go back yet.

Wendall and Russell looked up when Abdur walked in. Abdur

saw Wendall tuck a piece of paper in his pocket as Abdur
approached them. He set the basket on the table before unwinding
the scarf.

“They are conducting door-to-door searches. I’m sure it’s only

a matter of time before they come here.” He wasn’t scared or

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nervous. Not for himself anyway.

He was worried for Wendall and what might happen to him if

Abdur was discovered in his establishment. After everything
Wendall had done for Abdur, he didn’t want to repay him by
getting him arrested.

“Sit, Abdur. It’ll be a while before they get here. You can eat

and we’ll figure something out for you.” Wendall motioned toward
the chair next to him. “Bring my food over here as well. I’m
hungry.”

Abdur grinned at Wendall’s nonchalant acceptance of the

news. “Are you sure we shouldn’t worry about this first?”

“It’s no big deal, sir. We’ll take care of you and get rid of them

as well.” Russell stood before grabbing the basket to unload it.
Russell also got them some wine to drink.

“You were right about your fellow Slum inhabitants not saying

anything to the authorities. The barkeep didn’t say a word about
who I was.” Abdur took a sip before picking up the fork Russell
had set out for them.

“Of course, he didn’t. Barkowski at the Dancing Goat hates the

government and the military more than anyone else I know of here
in the Slum. He’d rather cut out his own tongue than expose you to
them.” Wendall cut a small piece of his meat pie.

Eating was painful for Abdur, so he took his time chewing. The

food was some of the best he’d eaten since coming to New Slum.
After swallowing, he said, “You were right. This is good.”

Wendall wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin.

“What can I say? I like excellent wine, good food, and gorgeous
lovers.”

Russell snorted, and Abdur rolled his eyes. They finished

eating and then, while Russell cleaned up, Wendall stood to hold

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out his hand.

“Come with me. I have a place you can hide until the soldiers

are done. There will be plenty of things to occupy your time while
in there.”

Abdur wondered at Wendall’s smirk as they made their way

downstairs. He tried not to let his gaze drop to stare at Wendall’s
ass as they went down two flights of stairs to a sub-basement.
There were racks of wine lining the walls and cases of liquor in the
middle of the room.

“You’re going to have me hide in your supply closet?” He

chuckled. “At least, I won’t go thirsty.”

“I trust you won’t drink up my profit,” Wendall joked. “Don’t

worry. You’re going to be even better hidden than that.”

Wendall pushed a brick in the nearest wall and an entire wine

rack swung open. When the door was fully opened, the lights in the
room came on. After stepping inside, Abdur looked around.

It was a beautifully appointed room with small sections of rug

to cover the stone floor and wrought iron lanterns fixed to the
walls. There were chairs upholstered in red velvet, plus a table
covered in a fine lace cloth.

“This is very nice. Do you hide many people down here?”
He turned to glance at Wendall, who leaned his shoulder

against the doorframe.

“No. This is just a secret place, in case I ever needed one. I’m

glad you’re going to be the first to use it. There is food and drink in
the icebox over there. Books for you to read on the shelves in the
corner.”

Wendall pointed out everything, and Abdur noted it as he

walked back to where his lover stood. He cradled Wendall’s face
before pressing his lips to Wendall’s. He swept his tongue into

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Wendall’s mouth, tasting the wine they’d had for breakfast. Abdur
embraced Wendall, getting as close to him as he could with their
clothes still on.

A bell rang somewhere in the wine cellar, and Wendall eased

away from him.

“I have to go up. That was Russell’s signal that the soldiers are

here.  It’ll  take  them  a  while  to  search  the  entire  place,  so  don’t
worry if you’re in here for a  few hours. There’s plenty of air and
actually you can open the door from the inside.” Wendall gestured
toward a lever beside the opening. “I’m going to go to the hospital.
Everyone  thinks  Russell  owns  the  Carnation,  and  that  means  I
don’t  need to be  here  for this  whole  idiotic retrieval operation of
theirs.”

“All right. I hope your sister is feeling better when you get

there. I’ll see you when you return.” Abdur kissed Wendall once
more.

Afterward, he watched the wall swing shut behind Wendall and

he couldn’t decide if he liked the idea of being locked inside a cave
for the next several hours. Yet he didn’t have a choice if he wanted
to stay free.

He went to the shelves and pulled a book off. He might as well

do some reading while he waited.

* * *

Wendall gritted his teeth as he pushed through the crowd of

people.  The  search  parties  were  disrupting  everything  in  New
Slum, and Wendall found it annoyed him. Maybe if they didn’t put
Abdur  in  danger  or  slow  down  Wendall  from  getting  to  see  his
sister,  he  wouldn’t  mind  them  so  much.  It  was  good  business  for

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the brothel. Oh, the soldiers wouldn’t be using any of the whores,
but they would be buying drinks and so would others who’d stop
by to talk about what was going on.

He jogged up the front steps of the hospital. After shoving open

the doors, he greeted the nun at the desk.

“I’m here to see my sister. Please tell the Mother Superior that

I would like to talk to her.”

“Yes, sir.” The sister reached for the convo-box to contact the

Mother Superior.

Impatient to see Molly, Wendall didn’t wait for the elevator.

He ran up all three flights of stairs, barely winded when he reached
the terminal ward. Wendall stopped to take a deep breath before
going into his sister’s room.

Molly might be dying, but he didn’t want her to see him

panicked in any way. She was a smart girl and had to know what
was happening to her. Wendall simply didn’t want her to worry
about him and how he might be handling her death.

“How’s my favorite girl doing today?” He bounded into the

room with a bright smile on his face.

She offered him a weak grin in return. “I’m your only sister, so

I have to be your favorite girl.”

“Not true, my darling. Not true at all.”
He fought back the tears, trying hard to continue to look happy,

while he could tell the toll the disease was having on her body. Her
ravaged face looked almost skeletal. He swore she’d lost more
weight in the twenty-four hours since he’d seen her last.

Leaning down to kiss her cheek, he wrinkled his nose at the

odor coming from Molly. It was a sure sign that she was dying and
her human form was wasting away. Her skin was fragile and dry,
like all life had been sucked from her.

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“You are looking rather…” He paused, unsure how to continue.
“Horrid is the word you’re trying to find.” Her laugh turned

into a harsh cough.

Wendall rushed over to the side table, then grabbed the pitcher

of water to pour a glass for her. After sitting on the side of the bed,
he slid his arm around Molly’s shoulders.

“Lean on me while you drink,” he suggested.
Molly took a few sips before she pushed the glass away.

“Thank you. I can’t seem to get rid of this cough and I haven’t
been feeling good today.”

“Then you must not wear yourself out, love. Would you like

me to brush your hair?” He retrieved the brush set on Molly’s
dresser, then returned to the bed.

After settling back against the pillows, he helped his sister to

rest against his chest. Molly sighed as he ran the brush through her
dull hair. All the tension in her body disappeared slowly with each
stroke, and Wendall started to hum softly.

Memories of so many nights when he would brush Molly’s hair

before she went to bed danced through his head. Their mother had
died when Molly was only three, and while their father was alive,
Wendall could stay home to take care of his sister. Being six years
old, he didn’t want to take care of his little sister. He wanted to be
out playing with his friends, but he didn’t have a choice.

He thought he did a good job, then he turned eighteen and his

father died. Wendall was left having to support Molly all on his
own. It was one of the reasons why he chose to go into the sex
peddling business. The money he could make could keep Molly in
a nice apartment, which being in the Slum didn’t mean much.

Wendall knew Molly appreciated everything Wendall had done

for her, but she’d been swept off her feet by a man who’d promised

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her so much more than she had. Then he left her when he went off
to war, and by then, she was sick. So Wendall had managed to get
a pass to go to New Island, where he found Molly and brought her
home.

Unfortunately, she was so ill, the only place he could take her

was the hospital. He did his best to make sure she was as
comfortable as possible. Wendall glanced down to see that, at
some point, Molly had fallen asleep.

Wiggling slightly, he rested his head against the pillows and

closed his eyes. He ran through his activities for the next several
days to come. There were a lot of things he needed to do, not just
for The Pink Carnation, but for other meetings as well.

A soft cough caused him to open his eyes. The Mother Superior

stood in the doorway, a smile on her face. He waved her in and
then slid out from under Molly. Wendall tucked the blankets
around her before turning to join the nun at the window.

“I’m afraid it won’t be much longer. She’s barely holding on. I

think she wanted to see you one last time before she died.”

Wendall didn’t like hearing that, but he knew she was probably

right. He glanced over his shoulder toward Molly. Each breath she
took barely moved the sheets up and down.

“I know. Thank you for sending me the message. I’ll stay here

until the end.” He took a deep breath. “I need to send out some
notes. Do you have some boys who can deliver them for me?”

“Yes. Certainly.” Mother Superior sat in one of the chairs. “I

was wondering, though. Did a certain patient come to see you last
night?”

“He might have, but I’ll say no more than that.” He paused as a

thought hit him. “Would you have access to a certain kind of oil?
The kind that might be used to oil gears.” He knew he was vague,

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but he had the feeling she knew what he was talking about.

She pursed her lips before nodding. “Yes, I think I could find

several bottles. I’ll have them brought up here for you. Have you
had breakfast?”

“Yes, I ate before I came.” Wendall propped his hip against the

windowsill. “I will need some paper and ink to write my notes.”

Mother Superior stood. “They’ll be right up. I’m sorry about

Molly.”

“So am I, but I must tell you to be ready. I’ve received some

news, and something is going to happen soon, Mother Superior.”

Wendall watched as she paused by the door. He met her gaze,

wanting her to believe what he was saying.

“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yes, the note held information on upcoming

events. Everything I’ve heard and seen has been showing signs of
it. I wanted to let you know, so you can be prepared for whatever
comes.”

“Thank you for the warning. Let me go get those items you

needed.”

After she left, Wendall stayed near the window. He stared

down at the floor, organizing his thoughts while he waited for his
supplies. It wasn’t very long before a young novice rushed in,
carrying a notepad and some pens. Wendall motioned her to place
it on the desk in the corner.

She did so, then turned to nod at him. He smiled his thanks,

causing her to blush. The young lady dashed out of the room.

“She’s probably on her way to tell the other novices about the

handsome man in my room flirting with her.”

Wendall jerked when Molly spoke. After turning, he walked

over to her bed. Her faded blue eyes smiled at him, but he could

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see how tired she was. He caressed her cheek.

“If it makes you smile like that, I’ll flirt with all of them, even

the Mother Superior.”

Molly lifted her hand to lay it against his face. “You shouldn’t

lead them on. They don’t know your interest lies somewhere else.”

“How can they not know? I’m a whore, and not many women

come looking for my services.”

One time he wouldn’t have talked to Molly so honestly, but she

was dying and there wasn’t any need to keep things from her.

“They can hope.” She patted his cheek. “I’ve always known

who your gaze strays toward when we’re in a crowd.”

“I could never really hide anything from you.” He took her

hand to press a kiss on her palm. “I shall miss you, Molly. For so
many years, you were the only thing I had to live for.”

“You were my reason for living. I’m sorry I disappointed you,

Wendall. I know you wanted more for me than a soldier or to die
in a Slum hospital.”

He wrapped Molly in his arms and buried his face in her hair.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t disappoint me. All I’ve ever wanted was
for you to live your life as you wanted, and you did that. No matter
the outcome, you lived as you wished.”

She started to cry, and he rocked her. His tears mingled with

hers as he whispered how much he loved her and that it was okay
for her to go. He’d understand, though he’d miss her.

Exhaustion finally set in, and she stopped crying. Wendall lay

down next to her, keeping her close. She rested her head on his
shoulder.

“Have you found someone to love? I fear leaving you alone,

Wendall.” Her words were soft, yet he could hear the worry in
them.

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He took a deep breath. While he might have strong feelings for

Abdur, he didn’t know if they were love or simply lust and liking.
Did it matter if he lied about their relationship? Molly wouldn’t be
around to find out the truth, so he let his breath out slowly.

“I have found someone, Molly. He’s a marvelous guy and he

cares about me just as much.” Wendall promised himself that he
would tell Abdur what he’d said. Not that he thought Abdur would
care about what he told his dying sister.

“Where did you meet?”
It seemed like Molly really did want to hear about Abdur, so

Wendall told her everything. How he and Abdur had met, and all
the issues Abdur was facing with his modifications. Wendall talked
about how the government and military were looking for Abdur,
and how Wendall was going to keep him hidden from both groups
because he cared for Abdur and didn’t want the man to disappear.

“He sounds troubled, Wendall. Are you sure you want to take

on such a difficult lover?”

Wendall chuckled. “Once you’re gone, I’m going to need

someone who will keep me on my toes.”

“Hmmm…”
Molly was drifting away, and Wendall let her. As much as he

wanted to hold on and not say good-bye, he knew she had to go.
She didn’t have the strength to stay around anymore.

“Good-bye, Molly, my love. Go say hello to Mother and

Father,” he whispered.

She took another breath and slid into unconsciousness. He laid

her down before tucking her in, and then he went over to the desk.
After sitting, he wrote his notes.

The passing minutes were marked by one labored breath after

another, along with the scratch of his pen nub on paper. It wasn’t

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until  he  finished  the  last  note  that  he  realized  there  was  no  more
breathing.  Wendall  climbed  to  his  feet,  knowing  what  he  would
find  when  he  went  to  his  sister’s  bedside,  but  not  wanting  to
acknowledge it yet. As soon as he did, he would be all alone in the
world,  and  just  the  thought  of  that  brought  a  heavy  weight  to  his
chest.

“Here are some bottles of oil,” Mother Superior said as she

walked into the room.

Wendall stood by Molly’s bed, hand resting on her arm. The

empty shell of her body still rested there, but he could tell she was
gone. Whatever kind of spirit inhabited a person and made them
who they were had disappeared from Molly. He bit his bottom lip
to keep from crying. It wasn’t time to mourn. Not yet anyway.

“She’s gone,” he said softly.
The nun joined him at the bedside. She checked Molly’s pulse

before pulling the sheet up over Molly’s face. The Mother Superior
hugged Wendall. He rested his head on her shoulder for a moment,
absorbing the comfort she offered.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Wendall straightened and squared his shoulders. “I know and

I’m sorry as well. She was a good woman who had the misfortune
to be born in New Slum. Just like all of us.”

“We all have that misfortune here.” The nun patted his arm

before heading toward the message tube.

He stayed next to Molly, knowing that the time would be there

soon enough when Molly was completely gone. Novices arrived,
along with Jebediah, who the Mother Superior motioned toward
him.

“Wendall has some notes that he needs delivered, Jebediah.”
Wendall handed the papers over to the young man, along with

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several coins. “Make sure you don’t delay in getting them to where
the messages need to be.”

“Yes, sir.” Jebediah took the items and, after bowing to them

both, left.

“We’ll wash and dress Molly. She left instructions on which

gown she’d like to be buried in.” Mother Superior gestured toward
the desk. “There’s a letter to you as well.”

“Rovish will be by in a hour or so to pick up the body. The

funeral will be tomorrow at ten at the church, if you would like to
come.”

One of the notes he’d sent was to the funeral director to come

and take the body away. Also, it had all the plans for the memorial.
He and Molly had talked about what do when the time had come.
He actually had seen the letter Molly had left him, but he wasn’t
ready to read it.

* * *

When the wall swung open, Abdur glanced up to see Wendall

walk in. He had no real idea how long he’d been in the room. He’d
spent most of it reading. He looked at Wendall and dropped the
book to the floor. After standing, he held out his arms.

With a soft sob, Wendall flew into his embrace, wrapping

himself around Abdur. Wendall pressed his face into Abdur’s
shoulder, and Abdur cupped the back of his head, holding his lover
as close as he could.

“Molly’s dead,” Wendall admitted.
“I’m sorry, love. At least you got to be there at the end.” He

wasn’t sure it was the right thing to say, but he felt like he had to
acknowledge her death. “I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”

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“I told her about you. She was worried I’d be alone once she

was gone. At least she died believing I had someone to love me.”

Abdur smiled at Wendall’s confession. It wasn’t time for him

to say anything about how he felt, but he would make sure
Wendall knew he cared for the man.

“I’m glad she knew about our relationship. I’m sure it eased her

mind.”

He ran his hand up and down Wendall’s back, while kissing his

hair. Wendall’s sobbing slowed as his grief passed.

“Hush. It’ll be all right. Eventually the pain will dull, and

you’ll be able to remember her as the beautiful girl I’m sure she
was,” he murmured. “I wish she never got sick, and you were able
to grow old together.”

“Things like that never happen in the Slum. There are no happy

endings here.” Wendall inched away to meet his gaze. “You can
leave if you want. I have the connections to get you out of the
Slum, and even New Britain. You can return to New France to pick
up your life and forget about everything that has happened to you
here.”

Snorting, Abdur motioned to his face and his arm. “Even if I

wanted to forget, how could I? Every time I look in the mirror or
use my left arm, I’ll remember the war.”

He reached out to grab Wendall’s hand and pull the man back

to him. He stared into Wendall’s eyes. “I’d rather stay here. At
least here I have you for as long as you let me stay.”

“People might think it’s too soon, but I’d rather you stay here

as well.” Wendall lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his
bottom lip in a rather nervous gesture for the seemingly confident
whore. “I really like you, Abdur, and I want to see where this is all
leading, but unfortunately, we’ll be building a relationship in the

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midst of a difficult situation.”

“I know. Your sister’s death isn’t an opportune moment for us

to continue what’s happening between us. You should be focusing
on that.” After raising Wendall’s chin, Abdur began to trail kisses
along Wendall’s jaw.

“Unfortunately, that’s not my main concern. I wouldn’t have a

problem if it was just about her funeral. Things are coming to a
head, Abdur, and possibilities I’ve been working toward for most
of my life are going to emerge soon. Life here in the Slum and all
through New Britain will be changing. I can only hope for the
better.”

Wendall tilted his head, giving Abdur more access to his neck,

and  Abdur  took  advantage  of  it.  He  continued  placing  open-
mouthed  kisses,  and  when  he  got  to  the  little  patch  of  skin  at  the
base  of  Wendall’s  throat,  he  sucked  on  it  gently.  Wendall
whimpered, making Abdur decide Wendall needed a little skin on
skin. He just hoped his metal parts wouldn’t be a cold shock to his
lover when they touched.

He kept his mouth on Wendall, kissing and licking the skin

revealed  as  he  slowly  undressed  him.  By  the  time  Wendall  was
naked,  Abdur  was  on  his  knees  in  front  of  him.  Wendall’s  cock
caught  his  attention,  making  him  want  to  get  a  taste.  He  hadn’t
tried  pleasuring  a  man  with  his  mouth  since  his  injuries.  All  he
could do was try and hope it worked.

Wendall must have sensed his hesitation because he caressed

Abdur’s hair. “Don’t worry. Give it a try, and if it doesn’t work,
then use your hand. Either way it’ll be perfect because it’s you
doing it.”

He appreciated Wendall’s encouragement. After wrapping his

right hand around Wendall’s length, he took just the tip of

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Wendall’s cock into his mouth. His jaw was twisted and at times
painful, but he did have use of it. So he ignored his doubts and
began to suck.

Bobbing his head up and down, lapping up the pre-cum pooling

in the slit of Wendall’s cock and sliding his hand along the length
of  it  as  well.  Abdur  did  all  he  could  to  bring  Wendall  to  the
pinnacle of his desire. His own cock stiffened until it hurt, and he
needed  to  take  himself  in  hand,  if  only  to  keep  from  spilling  his
seed  when  Wendall  spent.  He  wanted  to  push  inside  of  Wendall,
surround himself with the man’s warmth, and feel his body move
underneath him.

Abdur let Wendall slip from his mouth. He looked up when

Wendall whimpered in protest. He stroked his fingers over
Wendall’s hip, soothing him the best he could.

“I want to be inside you when I go over the cliff, love. I want to

feel you tight around me.”

Wendall nodded before walking over to the wall to press

another button. That section slid over, and Abdur watched in
amazement as a bed emerged from the space behind the wall.

“Get undressed. I’ll take care of preparing myself. I don’t want

to wait long to have you take me.”

Abdur obeyed Wendall’s orders, knowing if he were the one to

stretch Wendall, he’d never last long enough to fuck him. Once he
was naked, he strolled over to where Wendall bent over the edge of
the bed, one hand braced on the mattress. He used his other hand to
plunge three fingers into his hole.

Standing there, Abdur watched Wendall and moaned at seeing

how Wendall’s body greedily took his fingers. Wendall shuddered,
making Abdur think he must have hit that special spot inside every
man. The center of what makes fucking so exciting and addictive.

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He lost himself in the undulating beauty of Wendall’s body.

The way his muscles flexed and flowed under his flushed skin.
How the flickering light of the lanterns glistened in the sweat
gathering at the small of Wendall’s back. So gorgeous and almost
unearthly in the way Wendall closed his eyes and let his head drop
forward, riding his fingers like he was on his way to heaven.

“Abdur.”
Wendall groaning his name jerked him out of his reverie. He

blinked, clearing away his stupor to see Wendall holding out a
bottle. Abdur assumed it was oil or something he could use to ease
his way. After taking it, he poured some into the palm of his hand.
He barely remembered to set the bottle on the floor before coating
his cock with the oil.

“Come here.”
Straightening, he discovered Wendall staring at him from over

his shoulder. He was still bent over the mattress, ass thrust into the
air. It was an open invitation for Abdur to sink his cock deep into
Wendall’s body. Abdur wasn’t going to decline such an attractive
offer.

He positioned his cock at Wendall’s opening before gripping

the man’s hips and slowly impaling Wendall. Their groans mingled
as he filled Wendall.

“Oh God, this is just what I needed,” Wendall admitted,

clenching his inner muscles around Abdur’s cock. “I need you to
fuck me hard and fast, Abdur. I want to know I’m alive.”

Abdur was willing to take Wendall at his word. He flexed his

fingers, trying to make sure he didn’t grip too hard with his left
hand. Some bruises were okay, but breaking the man’s hip wasn’t.
Once he was sure Wendall was ready, he pulled out before
slamming back in.

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Wendall grunted, but didn’t pull away. In fact, he pushed into

each  stroke  and  begged  for  more.  Abdur  reached  around,  taking
Wendall’s cock in hand. He  created a tight tunnel for Wendall to
move  through,  and  the  roughness  of  Abdur’s  skin  seemed  to  be
driving Wendall even closer to the edge.

“Oh God, yes. Faster, Abdur. Please,” Wendall begged as he

buried his face in the comforter.

Abdur listened to his lover and started moving faster. He threw

his head back and groaned loudly as Wendall’s passage clamped
down around his cock when Wendall’s climax raced through him.

“Shit!” Abdur shouted as his own orgasm hit him. Three more

thrusts, then he froze deep inside Wendall, his seed flooding the
man’s ass.

His strength seeped away as his desire did the same. Abdur

managed to keep control of his body long enough to get Wendall
on the bed. He moaned as his cock slipped from Wendall’s ass.

“Is there water in the icebox?”
Nodding, Wendall mumbled, and Abdur took it to mean there

was. He stumbled over to the icebox, opened it, and grabbed a jug
of water. Abdur carried it back to the bed where he opened it to
pour some on a cloth. He washed himself and Wendall, then tossed
the cloth onto the floor while shuddering at the chill from the cold
water.

He climbed in beside Wendall, thinking they’d nap for a little

while before making their way back upstairs. Abdur figured
Wendall would like a few hours on his own to digest the loss of his
sister.

Wendall snuggled into his arms, and Abdur buried his face in

Wendall’s sweaty hair. He let all of his stress wash away while he
listened to Wendall breath.

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CHAPTER 5

Wendall stared out the window into the street. There weren’t as

many people out there as there had been yesterday. He didn’t
believe the military was out in force any more, but they were still
looking for Abdur.

The Mother Superior had sent him a note saying the

government  and  the  military  had  been  at  the  hospital.  They’d
questioned  all  the  nuns,  but  no  one  turned  Abdur  in.  Mostly
because  no  one  except  the  Mother  Superior  knew  where  Abdur
might  be  hiding.  The  rest  were  telling  the  truth  about  knowing
nothing.

“Are you ready to go?”
He turned to find Russell standing in the doorway. His

bartender wore his best clothes and dark glasses.

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“I guess so.”
Wendall glanced at his reflection in one of his mirrors. He’d

braided his hair and tied it back with a black silk ribbon. After
tugging on his shirt cuffs, he fidgeted with the black-and-red
striped vest he wore.

“You look fine. I’m sure Molly would’ve loved that vest.”

Abdur appeared in the mirror.

“Will you come with me?” Wendall hadn’t planned on asking.

He understood why Abdur thought staying at the brothel was a
good idea. If the soldiers were out, they might notice Abdur at a
funeral service.

Abdur’s eyes widened, showing his surprise at Wendall’s

question, but he didn’t hesitate.

“If you want me to come, I’ll go with you.” Abdur looked

down at his clothes. “I don’t have the right clothes for a funeral.”

Wendall ran his gaze over Abdur from head to toe. “I think I

have some clothes that will fit you.”

After grabbing Abdur’s hand, Wendall dragged him to his

dressing room. He pointed at the middle of the room.

“Stand there, and I’ll get some stuff for you.”
Abdur smiled, but did as he was told. Wendall pulled a black

silk  shirt  out  before  tossing  it  to  Abdur.  Then  he  dug  through  his
closet  until  he  found  the  vest  he’d  been  looking  for.  Plus  he
unearthed  a  bright  blue  scarf  his  sister  had  bought  for  him  on  his
last birthday.

Wendall turned around to find Abdur finishing buttoning the

shirt. He held out the vest and scarf.

“Here. Molly bought both of these for me, but they should fit

you.”

After taking them, Abdur slipped the vest on. Wendall wrapped

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the scarf around his lower jaw to disguise the scars. He buttoned
the vest, then turned to go to his jewelry case. The pair of silver
cuff links he picked up had belonged to his grandfather.

“Are you finally ready to go? Everyone will be waiting at the

funeral home for you.” Russell peered around the door of the
dressing room.

“They can’t start the service until I get there, but yes, we’re

ready.”

Wendall slid his hand into the crook of Abdur’s arm as they

headed down the stairs. They grabbed their coats from the hooks
before strolling out onto the sidewalk. A horseless carriage waited
for them. He shot Russell a puzzled glance.

“I thought it would be worth the expense so you wouldn’t have

to walk. You won’t have to fight the crowd and worry about
anyone spotting Abdur.” Russell shrugged.

“Thank you,” Wendall said, as he climbed into the back of the

carriage.

Abdur and Russell settled in after him, and Wendall knocked

on the front wall to alert the driver they were ready to leave. There
was some hissing and jerking as the vehicle started to move.
Wendall braced his body against Abdur’s, noticing how Abdur
grimaced each time their shoulders bumped together.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was on your left side. We can stop

at the apothecary on the way home for some pain powder.”

“Don’t worry about me, Wendall. This is about your sister. I’ll

be fine.” Abdur took his hand, squeezing it.

“Yes, we’re going to say good-bye to Molly, but she’s dead.

You’re still alive, and I’m going to worry about you.” He rested his
head on Abdur’s shoulder for a second. “I wonder if there’s some
way we can fix what was done to you.”

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“Do you mean reverse it?” Abdur shook his head. “I don’t

think that’s possible. My left arm and shoulder are metal now, with
gears and hoses. I’m a monster like Frankenstein.”

Wendall rolled his eyes at Abdur’s statement. “You’re not a

monster, but the actual metal wasn’t what I meant. I was thinking
maybe there’s a spell or something that would help with the
meshing of metal and skin, so you don’t bleed all the time or have
to be in pain.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything that can be done about it, but if

you think there might be, I’m willing to listen.” Abdur kissed his
cheek. “I trust you.”

Sighing, Wendall patted Abdur’s thigh. “Thank you for that.

Let me think on it, and I actually have a magician in mind for us to
visit.”

“Joshua?” Russell spoke up.
“Yes. He’ll have to help us if I ask.” Wendall grinned.

“Sometimes it pays to be a whore. You learn a lot of secrets about
people.”

Russell shook his head. “I’m not sure blackmailing a magician

is a good idea, especially if said magician is Joshua.”

Wendall laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on using the

information I have on him, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’ve
had a few clients who I wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail if I wanted
something from them. Joshua isn’t one of them.”

“Good. Joshua might be a little crazy, but he’s not a bad guy. If

anyone can figure out a way to help you, it would him.”

Abdur stayed quiet, yet something in his very silence told

Wendall he wasn’t completely convinced Wendall knew what he
was talking about. Before Wendall could say anything, the carriage
stopped.

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They disembarked in front of the funeral home. Wendall took a

deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and tried to calm his
emotions. As much as he was relieved that Molly’s suffering was
over, he would miss her so much.

Abdur entwined their fingers, reminding Wendall that he

wasn’t alone in the world. He might not have any blood family left,
but he still had people who cared for him. Maybe even loved him.

“I’m all right.”
He walked into the building. One of the workers took their

jackets, and they continued down the hallway to the room where
his sister’s casket was. His friends from the brothel and around the
Slum were already seated, talking softly amongst themselves.
When the priest spotted him, he signaled the musician.

Wendall wasn’t sure how he got through the service. He

couldn’t remember what  was said or even what he said during it.
All  he  knew  was  that  Molly  was  gone,  and  Abdur  never  left  his
side.  Even  when  two  soldiers  showed  up  at  the  cemetery  and
wandered throughout the crowd. All the people from the Slum did
their best to hide Abdur from their sight, and Wendall realized how
many people did care about him.

He tossed a handful of dirt onto the top of Molly’s coffin and

then stepped back to watch as others dropped flowers and dirt into
the  grave.  Abdur  encircled  his  waist,  letting  him  lean  on  him.  He
stayed  strong,  not  letting  his  sadness  overwhelm  him.  Wendall
would  wait  until  they  got  back  to  The  Pink  Carnation  before  he
gave into his grief again.

Last night had been hard, but lying in Abdur’s arms had been

the best thing he could have done. After they’d gone back upstairs
from the safe room, they’d taken a bath and climbed under the
covers. He’d talked about his memories of Molly until his voice

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gave out.

Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of never talking to

Molly again. They would never argue or laugh together. All of this
loss because she’d dared to believe she deserved something better
than living in the Slum. Also, if that bastard on New Island hadn’t
given her the virus, she’d still be with him.

Abdur nudged him, and when he turned to look at him, he saw

Abdur holding out a handkerchief. He took it to wipe the tears
from his cheeks. Twisting it in his hands, Wendall simply nodded
as people walked past him, murmuring their condolences.

“Wendall wanted to let you all know you’re welcome to come

to The Pink Carnation for food and drink. If you can’t make it
today, you’ll be able to stop by tomorrow for the same,” Russell
announced to the crowd.

“Do you want to wait until the grave is covered before we go

back to the brothel?” Abdur asked under his breath, so only
Wendall could hear him.

Wendall shook his head. “I don’t need to watch that. I want to

go and have a drink. Then maybe you and I can go up to my suite.
I think I’m going to need some time alone with you.”

“I’m sure it can be arranged. Let’s head back.” Abdur led him

from the cemetery toward the brothel.

People walked with them, but none spoke to Wendall. He

appreciated their understanding that  he  didn’t  want to talk. When
they  arrived  at  The  Pink  Carnation,  there  were  already  people
milling  about.  Some  of  the  sex  peddlers  who  worked  at  the
Carnation  had  returned  earlier  and  set  out  the  food.  Russell  got
behind the bar to start pouring drinks.

Abdur escorted Wendall to one of the tables in the middle of

the room. After he was seated, Abdur touched his shoulder.

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“I’ll bring you some wine and food. You really do need to eat.”
He wanted to protest and say he wasn’t hungry, but his stomach

rumbled, and Abdur chuckled.

“I was right. Even if you don’t think you could eat a morsel,

your stomach knows better. I’ll return in a few minutes.” Abdur
brushed his fingers over Wendall’s cheek before walking away.

“Sir.”
Wendall looked up to see Yacov, one of his business

associates, standing next to the table. He motioned the man to sit.

“What do you want, Yacov?” He really wasn’t in the mood to

talk business right then, but he understood that life went on,
whether Molly was around to see it or not.

“About the note you sent me yesterday. Are you sure we should

go ahead with it?” Yacov tapped his finger on the table. “I’m not
sure we’re ready.”

Wendall pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“Whether we’re ready or not, it’s going to happen. I had some new
information  brought  to  my  attention,  and  with  the  increased
military presence, you have to acknowledge they are getting bolder
in  their  searches.  Also,  the  governor  and  his  followers  are
determined  to  enslave  us,  though  they  swear  what  they  do  is  to
help us rise above our poverty.”

Yacov nodded, but Wendall could still see his concern.
“I’m not sure everything is in place to make this successful. We

could use several more months to bring our plans to fruition.”

“Yacov, my friend, we’ll never be truly ready for this moment,

but we can’t use that as an excuse not to do it. The steps need to be
taken now.”

“Here you go.” Abdur set a plate of food and a glass of wine in

front of Wendall. “I’ll be over by the bar if you need me.”

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Before Wendall could stop him, Abdur left. Wendall picked up

the fork to stab a piece of meat. He wrinkled his nose at the
thought that this was probably the only meal most of the people at
the Carnation were going to have that day.

“Are you making the decision based on him?” Yacov tilted his

head in Abdur’s direction.

“Yes, and Molly, as well as every other person or child who

lives in the Slum, yearning to be able to leave. Every dreamer who
stares  up  into  the  soot-black  sky  and  wonders  what  the  stars  look
like, or if there is a place where the sun shines so bright they don’t
need lanterns in the  middle  of the  day.”  Wendall leaned forward,
resting  his  hand  on  Yacov’s  arm.  “Do  you  want  to  be  free  or  do
you  want  to  continue  wearing  the  yoke  of  the  wealthy  and
powerful to make them richer?”

Sitting back, Wendall waved his hand around, encompassing

the entire room and everyone in it. “Think of your children, Yacov.
Remember little Peter and how he died at the age of three because
of the disease that incubates in this place. If we had the money to
pay for magicians’ spells or better doctors, no illness would kill
any of us.

“But we’re kept from having the chance to be so much more

than we were born as. If I had children, I’d want a better world for
them. What we’re planning will give them a chance to breath fresh
air and know what the sun feels like on their skin.”

Yacov’s sad expression tugged at Wendall’s heart. He knew

how  much  Yacov  loved  his  little  boy  and  how  Peter’s  death  had
destroyed  the  man  in  some  essential  place  deep  in  his  heart.
Wendall pushed aside his plate before draining his wine glass. He
fought  the  urge  to  throw  the  glass  against  the  wall  and  watch  it
shatter  into  a  million  fragments,  like  so  many  dreams  and  hearts

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had been broken by the ghetto they survived in.

He gripped the stem of the glass and even lifted it to dash it

against  the  bricks.  Cool,  strong  fingers  wrapped  around  his  hand,
stopping  him before he could complete the  gesture. He looked up
into  Abdur’s dark eyes,  seeing understanding and love  shining in
them.

“I think it’s time for you to go and lie down, Wendall. I’m sure

your friends will understand and they can come talk to you
tonight.”

Abdur shot Yacov a glance, and Wendall was surprised when

Yacov  nodded  before  standing.  Yacov  rarely  showed  respect  to
anyone  aside  from  Wendall.  He  didn’t  have  the  energy  to  think
about  what  that  meant.  After  climbing  to  his  feet,  he  wobbled
slightly,  and  Abdur  stood  strong  beside  him,  letting  him  lean
against him.

“I want to curl up in my bed and not move for years,” Wendall

admitted.

“We can arrange a few hours at least,” Abdur murmured as

they made their way through the crowd.

People patted his shoulder or arm, but Abdur didn’t allow any

of them to stop him. Wendall simply gave himself up to Abdur’s
care. He had no doubt Abdur would keep him safe by giving him
the space he needed to start healing.

They got upstairs into Wendall’s suite, and Wendall collapsed,

but Abdur caught him up in his arms. Wendall barely registered
Abdur’s gasp of pain as the man swept him off his feet to carry
him into the bedroom. He whimpered when Abdur laid him down
before stepping away from the bed.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be back. I have to change and wash

up.” Abdur caressed Wendall’s stomach before leaving.

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Wendall rolled over on his side to watch as Abdur undressed.

He saw Abdur grimace while lifting his arms to slid his shirt off.

“Oh my God,” Wendall gasped, while shooting off the bed.
He raced to where Abdur stood, shirt hanging from his hand.

Wendall rested his hand on Abdur’s right pectoral muscle. He
stared at the blood-streaked skin Abdur had tried to hide from him.

“How badly do you hurt?” He grabbed Abdur’s hand to drag

him  over  to  the  bathing  room.  He  pointed  at  the  edge  of  the
bathtub.  “Sit.  I  need  to  wash  this  off.  Do  you  want  some  of  the
pain  powder?  We  have  some  left  here,  or  I  can  get  Russell  to  go
and procure more for you.”

Abdur waved his right hand in a negative gesture. “No. I’m

fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You can’t even lift your left arm now. You

shouldn’t have carried me. I’m skinny, but still I weigh more than
you need to be carting around.”

Wendall searched through the cabinet to find the small

envelope of pain powder they’d gotten the day before. He poured a
tiny amount onto a glass mirror he kept on the counter. After
putting the rest away, he held it out to Abdur.

“The most effective and quickest way for this to work is for

you to breath it in. Lean over, plug one nostril, and sniff. Goes
right into the bloodstream.”

He waited until Abdur did as he said and then he turned on the

faucet to get the water running.

“Wait. Why don’t we run a bath? We can both soak and relax.”
Abdur’s suggestion sounded marvelous to Wendall. He kept

the faucet in the sink running, but turned on the water in the tub as
well. He quickly wet a cloth and began cleaning the trails of blood
from Abdur’s chest. Biting his lip, Wendall tried to keep his touch

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soft.

“I can’t believe they didn’t try to do something about this,” he

muttered as he finished getting the worse of it off.

There were still small beads seeping from the scarred areas

where metal and flesh met. He patted at them, but realized there
was no way he could stop them all.

“I guess they just didn’t see the need for it. It’s not like I’m

anyone important to them. I’m just a prisoner of war, and they’re
trying out new ideas on me.” Abdur shrugged with his right
shoulder.

The tub was half full, so they stripped before slipping into the

hot water. Wendall moaned as the hot water started to relax his
tension immediately. He wiggled and shifted until he rested back
against the right side of Abdur’s chest.

Abdur embraced him, and he laid his head on Abdur’s right

shoulder. When the water was high enough, he watched as Abdur
somehow managed to turn it off without dislodging him.

“You said you might know a magician who could possibly be

able to help me,” Abdur spoke after a few minutes of silence.

Wendall nodded. “Yes. Joshua is the most talented magician in

all of New City, that I know.”

“But he lives here in New Slum? I would think a magician like

him would be in New Upper or even part of the military on New
Island.” Abdur traced a circle on Wendall’s stomach.

“Joshua has other problems, but his magic isn’t one of them. If

anyone can figure out how to make it better for you, Joshua can.”

Abdur hummed softly for a moment. “Like I said, I trust you.

We can go talk to Joshua whenever you want.”

“Maybe later on today.” Wendall wasn’t interested in moving.

He wanted to stay in the tub, surrounded by Abdur’s arms, for as

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long as possible.

“Whatever you want.”
He felt Abdur kiss the top of his head, and he sighed. Never in

his  entire  life  had  he  felt  as  safe  as  he  did  right  then.  Wendall
drifted,  letting  all  his  thoughts  and  worries  float  away.  The  time
was  fast  approaching  when  he  wouldn’t  have  a  chance  to  relax
with his lover. He knew, within the next day or so, he’d be running
for  his  life,  and  the  world  as  he  knew  it  would  be  different,  but
maybe  Abdur  would  be  willing  to  go  with  him  and  his  life
wouldn’t be so lonely.

It wasn’t until the bathwater grew cold and Abdur shifted

underneath him that Wendall came out of his trance. He couldn’t
find the energy to do anything for himself. He allowed Abdur to
help him out of the tub before drying him off. Then he followed his
lover into the bedroom, where he curled up under the blankets.

Wendall listened as Abdur moved about the room. Hearing the

rustle of fabric, he assumed Abdur was picking up their clothes.

“Leave them. Come hold me,” he demanded.
Abdur’s soft chuckle warmed Wendall’s heart. “Yes, sir.”
He whimpered slightly when a cool breeze washed over him as

Abdur slipped into bed. Abdur wrapped his arm around Wendall’s
waist, tugging him tight against him—back to chest.

Wendall tangled the fingers of his hand with the metal fingers

of Abdur’s. He didn’t care that they weren’t real skin. Even their
cool touch gave him comfort and a sense of belonging to someone.

Abdur kissed the nape of Wendall’s neck, while slowly trailing

his fingers over Wendall’s chest. Wendall didn’t resist, but he
didn’t participate either. He simply welcomed and needed Abdur’s
every caress and stroke.

“Hmmm…” He hummed softly as Abdur reached down

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between his legs to encircle his cock.

Desire built like a tidal wave started by a tiny pebble being

throwing  into  the  ocean.  Its  ripples  emerged  in  small  ways,  then
grew  and  twisted  until  the  wave  overwhelmed  everything  in  its
path. Wendall  gave himself over to  Abdur, letting  his lover  move
him any way he wanted.

With some nudges and prods, Wendall rolled over to lie on

Abdur’s chest. He loosely wrapped his arms around Abdur’s
shoulders, moaning as Abdur pressed his fingers into his ass.

“That feels good,” he murmured, pushing back lazily.
“I hope it does. No point in doing it if it hurts,” Abdur teased

him while continuing to stretch him.

“A little pain once in a while isn’t a bad thing.” Wendall kept

his eyes closed.

Abdur’s fingers disappeared from Wendall’s hole, causing

Wendall to grunt in protest. He practically purred when Abdur
stroked his fevered skin with his chilly metal fingers.

“Sit up, Wendall.”
He braced his hands on Abdur’s chest, barely remembering to

watch  where  his  left  hand  touched.  He  didn’t  want  to  cause  his
lover  any  more  pain.  As  he  sat  up  and  back,  he  gasped  when
Abdur’s cock breached his ass, slipping in  without any hesitation
from him.

Once Abdur was seated as deep into Wendall as he could get,

Wendall  paused  to  meet  Abdur’s  gaze.  There  was  so  much
emotion shining in his eyes that Wendall swallowed hard. No one
had  ever  looked  at  him  like  that,  not  even  his  sister  or  father.  It
seemed  like  nothing  else  existed  for  Abdur  but  Wendall  and  the
moment they were in the middle of.

“I never thought I’d find anyone like you,” he confessed,

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cradling Abdur’s scarred jaw. “You see the real me, not the whore
mask I wear.”

“You are a combination of both, Wendall. Neither one

completely defines you. I love all your aspects because they’re
what created the person you are right now.” Abdur shrugged.

Love? Could that be what Wendall felt toward Abdur? Had he

somehow fallen in love with this stranger? He considered talking
more about what Abdur had said, but Abdur lifted Wendall off his
shaft, then without waiting to get agreement, he surged up into
Wendall while lowering him.

The sharp slap of skin on skin and the sudden fullness drove a

gasp from Wendall, and he forgot everything he wanted to talk
about. Hell, he even forgot his name as Abdur fucked him harder.

Wendall let his head fall back, being swamped by lust. Each

stroke  nailed  the  special  place  inside  him  that  shot  electricity
through  his  body  and  made  him  cry  out  in  pleasure.  He  wasn’t
ready  when  his  climax  exploded  from  him,  coating  Abdur’s
stomach.  Wendall’s  vision  blurred  as  he  collapsed  into  Abdur’s
arms.  He  didn’t  control  his  body  to  help  Abdur  achieve  his  own
release.  Thank  God,  Abdur  was  close  to  the  edge  as  well.  A  few
more  thrusts  and  Abdur  shouted  as  he  spilled  his  seed  into
Wendall’s passage.

Once their hearts and breathing calmed down, Abdur carefully

pushed to his feet, holding on to Wendall. When Abdur’s cock slid
out,  Wendall  moaned  at  the  feel  of  Abdur’s  spend  trickling  over
his  thighs.  Breathing  deeply,  he  leaned  against  Abdur  while  the
man  led  him  to  the  shower  to  rinse.  They  cleaned  up  before
climbing out to dry off.

A knock sounded on the door as Wendall and Abdur were

making their way back to the bed.

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“I’ll get it,” Wendall said.
“All right.” Abdur continued to the bedroom.
When he opened the door, he found Russell standing there. His

bartender didn’t blink at Wendall’s naked body.

“I wanted to let you know that everyone has left, except for

customers. I’m pretty sure there will be some returning later,
though.” Russell smiled. “Is Abdur taking care of you?”

“Yes. Now please leave me alone. We’ll be down in a few

hours. I need some rest.” Wendall gave Russell a small smile.

“Of course, sir.” Russell nodded before turning to head back

downstairs.

He shut the door and then locked it. Not that anyone would

enter his suite uninvited, but he didn’t want to be bothered. He
joined Abdur under the covers, where he wrapped his arms around
his lover.

Why was sex different with Abdur than with any client he’d

ever  had?  Was  it  because  of  the  emotional  connection  between
them?  While  Wendall  had  liked  most  of  his  clients,  he’d  never
come  so hard or so fast as he did with  Abdur. Of course, none of
the  men  usually  stuck  around  after  they  came.  Wendall  didn’t
really know any of them either.

Abdur was the first man Wendall really wanted to spend time

with, and how strange that they’d only just met. He glanced at his
lover when Abdur shifted slightly. Abdur’s wounds were seeping
blood again, and Wendall vowed to do what he could to fix the
problem before they had to leave.

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CHAPTER 6

“Boss, they’re looking for Abdur. The military made an

announcement over the convo-boxes to keep a lookout for him.
Also, they’re going to institute a curfew on all of us in New Slum.
They’re positive he’s still here,” Russell told them as soon as they
made an appearance downstairs.

“What’s the feeling in the Slum?” Wendall sat down at the bar.
Abdur stayed in the shadows as much as possible, not wanting

anyone to glance into The Pink Carnation and spot him. It was
time to leave, but Abdur didn’t want to return to the hospital, so he
had to think of a different way out of New Britain.

Russell shrugged. “Low-level frustration, but if things get

worse and more soldiers come into the Slum, I’m sure there’ll be
some kind of armed conflict.”

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“I can’t let that happen. I’ll turn myself in before I let anyone

get hurt on my behalf,” Abdur spoke up.

Wendall glared at him. “You will do no such thing. I have a

plan in place and it’s already been put into action.”

Well, if Wendall had an idea of what to do, Abdur wasn’t going

to argue with him. As long as it didn’t include anyone sacrificing
himself or herself for him, he was fine with whatever Wendall
came up with.

“We’re going to head over to Joshua’s place. I need to discuss

something with him.” Wendall stood, then gestured for Abdur to
follow him.

“All right.” Russell nodded at Abdur. “Good luck.”
He fervently prayed for luck as well. Abdur wasn’t sure they

would need it, but asking never hurt anyone. He wound his scarf
around his neck and jaw before they left the brothel.

Walking arm in arm down the street was difficult while

dodging soldiers and freight trolleys, but he managed not to lose
contact with Wendall. The mood of the Slum was sullen and even
rather angry. For the first time, Abdur began to get an idea of how
big a powder keg the situation could be. One wrong move by either
side and the whole place would blow.

“Is this what Russell was talking about?” Abdur kept his voice

soft, so no one would be able to overhear their conversation.

Wendall nodded. “It hasn’t been this bad, but there haven’t

been so many soldiers in the Slum. I’m afraid the general is using
finding you as an excuse to take over the Slum, then it’s only a
matter of time before all of New City falls.”

“How do you know this?” Abdur thought for a moment. “Is

that what the general wants?”

“Yes. We often don’t feel it as much here in New Slum, simply

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because we’re too poor for anyone to really bother with us. The
general and the governor have been fighting over control of New
Britain, and everyone knows the most important cog is New City.
Things are coming to a head, but I’ve got everything covered for
the Slum.”

Abdur looked at Wendall. “You do? How does that work? How

could a whore do that?”

Wendall chuckled. “I’ll tell you about it later. We’re here.”
He studied the ramshackle apartment building that definitely

had  seen  better  days.  Paint  peeled  from  its  wooden  sides  like  his
burnt  skin  had  peeled  from  his  flesh.  Abdur  searched  the  area
around  them,  and  if  there  was  a  more  dangerous  section  of  New
Slum, he had a feeling they were in it.

“Let’s go in. I don’t want to hang out here any longer than

absolutely necessary.”

He couldn’t agree more. Abdur followed Wendall into the

dingy  building,  not  sure  he  wanted  to  know  what  lurked  in  the
shadows  of  the  hallways  they  walked  through.  He  stayed  close  to
his  lover,  though  he  knew  Wendall  could  take  care  of  himself  if
attacked. Wendall might look fragile and too pretty to drop a man,
but Abdur had seen how the man had defended himself.

“Why are we here?”
Sure, he should have asked a while ago, but he’d been so

caught up in trying to figure out a way out of New Britain. He
needed to leave, and while he wanted Wendall to go with him, he
didn’t know if Wendall would. There wasn’t anything holding
Wendall to New Slum any more with Molly gone.

“This is where Joshua lives,” Wendall replied, not looking back

at him.

Abdur reached out, grabbing Wendall’s arm and pulling the

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man to a halt. While he didn’t want to linger in the dark hallway,
he did want to know what Wendall was doing before they met with
whomever they were going to see. “He lives in this dump? I
thought he was a good mage.”

Wendall cupped his cheek, and he didn’t wince or duck away.

Over the week they’d been together, maybe Abdur had gotten used
to Wendall’s touch…or maybe he’d simply decided it didn’t matter
anymore. There was nothing he could do to change how he looked
or fix the metal making up parts of his body.

“Yes, he lives here and, as I said, he’s the most talented mage I

know. He stays here because it keeps the government and the
military away from him. I think he’ll know a way to fix the spell
that attached the metal to your flesh. I want him to take the pain
away.” Wendall brushed a kiss over Abdur’s lips.

“I need to be thinking of ways to get out of New City, and

possibly New Britain. I can’t stay here much longer, Wendall.
Someone will eventually figure out who I am. Living in New Slum
is hard. So sooner or later, the money the military offers for bribes
will overcome any respect or love they have for you. Someone will
give them a tip about where to find me.”

Abdur wasn’t worried about himself. Whatever happened to

him happened, but it was Wendall he didn’t want arrested by the
military. His lover should never be touched by blood and violence.

He wrapped his arms around Wendall’s slender waist, pulling

him tight against his body. He buried his face in Wendall’s hair
with a sigh.

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” he admitted

softly.

Wendall held him closer. “Don’t worry. No one’s ever going to

part us. I have a plan, Abdur. You just have to trust me to get us

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through this.”

Nodding, Abdur eased away, meeting Wendall’s gaze. “How

can I not trust you? Hell, I let you see all of me the first night we
were together. I can’t believe it’s only been a few days, yet I feel
like we’ve always known each other.”

Another kiss and a smile from Wendall. “I love you, too,

Abdur, and I never thought I’d get a chance to tell a man that. I
thought being a whore meant I’d be alone the rest of my life.”

“And I thought being made into a monster would keep me from

finding a lover.”

They grinned at each other before Wendall swung around to

head down the hallway. Abdur followed closely behind, keeping
his hand on Wendall’s back, not willing to let the man get too far
ahead of him.

Wendall stopped at the last door on the right before knocking.

Abdur wasn’t sure a mage would help him. He’d gone through all
the pain from the last magic user who hadn’t been concerned with
how Abdur had felt during the entire process of melding the metal
to his flesh and bones.

He knew the man’s indifference to his agony shouldn’t have

surprised him, since most mages in the military weren’t the best.
The most talented ones were paid large amounts of money by the
rich to be their own personal magicians.

“Who is it?” someone squeaked from the other side of the door.
“Why don’t you use your powers to find out?” Wendall rolled

his eyes at Abdur.

“I don’t use them without getting paid. You know that.”
“How would I know that?” Wendall obviously enjoyed teasing

the person on the other side of the door. “I might not be who you
think I am.”

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Abdur heard locks being unlocked, then the door was jerked

open. Abdur blinked when the speaker was revealed—a truly
beautiful man with long, bright red hair and deep green eyes.

“Get your ass in here, Wendall, and bring that truly gorgeous

man next to you as well.” He whirled around, not even doubting
they would come into the apartment.

Chuckling, Wendall dashed into the room and swept the mage

into his arms, swinging him around until the man squealed loud
enough Abdur thought his ears were going to bleed.

“Put me down, you lout.”
“Ah, Joshua, you love me.” Wendall set Joshua back on his feet

before placing a big kiss on the man’s cheek.

Joshua pushed Wendall away, then turned to study Abdur, his

eyes trailing from his head to his feet, and Abdur felt like he’d
been stripped naked.

“Who is this intriguingly handsome man? Did you bring me a

present?” Joshua licked his lips.

Wendall shook his head, while moving toward Abdur. “No,

honey. This one’s all mine.”

“Well, damn.” Joshua pouted for a moment. When he didn’t

get any reaction from them, the mage propped his hands on his
hips and scowled. “What the hell are you doing here then?”

“We need your help.” Wendall patted Abdur’s arm. “Show

him.”

“Like he can’t see from my face,” Abdur muttered, reluctant to

take any of his clothes off in front of Joshua. Hell, the only person
he liked being naked in front of was Wendall. He’d never be
comfortable with anyone else seeing him.

Joshua’s eyes lit up, and Abdur swore the man licked his lips.

“I need to see the whole thing, if I’m to help you.”

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Abdur sighed and started unbuttoning his shirt. Thank God the

metal only went to the top of his hip and not any farther down. He
didn’t want to drop his pants around Joshua.

“Hmm…” Joshua gestured for Abdur to come closer. “I need

you more in the light. What do you think I can do for you,
Wendall?”

Abdur eased nearer to Joshua, trying not to cringe when the

mage traced the edges of the metal part of his shoulder and chest.

“The mechanics of the parts amaze me. Whoever created these

is a genius,” Joshua murmured, studying the areas where the steel
had been used to replace sections of Abdur’s body. “Bend your
arm.”

He did as Joshua demanded, and the gears hissed softly as he

moved. Abdur no longer thought about the sounds. He’d gotten
used to them over the months of learning to deal with the pain of
his wounds and the weight of the steel.

Joshua pushed Wendall out of the way as he investigated all

angles of Abdur’s body. Abdur kept his gaze on Wendall, trying
not to feel like a freak.

“What exactly do you want me to do for you? I can’t take these

pieces off. They’ve been fused to his bones, rather poorly in my
opinion.” Joshua brushed his hair over his shoulder in a rather
disgusted manner.

“That’s what we’re here for. I know you can’t remove them,

but I was wondering if you knew a spell that would fix it. Maybe
smooth the edges or make it less painful to have them.” Wendall
caressed Abdur’s right shoulder.

Joshua hummed softly as he continued to examine Abdur, and

Abdur closed his eyes, letting the mage run his hands all over him.
When Joshua started to trail his hand up Abdur’s leg toward his

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crotch, Abdur opened his eyes and stepped back.

“There isn’t any need to go there, friend.” He shook his head.
Wendall pinched Joshua’s side. “You need to watch yourself,

Joshua.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Joshua stepped back and waved his hand at

Wendall. “What are you going to give me for helping you?”

Wendall’s smirk must have alerted Joshua to something

because the mage shook his head.

“I should’ve known that night would come back to haunt me.”
“You owe me, Joshua, and this is the way you can make things

even between us.”

Abdur didn’t know what Joshua’s debt was and he made a

mental note to ask Wendall about it after they left the mage’s
apartment. He caught the shirt Joshua threw at him.

“Come back tonight and I’ll have an answer for you.”
“You can’t do anything right now? We have to get out of New

City as soon as possible.”

Abdur tried not to get upset when Wendall helped him button

up his shirt. He understood his lover wasn’t thinking about what he
was doing. Wendall was only focused on them getting out of the
city before the military found them. Abdur had no idea where they
could go, though.

While he dressed, he thought about going back to New France,

but north would be the first direction they’d look for him. Also,
there wasn’t anything left for him in New France. He didn’t have
any family, and his friends in his unit were killed during the battle
that injured him.

“All right. We’ll be back after sunset tonight,” Wendall told

Joshua. “I expect you to have an answer, or at least be able to tell
us whether there is a spell to help with this.”

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Joshua nodded. “Trust me, Wendall. I can give you what you

want. Have to admit it makes me angry to see such shoddy
workmanship. Any mage worth his coin should have done a better
job.”

“Thank you.” Abdur wasn’t sure he wanted to endure another

session of spell work. He winced when the gears in his shoulder
ground against each other. He shot Wendall a glance.

With a quick nod, Wendall hugged Joshua before leading the

way out of the mage’s apartment. Abdur stayed close again,
keeping his gaze moving from side to side because they were
spending way too much time out and about in New Slum, and the
clock was ticking.

They paused just inside the building to pull the hoods of their

cloaks over their heads. Abdur settled his scarf over the lower half
of  his  face,  not  wanting  to  give  anyone  a  good  look  at  his  jaw.
People  in New Slum  wouldn’t pay attention to cloaked  men, and
he’d  discovered  they  really  wouldn’t  draw  attention  to  him  since
most of them probably had figured out who he was.

“Are you ready?” Wendall glanced over at him.
“Yes.”
“All right. Follow me. We have a few other places to go before

we come back here.”

Abdur took Wendall’s hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I’ll

follow you wherever you want to lead. My life is in your hands.”

Wendall lifted Abdur’s hand to his mouth, then brushed a kiss

over his knuckles. “As mine is in yours. Together we’ll get out of
this place. Maybe we’ll find a good spot to settle down.”

“Do you have an idea where we’ll go?” He was asking about

after they left New Slum, and Wendall must have known that.

“We’re heading out west. I want to go to the Spanish

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territories, and that’s going to help us.”

Wendall tugged on his hand as he stepped from the building

out onto the dirt walkway next to the brick street. Abdur let go of
Wendall’s hand once they were outside. It wasn’t that he was
ashamed of his lover, but he wanted to have his hands free in case
someone came after them. He rested one of his hands on the hilt of
his knife strapped to his thigh and kept his eyes open.

“Are you sure going west is the best idea?” He made sure his

voice was low, not wanting anyone to hear their conversation.

Not that there were a lot of people out during the day in New

Slum. Most of the residents did their work at night, so they slept
the day away.

“It’s the best option for us at the moment. When we get far

enough west, we can turn north and slip across the border into New
France, if you wish to return.”

“There’s nothing there for me anymore. You’re my world now,

and I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

He wasn’t prepared for Wendall to whirl around and embrace

him. Abdur felt Wendall’s warm breath through his scarf.

“I never thought I’d have someone to spend time with. At least

someone who isn’t paying me to have sex with him.”

Abdur pushed Wendall’s hood back a little, so he could meet

the man’s gaze. “I don’t want to be with you just because of the
sex. I mean, that part is marvelous, but it’s not the only thing I love
about you.”

“I know, and that’s why I love you. Your willingness to accept

me being a whore and not judge me for the choice.”

Wendall rested his forehead against his, and Abdur closed his

eyes. He absorbed Wendall’s touch and presence, enjoying their
brief moment of intimacy. He wished they had more time to just be

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together, but everything was moving so fast.

“If you’re going to be doing something, I’ll give you five coins

to watch.”

The whisky-roughened voice broke them apart, and they took

off without even acknowledging the person who had spoken.
Abdur strolled behind Wendall, glad Wendall’s cloak covered his
ass, so it didn’t distract him. His shoulder ached and so did his
head.

A few blocks later, Wendall turned to climb a set of stairs

leading  up  to  the  dingy  yellow  door  of  a  narrow  brownstone.
Abdur  waited  at  the  bottom  while  Wendall  knocked.  He  didn’t
know why they were stopping, but he wasn’t about to question his
lover.  Ever  since  he’d  met  the  man,  Abdur  had  the  feeling  there
was more to Wendall than a highly successful whore.

The door opened a crack, and Wendall spoke quietly to

whoever stood on the other side. A few seconds later, Wendall
gestured for Abdur to join him, then they slipped inside. Abdur
quickly glanced around, gauging where the exits were and how far
away they were from him.

“Why are you here?”
He turned his attention to the petite blonde woman near

Wendall. She was completely focused on his lover, seemingly not
worried  about  Abdur’s  presence.  The  slight  creak  of  leather  on
wood  brought  Abdur  around  to  spy  four  men  standing  in  the
corners  of  the  room,  guns  held  loosely  in  their  hands.  He  should
have been worried, yet something about their stances told him they
weren’t a danger to him or Wendall.

“Do you remember the plans I discussed with you last year?”

Wendall pulled a piece of paper from inside of his cloak.

“Yes, sir.” She took the paper from him. “I’ll make sure

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everything is ready and where you want it to be. What time?”

“At midnight. We have to leave New City.”
Abdur didn’t move when Wendall rested his hand on Abdur’s

arm. The woman looked at him and jerked when she saw his face
was covered.

“Don’t worry. He’s mine.”
He tried not to grimace at being called Wendall’s because, in a

way, it was true. He was Wendall’s, heart and soul. Yet he didn’t
like the implied tone of ownership. Maybe it was because he knew
the New Britain military thought of him as their property. They
would use him until he died or there was nothing left in him to
give.

His head started to pound and he really wished they could find

somewhere to hide, so he could lie down and close his eyes. His
right eyelid started to twitch as well.

“Certainly, sir.” She handed the paper to one of the men. “Your

supplies will be at the meeting point when you get there.”

Wendall bowed slightly before turning to the door. “Thank

you.”

Abdur nodded at the woman, then followed Wendall out the

door. He didn’t question him as they continued down the sidewalk
toward The Pink Carnation until they reached the corner where the
brothel was located. A large crowd of soldiers milled around near
the entrance.

“We aren’t going to be able to get inside now.”
“True, but we aren’t going in the brothel. Stay with me, and

you’ll see where we’re going.”

Wendall turned to the right, heading in the direction of the back

of the building. After entering the alley, Wendall strolled through
the garbage and Dumpsters, seemingly able to ignore the rank

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smells hanging low in the air. Abdur ground his teeth, fighting the
urge to vomit. He had to keep it together, and really, it wasn’t like
it was any different than the shit he smelt on the battlefields.

Wendall bypassed the door leading into The Pink Carnation

and  went  to  another  door  farther  down  the  alley.  Abdur  turned
slightly  to  keep  an  eye  on  both  ends  of  the  alley,  while  Wendall
fumbled  with  the  knob.  He  jumped  when  Wendall  tapped  him  on
the shoulder.

“Come with me.”
They slipped into the darkened hallway. Abdur shut the door

behind them as Wendall continued farther into the room. Several
men sat around a table covered with cards and coins. Cigar smoke
mingled with the soot to coat everything in the place. Soft hissing
filled the air from the steam lanterns hanging on the walls.

They all rose to their feet as Wendall approached them. Even

though every part of his body ached, Abdur shot around to put
himself between the men and Wendall. He assessed each man,
searching for weaknesses and weapons.

“No, it’s all right, Abdur. They won’t hurt me. Actually, they

all work for me.”

“Work for you?” Abdur didn’t relax. It didn’t matter if Wendall

wasn’t worried about the others; Abdur wasn’t going to trust them.

“Yes.” Wendall pushed around him and then headed toward the

table.

“What are you doing here?”
The speaker was a huge bald man with knife hilts bristling

from every possible place. His bright blue eyes stared at Wendall
with what Abdur swore was respect and awe. It was the same man
Wendall had talked to at the memorial luncheon earlier that
morning.

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“I’ve come to tell you it’s time.” Wendall braced his hands on

the edge of the table, meeting each man’s gaze with his own.

The tension in the room became so thick Abdur could almost

cut it with his blade. He stepped forward to rest his hand on
Wendall’s back, ready to yank his lover out of the way if any of
the other men made a move toward him.

“Are you sure?”
Wendall nodded. “Yes. I’ve come into some information.

Within the next four days, the military will be moving into the
boroughs. The generals wish to declare martial law in New Britain
and take over from the governor. It’s time to put our plans into
motion.”

“All right.” The bald man grabbed the guy closest to him and

shook him slightly. “Jacon, take Simpa and start spreading the
word. They must gather at the meeting place.”

Jacon nodded before gesturing for one of the other men to join

him as he went out of the room. Wendall didn’t say anything, and
Abdur couldn’t begin to understand what was going on.

“What about you, sir?”
Wendall reached out for Abdur, and he took Wendall’s hand.

“I’m going west to see if we have any allies interested in helping
us.”

“And because the military will be looking for this one.” Baldy

nodded toward Abdur.

Abdur tensed, ready for whatever might come. No matter how

much respect they seemed to be giving Wendall, Abdur didn’t trust
them. They didn’t look like honest men. He snorted silently. Most
of the people living in New Slum were there because the
authorities wanted them.

“Yes,” was all Wendall said.

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“All right, sir. You’re the one in charge. We’ll get everything

in motion.” Baldy studied them for a moment. “Why don’t you rest
for a bit in one of the back rooms? No one will bother you, and I’ll
leave one of the boys here to keep guard.”

Wendall looked at Abdur, who simply looked back. As much

as Abdur wanted to go and hide somewhere no one else knew they
were, it was Wendall’s decision to make. His lover obviously
trusted these people not to hurt him. He clenched his free hand as
pain throbbed through his head and the left side of his body.

Wendall must have sensed Abdur’s impending meltdown and

nodded. “You’re right. We need to rest, but first I need you to send
someone out to get these herbs from the alchemist on Alabame
Street. Have him bring them back here.” Wendall handed Baldy a
paper before reaching out to grab one of the bottles of whisky.
“Show us to our room.”

Baldy inclined his head before gesturing for them to follow him

down a dark hall. They went along, and Abdur held onto Wendall,
letting him direct where Abdur was to go. Nausea swirled in his
stomach, forcing him to stop and bend over to breath deeply.

The touch of Wendall’s hand to his back allowed him to focus

on something besides how his body felt like it was tearing itself
apart. The hiss of the lanterns lighting the hallway cut the silence.
Finally, Abdur straightened and smiled at Wendall.

“I’ll be all right. Just need to lie down for a few.”
“Sure.” Baldy had stopped in front of the door at the end of the

corridor. “You can rest in here. I’ll have my man get those herbs
for you as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”
Abdur didn’t even look around the room. He simply went to the

bed and lay down. Moaning, he buried his face in the pillow. There

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was some whispering behind him, but he didn’t comprehend what
was being said.

“Come on, love. Roll over, and I’ll help you sit up. We need to

get you undressed before you get back into bed.”

“I don’t want to leave you without protection,” he muttered,

trying not to move his head or his jaw. At times, the scars and
twisted bone hurt worse than the metal cutting into his skin.

Wendall caressed the right side of his face where he still had

flesh. “Don’t worry about me, Abdur. I’m as safe here as I would
be anywhere else. Safer actually because these men work for me.
They’ll protect us with their lives.”

“Even though you’re leaving the borough instead of staying

around for the revolution?” he asked, closing his eyes to stop the
room from spinning.

“Yes. I never planned on sticking around once I put destiny

into motion. I’m not a warrior. I’m a lover and a diplomat. It’s my
job to find allies for our cause.”

Abdur peered through barely opened eyelids, trying to see

Wendall’s face, but the lanterns had been turned down low. He
only saw shadows shading Wendall, so he couldn’t see the man’s
expression.

“You’ve been planning this for a while?” Abdur didn’t fight as

Wendall helped him under the blankets before tucking him in.

He heard rustling, then Wendall slid in beside him, as naked as

the day he was born. Abdur sighed as Wendall wrapped his arms
around him, pulling him to his chest. Wendall pressed his lips to
Abdur’s ear.

“Why don’t you try to sleep a little bit? I’ll wake you up when

the herbs get here.”

“I want to know about this revolution you’ve been plotting and

THE WHORE OF NEW SLUM

CHAPTER 7

Nodding his thanks, Wendall took the herbs from Brackett. “I

appreciate this.”

“Yocav said it was for you, sir, so I returned as quickly as I

could.” Brackett smiled, awe shining in his gaze.

“If I need anything else, I’ll let you know.”
Wendall shut the door before Brackett could say anything else.

He wasn’t interested in making small talk with anyone. He needed
to mix up the herbs for Abdur because his lover was obviously in a
great deal of pain. They’d huddled under the sheets, and while
Wendall had managed to get some rest, Abdur had tossed and
turned for the last hour they had been in the room.

He went about his job, crushing the leaves before stirring it in a

glass of whisky. Wendall set the glass on the nightstand, then sat

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on the edge of the mattress. He shook Abdur’s shoulder and waited
for him to wake.

Abdur rolled over onto his back. Wendall had turned the

lanterns  up  higher,  so  the  room  was  bright.  He  grimaced  as  the
light shone  on the  oddity of  Abdur’s face  covered  with scars and
his jaw twisted so horrifically. Wendall had no idea how  the  man
managed to talk or function.

Wendall trailed his fingers over the bump in Abdur’s nose. He

smiled when Abdur wrinkled his nose and reached up to swat at
Wendall.

“Wake up for a moment, Abdur,” Wendall commanded in a

low voice.

He watched as Abdur struggled to say something, and it

became obvious to Wendall that Abdur’s shoulder had locked.
Abdur clenched his teeth together. The gears needed to be oiled.
He patted Abdur’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I had Brackett bring us some oil as well. He

blushed when he gave it to me. I’m pretty sure he thought we were
going to have sex at some point. I didn’t have the heart to tell him
that I have better lube in my pocket for those moments.”

Abdur’s eyes smiled, even if his lips couldn’t. After standing,

Wendall went to the table close to the door to snatch up the bottle.
He returned to Abdur and held up the oil.

“Just a few more seconds and you’ll be able to talk.”
Taking his time, Wendall slowly popped open the panel on

Abdur’s shoulder. He slid the tip of the bottle in between gears and
tilted  it  slightly.  A  few  drops  came  out.  The  oil  he  used  wasn’t
regular machine grade. It was a special blend the doctors had come
up  with  so  Abdur  wouldn’t  get  poisoned  but  the  gears  wouldn’t
freeze  up  either.  Brackett  had  snuck  into  Wendall’s  room  at  The

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Pink Carnation to get it for them.

They slowly worked together to get his shoulder moving again.

Soon, Abdur grunted and reached over to rest his hand on
Wendall’s leg.

“Thank you,” he whispered.
Wendall set the oil on the stand before picking up the whisky.

“You’re welcome. Here, drink this. It should help with the pain,
darling. Then we’ll sleep for a little while longer. I don’t want to
go back to Joshua’s until after nightfall.”

Abdur pushed up to lean against the headboard. Without

arguing, he took the glass from Wendall and drank its contents. He
hissed slightly at the taste.

“I know. It doesn’t taste great, especially mixed with whisky,

but the alcohol will help it work faster.” Wendall rubbed Abdur’s
chest.

“As long as the pain dulls, I can deal with it.” Abdur handed

him the empty glass.

Wendall put it next to the oil before climbing into bed to

snuggle  close  to  Abdur.  He  closed  his  eyes,  absorbing  Abdur’s
gentle  touch.  Maybe  he  should  be  worrying  more  about  their
upcoming journey or about whether they’d even make it out of the
city,  but  at  that  moment  in  time,  he  only  cared  about  being  held
tight in the arms of the man he loved.

“What have you got planned for New Slum and this city,

Wendall?”

He’d been wondering how long it would take Abdur to ask that

question. Wendall considered not saying a word about his secret
life, but this was Abdur, the man he loved, and the person he hoped
to spend the rest of his life with.

“I’m going with you, no matter where your plan leads. I’d just

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like to be informed of it before I have to defend it.”

Wendall rolled his head to the side, so he could meet Abdur’s

gaze. “I don’t mind telling you. It’s only I’ve had to keep so much
of what I’ve done in the shadows that it’s hard to speak of it in the
lantern’s gleam.”

“No one else is listening to our conversation.” Abdur paused

for a second before continuing. “At least I don’t think they are.”

He shook his head. “No. Yacov wouldn’t take a chance of me

finding out he had anyone spying on me.”

Abdur stared at him. “Are you really that scary? I thought you

were more of a lover than a fighter.”

Wendall chuckled. “I’d prefer to love, but I’ll fight when I’m

threatened or when someone I love is in danger.”

“Who were you trying to protect with all these plans of

revolution?”

“Good question,” he admitted. “When I started, it was to help

Molly, but her illness progressed faster than I thought it would.
Not everything was in place by the time she got ill.”

Abdur shifted slightly to give him a better look at Wendall’s

face. His expression held skepticism, and Wendall rubbed his
thumb along the curve of Abdur’s neck, knowing Abdur could feel
his touch there.

“And everything is in place now?”
Wendall shrugged. “There are enough things there for it to

work. Whoever takes up the mantle from me will be able to figure
out the last few issues. Besides, I’ll come back. I don’t plan on
being gone forever.”

“Are you The Whore everyone has been talking about since I

was brought here?”

Wendall let the silence grow for a few minutes before he

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nodded.

“I had wondered. You seemed to have a lot of power for being

simply a whore in New Slum.” Abdur didn’t really sound shocked
at Wendall’s revelation.

“I was just a plain whore in the beginning, then I came into

possession of some important information. Once I figured out what
I could do with it, an idea formed in my mind.” Wendall wiggled
around until he sat cross-legged, facing Abdur. “As the years went
by, I gathered more and more secrets, and by then all the signs
were telling me it would only be a matter of time before the
military moved to take over New Britain.”

Abdur frowned. “Why would they do that?”
“Because the Governor of New Britain has too much power. If

he gave up even a little bit, the generals wouldn’t have to take it.”

“So what’s your part in this hostile takeover?”
Shaking his head, Wendall chuckled. “Nothing, except I made

it possible for the people of New Slum to protect themselves.”

“Right. How are they going to protect themselves? The military

has airships, cannons, and other weapons. How are a bunch of
whores and the dregs of society going to be able to keep the
military from destroying them?”

“That’s the beauty of the whole thing.” Wendall practically

bounced in his excitement.

His lover smiled. At least Wendall assumed Abdur did because

Abdur’s eyes brightened and the corners of his mouth tilted up. He
reached out to take Abdur’s hands in his.

“They aren’t going to fight in the normal way. When the

soldiers get here, there won’t be anyone here. They’ll have
vanished into the underground tunnels that run throughout the
island.”

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Abdur tipped his head, while he seemed to consider Wendall’s

idea. “Your people will hide away until the war is over and then
what?”

He snorted. “Who said they would hide away?”
“What are you saying?”
Wendall jumped off the bed and began to pace. He waved his

hands as  he  spoke. “What  I’m  saying is the  people  of New Slum
are  going  to  fight  back  the  only  way  they  know  how.  They’re
going  to  attack  the  fringes  of  the  units.  They’ll  take  out  soldiers
one or two at time with the weapons I managed to have smuggled
in. It’s the way the natives fought when our forefathers first came
to this land.”

“And how our forefathers lost Old Britain and Old France,”

Abdur commented.

Wendall whirled around to glare at him. “Those are minor

details.”

“Minor?” Abdur stared at him. “Really? How is that minor? It

didn’t work for your ancestors.”

“Do you know how many tunnels there are under this city?

Even  if  the  New  Britain  soldiers  followed  them  in,  my  people
could  lose  them  within  seconds,  and  those  men  would  never  find
their way out.” Wendall pointed at the wall. “It’s a war of attrition,
and right now, they’re  winning. All they have to do is sit outside
the borough and wait while disease and poverty kill us.”

Abdur held out his hand, and Wendall looked at it for a

moment before sighing. Taking it, he let Abdur draw him back to
the bed. He climbed in and settled next to Abdur again.

“Does this have to do with your sister?”
“Yes and no. If she’d had a chance to move beyond the

boundaries of New Slum and become something more than she

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was expected to be, Molly might still be alive. It’s possible she
wouldn’t have caught that disease and been left alone by some
soldier who just used her.”

“And the no part?” Abdur stroked his hair with his right hand,

while holding Wendall close with the left.

Wendall shivered as the cool metal touched his skin, yet he

didn’t pull away. He’d gotten used to the strange mixture of cold
and warm while being with Abdur.

“I grew up in New Slum. When I was a teenager I had to make

a choice. Either work in the mines or sell myself. I decided I could
live a longer life if I sold my body than working in the mine.
Maybe not that much longer, but at least I could do as I wanted for
the most part. When you worked for the company, you did as they
said, and you worked until the dust filled up your lungs.”

He closed his eyes, remembering the sounds of his father

dying,  choking  on  the  black  dust  in  his  lungs.  Once  the  coughing
started,  there  was  nothing  anyone  could  do.  Not  even  the
magicians—if  a  person  could  afford  one—were  able  to  cure  a
person with the Black Cough.

“I knew being a whore meant I could get sick. No matter how

careful we are and no matter how many vaccines we get,
sometimes things happen. Yet I’d rather deal with that than suffer
the agony of death from suffocating like my father.”

Abdur grunted, like he understood what Wendall was saying.
“Anyway, I decided to take the power I accrued and find a way

to save the people who live in this borough with me. They have to
make the same awful choices I did, without any real hope of
getting out of this life.”

He pushed out of Abdur’s embrace and sat back, so he could

meet Abdur’s gaze dead-on. His lover kept his eyes on him, and

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100

there wasn’t any sign Abdur thought he was crazy or stupid for
wanting to do this.

“But a revolution, Wendall? Do you truly believe this is the

right thing to do?”

“Yes.”
There was no doubt in his mind the only way to keep the

people in New Slum from being killed by the soldiers or dying in
more mines was to give them the opportunity to fight for their
freedom.

“Now that I’ve given the word, the children and any of the

others who want to go will be led out of the city and into the free
areas around here. There are routes that will take them up into New
France and out West. Traders have used them for years to smuggle
things in and out of New City. There are places where they will be
given a chance to make a good life for themselves.”

“Why haven’t you used them to get out of New Slum?” Abdur

asked, obviously puzzled at the idea that no one had taken
advantage of them before.

“The ones under New Slum were closed within months of the

borough being created. It’s taken my people this long to clear them
out, so we could use them.”

Abdur nodded. “I’m glad to hear you’ve allowed other avenues

to be  opened for people. So they  won’t be  forced to fight  if they
don’t want to, though I’m sure  you’ve found a lot of people  who
will. It’s hard to fight a  war when you don’t have the strength of
your convictions.”

“You were drafted into the army, weren’t you?” He rested his

hand on Abdur’s chest, flexing a little to feel the warm skin under
his fingers.

Abdur closed his eyes, and Wendall couldn’t resist bending

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101

forward. He brushed his lips over Abdur’s. Wendall swept his
tongue in, tasting the whisky Abdur had drunk earlier. Before they
could take it further, he broke away. Now wasn’t the time to get
caught up in passion. There were so many other things they needed
to do.

“Yes, most of the people in my unit had been forced to join the

army, which is why I’m happy to know you’re not forcing your
people to fight this battle.”

Wendall glanced over at the clock ticking on the wall. Sunset

was in a few minutes. They needed to get dressed and head back to
Joshua’s apartment. He was holding out hope Joshua had found
some spell to help Abdur. They were going to have to travel far
and fast without much rest until they got farther away.

“We have to get going. How are you feeling?”
After climbing out of bed, he got dressed while watching

Abdur do the same.

“I feel much better. Thank you for the medicine. It helped a

lot.” Abdur finished slipping his scarf over his face before
approaching the door. They walked out. “We must get back to your
magician friend’s house. I don’t like us moving out in sight of
people. I don’t trust any of them not to turn us in. I’m sure there’s
a large reward for my return.”

“About one thousand coin, sir.”
They turned to see Brackett standing at the end of the corridor,

hands out so they could see he didn’t have any weapons. Wendall
heard the sound of metal rubbing against leather. Abdur pushed
past him, putting his body in between Wendall and anyone who
might hurt him.

“Really? That much? They must truly want you, Abdur,”

Wendall joked.

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102

“They want to put me in some lab, hidden away, and use me

for experiments. I’m sure they’d love to replicate what the
magician did to me, thus creating an army of metal soldiers.”

Wendall hummed while studying Brackett. Finally, he said,

“You aren’t planning on collecting those coins, are you?”

Brackett shook his head. “No, sir. When my pa died from

Black Cough, you helped support us until I could find proper work
that didn’t include breaking the law or working in the mine. I
wouldn’t turn anyone in to those bastards.”

“Thank you,” Abdur said.
The young man bowed his head slightly before gesturing for

them to follow him, and they entered the alley. Brackett held up his
hand to stop them while he went on to the entrance, glancing in
both directions. He looked back to them, waving his hand to signal
them to come to him.

Wendall wasn’t surprised when Abdur moved to stand in front

of him. Abdur could be dying and he would offer his life for
Wendall’s, not that he wanted that to happen. He didn’t plan on
being around in an area where his life could be in danger.

They eased onto the sidewalk, with Brackett a few feet ahead

of them. Wendall glanced around, spotting another one of his men
a few feet behind them. They had an escort. Wendall nodded at the
man before looking back ahead.

“Where are we headed, sir?” Brackett asked.
“To Ambrose Street…Building Sixteen. We have business

there before we meet at the gathering place.”

“Certainly, sir.”
He caught up to Abdur before sliding his hand in the crook of

Abdur’s elbow. Wendall flexed his fingers, enjoying the tensile
strength of Abdur’s fabric-covered flesh. He noticed how Abdur

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kept his left side toward the street, in case an attack came from
there.

They continued on to Ambrose Street, and when they reached

Joshua’s building, Wendall gestured for Brackett and the other
man to wait.

“Don’t worry. Abdur can protect me while we’re inside. No

one will be able to sneak up on us.”

“All right, but here.” Brackett handed Abdur a gun and a knife.

“You might need these.”

Abdur tucked the knife in his waistband and then checked the

gun for bullets. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Anything that keeps him safe.” Brackett nodded toward

Wendall.

“You both know I can take care of myself, right?” Wendall

asked.

They looked at him, and he realized it didn’t matter what he

said.  They  were  going  to  do  their  best  to  ensure  he  wouldn’t  be
arrested or killed. He sighed  softly before turning to climb up the
stairs  to  the  front  door.  He  pushed  the  button  for  Joshua’s
apartment.

“Yes?”
“Joshua, it’s me.”
“Oh, right, I forgot we made an appointment.”
Something didn’t sound right in Joshua’s voice. Wendall

glanced over his shoulder at Abdur, who shrugged.

“Sorry, I didn’t call to remind you. Umm…can I come up?”
“I’m sorry. I won’t be able to meet with you tonight. Maybe we

could meet tomorrow.”

That wouldn’t work. Wendall didn’t plan on being anywhere

near the city when the sun rose in the morning. Someone had to be

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with Joshua and he didn’t want whoever it was to see Wendall. If it
was just for him—or anything else—Wendall would have told
Joshua to forget it, but it was for Abdur, and Wendall didn’t want
to leave New Slum without making sure Joshua could do
something to help him.

“I can’t do that. Is there any way we could meet later on

tonight?”

Joshua grunted, and Wendall thought there was pain in the

sound.

“I won’t be available tonight either. I’m sorry. Come back

tomorrow.”

Wendall stepped away from the intercom and gestured for the

others to gather around him at the corner of the building. He leaned
back against the brick and crossed his arms.

“They’ve gotten to Joshua. We need to figure out how to get

him away from them without anyone getting killed.”

“How do we know it’s the authorities and not just him deciding

not to help us?” Abdur asked.

“Joshua wouldn’t do that. First of all, he knows the information

I have on him could get him into a lot of trouble with the
magicians’ guild. Secondly, he really is my friend and would’ve
helped us without me blackmailing him.”

Abdur looked at him. “Then why did you?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes it helps to encourage him a little.

That’s not the point. The point is that Joshua is in danger and it’s
because of us.”

Abdur didn’t look completely convinced, but he stayed silent.

Wendall glanced at Brackett and the other man.

“Do either of you have any ideas?”
Brackett nodded. “I do, but you and your partner need to go to

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the gathering place. We’ll bring the mage to you there.”

“Are you sure?” Wendall wasn’t altogether happy about

leaving the two men there to save Joshua from the bad guys while
he left the Slum to find help. “I wish there was a different way.”

“If that way involves you being there somehow, it isn’t

possible. Your men are going to do what they’ve been recruited for
and help Joshua, while I take you to wherever we’re supposed to
be.” Abdur cupped Wendall’s elbow to move him away from the
wall.

Wendall bit his lip and thought for a moment before nodding.

“All right. You’re adults, and I can’t stop you from doing it. Just
be careful with yourself and Joshua. He’s a little fragile.”

Nodding, Brackett pulled a small convo-box out of his pocket.

After cranking it for a little bit, he pushed a few buttons and a
buzzing sound filled the air. There was a crackle and then a voice
came through the speaker.

“Yes, Brackett?”
“I need someone to come to Ambrose Street, Building Sixteen

for transportation of important package.” Brackett glanced at
Wendall.

“All right. I’m sending Seeley and Cam to your location.

They’ll transport the package to the delivery spot.”

“Thank you.” He shut the convo-box off before putting it back

in his pocket. “We’ll wait here until Seeley and Cam get here, then
we will go to get Joshua. He’ll be safe at your side in an hour or
so.”

Taking a deep breath, Wendall nodded. “Fine. But go and try to

get Joshua right now. Abdur can protect me until the others get
here.”

Brackett shot Abdur a glance, and Wendall had a minute of

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irritation at the fact they were looking at his lover to make sure it
was okay to leave. The tilt of Abdur’s head caused Brackett and
the other man to head toward the back of the alley they were
standing in.

“Why did they look at you?” He folded his arms over his chest

and stared at Abdur.

Abdur chuckled, and Wendall thought of how he no longer

winced when he heard Abdur talk or laugh.

“They were making sure I understood how important your

safety is. By acknowledging them, I reassured them that I would
give my life for yours.”

Wendall pushed away from the wall before resting his hands on

Abdur’s shoulders. He looked up into his lover’s eyes. Abdur’s
dark gaze met his, and Wendall frowned.

“I don’t ever want you to say that again. I’d prefer we stay

alive and no one gives his life for the other.”

“Wendall, I will do everything in my power not to exchange

my life for yours, but I’m not going to let you get killed either.”

“I can accept that, I guess.”
He pressed his lips to Abdur’s, not even minding the scarf

between them, though he would’ve liked to feel Abdur’s flesh
against his mouth.

Abdur wrapped his arms around Wendall’s waist, pulling him

closer. After they ended the kiss, Wendall rested his head on
Abdur’s shoulder, and they breathed together for a little while. He
couldn’t help but wish they could have all the time in the world to
be like that. Holding on to one another without worrying about
someone trying to kill them.

Honking from the street caught their attention, and Abdur

blocked most of Wendall’s body as they turned to look. Seeley

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waved at them from the passenger side window of a cab.

“It’s them,” Wendall told Abdur.
“You’re sure?”
Wendall took Abdur’s hand, though he allowed the man to lead

the way to the vehicle. “Yes, I’m sure. I know what Seeley and
Cam look like.”

“All right.”
Abdur glanced right and then left before letting Wendall leave

the relative safety of the alley. After Seeley climbed out and
opened the door, Wendall slid into the backseat with Abdur right
behind him.

They’d just barely settled in when Cam released the lever to get

the steam flowing again. Cam drove the cab away from the
building, while Seeley glanced at them from his spot in the front
seat.

“We’ll take you to the gathering spot, sir. Then we’ll be

coming back to grab Brackett and the others.”

“Have you heard anything from them?”
Cam shook his head. “No, sir. He’ll call when they need a ride.

I doubt it’ll be much longer. He’s young, but Brackett knows what
he’s doing.”

Wendall leaned against Abdur, while looking out the window.

“I hope so, for all their sakes.”

Abdur encircled his waist, holding him as they were driven

through the teeming streets of New Slum. Wendall was going to
miss the hustle and bustle of nighttime in his borough. It really was
the only part of New City that thrived after dark.

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CHAPTER 8

There was no reason to talk as Abdur helped Wendall out of the

back of the cab. He continued to keep the man close to his side.
The pain had dulled into a nagging ache, but it was something he
could deal with and it wasn’t overwhelming him yet.

Cam went to a steel door set in the left corner of a derelict

warehouse close to the border between New Slum and New Island.
Seeley followed behind Abdur and Wendall, keeping his hand on
the grip of his gun. Abdur had one hand on his gun and the other
wrapped around Wendall’s elbow. He wasn’t going to let anything
happen to the man who’d saved his soul with no more than a touch
and acceptance of his destroyed body.

He shot Wendall a quick glance, and Wendall caught him

looking. Wendall gave him a bright smile, and Abdur’s heart leapt.

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Abdur knew that if it ever came down to it, he would give up his
freedom to keep Wendall out of the government’s hands. He would
become a weapon for whoever promised to leave Wendall alone.

After knocking on the door, Cam turned to look at them.

“People have been arriving all day since you gave the word. We’ve
actually already sent several groups through the tunnels to various
regions.”

“The children have escorts, right?” Wendall seemed concerned.
“Of course, sir. We’re doing it all the way you set it up.”
A small square of the door slid open, and Cam turned back to

meet the gaze of the person standing on the other side.

“We’re back with the package.”
The man slammed the square shut before opening the door and

gesturing  for  them  to  come  inside.  Abdur  didn’t  look  around  as
they walked through the  warehouse. He knew they weren’t going
to  be  staying  there  for  long  and  probably  were  going  to  be
underground within a few minutes.

Also, the farther they got into the building, the more people

appeared, and their presence gave Abdur a chance to relax slightly.
No one was going to get to Wendall with all these other soldiers
around him.

Cam and Seeley stopped at a door Abdur assumed led down

into the underground. Seeley pointed at the small woman standing
guard there.

“Diane will tell you how to get down to the tunnels where the

others are waiting. I’m going to pick up Brackett and the others.”
Seeley saluted before whirling to head back in the direction they’d
come.

“It’s marvelous to finally meet you, sir.” Diane bowed slightly,

then opened the door. “The staircase leads down to the cellar. Once

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you’re there, one of the others will take you to the gathering spot.”

“I do know where it is,” Wendall commented.
“Of course, sir, but it’s best that someone else is with you both

at all times. Things have changed since you were last here.” Diane
wiggled her eyebrows, and Wendall laughed.

Abdur didn’t get what was so funny, but he figured Wendall

understood and that was the important thing. He walked as close as
he could down the stairs to the cellars. The staircase and the rooms
under the warehouse were brightly lit with coal and steam lanterns.

Another guard greeted them as they made their way through the

different rooms until they came to the end of the hallway. Abdur
watched as the man saluted Wendall before typing in a code to
open the next door.

This time it was a tunnel they entered, and while it was well lit,

it was narrow, and Abdur could feel his shoulders brushing against
the stone walls. He didn’t know how long they walked, but the air
grew colder and damper as they continued along the path.

Right before he reached his tolerance level for closed-in spaces,

they emerged into a wide cavern. Abdur eased in front of Wendall
when he realized how many people were gathered in the huge area.
He assumed they were all friends, but he wouldn’t risk the chance
that one wasn’t.

“Sir, you made it. I’m glad to see you’re unharmed and are

going to be able to talk to the remaining groups before they leave.”

Abdur studied the tall blonde woman as she strolled toward

them. There was something familiar about her. It was only when
she reached them and her face could be clearly seen in the
flickering light that Abdur realized who she was.

“Mother Superior?”
Her wide smile brought a little more lightness to his heart. She

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took his hand before brushing a kiss over his cheek.

“Yes, my son. I’ve been one of The Whore’s biggest supporters

from  the  very  beginning.  I  thought  he  had  a  good  plan  for  this
borough  and  I  knew  none  of  the  others  cared  what  happened  to
these  people.”  With  a  tilt  of  her  head,  she  motioned  to  the  small
groups milling about.

When she met his gaze, he saw a determined glint in her eyes.
“I think it’s time you show your real face to all of us. We won’t

judge you for what you couldn’t control. Anyway, it’s not like
you’re staying around here much longer.”

Abdur turned to look at Wendall, who nodded and smiled in

encouragement. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like it mattered if the
others were scared of him, and even if one of them decided to tell
the authorities they’d seen him, it would be too late.

The silk stuck to his face, even in the cool atmosphere of the

underground cavern. He grimaced as he peeled his scarf from his
lower face. Wendall took it from him and tossed it into a shadowed
space behind them.

People had gathered around them, once the news spread that

The Whore had arrived. There was whispering and exclamations
amongst the crowd at the knowledge it was Wendall who was their
savior. While they had known him as a whore, they hadn't known
he was behind all the extras that had shown up and the opportunity
to take their freedom back from their enemies.

“Will you be leaving soon as well?” Mother Superior glanced

over at Wendall.

“No. We’re waiting for Brackett and others. They’re bringing a

magician to look at Abdur. We’re hoping he’ll be able to work a
different spell to help fuse the metal to bone in a less painful way.”
Wendall stroked Abdur’s arm.

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She studied Wendall and then Abdur. Pursing her lips, she

seemed to be thinking. Finally, the Mother Superior inclined her
head.

“I guess it’s worth a try. I’m sure your magician is quite

capable of helping Abdur. I know the military magician and
doctors weren’t gifted enough to keep it from being extremely
painful.”

He didn’t say anything since there really wasn’t anything to

say. She was right. The magician had enough talent to start to fuse
the  metal  to  the  bones,  but  there  was  something  wrong  with  the
spell.  His  flesh  and  bone  tried  to  reject  the  steel  every  minute  he
breathed.  Most  of  the  time,  he  could  deal  with  the  pain,  and  it
wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

A buzzing noise caught their attention, causing them to look

over to one of the men standing closest to the door leading back up
to the warehouse. Abdur watched as he pulled out a convo-box and
activated it. A whispered conversation ensued. The man glanced
over at them and nodded.

“I believe your magician is on his way down,” Mother Superior

commented, as the man shut the box before heading in their
direction.

“Brackett and the others will be down here in a few minutes.

They didn’t have any trouble with the soldiers who were holding
your man,” he informed Wendall and Abdur.

“Thank you.” Wendall patted his shoulder before turning to

look at Abdur. “Hopefully Joshua came up with something useful.
I think it would be far easier to travel west without having to worry
about the pain.”

Abdur nodded, but he didn’t really think Joshua would be able

to help him. Yet, if it made Wendall feel better to believe it, Abdur

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wasn’t about to express his doubt out loud.

“Good luck, sir, and you as well, Abdur.” She smiled at him.

“I’ll go and help some of the groups getting ready to head out.”

“Wait. Are you really a nun?” He had to ask.
She laughed. “Yes, I am. Even though I’m religious, it doesn’t

mean I can’t understand revolution and why it’s necessary.”

Abdur accepted what she said. Not everyone was rigid in their

beliefs. Some were able to see the future beyond the narrow
horizon of the world they lived in.

Joshua arrived in a hail of swearing and yelling. “Stop pushing

me, you big goon. I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

Joshua seemed to be berating Brackett as they entered the

cavern. Abdur glanced over at Wendall, who rolled his eyes at him.

“Such a charming person,” Abdur murmured.
Wendall chuckled. “He has his moments, but I think this whole

thing has strained his nerves. Joshua is best when he doesn’t have
to pretend he’s tolerant of people.”

Abdur let Wendall take his hand and lead him over to where

Joshua stood, yelling at Brackett, while wildly waving his hands
around. The magician was streaked with dirt and his clothes were
torn.

“Joshua, are you all right?” Wendall rested his hand on

Joshua’s shoulder.

The magician whirled around to glare at Abdur’s lover. “Why

the hell did you send this bastard after me? I was fine without your
help.”

Before Joshua could poke Wendall’s chest with his finger,

Abdur grabbed the magician’s hand and tugged slightly, throwing
the slender man off-balance. Joshua snarled, yanking to try to get
free. Abdur shook his head.

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“I don’t care how angry you are at Wendall, and maybe you

have the right to be, but you will not touch him like that. At least,
not while I’m around.” He tightened his fingers around Joshua’s
wrist, causing the man to wince.

“Fine.” The magician jerked, and Abdur let him go this time.

Joshua stumbled, but Brackett caught him before he could fall.

Joshua shook Brackett’s hands off him before looking at

Wendall.  Abdur  stood  beside  Wendall,  arms  folded.  He  knew  his
very  presence,  with  his  modifications  plainly  visible,  were
unnerving.  It  didn’t  matter  whether  Joshua  was  scared  of  him  or
not. All that mattered was the magician thought before he touched
Wendall again.

“You were in danger because of us.” Wendall gestured between

Abdur and himself. “I thought you might appreciate a little help.”

“I could’ve gotten away from them without any interference

from you and these buffoons.” Joshua sent a toss of his head in
Brackett’s direction.

“Yes, well, I find I can’t leave town without your assistance.

Remember, you were going to see if you could find a spell to ease
some of the pain Abdur has been feeling from the metal implanted
in his body.”

Joshua huffed, his annoyance still obvious in the very way he

held his shoulders. “Fine. I’ll help you with it, though, to be
honest, I never found a spell to help with the melding of the steel
to bone.”

Abdur hadn’t thought Joshua would be able to find some magic

to help, and, for the  most part,  it  wasn’t  his bones bothering  him
the  most.  It  was  where  his  skin  and  steel  met.  The  edges  of  the
steel  continued  to  cut  into  his  flesh,  causing  trickles  of  blood  to
seep  through  his  clothes  and  creating  more  discomfort  than  he

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could tolerate at times.

“We aren’t concerned with the bone. It will fuse with the steel

in  time.  It’s  where  the  flesh  meets  the  metal  that  worries  me.
Constant  pain  and  bleeding  weakens  even  the  strongest
constitution, and  we  have far to go before  we  can rest.”  Wendall
didn’t  even  look  in  Abdur’s  direction,  simply  reached  out  to  rest
his hand on Abdur’s arm.

It was the simplest moments drawing Abdur further into love

with Wendall. The fact Wendall didn’t hesitate to touch him—and
had never seemed to be frightened by him—helped Abdur trust
Wendall more than any other person he’d met. It was one of many
reasons why Abdur would follow Wendall into the deepest flames
of hell if the man wanted him to go there.

“Fine. I’ll need good lighting and someplace I can work my

magic without being interrupted.” Joshua glared at them with a
mutinous pout to his lips.

“We have just the place.” Brackett pointed toward a small

entrance leading from the main cavern. “I’ll have some men bring
in some more lanterns, and we’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

While Joshua might have been nasty to Brackett, the man

didn’t seem to be holding a grudge. Joshua snorted, but went in the
direction Brackett had gestured. Abdur saw a little bit of interest
shining in Brackett’s gaze as Brackett watched Joshua walk away.

Abdur met Wendall’s gaze and shook his head. “I’m not sure

Brackett being taken by Joshua is a good thing. The magician
seems too prickly to make a good mate.”

“Who says Brackett’s looking for a mate?” Wendall slid his

hand in the crook of Abdur’s elbow before strolling with him over
to where Brackett stood. “With all the fighting that’s about to start,
I’m not sure Brackett will have time for anything other than a

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quick fuck once in a while. I’ll have to talk to Joshua and see if
he’d be interested in leaving with one of the groups.”

“Do you really think the military will come after him?

Especially when they figure out you’ve left, and I’ve disappeared.”
Abdur couldn’t see the military expending that much time and
energy looking for Joshua when they would have a battle on their
hands…and with not just New Slum. “I’m pretty sure some of the
other boroughs won’t go quietly into the fold.”

Wendall shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to leave him

alone. If he doesn’t go with a group, I’ll have Brackett keep an eye
on him. I’m pretty sure he won’t mind watching out for Joshua.”

When they got to the opening, they discovered it was a smaller

cavern and it already had a sturdy table. Joshua started issuing
orders, and Brackett made sure his men listened to the magician.
Abdur and Wendall stayed out of the way as people rushed in and
out, setting lanterns everywhere to flood the area with light.

When everything was finally to Joshua’s liking, he turned to

look at Abdur. “We’re all ready, metal man. Come here and take
off your shirt. Wendall said the rest of you is normal?”

“No. While I am scarred on my left side from the top of my

head to my feet, the worst damage was to my jaw and chest.”
Abdur handed his gun and knife to Brackett before starting to
unbutton his shirt. He grimaced as he slowly peeled the fabric from
his body. All of the movement throughout the day had caused more
bleeding than usual.

“Fuck,” Brackett swore as Abdur’s true wounds were revealed

to the light of the world.

Joshua hissed softly between his teeth as he circled Abdur.

“Whoever did this to you should be drawn and quartered. Amateur
workmanship and shoddy magic,” he muttered.

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Abdur kept his gaze on the stone wall of the cavern, not willing

to look at the others’ expressions. Oh, he knew Wendall wouldn’t
be looking at him in disgust and pity, but the others wouldn’t be
able to hide it.

“I need some warm water to wash the blood off,” Joshua

commanded.

“Here you go, sir.”
He glanced down to see a bucket of steaming water appear

seemingly out of thin air. Joshua motioned toward the table.

“Sit, and I’ll wash you off. Do you bleed like this all the time?”
“I’ll do it.” Wendall approached, and Abdur turned to see his

lover holding his hand out.

“You just don’t want to let me touch him. I hate to tell you this,

but I’m going to have to touch him to cast my spell.” Joshua
smirked, but he handed the bucket to Wendall.

“I realize that, Joshua, but I’d prefer to give you as few chances

as possible to grope my lover.”

Wendall smiled at Abdur, who went to sit on the table.

Shivering, he wished they could get the whole thing over with, so
he could get dressed. One of the side effects of losing blood as
much as he did was it lowered his body temperature, and he was
tired. Abdur closed his eyes when Wendall gently wiped the blood
from his chest. The water was hot, but Abdur wanted to soak in it.

The only sound in the cavern was Joshua muttering to himself,

while Wendall finished washing off the dried blood from the other
parts of his body. There always  seemed to be blood seeping from
different  spots  on  his  chest,  shoulder,  and  back.  No  matter  how
much pressure  he  put on those  areas, it didn’t  matter because  the
edges of steel didn’t meld with Abdur’s flesh.

“All right. I’m as done as I can be. I hope you didn’t want him

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to stop bleeding because it’s not going to happen.”

The combination of the splash from the cloth hitting the water

and Wendall speaking aloud brought Abdur out of his trance.
Blinking, he let his mind wander back to the cavern and the people
around him. He watched Wendall hand the bucket to a woman,
who carried it away.

“I understand that this is why you want my help.” Joshua

strolled over to them. “I need you to lie back on the table, Abdur.
Wendall, I’m sorry, but you must leave.”

“No.”
Abdur looked to see Wendall standing next to the table, arms

crossed and a stubborn expression on his face.

“I’m not going to leave him alone.”
“Don’t you trust me?” Joshua appeared on the other side of the

table.

The magician had changed into a white tunic and black pants.

The tunic had embroidered sigils and runes, glittering golden in the
lantern light. He held a small knife in one hand and lit black candle
in the other.

“It has nothing to do with trusting you or not. It’s about not

leaving Abdur alone to endure the pain. I know he’d never leave
me, and he’s already had to endure the pain of having the steel
attached to his bones.”

Wendall brushed a lock of hair off Abdur’s forehead, and

Abdur sighed at the gentle touch.

“Were you awake when they did it?” Joshua looked horrified.
Abdur shrugged. “There was so much agony from my wounds

and the burns. They could’ve done anything, and I wouldn’t have
known since I was out of my mind.”

“That’s barbaric,” Joshua commented. “They should’ve given

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you some opium or something to knock you unconscious. It’s
unbearable they would treat you like a mindless creature to do their
experiments on.”

Again, Abdur shrugged. What could he say to that? To the New

Britain military, he was little more than an animal. They thought
anyone who wasn’t one of them was less than them. Of course, he
understood the British people weren’t the only ones who believed
that. The elite in New France were the same way, which was why
he’d ended up in the army in the first place. He’d been fodder for
the cannons, along with all of his friends.

The poor were always sacrificed when the rich couldn’t be

bothered to fight for themselves. It had been the way of the world
since wars began and the first people became rich. Having no
money or land just made it easier for others to forget he existed,
and Abdur couldn’t really argue with that, even if he didn’t like the
idea much.

“Will he need opium or morphine or something for what you’re

going to do to him?” Wendall looked very unhappy.

Joshua shook his head. “No.” He paused for a moment before

continuing, “I don’t plan on cutting him open or anything like that.
I really can’t promise there won’t be pain, and if you want, I can
find someone to give you something. I’m not trained to administer
the drugs.”

Abdur took Wendall’s hand, squeezing it to get the man’s

attention. “I don’t need any drugs. If it hurts, it won’t be any worse
than what I’ve gone through already.”

Wendall didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue with

Abdur’s decision. “All right, but I’m not leaving his side. If I think
what you’re doing is hurting more than helping, I’ll stop you.”

Joshua laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

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Abdur tugged on Wendall’s hand, encouraging him to bend

down to him. Their lips touched and clung together for a moment
before Joshua tapped Abdur’s right shoulder.

“While I don’t mind if you stay, Wendall, you’ll have to step

away from the table. I have learned better control over my magic,
but I’m still not perfect at it. I don’t want to damage you with it.”
Joshua wrinkled his nose when both Abdur and Wendall looked at
him. “Don’t I get credit for warning you?”

“Yes, I guess you do.” Wendall glanced at Abdur. “I’ll be right

here in the room with you. If the pain gets to be too much, you can
stop this.”

Abdur understood, but he couldn’t continue bleeding like he

was and in constant pain. He wouldn’t be able to protect Wendall
if he was more concerned about his own problems.

“Go ahead, Joshua. I trust you to do what you can help me.”

Abdur lifted one shoulder. “Nothing you do to me can be any
worse than what has already been done.”

“All right then, my friend. Close your eyes and we can get

started.”

Abdur did just that while breathing slowly. He listened as

Joshua told the others to leave the room. He heard the magician
explain to Brackett that no one was to come in or interrupt them
while he worked.

He felt the gentle touch of a hand and the soft caress of lips

over  his  shoulder  where  metal  and  flesh  joined.  It  was  Wendall,
letting  him  know  his lover  was close  by.  Abdur  wasn’t scared of
what  Joshua  was  going  to  do.  After  being  trapped  in  a  fire  spell
and  burned  by  an  airship,  there  had  only  been  one  thing  more
terrifying than that.

Taking off his clothes in front of the most beautiful man he’d

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121

ever  seen  had  been  the  most  frightening  thing  Abdur  had  ever
done.  Revealing  his  monstrous  scars  and  freakish  modifications,
while  Wendall  sat  watching  him,  had  taken  more  courage  than
Abdur thought he could muster.

Joshua’s chanting slowly filled the air, and Abdur ignored the

words to let the tone wash over him. He’d learned how to meditate
during the months after the operation. So, he sank into a trance,
allowing his heartbeat and breathing to slow. What was going on
around him didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the rise and fall of his chest as he

breathed in and out. The surge of blood through his veins reminded
him that he was alive. Abdur jumped when fingers traced the edges
of his wounds where the modifications were. He winced as the
pain shot through his nerves like electricity, causing his body and
arms to twitch.

The agony grew like Joshua was knitting his flesh with the

steel,  mingling  the  atoms  to  create  an  entirely  new  body  for  him.
Abdur  wasn’t  worried  about  giving  in  to  the  shadows.  Wendall
was somewhere close by, keeping an eye out for him. Through the
emotions  swirling  around  his  mind,  Abdur  was  glad  he  had
someone to make sure nothing went wrong.

When he’d been captured, there had been no one left in his

unit.  They’d  all  been  killed  during  the  airship  attack,  or  if  some
had survived, they had died from their wounds. During the months
the  New  Britain  military  held  him,  doing  experiments  without
caring  who  he  was  or  if  anyone  missed  him,  he’d  endured  alone.
Yet even after seeing him once, Wendall had chosen to touch and
accept  him  into  his  bed.  Of  course,  Wendall  was  a  whore,  and
having sex with anyone, even a scarred soldier like Abdur, was no
big deal because of the money being exchanged.

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123

CHAPTER 9

Wendall stood out of Joshua’s way, not wanting to bother the

magician.  He  didn’t  want  anything  to  interfere  with  Abdur’s
healing.  A  blue  light  surrounded  Joshua  and  Abdur,  and  Wendall
lost sight of them. The sound of Joshua’s chanting mixed with the
low  hiss  of  the  lanterns  and  whirrs  of  different  gears  in  the  main
cavern.

He lost track of time, letting his mind drift over the plans he

still  needed  to  implement.  Brackett  and  Yacov  would  have
acquired  the  needed  supplies,  plus  Sybil  would  have  made  sure
everything else was ready for his departure. When he first realized
his  leaving  New  Slum  could  help  the  revolution,  he’d  started
putting together a route that would get him into the Spanish lands.

Wendall already had contacts in those places and he wanted to

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124

see if they would help out. Any sort of aid could come with
conditions, he knew, but he thought he could minimize them, so
unfair treaties wouldn’t trap the new rulers of New Britain.

A tired sigh brought his full attention back to what was

happening in the room with him. Blinking, he turned to look at the
table where Abdur lay. Joshua stood, hands braced on the edge of
the  table,  head  resting  on  his  chest.  Before  Wendall  could  move,
Brackett  was  there,  encircling  the  magician’s  waist  and  letting
Joshua lean against him. Abdur flexed his hands,  but didn’t try to
move from the table.

“Is it all right?” Wendall eased up beside Joshua.
“I did all I could do.” Joshua reached out a trembling hand to

poke Abdur in the side. “You can sit up.”

Abdur opened his eyes before glancing at them. He slowly sat

up, wincing as he stretched.

“There will probably always be some kind of pain, but it won’t

bleed like it has been, and it’ll be a low-level ache.” Joshua sighed,
pushing a sweat-covered hank of hair out of his face. “Maybe if I’d
been there in the beginning when the first spell was cast, I could’ve
woven the steel and flesh into one. The other spell has had too
much time to seep in, and I could only alter it so much.”

Wendall rested his hand on Joshua’s arm. “We’re grateful for

what you did. Alleviating even a little of the pain is a blessing.” At
least he hoped Abdur felt that way.

“Yes, Joshua. I can tell it’s better already. Is there any way we

can pay you for your services?” Abdur climbed off the table before
taking the leather covering Wendall held out to him.

He slid the cover over his shoulder, hiding the gears and metal

that made up his shoulder and chest. After he was done, Wendall
helped him put on his shirt.

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125

“I don’t want anything. I was glad to help you.”
Wendall patted Joshua on the shoulder. “You can rest assured

we’re even. Actually, I’m probably in your debt.”

Joshua shook his head. “No. We’re even, and if you ever need

my help, please come and find me.”

“You should rest,” Brackett suggested, as Joshua slumped into

his chest.

“Yes, go and do that. You’re welcome to leave with any group

you  want  to  get  out  of  New  Slum.  Or  if  you  choose  to  stay,
Brackett  will  get  you  back  to  your  apartment.”  Wendall  knew
Brackett  would  also  take  it  upon  himself  to  keep  an  eye  on  the
magician if Joshua chose to remain.

“You’re going to be tired for a while as well, Abdur. The spell

I used took some of your energy as well as mine. It was the only
way I could find to help the steel mesh with your flesh.”

With those words, Joshua fainted, and Brackett swept the

slender magician into his arms.

“I’ll take care of him. All of the arrangements have been made

for you, sir.”

Wendall nodded. “Thank you, Brackett. You and your men

have been superb in helping arrange everything.”

“This is our home as well, sir, and it’s time we got to have a

say in how it’s run.” Brackett strolled out of the cavern with
Joshua pressed to his chest.

“I guess he likes prickly magicians or maybe he likes a

challenge,” Abdur commented, as he leaned back against the edge
of the table.

Wendall stepped into Abdur’s personal space, placing his

hands on the man’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his lips. Abdur
opened to him. He fell into the enormous well of love he had for

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126

the man holding him. Never once had Abdur held the fact Wendall
was a whore against him. He never hesitated to touch or embrace
him. He also never refused to acknowledge who Wendall was.

Maybe being forced to New Slum as something unclean had

dealt a blow to Wendall’s confidence and then having to choose to
be a whore enforced the fact he wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s
lover without getting paid.

Abdur pulled back a little. “We should probably get ready to

leave. I want to be as far away as possible when the sun rises.”

As much as Wendall wanted to make use of the table behind

Abdur,  he  admitted  his  lover  was  right.  They  needed  to  get
moving.  He  wanted  to  be  far  enough  away  no  one  would  think
about  coming  after  them.  Only  then  could  they  relax  for  a  little
while before he had to deal with the Spanish.

There was a crowd waiting for them when they entered the

larger cavern. Yacov approached them with two bundles of
clothes.

“You need to look like the freighters who travel between New

Britain and the Spanish lands.”

After taking the clothes, they changed quickly. Wendall

braided his hair, while Abdur fixed his scarf on again. Before they
went to join the others, Wendall stopped Abdur.

“How are you really feeling?”
Abdur rolled his shoulders. “Better than I have since this whole

situation started. Joshua’s right. There’s an ache, but it’s something
I can deal with. Trust me to know what I can handle.”

“I do, but I just wanted to make sure before we got started. It’s

going to be a rough trip, plus we’ll be traveling fast to ensure we’re
not captured.” Wendall shuddered at the thought of being taken by
the military.

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127

He let Abdur drape his arm over his shoulder as they headed in

the direction of Yacov and Brackett.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to keep us both out of their

hands. Together, we’re unbeatable.”

Wendall wasn’t entirely convinced that was true, but he knew

he had a better chance of succeeding with Abdur than without him.

“Everything is ready, sir. I’ll be taking you down the tunnel

leading to the border of New Britain. There are horses and supplies
waiting for you there.” Yacov handed over another gun and knife
for Wendall.

“Have more groups left?” Wendall strapped on the gun and

tucked the knife into his boot.

Yacov nodded. “Five have left since you got here. We have six

more ready to go within the next ten minutes. After that, there will
be one or two more groups heading out, but most of the rest have
chosen to stay and fight.”

“Good. All of the children and the women who have chosen to

leave will be out by morning?”

“Yes, sir.” Brackett joined them. “Joshua is resting in my area.

I’ll keep an eye on him until he’s ready to decide what he wants to
do.”

“Thank you, Brackett.” Wendall slapped him on the shoulder

before turning to meet Abdur’s gaze. “I think we should be going.”

Abdur nodded.
“If you’ll follow me, sir.” Yacov turned to leave.
Wendall started to go after him, but Abdur took hold of his

hand, pulling him to a stop. He glanced at his lover.

“I think you should say something to the others before you

leave. Give them some words of encouragement. It’s going to be a
long, hard-fought battle, and you won’t be here to cheer them on.”

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128

Abdur gestured to where the rest watched them.

“You’re right.”
Wendall had never had to speak in public or try to rally the

troops before. Of course, he’d never tried to start a revolution
either. He took the hand Abdur offered him, and with his help,
climbed up on top of a stack of crates. Wendall waited until he got
everyone’s attention and they fell silent.

“You know why we’re here and what we all hope to

accomplish. It’s time for the poor to be heard. It’s time for the
discarded and broken to be found and made whole again. The rich
and powerful must be reminded they’ve gotten that way on the
backs of the helpless.”

Anger welled up in his chest, and he clenched his hands. He

met every gaze he could before he cleared his throat to continue.

“I know what I’m asking of you seems crazy and it’s very

dangerous. Some of you will more than likely lose your lives. Yet I
believe—and I hope you believe as well—that this revolution
needs to happen. When change comes to the world, at times it must
be violent and sudden for it to work.”

He saw some people nod their heads. Wendall looked down as

Abdur wrapped his hand around Wendall’s ankle, letting him know
he was standing beside him.

“I’m leaving New Slum to find some allies to help us. I don’t

know how long I’ll be gone, but I will return. Until then, fight as
best you can, and if a time comes when all seems lost, then I won’t
blame any of you for leaving.”

“We’ll fight to the last person for our homes and for a better

life for our children, sir. That’s why we believe in this war and
why we believe in you,” Brackett yelled from the crowd.

Wendall shook his head. “Don’t believe in me. Believe in

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129

yourselves and each other. You’re all fighting for a better life and,
with luck, this fight will bring about a new world.

“A world where everyone will have a chance to be more than a

miner or a whore. My sister died a few days ago, and I wish she’d
lived long enough to see this moment. She was the reason why I
had the courage to even think about a change in my world. Without
her, I would’ve been happy in my discontentment. I wouldn’t have
dared to think there was anything else out there for me beyond the
brothel I worked in and the slum I called home. Molly believed our
lives could be better, if we only tried.”

He wiped the tears from his cheeks before continuing, “Yet she

discovered the harsh truth of  the  world around  us.  A person  from
New Slum doesn’t get a chance to better themselves. To those who
live outside New Slum, we’re  marred by the soot and shit we are
surrounded by. I don’t believe  that. I’ve  never believed that. I’ve
seen  some  of  the  most  touching  moments  of  humanity  happen  on
the garbage-strewn streets of this borough.”

They started cheering, and a gentle tap on his ankle brought his

attention back to Abdur. His lover tilted his head slightly in the
direction of the tunnel they were supposed to take. Nodding, he
acknowledged Abdur’s silent suggestion.

“We are better than our circumstances allow us to be, but we

must fight for the opportunity to prove it to the world. I must go,
but I’m trusting that you’ll do whatever you need to do to survive
and win this war.”

Everyone started cheering again as he climbed down from the

top of the crates into Abdur’s arms. As they strolled to the tunnel,
people touched and patted Wendall’s arms and back. Even though
Abdur didn’t stop them from doing that, Wendall noticed he did
seem to stay alert to what they had in their hands.

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130

Yacov met them at the entrance and handed them lanterns.

“You can take them with you. There are writing supplies in with
the rest. You can send back updates with the traders you pass along
the way.”

“Do you already have routes set up and people we can trust to

accept the messages?” Wendall checked his lantern before he let
Abdur light it.

“Yes. All of those have been set up like you asked. It took a

little bit of coin, but none of the traders know who you are and
what you’ll be sending us.” Yacov held out his hand. “Have a safe
trip, sir, and we’ll see you when you come back.”

“Keep things going here, Yacov, but like I said, if things get

terrible, please get everyone out of New Slum before the military
kills them all.” Wendall stressed his orders to Yacov.

“Certainly, sir. We have it all taken care of.” Yacov turned to

look at Abdur. “Take care of him. He’s the most important piece of
this whole fight.”

“I will protect him with my life,” Abdur promised.
Yacov nodded once more before he turned to walk away.

Wendall looked at Abdur, who held out his hand. He took a hold of
Abdur’s fingers, and together they made their way down the
tunnel.

“Are you going to miss New Slum?”
Wendall glanced over at Abdur. “If I were to chose right at this

moment, I’d say no. I won’t miss the rat-infested ghetto where I
watched my father, mother and sister die. I have no interest in
living in a city where I’m treated like shit and confined to a small
space of land I’m not allowed to leave.”

“So no, you’re not going to miss it?”
“No, I won’t miss a lot of New Slum, but there are things I will

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131

miss about it.” He paused at a fork in the path and looked for the
arrow pointing them in the right direction.

Abdur gestured to the right. “This way. What things will you

miss?”

“Well, I know the longer we’re traveling west, the more I’ll

miss my room at The Pink Carnation and my bed.” He laughed,
and Abdur joined in. “I’ll tell you the truth. It’s not things I’ll miss,
but people. I have a lot of friends in New Slum, and I’ll miss them.
Some people might think we fight amongst ourselves for what little
we’re given, but I’ve found most of us banded together. We helped
each other out whenever we could.”

“You’ll miss the friendships you’ve created. I understand that. I

still miss the men I served with, even though it’s been several
months since they died.” Abdur headed down the path.

A rush of cool, fresh air flowed past them, giving Wendall a

clue they were getting close to the end of the tunnel. He took
Abdur’s hand, and they walked out together.

It was still dark outside, with the stars shining brightly in the

night sky. Two horses  were  tethered to a tree a  few  feet  from the
entrance.  Wendall  grimaced,  wishing  they  could  travel  by
horseless  carriage,  but  having  one  of  those  tended  to  draw
attention.

“Do you know how to ride?” He turned to ask Abdur. “I know

it’s a little late to ask now.”

After handing his lantern to Wendall, he walked up to one of

the horses to stroke the animal’s nose. “Yes, I learned to ride when
I was young. Worked on a farm in the New France countryside.”

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do if you

couldn’t ride.” Wendall turned off the lanterns before joining
Abdur by the horses. He checked the girth and every other piece of

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132

tack.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Yacov or any of the others. It was

simply he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. He hung his
lantern from the saddle horn before mounting. Abdur did the same,
and they turned away from the tunnel to head down the faint trail
leading to the main road.

Wendall stopped at the top of a hill to look back at the walls

surrounding New City. He thought about all his friends he’d left
behind and those who’d gone on to find refuge in the neighboring
countries. Would he ever see any of them again? Would any of
them survive the revolution? Hell, would he survive?

Abdur leaned over and rested his hand on Wendall’s arm.

When Wendall looked at him, he smiled.

“You’ll return,” Abdur told him.
Wendall grinned at him. “I know. When The Whore is needed,

I’ll appear to boost morale and, hopefully, give them good news
about allies.”

“Doesn’t matter what happens. I’ll be by your side the entire

time,” Abdur promised.

“I will offer you the same oath. We’ll be together through

everything because I love you and my world would mean nothing
without you.”

Maybe his words sounded sappy, but it was what he felt in his

heart.

“We were each outcasts in our own way, and fate—or God—or

whoever you want to believe in—brought us together. There is
nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even to giving up my life to keep
you safe.” Wendall took Abdur’s hand in his.

“I love you, Wendall. That’s all I can say or want to say.”

Abdur raised Wendall’s hand to his mouth.

HASE

T.  A.  Chase  lives  a  life  without  boundaries.  Being  fascinated  by
life  and  how  different  we  all  are,  she  writes  about  the  things  that
make  us  unique.  She  finds  beauty  in  all  kinds  of  love  and  enjoys
sharing  those  insights.  When  she  isn’t  writing,  she’s  watching
movies, reading and living life to the fullest.

* * *

Don’t miss Soothe The Burn

by T. A. Chase,

available at AmberAllure.com!

Captain Alvix has a secret. One he’s managed to keep hidden for
years  until  a  stranger  comes  to  his  rescue  and  shakes  up  Alvix’s
perfect world. Suddenly, Alvix finds himself doing things he never
imagined he would and revealing his deepest secret to a man made
of metal.

Lieutenant Cooper is the leader of an elite group of military men.
Their loyalty to the Galactic Military led them to volunteer for an
experiment  that  changed  their  skin  into  titanium  flesh.  On  a
desperate  rescue  mission,  Cooper  enlists  the  help  of  Alvix  and,
with that one action, changes their lives forever.

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