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Wings of Salvation
Amber Heat, the erotic imprint of Amber Quill Press Read the Reviews
Excerpt from Wings of Salvation: ::Well, have you learned anything yet?:: Andras sighed. Another thing about he and his brother being twins was the telepathic communication. Again, sometimes good, sometimes bad. He had to admit it had gotten him out of more than one difficult situation over the last twenty-seven years. ::No, Dario, now leave me alone and focus on keeping our parents occupied.:: ::They're fine. Right now they're engaged in conversation with our grandmother.:: Andras narrowed his gaze and searched the darkened interior of the bar. He spotted Marius at a back table, piles of gold coin pieces stacked before the moneylender. Using coins for trade was rather a newer method of barter on Vrotia. But the city populations had grown and the old ways were fast becoming obsolete. It was only within the last fifteen or twenty years that this new exchange had been created. And the dark side had taken to the exchange with rapidity. Andras reached down to the pouch tied to his leather belt. He had a feeling that whatever Marius had for sale was not going to be cheap. His hunger for coin was well known. "One," he said to the barkeep and then tossed a coin onto the polished wood surface of the bar. The heavily tattooed tender handed him an amber bottle and swiped up the coin piece. Andras tipped the bottle and let the cool liquid slide down his throat. ::Andras! Get going. Find out what that note meant and get back here.:: The voice of demanding reason inside his head. No matter where he went, his brother always had a way of reeling him back in. It would be rude to block him out, particularly right now. But there were times when distance played a part in the clarity of their twin communication. He could not refuse the demands of the other side of their nature. Particularly, since his brother was the older by ten minutes. Age did have its advantages, even when gauged in minutes, and Dario never hesitated to remind him of who was the older of the two. Slowly, Andras sauntered over to the moneylender. It wouldn't do to appear too eager for the information. The price would certainly go up. Greasy blond hair, thickened waist, bulbous stomach, and small, beady eyes which summed up the potential value of everything and everyone around him. He sat counting his coins, chewing on an overcooked piece of unidentifiable meat, slobbering down drink from a bottle. He wiped the back of his stained hand across his pudgy, wet mouth. A lean-faced woman with short, purple corkscrewed hair sat next to him, pressing herself against the sleazy Marius, licking at his ear, her hand inching across his wide, flabby thigh, toward where Andras assumed was a penis resting somewhere among all those folds of fat. Her outfit skimpy, barely covering her more than generously endowed frame, she was obviously a whoreplayer. She wore a red studded collar around her neck with a chain attached, and Andras saw the end of it looped around Marius's fat wrist. Obviously, she belonged to him, the color of the collar indicating she was paid up for the night. Andras watched as Marius turned and kissed the whoreplayer, and she rubbed her body against his massive one. It made Andras's stomach twist at the wanton scene displayed before him. At once the earthy smells in the bar assaulted him, stale ale, body sweat, and purchased sex. He definitely wanted to get this over with and get out. "Marius," he greeted as he slammed his ale bottle on the table. The stacks of gold pieces rocked threateningly under the assault. That got Marius's attention. He shot around and glared up at Andras. Then apparently thought better of saying something as Andras pushed back the hood of his cloak revealing his identity. The towering muscular height as well as the telltale shoulder-length blue-black hair that matched the color of his wings, and the molasses-rich eyes with raptor intensity obviously had Marius thinking twice before he chose to speak. Instead, grumbling under his breath, he swept a hand outward indicating the other side of the table, pointing to the vacant chair. "Have a seat. You're late." He slid the loop at the end of the silver chain from his wrist and glanced at the woman sitting next to him. "Get me another drink. Give us a dance before you come back." He held up one glittering coin and flashed it before her. "If I like it, this is yours." Andras saw her eyes gleam with avarice as she reached out to snatch up the coin. Marius's fist closed over it, and she darted a sly glance at him. "The dance. On the bar. You know what I want. If I'm happy with it and how you perform for the rest of the time I've paid for, you get the gold piece." Andras studied her as she surveyed Marius with hard, fluorescent green eyes. Probably she was trying to decide exactly how far she could push him and still keep the deal lucrative for herself. Finally she nodded and slid from behind the table. "I'll signal when you can come back. Watch for it. I have things to discuss with my friend here. Private negotiations." Andras knew that's exactly what it would be. A negotiation. He just wondered how expensive it was going to get and whether it was worth it. In their search for Flaire, there had been more dead ends than he cared to remember. The woman sauntered away, swinging her hips, brushing against Andras as she went. Her sickeningly sweet scent wafted over him as she moved past. He looked at Marius, who leered at him. "I don't think she's your type, featherboy..."
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Stories on this Site are the original works of Adrianna Dane Copyright 2005-2007 Adrianna Dane |
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