WRITTEN IN BLOOD | The Unnatural Brethren | Preview {Unedited}

4. The Roads to Pleasure and Perdition

Dawn's first rays tinged the sky when I walked out of the establishment. No sooner had the signs of my drunkenness started to wear off than I had already taken hold of another bottle of wine.

Numbed beyond my senses, that is how I wanted to stay –and how I had managed to stay in the last eight years.

Bristol opened its eyes to a new day. The first squawking chant of seagulls reminded me how close I was to the quay.

"Ivan...," she said, and her voice was pristine as the chiming of a silver bell. By the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of her sensuous body leaned against the door's jamb, "you forgot something..."

I smiled and then turned back.

"Did I?" I said. "And what would that be, dearest Brigitte?"

What more could she want?

With sluggish steps, I moved close to her and yielded my body's weight against the door's jamb as well. My eyes lingered on her wavy auburn hair and rosy cheeks, pale freckles and pink lips.

A pair of lovers, we seemed. A lady and his betrothed, meeting at the break of day, exchanging furtive glances and saying their farewells, unwilling to part from each other's arms... However dearly I cared for this image, it could not be further from the truth. She was no more a lady than I was a nobleman. Reality seeped through the veil of illusion; she was a French courtesan of London's Rosemary Lane and I, nothing more than a paying consumer of her service.

I had paid her in full before spending the night with her. What could I possibly owe her?

"Well...?" I whispered.

She pressed something into my hand. It was round and metallic, and as soon as I figured what she had done, I shook my head.

"No, no, no..." I mused.

Two gold coins. The two guineas I had given her the night before.

"Have I done something to displease you?" I had to ask. Why else would she return the money to me?

Brigitte's green eyes shimmered for an instant and half a smile drew on her face.

"You are much mistaken," she said. "This is too much, Ivan."

"You are worth every shilling, my dear..." I mused as I slid the money back into her hand.

"Well, in that case," she opened her lace-gloved hand and took a coin, "you get one guinea too..."

Brigitte winked.

As much as I could, I contained the sudden impulse of laughter that assaulted me. I only refrained from it because she might have taken offense, and misjudge my blissful reaction for that of scorn.

I took the money and slipped it into my pocket. A wave of warmth rushed to my face, and I laughed under my breath. All in all, I found myself flattered by someone whose professional experience outshined mine.

"God!" I said as I stepped away from the tavern's entrance. "I love Bristol!" My hands waved in the air, without ever losing sight of the wine, of course.

Brigitte's laughter, crisp and natural, resonated as my steps led me away from the house that had seen more of me in the last few days than my own home.

The vanity of her praise gave me a reason to smile. But as I smiled, the ephemeral quality of my happiness soon became transparent.

Dearest Brigitte, you were right to give me half the earnings, for you and I are equals... Both of us carry more sins on our own than one man alone could bear.