The soft, playful melody of an accordion and flute filled the brothel along with the intermingling sounds of laughter and drunken blares. Pirates, scoundrels, and even the wealthy were lounged about couches with voluptuous women in their laps and beer and wine on their tables. They smoked hookah and munched on grapes, cheese, and other edibles that kept hunger at bay, but nothing sated the hunger of their loins like a fine woman.
As a red-faced smiling gentleman staggered toward the door, he wrapped his fingers about the bronze knob and drew it open to walk right into what felt to be a wall. The man staggered backwards before he fell upon his bum and from the pair of legs he saw in front of him, he craned his head up the doorframe to where the strangerâs head was not visible. The visitorâs frame blocked the door, and silence fell over the guests. Eyes were upon the stranger as he lowered his head to get through the entrance. His steps were felt through the floor, and the boards groaned beneath the weight of Mercurian bone and muscle. With the hat veiling his face, the man was shrouded in mystery. His torn pants, lack of footwear, and the sack he carried in his hand made him look shipwrecked, having perhaps just washed up upon the beach. It was clear that the jacket he wore didnât fit him, having been split at the sleeves to reveal stark-white arms with the brands of a pirate all over them.
The inebriated man curled his legs, drawing them closer to his chest fearful that the giant would step upon them. When his shadow collapsed over him like a blanket, with his head tipped as far back as it could naturally go, he saw the two eyes that peered down at him from spheres of darkness. They looked like rings of gold, glinting softly and stealing his breath on asphyxiated whimpers. With a sudden wail, the drunk jumped to his feet and nearly stumbled on his way out the door as he screamed:
âMonster! Muh-muh-monster!â
The guests silently watched the man leave before their attention apprehensively returned to the stranger.
One of the unoccupied girls waiting the tables approached him, a little nervously, but she was good at hiding it. To the guests, she was bold and probably a fool. She was a young thing. Shame to see such a girl with a whole life ahead of her at a brothel. She had rich, dark spiraling hair, pink lips and cheeks. She stopped just out of the visitorâs reach with her serving tray against her lap and through hazel eyes peered up at the mysterious gentleman. She couldnât see his face beneath the lip of his hat, but the presence he bore was thick and foreign.
âWelcome. The mistress is busy, but I will do my best to tend to your needs,â said the serving girl.
She watched the smile curl at his lips as he shook his bag and from it came the chime of coin. âI got me a bag âere witâ some things ye might find nice. Ahâm jusâ wonderinâ who tâgive it to.â
The girl bowed her head, her tresses tumbling forward to veil her intrigued smile and the brief redness that came to her cheeks. She had heard the weight of the gold and couldnât deny her urges to acquire it. If a man had gold, monster or not, sheâd happily take it off his hands.
Raising her head, the girl sighed a breath of refreshment and extended her arm over to an empty lounge with pink, silk curtains, pillows, and a hookah pipe.
âThis way. Youâll be with me,â she told him.
The teeth he flashed at her as he started for the lounge made her jump a little. What kind of man had teeth like that? What had she gotten herself into? She followed behind him, inspecting small distinct features such as the strange seams that extended down his forearms. She even thought that she saw his skin move beneath his armpits. Had she really been about to entertain a beast?
As they passed the stairwell, the serving girl slowed, staring up at the second floor with concern glinting in her eyes. Mako peered over his shoulder and stopped, eyes flicking up to the second floor briefly before they returned to her.
âWhot is it?â he asked.
The girlâs attentioned snapped back to her guest, her eyes widening a little. âN-nothing. Itâs justâŠthe mistress; Madame Aja left some time before you arrived to check on one of the girls. She just hasnât come back down. I guess Iâm a little concerned.â
Mako made a face, his nose wrinkling and lips drooping in a frown. He normally wouldnât have cared, but the girl had hinted that this Madame Aja was her boss. If something happened to her employer, then the brothel wouldnât last for as long as he had hoped to spend in it. The fish hissed and turned toward the girl, walking past her as he silently started up the stairs.
âWait! You canât go up there unescorted!â she called as she grabbed her pink dress by the skirts and raised them to quickly follow after him.
âThen escort me!â the shark growled though he still continued to lead the way.
Down the hall were a group of men crowding a bedroom. Their bioelectric signatures flickered before his eyes along with the two that were in the bedroom, and as he strode closer, he watched a woman step out and she didnât look too thrilled to see the men there.
Yelling followed, and when one of the scumbags raised his hand against the fae, the serving girl squeaked, âMadame Aja!â
Mako took note of the womanâs description and threw his weight forward as he advanced like a shark pursuing prey.
No, I think weâll rather enjoy this,
One of the men happened to look away from the fae to see the massive man lunge upon his buddies. With a startled cry, he tried to alert them: âLook out!â
Makoâs left and right forearms swung out against the necks of the two ruffians' bodies, slamming them against opposite walls before his fins slid free of their filmy sheath to stretch like blades across the dazed menâs throats. They felt the hairline cut of a knife stinging their flesh and their eyes bulged at the strange protrusions coming from the creatureâs arms. They danced upon the toes of their feet, trembling fearfully for one slip could have their throats slit.
The third one had wailed and drew his sword to stab it up at the beastâs face. From beneath the manâs hat, he heard a clang of metal and felt the vibrations reverberate throughout his hands. He grasped the hilt with both hands and tried to force the sword onward only to watch the cheap blade bend as Mako bent at the waist, lowering his gait so that his black, ghostly eyes could stare into the manâs face.
The ruffian paled, seeing his blade clenched between teeth that were large and jagged like a shark. His weapon had bent like a spoon and with the jerk of Makoâs head was stripped right from his grip and thrown against the wall.
âYe know the last bloke who puttaâ sword in me face I bit âis face clean off,â Mako shared as the corners of his mouth twisted into a malicious grin.
The man slowly stepped back in silent terror and looked to his pinned buddies before he turned tail and ran.
âMadame Aja!â the serving girl called as she moved around Makoâs hip to check on her employer. She reached a hand for her cheek not liking the harm she had faced.