Read Sevin: Lords of Satyr for Free Online

humans.
    In the distance, a carousel turned with mesmerizing slowness. Lacquered dragons, unicorns, and other fantastic creatures pumped up and down upon it, some bearing riders engaged in amatory embraces, and others who rode alone, exhibiting themselves for the voyeuristic entertainment of the room at large.
    His new hire Ella was among the latter, he noted, and she had drawn an appreciative crowd of spectators as she undulated sinuously on a demonic dragon. Seeing him, she sent him a sultry smile and reached out in his direction, coyly beckoning him closer with a sly curl of her fingers. He returned her smile with one of his own and a nod, but felt no pull to venture closer.
    He had another woman on his mind. Alexa. The remembered shape and texture of her flesh still burned his hands, and her taste was still fresh in his mouth.
    But he would not have either woman tonight, or any night. Instead he would lie with Shimmerskins—a breed of insentient females who had serviced the Satyr’s lustful needs since ancient times. In recent years when he’d been so busy with building and then operating the salon, they had become familiar companions to him. They were convenient and accommodating sybaritic partners, who simply disappeared into the mist from which they’d come when he had no further lustful need of them.
    Yet his engagements with them were becoming unsatisfying of late, and he’d rarely bothered over the past few weeks. If he didn’t watch himself, he would become like Luc, foregoing all carnal pleasures except once a month during the Calling, when he had no choice but to yield to his body’s demands.
    All thoughts of fleshly pleasure were instantly set aside when he was approached by one of the sharp-eyed guards. Two dozen or so were stationed at discreet intervals within the salon to ensure that no trouble erupted.
    “There’s been an incident in the east wing,” the man announced sotto voce . “A small explosive device discovered in the liquor bar. Your brothers have gathered there—fortunately they contained it when it went off.”
    “It went off? Gods, man, don’t leave such details to the end next time.” All business now, Sevin made for the east wing himself, hurrying without seeming to hurry. No need to draw more attention to this minor disaster. Everyone was agitated enough already with the moon’s coming and the upheaval outside tonight.
    He found his brothers gathered like three dark pillars around the larger-than-life statue of Bacchus—the focal point in the center of the main liquor bar. Eva and Silvia were nowhere in evidence and presumably awaited Dane and Bastian in two of the many private and semiprivate chambers that ringed the central salon. Likely they were even now being pampered and prepared in anticipation of the sensual rites they would soon enjoy with their husbands.
    Upon seeing him arrive, Dane gestured to the statue’s pedestal. “You missed the excitement.” When he stepped back, Sevin saw that the pedestal and floor tiles surrounding it had been blackened and damaged. An ugly pile of charred and twisted debris was being swept away by servants.
    Atop the pedestal, the Roman wine god stood frozen in gold-veined stone, appearing blithely unaffected. Grape vines wreathed his hair and a wine goblet was extended in one hand as he offered a toast, one made in celebration of the fleshly delights all comers might enjoy in this idyll of his making.
    Sevin’s brothers held no goblets yet, which meant they had not begun the ritual that would initiate the changes that would occur in them with the fullness of the moon. They’d been waiting for him.
    Bastian held out a gnarled ball of mangled metal and Sevin took it, turning it over in his hands. “What am I looking at?”
    “It’s an artifact of some kind. Was, I mean. It’s rubble now.” Bastian took it back and studied it with the concentrated fascination he typically reserved for two things: archaeological artifacts and his