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Wicked Villains
Ruthless Villains
Book Two

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Marion Blackwood

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 Contents

Content warnings

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38

Bonus scene
Acknowledgments

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 Copyright © 2022 by Marion Blackwood

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in
writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review. For more
information, contact [email protected]

First edition

ISBN 978-91-988023-5-1 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-91-988023-4-4 (paperback)
ISBN 978-91-988023-3-7 (ebook)

Editing by Julia Gibbs

Cover design by Claire Holt with
Luminescence Covers (www.luminescencecovers.com)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

www.marionblackwood.com

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 Content warnings

The Ruthless Villains series is intended for mature readers. It contains

graphic violence and sexual content. Not to mention that the two main
characters are villains who do immoral things both to others and to each
other. If you have specific triggers, you can find the full list of content
warnings at www.marionblackwood.com/content-warnings

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For all the overachieving perfectionistic control freaks who might actually
enjoy handing over power to someone else every once in a while

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 Chapter 1

S creams echoed through the dungeon. I wasn’t sure where they had
taken Lance Carmichael or exactly what they were doing, but it didn’t
sound like he was having fun. Leaning back against the stone wall of
my cell, I stretched out my legs before me and brushed some dirt off my
riding pants.
Since there were no windows in Callan’s basement, I couldn’t tell for
sure what time it was. But based on the number of meals I had received
since that bastard had locked me in here, I would guess that it had been
roughly a day and a half since we had arrived at his mansion. After Callan
had informed me that he would let me live for now, he had removed my
handcuffs and then locked me in the cell that was located as far from Lance
as possible. But after that, I hadn’t seen him. He was probably busy
thinking about how he was going to torture me.
I, on the other hand, was busy plotting my escape. And his death.
Sudden silence pressed against my eardrums as Lance at last stopped
screaming. I heaved a sigh of relief because that annoying noise had made it
difficult to think, and I needed all the brain capacity I had if I was going to
scheme my way out of this precarious situation. What I needed more than
anything was my magic, which meant that I had to somehow get my hands
on Lance. And the key to his handcuffs. If I could just get my powers back,
I should be able to kill my way out of this mansion. But to get the key, I
would need—
 Footsteps sounded outside my door. Sitting on the mattress by the back
wall, I watched through the small barred window in the metal door as
Henry and Lance walked past. Callan’s mountain of a guard looked stoic as
usual, but the Binder was visibly exhausted. I really wondered what they
were doing to him.
Metal clanked from the end of the row, informing me that Henry had
locked Lance back in his cell. Then the footsteps started back up again. I
listened to them, expecting them to continue past my door, as they always
did. But not this time.
The lock clicked as Henry turned the key and then pulled open the door
to my cell. I remained where I was.
Henry’s massive form filled the entire doorway as he took a step across
the threshold. Flames from the torches on the walls created a backlight,
making his tall and muscular body look even more imposing.
Tilting my head back, I met his gray eyes. “So… is it my turn now?”
“Yes,” he replied before twitching his fingers at me. “On your feet.”
Cold dread washed over me. I had thought that Callan would focus on
torturing Lance into submission before he got started on me. A spike of
panic shot up my spine. Maybe he had already broken Lance. Maybe that
was why it was already my turn. If Callan had the Binder firmly under his
control, there would be no way to challenge him, even if I managed to
escape. Hell damn it all, I had thought that I would have more time.
Frantic plans swirled through my mind as I pushed to my feet and then
moved closer to Henry. He took a step back out of the cell while raising his
arm.
“If you put a hand on me, I will break every single one of your fingers,”
I warned him as I followed him across the threshold.
He let out a huff of amusement, but made no move to grab my arm.
Instead, he just closed the cell door behind me and then jerked his chin
towards the stairs. “Let’s go.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I ascended the steps with Henry
looming behind me. I remembered the layout, and if we were going upstairs
into the actual mansion, I should be able to make a run for the door. It
would be reckless and insane, but it was better than just walking willingly
to my execution.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I placed a hand on the handle and
pushed it down. Relief fluttered through me when I realized that it wasn’t
locked. Darting through the small opening, I threw the door shut right in
Henry’s face while sprinting in the direction of the main exit.
Angry curses echoed behind me, and a second later, the door banged
open again. But I was already running.
Rounding the corner, I skidded into the next hallway.
And right into a wall of men with swords.
Alarm clanged through me, and I had to backpedal furiously to avoid
crashing right into the sharp blades. While I was still trying to recover my
balance, a large hand wrapped around my upper arm. It was followed by
cold steel across my throat.
I glared at the guards who had blocked my way to the door while Henry
hauled me away. They just smirked back at me.
Henry kept his knife against my throat and his hand around my arm as
he led me towards the study I had seen when I was here last time. It struck
me as a bit odd that Callan would pick that particular room to torture and
kill people in. How was he supposed to keep the books on the shelves from
being splattered with blood?
My musings were interrupted when Henry slammed me to a halt right
outside the study. Removing his hand from my arm, he instead took my
collar in a firm grip and yanked me closer to his face, forcing me to balance
on my toes. The knife stayed at my throat, and when his gray eyes locked
on mine, they were hard as granite.
“If you do anything to hurt him, you and I are gonna have some serious
problems,” he warned in a voice that rumbled like thunder.
Raising my chin defiantly, I glared up at him. “Is that right?”
“Watch your mouth. And watch your fucking step because I will be
tracking every move you make.”
Before I could retort, Henry shifted his grip to my arm again and
dragged me across the threshold and into the study. My stomach lurched.
By all hell, I really was out of time now.
A neat room filled with books, and furniture made of dark wood,
appeared around me. Callan Blackwell was leaning against the smooth desk
by the window. He had changed out of the mundane shirts and pants he had
worn during our mission in Eldar, and was now once more wearing his dark
leather armor. Half-sitting on the edge of the desk, he had his arms crossed
over his muscular chest while also resting one ankle across the other. It was
such a casual pose of absolute command that it made my heart skip a beat.
 Golden light from the afternoon sun fell in through the windows and
illuminated his face on one side. I tried to read the expression in his dark
brown eyes, but they gave nothing away.
Callan held my gaze for a few seconds before letting it glide over the
knife at my throat and Henry’s hand around my arm. As we came to a halt
two steps inside the door, Callan raised his eyebrows in silent question.
“She tried to make a run for the front door,” Henry answered.
He snorted. “Of course she did.” Keeping his arms crossed, he jerked
his chin at Henry. “Close the door on your way out.”
“Yes, boss.”
The sharp blade disappeared from my neck, as did the large hand
around my arm. I suppressed the urge to rub the skin where the knife had
been, and instead forced myself to just stand there while Henry disappeared
out the door and closed it behind him.
It clicked shut with an ominous sound that seemed to echo into the
study.
The room wasn’t overly large, but Callan and I were positioned almost
as far away from each other as we could get. Though, as I studied him from
across the dark wooden floor, I couldn’t help but feel as though his presence
somehow filled the whole room. His power seemed to pulse through the air
and press against my body from all sides.
This time, though, I wasn’t going to be the one speaking first. I wasn’t
going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he held all the power. So
I said nothing.
Neither did Callan. His intense gaze bored into my very soul as he
studied me. A few clouds drifted over the sun, casting the room in shadow
for a while before the golden light returned. Outside the door, faint metallic
clanking sounded.
“I have decided not to kill you,” Callan announced at last.
Surprise crackled through me. After all the awful things I had done to
Callan over the years, I had been certain that there would be a painful and
humiliating death waiting for me when he had finished playing with me.
The realization that he was actually going to let me live, and not just
temporarily, was still ricocheting through my brain so all I managed was,
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I have come to the realization that letting you live as my prisoner
will be a much worse fate for you.”
 Hope sparkled inside me. He wasn’t going to kill me, which meant that
my chance to escape and get my magic back was now within reach again.
While keeping that hope firmly off my face, I replied, “I see.”
“I could also allow you to move out of the dungeon and into a real room
inside the mansion.”
“Really? In exchange for what?”
That glittering flicker of hope swirled up inside me again, but it was
quickly smothered by a wave of dread. If I was in a real room, my chances
to escape would increase even more. However, if Callan was about to make
me swear a blood oath in exchange for it, then my plan would be over
before it even began. Dark mages broke agreements and treaties all the
time. The only thing that was holy to us was a blood oath, and those were
not made lightly.
The silence stretched on. Since I knew that he was doing it on purpose
just to mess with me, I only continued staring at him from across the room.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Beg me for it,” he said at last.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “What?”
“If you want me to allow you to stay in a real room, then beg me for it.”
That challenging smirk that had been lurking on his features slid fully onto
his mouth. “You’re proud and fierce, and you hate begging, so that’s exactly
what I’m going to make you do. You’re my prisoner now, so if you want
something, you beg me for it.”
Relief flooded my chest. He wasn’t going to make me swear a blood
oath. However, I couldn’t let him know that I was actually relieved by his
demand, so I let out a dismissive huff and clicked my tongue.
“Unless you prefer the cell?” he pushed.
I narrowed my eyes at him and then blew out an irritated breath. “No.”
“Thought so.”
Another short silence fell. Power rolled off Callan’s body as he simply
watched me from across the room. I glared back at him.
“I’m going to kill you one day,” I announced.
He huffed out a laugh and arched a dark eyebrow at me. “Without your
magic? Good luck with that, sweetheart.”
“You just wait.”
“I am waiting. And I’m quickly running out of patience. You now have
ten seconds to get over here and get down on your knees. So if you want
that room, go ahead.” He cast a pointed look at the floor in front of his feet.
“Grovel.”
Since I very much needed that room in order to have any sort of chance
to succeed with my escape plan, I immediately started across the floor.
Callan didn’t move. Only his eyes tracked me as I walked closer to him.
When I reached the spot a single stride before his feet, I stopped and locked
eyes with him.
“You have two seconds left,” he said.
Holding his gaze, I lowered myself to my knees.
“Good.” Still half-sitting on the edge of the desk with his arms crossed,
he stared me down. “Now beg.”
A small tremor of dark desire coursed through me. Hell damn it all, why
was I turned on by this? Blowing out a measured breath, I tried to shove
those feelings aside.
“Please let me stay in a room,” I said.
“Surely you can do better than that,” he scoffed.
“Please, Callan, will you allow me to stay in a room?”
At last, he straightened from the desk. Uncrossing his arms, he leaned
down and took my chin in a firm grip. His breath danced across my skin as
he held my jaw steady while bringing his face closer to mine. When he
spoke, his voice pulsed with command.
“I said, grovel.”
Heat flooded my core. I hated him so much, but by all hell, he was so
fucking hot when he wielded power and control like that. And I did really
need that room.
“Please, sir.” Something dark flickered in his eyes when I said that last
word. “I’m begging you to allow me the privilege of staying in a room.”
For a few more seconds, he just kept me like that while his gaze seared
into me. Then he relaxed his grip and drew his fingers softly along my jaw.
A slow smile spread across his lips as he let out a dark laugh.
“Good girl.”

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 Chapter 2

A thrill of desire shot through me. By all hell, all I wanted to do was to
yank her up from the floor so that I could claim that pretty mouth of
hers for myself. But that could never happen now. Not after I double-
crossed her and had Lance bind her magic. She would never forgive me for
that. So instead of doing what I really wanted to do, I drank in the sight of
her kneeling before me. Groveling before me. Because damn, that was a
sight I would never get tired of either.
“Does that mean you will let me move into a room?” she asked, looking
up at me.
“Yes, it does.”
Locking her into a cell had only ever been a temporary solution. I didn’t
want her sleeping on a mattress in the damn dungeon. I wanted her to have
her own room with a comfortable bed and access to a bathroom with a
shower whenever she wanted. But I couldn’t tell her that. I could never,
ever, let her find out that I actually cared about her. So until I could find a
way to get rid of the infuriating feelings that I now harbored for this bloody
poison mage, orchestrating power plays like this would make sure that she
never found out about it.
“Aren’t you going to thank me for my generosity?” I baited while
arching an expectant eyebrow at her.
Her green eyes flashed, and she gave me a smile that promised revenge.
“Thank you for your generosity.”
 “We’re gonna have to work on your manners later.” I shot her a smirk
before twitching my fingers at her. “Get up.”
She pushed to her feet, but didn’t step back. Staring up at me from only
a step away, it looked as though she considered doing something incredibly
stupid for a moment. I cocked my head, waiting to see if she would. In the
end, she just forced her gaze away and lowered her chin. I let out a dark
chuckle.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Brushing past her, I strode towards the door. She followed.
Henry was waiting in the hallway right outside the door, and when I
started towards the stairs, he took up position behind Audrey’s back to
make sure that she wouldn’t try to run for the front door again.
I could feel her eyes burning holes in my body while we made our way
upstairs. If she’d had any sort of weapon at that point, I knew without a
doubt that she would have stabbed it in my back.
The wooden floorboards creaked as we at last reached the corridor
where my bedroom was located. I wanted her as close to me as possible, so
I had opted for the spare bedroom across the hall. It had come with the
house, and since it was so close to my own bedroom and thus a potential
security risk, it had never been used for anything. While I had waited for
the appropriate time to pass until I could give Audrey this offer, my people
had been busy cleaning that room and getting it ready for her to use.
Pulling the door open, I strode inside with Audrey at my heels. Henry
stayed out in the corridor.
When her footsteps behind me fell silent, I turned to face her.
She was standing in the middle of the room while those intelligent eyes
of hers swept across every inch of it. Her gaze drifted over the open
doorway that led into the bathroom before she studied the bookshelf along
the wall. Then she shifted her attention to the comfortable double bed by
the window.
“This isn’t the room you used when you fucked that dark-haired woman
from the theater,” she said.
Audrey knew full well that she hadn’t been from the theater, but that jab
missed its mark because her comment made something else flare up inside
me. However, I wasn’t sure what or why, so all I said was, “No.”
She didn’t seem to know what to say to that either, so she just closed her
mouth again.
 “Get over here,” I said.
Irritation flickered over her face at the command, but she walked across
the dark wooden floor to stand at the foot of the bed.
“Henry,” I called.
Metallic rattling filled the room as Henry tossed me a chain. Grabbing it
in one hand, I crouched down next to the bed while Audrey frowned at me.
There were padded manacles at each end of the chain, and I locked one of
them around Audrey’s ankle with efficient moves before snapping the other
shut around one of the bed’s legs. I’d had the bed bolted to the floor, so
there was no way for her to simply lift it to get the chain off.
After I finished locking her to the bedframe, I pocketed the key and
stood up.
Audrey shot a pointed glance at the manacles before giving me a flat
look. “Really?”
“I prefer my guests chained to the bed.” Brushing my hand over her jaw,
I leaned down and smirked in her face. “And if I remember correctly, you
prefer it too.”
A shudder passed through her body.
Alarm shot through mine as I realized that I might have taken it too far
with that. The last thing I wanted was for her to think that I was planning to
force myself on her. I would never do that. Ever.
Stepping back abruptly, I spun around and stalked towards the door
instead. Chains clinked behind me as if Audrey had taken a step forward,
but I didn’t turn around to find out. Without looking back into the room, I
closed the door behind me and instead turned to face the two men waiting
for me outside.
Henry was there, which I had already expected. But so was Yuito, one
of my other guards.
“What is it?” I demanded.
Yuito raked a hand through his straight black hair and drew in a breath
as if he had just sprinted up the stairs. “Sam Foster is here.”
I suppressed the urge to groan. That was fast. I had hoped that I would
have a few more days before the other dark mages realized that I had
screwed them over. But apparently, they were all far too clever for that.
“Alright,” I said, and then jerked my chin towards the chair outside
Audrey’s room. “You have the first watch. Henry, you’re with me.”
“Yes, boss,” they replied in unison.
 Our feet thumped against the steps as we made our way back down the
stairs and towards the study.
When I once more stepped across the threshold, my eyes were drawn to
the spot where Audrey had been kneeling only a few minutes ago.
“Well, hello, you double-dealing double-crosser,” a voice said lightly.
I snapped my gaze to the guy it belonged to.
Sam Foster had drawn himself up on my desk and was sitting on top of
it with his legs dangling over the side. His blond hair looked almost golden
in the light from the afternoon sun, and there was an amused sparkle in his
gray eyes. He didn’t look nearly as pissed off as I had assumed he would
be.
“Sam,” I said in greeting.
“So, you screwed us over and took Lance for yourself?”
I moved closer to Sam while Henry took up position by the door.
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Sam scrunched up his eyebrows and blew out a breath. “I really
thought that I had prevented that by making you and Audrey team up. I was
so sure that you’d be able to keep each other in check so that neither one of
you would be able to disappear with Lance on your own.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“No worries.” He leaned sideways and peered around me towards the
door. “By the way, where is Audrey?” Before I could reply, he sat up
straight again and gave me an exasperated look. “Let me guess… Dead in a
ditch somewhere?”
“No, she’s upstairs. But she’s a bit tied up at the moment.” I shrugged.
“We actually reached an agreement and decided to partner up.”
“You and Audrey?”
“Yeah.”
“Partner up?”
“Yes.”
Sam blew out a long breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “Wow.
Out of all the worst-case scenarios I had considered, that one was so
outlandish that it didn’t even make the list.”
I just shrugged again. “Turns out she’s actually really good at what she
does. And we figured that by teaming up, we’d be able to wield
considerably more power together.”
“Huh.”
 Silence fell. For a while, Sam just sat there atop my desk and studied
me with an unreadable look on his face. Clothes rustled faintly as Henry
shifted his position somewhere behind me.
“So…” Sam began at last. “Are you going to use Lance Carmichael to
bind my magic or to threaten me into submission?”
“You?” I shook my head. “No. Never.”
He tipped his head from side to side as if considering. Then he shrugged
and jumped down from the desk. “Then I don’t really care one way or the
other that you took him.”
A surprised laugh escaped my throat as Sam strolled up to me with a
casual smile on his face. Then he stopped before me, and his eyes turned
serious.
“A word of advice, though,” he began. “The others are not happy.”
“Yeah, I suspected as much.”
“I mean it. Malcolm is furious, so tread carefully.”
“The hell is he so pissed off for? We break agreements with each other
all the time.”
“Yes, but this time there’s a Binder involved.”
“Fair enough.”
“So yeah, that’s why I came here to warn you.” He flashed me a
mischievous grin. “Actually, no, that’s a lie. I came here because Grant paid
me a lot of money.”
I frowned at him. “Grant?”
“Yes. Malcolm is angry and Sienna is still a wildcard, but Grant wants
to negotiate. He paid me to come here and invite you to a meeting at his
house.”
Huffing out an amused breath, I rolled my eyes. “As if I would walk
into a trap like that.”
“He thought you might say that, but he really just wants to negotiate. I
will personally guarantee that both you and Audrey get there and back
home unharmed.”
My eyebrows rose. Grant was clearly more desperate than I had
assumed. Since Sam was the only dark mage that we all collectively
protected from any and all harm, he was also the only one whose word we
all trusted. If Sam guaranteed someone’s safety for a meeting, it meant that
if the person who hosted the meeting broke their word and hurt their guest
in any way, Sam would forever withdraw his services from that person. And
a dark mage who couldn’t pay Sam to heal them wouldn’t survive a month
out here, which was why no one ever went back on their word when Sam
had given his guarantee of safety.
“Fine,” I said, and released a long sigh. “When?”
“Tomorrow evening.”
“Alright, we’ll be there.”
“Fantastic!” Sam flashed me another smile and then gave me a cheerful
salute before strolling towards the door. “Then I can go home and play with
my new stacks of money.”
Laughing, I shook my head at the strange dark mage as he disappeared
out into the hallway. I knew that the others would be on edge when they
found out that Lance was in my possession, but I was glad that Sam had just
taken it in stride. If Malcolm and Sienna decided that they wanted to fight
me for possession of the Binder, I would need Sam’s services to survive it.
At least until I could break Lance and use him as a weapon.
I rolled my shoulders and blew out another sigh. Lance was tougher
than I had expected, and breaking him to my will would take more time
than I had hoped. So I would have to find another way to make sure that
Malcolm, Sienna, and Grant didn’t decide to push their luck before then.
Which meant that I needed this meeting with Grant to go well.
Tearing my gaze from the now empty doorway, I shifted it to Henry.
“Get someone to wash and iron that fancy gold and green dress that’s in
Audrey’s pack.”
“Yes, boss.”
After nodding to myself, I followed him out the door.
Now, I just had to make sure that Audrey did as she was told.
That might require a bit more persuading.
And threats.

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 Chapter 3

T he same lonely-looking hairbrush stared up at me with renewed hope

when I opened the drawer for the third time. I rammed it closed again
with a bang. Why did Callan bloody Blackwell have to be so damn
meticulous? I had gone through the entire room three times, and there was
not a single thing in it that could even remotely be classified as a weapon.
Well, unless I hit him with the hairbrush.
After stalking back out of the bathroom, I sat down on the floor next to
the bed and leaned back against the dark wooden bedframe. My chain
rattled as I moved. I wasn’t sure why, but sitting on the floor somehow
made me feel a bit better. A bit more grounded.
Tilting my head back, I glared up at the well-stocked bookshelf. There
was a little bit of everything on it. Some books about history and some
about science while others looked to be romance and adventure novels. As
if Callan wanted to make sure that I wasn’t bored while I was locked in this
room. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or pissed off about that.
It had been almost a full day since I had moved into my new
accommodations, and I was forced to admit that the humiliating moment of
groveling had actually been worth it. I had been able to sleep in a real bed
last night, and there was an actual bathroom just through the open doorway.
And in my current position, that counted for quite a lot.
However, I still hadn’t been able to find a way out of here. When I had
opened the door to my room, I had found a guard sitting right outside. And
the damn bed was bolted to the floor, so even if there hadn’t been a guard
there, I wouldn’t have been able to make it more than two steps into the
hallway before the chain around my ankle reached its limit. There were also
no weapons or any useful tools inside the room. But I wasn’t too dismayed.
I would figure this out. Somehow.
The door was shoved open.
I shot to my feet and whirled around while instinctively bringing my
palms together. Bitterness flooded my chest when I remembered that I
couldn’t summon any magic, but the feeling was quickly replaced by anger
when I saw who it was that had crossed the threshold.
“Get ready,” Callan ordered as he came to a halt in the middle of the
room.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I stalked forward until I was standing only
two strides away. “I thought I made it clear back in Eldar that I expect you
to knock when the door to my room is closed.”
Amusement drifted across his face as he looked back at me and raised
his eyebrows. “Interesting demand for someone who’s a prisoner.”
“Well, it’s common courtesy for most people. But seeing as you lack
basic manners, I figured I had to spell it out for you again.”
He advanced on me. Crossing my arms, I raised my chin and stood my
ground. When he was standing so close that I could almost feel the heat
radiating from his body, he reached up and grabbed my chin while a grin
spread across his mouth. His thumb skimmed my bottom lip.
“I see that talented tongue of yours has lost none of its sharpness.”
I flashed him a lethal smile. “I might be your prisoner, but I will still
make your life hell in any way I can.”
“I would expect nothing less.” Holding my gaze, he let out a dark
chuckle. “That’s what makes it fun. Especially when I finally break you.”
“Come try it, pretty boy.”
He released another dangerous laugh, but didn’t respond. With his hand
still on my chin, he glanced down to my lips, and for a second it looked like
he was going to do something… else. But then he abruptly stepped back
and let his hand drop.
Striding back to the door, he grabbed a green and golden dress from
someone’s arm outside and draped the garment over the set of drawers
along the wall. It took me a moment to realize that it was my dress. The one
I had worn to the ball when we kidnapped Lance.
 Callan jerked his chin towards the bathroom. “Get ready. Grant wants to
negotiate with us.”
I had just been about to ask about the dress, but the thought evaporated
when I registered what he had just said. Tearing my gaze from the dress, I
shifted my full attention to Callan. He just crossed his arms and stared back
at me expectantly.
“Us?” I asked when no other explanation was forthcoming.
“Yes. The others think that we double-crossed them together, and we’re
gonna keep it that way.”
“What? Why would…”
I trailed off as understanding flooded my mind. It was followed by
smug victory. Throwing my head back, I laughed up into the pale ceiling
before turning to Callan again and making a show of wiping away tears of
amusement.
“You need me,” I said.
Still standing there with his arms crossed, he just scowled back at me in
silence.
While a wicked grin blew across my lips, I sauntered up to him before
repeating, “You need me. Because only the threat of having to fight both of
us will keep Malcolm and the others from attacking.”
He lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug.
“If it was just you, Malcolm would team up with Sienna and Grant to
attack you three on one,” I pressed. “And if they ever did that, they would
definitely be able to take Lance from you. Ha! Maybe I should—”
His hand shot out and grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth closed.
Lightning flashed in his eyes as he leaned down to growl in my face.
“Before you go getting any ideas about telling them the truth, think about
what they would do if they knew that you were powerless. The great
Audrey Sable. Completely defenseless and there for the taking.”
For a few seconds, I just glared up at him in silence. I hated to admit it,
but the bastard did have a point. If Malcolm or Sienna were to find out that
I didn’t have my magic, I had no idea what they would do to me. At least
with Callan I knew what I was getting. Perhaps sticking with the devil you
know would indeed be the best course of action this time.
As if Callan could read my reasoning on my face, he released my jaw
and let out a smug huff. “That’s what I thought. So, play along. We need to
win this war and make Malcolm and the others submit before the heroes
figure out that Lance isn’t in the city anymore. Because if we’re still in the
middle of an internal power struggle when they come out here to take him
back, none of us are going to survive.”
I clicked my tongue. “Fine.”
“Good. Now, get in the shower and then put on the dress. We’re
expected at Grant’s mansion soon.”
“How?” I snapped, my irritation resurfacing again at his commanding
tone.
“What?”
“How am I supposed to take a shower?”
He frowned down at me. “What do you mean? I made sure that the
chain was long enough that you’d be able to comfortably reach everything
in your room.”
“I’m still wearing my riding pants.” I kicked out my leg, making the
chain clink against the manacle around my ankle. “How am I supposed to
get them off with this on?”
“I…” A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes as he glanced down at my
ankle, but he quickly smothered it under another heavy scowl. “I don’t see
how that’s my problem.”
“It is if you want me to not smell like your damn dungeon when we get
to Grant’s place.”
“Fine,” he bit out.
Shaking his head, he pulled out a key from inside his dark leather armor.
I marked its location carefully. And just like that, I had a target. It took all I
had to suppress the smirk that threatened to spill across my lips.
After dropping into a crouch, Callan unlocked the padded manacle
around my ankle. I rolled my foot a couple of times while he straightened
again.
“Knock on the door when you’re done,” he ordered. “Yuito will take
you to see me.”
I let a sly smile slide home on my mouth as I quirked an eyebrow at
him. “You’re not joining me in the shower?”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Do you want me to?”
Instead of answering, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over
my head. Callan’s eyes stayed locked on mine while I let the dark fabric
flutter to the floor and then reached for the buttons on my pants. Undoing
them slowly, I tried to get him to glance downwards. But he never did.
 Once I had stepped out of my pants, I cocked my head. Callan just
watched me, his face a blank mask. I reached up and undid the fastenings
on my brassiere. It fell to the floor as well, but that damn force mage still
refused to look where I wanted him to.
I needed him to get in the shower with me so that I could steal the key
from his clothes afterwards when he was distracted. And besides, it wasn’t
as if he had never seen me naked before. Only three days ago, we had been
fucking each other in a room at The First and Last Stop.
Also, I knew without a doubt that even if I got naked with him, he
would never force himself on me. Back in Eldar, he hadn’t given into his
desires until I had specifically told him to fuck me. Not to mention that look
of panic that had flashed in his eyes yesterday when he thought that I had
misinterpreted his joke about chaining me to the bed. So there really was no
harm in teasing him.
Drawing my hands over my hips, I started pushing my panties down my
legs. Callan clenched his jaw. A small spark of satisfaction swirled inside
me. Finally.
While slowly bending over, I pushed my underwear all the way down
before stepping out of them. Then I drew my hands up my legs on the way
back as I straightened. Callan’s gaze hadn’t moved so he had been staring at
the wall behind me while I was bent over. Once I had straightened, his eyes
were once more locked on mine.
I bit my lip.
His gaze flicked down to it.
Then, as if that had ruined all of his stoic commitment, his eyes quickly
shot down the rest of my body too. Dark desire flared up on his face, and
his cock hardened against the leather fabric of his pants.
There was a fire burning behind his eyes as he raked them over my
body, and the intensity of it made my heart stutter slightly.
Recovering, I painted another sly smile on my lips instead. “So, are you
joining me in the shower or what?”
His gaze snapped back up to mine. For a moment, he just blinked as if
trying to clear his vision. Then he abruptly whirled around and strode
towards the door.
“Knock on the door when you’re ready,” he said, his voice rough.
Then, without a single look back, he yanked the door open and
disappeared into the hallway before slamming it closed behind him again.
 Tilting my head back, I heaved an annoyed sigh.
That had been such a perfect opportunity. Why couldn’t he have just
taken the bait?
While shaking my head, I stalked into the bathroom and towards the
shower.
Well, there was always next time.

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 Chapter 4

G lass shattered against the marble wall. As the shards rained down and
clinked against the polished wooden floor, it took all my willpower
not to snatch up another glass and hurl that against my bedroom wall
too.
Hell fucking damn it all. I didn’t know how to behave around Audrey
anymore. Part of me wanted to kill her so that I could be rid of her
infuriating existence once and for all. The other part of me wanted to fuck
her until the only words that left her wicked tongue were intoxicating pleas
containing my name. And then there was another part of me. A small part.
And that part just wanted to watch the light that sometimes sparkled in her
eyes when she laughed.
And when she did things like what she had just done in her bedroom…
It had taken me until she started removing her panties to realize that she
didn’t actually want me to join her in the shower. It was just a damn
scheme. She had set the whole situation up so that she could find out where
the key was, and the shower invitation was only meant to give her an
opportunity to steal it from my clothes. And it had taken me far too long to
realize it. I hated that I found it so fucking attractive how intelligent and
sneaky she was. And when she bit her lip like that…
My restraint snapped, and I grabbed the second glass and hurled it at the
wall. Sharp shards exploded against the pale marble before tumbling down
to join the others on the floor.
 Audrey was like a drug. I wanted her so badly. I had to do something to
get her out of my head. I had to flush her out of my system.
A timid knock came from the door.
“What?” I snapped.
“Mr. Blackwell?” Tina said through the door. “I heard shattering glass.
Would you like me to come in and clean it up?”
“Fine. Yeah, come in.”
The door was pulled open slightly and a beautiful woman with dark
brown hair slipped inside. Tina was one of the people who worked for me
and took care of cleaning and washing and other domestic chores. She was
also my most common choice when I wanted some stress release. Not
everyone from my household staff wanted to fuck me, of course, but Tina
did. And she was gorgeous and good in bed, so our arrangement had
worked out well. At least, until now.
Her eyes drifted over my body as she closed the door behind her. My
cock was still straining against my pants from when I had watched Audrey
undress, but Tina of course didn’t know that. So when she saw it, she gave
me a sly smile and started towards me.
“Would you like me to relieve some of the tension?” she asked with a
glance down at my crotch. “It has been weeks since last time.”
I watched the way she swayed her hips when she walked closer. Maybe
this was how I could flush Audrey out of my system? Maybe I could fuck
Tina until all my memories of Audrey’s perfect body were gone from my
mind?
But for some reason, I could no longer stand the thought of putting my
hands on Tina’s naked body.
So in the end, I only jerked my chin towards the wall. “Just clean up the
glass.”
Tina’s face fell. She staggered to a halt on the floor before recovering
enough to give me a respectful nod. “Yes, Mr. Blackwell.”
While she changed direction and moved towards the glass shards on the
floor, I strode over to the couch under the window and dropped down on the
dark leather cushions. Seated in the middle of it, I spread my arms and
draped them over the backrest before tipping my head back and heaving a
deep sigh.
I had to get my head back on straight before we went to Grant’s
mansion. The guy could literally mess with people’s emotions, which meant
that showing up with a mind full of tangled feelings was incredibly
dangerous. Sam might have given his guarantee of safety, and Grant might
be the one dark mage who was least prone to violent attacks, but I was still
not taking any chances. Not until I had broken Lance and could wield him
as a weapon against them.
Another knock sounded from the door. This one was much firmer.
“Boss,” Yuito said. “She’s ready.”
“Bring her in,” I called back.
A moment later, the door was opened to reveal both Yuito and Audrey. I
ran my eyes over the poison mage.
Her hair was still damp from the shower, but she was wearing that gold
and green dress that I had brought her. And a new sense of determination
sparkled in her piercing green eyes.
“I thought you said we were in a hurry,” she remarked.
“I said we were leaving soon. I never specified a time.”
“Well, then maybe you should have…” She trailed off as her gaze
drifted towards the wall.
Glass clinked faintly from where Tina was still sweeping up the
shattered shards.
Recognition blew across Audrey’s face.
My brows rose slightly. So, she remembered Tina’s face from when she
had walked in on us fucking in the spare room? That was interesting.
“Tina,” I said, making a split-second decision. “I changed my mind.”
Tina’s eyes lit up as she straightened and turned to face me. Still seated
on the couch with my arms draped over the backrest, I snapped my fingers
and then pointed towards the floor between my legs. After setting down the
dustpan full of glass shards, Tina sauntered over to me with a sly smile on
her lips.
If Audrey had been mine, if we had been a couple, I would never even
have considered doing something like this. Ever. But Audrey and I weren’t
a couple. And we never would be.
From across the room, the poisoner narrowed her eyes slightly as she
watched me.
When he realized what was about to happen, Yuito respectfully averted
his gaze and focused all his attention on Audrey instead.
Clothes rustled faintly as Tina dropped to her knees between my spread
legs and ran her hands over my thighs. Reaching up, she undid the buttons
on my pants before pushing the fabric down and wrapping her fingers
around my cock. She leaned forward, taking me deep into her mouth. I held
Audrey’s gaze.
Amusement blew across her face, and she arched a dark eyebrow at me.
“Seriously?”
“What?” I smirked back at her. “Jealous?”
“Jealous?” she scoffed. “You wish.”
Yes, I did. Seeing her in that green and golden dress again had brought
back memories of the last time she had worn it. At the ball. When we had
danced together before she knocked out Lance Carmichael and threw him
out the window of the parliament building. It stirred up emotions that I
wanted to forget. Emotions that I needed to forget.
Tina continued working her lips, but I kept my eyes locked on Audrey’s.
It wasn’t exactly the first time Tina had given me a blowjob, but something
felt different this time. It felt mechanical. Detached. And no pleasure built
inside me.
A smug laugh dripped from Audrey’s lips as she shot a pointed look at
my crotch. “Having trouble performing with an audience?”
Irritation crackled through me. The problem wasn’t the audience. The
problem was that I had the wrong mouth wrapped around my cock.
Taking my arm from the backrest, I placed a hand on Tina’s shoulder
and pushed her back. She slid my cock out of her mouth and sat back on her
heels before looking up at me with uncertain eyes.
“Leave,” I commanded.
“I…” She flicked her gaze between my crotch and my face. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t her fault, but I didn’t feel like sharing that with anyone so I
just jerked my chin towards the door. “Get out.”
While she scrambled to her feet, I pulled my pants back up again. Glass
clinked as Tina grabbed the full dustpan and disappeared out the door
without another word. Audrey shifted aside to let her pass, but I noticed the
sharpness in her eyes as she tracked Tina’s movements.
Leather groaned as I pushed to my feet as well. “Yuito, find Audrey
something that will cover up those black rings around her arm. Then take
her to the dining room to wait for me.”
He dipped his chin and reached out to grab Audrey’s arm. “Yes, boss.”
Audrey tried to yank her arm out of Yuito’s grip, but he was much too
strong for that. So instead, she just cut him a scathing glare before turning
those blazing eyes on me. I met her gaze briefly before striding towards the
spacious bathroom that was connected to my bedroom.
“And where are you going?” she demanded.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“I thought you said we were in a hurry.”
“Again, I never said that.”
“Then why couldn’t you have told me that and let me enjoy my
shower?”
“Just do as you’re fucking told,” I tossed over my shoulder while
crossing the threshold into the bathroom.
Before she could reply, I threw the door shut behind me.
Damn it all to hell. Every time I saw her, those infuriating feelings
inside me just got even more tangled up. And we were going to Grant’s
mansion in half an hour. I had to make sure that he wasn’t going to do
something stupid like try to steal Lance from me, and to do that, I needed a
clear head.
Yanking off my shirt, I stalked towards the shower.
I really needed to flush the drug that was Audrey Sable out of my
system.

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 Chapter 5

T he carriage jostled as it hit an uneven spot in the grasslands. I braced

a hand on the smooth wooden wall to steady myself. Moonlight fell in
through the window and glinted against the metal-covered bracers
that I had put on in order to hide the fact that I had five tattoo-like rings
around my right forearm. At least the bracers were from my own pack. And
wearing them did make me feel a bit more like myself.
I glanced up towards where Callan was sitting opposite me, and another
bout of annoyance rippled through my chest. When he had brought me into
his bedroom, I had been given another golden opportunity to steal the key
from him. But I had messed it up. I should have told him that I was jealous.
That way, I could have gotten close enough to slip the key from his clothes.
But seeing that dark-haired woman, Tina, in his bedroom had irritated
me for some reason, and I had temporarily lost sight of my mission. At least
I had learned that Callan couldn’t perform while he had an audience. I
wasn’t exactly sure how to use that particular piece of information yet, but
at this point, all intel was good intel.
Blowing out a measured breath, I settled back against the cushioned seat
again with renewed determination. I wouldn’t mess up next time.
The carriage abruptly dipped to the side again as we hit another bump in
the grass.
I slid my gaze back to Callan. “Riding there would have been a lot less
bumpy.”
“Right.” He snorted. “As if I’d trust you on a horse.”
 Pressing a hand to my chest, I gave him a look of mock affront. “You
wound me.”
He huffed out another short breath of amusement.
“We could always have shared the horse,” I said.
“I think two times were two too many.”
“Really? I seem to remember that you quite enjoyed my body moving
against yours in that position.”
“What I remember is you handcuffed and powerless before me as I took
you to my mansion as a prisoner.” He cocked his head, making a stream of
silvery moonlight glint in his eyes. “And I have to admit… that was
something I quite enjoyed.”
“I just remember your cock pushing into my ass because I happened to
roll my hips a little.”
“Watch that mouth.”
“Or what?”
He pushed out of his seat, though he had to keep his back hunched so
that he wouldn’t hit his head on the carriage ceiling. I arched my eyebrows
at him as he took a step forward, closing the small space between us.
Bracing a knee on the cushioned bench next to my hip, he leaned down over
me and placed his hand against my cheek.
His thumb brushed over my mouth, and something dark glinted in his
eyes as he locked them on me. “Or I might decide to gag you.”
“Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I would. So keep that tongue of yours in check and remember
who’s in charge.” His fingers drifted down to my jaw. “That goes for this
meeting with Grant too. Don’t speak out of turn, don’t do anything to make
him think that we aren’t on the same page, and leave the talking to me.”
“That’s quite a lot of demands.”
“Which you have no choice but to obey.”
Rolling my eyes, I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “Fine.”
His grip tightened on my jaw. Eyes that pulsed with command stared me
down as he forced my head back against the wall behind me, keeping me
trapped in that position with my throat exposed. “Say it.”
I held his gaze, silently swearing my revenge, before blowing out a
resigned sigh. “I’ll do as you say.”
A satisfied smirk slid across his lips. “Good girl.”
 Damn, I hated what those two words did to my body every time he said
them. While Callan released me and sat back down on the bench across
from me again, I tried to smother the flicker of dark pleasure that had
coursed through my body. Turning my head, I glared out the window
instead.
Light shone from up ahead. From Grant’s mansion, it always did. As the
carriage drew closer to it, I studied the white stone building that was
sprawled across the grass. Most dark mages built their home out of marble,
because it made it much more difficult for people to burn it down. But aside
from that common trait, Grant’s mansion didn’t look anything like the other
dark mages’ houses.
Trees and bushes spread out around the pale mansion in no discernable
pattern, and colorful flowers and different kinds of fruits hung from their
branches. Everyone else wanted mostly flat grasslands around their home so
that they could see attackers coming clearly, but Grant had apparently opted
for an entirely different method of protection.
A pair of guards stopped our carriage as we reached the edge of the
vegetation. When they saw who we were, they waved us forward without
comment.
Bright oil lamps set onto metal poles lit up the grass as we started
forwards again. I studied the mass of fruits and flowers in all manners of
shapes and colors while the carriage rolled along the path between the trees
and bushes.
Harvey Grant was by far the strangest dark mage I had ever met. He
wasn’t combative like the rest of us, and he never got involved in fights if
he could avoid it. Since he didn’t have magic that was suited for battle, he
should have been killed by other dark mages long ago. Or captured by the
heroes. But he hadn’t.
Every single person who had ever gone to this mansion to attack Grant
had never been seen or heard from again. And I had no idea why. For all I
knew, all those people were still wandering around these grounds, lost in
their own heads. Harvey Grant might not be a battle mage, but he was still
incredibly dangerous.
Callan pushed the door open as the carriage came to a halt outside
Grant’s gilded front door. Turning back around, he held out his hand to help
me down. I blinked at it in surprise. As did Callan. Instead of waiting for
me to take his hand, he suddenly leaned through the door and grabbed my
wrist. I stumbled slightly as he pulled me out and onto the grass.
“What a gentleman,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, as I
yanked my wrist out of his grip and smoothened down my dress.
“If it’s a gentleman you want, maybe you should’ve stayed with Lance
Carmichael.” Jerking his chin, he started towards the front door. “Let’s go.”
If I’d had access to my magic, I would have thrown a cloud of poison at
him. But I didn’t, so I just ground my teeth and stalked after him.
The two guards outside the front door pulled it open for us while the
one on the left said, “He’s waiting for you in the night glen.”
Callan gave them a nod in acknowledgement while I suppressed the
urge to roll my eyes. Grant and his ridiculous names. The night glen. The
sunset glen. The dawn glen. He appeared to have a section of his gardens
for every time of day.
Only glinting chandeliers watched us as we crossed the long hallway
that would take us through the house and out to Grant’s gardens. As I swept
my gaze over the shining marble walls, I couldn’t help but wonder what the
rest of his house looked like. And how to get there.
Every time I had been here, I had only ever met Grant out in the
gardens. And to get there, I always had to take this same route. The front
door led to this corridor, which in turn led straight to another door that took
us into the gardens on the other side. But the mansion spread out on both
my left and right, as well as two stories upwards, so there had to be rooms
in here. However, no doors or staircases were visible. Only the pale
candlelit hallway.
Music and the sounds of people talking came from the open glass door
up ahead. I followed Callan as he stepped across the threshold and onto the
grass outside.
Even though I had seen it before, the sight of Grant’s gardens always
took my breath away. Bushes and trees with thick leaves dotted the lawn.
Just like the ones at the front of his mansion, they were full of colorful
flowers and strange fruits. All across the space stood swirling metal poles
with glass domes on top. Candles burned brightly inside, and since the
domes were made of different-colored glass, they painted the whole area in
a multitude of hues. It was like walking through a rainbow.
Men and women in glittering outfits stood, sat, and lay on the grass and
on the gilded furniture that had been positioned across it. Some wore
sparkling wings made of sheer fabric while others bore golden masks that
swirled across their features. And all of them had blissful and happy
expressions on their faces.
“Don’t eat or drink anything,” Callan said in a quiet voice.
“I know,” I answered. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve dealt with Grant before.”
Grant’s mansion was always like this. Or at least, it had been every time
I had been here. What it looked like behind closed doors when he was alone
was still unclear. But whenever he invited someone for a meeting, his
gardens were always full of smiling people and some kind of whimsical
party. Since Grant’s magic gave him the power to manipulate people’s
emotions, I never knew how much of this happy atmosphere was real. Or
voluntary, for that matter. And while he might not be bold enough to
actually touch his palms together and send his magic straight at the ones he
had invited here for a meeting, there was always a significant risk that the
food and drink he tried to offer had already been infused with it.
The cheerful crowd continued laughing and dancing and chatting
around us while Callan and I made our way through the bushes and towards
the section that Grant called the night glen.
“Grant is an emotion mage,” I whispered as we crossed a path of grass
that was lit up by pink and yellow domes of light.
“I know that,” Callan answered in a clipped tone. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that he, more than anyone, should be able to read the
emotions on someone’s face. He will see straight away that we still hate
each other and then he’ll never believe that we’re in this together.”
Callan forced out a long breath. “Then you’d better dust off those skills
you have because it’s time to fake it. Until we leave his presence, we’re
partners. And you’d better sell it good because your life, more than mine,
depends on it.”
“Worry about yourself. I’m a much more accomplished liar than you.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Before I could reply, we rounded the final bush and reached the night
glen.
In this section of the gardens, only white domes dotted the grass. They
also had small shapes carved into them, which made the candles inside fill
the whole area with what looked like silvery starlight. A woman in a
flowing white dress played haunting notes on a violin by the white marble
fountain on my left, while other people talked softly in groups that had
formed throughout the open space. At the back, along the row of thick
hedges that separated this section from the next, were a series of couches
and lounge chairs in silver and white. Pale drapes made of a sheer and
glittering fabric hung over the seating arrangements like a sparkling night
sky. And on one of the lounge chairs was a very average-looking man with
brown hair and blue eyes.
Harvey Grant sat up straighter and swung his legs over the side of the
long chair so that he faced us when he saw us approaching. Lifting a hand,
he motioned for us to join him.
My heart started up a nervous rhythm. I wasn’t usually worried when I
met other dark mages, but without my magic, I felt incredibly vulnerable.
Callan drew a hand down my back in an affectionate gesture while
speaking quietly through a smile.
“Fake it.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 6

G rant flashed us a smile from across the grass. I glanced down to make
sure that Audrey wasn’t scowling while we closed the final distance
to the pale couches. Thankfully, that damn poison mage looked the
way she always did. Gorgeous. Calculating. And arrogant.
“Callan. Audrey,” Grant said as we reached the seating arrangements.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet.”
“Of course,” Audrey said, beating me to it. “We heard from Sam that
you had some kind of offer for us.”
It took great effort not to glare at her. I had specifically told her to let
me do the talking, and yet here she was, acting as if she was the one in
charge. When we got home, I would have to teach her how to follow orders.
“Ah, yes,” Grant answered while I sat down on the couch next to
Audrey. “Have I understood the situation correctly if I say that the two of
you have taken possession of the Binder and that you have no intention of
bringing him to Essington’s mansion to share him with the rest of us?”
I placed a casual hand on Audrey’s thigh and squeezed it slightly. It was
meant partly as proof that we were partners in this, but mostly as a reminder
to Audrey to keep her pretty little mouth shut. She didn’t show anything on
her face, but she seemed to take the hint because she kept quiet and allowed
me to answer instead.
“That’s right,” I said.
“I see.” Grant swept a hand towards the glittering crystal glasses that
waited atop the silver tray on the low table between us. They were filled
with a sparkling liquid of a pale pink color. “Can I offer you something to
drink?”
“No, thanks.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Grant’s lips, but he just made a
noncommittal gesture as if it didn’t matter. Leaning forward, he braced his
elbows on his knees and shifted perceptive blue eyes between the two of us
instead.
“Can I inquire as to what your plan is?” he asked.
“What plan?” I answered, even though I knew full well what he was
referring to. But he had called this negotiation, so I wanted to force him to
spell it out.
“For the Binder. What do you intend to use him for?”
“We’re going to use him against the heroes. Make him bind their magic
when they try to come after us.”
“I see. Anything else?”
Rippling laughter sounded from a group somewhere behind me. It
drowned out the haunting music from the violin for a second. I let the
silence stretch a little longer before I finally replied in a nonchalant voice.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I just continued watching Grant. Next to me,
Audrey did the same.
To Grant’s credit, he didn’t squirm or do anything that would betray if
he was nervous or worried. When it became clear that we weren’t going to
answer, he went on.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said, leaning back in his seat and
flicking his hand in a casual gesture.
I arched an eyebrow at him. “That right?”
“Yes. You see, I have no interest in getting… involved in some kind of
war. So I propose that if you were to decide that you were going to use the
Binder for other things, you leave me out of it.”
“I see. And what’s in it for us?”
“One less enemy.”
“Hmm.”
“I don’t take part in battles unless I absolutely have to, and there is a
good reason for that. We have disagreed on matters from time to time, but I
have never waged any outright war against either one of you. And if I were
to offer some advice, I believe that it would be in your best interest to keep
it that way.”
A sharp smile curled my lips as I locked eyes with the emotion mage.
“Is that a threat?”
He waved a lazy hand in front of his face. “Merely an observation.”
I had to give it to him, he was conducting this negotiation rather well. If
he had just rolled over and offered us whatever we wanted, we would have
lost all respect for him. But instead, he was offering us a deal without
stepping down to a position of weakness. Our power and reputation were all
we had, and the way Grant handled this actually increased my respect for
him as a dark mage.
But I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I cocked my head and said, “I suggest
you word your observations carefully in the future.”
He just shrugged and crossed one leg over the other. “So, do we have an
agreement?”
What I really wanted from Harvey Grant, and all the other dark mages
too for that matter, was a blood oath that they would never challenge me.
But for now, I supposed that this would have to do.
I gave him a slow nod. “As long as you make no moves against us, we
will make no moves against you.”
“Excellent.” He flashed me a smile before shifting his attention to
Audrey. “You have been unusually quiet during this meeting. Do you have
any objections?”
“If I did, I would have said so by now,” Audrey answered before giving
him a sharp smile. “And I don’t waste my breath on stating the obvious.”
“True.” He chuckled and then motioned towards the rest of the night
glen. “Please stay for a while.”
“We have to get back,” I replied before Audrey could open her mouth.
Grant stood up and motioned for a gorgeous woman with long black
hair to approach. She took his hand when he held it out and then followed
him as he took a step towards the open grass where people had begun
dancing.
“Just one dance,” he said. “To celebrate our agreement.”
Refusing would be rude, and it would also make very little sense. After
all, Audrey and I were supposed to have formed a brand-new partnership.
Why wouldn’t we want to stay for one dance? Yes. That was the reason
why we needed to do this.
 “Alright,” I said as I stood up and held out my hand to Audrey.
Surprise flickered in her eyes, but Grant was thankfully looking in the
other direction. I shot her a pointed look. After giving me a small scowl, she
smoothened her features into a neutral expression and took my offered
hand. I pulled her up from the pale cushions.
The woman in the white dress started up a heart-wrenching tune on her
violin just as the four of us reached the now flattened grass where the others
were dancing. Grant spun the black-haired woman in his arms before
leading them into the dance, but his gaze flicked back to us. Too late did I
realize that this was one final test to see if our partnership truly was real.
Turning so that my back was to him, I smiled down at Audrey while
speaking through my teeth. “Sell it. He’s watching.”
She must have already figured that out too, because she just smiled as
well while drawing her free hand up my arm and towards my shoulder. I
slid mine over the side of her ribs before resting it against her back. Then I
moved us into the dance too.
Memories flooded my mind. Of that guy flirting with her at the ball and
me threatening to bury him in a shallow grave before I pulled Audrey with
me to the dancefloor. Of me saying that I had overreacted and her laughing
because I had admitted that I had been wrong about something. Of me
kissing her to shut her up and of us dancing for a long while before Lance
Carmichael showed up. She was even wearing the same dress. I had thought
that would be the first and only time I danced with Audrey Sable, but now
here I was again.
“Well,” Audrey began, a small smile tugging at her lips. “This brings
back memories.”
The fact that she had been thinking the same thing threw me off so
much that I only managed a, “Yeah.”
She looked a bit disappointed by that, and for some reason, I couldn’t
stand that look on her face so I pulled her closer to me until her cheek was
pressed against my chest. Resting my chin against the top of her head, I
breathed in the scent of her hair. It once more smelled faintly of jasmine.
She drew her arm down from my shoulder and wrapped it around my back
instead, holding me tightly. It might have been my imagination, but I swore
that I could almost feel her heart pounding against my body.
Other people were dancing around us, and I knew that Grant was
watching intently, but all I could think about was how it felt when Audrey’s
body was pressed against mine like that.
I knew that we needed to leave as soon as possible, because there was
no way that Audrey would be able to keep faking a partnership with me for
that much longer. And we couldn’t let Grant find that out. But despite that
urgency, I found myself not wanting the song to end.
Audrey’s long black hair had finally dried completely from her shower
earlier, and it swung across her back as we moved, brushing over my hand.
I tightened my grip on her back, suddenly needing to feel everything. One
last time. Audrey drew her hand down my spine in response, but didn’t try
to pull away. I tried to memorize the way her body moved with mine.
Then she stopped abruptly. I blinked in surprise and drew back enough
that I could glance down at her. She was staring up at me with an intense
look in her eyes. That’s when I realized that the other people around us had
stopped moving too.
Reality flooded back to me. The song had ended.
Clearing my throat, I released my grip on Audrey and took a step back
before drawing a hand through my hair. When I turned slightly, I found
Grant standing there. I discreetly searched his face for signs of suspicion.
There was no way Audrey had been able to suppress her true hatred for me
during that whole dance.
But Grant only gave me a satisfied smile and a nod. “Again, thank you
for agreeing to meet. I’m so glad we could reach an understanding.”
“Indeed,” Audrey thankfully replied, because I seemed to have
temporarily lost my ability to form coherent thoughts. “Now, we really must
be getting back.” She turned to me and arched a dark eyebrow. “Callan?”
“Yeah.” I gave Grant a nod in goodbye before motioning for Audrey to
lead the way. “See you around, Grant.”
“No, hopefully you won’t,” he replied with a smile.
Every step away from that makeshift dancefloor helped clear my head. I
rolled my shoulders back and straightened my spine as I followed Audrey
back out and towards our carriage.
At least I had assurances from Grant now that he wouldn’t try to attack
me and take Lance for himself. That was good.
But this had been dangerous.
I glanced down at Audrey. Her skirt swished around her legs as she
swayed her hips when she walked.
Far too dangerous.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 7

C allan watched with an impassive expression as the darkened

landscape rolled by outside the window. Apart from ordering me to
get into the carriage, he hadn’t said a word since we left Grant’s
mansion. I studied the way the moonlight shifted up and down his face as
the carriage jostled across the uneven ground.
I had to give it to him, despite always insisting that he was incapable of
faking it, he really was incredibly skilled at it. When we danced, he’d even
had me fooled there for a second into thinking that he actually liked me.
Though, when we had arrived and I had answered Grant’s greeting
before him, I had also seen that flicker in his eyes that promised a lesson in
humility when we got back to his mansion. I had to find the key to my
manacles before then. And right now, there was only one way to do that.
I waited until we reached a particularly bumpy hill. When the carriage
hit another sizable rock that made the whole structure jostle violently, I
pretended to be thrown from my seat. And since I was sitting on the padded
bench in front of Callan while we were going up the hill, that meant that my
little stunt sent me toppling forward and right onto him.
A huff escaped my throat as I slammed into his muscled chest. He
snapped his gaze from the window and leveled it at me while I tried to push
myself off his body. The carriage dipped again as one of the wheels rolled
over a small hole. I tipped sideways.
My fall was suddenly halted by a pair of strong hands on my sides.
Callan’s fingers pressed into the side of my ribs as he kept me from
crashing down to the floor of the carriage. With him holding me steady, I
could brace my hands on his shoulders and shift my knees into a better
position on the bench so that I could support myself on both sides. The
move also left me straddling Callan’s lap. Which was, of course, a complete
coincidence.
“Since you apparently didn’t listen last time, I will reiterate,” I began
and raised my eyebrows at him. “Taking the horses would have been much
more comfortable.”
He shot a pointed look down at my body before meeting my gaze again.
“You’re looking pretty comfortable to me.”
The carriage jostled again, making my body shift across Callan’s lap. A
jolt shot through me as it made my pussy brush against his cock.
Callan smirked. “Isn’t this night just full of nostalgia? First the dress
and the dance, and now we’re recreating that time in the closet.”
“Minus the dead body.”
“Oh I’m sure I could find some poor sod to run a force blade through, if
that’s what you want?”
A surprised laugh slipped from my lips. Not a calculated laugh. A real
one. I gave my head a short shake to get the odd feelings out of my head. I
needed to find the key.
“I actually think I want something else right now,” I said.
“Oh really? And what’s that?”
I crushed my lips against his.
He started slightly. For a moment, he didn’t return the kiss. Instead, he
just sat there with his back like a rod, as if he couldn’t quite decide what to
do.
Then his hands slid to my back and he drew my body harder against his
while he ravaged my lips with furious passion. His tongue tangled with
mine, claiming my mouth.
Locking my fingers behind his neck, I held him tightly while I rolled
my hips. A moan tore from his chest and his cock hardened underneath me.
I shifted against him again while drawing my hands down towards his
chest. I had to find the key.
When he had unlocked my manacles, he had pulled the key from a
small pocket on the front of his leather armor. So if I could just—
He grabbed my hips and pushed me harder down on his lap before
grinding his cock against my entrance. I gasped into his mouth while all
logical thoughts shot right out of my head. Hell, I had forgotten how good it
felt to have his lethal body pressed against mine like that.
Reason tapped its timid fingers against my skull. Key. I needed to find
the key.
Raking my fingers over his chest and down his stomach, I renewed my
efforts to reach the pocket where the key was. Callan nipped at my bottom
lip while rolling his hips underneath me again. Desire crackled through my
body. I ground my pussy against him in response while still trying to keep
enough presence of mind to get my hand to the pocket.
When my fingers at last brushed the top of it, I smiled against Callan’s
lips and wrapped my arm around his back. Drawing him tighter against me,
I slipped my fingers into the pocket.
Shock clanged through me.
Empty.
The pocket was empty.
I bit down on Callan’s lip in a flash of rage. A dark laugh rumbled from
his chest in response while he wrapped his hands around my thighs.
Holding on to me, he pushed up from the seat and straightened as much as
he could inside the carriage before leaning forward and setting me down on
the opposite bench. I glared up at him as he drew back slightly.
He had known that I was after the key, so he had moved it somewhere
else. That bastard.
His dark eyes glinted with satisfaction as he flashed me a smug smirk.
With his hands still on my thighs, he spread my legs wide and then sank
down to the floor between them. I narrowed my eyes, but didn’t try to stop
him. We had taken it this far, so we might as well see it through all the way.
And besides, he was good with those strong hands of his, and I could use
some stress release.
After drawing his hands down my legs, he grabbed the hem of my dress
and began slowly pushing it upwards. I held his intense gaze as he drew my
skirt over my knees and then across my thighs until it bunched around my
waist. Then he paused. And when I did nothing that would indicate that I
didn’t want to do this, he finally traced his fingers over my hips and
towards my panties.
A sigh tore from my chest as he curled his fingers around the fabric and
started pulling them down. Bracing myself against the padded bench, I
lifted my ass to allow him to get my panties down to my thighs. He took his
time, drawing them across my ass with torturous slowness. My heart
pounded in my chest.
When he had at last shifted them down to my thighs, I slumped back
against the bench and tilted my head back, resting it against the wooden
wall behind me.
Callan’s fingers brushed against my skin as he guided my knees closer
together and then drew my panties down my legs. Lightning crackled
through me at his touch.
Hell damn it all, I must have somehow accidentally eaten or drunk
something in Grant’s mansion after all, because wildfire roared inside my
soul when Callan traced his fingers over my skin. Heat pooled at my core,
and I desperately wanted Callan’s hands all over my body.
The fabric of my panties suddenly disappeared from my skin. Callan
grabbed my ankle, lifting my foot out of the garment before doing the same
with my other leg.
I sucked in a shuddering breath as he drew his rough hands up my bare
legs. Taking a firm grip on the back of my knees, he lifted my legs and then
yanked me forward a little. A small gasp ripped from my lips as Callan
positioned me so that I leaned back against the wall at an angle while he
draped my legs over his shoulders. With him kneeling in front of the bench,
and my legs spread wide like that, my pussy was completely exposed to
him.
He leaned forward.
Blood pounded in my ears.
Another gasp tore from my throat as Callan drew his tongue along my
pussy. Forcing out a slow breath, I squeezed my eyes shut as he traced the
tip of his tongue down it again, teasing me with infuriating precision. He let
out a wicked laugh. It made his hot breath dance over my sensitive skin,
drawing a shudder from me.
He swirled his tongue around my clit.
Intense pleasure rolled through my body, and I dug my heels into his
back, forcing his mouth harder against me. His tongue circled my clit again
before he took it into his mouth. While rolling it between his lips, he traced
his hand over the back of my thigh and towards my entrance. The sudden
touch sent another lightning bolt across my skin.
My chest heaved as he trailed his fingers through my wetness. With my
eyes still closed, I tried to focus on drawing breath while Callan swirled his
tongue around my throbbing clit again.
He pushed two fingers inside me.
A jolt shot through my body as he curled them slightly on the way out
before driving them into me again. His teeth skimmed my clit. It drew a
small and needy noise from my chest.
Callan pushed his fingers into me again before drawing out once more.
Another groan built in my chest as he worked his tongue and lips as well,
but it was cut off by a gasp.
Force magic vibrated around Callan’s fingers as he thrust them into me
again.
It made lights flicker behind my eyes, and I had to grip the edge of the
bench hard to keep myself from moaning his name. Pleasure built inside me
as he pumped those vibrating fingers while also continuing to stimulate my
clit with his lips and tongue.
The carriage jostled, making him shove deeper inside me.
My heart almost burst out of my ribcage.
Callan smiled against my pussy while he drew his tongue around my
clit. Then the vibrating force magic around his fingers stretched farther. My
eyes flew open and I sucked in a sharp breath as his magic formed a
vibrating rod that filled me completely.
I didn’t even think it was a conscious choice, but my hand shot up and
gripped Callan’s hair hard.
He kept his fingers unmoving inside me, but began pulling the force
magic back before pushing it forward again.
“Callan,” I gasped, my fingers tightening their grip on his dark hair.
The vibrating force drew back before shoving deeper inside me again.
My brain was starting to malfunction. Unintelligible moans spilled from
my lips as I tried to cling to my sanity. I was vaguely aware of Callan’s lips
disappearing from my clit, and when I managed to blink my eyes into focus,
I found him studying every inch of my face with a gaze that burned through
my soul.
With his fingers still filling my entrance, he increased the vibrations
before pushing the shaft of force magic deeper inside me again.
At some point, my hand must have released his hair because both of
them hit the bench beside me as I arched my back and sucked in a labored
breath. My legs trembled against his back.
A moan of pure desperation escaped my lips.
 “Please,” I begged pitifully between gulps of air that never seemed
enough. “P-please. Please.”
The vibrations increased to a point where they seemed to be shaking my
soul loose and turning my mind into a useless puddle. Pleasure built like a
storm inside me.
Callan’s eyes burned like dark flames as he held my gaze. But my own
eyes had started sliding out of focus while my whole body was coming
apart at the seams.
He shoved his magic harder into me, hitting just the right spot.
Pleasure exploded inside me, shattering through my whole body and
making my trembling walls clamp down around his fingers. He kept
pushing his vibrating shaft in and out until I thought my mind was going to
snap.
“Callan.” His name rolled from my tongue in a dark moan while I came
all over his hand.
But he only continued studying my face, as if memorizing every
expression on my features and every emotion flashing in my eyes.
As my body slumped back against the seat, utterly spent, my numb
mind tried to remember what I had been about to do before Callan had
shattered my consciousness.
I had been about to do something.
I was supposed to be doing something.
What was it again?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter 8

A fter marching Audrey into her room, I closed the door behind us. As
she turned around to face me, she raised her chin in a cocky gesture
and arched her eyebrows expectantly. I crossed my arms. Standing
before the door, I just watched her in silence for a while.
I knew that she had only kissed me in that carriage because she needed
an excuse to look for the key. Since I had already given it to Henry before
we left the mansion, there was nothing for her to find. So after she had
discovered that, I could have just ended it. Should have ended it. But
instead, I had taken it even further. Like an addict, I had wanted to watch
that intoxicating expression on Audrey’s face when I made her come, and
hear her moan my name, just one more time.
“So, we got Grant to back off,” Audrey said into the crackling silence.
“Yeah, I did.”
She huffed in annoyance, but didn’t reply.
“I seem to remember telling you that I would do the talking.”
“You did.”
“And still you disobeyed.”
A sharp smile slid across her lips while she lifted one shoulder in a
nonchalant shrug. “Disobeyed? As if I was ever going to follow your
orders.”
“Yes, disobeyed. And I think you need to be reminded who’s in charge.”
In all honesty, I think I needed to remind myself that I was still the one
in control.
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Aquella novedad de calles, aquel tráfico, aquellas cuarteronas de
renombre provocativo y nervioso, todo volvia en tropel á mi mente,
sacudia el polvo de mis años y dejaba aletear mi corazon para
entonar, dulce como un jilguero, los cantos siempre hermosos de la
primavera de la vida.
Tomé apuntaciones sobre la vida y milagros de mi querido poeta
Agustin Quintero: vivia en la calle de Dumain y se vivia en la
redaccion del Picayune, periódico importantísimo del que es uno de
los redactores principales.
En cuanto á Xarifa, no habia sino mandar mi carta al correo; así lo
hice, dirigiéndole la siguiente misiva. Ese To del principio vale por un
poema:

TO XARIFA.
 Ni el golfo con sus encantos
Y sus tormentas, señora,
Ni ver del comercio el carro,
Triunfal y lleno de pompa
En estas extrañas playas
En que da luz nuestra historia;
Ni las galas de la industria,
Ni los primores de Europa,
Mi ambicion estimularon
Como verte á todas horas,
Y soñar cual dizque sueñan
Los que tan solo atesoran
De las riquezas del alma
Las inestimables joyas;
Y con esto deliraba
Al venir de California,
Cruzando mares de nieve
Y trepando por las rocas....
Pero es el caso que llego,
Que la lluvia me aprisiona,
Y me trasladan á un cuarto,
En una region ignota,
Tan vecino de las nubes
Y en posicion tan exótica,
Que estoy esperando un globo,
Una cuerda, una maroma,
Para volver á la tierra
A tratar con las personas.
Por aquí nada sabemos
De las mundanales cosas,
Ni si los republicanos
Triunfaron ó los demócratas;
De si Bismark está bueno
O si murió de la gota;
De si vive el Santo Padre
í
 O Víctor Manuel le llora....
Por aquí cantan pericos
Y andan negras como monas;
Hay chimeneas á puños,
Hollin, humo y tablas rotas,
Que explican de los incendios
Las furias devoradoras;
Pero nada de Post-Ofice,
Ni de correos-palomas,
Ni de tubos como en Lóndres,
Ni de trompetas de goma....
Por esta causa, al acaso,
Te dirijo mis memorias;
Porque estoy en otro mundo,
Porque estoy como en la gloria.
Recibe, pues, mis saludos
Tierna, afable, cariñosa,
Como en México lo hiciste,
Cuando á tu vista, señora,
Mi patria tendió sus lagos,
Brotaron sus campos rosas,
Para contemplar tu rostro
Y ofrecerte sus coronas.
Fidel.

Lo primero que me preocupa cuando se trata de una visita ó cosa

semejante, es la revista de mi equipo y, cosa rara, mi cuerpo tiene
una semejanza perfecta con los cuerpos del ejército de mi país;
gasta sumas fabulosas en su equipo y arreos, y apénas se exige de
él cualquier servicio formal, carece de todo y descubre poridades no
para escuchadas. A la más leve medicina, descubre, como las viejas,
una complicacion de enfermedades que espanta al médico....
Pues como iba yo diciendo, pasaba revista á mi equipo.
Mi camisa estaba como sentada en una silla, con la corbata lista y
los brazos cruzados con extraña circunspeccion.
Mis pantalones sobre una silla y con sus piernas medio encogidas,
los botines como si fueran á dar su paseo por su cuenta y riesgo, la
levita ceremoniosa y echada hácia adelante en el perchero, y el
desgoznado sombrero ladeado, picaresco, sobre la bombilla del
quinqué.... cuando prévio un recio toque se entró en mi cuarto M.
Trick, y no hubo remedio, fuimos á dar un paseo.
En el conjunto de la ciudad se observa que convalece de un mal que
ha puesto en peligro su vida, y que la reaparicion de la existencia se
verifica entre los estragos de la pasada lucha con la muerte.
Se me figuraba ver un campo con troncos de árbol desnudos de sus
hojas, y otros rajados por el rayo, que sin descuajarse la nieve del
riguroso invierno, deja ver naciente la verde sementera y como en
promesa la abundante cosecha.
Así, en las calles en que el esfuerzo verifica agradables
resurecciones, se ve el edificio desmantelado con las puertas y
ventanas sin hojas ni cubiertas, con las vigas en que deberian
descansar los suelos, como un costillar, y con las paredes con los
rastros negros, fantásticos, que ha dejado la llama que expiró sobre
aquellos muros, retorciéndose sin alimento.
Se alza una morada voluptuosa como una bailarina de Canova, junto
á una ruina, y en el campo contiguo en que crece la yerba, se
perciben restos de una opulenta mansion, y pastan los animales con
la tranquilidad que en un desierto.
A dos pasos corre una calle magnífica entre los árboles, con todo el
bullicio y la alegría de un tráfico fecundo.
Al recorrer la calle del Canal por la frontera del barrio frances, yo
sospechaba toda la postracion y decadencia de ese barrio.
Con excepcion de la avenida de la Levé, es decir, la orilla del rio y las
tiendas y mercados de ese rumbo, las bocacalles parecian conducir á
encrucijadas y vericuetos maltratados.
Como algunos elegantes de aparato, que hacen alarde de
compostura y hasta de riqueza, cuando están en contacto con gente
fina, y al alejarse del centro se calan su sombrero ancho, se cantean
su jorongo y se confunden con la pelusa, como ellos suelen llamar al
populacho.
La avenida de la Levé da idea del poderoso tráfico de esa ciudad
riquísima.
Las calles son séries de opulentos almacenes en las cercanías del
canal; pero á medida que avanzan, es el barrilaje, y son los fardos,
las churlas y botijas, las botas de grasas y las salazones y pescados,
oscuridad en que naufraga un pico de gas, luz de dia que muere
pálida, entre cajones, pipotes y carnazas, y hombres de cachuchas
de pico sesgado, grandes pipas, camisas bambochas, pantalones
abajo de los cuadriles y chancletas como hechas de la piel de un
sapo despatarrado.
Wagones, ómnibus, carros, plataformas, todo lo rodante, todo lo
pujante, todo lo que va y viene, y se vierte, se escurre, se carga ó se
rueda, pasa por aquel esófago que absorbe en el rio y sus cercanías,
y se desahoga en la calle del Canal.
La avenida de que hablamos, tiene á la derecha casas; á la
izquierda, los almacenes descritos, con las puertas bajo un corrido
tejado y su banqueta de asfalto eternamente obstruida por tercios,
cargadores, vendedores y mujeres destartaladas y elásticas, que ya
se embuten, ya se escurren y ya flotan con canastos, pollos y
verduras entre el gentío.
La calle, angosta en su principio, con tiendas de modas, almacenes
de ropa, sombrererías, zapaterías, etc., se abre y deja ver el rio, con
esa ciudad flotante en donde las aguas son calles, los navíos
palacios movedizos, los botes como wagones, y que entre un bosque
de mástiles y banderas de todas las naciones del globo, hierve, se
afana y trabaja, como compendiándose, la humanidad entera, como
para dar una muestra de la confraternidad de los mundos antiguo y
moderno.
En esa desviacion de la calle, y siguiendo la curva del rio magnífico,
que tiene cerca de una legua de anchura en algunos puntos, se
extiende un envigado fuerte y compacto de más de cincuenta varas
de extension: en varias partes, aquella calzada de madera está
amplia y despejada por la parte que da á tierra, y penetran á ella
transeuntes, carros y carruajes; del lado del rio toca á las
embarcaciones, que á veces llegan á mil ó mil quinientas, y que
dejan sospechar el aturdidor, el estupendo movimiento de aquel
puerto.
Nueva-Orleans es el emporio del comercio de algodon en el mundo,
y además del algodon, exporta azúcar, tabaco, harina, carne de
cerdo y algunas insignificantes manufacturas, todo por valor de
93.715,710 pesos.
Las importaciones de café, azúcar, sal, fierro, tejidos y licores,
llegaron en 1874, que fueron los datos más recientes que pude
procurarme del momento, á 14.533,864 pesos.
Es decir, más de ciento ocho millones de pesos dan aliento y
aseguran la vida y la opulencia de Orleans.
En ese lado del rio, en contacto con el buque, se afianzan las
ramblas para la carga y descarga, se inspecciona, se pesa, se mide,
se contrata y tienen sus divisiones los muelles, que perciben los
comerciantes con tino certero.
Todos los trages, todos los idiomas, todos los gestos, todos los
aciertos y los disparates de la conformacion humana, se encuentran
en aquellos lugares; venciendo á la máquina del bote, y á la
locomotora, y á la tempestad, la algazara del negro que parece que
se va á desgajar en canal, al estallido de sus desvergüenzas y de sus
carcajadas.
Siguiendo la frontera de la calle del Canal, nos espía la calle
Chartres, la de Royal con mayor compostura, con sus frecuentes bar-
rooms, los morillos de las barberías pintados con listas blancas,
azules y encarnadas, los escaparates de las floristas y los grandes
cristales en que librerías, dulcerías, y restaurants, exponen, ya los
primores literarios, ya las golosinas más provocativas, ya jamones
suculentos, con su azúcar quemada como maque, ya pavos
ceremoniosos, como cualquier enviado diplomático, con su cogollo
de lechuga en el pico, y su polvo de yema de huevo tendido á su
espalda, como un manto de oro.
En lontananza, bajo sombríos tejados, se ven charcos y hundiciones,
suciedad y destruccion, en medio de casas elegantes, de templos
magníficos y bellísimos jardines. Lo que para mí era insoportable,
era ese caño al descubierto que corre pegado á las banquetas, de
uno y otro lado de las calles. En el barrio frances, esas fajas
inmundas son pestilentes y asquerosas sobre toda ponderacion.
Yendo por toda la calle de la Levé, en dificilísimo tránsito, me llevó
mi amigo al centro de un extenso cuadrado limitado por altas rejas
de fierro, encerrando un bonito jardin con sus calles bien
compartidas y delineadas, de menuda arena, y sus árboles formando
afectada simetría. Con los ramajes de esos árboles se han formado
como toneles, como canastos y otras figuras, recortándolos con tan
exquisito cuidado, que más parecen muebles que árboles los que
constituyen el ornato de la plaza.
Yo no sé por qué me parece una degradacion de la naturaleza
semejante afectacion; se me figuran esos árboles los sopranos de la
vegetacion; creo que se les condena á un afeite; como cuando se
atusa á un caballo las crines; cuando se rapa medio cuerpo de un
perrillo; cuando se ciega á un pato para hacer más sabrosa la carne.
Detesto la moda, abomino ese afeminamiento del arbolado, me
repugna, me endiabla.
Bajo tales auspicios ví esa plaza, que está como embutida en el
cuadrado que forman mercado y almacenes, la Levé y la antigua
Catedral: para que fuese ménos grata mi impresion, la estatua de
Jackson, que domina la plaza, dista mucho de merecer los
parabienes del arte.
Conoció mi querido Trik mi disgusto y me colocó frente á la Catedral,
cuyo tipo, netamente español, cuya semejanza con muchas de
nuestras iglesias de segundo órden, despertaba mis recuerdos
alentando mi curiosidad.
La arquitectura de la Catedral es irregular; se semeja á la fachada de
la Piedad ó Atzcapotzalco, pero más ancha y chaparra: tiene dos
torres como dos orejas de liebre; en medio un retablo ó campanario,
como varias de nuestras iglesias de pueblo; á los lados de la
Catedral hay dos alas de edificios con cierto tipo conventual.
—Este edificio, me decia M. Trik, que tenia en las uñas la Guía de
Orleans y la magnífica historia de la Luisiana de Mr. Gayllaré, este
edificio es el tercero que se edifica en este lugar: el primero era de
madera y adobe, tosco y primitivo puede decirse; se concluyó en
1728, y era tan feo, que cuando el huracan de 1733 lo destruyó, la
gente se consolaba de muchas pérdidas con la desaparicion de aquel
Cuasimodo de la arquitectura.
Armada de punta en blanco, apareció en el mismo lugar la segunda
Catedral, más elegante, más coqueta, de madera y ladrillo, é hizo las
reverencias de su estreno por los años de 1734 ó de 1735.
Luego que los señores obispos vieron el buen continente de esa
Catedral, la ocuparon y cobró alto rango. Pero cate vd. que en 1788,
Viérnes Santo por más señas, estalla en las inmediaciones de la
Catedral el incendio, se levantan devoradoras olas de llama, la
poblacion se llena de terror, como novecientas casas se hunden en
aquel piélago de destruccion, y confunde sus restos la Catedral, y
vuela en cenizas como las opulentas casas y las risueñas residencias
víctimas del incendio.
El terreno en que estuvo la iglesia quedó abandonado; los cristianos
que habian orado en aquel templo, se descubrian frente al manchon
negro que formaba la tierra, con las cenizas de los altares y los
huesos calcinados de los sepulcros.
Por aquellos tiempos era regidor perpétuo de Orleans el Sr. D.
Andrés Almonaster, quien, escuchando las sugestiones de su corazon
piadoso, emprendió, costeando de su peculio, la Catedral existente
que se fundó en 1792 y se concluyó en 1794.
Las alas del edificio, que mucho tiempo ocuparon los Padres de San
Luis, como se ve de su arquitectura, las rejas de sus puertas y la
conformacion en general, sirven hoy para el despacho de los
tribunales.
La arquitectura irregular de la iglesia desaparece luego que se entra
al templo.
Se encuentra uno en un vestíbulo interior de altas y gruesas
columnas, y desde él se percibe en su conjunto el templo, que se
semeja un tanto á la Profesa de México, aunque le es inferior bajo
muchos aspectos.
Tiene el templo tres amplias naves: la central, del todo descubierta,
y en las laterales esos tapancos ó corredores con bancas y sillas
comunes á los templos de los Estados-Unidos, y que le dan aspecto
de teatro. Sobre la puerta de la entrada, en extenso cuadrado, en un
barandal volado sobre la iglesia, están el órgano, que es magnífico,
lugar para la orquesta y espacio competente para el coro y los
cantores.
Dos grandes altares llamaron desde luego mi atencion: el mayor,
dedicado á Nuestra Señora de Lourdes; el de San Francisco de Asis,
cuya imágen me pareció hermosa y de correcto dibujo.
Cerca del altar de San Francisco se levanta severo y majestuoso el
sepulcro del ilustre fundador de la Catedral, y se lee en una gran
lápida la siguiente inscripcion medio borrada:
Aquí reposa el cadáver del Sr. D. Andrés Almonaster de
Rojas, natural de Mayrena, en Andalucía, que falleció en
 Nueva-Orleans el dia 26 de Abril de 1798, á los setenta y
cuatro años de su edad. Fué caballero de la Orden de
Cárlos III, Coronel de Milicias, fundador de los Hospitales
de San Cárlos y San Lázaro, así como del Convento de
Ursulinas. Fundó la escuela de niñas Girlls Shool y de la
Presbiteriana, cuyos edificios se hicieron en esta ciudad á
sus expensas.—R. I. P.
Las pinturas que ví en el templo, aunque me las elogiaron de
sobresalientes, encareciéndome la de la Transfiguracion, la Sacra
Familia y San Luis, no las pude examinar.
A la salida del templo ví de nuevo el jardin.
No es posible describir la impresion de disgusto que se apodera de
mí con la vista, muy comun por cierto en los Estados-Unidos, de los
árboles recortados, que á fuerza de artificios se les cambia de
figuras, y ya son como macetones, ya como barriles, ya tienen aun
tendencias á remedar la figura humana!
¿Habrá vd. visto adefecio?
A mí me parece la tortura del árbol; me parece como á esos niños
de los saltimbanquis que quebrantan y descoyuntan para especular
con ellos: es tan repugnante, como la gorda presumida que hace del
corsé un cincho tiránico; se semeja á las que se sahuman para estar
pálidas. Cuando un estúpido pinta su sombrero de verde y á su
perro de azul ó colorado, simplemente viste de fantasía al perro y él
se pone en ridículo; el que á fuerza de adherencias de carton y de
pinturas diera á una mula el aspecto de una choza y á un caballo el
de una carretela, podia reclamar la atencion por la originalidad de su
capricho; pero desnaturalizar al árbol mutilándolo, no puede ser
bello, como no es bello que atusen á un caballo sus hermosas crines
para convertirlo en caballo de ajedrez. Y lleven mis lectores por
partida doble mis diatribas sobre los árboles.
M. Trik no estaba muy de acuerdo con mis observaciones, y me
citaba los muros de verde de algunas calles y jardines.
Para completar nuestro paseo, supliqué á mi complaciente amigo me
condujese al grande edificio de la calle del Canal, que contiene á la
vez, en sus bajos, la oficina de correos, y en los altos, el despacho
de la aduana.
Cuando en 1858 visité la obra que estaba para concluirse, en
compañía de M. La Serre y de M. Benjamin, eminente orador de los
Estados-Unidos, confieso que me sorprendió la magnificencia del
edificio.
Entónces parecian tres edificios: el que formaban de madera,
andamios y tránsitos, el de granitos y un último que era como una
incrustacion hermosísima de mármol con todas las galas de la
arquitectura y los primores del bajo relieve.
Recordaba, aunque muy confusamente, una máquina colocada en el
que deberia ser patio del edificio, como una asta robustísima de
fierro; la máquina tenia sus coyunturas, como un brazo y una mano:
cuando era conveniente, se inclinaba la mano desde una inmensa
altura, agarraba la piedra enorme ó el objeto, por pesado que fuese,
en que se colocaba, y lo subia á la azotea, girando y poniéndola á
discrecion del operario.
Recuerdo tambien que no pude contener la manifestacion de mi
asombro cuando ví funcionar un ferrocarril cuyos rieles estaban
enclavados en la anchura del muro exterior, y que conducia al
rededor de él los materiales de la obra. Los conductores corrian muy
frescos al borde de aquel precipicio espantoso.
Me parecia que recordaba, del otro lado del rio, fertilísimos campos,
alegres y vistosos jardines, y que me repugnó ver á las mujeres con
la azada en la mano, espectáculo que al grande Juarez le fué
insoportable.
Recuerdo que desde aquella inmensa altura seguí las sinuosidades
del rio y me parecia como una C mayúscula colocada así, ∪ con dos
cintas en sus extremos, como el ruedo de una gola sobre el pecho
de una dama, con los broches sueltos; pero estos recuerdos eran tan
confusos, tan mezclados á las fisonomías de Ocampo, de Juarez, de
Leon Guzman, Manuel Ruiz y otros, que me parecia que todo lo
estaba viendo en un sueño.
M. Trik me habia colocado á la entrada del edificio.
La parte que da al canal está obstruida por piedras y escombros;
cuando volví la cara, M. Trik estaba con su "Guía de Nueva-Orleans"
abierta, leyéndome:
"La aduana (Custom house).
"El año de 1845, la municipalidad de Nueva-Orleans ofreció
á los Estados-Unidos diversos sitios para establecer una
aduana digna del comercio floreciente de aquella ciudad.
"Los Estados-Unidos aceptaron la proposicion, y el
secretario del Tesoro eligió el lugar en que hoy está la
aduana como el más conveniente.
"En 22 de Noviembre de 1847, se adoptaron los planos de
A. J. Wood, y comenzó la obra en 23 de Octubre de 1848.
"Los trabajos continuaron con más ó ménos actividad,
segun lo permitian los recursos, suspendiéndose cuando
estalló la guerra.
"Concluida la guerra, se emprendieron de nuevo bajo la
direccion del coronel Morse.
"El edificio estaba materialmente lleno de escombros, y el
primer trabajo fué limpiar el local que sirve actualmente
como oficina de correos.
"En el edificio de que nos ocupamos está el Business Room.
"Es el despacho más elegante del mundo; tiene de
superficie 125 piés de largo por 95 de ancho, y su altura es
de 44 piés.
 "Catorce elegantes y esbeltas columnas están colocadas
con objeto de dar á la parte central destinada al público, un
espacio de 65 piés de largo por 45 de ancho: en la parte
que lo circunda están colocados empleados y dependientes.
"Las columnas son de órden corintio con bases áticas,
pulida la parte baja de los capiteles, que en cada una de
sus fases tiene distintas alegorías con bajos relieves,
representando unas á Juno, otras á Mercurio, entre plantas
de algodon y de tabaco.
"El pavimento es de mármol blanco y negro, con cenefas de
negro entre columna y columna. Tiene diez y seis
tragaluces para comunicar luz al piso inferior, y son
planchas que remedan mármol verde incrustado en el
mármol blanco, formando cada una el centro de una
estrella.
"Las estufas son de mármol, de figura hexágona, y se
calienta el despacho por vapor.
"El conjunto de este departamento es un triunfo
maravilloso del arte y del génio del hombre, que es
necesario ver para poder apreciar.
"El habilísimo superintendente, Mr. Jhon J. Hannan, merece
los más entusiastas elogios por haber dirigido y concluido la
oficina de correos y muy especialmente el departamento
que se acaba de bosquejar."
—En esta Guía del Viajero que ve vd. aquí, dije interrumpiendo á Mr.
Trik, hay otros detalles curiosos sobre la aduana. Es evidentemente
una exageracion, añadí, ponerla en segundo lugar del Capitolio de
Washington. Lo que sigue sí me parece exacto:
"El edificio de la aduana es de granito de Quincy, traido
aquí de Massachussets. Su frente principal es de ciento
once varas por la calle del Canal; por la calle que se llama
 de la Aduana, poco más de ochenta varas; el del nuevo
dique, de ciento tres varas, y el del antiguo, cerca de cien.
"La altura es de treinta varas."
El conjunto del edificio es imponente y severo, sirviendo con toda
holgura para sus objetos.
Como se ha dicho, la parte baja del edificio está destinada al correo:
por amplias y altas puertas se penetra á un corredor interior con
pavimento de mármol azul y blanco.
Limita el corredor un alto cancel con sus ventanillas de trecho en
trecho, para venta de sellos, franqueo de la correspondencia y
direccion por buzones separados, siendo el público mismo el
distribuidor de su correspondencia y teniendo al recogerse, por la
parte interior, una nueva y eficaz revision.
Las paredes del edificio ó cancel interior están formadas por cajitas
pequeñas de los apartados, con sus puertecitas que se abren hácia
afuera y de las que cada abonado ó alquilador tiene su llave, con la
que abre cuando le parece, sin necesidad de importunar á los
dependientes del despacho.
Aunque la correspondencia la distribuyen los carteros, porque nunca
el americano falta á la costumbre de poner el nombre de la calle y
número de la carta que dirige, hay extranjeros que faltan á la
costumbre y personas que anotan que quedan en la oficina las
cartas; para éstas y para las cartas rezagadas se ponen listas,
tomadas de los periódicos, que se fijan por determinado tiempo en
las paredes.
En un lugar adecuado están en carteles expuestos al público, los
dias de entrada y salida de vapores, así como de los buques que
arriban al puerto y todas las noticias conducentes á las
comunicaciones.
Al regresar á mi alojamiento con Mr. Trik, de mi primera estacion, me
fijé en los ferrocarriles urbanos que tienen su punto de partida y de
regreso al pié de la estatua de Clay. Son muchas las vías férreas, los
wagones están tirados por caballos y mulas, á las que les atusan las
colas, que se ven como chicotes de carrero.
Entre las líneas de trenes urbanos se distingue una conducida por
vapor; la máquina va dentro un wagon y camina muy
aceleradamente y con toda seguridad. El precio comun son cinco
centavos.
Circulan además numerosos ómnibus, que esperan á los pasajeros á
la llegada de los trenes: hay carruajes elegantes tirados por caballos,
que se alquilan á dos pesos por hora: varias líneas férreas unen la
ciudad con Algiers, Magdonal y Gritroi, y otros preciosos pueblecitos
situados del otro lado del rio.
Mr. Trik no quiso que nos despidiésemos sin visitar un elegante bar-
room en que se bebe deliciosa cerveza y se escucha uno de esos
órganos estupendos como el de Clif-House de San Francisco.
Al separarnos me encareció Mr. Trik las ventajas de la vida en una
casa de huéspedes, ó con alguna de las muchas familias que viven
fuera del centro de la poblacion, en esas casitas pintorescas y
poéticas de la Explanada, Rampart ó Carrondelet.
—Verá vd., me decia con su carácter movedizo y alegre, verá vd., lo
presento á vd. en muchas casas.... y vd. estudia y elige.
Aquella era una espectativa de excursiones, que bien necesitaba yo
para conocer en lo posible una poblacion, que aunque con el
prestigio de mil recuerdos, la veia bajo auspicios de profunda
tristeza.
 III

Quintero.—"El Picayune."—Hotel de San Cárlos.—Hoteles.—

Calle de Dumain.—J. Alcalde.

En el primer piso de nuestro hotel estaban los cuartos de Iglesias y

Gomez del Palacio; en una enmarañada contradiccion de puertas y
esquinas en más alto piso, yacia Lancaster al frente de su historia de
los Estados-Unidos, que consultaba frecuentemente.
Joaquin Alcalde, más elevado todavía, se escurria, se deslizaba y se
engatusaba en angostos corredores y oscuros tránsitos, saltando
como un aparecido, entre vericuetos y escaleras excusadas, y yo,
vecino á las nubes con horizontes de chimeneas, palizadas y
tendederos de indignos trapos, me fastidiaba de lo lindo, declarado
protector y como rey de las irlandesas, de los negros y de los gatos,
que por aquellas tierras son tan enamorados, perjudiciales y
nerviosos como por las nuestras, sin más diferencia que cierto
miramiento con las ratas, porque cuando se toman con ellas alguna
libertad, sufren ejemplares escarmientos.
Antes y despues de la comida nos reuniamos con Iglesias; se
hablaba de historia, de literatura, de bellas artes.... y yo, que salí
rudito y desaprovechado desde mis más tiernos años, desertaba
pian pianino, y resultaba en las cuatro esquinas, poniéndome á
discrecion del primer capricho que se me viniera á las mientes.
No encontrar á José Agustin Quintero, me tenia sin vida.
Tomé mis medidas de modo que no se me pudiera escabullir, porque
se trata de un hombre extraordinariamente ocupado.
A la oracion, calle de Camp, redaccion del Picayune.... Era la hora....
Fidelillo.... vamos allá....
Crucé la calle, anduve algunos pasos; un hervidero de muchachos
que salian saltando con sus Picayunes escurriendo agua, fueron mi
mejor aviso.... Atravesé por entre la turba de desastrados
muchachos, pregunté en el mostrador.... un gestudo, sin distraerse
de su quehacer, me dijo: up star, es decir, arriba, y me embebí en
una escalerilla lateral, volada como franja de pantalon, y tan angosta
que podria guardarse en el cañon de una escopeta.
Como de costumbre, me perdi: subí al quinto cielo, me hallé con un
mundo de prensas, descendí más, y eran peines y componedores:
abrí una portezuela que bien habria podido fungir de tapon ó de
válvula en cualquier país civilizado, y héme de rondon en medio de
mesas como de billar, con papeles, tinteros, libros abiertos y todas
las señales de una actividad febril.
 VIAJE DE FIDEL
LIT. H. IRIARTE, MEXICO
Calle del Canal. N. Orleans.

Cada quien estaba á su negocio, y las secciones de trabajo se hallan

perfectamente caracterizadas.
Aquí, papeles en todos los idiomas; más allá disputas sobre mejoras
materiales ó cuestiones científicas; aquel chico despabilado y
elegante, con cómicos, danzantes y corredores de caballos; y acá los
políticos, los comentarios de los actos del gobierno, las noticias de
sensacion.
En una esquina de aquella mesa habia un anciano de cabello
hirsuto; mejor dicho, de una explosion de blancos cabellos sobre su
frente calzada y llena de surcos: ceja tendida, ojos pequeños, una
máscara de cabello por barba, burdo paletó.... aspecto rudo.
Aquel anciano discutia con uno en español, con otro en frances, con
varios en inglés, con el de más adelante en italiano, diestro,
sarcástico, pero á todas luces un hombre eminente, que cautiva con
su grandeza de carácter y su elocuencia.
Yo me enamoré incontinenti de aquel noble viejo, y hoy es de mis
mejores amigos.
Estaba realmente como payo en zarzuela francesa, sin hablar, sin
preguntar por nadie, deslumbrado con los numerosos picos de gas
que ardian pendientes del techo, contra las paredes y sobre las
mesas, cuando ví venir hácia mí un hombre que habia estado
escribiendo en mangas de camisa, con un lápiz como tranca en la
mano, y que á sus lados y sobre su cabeza, arrojaba de cuando en
cuando, como erupciones, cuartillas de papel.
Aquel hombre era José Agustin.
Enorme cabeza, cuello corto, moreno concentrado, anchas espaldas,
chaparro y de una mirada que es todo un desencadenamiento de
pasiones, de afectos y de ternura generosa.
En aquel abrazo que confundia nuestras almas, sentia la patria, la
familia y la sociedad de cuanto más ama mi corazon.
Como cuando se quiere bien todos los dictados nos parecen pocos
para hacernos amar de los demás, José Agustin me presentó con sus
compañeros, con títulos de honor que realmente me hubieran
avergonzado; pero lo más gracioso del cuento es que aquel anciano
los repetia con un entusiasmo juvenil, cuando no me conocia sino de
nombre, y por haber leido y releido mis versitos.
Aquel caballero era M. Demitrith, uno de los hombres más eminentes
de los Estados-Unidos, y de quien hablaré detenidamente.
A las dos palabras era yo dueño, como suena la palabra, de Agustin,
de su casa, manifestando placer y orgullo en poner á mi disposicion
sus fondos, que son los que adquiere con su asíduo trabajo, y
trasluciéndosele el regocijo de que pudiera disponer de ellos.
Sagaz como una querida, previsor y bueno como un padre, abierto y
sincero como un amigo, Quintero me formó una atmósfera de goces
y consideraciones que jamás olvidaré.
En un tris tras garabateó Agustin por toneladas cuartillas de papel,
soltó el lápiz, nos despedimos de los amigos y corrimos al hotel de
San Cárlos á saludarnos, ó mejor dicho, á bautizar aquella nueva era
con la copa en la mano.
El hotel de San Cárlos es el mejor y más opulento de Nueva-Orleans.
En la parte baja, que es un espacioso salon circular, está la
elegantísima cantina, dos expendios suntuosos de tabacos, entradas
para baños y otras dependencias.
Fuera de ese salon, y en una especie de pórtico, están las escaleras
que ascienden á un descanso volado ó galería que da á la calle, y de
ese descanso conducen otras escaleras, entre columnas gigantescas,
por pavimento de mármoles y alfombras, al salon del despacho y
comunicaciones con las galerías del hotel.
En el segundo piso, siempre bajo bóvedas sostenidas por altas
columnas de cantería, recibe al viajero un extensísimo salon
alfombrado, lleno de espejos, con magníficos pianos, sofaes y
sillones de régia mansion.
De cada uno de esos pisos parten dilatados corredores alfombrados
y adornados con candiles de bombillas de gas. Los tránsitos dan á
cuartos aislados, á viviendas y á cómodos departamentos, en que
las familias tienen, por precios convencionales, cuantas comodidades
pueden apetecer: el gasto en general por persona es de cuatro
pesos cincuenta centavos: en nuestro hotel pagábamos veinte
realillos, sin los extras, que son una ganga.
Los primeros tragos entre Pepe (porque así llamamos á Quintero en
familia) y yo, desataron esa conversacion deliciosa, con una
interrupcion á cada palabra, que gira al acaso, y sin trabazon ni
ligadura, de los versos á los viajes, de éstos á las recetas de cocina,
y salta á las muchachas, y se caracolea entre juicios literarios,
paseos, crónica escandalosa y altas cuestiones sociales;
conversaciones á pierna suelta, sin piés ni cabeza, sin ortografía
conocida. Vamos! mi delicia, porque yo soy antípoda de los graves
en todas materias, sin duda porque entre ellos me he encontrado
siempre á los más serenados brutos y á los más redomados pícaros
que he tratado en mi vida. Una naturaleza monótona y uniforme, sin
sus granitos de locura, es perversa en el fondo, por regla general.
Bienaventurados los que no encuentran en su camino hombres ó
mujeres sin defectos.
Quintero me llevó á su casa, situada en el barrio frances, barrio
achacoso, interminable, limitado el horizonte de sus calles por
tejados extensos y de tan vária y abigarrada poblacion, que necesita
describirse especialmente.
Las calles en general son oscuras, y en las noches, lóbregas y casi
desiertas, sin más interrupcion en la oscuridad de las aceras, que los
bar-rooms y fondas, los expendios de ostiones, y pastelerías, uno
que otro club y un deshilache de jacales, tabucos, cuchitriles y
huroneras, que van entre lodazales hasta la orilla del rio, que parece
que ha enturbiado sus aguas adrede para no ver tanta indignidad de
mugre, tanta profanacion de la piel humana, tanta California de
basura y de fango, tanta injuria de los cinco sentidos como se
amontona en sus desventuradas orillas.
Quintero, desde la puerta de su casa, volvió á dejarme en mi
posada, no sin cita para todas sus horas libres.
Subia meditabundo y mústio los callejones que conducen á mi
reducida morada, cuando topé de manos á boca con Joaquin
Alcalde, que habia hecho una excursion solitaria y llegaba henchido
de fealdades y desengaños de la parte de la ciudad que habia
recorrido.
No obstante el mal humor que se columpiaba de las fruncidas cejas
de Joaquin, me dijo que subiésemos á mi cuarto á comunicarme,
como lo hacian todos mis compañeros, las noticias que adquirian y
podrian servirme para mi Viaje.
Me dijo respecto de hoteles, que el Metropolitano tiene una
excelente fonda francesa en que se sirve con esmero y limpieza, así
como en la fonda de Moses, calle del Canal; me habló de los hoteles
de San James, y en cuanto á restaurants, me citó el de Moreaud, el
de Víctor, el de Jhon, el de Antoine y el de Denechaud.
En el hotel frances, continuó, hay cafés á la usanza nuestra y á la
americana, en casi todas las cuadras.
Hay cerca de veinte clubs; pero los más prominentes son: Boston,
Pickwick, Shakspeare y Jokey-Clubs.
Aquí dejo á vd. lo qué he traducido, siguió Joaquin, relativo al Hotel
de San Luis, hoy casa de Estado, y que compitió en un tiempo con el
Hotel de San Cárlos:
"El Hotel de San Luis se construyó en 1841, siendo por
muchos años uno de los mejores hoteles del Sur.
"En este edificio, el pueblo de Nueva-Orleans, en el invierno
de 1842, hizo espléndida recepcion á Mr. Henry Clay, con
todo el refinamiento de lujo que le fué posible.
"En la sala de baile se reunieron, en 1843, para reformar la
Constitucion del Estado, los hombres de mayor influencia,
poder y talento de la Luisiana como Jhon R. Grimes, Pierre
Soulé, Cristian Roschins, Roman, Dowis, Curtis, Brent,
Marigny, Conrad, y otros distinguidos caballeros, literatos,
hombres de Estado y patriotas.
"Su elegante rotunda sirvió de Cámara de Comercio y
Lonja, para los meetings de los Wigs y demócratas, y
reuniones con objetos de beneficencia.
"Años despues de servir para tan nobles objetos, se
convirtió en casa de Estado."
—El edificio, me dijo Joaquin despues de concluir la lectura, es aquel
de la calle de San Luis, entre Chartres y Real.
—Ya recuerdo: grandioso, con las puertas cerradas y con muchos
negros en la banqueta.
—El mismo.
—¿Sabe vd., Joaquin, que entre esos hombres que reformaron la
Constitucion, los hay muy recomendables?
—Ya se ve que sí. Grimes, por ejemplo, era un abogado distinguido,
un patriota eminente, que se alistó como voluntario en 1815, y como
ayudante de Jackson prestó servicios á la patria con las armas en la
mano; por último, fué uno de los más elocuentes oradores de la
Union.
—Curtis tambien era hombre superior, y basta leer cualquiera de sus
obras para cerciorarse que era muy digno de figurar en aquella
notable asamblea.
—Yo con quien tuve buenas relaciones de la manera más casual, fué
con M. Pierre Soulé, frances de orígen, y uno de los hombres más
simpáticos que he tratado en mi vida. Si no fuera tan tarde, yo le
contaria á vd. algo de Soulé.
—Venga el párrafo, dijo Joaquin, y ocupando cada uno de nosotros
dos sillas, es decir, medio tendidos en una y apoyando el brazo y
parte de la espalda en otra, así comencé mi narracion.
Dábase sus verdes en el Abril de sus dias el año de 1859: una
comision del gobierno, unida á mi reconocido miedo al vómito, me
habia hecho atravesar la playa y trabar conocimiento con el puerto
de Alvarado, en donde encontré á Hernandez y Hernandez Pancho,
de viaje para el otro mundo por causa de una fiebre que le dejó sin
cara en que persignarse.
En un falucho incómodo y movedizo como una anguila, pero amplio
y capaz, emprendí mi viaje para Tlacotalpam, donde la familia
Ituarte, Carballo, Celeski y un clérigo distinguidísimo discípulo de D.
Alberto Lista, me dieron dias muy agradables.
La tripulacion de nuestra canoa pretensiosa, era de gente pobre, es
decir, jarochos disputadores y despiertos, de pantalon blanco, banda
encarnada y sombrerillo de paja; y jarochitas de enagua ampona,
mascada escarlata, rebozo terciado al desgaire y cachirulo empinado
con piedras y perlas falsas. No faltaban sus comerciantes llenos de
desenfao, con sus tabaquillos del grueso de una tranca, llevando al
hombro las chaquetas para que se dijese que iba allí gente decente.
Entre esos comerciantes iba uno de la casa de mi amigo Carlin, muy
afecto á la contesta formal y á los versos.
En la popa del falucho, dándome la espalda y con la vista al claro de
mar que se percibia á lo léjos, se destacaba un bulto negro, ó más
bien dicho, iba un hombre embozado en una amplísima capa, cosa
rarísima por aquellos lugares, con un sombrero de ala ancha que
caia sobre los bucles de un cabello de ébano, que se mecian sobre
sus hombros.
Vd. no conoce al Teloloapam; es el rio amplio y cristalino, limitan su
horizonte espesas arboledas y cortinajes de yerba, que cuelgan de
las ramas de los árboles y forman caprichosos cortinajes.
Entre los muros de verdura de las orillas y entre el ramaje de las
flores acuáticas, se ven parvadas de blancas garzas y multitud de
aves: como zafiros, topacios, jacintos y diamantes, vuelan los
insectos, despidiendo entre el follaje relámpagos de luz.... en los
recodos que forma el rio, se albergan por millares las chachalacas,
que aturden con sus gritos y remedan tumultuosas las voces
humanas.... y en las noches, de entre aquellos macizos de sombra,
de aquellas ramas y de aquellas aguas, saltan en explosion, se
extienden y derraman millares de luciérnagas que forman remolinos
de partículas de luz, de luceros, entre las que parece nadar el
cocuyo, cuya luz fosfórica, tendiéndose en la superficie, hace como
si fueran las aguas, vertientes de nítidas estrellas.
Eran las últimas horas de la tarde; la luz realzaba como un fondo ó
una plancha de oro espléndida; el ramaje de los árboles se
destinguia, produciendo esos abismos de brillo, esas irradiaciones
caprichosas, esos columpios de llama, esos calados de hojas y
reverberaciones que se ven y que desesperan porque no se pueden
explicar, como si Dios nos dijera: "Esta revelacion sublime de mi
existencia, esta intimidad entre lo que yo produzco y tu alma siente,
guárdala tú solo en tu corazon."
Yo contemplaba absorto aquel cuadro, y al bulto negro sin duda le
llamó tambien la atencion, porque le ví que se puso de pié dando su
frente al Ocaso, y marcándose su figura como rodeada de luz, como
en un marco de oro.
Entónces contemplé su fisonomía, que revelaba de luego á luego al
hombre extraordinario. Era aquel rostro la fusion de los tipos de
Mirabeau y de Danton, pero embellecidos y como dulcificados por
una mirada que encerraba todas las tempestades, entre los destellos
de los afectos generosos.
Atlético, moreno, con el pelo dividido en la medianía de la anchurosa
frente, cayendo sedoso en negros rizos sobre sus hombros, ojos
negros que abria iluminando y que cerraba como sujetándonos y
poniéndonos á su discrecion, como el puño de una mano de hierro.
Sin cuidarse mucho del personaje que á mí tanto me preocupaba,
uno de nuestros amigos me suplicó leyese unos versos que habia
recitado en Veracruz en la casa de mi querido amigo Dr. German
Brendt, alusivos á las desdichas de mi patria.
Leia mis versos con cierta emocion, por las circunstancias que me
rodeaban, y no sé si con cierta vanidad, para que me escuchase el
extranjero, aunque tenia mis dudas de que supiese castellano. De
pronto, é interrumpiendo mi lectura, dijo el desconocido: "Más
despacio," con marcado acento frances; yo obedecí sin réplica, y él
se volvió hácia mí, oyendo con suma atencion: cuando terminé mi
lectura, los amigos palmotearon, y él, de pié como estaba, se inclinó
y me abrazó la cabeza con profunda emocion.
El personaje no era otro que Mr. Pierre Soulé, una de las figuras más
prominentes entre los hombres de los Estados-Unidos.
Nacido en Francia en 1800, en muy temprana edad se dió á conocer
en el foro y se abrió paso en la prensa redactando el Enano
Amarillo; perseguido y multado por el gobierno frances, emigró á
Puerto Príncipe, donde cobró viva aficion por Cuba y la causa de sus
libertades.
Partió de Puerto Príncipe para Orleans en el mismo buquecillo de
vela que conducia á otro muchacho aventurero que se dirigió á
México, y andando los tiempos fué el general D. Adrian Woll.
En Orleans, sin relaciones, sin recursos, sin el más ligero
conocimiento del idioma, pero dotado de indomable energía de
carácter, se metió de jardinero en un convento y salió de allí
poseyendo admirablemente el idioma de Shakspeare, aunque
conservaba siempre el acento frances.
En medio de las agitaciones que sufria la Luisiana, se hizo oir su voz
elocuentísima, fijó la atencion pública, y en brazos del favor popular
fué conducido á la legislatura primero, y despues al Congreso de la
Union.
Venciendo en audacia al yankee, su palabra era temeraria en ciertas
ocasiones. Vindicando á López por la expedicion de Cuba, dijo que
López habia hecho más que Washington; pero que ellos no le
admiraban porque eran los serviles adoradores del Dios Exito.
¿Cómo no contar con su corazon generoso, la causa de Cuba?
¿cómo no reverberar en su alma la gran doctrina de la autonomía de
los pueblos? ¿qué mayores seducciones puede tener el derecho que
tratar del conjunto de las libertades del hombre?
Los representantes de la causa de Cuba, como Santacilia; los
mexicanos Uraga y Trias; los aventureros como Wolker, eran de la
tertulia de Soulé y éste no perdia ocasion de mostrar sus simpatías á
la causa de Cuba y de México.
Cuando la célebre expedicion del Marqués de la Habana, se escuchó
la voz de Soulé en defensa de nuestra patria.
Soulé iba á San Andrés Tuxtla á la casa de M. Próspere Legrand, á
donde yo me dirigia.
Viviamos juntos, recibiendo ambos la generosa hospitalidad de la
familia Legrand, que se empeñaba en hacernos comprender que
recibia favor con servirnos y mimarnos.
¡Cómo ha quedado en mi memoria grabado aquel carácter noble!
¡qué grandeza de alma! ¡qué riqueza de erudicion! ¡qué
espontaneidad de elocuencia!
Habia un punto en que siempre estábamos en desacuerdo y que era
una verdadera mancha en el sol de su inteligencia: los negros! El
decia que lo mejor á que podia llegar un negro era á ser esclavo de
un blanco; por supuesto yo me sublevaba contra la blasfemia social,
y Gabrielita, una preciosa niña de Legrand, de ocho á nueve años,
venia á ponernos en paz con sus chistes y monerías infantiles.
A la espalda de la casa de M. Legrand hay un amplio corredor que
da á un pequeño, pero primoroso jardin.
En ese corredor, frente á una mesita en que se nos servia café,
pasábamos las horas de la noche, unas veces acompañados de la
familia y otras solos.
En una de esas noches tibias, aromáticas, apasionadas y
sentimentales de la costa, hablé á Soulé de su ruidoso lance como
embajador de los Estados-Unidos en Madrid; nombramiento debido
al esfuerzo de los cubanos, entre los que descollaba por sus talentos
é importancia Pedro Santacilia.
La luna brillaba apacible; el aire embalsamado corria fresco como
vertiéndose en la atmósfera ardiente; á lo léjos se escuchaba la
imponente respiracion del mar.
Soulé hablaba: "En Madrid disfruté grandes satisfacciones; llevaba
en mi cabeza mil proyectos; me sonreia y me apasionaba la idea de
contribuir á la independencia de Cuba. Cuba se me aparecia como
una hermosísima cautiva, tendiendo á mí sus brazos y pidiéndome
su libertad.
Entre las muchas tertulias á que fuí invitado, ninguna me pareció
más espléndida que la dada en la casa del Baron Turgot.
El lujo, la concurrencia selecta y los accesorios del festin espléndido,
correspondian al alto renombre del nieto del gran financiero frances.
Me presenté al baile con mi familia, compuesta de mi esposa y de mi
hijo, que tendria entónces veinticuatro años. Ibamos vestidos á la
rigurosa moda americana, corregida por los recuerdos de nuestra
educacion europea.
A los pocos momentos de estar en el baile, corrió en la opulentísima
estancia algo de siniestro, un estremecimiento eléctrico, los rostros
vueltos á una de las puertas me advirtieron que algo pasaba: detrás
de la espesa fila de cabezas, tocados y plumas que cegaba la puerta,
ví atravesar precipitadamente á mi hijo con mi señora del brazo.
Apartando la concurrencia, los seguí veloz, entré con ellos en un
coche y en casa me informé que al pasar bailando mi señora frente
al duque de Alba, le habia ridiculizado su tocado, y habia habido
risas que cayeron como una saliva en el rostro de mi hijo.
Nos dirigimos yo al baron Turgot y mi hijo al duque, pidiendo
imperiosamente una reparacion del ultraje; propusiéronse medios de
transaccion y avenimiento; se interesó lo más florido de la corte en
la reconciliacion; todo fué en vano: el orgullo lastimado ciega; las
injurias hechas á las personas que amamos, nos hieren en lo más
vivo; nos parece que el que se degrada á ofender á nuestra señora,
es fuerza que lo veamos de rodillas ó muerto á nuestros piés.
Ajustáronse los dos duelos á la vez: el mio deberia ser á la pistola, el
de mi hijo á la espada: propusiéronme la distancia de cuarenta
pasos; yo expuse que aquello era demasiado cobarde; es decir,
añadí, muy cobarde; yo soy americano: será á veinte pasos. Y así se
estipuló.
Durante los arreglos de este duelo, como si hubiese sido convenido,
evitamos mi hijo y yo toda explicacion; pero las conversaciones,
aunque revestidas de indiferencia, vibraban de emocion, no por el
peligro, sino por la identidad de situaciones: álguien habria querido
dar al otro testimonio de ternura, y ambos nos retraiamos sufriendo
agonías indecibles.
Al llegar frente á nuestros adversarios, la suerte nos designó á M.
Turgot y á mí; nuestros padrinos suplicaron muy cortesmente á mi
hijo no presenciase aquella escena.... se apartó mi hijo de aquel
lugar á un signo; pero se volvió involuntariamente y hubo no sé qué
de atraccion en nuestros cuerpos.... yo no sé qué escena muda se
verificó.... que hubo un movimiento general como para reponerse
cada quien, sin mostrarla, de aquella protesta de la naturaleza
ultrajada.
Ya sabe vd. el resultado con el noble, con el valiente Baron: heríle
gravemente en una pierna, le ví caer, acudieron los cirujanos.... un
coche lo despareció de nuestros ojos.... aunque al lado de mi
adversario me llevaban mis instintos, el duelo de mi hijo me
preocupaba hondamente.
Ideas que no habian asaltado mi mente, exageraciones de peligros,
que al tratarse de mí, ni siquiera habia sospechado, duda sobre la
destreza en la espada del que tanto se exponia por la honra de la
madre, reproches á mí de no haber asumido los dos lances, todo me
asaltó, y me sentia rendido, y era mi suplicio terrible, y mi dolor,
sobre todos los dolores que un hombre puede sufrir.
Estaba pegado á un árbol cuyas ramas me cubrian; entre las hojas,
ya presentándose claros los objetos, ya medio cubiertos y confusos,
seguia las peripecias de la lucha.... si el árbol hubiese presentado
una superficie como el papel ó el lienzo, en él hubiera quedado
esculpida mi figura.... vertian mis poros mi vida atormentada....
Terminó aquel duelo sin consecuencias sérias.... yo me sentí viejo al
separarme de aquel sitio.... y el recuerdo de este duelo pasa
sombrío en mi alma.... como si no fuese mia la justicia...."
En esta narracion que presento, no solo descarnada y fria, sino con
mil inexactitudes por los muchos años que han trascurrido, conocí la
fascinadora, la omnipotente elocuencia de Soulé: el comenzar de su
discurso era frio, no hallaba las frases adecuadas por la costumbre
que tenia de hablar en inglés: pero una vez poseido de su objeto,
una vez imperando altivo su corazon, una vez subyugado por su
inspiracion poderosa, se comprendia su poder mágico sobre las
masas, y el peso de su palabra en las altas cuestiones á que
consagraba su talento.
Alcalde se levantó silencioso de su asiento, y desapareció de mi
cuarto.
 IV

La cuestion del Sur.—M. de Gayarré.—Xarifa.

Revueltos andaban los ánimos de los politiqueros en cuanto á la

cuestion del gobierno de la Luisiana y nombramiento de empleados
subalternos.
Los adoradores del buen sentido práctico de los yankees, sonaban
palmas arrodillados ante el Dios Exito, y á mí, por lo mismo que no
me importaba la cosa, hacia cada berrinche por los atropellos de la
ley, que me acalambraba.
Para dar idea de la situacion política que guardaba la Luisiana en los
dias en que nosotros nos hallábamos en Orleans, copio en seguida
los párrafos de una carta en que un respetable y sabio amigo
hablaba de estos asuntos á un corresponsal de México:
"Al celebrarse en los Estados-Unidos las elecciones
presidenciales de 1876, el candidato de los republicanos era
Rutherford B. Hayes, y Samuel Tilden el de los
demócratas."
"En el cómputo de los votos emitidos por los Estados y
sobre los cuales no habia disputa, uno solo faltaba á Tilden
para tener la mayoría absoluta; pero habiendo habido
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