Chapter two

Nixe sauntered over, set down the brimming mug and placed herself in her prospect's lap. His arm wound around her waist receptively, his hands rested on her thighs.

She smiled. "Wot's a good looking gent like yo'self doing 'ere all alone?" She drawled with an English accent at full tilt in her voice.

His eyebrows knit together when he heard it, and he gave her a puzzled smile.

"Wot's a matter? Cat got yur tongue?" She purred, before she leaned in and captured his mouth with her own.

He kissed her back hungrily, pulling her tight against his chest. Finally she leaned back and broke the kiss, breathless, and brought a hand to her lips.

"Now then, where'll we go? What do you prefer mate? Standing, beach, bed?"

He smiled at her, and laughed in her face. "Come now," he rumbled, pulling her back against him. "I thought you were just being friendly…"

She pulled away from him in disgust, dark eyes snapping, and hair whirling over her shoulder, trinkets clacking.

"Ye be bloody lucky that the first one be free." She snarled in reference to their kiss, as she straightened her slipping bodice.

His smile widened, took on a bit of a predatory air. "Lost that rash accent, I see."

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious and hostile now. "Wot's a man such as yer self doing in a cathouse, with no lady on yer lap?" The accent was twined about her words once more, settling back as comfortably as an old dress to its wearer's frame.

He reached for his purse, which was obscenely full. "Four schillings if you can tell me your father's name, chit."

Nixe licked her lips, and planted her hands on her hips, angling her stance away from him, ready to run if she had to. "Why?" she said flatly.

He shrugged trying for nonchalance, but his eyes were hard on her face, and smile still played at the corners of his mouth. "Four schillings." He jangled his purse invitingly.

Nixe was tempted...Tempted to give him a false name, to snatch the purse from betwixt his fingers and make a dash for it. But she'd be caught, and she knew it. This man was no idiot, nor was he some slug-abed. The muscles in his arms and neck told her that. She cast a furtive glance at his long legs. No, it was not worth the risk.

"Get out." Her voice was ice, hard and unforgiving.

"What?" The smile was now gone completely from his face, his dark eyes dangerous.

She leaned in until she was just inches from his face, trusting that he would not strike her in full view of everyone else in the crowded bar room. "Get out now, or we'll run you out." She straightened and pointed to the door.

A few of the other girls and their gents had turned to gape at the commotion she was causing and a ripple of laughter swelled about the room and followed the man as he got up and walked to the door of the tavern.

He would get no more girls asking for his favor tonight whether he wanted them or not. He was marked.

With a shake of his head, he closed the door behind him, eyes still settled uncannily on Nixe's livid face. He would remember this, the eyes said.

The dark girl shuddered in the warm salty night, turned away and went back for another drink. One she had no coins to pay for.

By doing so, she would be even more in debt to this hellish place than she already was, and she knew it, but that did not stop her from traipsing behind the bar and taking a pull off of one of the bottles. Tonight, she just did not care. Once again, she had come too close to losing it all. And this second time was just too close for comfort.

OOO

Aha. And there you go. If you are reading this, please review…I'm not a fan of ghosts. (Readers who hit a story and don' bother to review) But thanks for looking anyways. Hits make my day too.

PLK