The Thorndykes 1: Dispossessed Read Online Free

big hall.
    The space held at least half a dozen doors and one of the sweeping staircases Lucille had only ever seen in movies before. It should have Scarlett O’Hara or Bette Davis swanning up them. Instead, they had to make do with her. The least she could do was have a look around.
    Maybe she’d sneak off home then. Call a cab. She had her cell phone tucked in the pocket of her dress together with some cash, her keys, and a lipstick. A quick tour of the premises and then an equally quick getaway seemed in order.
     
    JAY STROLLED THROUGH the rooms, careful not to stop for too long, or someone would trap him. Some had their own Regency costumes, and some had taken advantage of the wardrobes he offered for their convenience. Nobody got in here without at least making the effort to dress in period.
    He’d had his own clothes created by a tailor who knew what he was doing. His skintight pantaloons were topped by an ivory-toned waistcoat embroidered delicately with gold thread, and a formfitting collarless coat in dead black, the shade that cost so much to produce before chemical dyes made colors more vivid. He’d brushed his hair a la Brutus, the short, choppy style he’d favored back then, and tied his neckcloth himself into the elaborate confection of folds called the Waterfall. A diamond solitaire pin nestled lovingly at his throat, and he wore a gold watch and chain with a quizzing glass hanging from a loop at his waist—one he knew how to use, if anyone dared challenge him. He completed the outfit with the obligatory mask, but his was a black silk bandage executioner-style with slits for his eyes, in startling contrast to the elegant, expensive clothes.
    He wanted to remind people, even the ones who didn’t know about his Talent, what he could do, who he was. He strode through the crowd, people staring at him, trying to catch his attention. Deadly ennui crept through his veins, insidiously pressing at him. By the time he’d walked through the rooms set aside for the affair, he let it take its usual grip on his senses. One of the worst emotions because of his inability to fight it. Horror, terror, disgust—he could combat those, but not the paralyzing flatness of boredom, always his deepest enemy. One of his reasons for throwing these elaborate parties was to try to ease the emotion, but even that distraction had stopped working recently.
    She wasn’t there, the woman who’d piqued his interest earlier today.
    He nodded to some of the people sitting or lying on the sofas he’d provided, broad, heavy affairs with cylinder-shaped pillows, so useful for sexual invention. He watched a man position a woman over one, her ass in the air, legs wide apart, and waited until the man rammed inside her. Jay observed them for a minute or two, wondering if it was worth joining in. She had plump breasts made fuller by her position, sweet treats for anyone who felt so inclined to lend a hand.
    Something tingled his nerves, but not the sight of the woman clearly preparing to take all comers. A dish of condoms lay close to hand. One of his few rules was that everyone should use them—a definite improvement on his day.
    That tingle— The woman screamed, sidetracking him for a bare second, then sensation flashed across his mind, and his senses went on high alert.
    He knew every Talent he’d invited here tonight—their sigils, their mental signatures—but not this one. The presence too fleeting for him to properly identify, only the sex—male—and the Talent, shape-shifter. That was all.
    Why would a Talent arrive and not announce himself to the others who’d attended? Jay didn’t know this person. But the scream had distracted the unknown Talent for a brief fraction of a second longer than it had him. Then the shield had snapped shut.
    Fuck . He had to assume the enemy had found a way in. Not all Talents worked on the same side.
    Until a moment ago, deep disappointment had filled him that Lucille hadn’t showed, but now he