“Ah; I knew I'd like you. It's about time you made your way to my door, Wild One,” Samedi said. “And how ya been, Sun-Rod?”
“I'm good, thank you, Sam,” Re said as he shook Sam's hand. “It appears that Pan needs no introduction, but these are three of Vervain's husbands; Azrael, Trevor, and Kirill.”
“Three of the husbands, eh?” Samedi looked the men over. “What we got 'ere? An angel, a wolf, and a lion? Nice little menagerie, cher.”
“Sam, take it easy on them,” I said. “Someone's killing Azrael's friends. That's why we're here.”
“Killin' your friends?” Sam asked Az as he went serious. Then he transferred his hard stare to me. “You ain't be thinkin' I have something to do with it, Godhunter?”
“Of course not, Sam,” I chided him. “We're here to ask for your help.”
“Oh!” Sam went back to smiling his toothy grin. “In dat case; come on in. We aim to please here, and we do as we please.” He turned around and started leading us down a dimly lit hallway. “Basic'ly, there be a lot of pleasin' going on. Although, sometimes, the aimin' be off!”
Sam pointed at a guy who was kneeling before a woman in the hallway. He was between her legs and beneath her vibrant skirts; making sucking sounds that had me blushing. The woman's head was angled up, her eyes were closed in bliss, and both of her hands were pressed against the moving bulge of the man's head. One of her knees was over the man's shoulder.
“I mean you, Nibo!” Sam declared. “You'd better clean my wall when you're done down there.”
Nibo grunted.
“I feel like I've just fallen into a porno,” Trevor muttered as we stepped into Samedi's social room.
It was a massive place—cavernous even—with a rectangular dining table at one end, sprawling collections of sitting areas in the center, and beds of differing styles around the edges. The lighting was low, the conversation crass when it wasn't straight-up sexual, and smoke hung in a heavy fog around the mirrored ceiling. I frowned at that; I hadn't noticed the mirrors the last time I was there. Perhaps it was because I'd been too busy trying to keep my gaze from straying to the wild sex happening in most of the beds... and on the sofas, ottomans, tables, and even the floor.
“Cherie!” A stunning woman with golden curls streaming around her pale shoulders came rushing over to hug me.
“Hey, Brigitte,” I said as I hugged her back. “You look fantastic, as usual.”
“Sweet girl!” She slapped my shoulder lightly as she pulled away.
And then she saw the men.
“Who be these fine men?” She asked in a Creole accent just as thick as Samedi's. “Such lovely lookers. For me? You shouldn't have.”
“Aw, how ya hurt me!” Samedi cried dramatically. “You want one; go ahead and try, mon cher. I love me a good cat fight.”
“They yours?” She asked me.
I chuckled. “Brigitte, these are my husbands; Trevor, Kirill, and Azrael.” The men nodded to her as I said their names. “But Pan is single.”
“Pan!” Brigitte declared. “Oh, honey, I heard 'bout you. Talk say you more den an all-nighter, you an all-weeker, even an all-monther ifen the inspiration take hold of ye.”
“That I am!” Pan declared proudly. “Care to inspire me, beautiful lady?”
“You be an all-deader if you touch my wife, Pan,” Samedi said without any heat.
The couple may flirt with others and do a lot of watching, but they were monogamous and very much in love. No one was going to touch Brigitte; she'd hurt them before her husband could.
“No problem.” Pan held his hands up. “Anyone else here married? I don't want to get into a fight on my first visit. Maybe my second, but on the first, that would be rude.”
“We're all single here, cher; you come on over,” a honey-skinned beauty called. “We appreciate a man who can last.”
“And we heard 'bout your flute,” another woman said with a lascivious smile. “I been meanin' to try my hand at playin' one.”
“They're Pan pipes,” Pan corrected. “But I may have a better instrument for you to put your lips around.”
“Bring it here, Greek,” the first woman dropped to her knees and licked her lips. “I'll blow every pipe you have.”
“I said I wanted to blow him,” the other woman protested.
“Ladies, you can each have a turn making music with me,” Pan said as he sauntered over to the women. “I'm a tireless musician.” Over his shoulder, he mouthed to Re, “Thank you.”
Within seconds, another bed was occupied.
“Ho' damn!” Samedi declared as he watched Pan in action. “Someone video that shit.”
“I charge for recordings,” Pan called back.
“You're in my house, Greek,” Samedi called back—clearly enjoying the banter. “You want to stay, you play by my rules.”
Pan removed his face from a set of impressive breasts to ask, “What rules are those?”
Samedi frowned. “Shit; I ain't got none. How about a few pictures instead?”
Pan's reply was muffled, but it sounded like assent.
“Yes!” Samedi shouted. “Babaco, get your camera.”
“On it!” Babaco ran off.
“You here for a visit, V?” Brigitte asked as if all that hadn't just happened.
“Hail to the V!” A man called over to us from the dining table.
“Hey, Krim,” I called back as I waved at Kriminel. “How's it hanging?”
“Not at all; it be thick and straight, pointing right at you, Godhunter! You wanna give me a ride instead of Re?”
Trevor started to growl, and Kirill swung his head toward Krim with a dangerous look in his eyes.
“This is their way; it doesn't mean anything,” Azrael said to them. “He's basically saying a friendly hello.”
“Look at dat; the angel be knowin' more dan the beasts,” Samedi said to his wife. “No need for jealousy here.”
