Daughter of the Thirteen: Bourbon Street Witches Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

the debauchery that existed in the District, but they were never very specific.
    When they turned onto Basin Street, the houses were more lavish.
    With so much beauty, she couldn’t imagine the District’s wickedness was near as bad as what the nuns insinuated.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Mora.”
    “So what is it you do?” Laurel asked her.
    Mora giggled. “Don’t you know what the District is?”
    Laurel shook her head.
    “Well this is where the gentlemen of the city come to have fun. I pleasure them … for a price.”
    Laurel’s mouth fell open. “You mean you’re a …?
    “Well of course … what else do you think I’d be doing in the District?” Mora rolled her eyes. “Where have you been living anyway … under a rock?”
    “Saint Michael’s,” Laurel confessed.
    “Oh, well that explains it! You’re probably as innocent as they come. Madam could get a lot of money for you … if you decide to work for her. You could make a good living … maybe save your money for when you get too old to work?” Mora suggested, hope glistening in her blue eyes.
    Laurel shook her head. “I couldn’t do that … besides I’m not a virgin,” she lied, hoping it would make her appear less valuable.
    “Really?” Mora stopped in her tracks. “Well we could still pass you off as a virgin.”
    “Isn’t there something else I could do … like clean or cook?” Laurel didn’t like the thought of spending the night on the street, but she also didn’t want to do what Mora did.
    Mora shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll have to talk with Madam Arlington. She might have some use for you.”
    Finally they stopped in front of a large mansion. It was lavish, but such elegance was common for the District, from what she’d seen so far.
    Climbing the stairs, Mora let herself in the double mahogany doors. Laurel followed her, but stopped as soon as she entered. The sheer beauty of the place was a shock. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before.
    Plush red velvet drapes covered the long windows in the parlor, and a huge, crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The elegantly carved French furniture was also covered in plush velvet.
    Just off the grand hall, there was a spiral staircase that led to the second story. Even that was beautiful, its banister carved in delicate designs.
    “Nice hah?” Mora seemed amused by Laurel’s reaction.
    When she didn’t respond, Mora continued chattering, motioning for Laurel to follow her as she climbed the staircase.
    “Even to me, this place is spectacular, and I grew up in houses like this.”
    “You did?” Laurel couldn’t mask her surprise.
    Mora’s full lips dipped into a frown. “Well Miss Saintly … growing up in a brothel isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a girl.”
    Laurel looked at her curiously, waiting for more. It wasn’t long in coming.
    “My grandparents raised eight kids on a farm in Mississippi. When Grandpa died, there wasn’t enough food to go around, so my ma set out on her own,” Mora explained. “She ended up in New Orleans. There isn’t much else for a gal to do here to get fed, except maybe find herself a fancy man, or work in a brothel. I’m guessing you could work the streets, but the money isn’t good there, and it’s rampant with disease.”
    Laurel wasn’t sure of what to say. Mora could have done a lot worse … but to work in a brothel wasn’t exactly the best she could have done either.
    Mora narrowed her eyes and glared at Laurel. “I can tell by the look on your prudish face that you don’t approve, but until you’ve really experienced the streets … you won’t have any idea what it’s like.”
    Turning on her heels, Mora continued up the stairs.
    Laurel scrambled to catch up.
    The second floor halls were nearly as fancy as the main floor.
    Laurel continued to follow Mora down the hall, expecting her to stop at one of the dozen or so doors, but she didn’t. Instead, she led her to another staircase, this one