Chapter 11

Dinner was utterly decadent, and the conversation eased into more pleasant areas that allowed everyone to relax a bit. Mari enjoyed a perfectly roasted chicken with a rich red wine sauce that lingered on her palate even after it was gone. She praised the house witch who had prepared it and asked if they could send Giselle the recipe. The woman blushed and stammered a little before she agreed that she would be happy to pass along the details.

Once the plates were cleared and coffee and after-dinner drinks were served, the servers vanished back through the portal and Esmé settled back into business. "I want to discuss the club."

Mari sipped her cappuccino to buy herself a moment to think. She had no idea what Esmé would want to talk about that. "What about the club?"

Esmé slid a cautious glance toward Cisco before her eyes returned to rest on Mari. "You've never been there. Do you know what goes on?"

"I have some idea," Mari said dryly. She didn't know if Esmé was trying to play on her inexperience in the role or something else entirely, and the lack of clarity stung.

"Do you know how the employees are treated? How they were recruited by your father?"

Cisco reached for her hand under the table. The clasp of his fingers felt somehow desperate. "She has no idea about any of that."

Esmé frowned. "Well, I suppose your ignorance is better than your being complicit."

Cisco growled low in his chest, but Mari squeezed her fingers around his to forestall him from jumping to her defense. "I'm well aware of how monstrously he treated everyone in his orbit. I don't imagine those at the club are any exception."

Esmé snorted. "They're paid barely enough to survive in the city and charged exorbitantly for scraps. He trawled the margins of society for the most vulnerable and turned them into slaves for the magic he could squeeze from their desire and suffering."

Mari stared, hoping that someone would contradict Esmé but knowing to her deepest places that no one would. Her heart broke for the people who had been victimized by her father. "That's awful." She sighed as she contemplated yet another mess her father had created that she was going to have to clean up.

Frowning, Cisco said, "We can't afford for there to be an interruption in the flow of magic right now. That's the reason we haven't gone there to deal with it yet."

Esmé nodded. "You all have more than enough on your plates. Let me take over the club."

Cisco grumbled. "Your establishments are in direct competition with the club. Why would we let you take it over?"

Esmé glared at him. "That is an insult. My establishments provide high-end pleasure experiences. La Petite Mort is a charnel house."

Mari held up a hand to head off the argument that was brewing. "What's your proposal?"

Esmé focused on her. "For a fifteen percent cut off the top, cash and magic, I'll run the whole place from top to bottom, deal with the personnel situation, and guarantee at least a two-fold increase in three years."

Mari didn't know enough about Esmé to know the answer to her question, so she asked, "How will you deal with the staff?"

Esmé tilted her head. "I'm going to send those who don't want to do the work away with a fair payment and provide the rest with wages commensurate with what I pay others who work for me. I have a list of names to fill the vacancies created by that already from my other ventures."

"And the increase in profits?" Cisco asked into the pause in the conversation that followed.

Esmé smiled gloriously. "That's the beauty of this plan. By increasing the happiness of the people who work at the club, we'll draw a different clientele, broaden the appeal of the place, and increase revenue."

Cisco watched her carefully. "Won't those positive changes cause some people who are currently clients to leave?"

"None of us will miss those who are driven away by the lack of suffering," Esmé said with certainty.

"Like my father," Mari added.

Esmé spread her hands. "I wasn't going to say it."

"What about Argento?" Cisco asked.

Mari didn't know much about the incubus who ran the club now aside from the fact that he had a sadistic streak that rivaled even her father and Rio seemed to have a grudge against him. The few times she'd met him, the cold look in his eyes had made her shiver, and not in a good way.

At the mention of the current club manager's name, the person to Esmé's right stiffened slightly. Esmé must have felt the change in energy around her, because she moved to rest her hand in her attendant's lap without looking.

"I will deal with him personally. We have some bad blood between us that I'd like to see settled." Esmé shot Cisco a sharp look. "I would like for all of you not to be involved in that at all."

"You worked at the club as a submissive," Rio said from Mari's left side. He'd been quiet since the plates were cleared, silently observing the conversation, but now he regarded the person across from him with a sympathetic expression.

"I did," they said with a voice like frozen honey, brittle and shattered. They held Rio's gaze and dared him to say something more. He did not.

When Mari glanced Cisco's way, he shrugged. "The guy is a menace. Anyone who would leave because he's no longer in charge, we likely don't want anyway."

Mari turned back to Esmé. "How do we know we can trust you?"

"We'll hire an impartial law witch to draw up a bonded contract." She folded her hands, one over the other, on the table in front of her. "Your responsibilities and mine will be clearly laid out. The law witch handles the magical cut-over, and our bankers handle the money. Everyone is protected."

"You'll be tied to us, legally and magically," Cisco said.

"That's true." Esmé smiled. "I'll be invested in your success, but I think all of us have substantial things we can gain in this arrangement."

"We'll discuss it and get back to you tomorrow," Cisco said.

"One more thing," Esmé added after a few seconds. She locked eyes with Mari. "I'll need you at the club right after management changes hands."

"Whoa." Cisco held up a hand. "That's not something we want to force this early."

"You're worried that it will upset her," Esmé purred. "That's very sweet, but she should see the mess her father created before I fix it. And I also need everyone there to know what I'm doing is blessed by the new monarch."

"I'm not a monarch," Mari replied with annoyance.

"You are," Esmé said, "even if you don't want to be. The paranormals of Las Vegas need someone to keep them in line, and you're it. Your father, bastard though he was, was far from the worst in the city, and he kept them all from each other's throats."

Mari suddenly realized something. "That's really why you don't want the job, isn't it?"

Esmé inclined her head. "Guilty as charged. While I enjoy being the queen of my own hive, I don't feel the need to be the queen of the city."

"Too much responsibility." Mari smiled. "We'll talk about your offer and get back to you."

Esmé and her two attendants rose as one. "It was good to see you all again." She nodded at each one of them in turn. "Mariana. Francisco. Mario."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Mari tried at the last second.

Esmé indicated the person on her right. "Willow." And then the one on her left. "Hyssop." She smiled indulgently. "Don't worry if you can't tell them apart. No one ever can but me."

"Then they aren't paying attention," Rio said as he rose to bow to first Willow and then Hyssop. "Charmed."

Willow, the one he'd had the brief conversation about the club with, didn't quite smile. "It was nice to see you again under better circumstances."

"Yes." Rio paused briefly before turning to Esmé. "If you need help with Argento, you have my number."

Esmé regarded him quietly for a moment and then turned to leave without responding.