1. Lark

Chapter 1

Lark

There is exactly one strip club in Hex, Indiana, and I'm the headliner. Not of my own free will, mind you. If it were up to me, I'd be home in the Fae realm. Probably entertaining or sleeping with whatever noble Fae wanted a courtesan in his bed for the night. But no. I'm scantily dressed in a pair of glittery white booty shorts and go-go boots for a crowd of people, not all human.

My long pink hair cascades down my back and I'm thankful every day my captor doesn't force me to cut it. It takes everything in me not to scratch at the layer of body glitter making my skin itch. Not that my blunt nails are much help to begin with.

Every night, the group of witches that show up sip on mugs of spells. Who knows what they conjure as they look upon me? I sure as shit don't. The stench of sulfur sometimes gets so bad we have to evacuate the club. Apparently not tonight, though. I can't smell it backstage at all. And we can't always attribute the sulfur to the witches. Sometimes it's the various demons. Or even just a problem in one of the bathrooms.

My wings flitter in their freedom from the dreaded binder. I roll my shoulders and stretch. Music thumps on the main stage beyond the silvery curtain I stand behind.

Do you know how sacred the job of courtesan is in the Winter Court of the Fae? Very. I was trained from the age of three until the day I fell through the stupid veil between worlds. I could play seven different instruments, speak five Fae languages, talk confidently on politics, and engage in at least twelve games of entertainment all before the age of fifteen. But now I'm reduced to barely dressing and entertaining with my body rather than my wits.

"Trick, baby, you never get enough glitter on." Ava, Drake's other captive, turns me to face her. I never gave my true name to anyone in the human realm, so everyone calls me Trick. As in tricksy Fae.

"That's because it itches." I reach back to scratch a shoulder blade.

"But Drake likes you sparkly." Ava dusts glitter powder along my cheeks and nose while she scrunches her brows in concentration. Then she dusts my hair from mid-length to the ends that stop right at the swell of my ass. "Perfect."

Ava's green eyes sparkle with silver eyeliner. Her cropped brunette hair has more glitter than mine. Her smile reveals small fangs. Ava's a cursed werewolf rather than a born one. Drake captured her during a full moon before I was stolen and promised to help her. Ava doesn't dance, but she helps the other performers and cleans up the place.

"Don't look so sad, Tricksy." She squeezes my arm with her own sadness coming through loud and clear. "No one wants a sad performer. Get out there, do your thing, and remember to…" Ava waits for me to finish.

"Smile." I give her a big fake grin. We both laugh out of the ridiculousness.

Ava sighs as she pets my shoulder. "I hope they don't want to see your light tonight." She spins me back around again and I press my hands to the wall so she can examine my wings. "Drake hasn't let you have enough sun."

"It's my big mouth. I can't keep it shut lately." I shake my head and glitter rains into my lashes.

"Yes, but he knows you need it. You're a cute little houseplant. You require food, water, and sunlight ."

I snort. "I rather not be compared to a plant."

She's grinning when I face her again. She cups my cheeks in her hands. They're rough and I always wonder if in the past they were soft. My mother had— has —soft hands. She was the beloved courtesan of the Autumn Court until she had my older brother and me, then she moved us all to the Winter Court.

She always wore a jasmine and rose perfume that smelled divine. Sometimes I get a whiff of one scent or the other and my heart aches for the home I barely remember now. I long for marble columns and elaborate tapestries, not stale air stenching of old magic. I wish for the silk bedsheets promised to me. I miss my mother's voice when she sang for court. Or the music when my brother and I danced for the Winter king. Not this type of dance. Something akin to the human's ballet. Elegant. Beautiful.

"You're lost in the past again. Come back. This is your life. Drake has us both good and stuck." Ava's words sting and I have to push away the desire to snap back. But Ava's my one true friend. The one person who knows what it's like to be Drake's pet. The other dancers look down their noses at me. I may have been a brat when I was forced to start dancing here, but over the years, I've tried to apologize.

I take in a breath and nod. I know Ava is right, but I'll never give up hope that I can go home one day.

The jingle of twinkling bells marks my time for the stage. I bounce on my toes and drop my wings. I have to tease their reveal.

"Break a leg, Trick." Ava boops my nose, our little good luck charm, and I walk through the curtain to my crowd.

My boots clip on the dazzling floor of the stage. There are faint lights along the edges, so I know where to step.

It's always the scent of magic that hits me first. Something like the mix of ozone and citrus. The lights are dim, which means one thing: Drake wants me to share my light. My stomach twists. Maybe I can stall everyone with a raunchy performance. While I don't strip naked, I'm still required to dance, and when I can, use Fae illusions.

I saunter to the pole in the middle of the stage. It's gold clashing with the silver of the rest of the decor, but Drake doesn't care as long as my performance satisfies him and his guests. I undulate against the pole, making sure every witness sees the definition of my cock as I rub against it. The scent of arousal fills the air and I thank the powers that be that Drake never thought to sell me to the highest bidder. Sure, my career had I stayed in the Fae realm would have been a courtesan, but it's nothing like what people in the human realm do to each other. It's a respected profession.

The music speeds up, and I continue on with my dance. A few in the crowd murmur that they want to see my wings. Want to see my light.

My heart pounds. Light is impossible when I haven't been in the sun for the last week. Another few days and I won't be mobile. Sweat slicks my palms and I slide down the pole, causing the crowd to turn on me.

"Either get naked or show us your wings!" someone calls out.

"I want to see him light up!" Another yells.

I've never gotten naked on stage before. Drake's never made me. Even in the Fae realm I'd never be forced to be naked in front of a room of people unless it was my choice and a contract was drawn up on the event's expectations and requirements.

"Stop toying with us, Trick," Drake says. "Show us the light."

Trembling, I turn to show the crowd my back where my wings lay limp. The music starts again, something soft and gentle. I can't allow myself to fall into the trap of fear and I tune out of my own thoughts, searching for a conversation behind me to latch onto. There's always always a private conversation that shouldn't be held in a venue such as this.

"…summoned a crossroads demon."

And there it is. Hope . Real hope.

I lift one set of my double dragonfly wings, letting them flitter and wave at the guests. The patrons calm down as soon as they realize they get to see my wings. I look behind me and blow a kiss before taking the pole in hand again. I sway as I take in the conversation. I don't recognize the voices of the speakers, so I have to wonder if they're new around here.

"He was a small one. I thought he'd be big as a house, but the demon was barely bigger than the Hellcat he brought with him." The person snorts.

"What'd you bargain for?" The other one asks.

"I wanted a first edition of Haggley's Dark Spell Book. No one's seen one in decades and I know there are at least five in existence."

"What'd you give up for it?"

"My sense of taste." The person's words sound bitter.

"But Bet's cooking?!"

"I know. I know. But I got the book. It'll be worth it."

The lights dim until the only thing I can see is the pole in front of me and the floor lights. That's my sign. My wings shake in time with the beat of my heart. I squeeze my eyes shut and will my light to fill the veins of my wings. Something hits me in the leg and falls into my boot. It's hard and cold and I can't pay attention to the uncomfortable sensation.

"Trick," Drake says my name as a warning. If I don't get glowing, I'll get whipped. That always produces my light.

I shake my hands out and bounce on my toes again. Another deep breath and I try once again. This time the tale tell warmth of magic flows down my shoulders and into my back before spreading through my wings. A cry of relief escapes my lips before I can stop it. I don't know where the strength comes from, but it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees in gratitude.

I continue on with my set as usual until the lights come on little by little again and the last of my music stops. Spinning toward the crowd, I take my bow. The patrons throw money from all the realms on stage and I have to keep from sliding on it. Ava rushes out to help me clear the dollars and start the cleanup for the night. She squeezes my arm as we pass each other.

"You had more spark in you than I realized," she whispers. "I'm so glad." So am I. I don't relish a beating when it's Drake's fault I don't have enough sunlight to begin with.

I make my way to the dressing area and sit at my designated vanity. Ava had my mirror personalized years ago. Frosted into the mirror, TRICK stares back at me. Trick. Not my name. And I won't ever claim to be Trick. He's not the real me. No. The real me, Lark , has hope to get back home again and I think I have a way to do it now.

Remembering the strange object that fell into my boot, I yank off the left one to reveal a gold coin.

I suck in a breath as I examine the faces. One raven and the other a dragon. This isn't just any gold coin, it's a legend. Probably the reason my light came today. It's a Fae luck coin. I look around, making sure there's no one here with me. I'm clear, so I strip and put on my usual bland baggy jeans and too tight t-shirt Drake dresses me in. I shove the coin in my pocket just as Drake stomps into the room.

"What the fuck was that, Trick?" He grabs a handful of my hair and makes me face him.

I hold the hair at my scalp to keep the pressure off. "I was mixing things up. Trying to give you a better show."

"It looked more like you were stalling." He releases me as he pushes me away.

"I was building anticipation."

"Your glow was dull tonight. Make sure you're brighter tomorrow." He ushers me to follow him like every night.

"To do that, I need sunlight." And not just twenty minutes. I need a rejuvenating few hours.

"I don't have time to set you out in the sun tomorrow."

"Then I can't guarantee a showier performance." I cross my arms over my chest and cock out a hip, daring him to defy my need.

"I'm sure you'll figure out something. Come on."

"Please. I need the sun." My voice warbles and I swallow, hoping it helps keep me strong.

"Fine, I'll see if I can get someone to let you out on your leash in the morning." He waves me in front of him. I'm not ready to be sent to bed yet, but I can't risk his wrath when he agreed to get me sun tomorrow.

Tonight I follow without a fuss. Tonight I plan.

My nest of blankets and pillows suffocates me. Of course I can't sleep. Because why sleep when I can scheme? I push to sit against the wall and knuckle roll the luck coin as I think.

The biggest problem is I can't run alone. I have to take Ava with me or come back for her. Both are risky, but I can not leave her with Drake. I know she's been with him longer than I have, but he treats her like dirt. Just because she doesn't have the body of a model, he forces her to be a maid. I've tried helping her with her duties, but then we both get in trouble, so she insists I just watch and let her work. We're the only two bound to Drake, so I don't feel the need to help free the dancers or servers from their contracts with him. They're allowed to come and go of their own free will.

"A Tuesday will be the easiest. Drake is never here on Tuesdays. Thursday is another good bet. He's out in the mornings."

I continue rolling the coin between my fingers, faster and faster. "But how will I get out?" I sigh and drop my head back on the wall. My hand falls to my lap and I look at the coin. "Any suggestions?" A laugh rumbles from me because now I'm talking to a coin.

The raven face shimmers and I squeeze my eyes shut. I have to be making this up. When I open my eyes, the raven's gone and etched in its spot are words.

Tuesday, be ready.

"Ready? When? How?"

Trust me. You'll know when.

Just because it's a luck coin doesn't mean it's good luck. The coin could be leading me into a trap. It is Fae, after all, and we're notorious for being tricksy.

TRUST ME!

"Okay, okay. I'll trust you."

The coin face turns to a smile.

I don't know that I should trust the coin, but right now, a little bit of luck and hope is all I have.