Chapter 2

TWO

Somethingabout last night almost made me expect him to show up again tonight. But Margot let me know he confirmed his usual reservation… which means I definitely won't be getting another surprise visit.

I've never seen D that unsettled before. It makes me feel jumpy.

But there's one sure-fire way to get rid of that nervous energy.

And that's to do my job.

I picked three slots from the line up on the stage availability board. There are a lot of girls who don't like the main stage, preferring the tiny stages in the various levels' small public areas, or even private dances only.

Too many eyes, too much attention. What pricks at other women's nerves is what I love. It turns them all into a sea of indistinguishable observers. I don't care about the many. The more the merrier.

Snapping on the last of the light rings—the fun little Sian tech that makes it so I set the monetary threshold and the "clothes" come off on their own as soon as I've been paid. I get to put all my focus and energy into the dance.

"Margot is marketing the absolute hell out of this surprise dance," Hannah says, coming in to brush edible glitter over her cleavage.

"It's not a surprise. It's been on the schedule for hours."

"Sure, but how often do you dance three times in one night?" She blows me a kiss before reapplying her makeup and adjusting her fake-emerald-crusted bra. "It leaves them wondering what other habits you might break tonight."

"None. They should know that by now."

"I'm sorry I'm going to miss it." She says, not looking sorry at all. "Hazard's on his way."

"I could have guessed."

Hannah has perfected her professional smile. You could have told her her mother had broken her hip and it wouldn't falter, but when she talks about Hazard… that one's real.

And she's wearing it right now.

It's not uncommon for the women who work here to have favorites, but Margot usually cuts things off before they get to where Hannah and Hazard are.

It's not my job to tell her how to do hers. And if the little things Hannah has let slip about her bondmate are true…

I shake that away. Hannah knows Margot and I will help if she needs it. I can't ask anymore.

There are a hundred different ways to get onto the main stage. Coming up from below or sliding down from the platform hidden in the top of the dome are fun and eye-catching, and there's numerous other acrobatic ways, but I picked a song that doesn't allow for that, a dance that starts slow and will probably confuse more than a few of them before the beat drops and the tempo hits.

Applause, whistling, and shouts echo across the room as the woman's voice filters through the speakers, and then their voices die away when I take hold of the pole.

I've heard men talk about that pole as if it's an analog for their cocks, and I have to laugh as I turn around it, the metal spinning with my hand.

We'd all be dead.

I've done this routine a hundred times… but not for a few years. Most of them have never seen it before, but they all get excited when I start to climb.

The higher up I am, the more animated they get.

I listen for the timing cues, waiting for the piano in the recording to flutter one last time…

The beat drops. So do I.

There's movement and sound from beneath me, but I've only fallen a few feet before I catch myself, swinging into the next position.

The thump of the bass is a heartbeat that centers me. It pulls me into the moment and lets everything else fall away.

The music and dull murmurs are the only thing I hear. The fluctuating spectrum of light is the only thing I see.

They watch me, wanting all the things I won't give, but they don't know I'm not dancing for them. I never dance for them anymore.

Every time I step on this stage, my mind is with D, wherever he is.

I know he's not in the crowd tonight, but a small part of me hopes he snuck away.

Every twist and turn of this dance, every move I make is a part of the fantasies that swirl around that man whose real name I don't even know.

The audience loves what I do for him. Around me, neon holograms of dollar signs burst against the faint, smokey haze. Those digital tips tick higher and higher, thrown at me by hopeful men, both young and old.

I don't even notice when the first layer of ring-controlled "clothing" bursts away, or the second, or the third…

When the music ends, delicious exhaustion weighs down my bones and I spin on the pole for a few moments until the stage opens up and I drop, letting it swallow me whole.

That move is met by gasps and sounds of disappointment, but part of the reason they like me is because they can't have me.

It's why they come back.

It's why they spend the money they do.

They want to be the one I choose… but they're too late.

Margot is waiting when I pull myself from the soft cushions placed perfectly for that kind of an exit.

She offers me real clothes, instead of the digital ones and my robe. "Three dances in one night, and one from the first year you worked here. What's going on?"

If anyone else had asked me that, I would have blown them off, deflected… done something, anything other than tell them the truth, but this is Margot.

I'm still here because of Margot.

We came to this planet on the same transport almost fifteen years ago. We've been here longer than almost anyone else.

Margot knows everything that's happened. She's the one who helped me pick up the pieces and find myself again.

She's the only person I tell everything to.

"Last night was weird. He wasn't supposed to be here. D's never broken his schedule without warning. And he didn't sleep. Something was wrong, but he didn't want to tell me what it was."

Her mouth scrunches, neon orange lipstick emphasizing her scowl. "I don't know what happened, but I can find out. I wouldn't worry about that too much. His job is…" she trails off because I've told her not to tell me.

And maybe I shouldn't worry, but saying it out loud…

"I think breaking the routine has jarred some things loose, or made them more noticeable, maybe."

"Do you want to get to the meat and potatoes of whatever's going on in your pretty head, or am I going to have to call someone in to cover my place at the bar?"

"I like him."

Margot stares at me for a moment and then she laughs, twisting her fingers in my long ponytail. "Well, I should hope so!"

"No, I mean…" I shake my head because I don't know how to explain, I just know, "I should probably stop seeing him."

Saying it feels like I've just flushed my veins with ice water, like my skin doesn't belong to me anymore. And I can't look up at her. I don't want to know how she's looking at me.

"Is that what you want?" she asks, softly.

"No."

"Then why do you think you should stop when you don't want to?"

"I dream about him."

Margot wraps her arm around my waist and drops her head to my shoulder. "No one is asking you to bond again, Kimba. You know I would never push you into that. I just want you to be happy and he does that."

Her voice wavers as she says it and I know if I looked, I'd see too much sparkle in her eyes as she fought back the tears. Because she remembers the woman I was after Edan died better than I do.

And that's why I trusted her when she said she wasn't setting me up with D as a matchmaker in the first place.

It's why I know that if I tell her I never want to see him again, she'll make sure I never do.

But I don't want that.

Even if I should.

We walk back to the main lounge for the women who work here. It's furthest away from the private rooms and it's not meant for quick changes. This is where you set up for your shift, where you tear down.

I'm surprised to see Hannah sitting in the enormous velvet chair she loves—it matches that emerald bra she's still wearing.

"What happened to Hazard?" I ask, because her professional smile is back in place.

"False alarm. Problems at work he couldn't get away from."

This time, she doesn't try to disguise her frown.

In this place, we can just be ourselves. We don't have to be anyone to anyone.

Hannah holds up the tablet in her hand, shaking it at me, and the flexible surface wobbles. "Luthiel is asking about you again. He offered to pay triple your normal rate, to ‘just have dinner and talk.'"

"You don't have to worry about that." Margot leads me to a sofa and then sits in the chair opposite before she smooths her nail polish. "I told him you weren't available this week. He's going to ask for a private dance next week. He hasn't yet, but I've learned his patterns."

"You can tell him the answer is no, indefinitely." Luthiel is one of the patrons who likes to march straight up to the edge of the rules and show just how well he can walk a tightrope.

He's probably kept track of every cent he's tipped me in a little ledger to claim some kind of ownership over my body.

I could ask Margot. I know she has those figures and statistics. I just receive a per-dance breakdown.

Stretching out my back, I remind myself that Sian men aren't like human men… not like that. Rejecting Luthiel doesn't fill me with anything like the ugly feeling that had taken over me when I told my high school boyfriend "no" for the first time.

"I'll tell him that he's been banned from requesting you and if he puts in another, he'll get a penalty. Most of them are better at taking the hint."

The three of us stay there, running through the week's schedule, and I listen as they compare stories about the weird interactions they've had, or been witness to, in the past week.

Earlier tonight, a man had come in for his first visit to the club as a member. "And you know me," Hannah winks at me, "I love first timers."

Margot leans over. "She did not love this one."

"Oh no." There are so many ways it could go wrong.

"Oh no is right, but also, probably not the kind of ‘oh no' you're thinking." Hannah chuckles and takes a drink of her pale purple lemonade. "He was more nervous than I've ever seen anyone before, and that probably should have been a warning."

"Did he bolt?" I ask.

"Nope. He stayed put and the second I touched him, he puked."

"What?"

"All over me." She waves her hand over her chest and stomach.

Hannah is laughing now, but I would not have been.

"I told him it happens all the time, got him cleaned up, switched rooms, and then sent Anna Maria to him. He had a hard time looking at me after that. I didn't think it would be a good time for him if I stuck around." She chuckles again. "I let him down easy."

Margot pulls a folding tablet from the pocket on her thigh and lets it fall open. I watch the lights shift on her face and I know she's in the security feeds.

All the rooms have cameras. It's a safety precaution.

And I see when she gets to the footage she's looking for. "Oh," she says, brows high, and then, "Oh no."

Hannah giggles into her drink. "He's already reserved another room next week, with a request for Anna Maria, so I don't think he had a bad time in the end."

"Speaking of bad times, I know neither of you saw it, but that last dance caused an injury." Margot looks at me with a sidelong glance as she closes the tablet and puts it away. "That first drop no one was expecting? Two men lurched from their chairs—I assume to rescue you—and another fell out of his and bashed his head on one of the tables."

"I'd say I was sorry, but you know I love giving them a good jolt." I smile as I wander to my locker and grab out my water bottle, taking a long drink.

"Do you think it's a universal constant that men get flustered simply by looking at a pretty woman?" Hannah asks.

"Do you remember the guy…" I can't remember his name, or the rhyming nickname the girls had given him. "I want to say it was two years ago by now. He saw Sherry dance once and then begged her to take him home with her… like he was some sort of pet."

Margot snorts. "I remember her bondmate coming in that night and the guy suddenly had a change of heart."

"Self preservation is a stronger force than lust." Hannah says.

Margot nods. "I set him up with Carrie. She's good at pet play and I think he wound up putting that in his special requests for his Agency application."

Hannah chuckles. "He's not a member anymore, so he must have found who he was looking for."

"He did. She's a sweet woman too."

"Do you remember everyone who's been a member here?" Hannah asks, turning in her chair so she's half upside down.

"Just the fun ones like him, or the weird or bad ones."

I listen as they bandy those stories back and forth, but I can't stop myself from yawning.

Hannah and Margot are almost fully nocturnal at this point… I'm not.

"I think I'm going to go home and try to go to sleep."

"Probably a good idea." Hannah stands, stretching and picking up her empty glass. "I'm going to go see if anybody's lonely."

She pauses and drops a kiss to my forehead before she goes.

"Let me know you got home safe, okay?" Margot squeezes my shoulder. "I've got to get back up there to make sure they're all on their best behavior."

As if anyone would jeopardize their membership.

My end-of-night routine takes about twenty minutes to complete.

Extensions: out.

Makeup: off.

Clothes: changed.

Bag: packed.

After one last look in the mirror, I head for the door.

There's a private elevator for employees and a separate parking lot that has enough security.

None of us have to worry about walking out alone in the middle of the night.

I don't even look around before walking straight to my car.

I don't need to.

And when I've crossed the city and pulled into the garage that spirals down beneath the high rise I live in… I don't check that I'm alone before I get out of the car either.

I shouldn't need to.

The garage has a passcode entry. There are cameras everywhere…

I don't see them until it's too late.

They were waiting for me.

Surrounding me as they step out from behind my neighbors' parked cars, they move in a way that's mechanical, almost like it's rehearsed.

The unspoken ceremony of the action scares me more than the fact they've ambushed me.

Eight of them surround me… keeping their distance.

Seven of them look bored.

The last man is the only one who isn't perfectly aligned in their little circle. He's the only one who looks like he wants to be here.

He takes a step forward, a smirk on his lips. "Hello Nadine."

Thatmakes my heart stutter and my skin go cold.

No onehas called me that for years. It's not who I am anymore.

"We've been waiting to talk to you for hours. Your work schedule is highly inconvenient."

The absurdity of that knocks some of my flee-freeze reflex loose.

"It's easier to find me at the club," I say, glancing at the cameras and seeing no lights indicating they're operating.

"And we both know I wouldn't get within twenty feet of you there."

Which means he tried. "Stalking is a crime on this planet too—"

He laughs and I take an involuntary step back.

"Crimes are funny things, aren't they? Punishments are subjective… the right person could even get away with murder."

I swallow back the ugly slither of a memory. "What do you want?"

"I want to hire you."

I know he doesn't mean for a dance or the night, but still, I say, "You'll have to go through Margot for that."

He laughs again and I already hate the sound of it. "I don't want to sleep with you. Pretty as you are, I have a better use for you."

I almost tell him no, outright, but there are still eight of them and only one of me…

"How much did you make tonight?" he asks.

I give him the ballpark number because I want to be done with this as fast as possible.

He looks at the man beside him. "Triple that, and give me a yearly?"

The man spits out a ridiculously large number.

"How does that sound?" The man doing all the talking asks.

"It sounds like a lot of money."

"It's yours, plus a seat on a ship back to Earth."

I don't want the money, and I've never wanted to go back to Earth. But a ticket back to Earth is impossible, rumors say it's worth more money than I'd earn in a lifetime.

What could be worth that? "What is it, exactly, that you expect me to do?"

"You have an appointment tomorrow night. Keep it."

D.

This is about him.

"Next time Drift comes in… you're going to inject him with this."

It's the first time I've heard D's real name, but the syringe in the man's hand captures my attention and I can't focus on anything else.

"No," I shake my head.

"Would you prefer a blade? The familiarity of the weapon might help, but it's harder to clean up."

"I'm not killing anyone."

"This isn't a request." His smile seems to slide off of his mouth. "You do it and get paid, or… you'll deal with the consequences. And believe me, you don't want to suffer through that."

I don't tell him I've already suffered through the worst thing I can imagine.

He can probably imagine far worse.

"Your life has been full of choices, hasn't it? This is the most important choice you'll ever make. Choose wisely and you'll step off that ship and return to the loving arms of your family. Choose poorly…"

The syringe in his hand catches the light and he holds it up and out to me again.

I take it. What other choice do I have?

"Good girl." The smile he gives me now is smaller… softer. It sends a shiver down my spine.

My stomach writhes with coils of dread.

"I have a feeling it will be a pleasure to do business with you." He bows in the old-fashioned way men from this province do sometimes and turns.

The others file past me and I stay perfectly still as they crowd into a car that was built for nine.

I don't move until after I've heard the tires screech on the final corner and hit the metal plate that leads out of the garage exit.

Then, my panic finally catches up to me and I run.

I'm starting to feel like a junky.

I went a full day without seeing her and now my skin itches. Pulling into the parking lot, some of that tension eases, but I know it won't go away until I see her.

The elevator entrance to Margot's makes no concessions for my eyes. The ride is a riot of color and I have to pinch my lids tightly closed, even while wearing the opaque glasses that block out ninety-nine percent of that light.

Getting through the main room of the club is always the worst part though. When I step out of the elevator and into the room I can see without having to see it, light slips through in the slots at the periphery of the glasses.

I scan the space through those and the night's guests as well as the woman on the stage assault my vision—but only half as much as they would if I looked at them head on.

I catch grumbles of discontent from the crowded bar.

She didn't dance tonight.

She wasn't scheduled to dance tonight.

That's not like her.

I ignore the chatter from those who think she owes them her time, especially the ones who ignore the other women trying to distract them.

The rules at Margot's are strict, and she's already letting me bend one. If I break someone's face, I'm out of here.

"Hey there, bright eyes." Margot says, her voice syrupy sweet. "She thought she'd change things up tonight. Second floor, look for the door without any markings."

Something is definitely off.

She's never changed rooms before. But the way Margot says it… she's not going to let me ask any questions.

"I'm sure I'll find it."

"I'm sure you will." She glances to either side before leaning close. "If she gets hurt, I don't care about our connection, I will find my way up that mountain and I will destroy everything you love."

I don't know what connection she's referencing, but I do know where her logic is flawed. "If she gets hurt, everything I love will already be destroyed."

With a curt nod, she leaves me and I watch her go, wondering… but there's no point in tracking her down to ask. Kimba should have all the answers I need.

I pause before I push through to the public room and study the man who's been watching me since I arrived.

His face is turned toward the stage, but he's definitely following my movements.

There's another one at the bar…

On any other night, I'd turn around and go find out what the fuck they want, but that itch has turned to a burn that courses across my shoulders.

I need to see Kimba. I need to know she's safe.

I've never been to the second floor before. Most of the levels have vaguely connected themes or uses for the rooms. And I have no idea what this floor holds.

When I step out into it, the place is deserted.

And as I walk the ring-like hall, dread seeps into my skin.

Margot didn't need to tell me which room to go to. Every door on this level is ringed in red, save for one.

Like a green halo, the available room shines a little brighter. It hurts a little more. But inside, the room is completely dark. Not even the lights that line the floor are on this time.

I don't need them.

Slipping off my glasses, the room shifts and outlines form in gray lines.

Kimba waits for me on the bed… fully clothed.

Her shoulders are hunched and even though I know she can't see it, her eyes are locked on the syringe in her hand.

A syringe that provides a glow so faint, no one with normal eyes could tell.

"What's wrong, Kimba?"

She looks up and her eyes meet mine. She can see their glow.

"Someone asked me to kill you." She holds the syringe up to me in the flat of her palm. "Or maybe they just want me to sedate you so they can do it themselves. I don't know."

Her hand trembles.

I'd thought I'd seen every emotion painted on Kimba's face, but this is new. This is panic.

And thank the saints she's not afraid of me.

But I don't want to see her like that. I need to distract her. If I can make her laugh…

"I didn't realize murder required street clothes."

It doesn't work.

That fear is replaced with frustration.

"Do you think this is funny? Someone wants you dead."

She's scared, and I'm being an asshole.

"I'm sorry." Dropping to my knees in front of her, I push her hair back from her face.

She leans into my hand, her eyes closed, her brows knit, and I want to kiss her, so badly.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you wear shoes."

"When they find out I haven't done it… I think I'm going to have to run."

"I'll carry you if it comes to that."

She shoots me a skeptical look and then takes a deep breath as she shakes her head, mumbling, "You could certainly manage it."

I could be half dead and I'd find a way to get her out of harm's way.

"They called you Drift."

"That's my name."

"Who are you and why do they want you dead?"

She could have asked Margot.

"There are a few reasons they might… but I can't guess which it is until I know who they are."

"I can't help with that." Her voice is shaky, like she's mad at herself and I want to strangle whoever taught her to feel like any part of this situation is her fault.

"Let's turn the lights up, okay?"

She nods and I go to the panel beside the door, punching it to the minimum level that she can actually see me, and my eyes shift back to what most would call "normal" vision.

"You're a part of the brotherhood, aren't you?" She looks up at me, eyes so clear, they look molten.

"Yes."

"I'd hoped it was that." She winces as if she hadn't meant to say it. "There are only two ways I can think of that would get you those scars. I didn't want to believe you could be… well, the kind of person who ambushes a woman in her garage and hands her a syringe full of poison."

I pluck that syringe from her hand. I should keep it for testing, but I don't trust it enough to hang onto it long enough for that. Margot's has an incinerator, and every room has a chute for biohazard waste that can't go down a drain. This room is unfamiliar to me, but the oddity in the wall's density will make it darker. Scanning the room, I find it half-hidden in the vanity.

I throw it away before either of us can think too hard about what might have happened if she used it.

"Why do they want you dead, D?"

I turn back to her, searching her face as I lean against the textured wallpaper. "Would you be willing to put this off until we get someplace safer?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not going anywhere until I have more information."

Closing my eyes, I drop my head back against the wall and search for any other option… "Best guess?"

She doesn't say a thing, but she's waiting.

"There are some, as you know, who don't want you here." Some hate them, some think we deserve to go extinct, the reasons are numerous.

"What does a group of extremists want with you?"

"Say you want to paint humans as dangerous… Say you've found out that the head of the group that guards against the monsters has a human woman who is not bonded to him, that has ready access to him. What sort of picture can you paint if she kills him?"

She snorts and I agree. It sounds ridiculous.

"That humans are conspiring to hurt you all?" Kimba shakes her head, a scowl twisting her unpainted lips. "One instance isn't going to be enough."

"No, but it's a start, and a high-profile one." I don't like how conceited that makes me sound, but… "And you're famous. They probably thought you'd be easy enough to convince. Did they threaten you? Or offer to pay you?"

"Little bit of both." She grimaces as if the admission is a foul taste in her mouth.

"Tell me."

"It was a ‘your life or mine' offer… and they'd send me back to Earth." She smiles ruefully and looks at the ceiling. "But we both know they weren't going to let me leave. I assumed they planned to kill me once I'd done what they wanted, but if what you say is true, they'd probably have found a way to put me on display, make an example of me."

"And they'd pull your past out to add to your sins."

She flinches and for the first time, that concern writ on her face is actually directed at me.

"Did they blackmail you with it?"

"Not in so many words. Was that your plan eventually?"

"I've known who you are—who you were—from the beginning. There's nothing to hold against you. And if I was that person, it would have already happened."

She nods and glances at the door. "I know."

I can't tell her the real sentence she'd face. Isia has one single prison, and they'd never send a human woman there. They'd have to come up with something new.

"They probably have people watching the exits," she says.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that." I scowl at the door too, but I wipe it from my face before I turn back to her.

"You said you wanted to take me somewhere safer… where?" She wrings her hands. "I can't go home. That's where they approached me. And I've already checked, the security systems went offline when they were there and the building management can't explain it, which means they can't stop it from happening again."

And I have no intention of letting her go anywhere alone. "Unless you can promise me you have somewhere that's safer… do you have a coat?"

Her brows pinch together, and then clear, almost immediately. "You want to take me home with you."

"Margot can keep you safer than the security at your home, but people come in and out of here in a constant flow. My outpost is designed to keep monsters out. It can handle mere men." I've put her in this position—somehow—and I have to get her out of it.

She's watching me, as if unsure of what to say, then, "Is this the part where you say ‘come with me if you want to live'?"

"If you tell me you won't come with me, I will find another way."

But she takes my hand when I hold it out to her and she lets me draw her to her feet.

I brush my thumb along the line of her jaw. "I will do anything to keep you safe."

"And there's nowhere that would be safer than with you." She says it with a sadness that squeezes at my heart.

"We should go. They probably already know something's gone wrong with their plan."

She nods and lets me go to the door first.

"I need you to stay behind me, and stay close. If they want to do what you didn't for them, they'll only be able to get to one of us before security takes them down."

"Not that way." She grabs my arm as soon as I head for the elevator. "Margot shut off access to the floor as soon as you got down here. They have people up there, waiting."

"I saw them." And part of me wants to deal with this problem head on, but if she gets hurt because of it… Get her home, and then deal with these bastards.

I let her lead the way, because I trust her and I trust Margot. But I don't let her go through any of the doors first.

"Where did you park?"

"Against the building, close to the employee lot." I'll never tell her, but I always waited for her to leave first after the nights I spent here.

I never followed her home. I just needed to know that she was okay after I left her.

"Good, that'll make this easier." She grabs a bag stashed by the next door and looks up at me. "I assume you want to take your car… they probably have a tracker on mine by now. In case I went to the CSS or something."

Continental security wouldn't do much for her. With no proof, they'd be more likely to detain her for whatever was in that vial.

"What's in the bag?"

"The things I can't live without."

I won't fit in her bag, but I want to be included on that list.

"This elevator goes directly to the employee lot and the lights will cut out. Margot will tell anyone who notices that it was a fuse issue."

Nodding, I take her hand and pull her behind me again.

"I won't be able to see, so I'm not going to let go of your hand until we're at your car."

"I understand." I slip my neural link on and trigger the prestart program on the car.

We get into the empty lift—so peaceful compared to the one I came in on—and descend.

"The lights are going to go off as soon as we reach the ground floor."

And they do.

Everything is exactly the way she said it would be. Except letting go of me when we get to my car.

I pop it open as soon as it's in sight and scoop her up, tossing her bag into the passenger seat and holding her close to my chest as I back out, the roof snapping closed a moment before we pull out of the lot.

There are shadows behind us, but I don't know if they belong to random bystanders or the men who tried to use her as a weapon.

She thought our escape through. "You were thorough."

"I didn't want you to die."

"Do you miss it?" I ask as I turn the car onto the long straight that leads away from the city, toward the mountains.

If not for the current situation, I wouldn't have mentioned it.

"Do I miss planning escape routes and extraction missions?" She asks, a bitter note in her words. "No. Not even a little bit."

Because that's who she was. Not who she is.

"Hopefully, you never have to do it again."

Some might think she was the perfect mate for me because of what she'd done on Earth. But that's not why she came here. And that's not what I would ever ask of her.

I want to give her everything she desires. And painful memories don't fit into that.