Simon did a facepalm.
“Does he speak for you now?” Adam was hurt. I saw it in his eyes, but my guilt disintegrated with the tone of his voice. His language was a given, as I couldn’t imagine being in the service with Knox all those years and not having that kind of camaraderie, but I was exhausted from being on the defense.
I raised my hand. “Adam, please don’t do this. Not here.”
He thrust himself back in the chair and scraped his fingers through locks of brown hair, looking like an explosive ready to detonate.
The manner in which Logan watched him was alarming. His nostrils twitched as he pulled in a scent, and he stepped forward.
“Don’t turn this into a fight, Mr. Cross. Remember why we’re here.”
Logan looked at me unapologetically. “I have given my warning and if he interrupts you again, I will knock him to the ground. Please, continue.”
“No one speaks for me, Adam. I make my own decisions, and I think it’s clear that I haven’t made any kind of decision tonight, except maybe to drink this wine to the bottom.”
Logan tucked his hands in his pockets and lowered his voice. “Perhaps he would like to challenge me to court you.”
Adam lowered his eyes to the floor like heavy weights.
I wasn’t sure what a challenge among Chitah entailed, but I had a feeling it didn’t involve arm-wrestling. Adam backed down, and I was a little disappointed. He was willing to lay down his life for my freedom, but unwilling to declare his feelings for me. It didn’t make sense. Yet, the more I thought about it, the more it did. It left me with a few questions that I decided to keep to myself, because I never did understand why he was so willing to become a Mage.
No challenge was made. Justus spoke privately with Remi, and for the rest of the evening, we discussed everything that happened on our trip.
Well, almost everything.
***
During the drive, I caught Justus looking at me sideways as we sped through another intersection. He never worried about things like police radar, because an experienced Mage could project the right kind of energy to disable it.
He was apprehensive about letting me go, but trusted the word of a Chitah. Juicers were an epidemic, and I was the equivalent of an energy drink. His concern was justified, but I needed to reclaim my independence and start making choices for myself.
“You look nice,” he said, as a headlight splashed across the interior.
“Give yourself a pat on the back; you bought it. I really wish you didn’t keep filling my closet. I’m never going to be able to pay you back.”
“I would not take payment for something that is my duty.”
That’s what I liked about Justus; he would never admit that he enjoyed shopping for me. At first, I thought I wasn’t up to snuff and he was trying to change me. As it turns out, it was the only way he knew how to express his affection. Wearing one of his dresses was the equivalent of a hug.
Tonight we rode in the Mercedes, his second favorite to the Aston Martin. It was classy, stylish, and in mint condition. We rolled to a stop in front of a fire hydrant outside of Logan’s condo. It was nestled in a charming neighborhood with bright yellow lampposts near the sidewalk and small patches of grass.
“Stay out of trouble,” he said, as I got out of the car.
Impossible.
Once the car was out of sight, I spun on my heel and hurried up the street.
I discovered Nero’s name, but I was not permitted to be involved with the HALO investigation any further. I got the sense that Simon ran into a roadblock with finding reliable information on where he resided. On one visit, Simon got up to use the restroom and left his laptop open. I snooped through his files and found a few notes on Nero—including rumored hangouts. The one that stood out was a club called Hell; that sounded exactly like the kind of place Nero would frequent. Justus became preoccupied with another case, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Maybe immortals felt like they had all the time in the world to get things done, but I was still on human time. I wasn’t about to let that man become irrelevant.
My heels tapped against the dirty pavement of a narrow sidewalk. When I finally glanced up, a glowing pitchfork marked the building I was looking for.
Cue the mental eye roll
. The club didn’t advertise their name. They didn’t need to.
I approached Hell with second thoughts; I suppose everyone does. The doorman held up the wall with his back as he scanned the crowd indifferently. His spiked collar made him look like a junkyard dog. The line was nothing but leather, latex, and leashes. Weak energy told me they were all human. They didn’t have a chance in hell at getting into a Breed club.
The doorman’s eyes lapped me up like a thirsty dog would a bowl of water on a hot summer day. He was a Mage, so I flared and gave him my best sultry smile. He chuckled and rubbed a meaty chin.
“They’re going to
love
you, sweets.”
When the door swung open, my throat went dry. The heat was the first thing that struck me. The second was a man being whipped as bystanders watched. The rest of the club was as ordinary as they come. I didn’t see any disturbing scenes like the one in front that set the tone for what type of place this really was. Black tables scattered across a blood red floor, and a pale blue light bounced off the glasses behind the bar. I ordered a vodka neat and scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long before a few persistent men approached me. I didn’t look anything like the other women in there, and it was drawing the wrong kind of crowd.
When I was ready to give up, a thick man in wide leather pants and a black jacket approached me. He sized me up and asked, “First timer? I’m Eli. I work here. What are you here for, and how can we pleasure you?”
I anchored my eyebrows. “An old acquaintance recommended this place; he gave it rave reviews, so I decided to check it out for myself.”
Eli was a meaty guy who looked like he could bench press a horse. Hell, the man looked like he ate them for breakfast.
“Back to my question: how can we pleasure you? Or is that your pleasure—being punished for disobedience?”
Was this guy serious?
A man walked by and offered a handful of colorful lollipops. I waved him off and he approached a few others who took one and went back to conversations.
“You should be polite and take what’s offered,” Eli said with a laugh. “It’s one of the only things you’ll get in this club for free.”
“I’m here for a few drinks,” I said, lifting my glass. “Just going to hang back and watch.”
“No one told me that!” I was starting to get the full, horrific picture.
He laughed so hard that his eyes were brimming with tears. “I have to know the name of your friend who left out the only rule this club has.”
“Nero.”
Eli snapped out of his laugh and appraised me. “Yes, that sounds like Nero. Sick little bastard.”
“You know him?”
“He’s a regular.”
“Is he here tonight?” I scanned the crowd as Eli played with the chain hanging from his nipples. I wished I had brought Simon; he would have known how to behave.
“Unh-unh. Should I tell him that you’re looking for him?”
“No, don’t bother.”
Please god, don’t bother.
Eli grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the seat. I fought as he towed me down a long hallway, but he was too big. A burst of my energy wouldn’t do me any good against a Mage, not to mention that giving out samples of my Unique light would be foolish.
“Let me go!” I struggled, but he didn’t slow down. No one helped. I bumped into a Vampire who laughed, and leaned in with mild curiosity.
“Oooh, someone’s in trouble!” a tiny voice giggled. I glared at the pixie-sized girl with the short, white hair as Eli tossed me through an open door at the end of the hall and slammed it shut.
“Why are you asking about Nero?”
My eyes roamed across the wall of chains, wrist cuffs, and a wide assortment of whips. It was time for me to grow some balls. “I’m looking for information.”
“What position do you have in the Mageri? We don’t want trouble here.”
“None. This is personal.”
He scratched his chin. “Mmm, that makes it interesting, doesn’t it?” he murmured. Eli reached behind his back and slid the lock into place. “What kind of information? Perhaps I can help. I’m not partnered with that sonofabitch.”
“Do you know if he’s keeping any other Mage against their will?”
He tapped a finger against his pants. “You don’t look like the sort of girl who's ever visited one of these places before. Ever heard of the bartering system?” Eli pulled a leather whip from the wall and cracked the narrow spray of tails against his pants.
I jumped in my skin but kept my composure.
“Tit for tat. No one leaves this club without participating; that’s the rule. I could leave you to some of the twisted men out there,” he thumbed, “but I’m willing to trade information for a little fun. I’m curious to know exactly how many questions you can take.”
“I’d rather not,” I said, moving around him.
He held out his arm, but I didn’t get a sense that he was dangerous. Eli was just… persistent.
“This is your last chance; walk out that door and I won’t speak to you again about Nero. I can see you want answers. We both know you aren’t leaving here without feeling this whip on your back.”
“How do I know you have the answers I need?”
He ran a hand down his perspiring chest. “I used to work for him.”
I thought about it. It’s not as if I was a human—I could heal myself in the morning. “Fine,” I said reluctantly.
“Remove your shirt.” Eli smirked and held up two fingers. “We’ll keep this trade professional. Scouts honor.”
Breed clubs were not just a place of recreation, but business. Deals were made and services rendered. Currency was never as valuable as other arrangements. This was the big girl world, and I had to make a decision that could put me in a better position.
All I could think of was Justus telling me to stay out of trouble. Maybe if I knew what kind of club this was, I might have backed out. I doubted Eli was going to hit me that hard—he looked a little sympathetic in the eyes. I removed my shirt and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Turn around and put your hands on the desk.”
I placed my hands on the wood as the tassels tapped against his leathers. Eli flipped my ponytail over my shoulder. “Ask your question.”
“Does Nero work for anyone?”
“No.”
I hissed as the leather cracked against my skin and cut through flesh. I thought he would go easy on the first question, but I could tell he was going to make this as shockingly painful as possible. He placed his warm hand flat on my back.
Fuck him and his one word answers.
“Forget it,” I said, grabbing my shirt and putting it back on. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t care enough about answers to have someone degrade me like this.”
He swirled the whip in his hand.
“Hold up, hold up,” he said, raising a hand to stop me from leaving. “There’s another way we can do this.”
I glared at the wall. “Sorry, I’m not into chains either. We made a deal, and I’ve participated.”
He pulled in a deep breath, releasing it with frustration. “I’m a Sensor.”
I blanched. “You’re a
what
?” Nine million curse words flew through my head. I made a poor assumption that he was a Mage because he knew that’s what I was.
Sensor’s had the ability to retain emotions and collect them like pet rocks. Any experience could be sold for the right price. According to Simon, most desired sexual exchanges through a Sensor—either one of their own, or someone else’s. I didn’t know much about their power, except they were also highly sensitive in a room where strong emotions occurred and often worked with investigators. This little evening was going into his collector’s box for the highest bidder.