He stares at me for a few beats, and I realize he wants me to say something, but I’m fucking lost. I should’ve known as soon as I put on this uniform that this was not a straight-laced “security” job. That ad was probably chock-full of code words for this underground sex ring crap he’s talking about.
“We understand your hesitancy,” Iceman offers, mistaking my silence for caution. “The times being what they are, we all go out warded all the time, but we swear on The Morning Star’s wings that anything said between us will stay between us.”
I stare at him, not sure how the hell to respond to anything he just said.
“Yeah, you don’t have to worry,” Crux says, before giving me a warm smile and tapping his palm to his chest. “I’m a Trēs Ring, and so is Echo. Jerif is a Duo, and Rafferty is an Ūnus.”
Crux gives me an encouraging head nod, clearly communicating that it’s my turn to kiss and tell, only, I didn’t get the yummy kiss first. Instead, I got a shit ton more confused. I’m fairly certain he just said something about Iceman—whose real name is apparently Rafferty—and his anus.
Fuck.
I definitely answered a sex ad.
I let out a deep sigh and shake my head. “I knew this was too good to be true. It was a sex ad, wasn’t it?” I demand, slapping my hands on my leather-clad knees. “This is some kind of roleplay fetish, right?” I groan. “Fuck, I should’ve seen that coming. I mean, look how you tried to dress me.” I look around the room, realization dawning on me. “Is your big party some kinky cosplay thing? Or some freaky Eyes Wide Shut kind of action?” I ask, shaking my head. “If Tom Cruise is here, it’s a hard pass. Seriously, that dude freaks me out.”
The four men gape at me without replying. My eyes scan over each of my bosses, but I’m not buying the shock and confusion they’re all wearing on their faces. Next, they’ll be declaring that they’ve never done this before, and for just one night they can make it worth my while.
Unfortunately, that thought makes my vagina clench, and a zing of interest shoots right to my clit. I mean, fucking any one of these dudes—or all of them—wouldn’t be a hardship by any stretch of the imagination, but then what? I sign on to be some sex slave? Either that, or I have to walk away from all my big plans that crucially involve making good money, and that’s a hard pill to swallow.
Now, this might be where a smarter person would get up and hightail it out of here, but...I’m weirdly intrigued. And broke. Like, really broke. So broke I can’t even pay attention. Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten my itch scratched. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing?
After a few more seconds of stunned silence, Crux suddenly starts laughing, making Jerif and Iceman shoot him disapproving looks. “She’s cagey as fuck, but at least she’s entertaining,” he announces between fits of laughter.
“There will be no cages!” I bark out, and that just makes him laugh even harder.
Echo cracks a smile and brings a hand up to his mouth to cover it while Jerif just stands there shaking his head and looking annoyed.
“My money is on Ūnus,” Jerif states evenly before leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers like some bad Mr. Burns impression. I wait for him to say excellent, but it doesn’t come.
I’m on the verge of shouting out no butt stuff, but I’m into that when the circumstances are right, so that feels dishonest. Besides, I’m not going to announce what I will and won’t do before we negotiate the money side of things. I guess that answers the am I really going to do this question that I was pretending to debate about. I hit rock bottom so damn fast.
“Definitely,” Echo agrees. “I mean, the scythe alone screams I am Ūnus, hear me roar. Bunch of arrogant pricks.”
“Hey,” Iceman and I object at the same time, but my, “Don’t knock it until you try it,” seems to leave everyone looking even more confused. So much for keeping my cards close to the vest.
“This is not a sexual proposition,” Iceman-Rafferty declares incredulously.
“Speak for yourself, Raf, I’ve been hard since she Xena-screamed her way into the mausoleum,” Echo announces as he overtly adjusts himself.
Do not look at his crotch, Delta. Do. Not. Look. At. His. Crotch.
Iceman shoots him a glare that screams shut the fuck up, but Echo just winks at him and shoots him an air kiss.
“I don’t know...” Crux declares, his head tilted and his green eyes studying me carefully. “She could be a Nihil.” Suddenly, the bickering murmur and teasing comes to a complete stop, and everyone turns to Crux. “She looks human and can see through wards—”
“So can you,” Jerif interrupts, “and you’re only a Trēs.”
“Yeah, but who else can activate a scythe?” Crux counters. “I mean, think about it, when was the last time you even saw a demon, other than a Grim, carrying one?”
My bosses seem to consider this ridiculous question, and each of their weighted gazes land on me. I’m too fucking busy tossing words like looks human and demon around in my mind and trying to figure out how they make sense in the context of any kind of rational conversation, but they don’t. I’m so lost in this discussion I couldn’t even find my way out with a map.
“Demon?” I ask, thoroughly confused. “You mean you want me to dress up as a demon for the costume sex party?”
The four of them exchange a look until Iceman glances back at me with a frown. “Miss Gates, there is no costume sex party—
“Yet,” Echo interrupts.
Iceman shoots him another look and then continues. “Wait...you do know about demons...right?”
Now it’s
