I shuddered. As if.
But Brienne clearly can’t believe that I’d turn down the extra credits I’d earn by going back to the hotel room of a crowd of visiting businessmen – or, even more conveniently, taking them back to the VIP room here at Spur’s. There, they could be milked out of a fortune for bottles of fancy liquors… but it would be in return for the promise of more than just a private dance.
I’ll never go into that room. I’ll never give up my morals for easy money.
But none of the other girls believe that. They think I’m pretending to be better than they are. Brienne, especially, seems to take offence; as if my refusal to sell my body is a personal slight against her.
I look up at the dark-haired beauty, and promise: “Brienne – I swear. I don’t do any ‘extra’ credit work.”
Brienne stares me down. It probably wouldn’t be hard to stand up to her – I’ve had a hard-knock life, and know how to handle myself – but I know that adding additional conflict to the already simmering cauldron of this workplace wouldn’t be worth it.
It’s frustrating, though. I know with one punch I could knock that stern look off her face. When you grow up as a dirt-poor orphan, you learn to scrap – especially when creepy men see you as an easy target.
Brienne, at least, seems satisfied by my meek response.
“Good,” she warned. “You better not – or we’re going to have a problem.”
You better get out of my face, I think to myself, or you’re going to be the one with a problem… A dental problem, bitch!
It would be so satisfying to say those words, but I’m not going to get into a fight over nothing.
“I only dance,” I reassure Brienne. “I’ve never done anything more, and I never will.”
Satisfied, Brienne turns – just as the door to the changeroom slams open and Obbit barges his way in.
Some of the girls shriek, but for the likes of Brienne and I, this is old news. We’ve never had any privacy from this Toad. Only the newer girls try to cover themselves up. The rest of just leave ourselves bare, letting Obbit leer at us in resigned silence.
I feel Obbit’s eyes fall on me.
“Allie,” he gurgles, his lips wobbling and spraying spittle. I instantly drop my gaze, trying to look obedient and submissive.
Shame burns me as I do so – because I’m no wuss. I just know when to avoid a battle. If Obbit knew I could handle myself in a fight, he’d stop underestimating me. You have to keep your advantages hidden – especially when you have so few of them.
Keep them hidden until you need them.
“Allie,” Obbit repeats, and I nod:
“Yes, Obbit?”
“You’re doing extra credit work in the pleasure room,” the Toad gurgles. “Now! Get those heels back on.” The Toad lumbers forward and warns: “Don’t even think of saying fucking no – not if you want to keep your job. This is an order – coming down straight from Spur.”
Extra credit work?
A knot tightens in my belly. No!
He means the same ‘extra credit’ that Brienne submits to in the VIP rooms… or that I’d walked in on Jenny performing for that disgusting bastard.
The same ‘extra credit work’ that I swore I’d never do.
2
Daccia
I demanded: “Do you sell your women?”
I was asking the question because of her – the woman I’d just seen dancing on stage. She’d been exquisite. I’d felt my cock surge the moment I saw her gyrate those ripe curves up on that stage. I could tell that she wasn’t there in her mind – only in her body. She’d dialed out, going through the motions. She was clearly a woman just trying to survive – just trying to keep her freedom.
Her name was Allie – and while she was dancing to keep her freedom, I was here to take that freedom away from her.
Allie had lied. She’d stolen. As beautiful as she was, that human female deserved to rot in a prison cell…
…but my body betrays me.
The owner of this club, Spur, cocks his head to one side and gives me a shrewd look. He’s got five men behind him. They’re silent – there to mirror the two other Aurelians of my triad, and give him some sense of confidence.
It’s laughable. We Aurelians could cut through Spur’s thugs without breaking a sweat.
My two battle brothers are Kitos and Hadrian – my silent shadows. I’ve trusted them in a hundred battles, and the only worry I have is the thin thread of lust that lurks deep within their minds. I feel it too. There was something about that woman that triggered a deep, instinctual desire inside of us.
“We need to call this mission off,” telepaths Kitos. “She may be our mate.”
Kitos is the smartest of the three of us, and I trust his advice. More than that – I feel it too.
It’s not a certainty – in fact, there’s only a one in a billion chance that this woman could actually be our mate – but all three of us felt it. Felt something.
The suspicion that she could be what all Aurelians spend their lives searching for: Their Fated Mate.
Of course, most likely, she’s just learned how to seduce Aurelians…
…but there’s always a chance, however astronomical.
I take a deep breath.
“We’re one more capture off a promotion,” I telepath back. “We have to take her in.”
The owner, Spur, taps his desk.
“Selling women is illegal,” he warns – a twinkle in his eye.
Of course, Spur isn’t being serious. He’s just trying to drive up the price – and cover his ass. We’re posing as Rogue Aurelians, but the man isn’t dumb. He knows slavery is strictly forbidden in the Empire, and even discussing the subject with any Aurelians – Rogue or not – carries risk attached to it…
But this man is
