The door flew open, and a young woman who looked like candy floss darted toward them. Torun was on guard, but the woman ran toward his companion and slammed into her. “Zera! Oh, gods. I was so worried! I heard you were in the blast; I came right away.”
Zera stood nearly a head taller than her friend. “Susara, manners. This is Torun. Torun, this is my best friend, Susara.”
He blinked as he recognized the bright blue eyes of the researcher in this woman. Of course, it wasn’t done to ask about family.
“Zera, was it?”
She nodded.
“May I get your number? I may have questions about the events that need answering.”
She grinned. “I have given you everything. I am sure you will be fine.”
Susara was between them, and she chirped out the digits. “She turns folks down constantly, but she does it so sweetly. Don’t worry about it. Unless you try and get violent, there is always a second chance.” Susara laughed. “And folks call me Suit Bait. I think Zera’s issue is just that she avoids the teams like the plague.”
Torun had looked at Zera and the woman he wanted cleared her throat. “I am certain you are very busy, sir.”
The downward flick of her eyes, the honorific, they were all things he wanted from her, needed from her. He swallowed as he nodded, and they left him on his own. Outside of the shop, Susara held her hands up, and Zera slammed her hands to her friend’s above both their heads. The similarity in the name, the feel of her touch, seventeen years later, she was eighteen years old when she had been four, to begin with. He didn’t know what was going on here, but the researcher who had been pregnant might have the answers.
He looked down at the woman in his lap. The researcher—Susara’s mother—had died, and there were no answers on that front.
Zera rolled toward him and put her hand on his chest. “Don’t worry about it. I will explain it next week.”
“Why next week?”
She huffed. “Susara’s funeral. Next week Thursday.”
“How do you know?”
“I scheduled it.”
“She’s not even dead yet.”
She opened her eyes slowly, and they glittered. “She will be.”
Chapter Eight
She was tucked in on her couch and still wearing her wrap dress from the day before. She got up, stumbled down the hall to the bathroom before grabbing some scrubs and going to the showers.
Zera washed and put on some loose scrubs that she used when in training with some of her combat toys. It was always better to dress in something that didn’t provide resistance when using energy weapons if you wanted to know what they would do when they hit a body. She pulled on some ballet slippers that she kept in her desk and fired up her large computer, starting shopping.
She ordered the basics—dresses for work, underwear, shoes, toiletries, and haircare items. With her schedule, trousers were going to be out of the question. A few skirt suits and blouses were also on the list. She ordered her funeral clothing, and her stomach rumbled. She was going to have to go up and get a meal unless...
A knock at her door brought her head up with a grin. Alya held up the bag and coffee cup. “Here you go. Sorry about your home.”
“It continues an absolutely sucky week. Thank you. You are my hero.” She grinned and batted her lashes.
“Can I have a seat?”
“Sure.”
“So, I am getting my interview with Blind Date.”
“Congratulations.”
Alya looked at her. “Can I just do it now, management?”
Zera sighed. “Six years of obscurity, and in one week, everybody knows my business.”
“I ran through your financials. It took a while, but I used the security-breaking programs in the financial department, and I found your work data.”
Zera ate the muffin, swallowing before she said, “Okay, but lock the door. The assessment is hands-on.”
“What?”
“I have to test your reflexes. Every escort has gone through it.”
Alya got up and locked the door, clicking the obscuring field.
Zera finished her muffin, drank the coffee, and got to her feet. “First, the questions. What is your ideal relationship?”
Alya blinked. “Um, an equitable mix of partnerships. Love, lust, and making dinner together.”
“I noticed you don’t say monogamy.”
“It isn’t really... I mean, if there was a set of partners...”
Zera looked at her, analyzing her responses. “You have been in a poly situation?”
“Once. I didn’t fit. It was a couple who invited me in, and it didn’t feel right.”
“How would you feel being invited into a team scenario? A lot of the time, they are using you as a surrogate for the one they can’t have in their own team. You would need to understand that.”
Zera made some notes. Her computer was watching Alya’s bio signs and recording everything. “Do you prefer a specific gender?”
“Um, male?”
“Normal. Do you have an objection to tentacles?”
Alya’s eyes went wide. “I might tense up the first time, but as long as the person in question is not abusive, I should be fine.”
Zera nodded and made a note.
“Now, I am going to show you images of different actives, and I just want you to watch.”
“Should I pick my preferences?”
“You can, but it doesn’t matter. You will go where you are assigned, or you will be dropped from the roster. No match made will be forced, but the selection process will assure you that the persons involved will meet your parameters. Even group events will all come from those who are authorized compatible. Your clients will have to adhere to those regulations, or they get struck from the books.”
“Group events?”
“Where there are multiple team members and multiple escorts.”
“Oh. So, you?”
“Maybe. Maybe others. It is up to the patron. Keep looking at the images.” Zera flicked a key, and the projections of the actives lost some clothing. Some were missing tops, some bottoms, and a few were fully naked.
“Do
