by Lissa Kasey
Preston and Royce were the only other male companions in the house besides Candy and Aki. They would be downstairs entertaining already, along with almost twenty female companions. If Aki hadn’t had a special request to entertain a senator, he’d be there himself, pouring tea and alcohol, serving tables, flirting, and taking offers for the evening. But he and Candy had helped with a special event, giving them a reasonable amount of pay and a late start to the evening. They both had to change out of scanty waiter uniforms—black ties, short shorts, and no shirt—since the senator in question liked them to pretend to actually be waitstaff while servicing the guests in other ways than food.
“The new shadow is good. Makes your eyes pop,” Candy remarked while he pasted several small gems above Aki’s eyelids, just below the brow. Heavy liner and bright opalescent shadow emphasized the almond shape and unusual color. The diamond-like gems matched the iridescent sweater and pearl-colored skirt. Aki glanced in the mirror one last time to touch his hair before slipping into a pair of heels that added four inches of height. “You really shine tonight, Aki.”
“Gotta. It’s Friday. Money to be made.” Shoes to buy. “Didn’t Preston mention some government thing happening nearby today?” The Hidden Gem would fill with rich old men looking for a pretty thing to fawn over him, fill his glass with expensive alcohol, and make his friends jealous by flirting shamelessly. It wasn’t the only brothel in the area, but it was one of the highest rank. Conservatives called it vile, citing ancient passages of texts that were no longer acknowledged in the North, and when that didn’t work, they began the familiar wail of infidel. That was mostly because of Aki. Though most of the North worshiped the earth as their goddess, an occasional few showed up with the old ways ingrained in their heads. “Maybe I’ll clear the room when I walk in.” It happened sometimes, no matter how he sparkled.
“Their loss, sweetie.” Candy added some pink liner to his eyes and gelled up his bright purple hair. He looked like the confection he was named for always bright colors, hearts and stars drawn on his face and arms. His blush dusted his face in glitter that looked like sugar, and pale pastel clothes made everyone think sweet, cute, and barely legal, which he was. He even wore contacts over his pale brown eyes that made them look purple or bright blue, depending on the light. “They’re only afraid ’cause they’ve never seen a real psi before. I could stare into those pretty eyes of yours all night.”
Aki’s eyes were ice blue, the pupil only three shades darker. The unmistakable sign of a psi.
Candy handed him a pair of silk elbow-length gloves. While Aki’s skirt might have been short enough to be obscene and bending over revealed he wore nothing underneath, touching wasn’t allowed unless he invited it. Mostly he did the touching, they did the commanding, and he performed. Not a glamorous life to be sure, but better than the containment camps or immediate death he would have gotten in the South. At least the gloves kept him from seeing all the horrible things the clients thought or had done in the past. Aki’s eyes announced to everyone what he was, but there were thousands of different types of psis. Every psi was treated like they had a deadly disease, though it wasn’t something that could be contracted any way other than birth. Being a psi was a genetic mutation, passed down through family lines just like blond hair or blue eyes.
He sighed to himself, frowning at the thought of the pale pupils in his eyes. Was it odd to think they were pretty, that the normal black was so bland? Candy grinned at him, obviously not bothered. Candy wore super-short shorts and a tank top to show off his androgynous frame. The denim cutoffs had frayed holes artfully placed to offer glimpses of the tiny briefs he wore featuring cartoon characters or bright candy-colored designs. It was his trademark as much as Aki’s was being the “shining” star of the evening.
Aki slipped on the cool fabric of the gloves, loving their inlayed glitter, and headed for the door. Enough primping, there were clients to be entertained and dollar signs to add up. Just Shoes had a new pair of heels on display that had been calling his name for a week. Sure, Bart would probably buy them for him if he begged, but Aki liked owning something he paid for himself. Bart would complain and add it to his contract, which would take him four lifetimes to pay off if he kept buying shoes that way. After all, Aki did have more shoes than most of the companions of the Hidden Gem combined.
Candy followed Aki down the hall and to the stairs that lead them into the main dining hall. The entire building had been renovated some twenty years ago to look like a Victorian mansion, grand staircase, flowered wallpaper, polished wood floors, marbled columns, and all. The room buzzed with energy as companions wove through the heavy mahogany tables filled with clients, flirting, serving, and smiling at all the money waiting to be earned. Bart Rothnow, their boss, stood at the bottom of the stairs watching the room with that hawk-like gaze of his. He glanced up and smiled as Candy and Aki joined him.
“Detective McNaughton is here, Aki. With a friend. They’ve requested you.” Bart looked the part of an English butler all regal in his black tux and silver-fox hair. The cut of the suit hid strong shoulders and the lithe body of a former soldier. Aki had seen the man take down men twice his size with little effort. He might have been the owner of the Gem, but he was serious about keeping his companions safe. Bart flicked his eyes to the left where the detective and another man Aki didn’t recognize sat at a small booth. “If he gets rough, call.”
Aki nodded and took a deep breath before heading to the table. Detective McNaughton was tall, dark, and Irish. His face all angles, hair heavy and dark brown, five o’clock shadow coarse like sandpaper, he looked like he could have come out of an old storybook with men in kilts. He stood as Aki approached, reaching his full height of six five, which made Aki’s five eight in heels look tiny. The detective leaned down to plant a kiss in Aki’s hair, careful not to touch skin. “You truly sparkle tonight. The rarest of diamonds couldn’t compete, Aki.”
“Words like honey, McNaughton,” Aki teased. The man could lure anyone to his bed, but he liked to play rough. Blood and pain made him hot, which was likely why he was the most successful detective in the city. While everyone else was puking, he was getting excited and looking for clues to find another madman like himself. He was one step away from being a serial killer, Preston joked. Not really humorous in Aki’s opinion. McNaughton never called on any male at the Gem other than Aki, though his gaze did rove over Candy a time or two. His reputation had been built on rumors, nothing that Aki could ever pin down. Everyone saw him on the vid screen taking credit for solving some horrible murder or finding a person alive who had been thought dead. Aki knew his favorite alcohol and that the man preferred a blow job to any other kind of sex for sale, but that was all he knew for fact about the man. That and the man had a smile only an angel could compete with.
The other man stood, polite like most men weren’t in a brothel. Compared to McNaughton, he was on the lean side, but still over six feet and broad in the shoulder, long in the leg. Where the Irishman was built like a tank, dark and solid, the new man looked more like a runner, strong and lithe, but not the house that his friend was.
McNaughton put a possessive arm around Aki and pulled him close. “Taylor, this is the young man I’ve been telling you about. Misaki Itou, the Hidden Gem’s sparkling jewel. Aki, this is my new partner Detective Jackson Taylor.”
The man offered his hand until he glanced up, meeting Aki’s eyes. Immediately the hand fell. He glanced away, uncomfortable, perhaps worried. Aki sighed. He should have been used to that reaction by now. Sad since the man was nice to look at with light, honey brown eyes, his brown hair styled. He had lovely lips, plump and thick with no surrounding stubble—a man who cared about his looks, or at least more than most nonpoliticians did. Aki would have liked to have seen the man’s pleasure just once, but knowing McNaughton, Detective Taylor wouldn’t be around long. The Irishman went through partners almost as fast as Aki did.
The younger detective sat, and McNaughton return
ed to his side of the table, pulling Aki into his lap, breath hot in his ear. Aki adjusted his skirt and crossed his legs as to not flash anyone. The men would have to pay for that.
“Have the two of you ordered already?”
They had drinks, both fairly fresh, but Royce had been trying to catch McNaughton’s attention for ages. Unfortunately for Royce, he was more on the boyish side of pretty, and when the detective sought out others, it was usually Jade or Tiffany, real girls with real working girl parts.
“We ordered food. I was hoping you’d be free after dinner for a bit of private time with us.” McNaughton played with the material of Aki’s sweater. He didn’t share well, had in fact caused more than one fight when someone tried to get in the way of his time with Aki, so the man implying that he would be servicing both of them seemed odd, and the question must have shown on his face. “Work related.”
The detective hadn’t been around in almost a month, so the hard-on pressing into Aki’s thigh made sense. Did he have anyone in his life besides coworkers and paid whores? Probably not. He seemed sort of a rough man who didn’t play well with others and made work his life. Since he hadn’t been around much, he was likely working on a case. If Aki paid more attention to the news, he might know, but if the Irishman needed him for something more than a blow job, the shit had hit the fan.
“I’d be honored to be of service.”
McNaughton’s smile lit up his face, dimples and all. He was one of the most handsome men Aki had ever seen, hard edges included. Detective Taylor must not have seen the smile before, because he appeared stunned. It still knocked Aki off his feet every time he saw that grin aimed his way. Rare as it was, Aki would do just about anything to see it again. He had even allowed the man to kiss him, skin to skin, lips to lips. Bad idea, as it was dangerous to touch anyone without the shield of clothing. The violence, blood, and rage inside McNaughton’s head still made Aki shudder in fear. The detective had shrugged it off and never attempted another true kiss.
Yeah, the man was beautiful. A beautiful monster. Aki eased out of his lap. “Let me see about your dinner, then, so we can get on to the rest of this evening’s services. I’ll send Bart over to negotiate terms.” He bowed his head, careful to keep his skirt in check. He’d likely have to go another round with Bart about how short they were. Brothel or not, Aki couldn’t imagine all the bare parts made things more sanitary for those who ate here, though there had never been any complaints about the food or the company.
Aki made his way to the kitchen, checking on orders and greeting some of his regulars who wanted to introduce him to their friends. His job was to smile, look pretty, and be obtainable arm candy. Sometimes the clients got into bidding wars, fighting over a particularly desirable companion. Since Aki never provided more than a few minutes of entertainment, he’d never had the chance to up his prices that way. Men would mull over dessert or fine wine waiting until he finished with one guest and could move on to the next. He couldn’t really complain since he was the highest-paid whore at the Gem who never had to bend over. Newbies tried to haggle over the cost of a hand job or the more expensive blow job, but those men never got to Aki. Bart usually threw them out or handed them off to Preston or Royce, who were less experienced.
“Order’s up for your cop friends, Aki,” Candy whispered as he passed with a bottle of the most expensive wine in the house. His table was very grabby tonight, so Bart hovered nearby watching and waiting. The handful of security guards that lined the walls made themselves almost invisible until someone stepped over the lines of propriety. Manny, head of security, opened the door to the kitchen for Aki.
“When you take the detective upstairs, call me. I will wait outside the door.”
Aki threw him a grateful smile as he picked up the tray of food. “Of course. Thank you.”
By the time the evening began to wane and most of the other companions were on their fourth or fifth guest, Aki was finally following the detectives up to a private room. They’d argued for a time, sending him away from their table, even giving Aki time to entertain a few of his regulars. If they didn’t get moving, he’d be demanding more compensation for wasted time. Those shoes weren’t going to be obtainable with the night’s meager earnings.
Manny followed them up the stairs, looking like the guard dog he was. Bigger width-wise than McNaughton, not pretty at all since his face was pocked and scarred from years of hard living, Manny was still a good man and very protective of all the companions. He never touched, not like some of the other guards often tried to. They all learned fast enough that being on duty didn’t mean they got freebies.
Inside one of the smaller guest suites, Detective Taylor went right to the sitting table, taking a chair and setting a briefcase down on the empty top. McNaughton shut the door—there was no lock—but didn’t let go of the tight grip he had on Aki’s arm. Aki knew better than to make a sound of protest. Some men got off on causing others pain, and while Aki didn’t know the detective well enough to make that call for him, he’d glimpsed the aggression the man hid inside his own head. Aki liked being held firm, but he had no desire for pain at any level.
“So tell me how I can help,” Aki prompted, hoping they’d just get on with it so he could get back to the real paying work. McNaughton tipped well, but only after being serviced in the traditional manner.
“You look nice tonight, Aki.” McNaughton’s leer wasn’t completely sober anymore. He’d had a half dozen beers, nothing heavier like the whiskey he usually drank. Aki figured that to mean he took being on duty seriously, but that whatever this case was, it wasn’t good.
“Thank you.” A polite response since Aki had already been complimented a dozen times. “How can I be of service?”
McNaughton’s free hand went to his belt.
“Shane!” Detective Taylor called. “I agreed to all this because you said he could help with the case. If you’re just here to fuck, then I’m leaving.”
“He won’t let anyone fuck him.” McNaughton sighed and let Aki go to take the other chair at the table. “Get over here, Aki. But don’t think I won’t have you before I leave tonight.”
“Of course.” Aki stepped up to the table as Taylor began to pull files out of his briefcase, thick manila folders filled with white pages and pictures. That was never a positive sign. “How can I help, Detective Taylor?”
“Just call me Jack.” He didn’t look at Aki when he spoke.
“It’s not contagious, Jack,” Aki assured him.
“Hmm?”
“My psi ability. You won’t catch it by breathing the same air as I do or even by daring to touch me. I promise. I do, however, need to get back to work and earn my living. I don’t get paid to look pretty, as much as it might feel that way sometimes.”
“I’m not here to fuck you. I don’t pay for those sorts of things.” He spit out the words as though it were the vilest thing in the world to think about.
“As Detective McNaughton stated, no one gets to.” Aki lifted his gloved hands. “Skin contact is hard to minimize during intercourse. I don’t want to see what’s in your head or past any more than you probably want me to. However, many do pay for their pleasure. It’s a legitimate way to earn a living.”
Jack paused, finally turning to look at Aki. “You’re clairvoyant? Post-cognitive?”
“Isn’t that why you’ve come to ask for my help? I can’t imagine how my fellatio abilities could benefit your case, though I’m assured that I’m quite skilled. Second best in all of City M, the first of which is no longer working in the pleasure industry, but since he trained me, I’ll still let him have the number-one title.” Psis weren’t often differentiated by their abilities, though the ones considered dangerous vanished shortly after coming into their powers in their teens, likely culled for some future war, trained to be some sort of weapon. Aki had simply been thrown out onto the streets to fend for himself until being caught and dragged into a psis concentration camp. Working at the Hidden Gem was certai
nly a step up.
Detective Taylor, Jack, glared at the pile he’d just made of files, then began glancing through some of them and setting them aside. “How sensitive?”
Aki blinked at him, trying to understand the question while McNaughton continued to stare at him with a hard-to-read expression on his face. Was he looking forward to this? Was something in those files going to cause pain and he would watch Aki suffer like it was some sort of porn flick? The man was so hard to read. Did he really come here for help? Or did he just need release? Aki saw him more often for the latter, but hoped that some of the prior helped the man somehow. There had to be more in his head than violence, right? Otherwise he wouldn’t be a cop.
Usually McNaughton brought cases of missing persons who were more likely to be alive. A kidnapped kid, a missing business executive, that sort of thing. All had more brutal crimes involved, but nothing he usually brought to Aki was directly that dark. Except that one that still gave Aki nightmares. He frowned at the stack on the table. The thicker they were, the worse they were. Stacks of reports and pictures meant dead bodies.
“How sensitive a clairvoyant? Just sensations, or do you get full video and audio?” Jack persisted.
“Oh. Head switch,” Aki replied, finally understanding the question. When he got a vision, he was no longer himself, he became them.
“Damn.” Jack shook his head and began shoving the files back in his briefcase. “Forget it, McNaughton. This stuff will kill him.”
“It’s okay. I have money.” McNaughton pulled several wads of cash out of his coat. “The senator gave me access to a lot of cash. Aki likes money. He’ll endure a lot to buy more pretty shoes. And we have one that should still be alive.”
That made Aki sound so shallow, but he did really like shoes and there wasn’t much else in his life to spend his money on since Bart provided a roof, food, healthcare, and clothing. It would be years before he had enough to buy out his contract, if he even wanted to. Life was pretty good at the Gem.
