Twist

by Dannika Dark

  “I was ready to walk out of there,” I said, “but when he offered to pluck an emotion, it seemed like a harmless trade. I never knew places like that existed. I thought it was just something in the movies.”

  “Exactly what kind of movies have you been watching?”

  “I need help with clothes—appropriate clothes—so I can blend in. Do you catch my drift? I looked too much like Bo Peep having a beer at the bar, and apparently there are a lot of men with a Bo Peep fetish.”

  “That is a definite yes.”

  I frowned at his enthusiasm.

  “You behave like you do in this game, Silver, thinking without planning. You could really get hurt.”

  I tapped the pawn. “This is what I feel like all the time, Simon. But this,” I said, touching the king, “is what I want to be. Important.”

  Simon smirked. “Life is punctuated by moments, not station or title. Sometimes the little guy has the best move. The king may be important, but he’s always on the run and needing protection. Soldiers are strong because they make smart decisions and work as a team. Justus protects you like a King, but his intention is to make you a soldier.”

  “If you tell me there’s no ‘I in team’, I’m going to shove this rook up your nose.”

  “Tell the Chitah that I’ll be the third wheel. If they cuff his paws to the wall, then you’ll be on your own without a backup. Think ahead to avoid traps. Sometimes you have too much moxie for your own good.”

  “The club rule is that you have to participate. Are you sure you really want to do this?”

  “That’s my condition, love. Take it or leave it.” He moved the pawn up a space. “Checkmate.”

  “You win.”

  ***

  The next Friday, I went to visit my favorite Englishman for game night. Justus groaned when I bragged about our plans for an all-night Godzilla marathon, but I knew he was glad to be rid of me. He liked to go out and get his freak on, whether he’d admit it or not. Every man has needs, and his were never satisfied when I tagged along. Maybe I was a little mean to the women, but it irritated me that he didn’t have standards.

  Simon became my shopping guru, taking me to the only store in Cognito that would color my cheeks crimson. By the fifth outfit, I caught on to Simon’s little game. He dressed me in scandalous outfits—knowing I wouldn’t approve—just so he could file the image in his “mental picture drawer” for later recall. Cheeky bastard.

  We rode down the elevator to meet Logan outside. The leather pants made a sound when I rubbed my sweaty palms over them.

  “Stop fussing. You need to look comfortable, like you always wear leather.”

  “Easy for you to say, this is just another night on the town for you. I feel like I should be saying trick or treat.”

  “I’ll take the treat, although I never did turn down a trick.”

  “Always have a comeback,” I said, imitating Justus.

  “I learned from the master,” he pointed out. “Remember, leather wants to be worn; it craves the feel of your body, so be sure to treat it nice and it will put on a good show.”

  “Yes, but was the thong necessary? No one is going to see that,” I grumbled.

  Simon winked. “All or nothing, love.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Helen of Troy may have had a face that launched a thousand ships, but you have the body that will launch a thousand—”

  I clamped my hand over his mouth.

  The pants were tight, low-rise, and paired with a shirt that was an open invitation in the back. I tinted my lips whore red, and the boots had three inches of lift. Simon wagged his tongue when I emerged from the bathroom, and doused me in cheap perfume. If my mother got a glimpse of me, she would have made advanced reservations to roll over in her grave when her time came.

  The elevator door popped open and a few heads turned. An old woman holding her Chihuahua clucked her tongue when she saw us.

  “Good evening, Miss Behave.”

  She wrinkled her nose as the little dog bared its teeth. “It’s Beatrice Havers, and that’s Miss Havers to you, young man.”

  Simon shot her a sexy wink. She turned up her nose and gave a disgusted sigh, but I could see a twinkle behind her eyes that told me she adored the attention.

  “Simon, you are so rude,” I whispered.

  “She loves it,” he assured me. “Every woman should remember that they were once naughty little vixens. I’ve seen a picture of her back in the day; she was a hot little number.”

  “I didn’t know you went for the cougars.” I made small kisses in the air.

  “Jealous?”

  I laughed. “Absolutely.”

  Simon pinched my hip as we strutted through the lobby like a couple of punk rock sex kittens. We were a spectacle, and I laughed when I noticed his dimple. He was proud of his little Frankenstein.

  “Geez, Louise!” Logan said, eating me up with his eyes.

  “Not one word.”

  Between the two of us, I wasn’t sure whose outfit was more shocking. Logan wore matching leather pants that fell even lower than mine, showing off the V-cut of his abdomen. He also wasn’t wearing a shirt. My eyes returned the gesture, appreciating every line of his svelte body. His normally soft locks were tangled, hanging in small clumps that were thick and unkempt.

  Logan towered over me with the confidence of a king. Except tonight, I was a little bit nearer to his face in my heels. A buzz of nervous energy rippled through my fingertips for just a moment.

  “Soak it in; take your mental snapshot, but let’s go,” I said, waving a hand.

  He caught my wrist and I looked up at him. “You look lovely in anything, but I don’t like the perfume.”

  “Simon picked it out. What’s wrong with it?”

  He twisted a lock of my hair between his fingers and held it under his nose. “It’s too strong. I can’t pick up your scent.”

  “Oh, so that’s it,” I said, shaking my head. “You can’t enjoy my heavenly smell?”

  “That’s not it.” There was a sharp edge to his tone. “I don’t like that it will take me longer to track you.”

  Logan was uneasy, and I stroked his arm reassuringly. “Let’s go, Mr. Cross.”

  I jumped into the backseat and Logan flicked a glance at me. He expected me to claim the seat beside him, which Simon happily took. I needed to mentally prepare myself for the possibility of seeing Nero. After my pitiful confrontation with Brandon, a fear was sprouting inside of me that I might freeze up again.

  The car pulled to a stop outside of the club and the engine shut off.

  Logan turned around and put a strong hand on my knee. “I won’t let anything happen to you, female.”

  I’m not sure why, but that comforted me. “Eli is our backup plan if Nero doesn’t show. I don’t want you stalking after him in the bar.”

  “She’s right,” Simon agreed. “We don’t want to spook our lead. We may end up using him, but let’s stick to the plan. Nero won’t have his goons around since Hell is his playground. Silver will fish him out, and I’ll move in. He should know that we’re aware of who he is and what he’s doing; I want him on his toes. Men who think they’re being watched make mistakes.”

  We waded through an anxious crowd inside the sticky, hot club. People stood shoulder to shoulder.

  I jumped when I heard the crack of a whip. Logan tightened his grip on my hand and led me down the hall. Someone reached out to touch me, and Logan pinned him against the wall in a heartbeat. He turned and nodded at me to go without him.

  A girl in a red halter top snatched Simon by the collar and dazzled him with her showy lips. He lingered in the hall, and I moved on to the bar alone.

  Breed bars differed from human ones. The magic was a heavy molasses in the air—charged with energy from those who were different—like me. It’s dizzying the first time you experience it, but after a while, it feels natural. A man with long brown hair streaked with blond strolled by, holding a handful of c
olorful lollipops. I recognized him from my last visit and he smiled, handing me a bright red one. I swiveled around in my chair, tore off the wrapper, and popped it in my mouth.

  Excitement poured through me. Did everything always have to be about Nero? I needed to cut loose, dance, and let my hair down. What I really wanted was to just follow him home and find out where he lives. Maybe I could break into his house. I leaned forward excitedly, thinking up harebrained schemes.

  “Bartender, bring me the whole pitcher!” I shouted, twirling the candy in my mouth.

  “You’re sure to be the hit tonight,” Simon remarked. He leaned in with a low whisper. “Stay visible and don’t go wandering off. I’ll move in and take over the conversation.”

  “You just do that.” I played with his earlobe and he slapped my hand away. “Simon, you’re such a prude. The girl wearing scotch tape for a blouse almost mounted you in the hall, but you would rather babysit me. I’m so tired of people watching me like a child.” I wrinkled my nose.

  “Maybe if you quit acting…”

  His eyes narrowed on the white stick poking out of my mouth.

  “Bloody hell!” Simon exclaimed, pulling the sucker out. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to take candy from strangers?”

  My lips were numb and tingly. “What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal,” he said, twirling it between two fingers, “is that it’s been spiked by a Sensor.”

  “Well he can spike me anytime.”

  Simon grabbed my jaw, squishing my cheeks as he wiped a napkin over my tongue.

  “It’s called a sampler because they imprint some of their magic on it to heighten your emotions. It’s how the Sensors give you a taste of their wares. Stay away from the vodka. I don’t need you knackered to boot.”

  He stuck out his tongue and swirled the sweet candy over it. “Looks like this one got rid of your inhibitions; it’s a good thing you didn’t suck on that all night.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” I said, laughing so hard I couldn’t even make any noise. God, what was wrong with me?

  “Don’t leave the room, and try not to dance on the sodding bar.”

  Simon bit into the candy, dropped the stick on the bar, and slipped away. The bartender set a frosty glass of beer in front of me and I swallowed a mouthful, leaving a lip stain on the rim of the glass. Bodies moved beneath flickering strobe lights on the dance floor as a techno beat was steadily thumping. Would I be able to sneak Sunny into a Breed bar? Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. She would love the action and strong personalities, but they might eat her alive. I hated the prejudices that existed against humans.

  “Well, well, aren’t you dressed for the occasion?”

  Eli slid a finger down my bare back. “I love the view; such a little tease. Come back for twenty questions?”

  “Not on the agenda, Mr. Nipple Chain.”

  “Shame,” he said. “But if you change your mind, holler. I’ll come.” The way he said the last bit made me squirm. Eli moved away with a nod and disappeared.

  An hour stretched by, and the effects of the candy diminished. I heard enough lines that would have made a prostitute blush, but under the influence of candy, I handled them like a pro.

  A crowd filtered out from purgatory. Logan towered over them by several inches and was white as a ghost. Whatever he saw down there must have been dark, and I watched him vanish towards the back of the room. Simon was conversing with a woman who had her fingers locked in his belt loop. Although talking didn’t seem like an appropriate word—not the way his thumb was stroking her leather top. When I looked back, a figure emerged from the hollow of the doorway—one I knew all too well.

  Nero wore a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. He always did that right before stealing my light, and it was the first damn thing I noticed. I squeezed the glass with an urge to throw it at him. He looked exactly as I remembered: round glasses, dusty brown hair, crooked mouth, and a narrow nose. Nothing special about him—nothing memorable.

  He crossed the room and took a seat at the far end of the bar, lifting a napkin to dab the sweat from his brow.

  I catapulted out of the chair, becoming a passenger in my own body. I wasn’t supposed to engage in conversation, but the next thing I knew, I was floating over to the stool beside him.

  A sultry woman in a short skirt had a man pinned to the wall, pressing a spiked wrist cuff into his neck. Nero glued his eyes to the scene.

  “Remember me?” I interrupted.

  He turned and that lazy smile dissolved when he got past my outfit and recognition sank in. His cheeks pinkened.

  “You’re not as bright as you think you are,” I scowled.

  A little vein protruded from his forehead. “What are you doing here?”

  “Having a drink.”

  “Don’t play with me, you stupid little thing.”

  “I’ll do… whatever… I want.” I stared with a venomous gaze. “You thought it would be so easy to steal me away, but it backfired in your face. You’ll never have me, Nero.”

  I said his name loud, and with purpose.

  Nero snatched my hand and splintering shards of pain touched my fingers.

  In a flash of movement, his head slammed against the bar. Simon crushed his forearm against the back of his neck, and I yanked my hand free.

  “Well look what we have here. Think you’re a sly one, do you? Nero, I have heard so—much—about you.”

  The pause between words was a pinch of his arm against Nero’s neck. When he finally let go, Nero flung his arm out and grimaced. Simon leaned against the bar creating a wall between us. Even with Simon in the middle, Nero could hardly remove his eyes from me. I guess it was like a turkey walking into your house on Thanksgiving. He had what he wanted right within his reach, but he couldn’t take it.

  “Did you miss our sessions together?” Nero instigated. “Hell has special rooms for that if you’re feeling nostalgic.”

  Simon slapped him. I’d never really seen a man slap another man, and he wasn’t holding back.

  “Let’s be gentlemen shall we? We know what you’re up to, Nero. An open investigation exists with your name on it, and HALO has watch on your little charade. If you’re smart, you’ll back down, but something tells me you’re not.”

  “You can’t prove a thing.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Simon grinned.

  “Do you think I’m trembling with fear because HALO is watching?” he laughed. “Nothing but a group of misfits who pat themselves on the back for putting important men in jail. All they’re doing is divulging secrets that should remain among their own kind, and playing God.”

  Simon looked over his shoulder. “Silver, I need you to leave us.”

  “The hell I’m leaving!”

  Nero laughed. “That one doesn’t know her place.”

  Simon’s eyes narrowed on mine as Nero continued.

  “If you want to know how to remedy that, just say the word. It doesn’t take much for that one to submit.”

  In a flash, Simon threw his arm out and grabbed Nero by the throat, but he never broke eye contact with me. He jerked his head, motioning for me to leave.

  I hopped off the chair and faded into an empty corner. Breed establishments had rules against fighting. If you created disorder, you risked banishment. Simon might end up on that naughty list—not that I cared if he hung out in a place like this—but it wasn’t wise to limit your options when they could benefit you in business dealings.

  “Nero won’t give you what you want.”

  Eli leaned against the dingy wall in the same unappealing outfit he wore the week before.

  “What would that be?”

  I stared at the chain hanging across his chest with an urge to yank it off. When he caught the direction of my stare, I saw the faintest hint of a smirk.

  “Answers. I can give you those for another even trade.” Eli folded his arms and waggled a brow. “Won�
�t hurt a bit. Just a little memory recall.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Just keep in mind that most here don’t give a shit what you want. Careful who you tangle with, Mage. You know where to find me if you change your mind. Good luck.”

  Eli stalked off towards the front of the club and I looked around, wondering where Logan was. We agreed that once Simon had Nero, Logan would drive me home. I walked the length of the club, but didn’t see him, so I followed a crowd into the dungeon. When I reached the bottom, I hurried past a woman in pointy heels, walking on a man’s bleeding back.

  These people had a twisted idea of fun. Was a pint of ice cream and a movie on a Friday night such a bad thing?

  Claustrophobia closed in as I shouldered my way through the thick crowd. How hard could it be to find a 6’5” shirtless blond?

  The narrow corridor came to a dead end and I stared at the dark wall. Someone grabbed my wrists and held them behind my back.

  “Hello, pretty.”

  “Let go of me,” I shouted.

  “No one leaves the dungeon once claimed, not until you finish the act.”

  “I’m not playing, so let me go.”

  I threw my leg back and kicked him hard, twisting my wrist to break his grip. He was quick, and swung me into an empty room. I fell over the edge of a hard surface. Before I could stand, a man with albino hair strapped a cuff around my wrist, tethering me to the table.

  Without thinking, I took his hand and threw my power into him, but quickly realized the man was a Mage. Juiced up with my light, he smiled. Wide. Rule number five in training with Justus was broken—never attack with your power unless you know who your enemy is. I had to be especially careful about throwing my light into another Mage, as the quality was brighter.

  “We’ve got a frisky one tonight, Ryker. Do you want me to tie down her legs?”

  “No. That would take the fun out of it.”

  I pulled at the cuff. “You can’t do this without my consent, you sadistic pig!”

  “Au contraire. You must participate. There’s no rule it has to be consensual,” he chuckled. “Play nice; if someone chooses you for their game, you complete the act. Period.” He shot a glance towards the albino. “God, I love the newbies.”