Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Kade
D espite being called a mansion by the monsters who reside here, the place is more like a castle with its stone walls and long corridors. Horrendous oil paintings adorn the walls, and gaudy decorations fill the rooms. Mistress Raiine’s taste in décor is a travesty.
I walk the familiar path without needing directions, but Sparky seems intent on riding every one of my nerves bareback today as he mutters instructions behind my back.
“Left. Right. Up the stairs.”
I grit my teeth and bite back my irritation, knowing that fighting with him is only going to prolong my client’s wait, and it will risk my well-being in the process. I’ll save it for another day.
“Can you tell me anything else about the client?” I ask, desperate for him to shut the fuck up about directions.
“Only that she’s new,” he grunts. “She’s never been here before, and she asked for you specifically. Danton didn’t say anything else.”
I frown, wishing he had something else for me to go on, but it isn’t out of the norm. I rarely know much about who I’m meeting until I’m shoved into the room with them.
“Right.”
We take two flights of stairs that are reserved for staff and emerge onto a private landing that’s kept hidden from guests and clients. They aren’t allowed to see the inner workings of the mansion, only the theatrics that are curated for them. To our left is a darkly stained door with no doorknob.
Sparky places his hand against it, waiting a beat as it unlocks, before shoving it open for us to step inside.
There isn’t much to the room, but over the years I’ve memorized everything about it, down to the cracks in the cement-block walls. A single lamp lights the space, and a small table waits against the wall to our left. Another doorway stands straight ahead of us, and upon seeing it, a tickle of anticipation races up my spine. On the other side, my client awaits, and as reluctant as I am to see the job through, I can’t help but be a little curious.
What kind of monster or monstress awaits?
Sparky makes his way to the small table, which is topped with an old-fashioned bottle and a single shot glass. The sight is so familiar that I hardly pay attention as he uncorks the bottle and fills the tiny glass to its brim with a swirling, pink liquid.
“Drink,” he says, carefully passing it to me.
I take it begrudgingly and stare down into it, watching the light play off the drink rippling inside. Even after years of taking the aphrodisiac potion, I still have to talk myself into it most days. Not only does it make me completely lose my inhibitions and unlock an unbridled wave of lust, but it tastes like ass. And not the good kind.
“Sometime today, Fucker,” Sparky hisses, and I shoot him a look before knocking back the drink.
I grimace, swallowing several times to rid my mouth of the rank aftertaste, and toss the empty glass back to him.
“That shit’s disgusting.”
He laughs, returning the glass to its place on the table.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he says.
With a flick of one of his claws, he removes the silver bands from my wrists and tucks them into his pants pocket. I massage the skin where they’ve been, rubbing life back into my hands, and reach for my ability to shapeshift in vain. I’m keenly aware that this room blocks my magic, but I try every time, nevertheless.
Maybe one of these days the magic blockers will wane, and I’ll find a tiny window for escape.
“How long did they pay for?” I ask, ushering away intrusive thoughts. Now isn’t the time to consider running away; I have a job to do.
Sparky chuckles and presses his hand flat against the second door until a tiny click resonates throughout the room.
“There is no time limit.”
I swallow hard.
Shit .
If there’s no time limit, whoever’s waiting on the other side of that door clearly has a lot of money and probably power. I’m at their disposal until they tire of me.
There’s no telling how long I’ll be trapped inside that room.
“Get to work,” Sparky says, dropping his voice. He pushes open the door and shoves me hastily inside, sending me stumbling over the threshold and catching my balance with a curse.
By the time I turn around to yell at him, the door is sealed again.
Fucking coward .
“You must be the shapeshifter,” a voice purrs from behind me, sending chills down my spine.
I turn slowly, bracing myself for whatever kind of monstress awaits, and I’m taken aback by the form draped over the cream-colored chaise lounge.
Wearing a shimmering pink dress that dips low in the front and ties around her neck, it shows off her ash-colored skin and stunning blue eyes. Not one of the lighter shades that humans normally have, but bold, royal blue. Four horns curl out elegantly from her forehead and spiral backward while long silver hair cascades behind her, spilling around her in a glittering wave. Her red lips curl with a curious smirk.
The first thing I notice about her after I drink in every detail of her appearance is her posture. She’s not waiting for me hungrily as most of my clients do, nor is she rushing to throw herself at me. She looks casual, comfortable, and radiates the ethereal beauty of a goddess.
Obviously, she’s in no rush to do the deed, but I feel the effects of the potion starting to kick in. My blood warms, and heat pools in the pit of my stomach. It won’t be long before I’m armed with a raging boner I can’t control, and my libido takes over.
“I am,” I say, dipping my head.
For a moment, neither of us moves. I watch her carefully, drinking in every detail about her, and struggle to find something to say.
I shuffle my feet on the ground. Normally, I’m not this tense or flustered, but something about this monstress has bells ringing in my head. Not alarm bells, but definitely something.
Recognition? Impossible. I’ve never seen her in my life.
Interest?
To disguise my discomfort and distract myself, I move to kick my shoes off by the bed. I debate hauling off my T-shirt and starting a pile of discarded clothing on the floor, but something tells me to wait. If the monstress isn’t in a hurry, why should I be?
At the very least, taking my time gets me out of my room for a little longer, and while I’m still surrounded by four walls and locked doors, the change of scenery is a relief.
She shifts on the lounge chair and sits on the edge, her eyes glued to my movements. When I meet her gaze, the faintest flutter rolls through my center.
That’s got to be the potion . It’s working faster than normal today.
Sparky probably upped the potency to fuck with me. What a fuckstick.
“Are you thirsty?” she asks, gesturing to a side table where another bottle sits. This one is accompanied by a fat wine glass.
“No, thank you.” I shake my head at the offer. “Food and drinks are only provided for guests.”
She scoffs, her blue eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “That sounds just like Mistress Raiine. Please, have some. I won’t tell.”
I hesitate, my gaze bouncing between her and the bottle on the table. Mistress Raiine doesn’t starve me—I need my strength in order to entertain her clients after all—but I’m not afforded luxuries like the wine or hot meals that clients often receive.
It’s tempting.
And as humans say in the mortal realm, the customer is always right.
“You’ve convinced me.”
I cross to the table and pour myself a generous glass from the open bottle, raising it to the monstress before putting it to my lips and taking a swig. I’m probably not supposed to drink alcohol with the aphrodisiac potion, but the thought doesn’t cross my mind until it’s too late.
“Thank you,” she says and pats the cushion beside her. “Come. Sit with me.”
After another swig and a smirk, I oblige.
I leave a gap between us, content to wait for her permission to move closer. It’s never mattered before—most of the time we don’t even get pleasantries out of the way before clients jump my bones—but something about this monstress feels different. Is different. While I may not have a name for the deep-seated feeling in my bones, I acknowledge its presence.
“What’s your name?” she asks, taking me by surprise.
I quirk a brow at her. How could she not know who I am if she asked for me specifically? Maybe Sparky lied to shut me up on the way over. I wouldn’t put it past him.
“The Monster Fucker.”
She tucks a strand of silver hair behind her pointed ear and shakes her head. “No, no. Your real name.”
I’m speechless. In all the years I’ve been trapped in the mansion, no one has ever bothered to ask my real name. No one has ever cared. I’ve almost forgotten the way it sounds, but the memory of it and what it means hits me hard. My name represents my freedom and everything I was before the mansion. Before Mistress Raiine.
“No one’s ever asked me that before,” I admit.
The corners of her mouth dip downward. “Never?”
A familiar warmth rolls through my body as my libido spikes. The effects of the potion will be impossible to resist shortly, but I’m doing my best to fight it. My cock stiffens, straining uncomfortably against my jeans, and I tug at the material in search of some relief.
I shake my head, still unsure why it’s important to her. “I’m sure Mistress Raiine has all but forgotten it. It’s Kade.”
“Kade,” she repeats, my name dripping from her tongue like honey and making my cock twitch. I can’t help but wonder how it’ll sound later when she’s riding my dick. “My name is Synistra. But you can call me Syn.”
Syn . With a name like that, it’s no wonder why she has such an effect on me. She’s magnetic. Intoxicating. And if I don’t bury myself inside her in the next few minutes, this potion is going to make me explode.
In all the times I’ve visited this room, I’ve never felt anything like this. I’ve also never known the name of any of the clients I’ve been with, even the repeats.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” she says, licking her lips as she stares me down. “How did you find yourself working for Mistress Raiine?”
My stomach turns with unease as I recall the deal that went down. Being framed. Being turned over to the monsters. Even after all these years, it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“You’re doing it again,” she says, a musical laugh escaping her lips.
My jaw tenses. “Doing what?”
She leans closer, the delicious smell of her skin cutting through the room’s floral aroma and tantalizing my senses. She’s sharp and sweet like citrus, with something musky dancing underneath. I want to close my eyes and breathe her in, but I refrain. There will be plenty of time for that momentarily.
I want to enjoy the few minutes I have left before I’m unable to resist the potion’s influence.
“Acting surprised.” She leans back on her hands, and my eyes land briefly on her chest. The urge to close the distance and kiss my way up her neck is growing by the second, so I look away with the feeble hope that it’ll help.
It doesn’t.
“I’m not acting,” I say, my gaze glued to the wall. “No one’s ever asked me that before either.”
The softest chuckle passes her lips. “There’s a first time for everything.”