Chapter 1 #2
Nell just batted her lashes before moving away from the bar. Harper was about to follow when a firm grip on her wrist kept her in place.
“What happened?” Patricia gestured at Harper’s cheek. Right where some very expensive concealer had been applied.
Harper groaned. Full coverage, my ass.
“It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”
“What kind of scratch leaves a bruise of that size? Who did this, Harper?”
“No one!”
Harper felt her indignant expression crack as Patricia kept staring at her. This woman could wield maternal inquisitiveness as if it were a goddamn weapon, making it all but impossible not to squirm under her gaze. Harper’s record was about twenty seconds.
“No one you know. And I already broke up with him, so you don’t need to worry about it.”
Patricia’s stare didn’t soften in the slightest. “Does this have anything to do with those apartment applications you sent me?”
Harper sneered and turned away. Whenever she tried to read the tiny print most legal contracts preferred, it transformed into incomprehensible scribbles.
Since Patricia had the brains for prose, Harper always sent stuff like that to her so she could look it over.
But in this case, it also gave her ammunition for concerned questions.
Harper wasn’t the only one huddled under Patricia’s wing.
She had a thing for strays, favoring street kids and girls who didn’t get enough food at home.
Nell and Evie had been in her care long before Harper came along.
All three of them had been dealt a rotten hand, had been stuck in awful circumstances, and they all loved dating trash.
But they had a rule. If a partner ever hit you, you left. So far, none of them had actually needed to enforce it. Not even Nell, despite her last boyfriend getting scary enough that she needed a restraining order.
Leave it to Harper to ignore all the red flags until she had to fall back on a rule that shouldn’t even be necessary.
“He won’t leave me alone,” Harper mumbled. “He keeps showing up at my apartment, banging on the door and yelling things. But I’m dealing with it. Once I get a new place, he won’t know where I am, and he’ll lose interest.”
Patricia narrowed her eyes, her gaze still steely. But only for a moment, before her expression softened.
“You weren’t really sick this week. Were you?”
She had been sick of herself. Since her apartment was compromised, she’d gone to a crappy motel instead. The combination of a lumpy mattress and frayed nerves meant she hadn’t slept well in days.
It was her own fault for letting it get this bad. Kieran had been her exact type. Tall, dark-haired, a little dangerous. But he’d been decent, too. He’d treated her like she was his entire world and had been so protective that it bordered on being excessive.
Stupid. His charms had just been bait on a hook, and she’d only seen them as such when he finally had enough of her attitude and thought hitting her in the face would get her in line.
It hadn’t even surprised her. There was a reason no one knew about the guy she’d been seeing for the past few months. She’d known he was bad news. She’d just hoped that she was wrong, despite all the evidence.
Patricia caressed her cheek. “You’re done for tonight.”
“Darryl won’t like that. He was very insistent about me showing up. This place turns dreary without your little Aurora here to light up the room.”
“I’ll deal with Darryl. My little Aurora needs her beauty sleep.”
Harper scoffed. “You’re usually not one for jokes. It shows. That one was terrible.”
By the confused look on Patricia’s face, she hadn’t been conscious of the Sleeping Beauty reference. But unlike most people, Patricia’s focus was immune to quick-witted comments.
“You’re exhausted. If this guy is scaring you enough that you have to change addresses, that concerns me. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing will. Nothing has yet, and I’m keeping the trend.” Harper raised an eyebrow. “You worried I’ll disappear, too?”
The hard look in Patricia’s eyes was answer enough.
“You’re leaving, and that’s final. You can stay with me until we find somewhere new for you.” Patricia kissed her temple. “Now go. Lucas misses you, besides.”
She walked off before Harper could think of a sufficient comeback. They usually came fast enough, but other than spit out a lie, there wasn’t much Harper could do against all those astute observations.
Kieran had scared her, but like usual, she only got scared afterwards. Alone at the empty bar, the memory of him banging on the door so hard it almost broke off the hinges summoned a knot in her stomach. Which wouldn’t be lessened by strange men leering at her for the rest of the evening.
It wasn’t that late. Lucas’ bedtime wasn’t for another few hours. And it had been a while since she’d seen that little rascal.
She gave the room a quick survey—making sure no one important would notice her departure—and glanced at the nearby corner table. The woman who’d been sitting there was gone, having either found company or been told that people-watching came with a fee. Darryl had a quota to hit, after all.
Unlike a lot of clubs, dancers at the Lucky Penny didn’t have to buy a spot to work there. Instead, the owner skimmed a fat percentage off their tips and told them that if they didn’t like it, they could fuck off.
Most of them didn’t. Most of them didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Harper was about to approach Colton and let him know she was leaving, but seeing him ogle at the other girls made her think better of it.
Patricia didn’t want them to walk to their cars alone, but that was only because it lessened the chance of creepy men bothering them.
If Harper asked Colton to follow her out, she would get bothered by a creepy man.
It would be fine. It was just a short walk. The Penny had corralled all the local trash, anyway.
The Lucky Penny didn’t live up to its name. It was a rank, dirty, overcrowded establishment with grimy floors and out-of-control customers, and most of the furniture was held together by a combination of hope and duct tape.
To Maya, it was close to paradise.
“Haven’t seen anything interesting yet.” Maya ran a finger along the edge of her glass.
Nothing in this place was free, including looking around, and the room temperature beer was the price for hogging a table.
“I’m also being ignored. People are busy, and I don’t match the clientele they’re used to. ”
“Is it as bad as we suspected?” Diana’s voice scratched out of the phone speaker.
“Worse. It’s overcapacity, and the place can’t handle it.”
Maya glanced at one of the nearby booths.
A burly, redheaded man had pulled a passing dancer onto his lap, laughing as he put his hand between her legs.
Even though the woman shoved him in the chest before storming away, the one bouncer present either didn’t see the altercation or, more likely, didn’t care.
Maya gripped her glass tighter. “You’ll have your work cut out for you. Assuming you’ll be allowed. Seems like this place values profit over safety. Throwing out paying customers is bad for business.”
“Awful working conditions are, too. They just hit in the long-term rather than the present,” Diana muttered. “Gotta wonder what the hell they’re doing here. Natalya was right about this being a shithole.”
“I don’t recall her being that harsh.”
“Learn how to speak Regent. When Natalya describes a location as ‘unsavory,’ that’s just a diplomatic way of saying ‘shithole.’”
A blaring car horn made Diana curse, and Maya nearly snorted. By the sound of it, Diana had extended her perimeter check to the nearest highway. There was a fine line between being thorough and neurotic, and she had crossed it a while ago.
“What about the three of them? Seen them yet?” Diana asked.
Maya scanned the room again. The light was dim, since a few light bulbs had blown, and a sputtering fog machine brought a grainy texture to the space that would make most people squint in order to see anything. But Maya’s eyes were uniquely honed for darkness.
The thought stung. She took a deep breath, even though she didn’t need to.
“Not yet. But I only skimmed their information, and those photos we got were blurry as hell.”
“You only skimmed it, huh? Wise of you to keep that private until now. If Natalya heard you weren’t taking this seriously, she’d become very unpleasant.”
Natalya, the co-ruler of the Court of Chains, had been restless when she saw them off earlier that day. She was always intense, but the fact that this job involved the family of her beloved partner heightened that intensity an uncomfortable degree.
The people she’d first attached to this job didn’t do subterfuge very well, so Maya and Diana had been called in as replacements.
Natalya would have taken on the responsibility herself, but while she was good at many things, subtlety wasn’t one of them.
Unless your name was Evie Atkins, relaxing around Natalya was basically impossible.
“I am taking it seriously,” Maya said. “You were the one who pulled me onto this job and then didn’t give me the files until we’d already left Chicago. For some reason.”
“I figured you could just read while we were driving!” Diana said, nearly laughing. “It did answer something I’ve been wondering, though. Didn’t know your kind could get carsick.”
Maya rolled her eyes, trying—and failing—to put the words ‘your kind’ into their intended category. Just an innocent comment. Not a reminder of everything she’d rather forget.
Not that she could forget. Night vision wasn’t the only ability that had been forced on her. That sense was there too. The sweet smell of desire, underlined by a smoky hint of fear.
That smell followed her like a shadow. Every room filled with it as soon as the people within noticed her, and she didn’t even have the option to ignore it. She was designed to notice it. To embody and produce it.