6. Caden
Caden
I glared at the familiar symbol of a trident glowing over the thick, metal door. There were no signs other than the neon, and even the door was nondescript, giving no indication of the depravities that happened inside.
I fucking hated this place, the scent of sex, affairs, and the lies disguised as promises.
“Welcome to Atlantis, where your darkest desires are met with discretion. How can I assist you today?” the receptionist asked, her smile the perfect line between professionalism and seduction.
She was attractive, with her dark hair expertly styled around her shoulders and her makeup highlighting her features beneath the soft lighting.
It was part of the image, that behind these doors there were beautiful people ready to play if you had the right money.
Here, gods and goddesses were obtainable, if only for a few hours.
“I’m here to see Aeris,” I said, my muscles aching with how tense I was.
I really fucking hate this place, I thought for the third time in as many minutes.
Atlantis was a cesspool of sexually transmitted diseases blurred by low lighting and a pretty wrapper.
“Do you have an appointment, sir?”
Anonymity was part of the appeal, apparently. The idea that once you passed through the curtain you were only known as ‘sir’, ‘master’, or any other stupid fucking name you wanted to be called.
But that anonymity was nothing but a cleverly concealed veil, considering you had to pass a strict background check before you were even allowed inside the elite club.
“No.”
“You’ll have to make an—”
Without a care I pushed the thick curtain to my right aside, expecting to step into what was usually an old 50s-style bar.
The times I’d accompanied my cousin, I’d waited in one of the large booths, people watching as someone played the Steinway with a level of expertise that was lost amongst the crowd.
But today was different. The usual tables had been replaced by small, circular ones set with two chairs each, all angled towards a stage that had nearly doubled in size.
The lights were low, only the warm glow of table lamps illuminating the back booths, while a single spotlight gleamed off the man-sized martini glass filled with water positioned at centre stage.
Aeris reclined in the glass, her body hidden beneath a froth of bubbles. She tipped her head back as she sang, long dark-red hair falling down one side, her legs crossed and draped over the opposite rim.
I paused at the entrance, Aeris’s husky voice washing over me like pure sin. Lingering in the air, thick and intoxicating. It was just another part of her arsenal, alongside a body and a face she knew exactly how to wield.
Movement in my peripheral, and my gun was out and pressed to the security guard’s side before he even had a chance to touch me.
The guy stiffened, multi-coloured eyes widening a fraction before he recovered his composure.
He was clearly well trained enough not to flinch at a gun or draw attention to himself.
It made sense she employed someone well versed in the darker side of society, given her clientele ranged from the rich and famous, crooked politicians, crime lords, and leaders far more dangerous than they appeared.
There was a reason she was known as the Mistress of Whispers in certain circles, and that was because she could make anyone talk.
It was almost pathetic, really. Promise a little pleasure and these men would spill secrets they’d never share with their closest allies.
Pathetic but undeniably useful when it benefitted us.
But when it wasn’t, she became a problem.
“We don’t want any trouble,” the guard said quietly.
“Then I suggest you back away and let me speak to your boss.”
He grit his teeth. “You here on behalf of the Beast?”
“Let Aeris know I’m waiting.” Removing my gun from his side, I put it back in its holster hidden beneath my jacket.
Finding an available table I sat with my back to the wall, scanning the crowd while Aeris moved to a kneeling position in the glass.
Her long hair was expertly flipped over her shoulder, covering her breasts in a provocative manner.
She didn’t simply sing into the microphone, she seduced it. Her voice was rich and velvety, wrapping around each note with such effortless grace that the crowd looked up at her as if she was their damnation.
The song ended, and I found myself staring at her. That was the problem. Every time I walked into this place, she pulled at me like gravity. It was as if she had her own orbit, and everyone in the room tilted towards her without meaning to. Including me.
I hated it.
Hated that I reacted at all to a woman as infuriating as her.
A man stepped onto the stage, his chest bare except for a careless scatter of blue glitter.
He helped Aeris from the glass, revealing a nude-toned, skin-tight bodysuit so convincing it gave the illusion she wore nothing at all except for some strategically placed diamonds.
She patted at her damp skin with a towel, and with the red hair and matching lips, she held almost everyone’s attention.
But when those blue-green eyes collided with mine from across the room, I could do nothing but still.
Her smile strained for barely a second before she reached down towards the front row and stole a drink from one of the tables. With a wink, she removed the cherry from the glass before kneeling on the stage.
I clenched my jaw as she held the cherry between her teeth and leaned towards a brunette woman whose eyes had glazed with lust. The crowd reacted exactly the way she’d intended. Aeris passed the cherry from her lips to the woman’s, lingering just long enough to draw a sound from the room.
She was very much the siren she called herself. A succubus ready to fuck the soul out of anyone for the right price.
I didn’t catch what she said to the woman, only the way her expression fell when Aeris straightened and was helped down from the stage by another one of her Sirens. Her bare feet were silent against the dark wood as she closed the distance to me with deliberate steps.
“If it isn’t the Prince himself,” she said in that fucking voice. It matched her image, a velvety timbre that was like a breathy invitation that I had no intention of accepting.
“Not a prince.”
“The son of a baron.” She clicked her tongue, which only drew my eyes down to the red shade of her lips. “You’re as close to any prince as I’ll ever get. Let a girl dream.” Reaching over, she pressed her palm to my chest. “The last time you were here uninvited, you had me against the wall.”
I didn’t rise to the bait, because that was what she wanted. “The last time I was here, I was warning you about sharing information.”
Aeris smirked, all sensuality and sin, but I knew she disliked me as much as I disliked her. Probably because I never gave her the reaction she wanted.
“And you also swore you’d never come here now Sebastian has become an honest man. So, what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, keeping up the act while she had the audience.
“This is just business.” I caught her wrist, her slight annoyance not going unnoticed. “We need to talk.”
“What is it with men lately, thinking they’re entitled to my attention?”
Her skin was hot to touch, and I wanted nothing more than to push her away. But neither of us moved. Neither of us willing to be the first to break.
That was the real problem. We didn’t just clash, we pushed. Constantly. An unspoken game of chicken, each of us daring the other to bend first, to react. She was the only person who’d ever managed to get under my skin. The only one who challenged me while everyone else backed down.
So. Fucking. Infuriating.
Movement in my peripheral, and I noticed a few of her male Sirens hovering, looking to intervene.
They were all ridiculously ripped, their bare chests indicating that they ate nothing but protein and dehydrated themselves to the point of death.
Their bodies were all for show, and I knew they’d never risk their most valuable assets, themselves, to help against a man much larger, stronger.
Aeris threw her head back with a forced laugh, the sound enough to set my teeth on edge. “If you wanted me to yourself, all you had to do was book.”
“I don’t pay for sex,” I grunted, squeezing her wrist just a little harder.
Aeris gave no indication that it hurt, and yet I felt her bones creak. “Good, because I don’t sell it. But you do look like you’d know how to please a woman. Or a man, if that’s to your taste.”
“If you’re finished, I’d prefer our conversation continued in private,” I bit out, my patience wearing thin.
She let out another gentle laugh, a single strand of red curling across her forehead.
“Fine. Come to my office. I have time before my next appointment.” She tugged her arm, and I finally released her.
Her fair skin was marked, but I didn’t feel guilty.
She shouldn’t have touched me in the first place. “Follow me.”
Gritting my teeth at the command in her tone, I followed her to her office, ignoring the curious and somewhat jealous stares that prickled against my back.
Passing through a heavy wooden door, she waved a hand at one of two armchairs on the left, opposite a large vanity and desk to the right.
I ignored both, instead making my way to the back where there was a wooden shelf spanning the entire wall.
It seemed to be made from driftwood, each shelf characteristically different and displaying the most unusual things.
Crystals, iridescent ornaments, and even a decorative fork.
I picked up a pearlescent shell to hold it to the light, only to feel her presence closely behind.
“I collect pretty things,” she commented, waiting until I placed the shell back down before adjusting its position.
“What do you want, Mr Ackworth? My time is money.” I turned to find her there, looking up at me with a face and body made for sex.
Heavy breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her bodysuit, highlighting a small waist, long legs with thick thighs and generous hips …
Her lips curved, a knowing look that she’d caught me looking.
Fucking hell.
Why did she have to dress like that? Her body was provocative enough without needing to dress as if she were naked. But I guess that was part of the act, the fabric just transparent enough to show her curves without actually making her bare. A tease of what was to come if you could afford it.
Stepping closer, she lifted a hand to tug at my collar. Her nails brushed my skin, and before I could think I had her against the wall, my larger body hovering over hers with an ease that should have terrified her. Not pressing, exactly, just a warning.
“You see,” she said, utterly unbothered. “This is why you’re my second-favourite guard dog.”
I didn’t ease back, irritated that she’d managed to provoke a reaction at all.
“Langdon is much better company,” she continued, as if I wasn’t twice her size and capable of ending her life with one hand.
“Care to explain why you went into a hotel room with Isaac Gordon two nights ago, and he ended up dead?” I asked, studying her expression. Up close, I could make out the water droplets clinging to her skin, glistening like glitter and making her seem almost ethereal.
Her eyes darkened, giving her away even as she hid it beneath a seductive smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” I pulled out my phone and showed her a still of Isaac kissing her neck in the lift. “Is it true that blondes have more fun?”