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The room was jammed, some attendees standing around and drinking, others seated in several love seats. Many of the new slaves sat beside their owners, cut up and beaten, eyes glazed.
Reyes repressed the deep disgust that threatened to rise like bile up his throat. There would be time later to punish each and every slaver. For now, he needed to stay focused on doing all that he could to discover the man in charge and take him down.
Scorpion had kept his identity secret from the time Starlin came into existence. Once Reyes found out who the man was, he could begin the process of working his way into his inner circle. Beyond Scorpion’s identity, he needed the documents that detailed every aspect of how the organization worked. After that, he’d know exactly how to destroy Starlin from within, step by step.
As he moved through the room, attention became increasingly focused on Angelica.
When he’d told her earlier that he hated the idea of other men looking at her, he meant it. Some caveman part of him had already laid claim to her, so to have other men openly lusting after her scraped at his nerves.
Angelica’s voice pierced his thoughts. Calm down. I can feel your agitation like it’s rubbing against my skin.
It shows?
Well, that fist you’re making is at least one clue.
He relaxed his hand and stretched out his fingers.
That’s better.
For the next hour, he greeted most of the members by name, essentially working the room. What wasn’t lost to him was the goodwill that flowed in his direction. He realized that a lot of slavers here liked what he’d done by winning the bid, beating out Engles.
By the time he’d made a circuit of the large, ballroom-like space, Engles waited once more back at the top of the stairs. He gestured for Reyes to join him.
Engles wants us.
Got it.
Once Reyes was standing beside Engles—with Angelica on his other side, though as always slightly behind him—Engles caught Reyes’s hand.
Lifting it high, Engles called out, “Our winning bidder for our most sought-after slave.”
Heavy applause and a few whistles and shouts sounded through the room.
When the audience settled down, Engles turned to him. “And now, my friends, I have a surprise for my guest of honor.” He pivoted toward Reyes. “A theatrical performance from the owner of The Ruby Cave. The famous Eve said she knows you well and agreed to bring one of her troupes here, to perform for you tonight. Now follow me.”
Turning to his right, Engles led the way down the sloping path of the theater, settling them in a front-row love seat. The stage was situated just a few yards away, raised up only a foot, so that all the action would be at eye level.
More than one of the couples in the audience had already gotten busy, slaves on their knees. You need to prepare yourself. This whole thing might erupt into an orgy.
He heard her sigh. Great. Will I be expected to join in?
It’s standard courtesy that slaves be shared with other members of the club. But I won’t let that happen tonight.
Won’t they suspect you if you don’t participate?
We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
He didn’t glance around but he knew damn well everyone in the theater would be watching him, and his slave, throughout the performance.
The lights dimmed, and at the same time the stage spots lit up the area to the left. Eve appeared, wearing red leather from head to toe. She was a tall woman with long blond hair that ranged past her knees. Tonight she wore it pulled on top of her head to cascade behind in a ponytail. But even that rope of hair landed mid-buttocks.
Eve owned The Ruby Cave and had been one of the leading performers of The Erotic Passage for a long time. She had a melodious, carrying voice. “Hello, my lovelies, and welcome to a performance by the Ruby Theater Players. Knowing that my good friend Reyes would be here, I designed a show just for him and for his lovely date.”
Eve was a major star in The Erotic Passage, otherwise known as The Passage. She was heavily into BDSM, but played the game by her own rules. He knew her well: she didn’t approve of slavery, but she had a no-judgment rule about everyone. Of course, it hadn’t failed to reach his notice that she often bought slaves, putting them to work in her club for a period of time, then eventually setting them free. By his count, she’d saved thousands.
He trusted her—so much so that she was one of only two people who knew of his mission. The other was the owner of The Passage, a short Italian vampire named Rumy. Both could keep a secret, and each had promised to help if he ever found a way to bring Starlin down.
On a more personal level, Eve had been trying to get him on her table, chained down, for a long time. She’d told him repeatedly that after everything he’d been through, a good dominance session would work wonders for him, give him the kind of release he’d been needing for a few decades now.
He’d never do it, of course. He’d made himself a promise that never again would a woman chain him down.
Angelica crossed her legs, grateful that at least for now, her body for the most part wasn’t on display. She relaxed against the soft cushion of what looked and felt like a regular old love seat. To her right another slave from the auction house was already bending her head down into the lap of her lord-and-master, and the show hadn’t even gotten started.
She drew her hair close to her face to block as much of that image as she could.
She was also grateful that Reyes had pulled her close so that she was pressed up against him. The cave wasn’t freezing, but without even a decent shirt or pants on, she was cold.
The woman, Eve, had an exotic appearance. She wore stiletto boots that rose past her knees, snug red leather pants, and a tight red leather bustier that supported large br**sts.
She carried a long black whip. Swinging it once over her head, she cracked it at the end of the stage.
Angelica jumped.
At the same time, a sound track started up that had a deep thumping rhythmic bass, a strong guitar, and a beat that spoke of sex and not much else.
Angelica put a hand to her stomach. She didn’t want to be affected by what she was about to see, but Reyes’s warm body, her never-ending desire for him, and the sexual nature of the music rippled through her. She felt things she didn’t want to feel, more so because she knew Reyes had tensed up the moment Eve had said this performance was meant for him.
Even his thighs flexed and released.
At first, she thought it was a sexual reaction; then she realized it had to be something else because sex was not the sensation she got from him right now. If she had to define it, she’d call it fear. But what did Reyes have to be afraid of in a theater like this?
