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I set my jaw and curled my talons into my palms. If only I could get a message out to Ruth, then I wouldn’t have to wait for the clock to wind down on their charm. All of the HQ would come down on this place like an unholy swarm of locusts. Surely one of the rooms on the first floor had a telephone. I’d seen one on Wesley’s desk.

“How do I get into Wesley office?

“You don’t.” Patty crawled out of her bed and hopped down beside me. “Anyone goes into that office, and we all get punished. You hear me? So, just get in line and shut up.”

I sat on the bed next to Tala. Her yellow eyes stared at the bottom of my mattress, unblinking. Last night’s scene was probably playing over and over again in her head. Once we were provided with new clothes, Wesley Blake had filled us in on the rules of the Ranch.

Rule number 1: we were there to entertain his guests.

Men and women with various tastes for the supernatural came from all over the world. Some just wanted to party. Others wanted a night alone with a lady or two. It didn’t matter. We were part of his collection now, like Barbie dolls he could take out and play with any time of the day.

“You girls are lucky,” the tall nymph said as she rolled on a sheer pair of panty hose over her exquisite legs. “Tonight’s the Golden Ball. We’re just there to entertain. It’s a good way to ease into the business. You’ll have a week to learn what we do from Livy, then they set you loose.”

“How is any of this lucky?” Tala mumbled. She turned to face the wall, wrapping her arm over her head.

“Entertain?” I asked the nymph.

That didn’t sound too bad. At least I had a week before they would expect me to jump into bed with any of the freaks that came in here. And if I could convince my mother to help me, she could get my boots back.

“Yeah, serve drinks and look pretty.” The nymph swept her hair out of her face and into an effortless knot at the top of her head. “Wesley invites his best clients. They drink themselves silly and end up too trashed by the end of the night to want anything more than a kiss on the cheek.”

I could serve drinks. Waitressing had paid some of the bills when I was in college. Easy.

“By the way, my name’s Anastasia,” the nymph said. She gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s rough for everyone at first. But Livy takes care of us girls. You’ll see. She’s our buffer.”

“Yeah, Livy’s the only reason I survived my first week,” Patty added. She had slipped on a black corset and motioned for Anastasia to tie it up. “Some half breed giant wanted to buy me from Wesley. Livy talked him out of it. The guy was gonna add me to his collection of dead girlfriends. A real sicko. Ted Bundy type.”

So, my mother was some sort of handler for these girls? What about her two kids? Didn’t she care about what happened to them?

I didn’t have time to question my mother’s intents any further. Anastasia whisked me away into a giant hall with mirrors that lined one entire wall. Warm yellow lightbulbs jutted out around the mirrors, like some movie star’s dressing room. Vanity tables piled high with makeup and hair products sat underneath the mirrors in a neat little row.

“Wesley doesn’t skimp on the product,” Bee told me as she passed by and settled herself on the edge of a stool in front of the nearest vanity. “We’re expected to look our best.”

“And tonight, gold is in,” Patty added.

Four hours later, after I’d been painted from head to toe in gold body paint, with shimmery gold fingernail polish, golden hair dye, and a sleek golden mini dress, I followed the girls into the ballroom. Luxurious golden drapes hung from the ceilings in elegant arches. Table clothes, platters, and even the food, all shone with the same golden hue. It screamed wealth to me. Wealth gained through the abuse of women like myself.

“This is your chance, ladies,” Anastasia said, cornering Tala and me before we could head to the drinks table. “Set the tone with Wesley. Smile and flirt with the customers, and he’ll love you for life. Be surly and mean, and he’ll throw you to the nastiest clients he’s got. This is your only chance.”

Tala and I exchanged looks. Neither of us exactly felt like smiling and flirting, but I didn’t want to end up on Wesley’s bad side just yet. I could probably fake a few compliments, but Tala worried me. Her eyes still had the haunted look of someone desperate to retreat into herself. It would take a miracle for her to play the flirtatious host tonight.

“Oh, and let down your wings, Aya. The clients will want to see them,” Anastasia added with a flirtatious wink. “And you, wolf girl. Show them your yellow eyes. They’ll eat that up.”

She left us to perch on a stand in the middle of the room with trays of food balanced delicately in each of her hands. Standing next to Tala, I could practically taste the anxiety coming off of her in waves.

“It’s just a sick game,” I whispered into her ear. “A sick game that you have to play. Put on your best smile and don’t think about tomorrow.” Grasping her hands in mine, I held them tight. “Tonight, we’re just waitresses. Tell yourself that. We’ll get out of here. I promise.”

A spark of hope lit up in her eyes. She squeezed my hands and nodded. Waitresses. That was all we were. Just a few more days. That was all I needed. If they were all like this, I could play along.

The customers began arriving soon after we took our places. Giant men with bowler hats, women with forked tongues that darted out of their mouths, a pale-skinned man that moved like an insect, another man with two faces on his head. I found myself staring at the monstrosities coming through the door. Without the magical spell that hid creatures in Arcana, everyone here was their true self. It was a jarring and fascinating thing to look over the crowd and see men with scales, women with red eyes, and humans mixed among them.

Drinks flowed from our hands into the cups of the guests. At one point, even Wesley Blake strolled through our line, a charming smile playing on his lips. I knew he was only there to check up on us. I did my best impression of a ditzy girl with a careless laugh. Even Tala managed a smile. In all, I thought we were winning the night. No one seemed to pay us any more attention than what was needed to fill their drinks.

That was, until a man with red eyes that scorched through me like the devil himself approached our table. It didn’t take much guessing to figure out what he was – I’d seen plenty of them around Arcana. He was a demon in a human host. Wrapping his fingers around my shoulders, he spun me around until I was forced to face him.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” he purred. The smell of whiskey was hot on his breath. “Such pretty black wings. You look like an angel. You could be my fallen angel tonight.”

I twisted my torso, tearing way from his ice cold fingers and leaning back against the table to put some space between us. “I don’t think so. Tonight, I’m just pouring drinks.”

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