“I always get jittery when I try a new act,” I said, applying a dusting of body shimmer to my neck and chest.
“Well, that’s an interesting outfit you have on.” Her orange eyebrows arched as she glanced down at my scantily clad body.
“I found a costume shop and did a little work on it with some scissors. You like?”
“You look like a ragamuffin, but if you think the men will go for that kind of thing, then more power to you.”
I smiled and stood up, admiring myself in the mirror. I pulled a lock of hair in front of my face and added extra blush on the contours of my cheeks to look animalistic and hungry. I already had defined cheekbones, so the shadowing drew attention to my face. I’d bought a short dress with jagged edges in brown and black—resembling something a cavewoman would wear. I cut it short, added a giant hole from my navel to my right hip, and ripped one strap away from my shoulder. I looked like a sexy woman in the midst of an escape.
I’d spent the past hour applying my makeup. A little rouge and eye shadow marked my wrist where I planned to cuff myself. The manacle at the end of the chain looked realistic even though it was thick plastic. The large links were dark and rusty looking, and I planned to attach them to the pole. I wore heavy liner to draw attention to my dark brown eyes.
“What exactly are you scheming, missy?” Daphne gave me a serious once-over as she stood up. “You do realize you look like a dirty slave?”
“Exactly,” I purred, swinging the chain. “These men have primal instincts I’m about to tap into. Human men want to be taken care of, but this fantasy plays into the Breed mind.” I wrapped the chain around the back of her neck, pulling her close. “And you know how our men love being heroes. The Shifters and Chitahs won’t know what hit them when they see a helpless woman in need of their protection.”
Her eyes widened. “Girl, you might start a war in there.”
“Let’s just say I’m taking no prisoners.” I winked and let the chain fall free from her neck. “I’m about to prove why you should stop learning all your tricks from those human clubs.”
I’d given all my plans to our stagehand earlier, and he’d volunteered to help with the effects behind the curtain at the back of the stage. Manny designed props, adjusted the lighting, cleaned the stage, and helped repair torn costumes. One of the girls had told me he was a Relic born without his parents’ knowledge having been passed on to him—a defect. Relics made careers from the knowledge their ancestors genetically passed down, making them experts in certain fields. Without that knowledge, they were nothing but a human with a slight chance of being able to have Relic children who might or might not inherit the wisdom that had skipped their parent.
I walked onstage, shrouded in darkness. Customers were happily getting their drinks refilled by beautiful women. I searched the room, looking for Wheeler. When I caught sight of him in the back, twirling a silver butterfly knife, I actually blew out a breath. He had his eyes on the crowd, watching every man sitting alone or who walked past him.
The music changed over and a steady beat and the sound of drums filled the room. I’d selected a rhythmic song that didn’t have the distraction of lyrics, and if sex could be translated to music, this song would have been it.
I clamped the cuff around the pole and crouched down on my side. It wasn’t until the spotlight showered me that the men turned their attention my way.
And boy, did they! I peered through my hair and saw the tip rail fill up. It wasn’t the kind of routine where I collected the money by hand or in the strap of my thong. Breed bars had their own system, and during the main attraction, the stage bouncers set my boxes at the designated areas on the stage for tipping. After the show, I’d walk around and find out who really enjoyed my performance… and how much.
Visual effects appeared on the thin blue curtain behind me where Manny had adjusted the lights along with props. It looked like ripples of midnight blue bringing to life a silhouette of twisted tree limbs. I rose to my hands and knees, looking around as if something were hunting me.
A couple of men gripped the bar around the stage, leaning forward, eyes wide, enthralled by the action unfolding.
Then I slowly tugged at the chain attached from my wrist to the pole. Unable to free myself, I walked around the pole and leapt up, spinning in an acrobatic move with my arm outstretched.