Lead Heart (Seraph Black, #3)

“I’m a fast learner,” I answered. “I can copy the other girls.”


He didn’t seem convinced, but Poison stepped into his line of vision and effectively distracted his attention away from me, charming him with harmless flirting and her own brand of self-confidence. After only five minutes, he declared the interview over. He picked up a phone from his desk and spoke into it, asking for someone named Kitty. I was forced to hold back a cringe as Kitty walked into the office; her passing from the dim shadows and into the light was a transition I wouldn’t recommend for anyone over the age of fifty trying to obscure the truth of their years beneath an inch of concealer and cover-up. Her eyes were framed with blue eyeshadow and her lips were painted a deep plum colour. I could tell that she might have looked partway alluring without the light glaring down on her, especially with the frothy white teddy that covered her from chest to thigh. Her legs were long and toned, definitely her best feature.

“New girls?” she asked without preemption, cocking her head at us.

“Giving them a trial day,” Simon confirmed. “Show them the VIP rooms, won’t you, love? People haven’t been visiting them lately… maybe a little good girl/bad girl is just what the doctor ordered.”

Kitty nodded, clucking her tongue. “Follow me then, what do you call yourselves? Any experience?”

“Poison and Angel!” Simon shouted out after us, probably making sure that I wouldn’t say Seraph again.

“We don’t have much experience,” I answered her other question as the door fell shut behind us.

Cabe and Clarin had disappeared, but that was part of the plan. If we wanted to draw Silas’s attention, it needed to look as though I was there without any of the guys watching over me. They would step in if they were needed, but would otherwise stay invisible. Poison didn’t seem to be having too much trouble keeping up with Kitty—who was weaving expertly between the people, once again rejecting the reality of her age—but I was struggling in the heels that I was unaccustomed to. Finally, Kitty paused at a small alcove, yanking back a set of heavy red curtains.

“Cameras,” she announced, pointing up into the corners of the small, square space, “so we’ll know if anything goes down here that shouldn’t. You don’t have to take everything off—only what they pay for. Remember the price list, because it ain’t printed down on flyers. Twenty will get them a show in a VIP room, but you’ll have to get them to pay up front. There’s a guard down the hallway…” she pointed back the way we had walked. “Give him the cash and then bring the guys back here. No touching at all, understood? We don’t run a prostitution service here. Lap dances are an extra twenty once you’re in here. You make your own prices for other stuff, but remember that we have cameras… so don’t go trying to swindle Simon out of a cut.”

“Got it,” Poison spoke up, sounding completely unfazed.

“Well go on then.” Kitty waved us away. “Find a client or two, get them worked up enough to wanna try out one of the VIP rooms, and then bring them back. They get fifteen minutes in the room unless they pay for more.”

She turned and we watched her speed off before turning to each other.

“Sure you can do this, cupcake?” Poison whispered, examining my face with concern.

“Maybe. Let’s find the bathroom.”

We went further down the hall and pushed into the girl’s bathroom, checking to make sure it was empty before locking the door behind us. I tossed my now-useless coat onto one of the tables, extracting the little notepad from one of the pockets before crawling up onto the counter. The bathroom looked like it had recently been cleaned and hadn’t been used since. That wasn’t particularly surprising, since there weren’t very many female patrons in the club and the dancers probably had a staff bathroom. The counter was made of some kind of material that was meant to look like marble, but clearly wasn’t, since it was beginning to peel in places.

I closed my eyes as Poison busied herself on her phone—probably texting the others.

Show me something, I pleaded my forecasting ability. Show me anything. Show me what to do.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, the pencil began to move. I screwed my eyelids even tighter together, trying to see the scene as my fingers drew it. Oddly, no details made themselves known to me, though I searched and searched until my pencil stopped moving. When I opened my eyes again, the blackness remained, and I panicked.

“Poison!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Poison! I can’t see!”

I stumbled off the counter, pitching sideways in confusion and colliding with her, the notebook falling from my shaking fingers. She gripped my shoulders, and then touched my face, moving it this way and that.

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