A Gray Area

by Amy Sumida

  “No, but you'll have to pretend to be so in Dirty Nothings,” I said breathlessly. “Can you do that?”

  “I'll give it a shot.” Malik's eyes sparked red in their violet depths.

  I grinned again. Some of the most powerful men liked to be bossed around in the bedroom. I was certain Malik wanted to both protect me and give me pleasure, but I also had a feeling that he'd enjoy it too. We'd just have to see where the paddle landed.

  Chapter Twelve

  There were no other flowers or foliage of any kind found in the gray area, or “The Gray” as we'd taken to calling it. Davorin got a few laughs from telling the others about our S&M escapades, but Kyrian wasn't amused.

  “Tell me you're not going back there,” Kyrian growled at me. “It could be dangerous.”

  “I'll be with her,” Malik said calmly.

  “As a submissive,” Kyrian scoffed.

  “Just because I'm playing a role does not mean I'm limited to it.” Malik gave Kyrian a challenging look. “But I suppose it isn't the club so much as who's accompanying Amara there that bothers you.”

  Malik hadn't wanted to do this but now that Kyrian was against it, he was all for it. Go figure. Reverse psychology at its finest.

  “Your little love triangle was hella amusing and all but—“ Jason looked over at Davorin. “Wait, it's not a triangle, it's a square.” He started again, “Your little love square may have been amusing once, but it's getting old. Can you tone down the testosterone? It's making me nauseous.”

  “Here! Here!” Lily pounded her empty shot glass on the table.

  “Hey, watch the wood!” Leo moved a coaster toward her.

  We were in Leo's new apartment and it was filled with his new furniture. Government employment had been a huge step up for him, and Leo had clearly been enjoying the benefits. Lily, who had started off wealthy, didn't appreciate the importance or significance of Leo's new purchases. She didn't understand what it was like to grow up pinching pennies and then suddenly have money.

  “It's just a table,” Lily huffed.

  “It's a very nice table,” I emphasized the words; hoping they'd get through to her.

  “Yeah,” Leo said gruffly. “And I'd like to keep it that way. It's the most expensive coffee table I've ever owned.”

  “Oh,” Lily murmured. “Sorry, Leo; I'll be more careful.”

  “It's okay.” Leo wiped a smudge from the glossy surface. “Just use a damn coaster.”

  “Never mind the table,” Davorin said in exasperation. “We don't have a love square. That's not even a thing.”

  “No?” Leo asked. “Then you and Kyrian aren't pissed off because Amara chose to be with Malik?”

  “Leo,” I growled. “Not acceptable.”

  “But it's acceptable for them to act like idiots in the middle of a mission and possibly screw up a really good thing for the rest of us?” Leo narrowed his eyes at the men in my love square.

  “No; that's not acceptable either,” I agreed. “And this needs to stop. If you three want to bash your horns together like randy rams, then by all means; go ahead and do so. But do it on your own time. Leo's right; this isn't about us.”

  “You just told him that what he said was unacceptable,” Davorin muttered.

  “And it was,” I said primly. “It was discourteous. But so was what Kyrian and Malik were doing.”

  “I was defending myself.” Malik crossed his thick arms over his chest. “Kyrian started it.”

  “Be that as it may, I'm finishing it.” I grimaced when I realized I sounded like a mother scolding her children. “All of you assured me that you could work together. Were you lying?”

  “I don't have a problem with either of them,” Malik said evenly. “But if I'm attacked—verbally or physically—I will defend myself.”

  “Malik, he was expressing his concern,” I said gently. “Was it colored by bitterness? Possibly. But you could have been the bigger man and shown some patience since you are the one in a relationship with me.”

  Malik grimaced.

  “Thank you,” Kyrian said stiffly.

  “And you need to meditate or do whatever it is that Arcs do to get their emotions under control,” I said to Kyrian.

  “You were the one who told me to let go of my control!” Kyrian snapped. “And now you want the halo back? I can't just swing back and forth at your whim, Amara.”

  “I'm not saying you should go full-halo.” I was trying really hard to be patient. “Just clear your head while your working.”

  Kyrian nodded stiffly. “As you wish, Princess Amaranthine.”

  I rolled my eyes at that but didn't say anything. If Kyrian needed to save face by calling me a princess, that was fine with me. There were far worse things he could call me.

  “I would tell you to stop acting like an immature idiot, but that isn't possible,” I said to Davorin. “So, please, just make an effort to get along.”

  “I can be mature,” Dav huffed.

  Jason, Leo, and Lily—the three who knew Davorin best—started hooting with laughter.

  “I can!” Davorin snapped.

  “Moving on,” I said. “Can we work out a schedule for us to alternate sweeps of the Gray? Malik and I can't go tomorrow since we'll be busy at Dirty Nothings, but after that, we can take our turns.”

  “Sure. I can jot something down,” Lily offered.

  “I wish we'd gone with you,” Jason whined. “I would love to see a sex club.”

  “You can apply for membership on your own time,” I suggested. “You might even be able to afford it now.”

  “How much was it?” Jason asked in surprise.

  Right on cue, Davorin said in a voice that mimicked mine, “If you have to ask, darling, you can't afford it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was a new doorman on duty when we showed up for our appointment the next day. He checked my membership card and let me in with my guest. No suggestive looks or anything. Just a polite, “Welcome to Dirty Nothings.”

  We went to the hostess at her station; the same one from the day before. She remembered us and smiled brilliantly.

  “We're so happy to have you join us!” she exclaimed. “Your trainer will be Tara. She's eager to meet you both but she's currently with another couple. I see that your appointment was for 2:30 so you still have another half an hour. But you could have a drink in the bar while you wait and Tara could meet you there as soon as she's finished.”

  “Sure, that's fine.” I cocked my head at her. “We heard there's a shop on the second floor. Is that correct?”

  “Oh, yes.” She nodded. “Shall I have her meet you there instead?”

  “Yes, thank you. We haven't brought anything to wear.”

  “I'm sure they can help you with that.” She looked us over and lingered on Malik. “Although, you may have to go with straps for him. I'm not sure we have anything so”—she paused to lick her lips—“big.”

  Malik lifted his eyebrows.

  “Where's the shop?” I drew her attention back to me.

  “Huh?” She blinked. “Oh! Just go through the bar and take the elevator to the second floor. The shop will be on your right.”

  “Thank you.” I took Malik's hand and led him away from the drooling hostess before she got the nerve to do more than stare.

  We went in the same way as we had before; Malik heading through the Men's Lounge while I went through the Women's and then meeting up on the other side. Before we started for the bar, I scanned the main room. Nearly every aura in the room was a lusty, blood-red. Mr. Aura would have stood out as if one of the spotlights were on him. He wasn't there. However, there was a very interesting show involving peaches on the main stage. I cleared my throat and turned away before the fruit was ruined for me forever.

  “Was that woman shoving a peach up—”

  “Yes,” I cut Malik off. “Don't look, darling.”

  “No sign of our quarry?”

  “Not yet.”

  “
Should we search the other rooms down here or head straight upstairs?”

  “I suppose he could have been in one of the private rooms,” I mused as my stare wandered to the others doors that were spread around the room. “But I have a feeling that if he's indulging at all, he's one of those people with particular tastes.”

  “We can start upstairs and if we don't find him, we'll have our trainer show us around down here,” he suggested.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  We strode down the hallway that had been shown to us the day before. The sound of sex followed us into the bar like a bean-sidhe wail; something more evil than erotic. The same bartender was working, and he smiled wickedly at me as he placed a cocktail on a waitress' tray. I could see his entire uniform this time; a jock-strap attached to a leather harness. I pointedly ignored him and the rest of the arousing scenes in the bar as we headed into the elevator.

  The elevator car was all chrome and black with a leather padded bench at the back. I stared at the leather and wondered how many times it had to be cleaned each day. Judging from the aura of sex clinging to it, it was likely a lot. There were three buttons on the elevator panel, but the one for the third floor had a keyhole beside it. Mimi hadn't mentioned a third floor but I did remember seeing it from the outside. It was the only floor with uncovered windows; how interesting. I'd have to see if our trainer could be swayed into taking us up for a look-see. For now, we'd search the areas available to us. I pushed the button for the second floor.

  The door pinged open, and we stepped out into an entry hub. A long hallway stretched out to the left and a shorter one to the right. I saw the shop's cheery window down the short hallway; mannequins wearing leather masks and rubber corsets posed beside displays of strap-ons, paddles, and golden oils. The sound of muted music thumped from somewhere past the store; the dance club, I presumed.

  We decided to go left and padded down the thick carpet until we reached an inwardly curving bank of windows; the sort you'd find around an atrium. These were the windows I'd spotted from the main room. A hallway followed them in a circle with benches set around it directly before the glass. Speakers hung from the ceiling; emitting sounds clearly funneled in from the main stage below. Several people sat in groups on the benches; enjoying the view. Nearly all of them were also letting the show inspire them into creating some displays of their own.

  I looked past the intimate acts and noted numerous hallways shooting off from the circular one like the spokes of a wheel.

  “We need to split up and investigate,” I said.

  “No.”

  “Malik, we only have thirty minutes to ourselves, and we just wasted five getting up here. I'd like to investigate as much as possible now. If we can find him on our own, we won't need to go to the training session.”

  He sighed deeply. “Let's be quick about it.”

  “Ten minutes, top,” I agreed.

  Malik nodded and headed toward the left while I went right. I strode down the first hallway I came to and found a couple of doors on each side. They were all labeled. There was the Jungle Room, the Velvet Room, the Royal Room, and the Fire Room. I lifted my brows at the last one and since it was unoccupied, I took a look. I really should have been furtively peeking into the occupied ones, but my curiosity had to be appeased first.

  Shades of red greeted me. Not surprising for a fire-themed room. A round, red bed perched on a dais in the center of it all. No, wait; not a bed. It was more of a pedestal like the stages below. There was no bedding in sight. No pillow, blankets, sheets, or any other fabric. When I saw what else was in the room, I could understand why there was such a total lack of flammable material.

  Behind the pedestal was an electric fireplace set into the wall. That was mainly for looks; the blue and orange flames going nicely with the red walls. On a shelf before the fireplace sat the room's main form of entertainment; rows of candles waiting to be lit. Skinny ones, fat ones, tall ones, and short ones. Any kind of candle you may want. In case you didn't wish to bother with lighting a candle, there was a marble table beneath the shelf holding pots of wax waiting to be melted and spoons to dish the stuff out. There were also canisters of fuel; those small ones that you use for fondue pots. Lighters waited in a crystal tray; sleek gold ones as well as the ones with long metal tubes for lighting candles. Then there were the brands.

  I walked over to a table in a daze and stared at a set of iron letters that could be affixed to long handles. A brazier was nearby; waiting to be lit. I was assuming that's what the cans of fuel were for. Sterno; that's what they're called. I read the name on the cans. My fingers drifted over the iron letters. Did people seriously let their lovers brand them? Talk about commitment. Or obsession.

  “Finding everything to your satisfaction?” A sultry male voice purred from the doorway.

  I jerked around; startled. “I'm terribly sorry; I thought I was allowed to look around.”

  “Oh, you most certainly are.” The man stepped into the room and glided over to me with feline grace. “Look anywhere you desire. In fact, I'd be happy to show you whatever you'd like to see. Anything at all.” He slid his fingers down my arm, lifted my hand to his mouth, and rubbed his full, sensual lips against the back of my hand. “I'm Cyprian; I own this establishment.”

  Cyprian was so sexy that he was practically an aphrodisiac. Carnality dripped off him. Pheromones oozed from his pores. His lithe body was poured into a pair of snug-but-not-too-tight leather pants and an unbuttoned silk shirt was draped casually over that. The silk was deep blue and hung loosely down the sides of his chest; outlining his lean muscles. His skin was pale gold; the perfect shade to go with his nearly-white hair. Pin-straight and shining, those silken lengths framed his sensual face like curtains around priceless art; flowing over his shoulders to tease his flushed nipples with their eager ends. He cocked his head and his hair slipped across his face in yet another caress. Cat-green eyes stared at me curiously through that gleaming veil.

  “Nice to meet you.” I pulled my hand away. “I'll just be going now.”

  “You didn't give me your name,” he chided as he blinked slowly. “How naughty.”

  “Mara,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Mara,” Cyprian whispered my name as he reclaimed my hand and twirled me around in a dance-like maneuver. “You can't leave without telling me what you think of the room. Do you like playing with fire, naughty Mara?”

  “No, actually.” I pulled away again. “I was disturbed by the branding irons.”

  “Burns and brands aren't for the faint of heart.” He nodded sagely as he slipped around me and posed in the doorway; effectively blocking my escape. Cyprian leaned against the frame so that his shirt draped in another way; showcasing the line of his hip where it disappeared into his leather pants. His lips parted and he stared down my body as if he could see straight through my clothing. “If fire isn't to your liking, what is? What are you looking for, Mara?”

  I stared at Cyprian, but not because he was attractive. He had a strange aura. There was a lot of lust in it, unsurprisingly, but beneath the red, there was a mysterious aubergine and the walnut brown of determination. But it wasn't the colors that struck me as strange and no; he wasn't the Aura Man. There was something else about his aura; something supernatural about the way the colors pulsed and reached outward.

  His aura was trying to touch me.

  I stared at it in shock; the deep ruby tendril hovering in the air before me and then curling around me like a lasso. Cyprian was trying to influence me. I'd never had that happen before, and he got further than he should of because of my surprise. One of the undulating aura fingers touched me, and my aura flared as desire shot through my body. I was instantly wet and shivering with need as I'd never been before. Cyprian's eyes flashed in triumph for a second, and mine narrowed.

  Not only had his aura connected with mine and shifted my emotions—a trick I'd thought was unique to me—but it was also brightening while mine started to fade. Fear la
nced through me. Was he the man responsible for the Gray? Was he trying to bleed away my colors now? But no, my aura wasn't turning gray. In fact, it was replenishing itself as his fed on it.

  That's what he was doing; feeding.

  I stared down at his long-reaching aura and nearly blasted it back to him, but I thought twice. And believe me; thinking about anything other than sex at that moment was difficult. Cyprian was damn good at what he did; he'd truly found his calling. But my anger cleared my head and allowed me to think. He was only touching the lust in my aura; lust that he had created, to begin with. My other emotions didn't interest him. This guy was all about sex. So, he couldn't be the one behind the Gray. But he could be connected to the person who was; the Aura Man. More and more, I was beginning to believe that the man with the bright aura was the orchestrator of the Gray. At the very least, he was connected to it. Perhaps he fed on emotions as this man did. Perhaps they were brothers; one fed on lust and one fed on everything else. I wasn't sure, but I was fairly certain that Cyprian was somehow involved with the Aura Man.