by I. T. Lucas
Amanda dropped the pen and leaned back in her chair. “Three would definitely be better than one but still not conclusive. Besides, how do you propose we do it? Bring potential Dormants to hang out in Nathalie’s café at the keep?”
“Kian would never allow it. But we can bring the immortals here on a volunteer basis. Once a month they will come and spend a day in the lab, or even just a few hours, administering tests. We will have each subject tested by three different immortals. Actually, make it four, because we need both sexes to test each one, so two and two.”
Amanda grinned. “Did I already tell you that you’re brilliant? That will also solve our problem of finding an assistant. Who needs employees when we can have volunteers?”
“Right. But do you think they will agree? Most have jobs.”
“It all depends on how we sell the idea. They would jump through hoops for a chance of finding their destined mates.”
“Yeah… no. Even desperate people will not buy the odds.”
“Hah, but throw in the Fates, and suddenly the odds look better.”
Syssi still wasn’t convinced anyone would agree to volunteer their time based on those odds. On the other hand, as unscientific as it was, the Fates needed to be factored in. She still remembered the day she’d met Kian.
So many things had had to happen to bring that about.
And their reaction to each other…
From the first moment their eyes met, they’d both known on a visceral level that they were meant for each other, fighting the inevitable because logic had dictated that things like that just didn’t happen. Neither had believed in destiny and yet had no choice but surrender to it.
But convincing a bunch of skeptical immortals to put their trust in fate wouldn’t be easy. “We need to sweeten the deal.”
“How?”
“Arranging for get-togethers. Throw the testers in with the Dormants in an informal setting and let nature take its course. It can be in the guise of a lecture about paranormal phenomena with a reception following. We just need to find a place to hold those meetings.”
Amanda looked optimistic for the first time in months. “That’s not a problem. Kian can give us access to one of the large conference rooms in one of the office buildings we own.”
“Then it’s settled. The only problem now is to find someone to manage that. Neither you nor I can take on more work.”
“Right.”
Chapter 39: Losham
Drink in hand, Losham sat at the bar and observed his clientele. Two weeks since opening and the club was doing great.
He’d aptly named it Allure.
Allure Los Angeles was the first in the chain, with Allure San Francisco opening next month. New York was the largest and fanciest of the three and would take two more months to complete. After that Losham planned on expanding the chain to Europe. Paris, London, Monte Carlo, and maybe Hamburg. He wasn’t sure about that one. When those in Europe were up, he planned to open one in Tokyo and one in Singapore. Not that he expected to find any immortals there. Those were purely for profit.
Naturally, no one here knew Losham was the owner. He came under the guise of a prospective member with only Rami, his trusty assistant, to accompany him. Losham’s bodyguards stayed behind in Las Vegas.
By now Navuh must’ve suspected him of a gambling problem, and Losham played the part. It was the perfect excuse for the trips he was making to various spots around the globe. Wherever there was a fancy casino nearby, he was good.
Navuh was convinced that Losham hopped from one casino to the next to avoid suspicion since he always won. It was partially true. With his eidetic memory and quick mind, Losham couldn’t lose in a card game. Sometimes he lost on purpose. He had to if he wanted to keep coming back.
“It’s even better than I imagined,” Rami said.
“I agree. I’m sure you can’t wait to check out the third floor.”
Rami blushed. “I don’t know if I should.” He leaned closer. “Because of the special security feed.”
Losham clapped his assistant’s back. “Don’t worry. The third floor is not included in the special surveillance.”
Rami’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re most welcome.”
The third floor had been inspired by Rami. It was dedicated to gay males and was a huge hit. The second floor was dedicated to gay females, but for some reason none had bought a membership yet. But then the club was new, and there were many memberships still to be sold. Besides, if it proved not as successful, Losham could always find a new purpose for the space.
The beauty of the operation was that it was all run by unsuspecting humans. The only immortals on the premises occupied a separate room in the administrative section and monitored the special feed. If someone flashed a pair of fangs in one of the private rooms, the two would be on him in seconds.
“Mr. Domingues, are you ready for your tour, sir?” A young man wearing a club uniform offered his hand. “My name is Logan, and I’m going to be your guide.”
Losham shook what he was offered while scrutinizing the guy’s appearance. One of his requirements was that the uniforms should be professionally dry cleaned, ironed, and delivered daily. He wanted the club’s staff to look meticulous.
In addition to the big name tag every club employee had pinned to the pocket of his or her button-down shirt, they also wore a uniform to indicate their function and make them clearly identifiable to the clientele. All except security wore black pants and black ties, but the color of their satin dress shirts varied. Red for the guides, electric blue for the bartenders, purple for servers, yellow for the valets, and so on.
Security wore all black accented by a red tie and a red belt.
After his many visits to Las Vegas, Losham decided on identical uniforms for male and female employees. The revealing costumes Vegas casinos had their female workers wear were cheesy and distasteful.
Losham’s clubs were all about elegance and style. The debauchery happened behind the closed doors of the various sections dedicated to the different kinks his clients wished to engage in.
There was no reason to expose the general vanilla crowd who comprised the majority of the members to things of that nature.
As he’d suspected, there was a need for a sex club catering to the non-kink crowd. People with money who wanted anonymous, casual sex in a safe and supervised environment. No one was going to be victimized in Losham’s clubs unless they wished to be—in writing, and with a club employee witnessing the signing of the agreement.
Obviously, the signing of the contract was also video recorded.
Not a moral call on his part, Losham couldn’t have cared less, it was just good business. People were getting what they paid for and that included safety.
“Follow me, sir,” the guide said.
Leaving Rami behind for his own tour of the third floor, Losham pushed to his feet and smiled at the guide. “Lead the way.”
Chapter 40: Eva
Eva looked at the address her snitch had provided, then glanced again at the building the club was housed in. Not bad. For the most part, sex clubs hid behind façades posing as warehouses, or private gates leading to mansions with long driveways. She'd followed a few suspected cheaters to those.
This one had a big neon sign. A single word—Allure.
Maybe her snitch had been pulling her leg, and this was a regular club. The only thing special about it was that it seemed to be geared toward those with money. Parked across the street, Eva watched as a Mercedes S-class Cabriolet pulled up to the valet station. The uniformed valet opened the driver’s door and helped out a woman in an elegant cocktail dress.
Shit. She’d been misinformed. Her slutty costume, overdone makeup, and fake big boobs didn’t belong in there. She looked like a hooker.
Eva waited until another car pulled up, a Ferrari this time. A man in a suit got out. This was a high-class joint, and she was dressed all wrong. The best she could do was
to remove the bra with the fake boobs in it, but then she would have to go braless. Every contour of her nipples was going to be outlined by the stretchy fabric of her short dress. The makeup had to stay on. It was part of her disguise.
Are you sure it’s a sex club? she texted her snitch.
Sure. It’s new and costly. Did you call to reserve a tour?
No.
So how do you expect to get in?
Like she always did, by charming the bouncer. Young, attractive women were seldom turned away from places like that. This one should be no different.
Hopefully.
Why hadn’t she checked it out on the Internet before getting dressed?
The answer was simple. Eva had been eager to be done with it. Seduce the piece of shit; take him to some hotel and dispose of him in a way that would look like he dropped dead from natural causes.
It had taken her over a month to track that particular scumbag. Not only was he a key player in a slave operation that dealt in trafficking women for sex, this one in particular went after underage girls. The worm was personally responsible for destroying God knew how many Tessas.
The question was, what was a lowlife like him doing in a fancy sex club?
Wasn’t sampling his merchandise enough for him?
Maybe he was looking for potential clients. Yeah, that made sense. The scum was trying to make some deals on the side.
Eva lifted the phone off her lap and typed the club’s name into her Internet browser.
A singles’ club. A place to meet interesting, quality people. An unforgettable experience, it said.
I bet.
It didn’t mention sex anywhere.
Maybe that was what the appointment was for.
Oh, well. She was already here, wearing a disguise her own daughter wouldn’t have recognized her in, and her mark was inside. It was up to the powers that be whether the owner or manager would let her in without an appointment.
Luckily, the car rental company had been out of everything other than luxury class. Showing up with a decent car would modify the effect of her slutty outfit. That combined with a show of condescending attitude should do the trick. Just another nouveau riche with bad fashion taste.
She pulled up to the valet, and took the hand he offered to help her out of the car. With her four-inch heels, she was taller than him and could look down her nose at him. It wasn’t that she wanted to impress the valet, but there were cameras at the front entrance, and someone was monitoring the new arrivals.
“Thank you,” she said quietly with her back turned to the camera.
The guy cast her a puzzled glance, and she winked at him before sauntering inside.
As the doorman opened the way for her, Eva stepped in, entering an elegant vestibule where a young woman wearing the club’s uniform sat behind a desk.
The snitch must have been high on something. No way a female receptionist in a sex club was dressed in a pair of slacks, a dress shirt that was buttoned all the way up, and a tie. A glance at her footwear revealed more of the same. A pair of conservative pumps with two-inch, chunky heels.
“Welcome to Allure, madam, please take a seat.” The girl pointed to one of the armchairs facing her desk. “Can I have your name?” She opened a leather-bound appointment book.
Eva waved a dismissive hand at the book. “I don’t have an appointment. I didn’t realize I needed one. Can you just pencil me in?”
The girl smiled like the professional she was. “We are fully booked for tonight, but I can check with my manager. If he is free, I’m sure he would love to give you a tour.”
Eva lifted her face to the camera mounted in the corner behind the receptionist and flashed it one of her sexy come-hither smiles.
“A client walked in without an appointment. She didn’t know one was needed. Is there any way we can accommodate her?”
Eva crossed her legs and pushed out her enhanced cleavage. It couldn’t hurt to flaunt her assets.
“Have her fill out the confidentiality agreement and then the questionnaire. I’ll come down when she’s done.” Eva heard the guy on the other side.
“Yes, of course, sir.” The receptionist put down the receiver and smiled at Eva. “My manager would love to take you on a tour. But first you need to sign a confidentiality agreement, and after that there is a lengthy questionnaire that usually takes about half an hour to fill out.”
“That’s fine. I’m not in a hurry.” Not true, her mark might leave before she was done with all that nonsense. On the positive side, the tour would give her the perfect excuse to look for the scumbag all over the place. The picture she had of him was five years old. Hopefully, he hadn’t changed much.
When she signed the confidentiality agreement without really reading it, the receptionist asked for her driver’s license and authenticated her signature. She then pulled out a thick folder and wrote Eva’s fake name on the label.
“I couldn’t help notice that you only skimmed the document you’ve just signed, so I’ll sum it up to prevent future misunderstandings. From now on everything you read or see in this club is confidential, including this questionnaire.” She tapped the folder. “Breaching the agreement may result in a lawsuit and significant monetary loss. Do you still want to proceed?”
Eva waved a hand. “Yes, of course I want to proceed. Give me that thing and a pen so I can get it done as quickly as I can. I wasn’t expecting paperwork when I came here tonight.”
The woman nodded with a polite smile. “Naturally.” She pushed out from her chair and walked over to one of the doors lining the walls of the reception room. Opening the way for Eva, she ushered her into a small office. “You’ll have complete privacy here, and you’re welcome to use the beverage bar.” She walked over to the cabinet and opened the door, showing Eva a fully stocked fridge.
“When you’re done with the questionnaire, please press this button.” She pointed to a box with an intercom. “And I’ll inform my manager that you’re ready.”
“Thank you, darling.” Eva sauntered over to the chair.
“My pleasure.” The receptionist backed out from the room and closed the door quietly as if it was a medical clinic and not a club.
Eva made herself comfortable in the roomy wing chair, picked up a clipboard from the side table and opened the file. She wasn’t fooled by the promise of complete privacy. Somewhere up on the ceiling or on the walls was a camera. Probably more than one. Her facial expressions while reading the questionnaire should reflect the person she was pretending to be.
Fortunately, Eva was a superb actress.
Chapter 41: Jackson
“Is Tessa coming over tonight?” Gordon asked.
Jackson nodded.
“So I guess it’s just Vlad and me. Again.” His friend walked out, the chimes on the door jingling long after he was gone.
They should remove them. The chimes had been necessary when Nathalie and her father had worked in the café and lived in the apartment upstairs. She’d put them up because of her father’s dementia. They’d alerted her whenever he’d tried to sneak out. The old man had gotten lost a few times.
Terrible thing to have a brain that’s not working right and nothing can be done about it.
Jackson sat on the edge of one of the bar stools, watching the darkened street through the café’s big front window. Tessa should be arriving any moment.
For the past week, she’d been coming to the café every evening. Sometimes she would also come during lunch to pick up a to-go order for her coworkers. A couple of evenings she’d come a little before closing and hung out with Jackson and his friends, the rest of the time Jackson had invited her to come over later and spend time with him alone.
Tessa was getting more comfortable, but he was making no progress uncovering what had happened to her. She’d deflected every time he steered the topic of conversation to something she’d suspected would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer.
Damn it.
H
e should just thrall her. Get the information straight out of her head so he could find the bastard who’d ruined her life and end him. What Jackson imagined happened to Tessa kept mushrooming in his head, until he started rethinking his inability to kill.
But as tempting as it was, Jackson couldn’t thrall her. Getting into Tessa’s head and going through her memories without her permission was like raping her brain. It had already happened to her body. He wasn’t going to do it to her mind.
The more he thought about it, the more certain he became of that. Otherwise, her aversion to men wouldn't have been justified.
Yesterday had been the first time Jackson had managed to convince her to come up to his room and watch a movie. They’d sat on opposite sides of the couch with a cushion between them like a couple of second graders.
Just as she’d asked, Jackson was doing his best to treat Tessa the same as he treated his guy friends, save for the crude jokes and farting competitions.
Not an easy feat since Tessa was beautiful and smart and fun, and he was attracted to her. The situation was made even worse by his unexplained self-imposed celibacy. Jackson just couldn’t bring himself to have sex with another girl, and not for lack of trying. But none appealed to him anymore, even those he’d hooked up with before and enjoyed.
Thank the merciful Fates, Jackson was so far removed from the original gods that his sex drive was more controllable than that of immortal males whose blood was purer. Or at least that was what he believed.
The thing was, he and Tessa weren’t in a relationship. Jackson didn’t owe her anything, certainly not some misguided fidelity. He should’ve felt free to do as he pleased.
But he didn’t.
Damn it.
As he saw Tessa’s Prius slide into a parking spot one storefront over, Jackson opened the door and walked out to greet her.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said as he opened the door for her.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman. Just say thank you.” He offered her his hand.