by Lissa Kasey
He stopped at home to clean up. A glance in the mirror said he had maybe forty-eight hours before the change would be forced on him. He’d almost changed just to track the killer last night. They’d been close enough he’d nearly caught the scent. Although they had dogs for that, specially trained ones. But the dogs had lost the trail fairly quickly, stopping in the middle of the street when they lost the smell. No sewers in sight, so the only way out would have been to fly.
Shane thought about it most of the day, even dozed for an hour or so in his office thinking and reasoning through it. They’d never gotten a flying A-M to work. No matter how many strains of it the scientists mutated and exposed people to. It could have wings, but it couldn’t support the weight of a human and therefore couldn’t fly, sort of like an ostrich couldn’t fly. Being A-M just meant the makeup of the body changed; the body mass never did. The ISS had been studying the mutations for half a century with no records of successful flight. There were fish-like mutations that could swim, some that even developed gills, but flight was a much more complicated mess. What had begun with a plague had spawned further testing, mutations, and manipulations. But man was never happy with anything less than total domination or destruction.
He’d returned to the office still contemplating the issue. A knock on his door woke him out of a light nap. “Yeah?” he called.
“Castwell and Jones are bringing the warehouse owner in. Should be here in twenty. Also, got a guy out front, one Takeshi Ino, PI from down South, says that he wants to talk to you about a missing person.” Page looked like she’d gotten sleep, though Shane knew she hadn’t. Maybe it was because she wasn’t A-M. Or maybe it was just the well-applied makeup. The department had been trying to hook them up for years, her a single mom, him the rough detective who made his work the focus of his life. But they were more like brother and sister. He adored her and her kid, would help either of them in a heartbeat, but he’d never see Page as the sanctuary most cops preferred to go home to. She was as rough around the edges as he was. She just hid it better.
He sighed and dry-washed his face before straightening up and trying to look presentable. A PI from the South? What the fuck was he doing up here? The North wouldn’t deport even known criminals to the South.
“Send him in.”
The man who walked into his office a minute later could have been Misaki’s older brother. Despite the dark hair, their eyes were the same shade of pale blue, though the man’s pupils were black, and they had a similar face, the sort of pretty that many Asian men could be with their high cheekbones and thin faces. The man had the build of a soldier, taller than the whore, probably close to six feet, broad in the shoulder, and he stood ramrod straight. The movement of his body was graceful, not dancer-fluid like Aki, but deadly like Shane knew many an assassin to be in the war ages ago. He stood and offered his hand like he was supposed to. The man took it with a firm grip. An ugly feeling of unrest settled in the pit of Shane’s stomach.
“Sit.” Shane motioned to the chair. “Detective Page said something about a missing person. Mr. Ino, right?”
“Detective Ino,” he corrected. “I’m told you’re the sergeant of MP for City M, but they keep dragging you to homicide because you have a knack for solving the bloodiest of crimes. I’ve been hired to find a gentleman’s son but need permission from a City M sergeant-level detective like yourself to access missing-person files, John Does, and the facial recognition cameras that City M installed a few years ago.”
That was a lot of information for anybody to have about anyone. “I’d have to know who you are looking for and why you need this information. If the kid doesn’t want to be found and he’s of age, I can’t give you that access.” In reality it meant that Shane would be finding the kid before Ino had a chance to.
“He would be eighteen, but it’s really just so his family knows he’s alive and well. He’s been out of contact with them for some time, and they fear for his safety. They had a tiff, if you get my meaning. Fathers can be hotheaded. Young men can be stubborn and willful. But the family is genuinely worried.”
Except Shane wasn’t buying it. He’d heard enough sob stories only to find the reality was some asshole wanted their kid dragged back to teach them a lesson about not obeying daddy. “If you leave the details and profile, I’ll look them over when I have a chance and get back to you.”
“I’d appreciate haste in this matter, Detective.”
“I’ll be as quick as I can. The City is dealing with a serial killer, Mr. Ino. Someone murdering children. You must realize that takes precedence.”
“If you’d just sign off on this, I’d be out of your hair.”
“I’m sure you would be. But I’ll look over the file first.” Shane stood, and after a moment, the man took the hint and did as well. He almost hesitated to ask, but finally said, “You don’t happen to have a younger brother, do you, Detective Ino?”
The man frowned, a tightness forming around his eyes. “All of my family is dead. Have been for a very long time, as I survived the plague. I heard that you were also a survivor.”
So the man was an A-M. Given that the hair had stood up on Shane’s neck the second the man walked in the door, it made sense. “I apologize. You just reminded me of someone. Thank you for stopping by. I’ll have someone call you as soon as I review the information.” Shane ushered the man out of his office, sat back down, and stared at the file, a little terrified that he’d open it to find a picture of Aki inside. He knew very little of Aki’s past, only that the kid had been thrown out by his family and dragged off to a containment camp that he’d spent some time in before escaping to the North.
Page appeared in the doorway again. “He was asking for a lot. Chief told everyone to defer to you for this one. Giving anyone the recognition rights should really come from government up top, not us.”
“Yeah,” Shane grumbled. “Missing kid, my ass.” He opened the folder and stared at the picture, a little startled that he did recognize the kid, but it wasn’t Aki. “Find out all you can about Southern Senator Cameron Michaelson and his son Cameron Michaelson Jr. Also look up Mr. Ino. I think there’s more to him than he’s saying. While you’re at it, I want anything you can find on Misaki Itou.”
“The psi companion?”
Shane nodded. Time to get some real records of Aki’s past. Was he related to the detective at all? Why had the detective shown up now of all times? Was he related to the serial case? Did that mean Misaki was too? He’d lived long enough to know that coincidences were rarely just that.
“Just media bullshit or you want dirt?”
“Everything. Good, bad, and ugly. Tax records, spending habits, vices, anything you can get your hands on.” Shane glared at the picture of a very normal-looking Candy. No colored hair or makeup. Instead, his hair was an ordinary brown, and he seemed to be just a pretty teenage boy. Yeah, nothing about this was tingling through his bones as positive. How much did Aki know about Cameron Michaelson Jr., aka Candy? Child of a senator turned whore. Damn. Any senator would think it probably better to wipe the kid off the face of the earth than risk the scandal. Then there was the detective. Did Aki know Ino? Itou and Ino were similar names. Maybe Aki had changed his to escape the family?
He glanced at the stack of files that represented the serial case he was working on. Maybe there was a correlation. After all, the more powerful a man was, the more secrets he had to hide. It was time to look into the backgrounds of the fathers, not just what they showed the world, but anything shoved in the back of the closet. Shane picked up the phone and dialed a hacker friend he knew. Time to sweep out all the dust bunnies and put those little suckers up to the light.
SINCE AKI didn’t have to start work until just after 8:00 p.m., he went back to bed. His new shoes sat on the pillow beside his head. The warmer weather sliding through their single window had Aki stripping down to nothing but lacy undies and a single thin blanket. Nightmares made him crawl into Candy’s bed to wrap himself ar
ound the younger man. Candy only grunted in reply and fitted himself to Aki. And finally surrounded by a pale shade of Candy’s normally bright colorful clouds, Aki slept.
The pounding on the door startled him awake only a few hours later. He laid there a moment longer, contemplating opening his eyes even as Candy began to pull away. Aki pried his eyes open, blinking away the light just as Candy opened the door of their room to Detective Taylor. Manny stood behind him in the hall, but Jack stepped into the room and closed the door. Pink colored his face while Candy stood in front of him in nothing but a pair of tiny white undies with little red hearts on them. The detective looked up at the ceiling instead of at either of them.
“I’d like to speak to Aki if he’s awake,” Jack said to the wall.
“I’m up,” Aki grumbled, yanking himself up to sit on Candy’s warm bed.
Jack glanced Aki’s way once, then found the ceiling interesting again. “Maybe you two could put some clothes on?”
Aki looked down to check—yeah, everything was covered. Barely. He smiled; his undies were lacy and mostly see-through. “We’re whores, Jack. If we weren’t comfortable with our bodies, we’d be in the wrong job.” He motioned to his own empty bed. “Sit. You should know I already told McNaughton everything I saw, which wasn’t much.”
Detective Taylor carefully perched on the edge of Aki’s bed like he’d rather be dropped into a pit of vipers. Candy disappeared into the bathroom for a minute but hadn’t added any clothes when he returned. He glared at the clock—which read just after six p.m.—then dropped down onto his bed. Aki plopped into his lap, resting his head on Candy’s shoulder. No use going back to sleep now, but neither of them was ready to begin the day yet.
“Are you two lovers?” Jack asked after a moment of trying to find something else interesting to look at, his cheeks flushed bright with embarrassment, or perhaps lust.
“No,” Candy and Aki replied at the same time. There wasn’t anything sexual between them. Intimacy, yes. Sex, no. “Does it matter?” Aki asked.
“I’m just not used to seeing young men so close.”
Close. Hmm. “I get it. You’re from the South, right? How’d you get way up here to City M with that shyness in your blood? I know the road through J and K is full of whorehouses with much less decorum than ours. Heard they do live floor shows where anyone can hop onstage and participate. Orgy-like. Slap on a condom, find a hole, and jump on for a ride.” Jack had probably turned a blind eye to them or condemned them the whole way up while quoting scriptures or something. The highway was filled with murderers, thieves, and whores for a reason: to keep the South in the south.
“Girls. Not boys.”
“Not true. There are plenty of boys working down there just like me. The prettier the boy, the more money he makes. Ones who can fool a man into thinking he’s a girl? Those are gold.” Aki pointed to himself. Candy chuckled and laid his head against Aki’s, falling back to sleep almost instantly. The kid could sleep through an earthquake and had before. “Never had a pretty boy, Detective?”
“You let him touch you. Don’t you get stuff from him?” Jack sidestepped the topic.
“Not like with most people. It’s manageable. No transfer of memories or thoughts. There are a handful of people in the world like that.” The man who’d trained Aki to be the whore he also had that weird ability to keep things to himself. But somehow Aki couldn’t imagine Paris ever having the bright clouds and happy sunshine Candy did. No, Paris was monotone rainclouds. Peaceful still, just in a different way.
Jack sat quietly long enough that Aki dozed a little. “Do you ever get a day off?”
Aki sighed. “We all get time off. But when we’re not working, we don’t get paid.” And not getting paid made the contract balance grow larger. In truth, Aki liked having a schedule to his life. He never took days off unless it was preplanned that he had something to do, like their doctor visits or a trip into town to shop.
“And you need shoes, right?” He picked up the pair McNaughton had bought and glared at them. “What if I paid for a day of your time?”
“Depends on what you would require. Condoms only cover so much.”
“I’d totally let him do me,” Candy said without opening his eyes. “Bet he’s hung. Has really pretty lips too.”
Aki smacked his roommate’s bare thigh. “Behave, you’re embarrassing the detective.”
Jack got up and headed for the door. He paused, his back to the companions. “McNaughton doesn’t see you as a person, you know.”
“I’m not a person, Detective Taylor. I’m a whore. The faster you learn the difference, the easier you’ll find life is to navigate here in City M. The Hidden Gem is the most popular gentleman’s club in the region. Officials, cops, even the VP of the United Northern Cities has been here a time or two. The food is good, the alcohol top-notch, and the company unmatchable. We are not people. We are purchasable items.”
“Is that all you want to be?”
“It’s not about want. It’s about necessity. I’m a psi. I’m gay. I like dressing like a girl. I came from the South. Ran for my life, only to starve here because no one would give me a chance. Everyone still fears psis. This place provides shelter, food, clothing, and family. What else do I need?” Aki looked away and glared out the window. Anything else he was missing he’d deal with on his own. The detective didn’t have the right to press for more.
Jack nodded like it all made sense. “I’ll talk to Mr. Rothnow about scheduling a block of your time, then. Good day to you both.” He left, closing the door quietly behind him.
“He’s a bit of a stick in the mud,” Candy commented. “Bet he’s never paid for sex in his life. Which means he’s never had really good sex in his life. Missing out.”
The man was an enigma, really. Was Taylor worried someone would find out he didn’t care or something? Aki shook his head. He was a psi. No one cared. McNaughton had been buzzing around for two years and showed more interest during a five-minute hand job than Detective Taylor had in two conversations. McNaughton never dropped his hand or looked away from Aki’s psi eyes.
“I don’t get him. It’s like he is only interested in helping because he has to be.”
Candy sighed and stretched. “If Bart gives him the day he wants, show him a good time. Bet he’ll loosen up right quick after one of Aki’s legendary polishes.” He wriggled his eyebrows at Aki. “He could loosen me up right quick too. Did you see the package he was smuggling? Do you think he’s as large as the big DM?” DM was Detective McNaughton. Most clients were labeled by initials or initials of titles. “Maybe DM will finally ask for a three-way with me and you.”
Aki shook his head, not really picturing how that would work. “I can tell him you’re interested in a good fuck if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what you want.”
Maybe. “Can’t do that anyway,” Aki grumbled.
“Condoms and the careful placement of clothing would solve that problem for you. I’d wrap myself in plastic if I had to, just to get bent over a chair by that man. Bet he could hold you down better than Paris even.” He leaned over and kissed Aki’s forehead. “Now, are we showering together, or am I getting all the hot water today?”
“Sharing.” And just like that, it was time to start the day.
SIX
THE EVENING passed quietly as most did—numerous faceless men pleasured, served, or scheduled. Candy borrowed a skirt and some heels this time to work a table full of business executives. The money was good. No one touched when they weren’t supposed to, but Aki did get pulled into a lot of laps and fondled countless men. Not really a hardship. The group seemed more entertained by Candy and Aki touching each other. So they played the game, flirted with each other, stole kisses, and dry humped in passing, which had everyone cheering. Every bottle of alcohol they brought was consumed with fervor. Enough food was ordered to feed an army. Yeah, they were going to make bank on this one.
Bart pulled Aki aside ju
st after the group had been served dinner. “Detective Taylor asked for a day of your time. I calculated what you normally make in an evening and doubled it. But he expects you to be ready tomorrow afternoon at two. He did promise you’d be back in time for the bonfire tomorrow night.” The fire would be the first of the season since winter had finally lost its grip. Once a month from May to October, the four brothels in the area took over the nearby park with a bonfire, samples of their world-renowned cuisine, and a chance to dance with an available companion. Each party brought in new business and enough revenue to justify a night of closing the doors to the actual brothel.
Aki sighed. He would have rather rested for the party since he’d be up all night dancing and flirting. “I really don’t know what he wants. He doesn’t seem to like men or psis. And I didn’t see anything useful from touching that damn shirt.”
“I did discuss with him the limits of your services, and he was insistent that he would not be needing you in that way. I also emphasized that he couldn’t force you to use your psi abilities no matter how much he paid. Would you like me to send Manny with you tomorrow?”
“No. It’s really early for any of us to be up.” And Manny was head of security, so he was there every night from open to close. “I can handle the detective. He’s not nearly as intimidating as McNaughton, and I’ve been dancing around the Irishman for years.”
Bart nodded. “He said to wear whatever you want but stressed that you should be acceptable for normal company. Nothing that would get you arrested for indecent exposure.”
Aki laughed. What sort of guy did Taylor think he was? The super-short skirts and glitter were a uniform. Sure, Aki liked to dress pretty. He loved heels and skirts, but he had more than just the super-short skirts and see-through clothes he wore at the Gem. Did they even have brothels in the South? Aki couldn’t remember anything about his time there except for the concentration camp. It was all a blank, like he’d never really existed before then. Sometimes random memories popped up. Facts, really, no faces, places, or names.