by Logan Fox
Another whisper of pale fabric: the labyrinth.
Shit.
She forced her legs faster, glancing over her shoulder at the gigantic hulk of the Fox Pit rearing into the night behind her. A few lights twinkled from the walls but in a demure, if-you’re-an-airplane-don’t-fly-into-us kind of way. The garden didn’t benefit at all from that illumination, and tonight the moon hadn’t bothered to make an appearance. The result was a black lawn that stretched right up to the black walls of the black labyrinth.
Did the person inside know the way like Seth knew the way? Or was trying to make your way through a labyrinth in the pitch of night another thing rich people enjoyed doing?
She stuck her head around the corner of the first hedge wall. A flash of white. Her heart froze for a moment, bringing her body to a halt. They’d been close: close enough for her to see a blurry profile that had to be that of a man or a very manly woman. There was something familiar about the way they moved.
God, don’t let it be her wolf.
Pearl sidled after them, carefully peering around the next corner. Her breath caught, and she jerked herself back, heart thudding painfully in time with her pounding head.
Her mystery man had come to a stop just beyond the corner. He was leaning against one of the random statues that dotted the interior of the labyrinth — perhaps as a way to help you find your way, or perhaps purposefully situated to throw you off — and had just pulled something from the pocket of his robe.
The robe, it turned out, was a dressing gown with the initials F.P. embroidered on the pocket.
The man, it turned out, was Ethan.
Pearl slunk back a few steps, determined to head back to the villa when she heard the snick of a Zippo. A few seconds later, cigarette smoke tickled her nose.
“Glad you’re still up. Can you talk?”
His voice made her jump, and she pressed a hand over her stomach to will down a sudden wave of nausea. Had he just spoken to her? Did he know she was here? A flood of heat rushed over her, making her shiver violently when it left her. The walls of the labyrinth had cut off most of the wind, but the night was still cold and her little yellow dress did nothing to protect her against it.
“Yeah, I’m in.” A brief pause punctuated only by her knocking heart. “‘Cos it’s fucking impossible to get out without someone seeing you. I’m in the… their maze thing. In the garden.” A pause, a fast exhalation. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Got samples of the dresses the girls wear, but just looking at them I’m positive they’ll be a match.”
Another pause.
Pearl frowned. Who the hell was Ethan talking to in the middle of the night, in the middle of a labyrinth?
“Still poking around, but my money’s on the owner of this joint. This Stark guy’s a real piece of work. You’d like him, Captain. Misogynistic asshole with more money to burn than I can wrap my head around.”
If she hadn’t seen the shadows of the man’s face, she’d almost not believe this was Ethan: his voice sounded the same, but he spoke as if he was trying to get the words out of his mouth as fast as possible; it made sense to get a covert phone call out of the way as soon as possible.
Pearl’s lips parted, her frown deepening. She shook her head and clutched herself harder.
“Nothing concrete yet. I’ll try get the fabric samples to you in the next day or two. Don’t wanna draw attention, you know?”
Another forceful exhalation, a hard laugh.
“Fuck, you should see it, Captain. They got them all wearing these little dresses and ears and shit. And the shit they do? It’s fucked up. And I have to watch, you know, to make sure they don’t get foreign objects shoved up them — unless that’s on the menu. Fuck, you should see the menu.”
Pearl’s chest grew tight. Her hands were ice-cold, her fingers stalactites. She began shuddering, partly from the cold, but partly from the realization that she was overhearing a conversation that she definitely shouldn’t be overhearing. Probably the reason Ethan had come all the way to the labyrinth in the middle of the night to make the call, right?
And what had she done? She’d gone and followed him. And now she had this bug crawling around in her brain that would make it impossible to forget what she’d just heard.
“I’m still trying to get down everyone’s alibis for the night. Waiting for someone to slip. Stark won’t; he’s as oily as they come. Trying to get the girls to spill something, but they don’t want to lose their jobs so they’re clamming up big time.”
Alibis? For what? What the hell was he going on about?
There was a longer pause this time, and then Ethan’s voice dropped. She heard a scrape as if he was extinguishing his cigarette under his heel.
“Listen, Captain.” Ethan let out a heavy sigh. “I think there were more. Turns out their contracts are for a month. Some stay longer, but not most. Some don’t make it that long, and there’ve been plenty of those.”
There was another scrape. Pearl strained her ears, wondering if Ethan had just dropped his voice too low for her to hear.
“Yeah, let’s hope not. But where there’re three bodies, there are usually more. ‘Kay. Yeah, soonest.”
And then silence. Pearl stiffened.
Bodies? Dead bodies? Dead bodies here?
A rustle of leaves was her only warning. Pearl swung around and darted behind a statue of Aphrodite, crowding against the shrubbery while her thigh and upper arm pressed against the frozen marble.
Ethan strode past seconds later, not even pausing. She watched his white robe disappear around the corner as he exited the labyrinth and swooned against the statue in relief.
Dead bodies. Alibis.
Ethan was a cop. And he was here, undercover, investigating a murder. Murders, plural.
Holy fucking shit.
Pearl waited until her heartbeat had simmered down to something approaching normal and then ducked out of the labyrinth. She raced up the lawn, cursing her curiosity and the headache — lessened but still ferocious — that made thinking such a task right now.
She had to leave. She couldn’t be here, where people were being murdered. Girls — where girls were being murdered. Were they the unsuccessful ones? The ones that didn’t please Tanner or Caden or their wolves? Or did the ‘menu’ Ethan had referenced include an all-in-one snuff package where you could kill the girl when you’d had your way with her?
Grass clung to her feet, slowing her. Nausea brought her pounding steps to a halt. Pearl fell to her knees and puked violently onto the grass, her stomach contracting painfully around every retch. She fell onto her side, struggling against a surge of tears before they ganged up and overpowered her.
How long she lay on the lawn, crying and sobbing into the grass, she couldn’t tell. But when a pair of hands slid under her and hoisted her up, she fought them with what little strength she had left.
Until she found Seth’s eyes.
Dawn was breaking far off in the east, and a grayness had swept over the villa — leeching life and color from everything. Everything except Seth’s eyes: because they hadn’t had any life or color in them to begin with.
Dead bodies. Alibis.
Pearl peered at the twinkling lights on her bedroom ceiling through slitted eyes, her head still aching. Seth had put her to bed four hours ago, but her eyes had refused to stay shut. Instead, she’d spent the time rehashing Ethan’s entire overhead conversation. Trying to remember every syllable the man in the white robe had uttered to his ‘Captain’.
There was some kind of commotion going on in the den: Gia had sprung out of bed half an hour ago and Pearl could hear the girl’s excited chatter through the crack in the bedroom door. Other voices too: Seth’s, Opal’s, Morgan’s and Ivy’s. For once, it seemed, all the girls in the den were awake at the same time.
Friday.
She’d been here for less than a week, but her body felt like it had aged years. Her joints were stiff, her throat raw, and her head… She’d have preferred if it belonge
d to someone else right then.
Her door opened.
“You up, kitten?”
Pearl turned over so her back was to Seth. The last thing she wanted was see his ebony eyes and wonder how much he knew about dead bodies and alibis.
“I’d let you sleep, God knows you need it, but you’d have to be sick or dying to get out of Friday brunch.”
“Then I’m sick,” Pearl muttered.
The mattress bowed under Seth’s weight. A hand straightened her hair. She tried not to move, but those gentle fingers had a way of bypassing her brain entirely and causing inexplicable reactions. She shuddered and drew herself up, tugging the sheets to her throat.
Seth had removed her grass- and vomit-stained dress, slipped a clean nightie on her, and had nestled her into her bed after carrying her through the villa in his arms.
There seemed to be a fuck-ton too much of that going on lately. Since when had her own legs been too damned wobbly for her to walk with? And her brain too retarded for her to think with?
“It’s your first one: you can’t miss it. It’ll be good for you, you’ll see.”
Fighting him took too much energy, so Pearl let Seth draw her out of bed.
“Hit the head, the others are all done. We’re outside on the patio. Remember, where we sat that—”
“I’m not an idiot,” Pearl said, pushing past Seth and snatching open her cupboard door. “Let me guess… a lovely yellow little dress, right? Should I wear underwear, or is this one of those special meetings where I end up giving someone a lap dance?”
Seth didn’t answer. Pearl spun to him, but he was already by the door, his glower set in stone. Her heart did a painful thump in her chest, but she forced her anger to burn bright and hot.
She strode into the den, keeping her eyes downcast as she walked past the foxes where they sat perched on the living room furniture. Everyone looked freshly scrubbed and eager, even Morgan and Ivy. But all the muted chatter stopped until she was inside with the bathroom door closed.
When she’d showered and dressed — leaving her wet hair to do what it wanted — Pearl opened the bathroom door to an empty den. She squared her shoulders and went up the stairs, passing the aromatic cherry tree, and headed toward the library and patio exit. She passed both dungeon entrances and Caden’s office, their doors all closed. In the library, movement made her lift her head.
The patio doors were closed, but Pearl could see easily twenty people moving around beyond it. For a moment, she froze up. There were a lot of yellow dresses out there: more than she could account for. Who were all those people? She recognized Seth before the hulking man took a seat and two giggling foxes obscured him.
A hand closed over her upper arm. Pearl gasped, her head swiveling up to Ethan’s face.
“I think we’re late,” he said with a smile. “You know how it goes: the first in, the first out.”
He tugged her after him, perhaps not noticing that her legs weren’t working properly again. She stumbled, and he gave her a curious glance over his shoulder with friendly green eyes and a bemused mouth.
“You okay there?”
“Fine,” she managed breathlessly.
Tanner was outside.
Caden too.
And another man: tall and black, with a shaved head. He had his back to her, sitting opposite Tanner at the enormous table. Tanner was leaning forward, hands flat on the table. Ethan opened the door, and a miasma of sound washed over Pearl.
“—told me he was expecting his shipment to arrive in the morning, so he had a few hours to kill. So I told him—” Tanner cut off as Pearl and Ethan stepped onto the patio. He spread his hands wide, giving her a toothy, lecherous grin. “’Bout time, you two. Getting better acquainted with Seth’s foxes, Ethan?”
“What?” Ethan hurriedly released her, throwing her a frown. “No, I just—”
Tanner waved a dismissive hand. “Relax. Sit. Grubs up in about half an hour. Right, Scotty?”
The brassy-haired woman manning the expansive grill several feet away gave Tanner a vague waggle of her fingers over one shoulder.
Tanner pointed at her with a thumb. “Better at cooking than she is at talking. God, you two are making me uncomfortable. Sit, sit!”
There were only two chairs left. Ethan moved toward them first, stopping in his tracks so fast that Pearl walked into his back. He swung around and apologized, tugging a chair free for her and collapsing next to her a second later.
Pearl gripped her hands in her lap, studying the crowd assembled around the table through lowered lashes.
Another five foxes, Caden, Tanner, Seth, Ethan, and the black man who’d been utterly silent since she’d walked out of the villa.
The foxes were mostly talking amongst themselves. She’d landed up next to Morgan, who gave her a brief, flat smile before turning her attention back to toying with a pretzel. Snacks lined the center of the table, along with gleaming utensils and napkins. It seemed everyone sipped on a mug of coffee or a cocktail or a beer. Her seat was diagonally across from Tanner’s and about three people away from the newcomer.
“Can I get you something?” Ethan asked, making her jump.
She gave him a nod, and he shrugged at her. She shrugged back. He rose and went to the fridge beside the red-haired chef.
Her eyes turned to Caden, who was holding a whispered conversation with two rapt foxes on either side of him, his long-fingered hands describing something complicated as they stared slack-jawed at him.
“I don’t think you’ve met.” Tanner’s voice cut through her mind’s wild ramblings about what the hell Caden could possibly be saying that could hold such interest with the pair of vapid girls.
She snapped her eyes to him, squirming under their intensity.
“Sorry?”
Tanner moved his pointing index finger from her to the black man a few chairs away.
“Jarred? This is Pearl, our newest. Pearl, this is Jarred.”
Why did that name sound so familiar? Pearl’s head gave a thump as she scrambled to remember. Tanner drew his elbows onto the table and rested his chin on meshed fingers.
“He’s a bit shy,” Tanner said, winking at Jarred.
Jarred laughed.
Pearl jumped, her eyes swiveling to the man. He’d tossed back his head, his profile perfectly outlined against the pale stonework of the patio’s wall. With a strong jaw, flawless ebony skin, and large eyes, the man was incredibly handsome. But it was an austere, clinical beauty that the boisterous laugh did little to override.
Jarred twisted to face her, easily looking over the head of the fox seated beside him. He propped his elbow on the back of the chair and laced his fingers in front of him, giving her a slow, faint smile.
“Good to meet you, Pearl.” His voice matched his tall, sculpted form — it was deep and carefully enunciated. “Tell me, who were you in your former life?”
A hush fell over the assembled crowd. Pearl swallowed, shifting in her chair. Ethan came back holding two drinks and set one down in front of her. She took it gratefully, tugging at the straw.
“Uh… I was a dancer.”
“What kind of dancer?” Jarred’s unflinching gaze was making her squirm. She tried stilling herself, but it was impossible not to move under that penetrating stare.
“A… pole dancer.”
There were a few soft giggles at this, but the silence returned almost immediately. Jarred merely nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on her as if intent to draw every ounce of information from her and leave her a withered husk.
“And you?” Pearl asked in something approaching a squeak.
This time, Tanner laughed. He slammed his fist on the table and pushed back in his chair, laughing open-mouthed at Pearl’s look of confusion.
“Whatever happened to induction, Caden?” Tanner asked when his laughter had subsided.
Caden shoved his glasses back up his nose with an impatient knuckle, giving Pearl a brief, disapproving glare.
&nbs
p; “Seth said he’d tell her.”
“I did,” Seth cut in. “But it’s been—”
“I’m sorry,” Pearl said. “I just—”
“I’m a professional Dominant.” Jarred’s voice drew her eyes back to him. “Have been for several years. Tanner and I founded the Fox Pit based on our mutual interests. So, I’ve been doing this—” a slim, dark hand took in the villa with a quick flick “—for as long as I can remember.”
Pearl managed a nod, heat flashing onto her cheeks. She took another tug at the straw in her drink, sinking back into her chair with the hopes that Tanner would move on to different prey.
He didn’t.
“A little birdie told me you were exploring the gardens last night, Pearl,” Tanner said, tipping a glass to his mouth. “You should’ve come back to bed if you were struggling to fall asleep. I have the perfect remedy for that, you know.”
Pearl’s spine snapped straight. Her peripheral vision caught Ethan growing just as stiff, hand stilling with his drink inches away from his lips. She opened her mouth, intent on speaking the instant she could force words onto her tongue, but Tanner didn’t wait.
“That labyrinth is tricky during the day. Trying it at night…”
“Oh, no, I didn’t—” Pearl began. Her neck shivered with the effort of not looking at Ethan. If she turned to him, he would know. If she said anything wrong, he would know.
“She passed out on the lawn, Tanner.” Seth’s chair creaked in relief as he stood. “And I don’t think this is the right place to—”
“I’m going to have to start chaining you up if you keep wandering around unsupervised,” Tanner said.
At this, the girls closest to him let out low “Ooo’s” and burst out laughing. Tanner glanced at them each in turn with his eyebrows cocked.
“You think that’s funny?” He leaned across and pinched the girl’s ribs, making her squeal and twist away from him. “And you? Wanna get chained up next to her?” He feinted toward the second girl, and she almost fell out of her chair to avoid his fingers. Tanner chuckled, and the girls were still laughing when Ethan touched the side of Pearl’s hand.