Authors: Colleen Gleason
“Toryn tells me you live in the Circus District,” Olivia said, taking a sip of her wine. “And that you’re a Talent.”
Keely nodded. “My sister and I run a shop down there.” It felt strange to admit to people she hardly knew that she had special abilities. Strange, and yet kind of liberating at the same time. “Or, I should say, we used to run a shop there. I had to close it down. Temporarily until…well, until this whole mess with my sister gets sorted out.”
“Whereabouts is your shop?” Olivia asked, slanting a glance at Asher. “I dated a guy once who ran one of those underground fighting rings in the area.”
Yeah, she’d heard about a few of them. “It’s a few blocks up from the waterfront. Near Yesler.”
Olivia nodded. “Isn’t there a really popular mobile coffee cart around there? I used to work at a wine and coffee store downtown, and I remember hearing about it.”
“Circus Coffee? Yeah, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen since their popular barista went missing.”
Asher overheard them. “Was she a Talent?”
“Yeah,” Keely said, spearing a cherry tomato from her salad. “The last person she was seen with is the same guy who hired my sister. At least I’ve seen Becca, but—” She thought about the bruises under Becca’s eyes. “As far as I know, no one’s seen or heard from Hanna.”
“I’m sorry your sister is messed up with Davin Reaux,” Olivia said. She cocked her head in Asher’s direction. “These guys have been trying to infiltrate his network for awhile now and having a hell of a time.”
Keely looked down at her plate. “I’m worried about her, too. But what makes it even harder is that I didn’t have anyone to turn to. Until Toryn…”
She felt the heat of his stare. She lifted her eyes and saw that he was watching her from across the room where he and Rickert were talking.
“Well, now you have us,” Olivia said brightly.
Asher, his arm around Olivia, agreed.
“Both Neyla and I know what it's like growing up in Pacifica and then discovering you are a Talent,” Olivia said.
Neyla gave her a warm smile. “It’s not easy. But you're among friends here.”
“Definitely,” Olivia said, nodding. “I hope you’ll have a chance to visit Cascadia sometime. Talents aren’t feared or exploited there. They’re treated like they have a gift. Just like an athlete, artist, or musician over here.”
Keely hadn’t spent much time thinking about what the world was like on the other side of a portal, but if it was anything like the easy rapport she was having with these two women, then she was intrigued. She could almost see herself going over there, setting down some roots.
“Speaking of talents,” Keely said, eyeing Neyla’s knit shawl. “You didn’t happen to make that, did you? Because it’s gorgeous.”
Neyla brightened. “Yes, I did. Thanks.”
“I knew it,” Keely said, absently touching her own pale blue infinity scarf. “I’ve never seen a stitch like that.”
“Sounds like you’re a knitter yourself. I’d be happy to show you how to do it. It’s really easy once you know the trick.”
Keely sighed. “If I could live in a yarn shop, I would. When Becca and I were trying to come up with a concept for our shop, I lobbied hard for Sisters Yarns and Fortunes, but Becca doesn’t knit or crochet, so in the end we decided to go with books, and you can’t really go wrong with books.”
***
Toryn returned to the table a few minutes later and sat next to Keely. Rickert had wanted to know what safety precautions he’d taken on the way up here. On no uncertain terms was Keely allowed to go outside unaccompanied. If and when they did go out, she was to be blindfolded before crossing the Esmerelda line. She was not allowed to know where the Iron Haven was located or how to get here.
Yada yada yada
.
Rickert was nitpicking everything.
Konal had been right. The Iron Guild leader was doing everything by the book now that he had his command back. He wanted to prove to the leadership in Cascadia that they’d made the right decision putting him in charge again.
“I understand ye are able to shield your thoughts from Psychic-Talents,” Rickert said to Keely.
Toryn slipped a hand over the back of her chair and absently stroked her shoulder with his thumb. It was nice to see her fitting in so seamlessly with his people. Maybe the two of them weren’t so different after all.
She shrugged. “I didn't know that one of those men was a Talent. I just wanted them to continue running past me, that’s all.”
“Interesting.” Rickert took a swig of his beer. “And ye were able to shield Toryn’s thoughts from them as well, otherwise they would’ve realized he was a threat.”
She nodded.
“Think ye can do it again?”
Toryn’s head snapped up. What was the guy implying?
“I'm not really sure,” Keely answered hesitantly. “Maybe.”
Toryn glared at Rickert. He knew he should be respectful of his leader, but he had a feeling things were about to get ugly. “You're not saying what I think you’re saying, are ye? Because if ye are, the answer is a flat-out no.”
Rickert seem unfazed. “What if she can get a few of us past those body guards? We’ll be able to get to Reaux and—”
“What the bloody hell, Rickert?” Toryn said, aware that he was raising his voice to his leader. “I’m getting a serious case of whiplash here. Ten minutes ago, you’re lecturing me about bringing her, and now ye want her to be a part of this mission? It’s treacherous enough for a trained warrior.”
Keely put a hand on his arm. “Toryn, please. Let’s talk about this. I’m willing to do anything if it’ll help get my sister back.”
He jerked away from her. “No. It's too dangerous.”
“She’s my sister,” Keely said through clenched teeth. “And this is
my
decision.”
Even though she was making his blood boil, Toryn knew he was on the verge of losing this argument. “What if someone recognizes you? That red hair is a dead giveaway.”
“They didn’t see my hair,” she said. “I had a hood on, remember? But I can wear a wig.”
“What if you’re not able to maintain a shield for long? You shielded the two of us for, what, a total of ten seconds?”
“She can practice, Toryn,” Rickert said, butting his nose in where it didn’t belong. “And if it turns out she can’t maintain it, then we won’t use her. It’s that simple.”
Toryn thought about how he’d intended to use her at first as well. And it made him sick now. She was so much more to him than a means to an end.
“This is her call, Toryn,” Rickert reiterated. “No one else’s.”
Toryn dropped his fork with a clatter and pushed up from the table. Who the bloody hell did Rickert think he was? Of course she would want to help her sister. But that didn’t mean she should.
Konal stepped in front of him. “You don’t want to do that.”
Toryn scowled at his friend. “He wants to send Keely into the mouth of the dragon, and you expect me to be okay with that?”
Konal lowered his voice. “We’re just talking, okay? Throwing out ideas.”
“Yeah? Well I’m throwing that one away.”
“Hey, uh, you guys?” Sean was on the other side of the room, looking at his computer screen. “One of the news sites is reporting that another woman from the Circus District has gone missing. They’re saying she’s a Talent.”
“Oh my God,” Keely said. “Who?”
“Hold on, let me see.” He paused to read more of the article. “Oh sorry. It says here that the authorities believe it’s a domestic dispute and has nothing to do with the missing barista. Apparently,
this
woman had been having an affair with a guy whose wife just found out about it.”
Keely looked relieved that the disappearances weren’t connected, which made Toryn relax in turn. The less stressed she was about the situation, the better.
Zara had been picking up empty bottles from that side of the room and now peered over Sean’s shoulder. “Ha. It’s Birdie Lyons’ vlog,” she said to Vince.
“Who’s that?” Toryn asked.
“She thinks she’s a journalist,” Vince snapped. “But she’s a fucking joke who cares only about ratings and clicks.”
“The only thing newsworthy about that woman’s show,” Zara said, “are the outlandish outfits she wears.”
Toryn must’ve looked confused, because Vince added, “It means you can’t trust a thing she says. Otherwise you’d believe that Zara was a prison bunny—” he said with air quotes “—who associates with the deadly, dangerous and deranged.”
Zara flashed Vince a knowing half-smile and rubbed her flat stomach. “Well, I do associate with dangerous men who knock me up, so at least that part is true.”
“What’s the missing woman’s name?” Keely asked. “I wonder if I know who she is.”
Sean turned back to the screen. “Um…Verla Martinez.”
“What?” Keely gasped in horror. “That’s wrong. That can’t be her.”
“Did she work at a tattoo parlor?” Sean asked almost apologetically.
“Yes. Oh my God.” Keely’s hands were shaking. “I…I can’t believe they’re saying it’s not connected.”
“You know her, Kitten?” Toryn asked, reaching for her hands and sandwiching them between his.
“Verla is a friend of mine. She’s my tattoo artist,” she whispered hoarsely. “And she wasn’t having an affair with a
man
. That’s bullshit. Verla’s gay.”
While everyone else crowded around the screen to read the article, Keely turned to Rickert. “Tell me what I need to do to prepare.”
Keely spent the next week working with one of the trainers who specialized in helping the warriors hone their Talents, an elderly man brought over from Cascadia whom everyone simply referred to as the Grey One. She wondered what they called him when he was younger. It was grueling work, mostly mental, and after they were finished with the lessons, she tumbled into bed each night completely exhausted.
She already knew basic self-defense, having taken Krav Maga a few years ago, but she brushed up on her skills and incorporated some basic knife drills. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use any of it, that getting the warriors past the psychic guards would be enough.
After much trial and error, the Grey One had come to the conclusion that the only people Keely could reliably shield were her and Toryn. The rest were spotty, at best. After learning that, Toryn had wanted to scratch the mission altogether, but Keely refused.
In the end it was decided that Toryn and Keely would go into the club alone, while the rest of the warriors would provide support from a safe distance.
“Oh my God, you look gorgeous,” Neyla said, putting the finishing touches on Keely’s attire. “Not bad for such short notice.”
“Can I turn around yet?” Keely asked. “I want to see what strip club chic looks like.”
“Hold on.” Neyla pulled and tucked a few things while Olivia did something with her hair. “Okay, now you can look.”
Keely whirled around and looked in the full-length mirror. Her breasts spilled over the top of a black corset and a full-length black skirt draped flatteringly over her curves. “Holy crap,” she breathed. “I hardly recognize myself.” She touched the wig, an electric-blue bob that came just past her chin. “And this dress, it’s simply gorgeous. I’ve always wanted to wear a corset.”
Neyla beamed. “Glad you like it, but it’s all very functional as well. The corset has a hidden panel for your knife. That way, if they’re having guests go through metal detectors, you’ll be fine because the corset has metal boning. Even if they pat you down, they’ll just think the knife is another piece of boning.” Neyla continued to scrutinize the fit. “Your dress is dual purpose. You’ve got this semi-sheer black fabric for the overskirt but underneath is a pair of slim silk trousers. That way, if you need to make a fast getaway, you can kick off your shoes, pull off this outer skirt and go.”
To complete the look, she wore bright red lipstick, silver earrings and studs, and false eyelashes.
“I love this tattoo,” Olivia said, pointing to her arm.
“Thanks. It’s new.” She ran her fingers over the script. “It’s from my favorite poem. Verla did it for me.” A lump formed in her throat at the thought of her friend.
Olivia nodded thoughtfully. “It’s lovely,” she said, giving Keely a hug. “I know you’ll find them. Toryn is the best there is.”
When Toryn stepped into the room a few minutes later, she nearly had a heart attack. The man was freaking gorgeous. He wore a well-tailored black tuxedo that emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow hips. His thick raven hair was neatly captured in a low bun. She seriously wanted to take him back upstairs and ravish him.
“You look beautiful, Kitten. Seriously stunning.” He was eyeing her cleavage as if he wanted to take a bite.
She’d never worn a corset before…but she was pretty sure this wouldn’t be the last time.
***
“Something’s wrong, Toryn.”
They had just made it past the registration table at the entrance of Aphrodistic and were standing in front of an elaborate floor-to-ceiling bar, one of several around the place. Sean had worked his magic and gotten them onto the guest list, along with fake identification and papers.
Toryn looked around warily. House music boomed through the speakers and neon lights flashed from the DJ booth. Several raised platforms contained dancers in micro-bikinis with chains and collars around their necks. People were everywhere. The place was packed.
“What is it?” he asked, not finding the source of her concern.
“Those two bodyguards back there who checked us in? They weren’t psychics. Or if they were, they’re not very good. It was nothing like the drills that the Grey One put me through.”
“Maybe you’re stronger now and a little blip doesn’t register any longer.”
She shook her head, the blue hair of her wig skimming her jawline. The color was so startling and different from how she normally looked that it caught him off-guard every time. A good thing, actually, otherwise his gaze would automatically drop to her breasts spilling over the top of that corset. Hell. If not for that beacon of blue hair, he’d have a perma-hard-on from staring at her gorgeous figure all night.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It doesn’t feel right. If this party and auction is everything we’ve heard it will be, shouldn’t there be more of them around? I mean, the night I met you, they’d had at least one Psychic-Talent on duty.”