“Earlier today. It suits you.” His irises holding a wicked sparkle, he snapped the jeweled closure resting at her collarbone. “You’re dying to ask if I stole it.”
“Did you?”
“You know I never reveal my secrets.”
Irredeemable tease. After a final inspection in the looking glass, she followed him from the room and down the stairs to the store.
He held open the rear service door. “Tonight we have a meeting with Francesca. If there’s anyone we most need to gain the confidence of, it’s her. Since she vets all members, she’d be the prime source of intel on Casper Winston.”
“Then I shall lay my charm on extra thick in an effort to befriend her.”
He rewarded her with a devastating grin that reduced her knees to jelly. “There’s my girl.”
She would give anything for that statement to be true. To indeed belong to him. Pushing aside that delusional pipe dream, she secured the lock, and after bundling the skirt of her cloak to safeguard dragging the hem through the dirty alleyway, she made her way to the Air Racer.
The imposing gothic-style building housing Club Rapture stood in the teeming epicenter of Tul’dea. Strategically spaced spotlights cast an eerie red glow on sections of the structure’s stone edifice, leaving the rest in shadow. Massive twin Borasha trees bordered the filigreed gate that held sentinel outside the entrance.
There was no signage marking the establishment. If not for Jerrick’s unwavering confidence, Avily wouldn’t have been certain they were in the right spot. He helped her from the Racer and escorted her to the gate before pressing a button located beneath an embedded compu-screen.
The monitor lit up, and a masked face appeared in the middle of the screen. “State your business.”
Jerrick squeezed her elbow, a mute reminder that she was the one in charge from here on out. Steadying her nerves, she approached the device. “I’m Mistress Scarlett, here with my sub. I’ve an appointment with Mistress Dominitri.”
“Hold please.”
Jitteriness threatening to get the best of her, she stared at the blank monitor, her entire body shivering. Jerrick wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. “Deep breaths,” he whispered into her ear.
She managed to suck in a solitary gulp of oxygen before the masked face reappeared and the gate swung open. “Mistress Dominitri bids you welcome. She’ll be with you shortly. In the meantime, you may avail yourself of the downstairs refreshment bar.”
“Thank you.” Squaring her shoulders, Avily started toward the waiting entrance. Jerrick stalled her with a firm squeeze on her arm. She glanced at him, confused.
He discreetly placed the end of his leash into her hand.
Great. Not even through the doors yet, and already she was fucking things up.
Apparently sensing her distress, Jerrick rubbed her nape. “You’ve got this. There’s no one I’d trust more by my side. Remember that.”
As always, his precious praise tore through her doubts, dispersing them to the wind. They gazed at each other for a long moment before she slipped the leash loop around her fingers and led the way to the steel-reinforced doors. With a minimum of fuss, they were ushered inside, and a woman dressed in a sheer black mesh body stocking that revealed more than it concealed took Avily’s cloak. Shifting her focus to Jerrick, Avily raised her eyebrow, fully prepared to bust him ogling the female’s nipples. He barely glanced at the girl as he passed her his jacket, his attention instead drifting around the cherry-paneled vestibule.
“I hope you enjoy your stay, Mistress.” The female dropped her gaze demurely and backed away.
Another club member approached, this time a man garbed in a leather outfit similar to Jerrick’s. “Mistress Dominitri wishes me to show you to the bar in her brief absence.”
Avily peered at Jerrick again and noticed that unlike with the girl, the male had captured his undivided attention. Judging from the glint in his narrowed eyes, he was sizing up the competition.
The instant the male turned his back, she jerked on Jerrick’s collar, earning his scowl. “You’re supposed to be a sub. Somehow I doubt one would visually pummel their competitor the way you’re doing right now,” she whispered in a fierce undertone.
“I wasn’t doing anything of the sort.” Jerrick’s jaw remained rigid. “And he’s nowhere in my league. Let’s make that clear.”
“True. He’s actually civil and obedient.” Ignoring Jerrick’s growl, she followed the man into a large room tucked in a corner of the main level of the club. Despite the vastness of the space, the illusion of cozy intimacy had been created with the judicial use of dark wood wainscoting and lush fabrics in rich jewel tones. Even the lighting was dim, adding to the welcoming ambiance.
The male stopped beside an unoccupied tufted leather chaise. “Will this suit, Mistress?”
Avily opened her mouth, ready to request a seating arrangement for two, but one glance at the neighboring members quickly sealed her lips. All of the subs sat at their master’s feet.
Close call number two. Nodding, Avily lowered onto the proffered seat. She waited for Jerrick to balk or scowl at being relegated to the floor, but he only folded his big frame beside her legs and kept his gaze glued to the arched entry leading into the bar.
“Shall I bring you some refreshments, Mistress? A glass of wine and grapes for your sub to feed you?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you…?” She waited for the male to supply his name, but he only cast his gaze to the floor.
“It is unnecessary to thank me, Mistress. I live only to serve you.”
A rumbling sound rolled from Jerrick, and she tugged on his leash again. Fortunately the other male was too busy rushing off to do her bidding to notice. She leaned down and combed her fingers through Jerrick’s hair, using the gesture to hide her not-so-gentle tweak on his ear. He met her glare, his expression saccharine. “Yes, my Mistress?”
“I’m doing my part. Stop being a complete dunderhead.”
“Of course, Mistress. After all, I live only to serve you.”
Where was that damn flogger when she needed it?
A rustling noise broke through her surliness, and she glanced up as a statuesque redhead in a skintight emerald silk gown approached. Avily knew the woman had to be the club’s proprietress, Francesca Dominitri. No one could glide into a room, the picture of grace and power, without the supreme knowledge that she owned the place and everything within it.
Avily automatically rose to her feet, and Jerrick followed suit. The woman swept them with an assessing look and extended her hand to Avily. “Welcome to my club. I’m Mistress Dominitri.”
Wasting no time, Avily introduced herself and Jerrick. Francesca’s beautiful features adopted an almost hard quality as she inspected Jerrick before holding out her hand again, her gaze challenging. Avily sucked in a breath, unsure how Jerrick would respond to the antagonism wafting from Francesca. His posture dutifully submissive, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the woman’s pale hand.
The tension eased from Avily. “I appreciate your gracious offer to host me and my sub, Mistress. I was just admiring your club’s beautiful scenery.”
“I take that as a compliment.” Francesca’s focus flicked to Jerrick as he straightened. “Particularly since you already have such extraordinary scenery to regularly enjoy.” Although there was no denying the appreciation in the woman’s eyes, a definitive note of derision laced her words.
She has something against faes. If there was one thing Jerrick had taught Avily well, it was how to read people. And the bristling hostility pouring off Mistress Dominitri was unmistakable.