Page 15 of Heir of the Beast

“Pierce will also be keeping track of you ladies, providing clothing and the essentials. The perfect aid to make sure each one of you has the best chance at succeeding.

“You all know how important this mission is to me. But keep in mind that you all are competing against each other, and strategy is key. They will help you on your journey to ensnaring the prince.”

This fantasy went from a Disney movie to me being a part of the Special Love Operations, with a dose of Survivor. I am in way too deep now. There is no turning back.

Maybe I will get lucky and get placed as Apollo’s slave?

Wishful thinking never hurt anyone.

Chapter 4

Everything is happening very quickly, and Charming keeps apologizing for it. I hug Cherie before we are split up to go our own ways.

I keep praying he will not lead me into a drug-infested sex trade operation. [1]

Pierce glances back at me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m excited,” I deadpan. I think I would be more enthused if I didn’t draw to be a slave. It might be a very long three months.

He smiles back at me. “You are going to a new world, and that right there is worth it. Delorith, though infested with evil, is very beautiful.”

I can’t say anything to that.

Room after room into long white hallways, I stop questioning how all of this can fit into a New Orleans historic building. Somehow, I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore.

When we arrive, our destination is a large room with a very bizarre contraption sitting in the middle of it. It reminds me of an alien space pod ready to beam me down to this crazy planet.

“Viola, this is your briefing room.” He pauses and opens another door on the opposite wall. It sounds like a pressurized space door. An agent walks through, and it’s the one who looks like Sailor Moon.

“This is Mort, your guide to everything you need.” He continues, “It’s time for your preparation. Have a seat, please.”

He is carrying a huge stack of papers a foot thick. He slams the stack on the little metal desk in the corner of the room.

“This is everything you need to know about Delorith and its people. It also contains relevant information about Apollo.” He waves his hand in the air.

“You know—his likes and dislikes, that type of thing. Blond, redhead, brunette…

“Is he a happy drunk or aggressive one? Does he like his mother? How many people has he killed, if any? Boxers or briefs? Does he have any fetishes?”

I can’t tell if he is serious, but I think he is. “That’s a lot of information.”

“Isn’t it, though.” He smiles at me. His mood seems borderline unstable.

Charming laughs, dusting something off his perfect white sleeve.

“We don’t have time for anything. That is all the information you do not get to read before we thrust you into a very dangerous place. You must rely heavily on Mort as your sole lifeline.”

I glance at my agent, knowing I must confirm this, in case I misheard. “Your name is Mort?”

Her big eyes narrow. “Where I’m from, it’s a lovely name.” She raises her small chin. “Ignorant human.”

I nod and glance back at Charming’s amused face, finding my composure. “So you’re saying I’m screwed.”

His face brightens. “Yes.”

I stare at him.

“Moving on, we have thirty minutes to get you dressed and ready.” He claps his hands, and the machine in the middle of the room comes to life with glowing pink and blue lights.

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