Page 36 of Scales and Seduction

Finally, I decide to leave the room before she chucks the crystal glass at my head in a fit of rage. As I round the corner toward the foyer, Silas appears with a casual grin. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks, I feel like shit.” I glance around, realizing the rooms are silent, and the study doors are wide open with no one inside. “Where is everyone?”

“Ah, well,” he claps me on the shoulder, clearly enjoying himself, “your fiancée and her family decided they’d had enough for the night. Apparently, they weren’t thrilled about sharing space with a human.” Silas pauses with a devious glint in his eyes. “As for your beautiful mate and our green friend…they’re headed to my club.”

My entire body tenses at the thought of Ruby going to his strip club. “Silas…” My tone turns dark as I stare deep into my friend’s eyes. “You aren’t taking Ruby to your club.” I exhale sharply, feeling myself grow tense at the thought of it.

“Oh, I’m not,” he replies in a sing-song tone. “Loran already has her halfway there. Don’t worry, your little sex kitten already knows what’s ahead of her. She wasn’t worried about a strip club.”

“Fuck, and she agreed? Did you glamor her?” I ask, hating the nickname he’d given her. “Please stop using names for her like that; have some decorum, Silas.”

The bastard only chuckles, shrugging as if he couldn’t care less what I feel or think. “She agreed, and I did glamor her, but it’s weak. My magic isn’t infinite, not that you care since you keep fucking the glamor off her.” Silas’s voice takes on a tired edge, and I realize then that perhaps I’ve been really thinking only of Ruby and not my friend’s well-being. He’s right, his mana can only extend so far. “She’s safer at my club than anywhere else.”

“Silas, what happens if someone hurts her because they can tell she’s human?” My anxiety bubbles up as my friend’s hand clasps down harder on my shoulder. “Gideon, whoever is at the source of these attacks already knows she’s here. The council knows she’s here. People here in the Vale need to learn to like her if you intend to keep her. She can’t live under a constant glamor.”

It doesn’t settle the sense of unease I feel deep within my guts that refuses to fade, but there’s some solace in the fact that right now Ruby is safe. If she weren’t, I’d feel it. At least the weak spell can hold for now. Maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.

The bass hits me first, pounding through my chest as we reach the double doors of the club. The sign I remember from my first time here flashes overhead: a wolf chasing a naked woman until he catches her.

“I typically don’t come to Silas’s club,” Loran says quietly. The entire walk here he’s been silent with this aura that screams uncomfortable. It’s a strip club; it’s not like someone’s going to be fucking on the stage, right?

At the entrance are two big minotaurs, each one wearing a stretched-out black t-shirt with the name of the club over a pocket. One nods at Loran as if in recognition before opening up the violet rope for us to gain entrance. The large double doors swing open, and I’m hit by erratically flashing lights of all colors. The air is thick with scents of sweat, alcohol and perfumes.

“She smells…good,” one of the bouncers says under his breath, taking a huge inhale in my general direction.

Fuck, I forgot, I’m a more human me to everyone now. Silas said my glamor was weaker because he’s used up a lot of magic and that people might see through it. Still, I truly thought I was safer than this.

My heart starts racing in my chest, and panic starts to wind its way through my body at the implications of being caught. The council already knows, and I’m not quite sure what that might really mean for me.

I’m stepping into a monster strip club. How the hell do I talk myself into these things?

I hesitate a moment as I glance inside, completely overwhelmed by every noise and color. This isn’t my first time in a strip club, but it is in a den full of horny monsters. “Loran…” I whisper through my teeth. “Is this safe?”

The half-orc beside me takes my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “I assure you it’s perfectly safe. If anything, you might be considered exotic or interesting, at best, but I’m still struggling to make sense of your nature, even with the weaker spell. We aren’t monsters.” He chuckles for a moment. “Forgive the pun.”

“If you say so.” There’s no one else I’d trust more than one of Gideon’s friends. They’ve never steered me wrong before now. All I have to lose is my life, which I very much would like to keep intact, thank you.

Once I’m inside, I realize it’s not much different than the strip club Quinn took me to for my birthday. There are three small stages with poles positioned in various spots on the floor, a long bar backlit with bright red lights against the left side, and the main stage in the center with round tables in the middle of the massive floor. What I find amazing is it’s not just women dancing, though they’re all in sparkling sequined outfits under the strobing lights.

“Wow, this is…” I stare as one of the fairies on the main stage holds herself in the air in a split while another is on the pole upside down underneath her spread legs. “There’s a lot…going on.”

Loran makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat as he holds my hand to lead me toward the large bar against the back wall. I notice his eyes remain ahead. He doesn’t once glance at any of the dancers in various stages of undress.

As we weave through the rows of black tables and chairs, I do my best to ignore a group of women staring at me intensely. Instead of ears, they have delicate, feathery fins, and their hair is like strands of wet seaweed. Peeking under the table, I can't see if they're mermaids, which is probably good since they'd need water to survive.

When we arrive at the bar, the dimly lit space reveals the dark, polished wood, cool to the touch, with the faint smell of liquor in the air. The bar itself is a long, strong piece of wood, possibly pine, its surface worn smooth from years of use. It must weigh hundreds of pounds, and behind it are rows upon rows of liquor bottles in various shapes, sizes and colors.

“Oi! ‘Ands to yerself!” a crooning Scottish accent floats from the opposite end of the bar, immediately drawing my attention. That’s when I see a striking slender fairy with the most brilliant fiery red hair. It’s not just her hair, though; it’s everything about her. It’s the way she carries herself to her glimmering jewel-encrusted eyepatch covering her left eye. She exudes confidence.

The fairy raises her balled fist at someone before spitting to the side viciously. “Nasty bugger,” she says, scowling. My eyes follow the offending person, only to see hulking figures in black pulling him away, and the rude client doesn’t fight back at all. His heels barely dig into the ground to stay.

“Who are they?” I whisper to Loran as the fairy heads behind the bar, closer to the two of us.

“Oh, that’s Opal; she’s the co-owner of the bar.”

“Looooraaann!” Her lilting voice is thick as she slaps her palm down on the bar right in front of us. “What brings ya—” She pauses to sniff the air in front of me, narrows her eyes andthen says, “I’mma not ask questions, but ‘ye best be careful, Loran…” She turns to face me next, giving me a sweeter smile, as if I didn’t hear her. “What ya drinking, sugar?”

“It’s best you don’t ask,” Loran replies in a monotone. I can’t tell if he’s annoyed to be here, or if he’s annoyed with telling the story of what I am, and who. I can’t say I blame him very much. Opal must be much older if she remembers humans enough to be suspicious. “We’re going to wait on Silas first.”

---