Page 73 of Soul

On the whole, the brothel was split into five floors. The ground floor and four higher ones. The first two floors contained large rooms we rented out. A working girl could hire them on a nightly basis. The upper three floors held apartments, which were leased cheaply to the ones who wanted to live here or keep a permanent residence. Each floor had no less than three guards on, and security was everywhere.

At the front was the reception and security office. To get beyond that, you needed to be buzzed in. Due to who lived in the building, we had continuous protection on the doors. It was not illegal to sell sex in Maine, but it was illegal to buy sex. It wasn’t our business how the women got around the law. But Vogue was responsible for giving them a safe place to peddle their wares.

If a guard had called in, there was a reason why. And I didn’t mess about with the security or health of the people under the club’s protection. That was something I took even more seriously after my own incarceration as a sex slave.

My mind shied away from that as I tended to do, and I straddled my bike.

I headed out toward the brothel and let Mike know I was coming. It had been a surprise to hear his voice as he was usually on the fight circuit with me. Why Mike was at the brothel was a puzzle. Had he got fed up with the underground fighting?

I liked him. Mike was a decent sort who looked a lot like a younger version of Gerald Butler, and once, I would have taken him to bed. Not now. Not after what happened. I’d soured off men.

As I pulled into the office, I noticed two things. There were four bikers parked in the shadows of a layby just down the road, and there was also a brown van stationary.

With the Screaming Baron’s dead, they could only be Bloody Scorpions, and I wasn’t in the mood for this shit.

Mike met me on the doorstep, his head on a swivel and his hand resting by his hip. He was ready to grab his weapon.

“Any movement?” I asked.

“No, and the residents and clients aren’t aware, either. If there’s a shootout, they will lose money and keeping them safe off the streets may be impossible,” Mike said.

“Protecting them from the hands of pimps who’d beat them and steal their shit would also be a fucker,” I replied.

That was why we’d opened the brothel. Despite our stance on live and let live, we didn’t like men who hit on women. With pimps taking anything from thirty to eighty per cent of what the sex sellers earned, it was a miserable life pimping on the streets. What we had done as a club was open somewhere where pimps did not exist. The workers worked for themselves, and apart from paying rent on their apartment or room, they only gave us fifteen per cent of their earnings. This paid for the security and management we had.

We did have some high-class whores and some kink dominatrix living or renting apartments here, so we did make a profit. Also, several very rich men rented rooms for their mistresses here. Yeah, the brothel brought in a very tidy income.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Mike asked.

“Stay here. I’m going out into the open. See what they do, but stay back. Unless I call for you, wait here and protect the building,” I ordered.

“Dynamo, I don’t like the odds,” Mike said.

“Trust me, they won’t like them either, Mike. Wait inside and cover me from in there. Phone Warden, too, please,” I commanded. While I used ‘please’, it was undoubtedly an order.

Mike nodded reluctantly as he marched back inside. His body, encased in black combats and a black tee, would have tempted me at one point. But not now.

I watched as Mike entered theCourtesans’ Innand stood watching.

I might have guessed Mike wouldn’t let me out of his sight. However, that was fine as long as he didn’t see my face or, more particularly, my eyes. Like everyone with true abilities, when using mine, they changed. Some became white, others golden. Mine turned into an unnatural bright azure blue, and my hair took on a life of its own.

As I marched forward, I saw the bikers exchange glances and then roared ahead. They stopped near me, and one cocked his head. His name patch said Oil.

“Rather foolish to be confronting us, woman. Step aside and let us do what we gotta do,” Oil ordered.

“This is Royal Bastards property. Tell Tap he’s fucking with the wrong people,” I replied.

“You’re one pussy. Move or get hurt. We ain’t alone, bitch,” Oil stated.

I laughed. I could play this two ways but chose the easy way. “You were warned.”

“Look, you stupid cunt; we’ve extra men with us,” an idiot called Shovel snapped.

“Not for long.” Closing my eyes, I tapped into my powers, and they surged at my command. My hair began to float as static encompassed my body.

The Bloody Scorpions swapped glances and stepped towards me. I sensed them and opened my eyes, and they gasped.

They wore worried expressions. I turned my head from them and gazed at the van. Quietly, gathering my strength, I crushed it in an instant.

---