{Gait}

The second Monarch 3 drone put up more of a fight. Matt expected no less from Razor’s staff, who doubled as security while routinely torturing people in the basement. Eventually, he ripped the guy’s throat out. Messy. But he was familiar with messy. In their CoN take downs, Lucy shined in the aftermath as well. She taught him to expertly bleach even the grout. After maybe twenty minutes of cleanup, he dragged the body out to pile it on top of the first one. Blunt force trauma took care of it.

Two down. One to go. The employee between Matt and the security office. Lucy would insist on taking it.

Razor’s Emporium of Exotic Experiences was closed for repairs. Thanks, Tameka. The boss disappeared into his suites when the Lyriks confirmed the Sovereign Ambassador left the planet. He also dismissed the non-essential staff. The open floors, kitchens, and office spaces were empty. Just Matt and the security drones.

Single drone now.

Quietly, Matt opened the door to the security office. The insect-esque alien sat cross-legged with a film over his multi-faceted eyes. This meant they were closed. He breathed in deeply through his needly nose. Meditating? On the job?

Matt unsheathed his six-inch knife and circled around to his target’s back. Quick and stealthy—

The drone elbowed Matt in the crotch.

Nope. Not stealthy.

He snarled and jumped on the alien’s back. Anything to keep his wings under control. While he grabbed and groped for Matt, the ginger stabbed him several times. Mostly around the neck. It was easier to kill CoN humans without nacres. This drone’s wounds kept healing.

The drone threw his back against the wall, slamming Matt into it. Two. Three times.

But the human found the angle he needed to slice the knife across the guy’s throat. A geyser of extremely viscous fluid painted the security office in pale pink.

As he rode his opponent down, Matt added this to his growing index of alien anatomical peculiarities. He knelt over the body, prepared to carve open a y-incision and confirm the placement of organs and major arteries. The more he explored their biology, the better he and Lucy knew to kill them.

God, he missed her. Gazing at the mess, he really could use a hand with clean up. But first, disposal of the body.

It took Matt another twenty minutes to drag the big guy out into the alley. With the last one on the pile, he headed back to the security office to shut things down and dispose of the evidence—

“Hey, man.” Puk stepped out of the office with a big grin on his face. Not at all like he just exited a room covered in the blood of his brethren. Maybe the blood evaporated or something.

Surprised, it took a minute longer for Matt to slide into a friendly persona. Warm smile, easy posture, hands exposed. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Yeah. Razor called me in for a briefing on the ceiling situation. My cousin is the contractor who worked on his addition, so I’m getting them in ASAP to clean up this mess.” With the facets of his eyes glittering in good humor, Puk leaned in conspiratorially. “Do he and Triss ever stop fucking lately? The guy was going at it the entire time we were talking.”

Earlier, Tameka drained Triss’ nacre and sent her to the floor. While Razor carried her to the infirmary, the man kept frowning and checking her vitals, as if genuinely worried. He demanded a sonogram when they reached the medical space. To Matt’s recollection, it was the first time the boss came across as concerned for the baby, and not just for his lover.

Answering the drone’s question, the ginger laid the camaraderie on thick. “Right? Like there’s no tomorrow. It was the same with me before the ceiling gave up. Are you staying for a Numbered shift?” Keep the probing subtle.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Nah, man. He was so grateful for the discount that he invited me to Night Rayne with you two.” Drones were super muscled insect men. Big and brawny. This drone giggled giddily like a bridesmaid that caught the bouquet. “I’m stoked! I get to hang out with the best of the crew and see Rayne again. Well, imitation Rayne.”

Good. Matt didn’t need to kill him.

Focusing on the issue at hand, he fist bumped the other employee with an enthusiastic chuckle. “Kick ass. Just let me get my stuff from inside the security office, and we can both peel the boss man off his girl.”

“Sure.” Puk stepped aside and let Matt into the room.

Nothing. No trace of struggle or a drop of blood. Was it actually disappearing blood? That was convenient—

Matt frowned as he stepped over to the monitors. The system was completely offline. And when he tried to replay older footage, the last few days were missing from the files.

“Oh, yeah. Razor asked me to run the latest updates. It’ll be down all day. Weird how things disappear, huh?”

Not sure which expression to give, Matt faced the other man with a blank stare. “Yeah. Weird.”

“Let’s get our boss and go have us a good time. Don’t forget your ‘stuff.’” Puk turned around and walked out of the vacant room.

Matt washed up before he and Puk headed to their boss’s suites below the vault. The drone at his side was a surprise. The ginger wasn’t as good at amassing followers and staging a coup as Lucy. But then again, he wasn’t a hot blond with the softest skin and sweetest lips—

A soft cry reached them from the stairs before ever entering the black room. More moans and grunts followed as they descended into an orchestra of sexual gratification. Fourteen Lyriks under Razor’s control, and he used them for this.

Four Lyriks hovered on the ceiling with their gliders fanning like hummingbird wings. They held a mirror positioned over Razor’s massive bed. Naked writhing, grinding, and riding reflected on the antiqued surface.

Someone bound a Lyrik to each of the four structural columns at the corners of the bed. Blindfolded them. More pitch-black, flame-haired women pleasured the restrained ones. Caressing, licking, kissing, sucking—everything, everywhere.

The center of the bed starred Gait’s royal couple. The boss laid back on the bed, gazing between the mirror and Triss. She rode him with Miy’s hands all over and inside her. Oleen knelt behind them, keeping one hand cupped over Triss’ mouth while the other restrained the red-feathered woman’s wrists at her back.

The Pain Curator coordinated it all. Triss was the only one with free will, and she apparently enjoyed it subdued. In the crescendo of her muffled noises, she cried out his name and went totally slack.

The room smelled exactly as one expected. Sex and sweat. An Icari or a race with better noses than humans would smell more. Apparently, everyone expelled fairly personalized scents. Matt often wondered how Lucy smelled.

Razor compelled the other Lyriks to finish each other while he laid an unconscious Triss out to rest. With perfect composure, he climbed out of the bed and nodded at the two guards in the abyssal space. “Be with you in a moment.”

No wonder Pehton was so terrified of him. Was this technically rape? How was he so practiced at it? Did he want Sagan and Ross like this—

Never mind. It wouldn’t matter in a few hours.

Shower spray kicked off somewhere in the dark while Gait’s wardens untied each other. As they moved eerily autonomously, Matt suddenly recalled that Razor once offered Oleen to him. For sex. Was that sex with Razor? Is that how he gained so much intel? He seduced targets through the Lyriks.

Son of a bitch—

“Let’s go.” Razor emerged, wearing white pants with black pinstripes. It seemed out of place for a concert. He seated his belt as they headed for the stairs.

Puk cleared his throat. They stopped, and he awkwardly shrunk under the Pain Curator’s gaze. The man raised a brow, prompting the drone to ask, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

Matt was certain Razor only gave a handful of genuine expressions since his time at the Emporium. The warm smile for Puk and the longing gaze at the sleeping woman counted among them. “Let her rest for later this evening. No sense spending what short time we have left with her sleeping. Not when we can indulge in other ways.”

They climbed up to the vault and walked across the mezzanine. All the while, Razor fastened the buttons on his shirt and set his cufflinks. As they descended the spiral stairs, Matt needed to ask, “Hey, boss?”

“Yes?” Again, with genuine fondness in his voice.

They crossed the Emporium’s main floor to the revolving door while Matt thought of how to phrase this. Eventually, he blurted out, “Did you try to have sex with me as a Lyrik?”

The party halted to a screeching stop. Puk glared upside Matt’s head. Razor kept his back to them. After a heartbeat, his rigid shoulders shook with humor. He barked out authentic laughter. Big and fun. And rarely heard.

He faced them with tears glittering in his solid gray eyes. Through broken laughter, he confessed, “No one… And I mean no one… has ever pieced that together before now.” He patted Matt on the shoulder. “I like you, you strange sandwich-gorging human. Now...” Majestically, he swept on his matching pinstripe blazer and straightened the cuffs. “Let’s put the competition to rest.”

Razor went through the revolving door without actually answering Matt’s question.