FIVE

Sear

Nox scrubbing his back would not stop flashing in front of Rayne’s eyes, like a sexy neon sign. She giggled at the visual, and the Icarus in question quirked a brow at her. With a warding wave, she assured, “You don’t even want to know.”

With a shrug, Nox looked back at the conduit leading to a location on Ishkur. Lights, people, music—So much movement. It was dizzying to Rayne, who’d spent the last few years in a box.

Nox nodded toward it, asking, “Is this our destination?”

Elden had opened the conduit to the right club. The logo, W³, flashed on the cathedral ceiling. “This is it. Remember, we’re looking for a way upstairs. There, we should find our targets. They’re responsible for off-sphere human trafficking, so there’s no need to play nice.”

Nox smirked down at Rayne, eyes glinting with hunger. She wondered if hers looked the same as Rayne contemplated her appetite.

Violence.

“Let’s go.” She walked in first, grateful Elden had placed their entrance in a secluded corner—

“Harder, Jay, please!”

Unnerved by the moans and sighs, Rayne’s eyes involuntarily searched for the source. To her right, a couple went at it pretty hot and heavy, ignoring Nox walking into the club from thin air. Once he realized the nature of their company, he glanced down at Rayne.

So not going there.

She glanced up at the mezzanine bordering the perimeter upstairs. Trying to ignore the climax of the show, Rayne nodded at the second floor, saying, “I’ll head up. You take the downstairs.”

Nox always trusted Rayne to handle herself. In answer, he tapped the thick belt strapped across his chest, indicating his daggers. Before Nox lifted his hood to leave, his gaze raked down Rayne and up again, expression inscrutable. Then he turned and left without a word. Those soft leather pants on that ass looked spectacular walking away.

Rayne shook herself.

Focus.

When the couple found the finish line, she rolled her eyes. It was as if Eternity itself wanted her to jump Nox’s bones with all these hints.

Never mind that, because Rayne was in the thick of it—Her first vice den. Dagger’s Warehouse of Wild Wonders was a knockoff Pain Curator establishment built in the first six weeks of Ishkur’s freshly developed underground. Like its namesake implied, it was a warehouse with a space-scraper mounted on its roof.

Rayne never saw Razor’s Emporium of Exotic Experiences in person, but this pitiful imitation made her wish for whiskey-lit, antiqued mirrors. Instead, she got multi-colored track lighting, fog machines, and a place so packed with bodies, every movement counted as first base.

Near some booths, Rayne overheard patrons discussing the Verses.

A short Lamia muttered, “I can’t imagine they’ll let Xelan keep his title.”

“What’re you talking about? Remorse, Razor, and Celindria were all crazy and didn’t give a shit about us. At least the Mad Emperor looks after us,” a dwarf argued.

The Lamia scoffed, “Who started calling him that? Traitor Prince, deadliest warrior in the galaxy, Mad Emperor—Is he giving himself these names?!”

A female Icarus said, “Perhaps they’re pet names from Korac? Now there’s a pair I’d like to join.”

Both men humphed.

With a bemused shake of her head, Rayne headed up. As she climbed the stairs, she glanced about and easily spotted Nox. The hood from his shirt could hide his eyes, but nothing could hide his build. He towered above everyone, even the drones. As if he sensed her watching, Nox glanced right at Rayne across the crowd.

Their pulse gave one of them away. Who knew eye contact could be so thrilling?

Rayne looked away first and focused on the mission. Elevator or stairs? She cut through the center of a chatty group to investigate the next level of wraparound catwalks—

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“Hey, gorgeous!” Someone snaked an arm around her waist, slurring as he said, “How about I get you a drink, and you hang out with us for a while?”

Rayne faced the Lamia, who dropped his arm the moment they made eye contact. He blinked, big and kinda stupid. “You… I…”

He couldn’t seem to find his words, but his date could. “Sorry, love.” The second male Lamia smiled apologetically, saying, “He’s simply never seen a woman as beautiful as you. Would you care to join us?”

“Oh, say you will,” the drone in their group said. With his needle nose and multi-faceted eyes, he looked Rayne over, but not sexually. It was more measuring. “You are the most convincing Rayne tribute I’ve ever seen.” There was something wrong with how he said it.

Rayne was already overwhelmed, but she wouldn’t allow herself to forget she was a tough, badass world savior. She beamed, and the first Lamia stepped back with a gasp as Rayne said, “Thanks so much, but I’m just trying to find a friend. Have a nice night.”

She left them without incident except for a clawing itch on the back of her neck. Rayne spared a glance behind her to see the drone…

Why was he glaring at her?

Okay. Next time, Rayne would wear a hood or a mask or something. Maybe she should invest in colored contact lenses. She made her way to the VIP rope, working on a cover story to let her inside, when something caught her eye at the bar downstairs.

The extremely busy mixologist behind the diorite counter was making time to flirt with her latest customer. Nox leaned against it, with his eyes on the crowd, and sipped a neon pink drink with an umbrella. Meanwhile, the Lyrik tending the bar ignored all her other customers to lean her breasts on the counter in his face.

They were nice breasts—God, Rayne missed boobs. But this poor woman wasn’t getting anywhere. Nox was either oblivious or politely disinterested. Rayne could tell by his heart rate and the fact that he kept scanning his surroundings for a threat. She would talk to him about socializing. They might be on a mission, but some interaction with outsiders could do them both some good.

She said as she neared a tight crowd, trying to enter the door at mezzanine’s end.

With a brief prayer to Elden, Rayne approached the rope and opened her mouth to spill the story about having a brother inside and needing to drag his ass back to his wife—

“G’head.”

The bouncer took one look at Rayne and opened the door.

Although grateful, it made her glance at her own breasts. What magic was this?

There was no time to signal Nox, and she doubted this Tritan—an older one by the lighter cast to his complexion—would let Nox in without reservation. Confident in her own capabilities, Rayne went in and immediately regretted it.

Well, at least now she knew why the bouncer had let her in.

People were having sex everywhere, in every way, with everyone. Mud pools, oil pools, food pools, hot tubs, on the counter, on the beds, on the ceiling—

Would Rayne ever forget Tameka sharing her first time with Xelan?

Rope lights were strung everywhere, glowing an ethereal cyan color, but not bright enough to illuminate a single participant’s features. Bass throbbed in Rayne’s chest from the music—Something between techno and New Age spa music. The smell—Oh, Eternity, the smell.

Florals and spices culminated in a cloud of heady sensory overload. Between the fog of pheromones and the low lighting, it was almost impossible to make anything out—

Wait.

On the far side of this vice arena was an elevator. Rayne only needed to cross the gauntlet of grabbing hands and voyeurs without drawing suspicion. Tucking loose strands behind both ears, she took a step around the first pool. The partners seemed consensual and quite happy with their decision to participate, so need to pay any further attention.

Another step, another obstacle. This time, it was a sunken hot tub from which a hand reached out and clutched Rayne’s boot while the Caprent hit their crescendo. Fortunately, she was strong enough to let them cling on and then release her once finished.

Was this night one blazing sign?

Rayne, get laid.

The next few steps were uneventful. Everyone seemed too involved in their kink to notice her. In fact, Rayne almost made it through this football field of orgasms to the door when someone whispered, “Yo.”

She silently cursed before facing whoever caught her with a wave. “Hello.” Boy, could Rayne be any less cool? It’s like she was trained by the best or something.

It was a bartender from Lukemore, which explained why he whispered rather than shouted. The young—judging by the brightness of his kelp dreads—man beamed at Rayne with genuine friendliness asking in a whisper, “Where you going, missy?”

Rayne swallowed before pointing at the ceiling. “Upstairs.”

The Luk shook his head, saying, “Not without having some fun first. You new or something?” He waved for her to follow.

Again, Rayne reminded herself she could level the space-scraper with a few well-placed punches. She followed him to his bar and sat down. Oozing inexperience, she gave a shy smile. “You caught me. I wasn’t expecting this.”

As if on cue, someone finished. Loudly.

This Luk’s jellyfish cap/kilt was blue, and it glowed to match the atmosphere. He caught her looking and winked, saying, “I’m Dagger.”

The fact that Rayne’s jaw didn’t immediately hit the bar top was a miracle. How was she so unlucky to run into the owner while trying to work her way to the top?

Please, let Nox be having better luck—

The door on the far end opened, and the devil—very handsome devil—stepped into the arena. Rayne was amused to see Nox’s reaction was at least similar to hers.

Dagger chuckled, muttering, “Newbies.”

Rayne tried to ignore Nox, pretending not to know him, and feigned a bit of shy curiosity. “So, what’s the upstairs like if this is so wild?”

The Luk quirked a kelp brow at her before saying, “Darling, if you’re too green to handle this, there’s no way you’re heading up the shaft. Get my drift?”

Okay. Innuendos, for all. Damn, Rayne wished she’d taken lessons from Lucy. After a heartbeat to collect herself, she pouted, faking eagerness and having something to prove. “I can take it.”

This time, Dagger threw his head back and laughed outright. It was a friendly sound in a whisper, but Rayne could tell he obviously modeled it after Razor. Having met the genuine article in a three-piece, she could say there was no contest. Undiluted sociopathic charm won every time.

Still, Dagger oozed sincerity like a pro. “Sweet thing, if you can climb that mountain over there without breaking into a blush, then we can talk. Until then, can I get you something to drink?”

No way in hell was Rayne drinking something from here. She didn’t even bother answering his question.

Nox.

‘Climb’ Nox and get upstairs.

On second thought, pummeling her way up sounded good, too.