I called the police. I debated whether or not it was a wise move, but once my panic subsided enough for my brain to reboot, I figured the police officers would never sign a terrified student on the list of potential suspects... or so I hoped.
Three police cars arrived to secure the crime scene and interrogate the only witness they had—me. I told my story to four different people and kept answering the same questions. I was exhausted and wished for nothing more than to finally lay my head on the pillow, but my visibly closing eyes and wobbling legs didn't make the officers any less relentless.
"So, let me get this straight." Detective Monroe, the fourth person interviewing me, cleared his throat and glanced at his notes. "The victim stole your wallet and ran to the back alley. Then someone killed him, and your wallet with all your documents landed next to his body?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "That is exactly what happened."
The detective narrowed his eyes at me. "You are surprisingly calm, Ms. Wallace. You, a twenty-two-year-old student, have seen a brutally killed man. I, as an experienced policeman, find this scene horrifying. Don't you think that your absolute composure is a bit strange?"
I wanted to tell him that I wasn't calm, only too exhausted to show vivid emotions. Then I slowly processed his words, and a bitter grimace twisted my lips. "I witnessed death before," I muttered, thinking about how my parents died in a car accident. I was six then, but their dying eyes haunted me even now. I sucked in a breath and rubbed my forearms. "The death scene I saw then was much more horrifying than this one."
The detective smiled wryly and scratched his chin. "I'm sorry to hear that."
I nodded, accepting his apology before giving him a firm stare. "Besides… before you begin to suspect me, I suggest checking the footage from the surveillance." I pointed at the camera placed on top of the building. "I was standing here when that happened, and the footage will prove it."
Detective Monroe laughed. "Why do you think I would suspect you?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Just saying." But I did know why. I was Miss Bad Luck, and bad things happened to me all the time. And speaking about bad luck... I drew a deep breath and clenched my fists to muster more courage. "Sir… I would like to ask about the money from my wallet... I know that it might sound inappropriate, but I was going to pay the rent tomorrow morning, and—"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Wallace." He gave me a pitying stare. "We need to collect everything for the forensics. We can send a note to your bank, but the formalities may take a while."
"H-how long?" I choked out.
He sighed and scratched his chin again. "A month, perhaps two."
Air escaped my lungs in a rush. There was no way that my landlord would agree to wait that long! I could beg him for an extra day, maybe two, but a month?! A groan of desperation broke through my throat.
"You may go home now, Ms. Wallace," the detective tossed before giving me a curt nod of his head and walking toward the crime scene.
Perhaps there was something incredibly wrong with me because, for me, the gruesome death of that thief became completely irrelevant in comparison to losing a month's worth of money. "What am I going to do now?" I mumbled, my face turning from pale to translucent.
"Excuse me." I heard a man's voice behind me. I turned around and saw another police officer in uniform. The police cap formed a shadow that covered most of his face, revealing only his full lips curved into a half-smile. "I sincerely apologize. I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, but it appears to me that you are in need of a job and money." The deep, magnetic tone of his voice, perfect enunciation, and strange accent sounded nothing like what I would expect to hear from a local policeman. In any other circumstances, I would have found a semi-polite way to tell him that my problems were not his business, but my desperation grew by the second.
I smiled nervously and nodded. "My money for rent sank in the blood of the dead man."
He chuckled, elegantly covering those lips of his with a hand. It was yet another gesture that felt odd. All the other policemen at the scene had either a frown on their foreheads or their lips twisted in disgust. This man seemed peculiarly serene, and now he was even laughing. "My friend owns a club. They are looking for waitresses. I believe that you might call the salary they offer… satisfying. I even think that you might earn more than four digits over a single night," he said, handing me a business card.
I swallowed hard. Was he serious?! If he was, a job like this could save my life! I looked down and drew my pads over the expensive, engraved paper. "Regale Sanguis," I read the club's name and stared at the policeman with suspicion-filled eyes.
He laughed and waved his hand, reacting as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. "Please, they don't sell drugs there, and it's not a brothel. This place is absolutely legal."
I smiled more than nervously. "I have never met a policeman recruiting waitresses for the nightclub. Isn't that a bit… weird?"
He shrugged. "You're not underage, and you are in need. I do not run a recruitment campaign. I nearly offered my assistance. I don't see anything inappropriate about it." Then his smile spread into a madly seductive grin. "By the way, I'm Calvel."
My mouth opened, and, for a moment, I forgot how to speak. Then I cleared my throat. "I'm Nala. Nice to meet—"
Suddenly, I heard someone shouting. The sound came from the crime scene behind us. I turned around and sighed in relief, realizing it was just a trivial argument among the technicians. I shifted back toward Calvel. I had a few questions concerning that club. I was about to ask the first one, but he was already gone. I tried to spot him among the same-looking uniformed policemen, but my struggle lasted the whole ten seconds before my low-on-adrenaline system directed my feet toward home, my bed, and my pillow.
***
The sleep hadn't come. Despite my agonizing exhaustion, I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning on the bed. My heart pounded at an erratic pace. My brain kept displaying images of the dead thief with the flesh of his neck splayed within a three-foot radius. Every time I recalled that bloody scene, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Maybe I wasn't as immune to grotesque as I thought I was, or maybe it was the awareness that if I had been seen by the killer, I could have ended up dead myself.
"Focus, Nala. Focus!" I told myself, trying to erase the whole horrible event from my head. Unknowingly, I pulled out the business card Calvel had given me and locked my eyes on the refined logo. I had waited tables before. I even worked as a bartender for five months. But I had never worked at a nightclub. The sole sound of that word made me think of girls dressed provocatively, trying to satisfy the customers with something more than just serving drinks. All my self-preservation instincts screamed in panic at the mere thought of going there.
My inner debate lasted until eight o'clock. I had made the decision a minute before the landlord came for the rent. I told him about everything that had happened last night, but, of course, he didn't believe me. Then I spent an additional thirty minutes begging him, which resulted in postponing my execution by three days. The relief forced tears from my eyes and a wide smile from my lips... until I realized my chances of survival were still slim.
I spent the next hour staring at the Regale Sanguis business card. Then I made a call. A female answered.
"Yes, the recruitment starts today at nine. Our candidates are requested to wear something… enticing for the recruitment process," she said.
I gulped. Her description seemed to confirm my darkest concerns about working there. "Enticing?" I repeated softly, and she snorted.
"Don't worry. No one will touch you… unless you are willing," she encouraged.
Hysterical laughter built in my throat. What the hell was I getting myself into?! I instantly recalled Sarah ridiculing my work... Now I started to think that she might be a prophet. The problem was, I was never the slutty type, and I would never sell my body. I would rather die than lose my dignity.
Of course, I considered selling my soul to a handsome demon more than once, but only while I was reading a smutty romance novel, and only because demons did not exist.
An hour later, desperation took the best of me. It was the final semester of my senior year. The graduation was so close. I worked hard to get that diploma. It was my ticket to a better life.
"Maybe I'm overreacting... Maybe it's just another job, only a well-paid one?" I calmed myself down while standing in front of a mirror and putting on makeup.
The only "enticing" piece of clothing I had was a little black dress that I bought several years ago and wore once—on a blind date that lasted only until I introduced myself. Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one who liked the dress. A few weeks ago, I found a rat in my closet. Now I realized that the annoying rodent used the black cotton and lace to sharpen his tiny claws, turning my fine dress into a pile of shreds...
I shouted out a curse or a few… hundred curses. Then I finally left my apartment wearing a white top, a pair of blue jeans, and sneakers—the only clothes that didn't have holes and appeared to not be too worn. I untied my wavy blond hair, letting it fall loose over my shoulders. That was the only thing that I could do to look “enticing.”
After an hour-long ride on the bus, I got in front of something resembling an industrial building with a high-end touch. A long line of young women stood outside. They all looked like supermodels, and they all looked as if they were loaded with money, making me wonder what they were even doing here looking for a job. Among their designer brand dresses and shoes, I surely stood out, but not in a good way…
"Hey, Cinderella! Are you lost?" One of the girls laughed.
I ignored her and walked to the end of the line. We waited for a few more minutes before the door opened, and a tall man with reddish-brown hair greeted us at the entrance.
"My dear ladies, my name is Nicor. I'm the manager here. Welcome to the Regale Sanguis." He bowed low, gesturing at us to walk inside.
The club's interior resembled a subtle mix of the nineteenth-century castle's ballroom and modern hall, with raw bricks and metallic ornaments. There was a round bar in the center and rows of discreet alcoves with booth seatings on each side. The manager told us to stand in a circle.
"Now, I will select a few of you. Those few will get the job," he said.
"That's it?" one of the girls blurted out, crossing her arms over her overly exposed chest. "You won't even ask if we have any work experience?"
Nicor chuckled. "I don't need to ask, darling. I WILL know."
His answer sent chills down my spine. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation, but his sudden stare at me only increased the restlessness. He looked me up and down, scanning my sneakers, jeans, and top, and making me want to become invisible.
"Interesting," he commented, raising one eyebrow, before moving on to the next candidate.
My hands folded in my waist, and I stepped back as if a Cinderella could possibly hide among the crowd of goddesses. Then I felt someone else's gaze on me. It made my head turn to the side and drew my eyes to the upper floor. A wave of heat washed over me. "God..." I muttered breathlessly as my eyes swept over the man standing on the balcony.
He was wearing a black suit and a black shirt underneath a perfectly tailored jacket, which emphasized his broad shoulders and strong arms. A few strands of his slightly curly black hair elegantly fell on his perfectly carved face. But it wasn't his full, sultry lips, the sharp line of his jaw, the unbelievably underlined cheekbones, or these silky strands of hair that made my heart stop—it was his gaze on me. His black eyes pierced right through me as if he could strip me layer by layer until he could see my dreams, my fantasies, and read every shameful aspect of my soul.
Another heartbeat came only after he shifted his gaze elsewhere. The sudden relief made my whole body tremble. My head began to spin, forcing my eyes to watch over my off-balanced feet. It took me a moment to save myself from falling, but when I glanced back at the balcony, the mysterious man was already gone.
"Ms. Wallace, right?" Nicor patted my shoulder, startling me.
I turned toward him, stretching my lips into a nervous smile. "Yes?"
He smirked, once again scanning me from head to toe. "Congratulations," he then said. "You are hired."
I stared at the manager in disbelief, and I wasn't the only one; all the other candidates stared at him in absolute shock. This wasn't just about the fact that I got the job, but because I was the ONLY ONE who got it.I watched as the other girls exited the club, glaring at me and cursing me in a variety of languages. All those years of bullying should have made me stronger, but I guess I was too sensitive to people's hatred, and the cumulation of their emotions hit me with a vicious blast. Suddenly, my chest became too tight for my lungs to expand. I sipped tiny, insufficient bits of air that only made my heart pound harder. A sharp, high-pitched sound pierced my ears, bringing dizziness and nausea and making me want to curl under the nearest table. A panic attack.Two strong hands landed on my shoulders, the touch flooding me with surprising serenity. "I thought that getting a job is a good thing, or am I wrong?" Nicor chuckled.A tight squeeze on my chest lessened, and I slowly rai
"Come in." I heard the man's deep voice as I opened the door. "I've been waiting for you, Nala." My name came out of his lips as a breathy whisper—a promise of sinful pleasure.I swallowed and stepped into his office. "Close the door behind you," he said. "I want no one interrupting us." Every word he spoke filled me with anticipation.I finally mustered the courage to look at him. He was leaning against the front of his desk, his fingers curling on the edge of the desktop. One side of his lips gently curved as his eyes devoured me from head to toe. I stepped toward him and felt a shiver as if I was crossing an electric field that surrounded him. "Come closer," he urged, drawing his teeth through his lower lip."Mr. Malachious, I don't think we should be doing this." My words were the exact opposite of what I wanted.He huffed a chuckle, and it must have been the most sensual sound I had ever heard since I instantly squeezed my thighs. Then he shrugged off his suit jacket and undid th
I sat on the bed and stared at the credit card Nicor had given me. I needed that money, but I suddenly began to wonder if I hadn't gotten myself engaged in some kind of shady business. Fine, the fact that Detective Monroe had no idea who Calvel was could have a simple and reasonable explanation. Maybe this Calvel was new or recently transferred. Or maybe he was off duty, working in some other department, and he saw police cars and decided to stop and ask if they needed help… That would sound reasonable, right?I collapsed on my bed and groaned. Certainly, if I had relied on common sense, I probably should have assumed that there were no such things as policemen recruiting girls to work as waitresses in a high-end club just when they desperately needed a well-paid job. Actually, I should have put Calvel right next to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny... except that he existed, and now I had real money in my pocket and a credit card with ten thousand dollars on it.I groaned again and sl
Breath caught in my throat as I watched the steel construction fall where Merissa stood. It might have lasted less than a second, but time slowed down for me as it happened. I felt a sharp burst of wind brushing against my skin just before a hundred glittering crystals crashed against the floor. Horror widened my eyes as I tried to notice Merissa among the pile of dust. Then I found her lying on the floor on the left side of the stairs, almost unharmed. I exhaled with something close to relief, but then I froze, thinking about another person who stood near her. The dust fell, and I saw Ash standing next to the spot where Merissa was lying. He seemed unfazed, brushing off the dirt from his suit jacket. God… Even in a situation like this, he looked impeccable and mouthwatering. It took me an additional few seconds before I acknowledged Nicor's hand still resting on my waist. I shifted my feet, inching my heels deeper into the step. Nicor's feet were on the same step as mine. He stood o
I spent more than an hour staring at my ankle and testing its mobility. It seemed perfectly fine, but as I recalled all my previous injuries, I became highly aware that none of them healed so fast. Now, I could either assume that my ankle wasn't as badly twisted as I thought, or stick to the bizarre theory that my boss miraculously appeared in my room and gave me something that might have been a magic potion, which healed me. The latter sounded ridiculous—my entire dream seemed ridiculous! Anyone who would even suggest that whatever happened in my dream was real should have questioned their sanity! But I couldn't ignore the fact that, in the typical blur of my surroundings, all my dreams with Ash had one extremely vivid element—him.I couldn't explain it, but he, his scent, his touch, his whole goddamn presence felt real. I shook my head as if it could possibly chase the thoughts of him away from me. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. I took a deep breath and then another one, summoning
I didn't have Carrie's number. I didn't have her twin sister's number either. I asked the other girls, but it seemed like I was the only one who heard the scream. How was that even possible? The shriek had sliced the air in the entire club, making people's heads snap toward the upper floor, but when I asked around, no one could recall hearing anything strange.It bothered me. It scared me. I might have tried to convince my mind that I heard wrong, that it was just my gloomy imagination, and I would have... if only I could talk to Carrie.I couldn't sleep. I was lying in my bed with my eyes fixed on the ceiling. My heart painfully pounded against my ribcage. Perhaps my fears were irrational. I knew that Carrie, Carol, and I were all scheduled for Friday. I knew that I would have to wait until then, hoping that Carrie would come over and laugh out my darkest assumptions.Maybe I was just paranoid. Even if someone had screamed then, it could have been anyone—a staff member or a client—an
Something stirred inside me, heated my blood, and electrified every fiber. The tiny bubbles of inner energy grew until they erupted in my muscles, as if my scream had activated them. Suddenly, my arms tensed, and I pushed the blond-haired man away from me before his teeth pierced through my skin.This had to be a nightmare. Things like that couldn't possibly be real. My mind was unable to rise above panic mode or rationally plan my next move. I stood still, trembling, as my eyes locked on the guy who tried to bite me.He stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock as if I were the first to defy him. Then his lips instantly curled up, and his eyes filled with something savage and wicked. The rest of the beast-like men stopped feasting as their eyes shifted to me. I glanced at their victims—the limp, barely conscious waitresses. Their gazes seemed blank, while their lips slightly curled as if they were actually enjoying being drained of blood. For a moment, nausea had won against other ex
I stopped breathing. My heart might have stopped beating for a moment as well. An avalanche of icicles fell down my spine as I looked at those three men in the room, and my sense of security dissolved in the air. I stared at the crimson flare in Nicor's eyes and felt the panic building inside me."We're not going to hurt you, Nala." Ash's deep voice made my head snap in his direction. He stepped toward me, and I wished I could sink into the wall I was leaning against. "No one can bite you unless you are willing."I groaned in frustration. "What does it even mean?" I looked at Nicor and the other man and watched uncomfortable grimaces appear. My frustration turned into anger. "I highly doubt if those waitresses were"—I air-quoted with my fingers—"willing."The man with white hair chuckled. "They thought they were, and in the eyes of the council, that's all that matters."His words confused me even more, but something aside from his words caught my attention. I didn't realize it when he