Prophylaxis - 6. Chapter 6

When I woke Saturday I felt better than I'd anticipated. It was just after ten in the morning, I love me some sleeping in. I stretched and took stock. The left side of my face was still pretty sore, but the right didn't hurt at all. My tummy only hurt when I poked at it. My wrist was a warm ache. Other than that I just felt a bit stiff. I got up to hunt down some ibuprofen and get ready to go. I didn't have to meet the client until six, so plenty of time.

I looked myself over in the bathroom mirror. It didn't look like I was going to end up with a shiner. I was pleased as punch about that. I experimented with a few different ways to do my hair. I hate having my hair in my face, but for today I'd part it and let it hang a bit. The bruising wasn't completely hidden, but it wasn't too noticeable that way. It would have to do. Not like this was a modeling gig anyway.

I changed the bandage on my wrist and checked the cut. It looked like it was going to heal up fine. Heavy sadness tried to pull me down as I wrapped it back up but I shook it off. Yesterday was shit, but that was yesterday. Today was not going to be shit because I said so, motherfucker.

Even with plenty of dinking around, I was out the door by twelve. I paused on the porch. The swing swayed gently, though there wasn't a breeze. I set my hand on the seat, stilling its movement. Remnants of emotions swirled from the still warm seat. Protectiveness. Concern. Regret.

Guy. Fuck.

He must have just taken off, probably when he heard me coming to the door. Had he camped out all night on my swing? That sounded cold and uncomfortable. I looked around but didn't see him. He'd probably been making sure Lester didn't come back and catch me alone. Shit, it was going to be hard to stay mad at Guy. I sighed and tromped off to my car, throwing my suitcase and favorite pillow in the backseat.

With traffic that wasn't terrible, it took me less than four hours to reach my hotel in Chicago. That was too much time to ponder. Even with the radio loud and my sometimes questionable singing louder, my head still spun with it. I didn't know what to do. About anything. I was feeling more forgiving toward Guy, though I was still kind of pissed that he had tried to strong-arm me into what could have been a very unpleasant hospital stay. He knew too much about me now, too. He was in the business of protecting people and it seemed to come naturally to him. He'd probably felt bad for me and wanted to look out for me. That was going to get annoying fast. He certainly wouldn't want to fuck me anymore. He knew too much about me now. He'd pat me on the head and fuss over my owies instead. I'd just be another case, another project. What a pain in the ass. I had been all ready to jump him, too, dammit. Now I wasn't going to get any. Well, Chicago was a happening place. I'd just have to find someone cute to scratch my itch. Someone to help me forget, forget everything. I'd just try to avoid anyone with hazel eyes and hair the color of chocolate. When I got back, Guy would probably happily leave me alone once he was sure Lester wasn't going to be a problem anymore.

That was the big problem. Lester. I couldn't seem to figure out a way to get rid of him, at least not one that didn't end with me in an orange jumpsuit and a felony conviction. I hate orange. The only thing I could think of was talking to him again. The thought made my stomach turn. I'd have to meet him somewhere public, with other people around. If he wouldn't see reason I'd have to talk to a lawyer, see if it would even be possible to get a restraining order. I could tell the judge I needed one and why, that didn't mean they'd believe me and give it to me. Even if I got the order, it was just paper and ink. It wouldn't actually stop him from doing anything, just get him in more trouble later if he tried. I fingered the bruise across my cheekbone. He didn't seem to sweat possible assault charges. Would he really care about an extra charge of violating a restraining order?

I didn't know what to do.

I shook my head. There was nothing I could do about it now anyway. I was out of the state. I was away from Lester. Hopefully an idea would come to me, probably when I wasn't freaking about it. Worrying got me nowhere, solved nothing. I took a breath and let it out slowly. I stomped down my fear and worry, shoving it down into a dark little box deep inside. It could hang out in there with all the other things I didn't want to think and feel. They could have a tea party.

I changed the music and turned it up.

I was happy the hotel room was clean enough to stay in. Sometimes I had to request a different room. This one didn't have too many traces of others. Hotels weren't generally places people lingered, so there was less emotional imprinting. If the cleaning crew was halfway decent and nothing too traumatic had happened there, a little minor cleaning was all that was needed. I snagged two spray bottles from my suitcase. One was my usual disinfectant. I used this to quickly wipe down the hard surfaces, including the bathroom. The other was an enzymatic cleaner. I found it in the pet section. It was specifically for Fido's accidents on the carpet. The label also claimed it was effective for vomit and blood. I spritzed the two chairs then shucked the coverlet from the bed. I touched it as little as possible and flung it into a corner. They almost never washed those. Ick. I sprayed down the blanket and held my hands over the pillows and sheets. The sheets were clean. The pillows weren't bad. I'd leave them on the bed, but I'd keep my head on the pillow I'd brought from home. It was good enough. Once it dried the cleaner smell would go away. Everything should be dry by the time I got back from the job. Easy peasy.

I wasn't going to have a babysitter take me to the job this time, which was peachy. I got myself a quick bite to eat, made sure I had the directions the client had sent me, and headed out. I pulled around into the back lot of The Lumberyard. Christ, what a fucking name. The sign out front let me know that Wednesday was ladies' night. How nice for them. I wondered if that meant Wednesday was a night for women to come strip or to come watch the stripping. I was let in the back door by a brute of a man in black jeans and a t-shirt that looked in danger of ripping from the muscles underneath. He felt peaceful and nonthreatening, in spite of his appearance, so I followed him. We passed a few offices and what looked like a large dressing room. There were quite a few people in the dressing room. I didn't see any women, but we passed quickly so I couldn't be sure. The next door was closed. The bouncer who led me in knocked gently then opened the door. He gestured me inside, but didn't follow. It looked like a conference room, with a long table with a dozen chairs around it. There was a sink and mini-bar at the end with a few cupboards. The only odd thing was the shiny silver pole that stuck out of the middle of the table and connected with the ceiling. I could just imagine some big-boobed betty in a g-string twirling around it. That would certainly spice up a meeting. There was a light-haired middle-aged man in a sharp suit sitting at the end of the table. Another bouncer-type in a similar shirt and jeans combo as I'd seen on the first was leaning over, talking quietly to him. He straightened and stopped talking when I walked in. The suited man stood and smiled an unnaturally white smile. From this distance I couldn't tell if it was whitening, porcelain crowns, or veneers. Veneers was my first guess.

“Mr. Williams, so glad you could make it.” He gestured me to the seat across from him. “I'm James Fontanel, but please call me Jim.” He didn't try to shake my hand, which I appreciated. There was a small recorder sitting on the table between us, that one was mostly for show. I knew he had a fancier one tucked somewhere with the microphone hidden somewhere near us. We'd gone over it during preliminaries. It was always nice when the client took care of recordings. One less thing for me to worry about and be responsible for.

I returned his smile and sat. “Please, call me Mick.”

Nope, not veneers. Definitely crowns. Not bad ones really. I enjoyed aesthetic dentistry, but it wasn't something everyone would go for. Iowa City was far from Hollywood. A lot of people just wanted functionality, and there was nothing wrong with that. I pulled myself away from pondering what lab his dentist used and noticed something else, Jim wasn't human and neither was this bouncer. The other bouncer had felt human, though I knew I couldn't always tell. I'd learned that from the internet forums Guy had shown me. Some of my patients were less human than I'd thought they were. I wouldn't be assuming anymore.

“Is there anything you need before we get started?” Jim asked me.

I shook my head and pulled out my little bottle of hand sanitizer. I gave myself a squirt and then set it on the table. I'd no doubt be needing it again before long. “This is fine. Will you both be staying during the interviews?”

“Yes.” They said in unison. How cute.

“That's fine. Just don't crowd me too much. I may ask you to step back if I feel like I'm getting interference, okay?” I smiled my bright professional smile, shiny but meaningless. It tugged my cheek and sent a twinge up to my temple. I should have taken some ibuprofen before I came. Oh, well, too late now. “I'll ask some starting questions and then I'll nod to you when I'm ready for you to begin. I'm ready for the first person when you are.”

I liked this sort of job. It was relatively easy and not too physically or emotionally taxing. I normally thought of it as 'The Human Lie-Detector', but now that I knew I wasn't actually human I wondered what I should call it. In this case someone had been skimming money from the business, a lot of money. They thought it was an employee but they didn't know who. No one had quit or been fired, so the culprit should still be around. Every employee, from top management down to the guy who cleans the toilet, was brought in for a 'mandatory meeting'. I'd be seeing them one at a time. If I was lucky, things would move quickly.

I was halfway done and things were both lucky and unlucky. Lucky because things were moving quickly. I'd had no trouble reading anyone. Unlucky because, so far, everyone seemed to be innocent. Well, at least innocent of embezzlement and theft. We'd discovered a few other interesting things. One employee was underage and had been working under his brother's name and papers. He was pretty upset that he would be losing his job and Jim was pretty pissed about being lied to. Another employee was a spy for a strip joint in another area of the city. I wasn't sure just what kind of corporate espionage went on in the exotic dancing business, but Jim was livid. I found the whole thing pretty amusing. What big secrets were there? Was there a special spray-tan formulation that made the skin look best under the lights? Maybe there was a super-advanced lapdance technique that made more tips but was better for the dancers' backs. Ergonomics is always important. That employee was escorted out. He wouldn't be working that night. A few people were reprimanded for the strip club equivalent of stealing office supplies.

My favorite was the guy who was pocketing bottles of the bubbly soap they used in the special shower/bath stage they apparently had. That show sounded interesting, not that I'd ever be caught dead in a strip club. Not for moral reasons. I just couldn't imagine how doped up I'd need to be to rub elbows with the lechers ready to stick their dollar bills where the sun don't shine. I might have to jump onto the shower stage mid-set to wash the emotional smut off. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. I couldn't imagine it would be good, though.

Most of the employees felt human, some didn't. One definitely felt like a werewolf. I was starting to feel familiar with that wolfy tingle. A few of the management staff were women. All the dancers were men. I had to admit I was enjoying myself. Not all the dancers were to my taste, but they were all certainly handsome. Some were clearly going to be working that night, and I quietly ogled their skimpy outfits and gleaming skin. I know I'm a pig, I have no shame. I was surprised by how content the majority of the employees were. They seemed happy enough with their pay and tips. No one seemed to be upset by what they were doing. More than a few honestly seemed to like dancing. The reasons felt different for each. One liked to be watched and admired. He got off on it. Another just loved to dance and move. Some had friends they worked with and got along well with the staff. I suppose I expected more shame and angst. Maybe it was different for female strippers or at different clubs. It felt surprisingly mundane, just a job to pay the bills.

I didn't run into anything very difficult until I was maybe three-fourths done with the interviews. The next employee I saw definitely looked like a dancer, though he wasn't dressed for work that night. It was a shame, I'd have liked to see him wearing a bit less than jeans and a shiny silver shirt. He was cute as pie and twice as yummy. I normally wasn't into gingers but I would have made an exception for this one. Just looking at him drew me in, I wasn't sure what it was. His skin was creamy and fair. When he sat I noticed the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Freckles, Jesus. Cute. His lashes were thick and darker than his hair, framing emerald green eyes. He was maybe my height, maybe a little shorter, it was hard to tell. There was something about him that made me want to touch, to feel his skin, see if it was soft. His eyes caught mine and he smiled like he knew a secret. I shivered. I was startled out of staring by the door unexpectedly opening and shutting.

“Nico!” Jim called. “You made it!”

I pulled my eyes away from the sweet dish in front of me to have them snared by the hot piece that waltzed in the door. It was easy to see this one was taller than me. His hair was a deep rich black. At first I thought it was cut short, but when he turned I realized it was pulled into a tight braid that slid down his back. His cheekbones sat high without dominating his face and angled down to the curve of his jaw, there his jaw angled again to his chin. The lines pulled my eyes to his lips, a soft curve on the bottom and a sharper bow on the top. My gaze swept over his body. I could see the graceful curve of muscles pull the fabric of his shirt. He looked strong even without bulk, like a martial-artist or a dancer. That would make sense if he was a dancer at the club, I wondered if he was. His skin was a creamy tan. That along with a slight uptilt at the edge of thick-lashed eyes under angled brows suggested he was at least partly Asian. I felt a little racist that his long lean body made me think 'martial-artist' first and 'dancer' second just because he was Asian. I felt less racist because I didn't give a shit if he was Asian or not, I wanted to whip off his clothes and lick him all over.

I so needed to get laid. Jesus. I should have been more mentally prepared for the sheer volume of eye-candy tempting me at a job for a male strip joint. Thank god for the table to hide the tent in my pants. Between the green-eyed boy and the ebony-braided hottie, my cock was sitting up and begging.

The man took the seat next to Jim, clapping him on the shoulder. Closer now, I saw his eyes. I'd expected them to be dark, but instead they were a warm golden amber. I thought for a moment they had to be contacts, people just didn't have eyes like that. Then I felt him, a warm presence blowing across my skin. Humans didn't have eyes like that, but he wasn't human.

“I'm very sorry to be late.” He said. “Please, continue.”

I looked at Jim, who nodded. I turned back to the flame-haired man.

“I'm Mick.” I smiled my standard benign friendly smile. “I just want to talk to you a bit, and then Jim wants to ask you a few things. This probably won't take long and we'll let you get back to your evening.”

The young man smiled at me shyly and nodded. My fingers tingled. I wanted to touch him, cup his face in my hands and press my cheek to his. I wanted to kiss him, just to feel his lips against mine. I was startled to realize the feeling wasn't mine, it was his. He wanted to touch me. I normally didn't have this much trouble separating my own feelings from others' when I wasn't even touching. When I was younger it had been a real problem. It had taken time and an embarrassing amount of introspection, but I rarely had trouble with it anymore unless I was very tired or stressed.

I was a little disappointed this was a no touching gig, I wouldn't mind rubbing skin with this one. “This should be easy and painless.” I told him. “Put your hands on the table and I'll hold mine above them without touching you. Just keep your hands still and on the table.”

He was also disappointed there wouldn't be any touching, but he followed my directions. My fingers and palms hovered over his. His aura, for lack of a better word, felt odd to me like something wasn't right. I couldn't know for sure since he wasn't human. Hell, I didn't know what he was. Maybe this was how he was supposed to feel, but I couldn't understand why he felt like deception when I hadn't even asked him a question.

“So, do you dance here or work in the offices?” I asked gently.

The side of his mouth pulled up in a half grin. “I dance.”

It felt true, but it was hard to tell through the strange hum in his aura. I looked to Jim and he nodded. Okay, it was true.

“I'm learning that the dancers usually have a name they use when they're dancing. What's yours?”

“Riley Red.” He smirked. “I wasn't feeling very creative when they had me choose.”

I had to look to Jim, who nodded again. Truth. It shouldn't be this difficult to feel his honesty when the questions were simple. This could be a pain in the ass when the questions got harder.

Maybe I needed to start simpler to get a better feel for him. “What day is it?”

He blinked at me. “Umm, Saturday?”

“What color is my shirt?”

“Blue.” He answered hesitantly.

I asked him several simple questions without much more luck. I finally pulled my hands back.

“I'm having trouble.” I had to admit, and turned to Jim. “I know what he's saying is true, but I still feel,” I wiggled my fingers in the air, “something not true.”

The black-haired man, Jim had called him Nico, frowned. “Drop your glamour, Riley. It's interfering with his abilities.”

I wondered what the hell glamour was and why it would mess me up, but kept my mouth shut.

Jim looked to Nico. “He's using a glamour?”

Nico nodded to Jim and turned his amber eyes back to Riley. “You need to drop it. We won't tell anyone.”

Riley sighed. “I liked this job.”

Nico reached across the table and patted Riley's hand. “You still have a job as long as you haven't been lying about anything else. You can have your glamour back when we're done talking.”

Riley turned to me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I'll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Pardon?” I blinked at him.

“Riley.” Nico said sternly.

Riley sighed again. “Fine.”

The air around him wavered, like light on water. When it passed he looked the same, but not. The clothes didn't change, or the style of his hair. But now instead of the orange ginger his hair had been it looked like all the colors of an orange-red flame. In places it was a deep reddish-brown, then it faded to true orange. In other spots it was yellow fading to a creamy white. His eyes were still green, but they were luminous. A ring of pale mint circled his pupils then darkened to a deep grass green at the outer edge of his iris. His freckles were gone, skin fair and unblemished but a little less pale, a little more kissed by the sun. When his head turned to glance at Nico I noticed his ear now had a slight point at the top. I wanted to nibble it. He'd been attractive before, damn sexy really. But it was like I'd seen him through dirty glass, faded and smudged. It was an amazing transformation.

Jim startled me out of my staring.

“You little elfin snot, you told me you were a fourth pixie!”

Riley's shoulders hunched.

Nico snorted. “You believed that?”

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?” Jim crossed his arms over his chest. “You sure didn't tell me any different.”

“I thought you were kidding!” Nico laughed.

“Fuck.” Jim sighed, running a hand over his face. “Let's do this. I sure as hell have more questions for him now.” He turned to me. “Can you try again now that he's not glamoured?”

I nodded. I couldn't even start to wade through the subtext in the room, but I could do my fucking job. I had Riley put his hands back on the table and I hovered mine over his again. There was no confusion this time. He came through so clear I had to keep checking to make sure I wasn't accidentally touching him. Whatever he was, he was a serious broadcaster. I got my little baseline finished with only a hiccup when I asked for his real name. He looked offended and everyone else in the room looked at me like I was stupid. Nico informed me that Riley wouldn't tell someone his real name, he was Fae after all. I pretended that made sense to me and finished my baseline, then nodded to Jim that he could start asking questions.

“Let's get this out of the way right off, you stealing from us?” Jim sounded surly as fuck.

Riley shook his head. “Never.”

I nodded to Jim, Riley wasn't lying.

“Did you help someone else steal the money?”

“No.”

Truth. I gave Jim another nod.

“Do you have any idea who did it?” Nico asked.

Riley didn't know.

They asked a few more pointed questions about the stolen money. The wording seemed more careful and precise than it had been with the others we'd questioned, like they were trying to catch him in a lie. He really didn't seem to know anything about it. As they talked I indicated Riley was telling the truth each time he spoke.

“Right then, you aren't here stealing.” Jim leaned back in his seat. “You're from one of the courts?”

Riley nodded.

“Light or Dark?” Jim asked.

“I am... was Seelie.” Riley's eyes fell to the floor.

“They kicked you out?” Jim asked pointedly.

“Jesus.” Nico huffed. “You have no tact, Jim.”

Riley answered his question though. “Yes. Exiled.” His hands clenched together.

I was so fucking lost. I needed Cliff Notes for this conversation. I was curious as hell, but it wasn't my job to understand, it was my job to let the clients know if this person was lying his ass off. So far he'd seemed completely honest. He was extremely upset, however. The distress came off him in waves. It didn't feel like it was entirely from being questioned and forced to let go of his glamour. Quite a bit of his anxiety seemed to be directed towards me. I was the least scary thing in the room, I had no idea why he'd be worried about me. The only thing I could think of was he was worried about something I'd find out. We'd see.

“Why were you exiled?” Nico asked gently.

Riley sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Adultery.”

Nico flinched. The look on his face was as if Riley had said something much worse, like he'd just admitted to giving blowjobs to lepers for crank.

“It was a mistake.” Riley choked. “A terrible mistake. I thought... He was so unhappy.” His voice stumbled. “She was so cruel to him. I just wanted...” He looked to Nico. “At least the Unseelie allow divorce. He was going to be stuck with her forever. I'd never wished to live in the Dark Court before that. If we'd been Unseelie he could have divorced her. But she won't allow divorce.” Riley spat. “So he was trapped. He was so sad, I thought I could be his friend. And then... then it was more.” His head fell into his hands. “Then it was too late.”

His eyes were desolate when his face lifted. “They killed him.” He whispered. “Execution for breaking oath.”

I couldn't help my gasp of shock and Riley's eyes flicked up to mine.

“For a while I wished to die, as well.” His words felt like a confession just for me. “But I couldn't. I was too weak.”

Eventually, I'd learn much more about the Fae courts. What I didn't understand at the time was that the great crime Riley'd been involved in hadn't really been about sex. The problem was that Riley's lover was married and had made certain promises to his wife. The couple had made vows to be monogamous. Many didn't make such vows and they could fuck around like drunk bunnies without repercussions. Unfortunately, Riley's lover was trapped in a vow that the wife wouldn't release him from and divorce wasn't an option. Breaking an oath was a big damned deal to Fae.

Riley and his lover were judged. Riley was punished for helping break an oath, even though he hadn't taken an oath himself. I would never make a fucking pinkie-swear again. But at the time, in that room I didn't understand the law, couldn't fathom the cruelty. Riley's pain washed over me, and it seemed so pointless. That guy fucking around on his wife had been a dick move, but this was awfully extreme.

I was overcome with the need to touch Riley, I couldn't stop myself this time. It didn't matter the need wasn't mine. I turned to face him and leaned forward, capturing him and pulling him to me. I tugged him practically into my lap and tucked him under my chin. He snuggled his cheek into my neck and let out a ragged sigh while his fingers clenched my shirt. I squeezed him gently and hushed him. The only sound in the room was Riley's harsh breathing. I expected to cuddle him for a minute or two and then let him settle back down in his own chair. That was becoming a problem, however. I couldn't seem to open my arms to shuffle him back to his own seat. This was starting to feel awkward, and no one was saying anything.

“Umm...” I looked to Jim and then to Nico. “I'm stuck.”

“Riley,” Nico said gently, “you need to let go.”

Riley hesitantly released his wrinkling grip on my shirt. I immediately pulled him closer, sheltering him in my arms. Well, that hadn't been on purpose.

“I can't let go.” I felt my face heat. This was unprofessional and embarrassing.

I watched Nico as he stood and came around the table. He laid a careful hand on Riley's back. I hugged him tighter. Jesus, could the guy even breath at this point? I felt like I was squeezing the life out of him.

“How long since you left court?” Nico asked softly.

Riley's face was buried in my neck, muffling his voice. “Almost eighty... eighty years.”

Holy fuck.

“Have you been with any Fae since then?” Nico gently stroked Riley's back.

Riley's face wiggled side to side against my throat. I thought that was a no.

“There are others outside the court, Riley...” Nico began.

Riley cut him off. “I don't deserve it. He's dead because of me. I don't deserve the comfort.”

Riley's despair and guilt ate at my heart like acid. It twisted and burned in my chest. How had he lived like this for so long.

Nico sighed and stood. “He's skin-starved.”

Jim blinked in surprise. “I thought that was a myth. That really happens?”

Nico nodded sadly.

I was getting tired of being confused. I could try poking around in Riley's emotions to get some insight, but I wouldn't. That would be an extra-super shitty thing to do. I never read my sister's diary when I was a kid, either. I'd feel like a fucking creeper.

In the end, Jim and the bouncer carefully peeled my arms off Riley. No one grabbed my cut by accident, so that was good. When they had my arms out far enough, Nico tugged Riley out of my lap and urged him to his feet. He was able to guide him to the other side of the room. Jim and the bouncer released my arms but eyed me warily, like I might chase down Riley or go hug-crazy on one of them. Instead I grabbed my hand sanitizer and spread it over my hands. For good measure, I rubbed it across my neck and throat where Riley had nuzzled in.

When I looked over, Nico had an arm around Riley's shoulders and was pressing a card into his hand. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote something extra on the card as Riley held it. Nico patted Riley on the shoulder and nodded at the door. Riley took a deep breath as the air rippled around him. His hair was simple reddish-gold again. It seemed dull after seeing how it should be, like fire. His gaze flicked to mine and then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Well, that was overly exciting. Fuck. I was going to need a break before I saw the next person. I was hoping that the rest of the interviews were simple and easy. No more accidental snuggles.

I took ten minutes for a break and went out the back. I took a stroll around the back parking lot, a bouncer kept an eye on me from the door. I'm not sure if he was making sure no one gave me trouble or making sure I didn't start any trouble. Probably both. I dug a bottle of stale water out of my car and sucked it down, leaning against the cool metal of my little Kia. When I had myself a bit more together I headed back inside. We'd exposed plenty of secrets, some deep and dark, just not the one we were looking for. We still needed to find the thief

We'd interviewed almost all the employees before we hit paydirt. The bartender did it. It was pretty easy really. He huffed and blustered and swore he was innocent. When that didn't work, he took a swing at me. It was a terrible punch, and I was ready for it. He didn't even come close to touching me. When he stood and I felt his intent, I planted my feet and pushed hard. The rolling chair did the rest. I grinned as I slid away from the pissed off bartender. I loved rolling chairs and any excuse to whoosh around in them. In the winter sometimes there would be a bunch of cancellations at the office when snow was heavy. We'd been known to have rolling chair races if we got bored enough. Lori always won. She claimed she was aerodynamic, I say she cheated.

Nico had been the one to nab the bartender. He'd vaulted the table like it was nothing. He seemed more pissed that the guy had tried to pop me than over the money. He held him tight by the back of the collar and gave him a hard shake, then made him apologize to me. It was surreal, but after Riley's interview I was hard to impress. Just in case the bartender hadn't been working alone, we interviewed the rest of the employees. Even the bouncer in the room with us got a turn. They were all fine, not even any juicy secrets to discover.

I stretched and smiled. “Is that everyone?”

Jim said, “Yes” at the same time Nico said, “No.”

I looked from one to the other and raised an eyebrow.

Nico stood. “I still need a turn.”

Jim scoffed. “You do not. I know you didn't steal from me.”

Nico came around the table and sat gracefully in the chair next to me. “I want to. I know I didn't do it, so it shouldn't take long. But this crap happened right before I'm going to be leaving and I know that's suspicious. Maybe not to you, but I don't want other people talking. Half of them think I'm just dancing here anyway.” Nico flashed a smile my way. “Besides, I want to see what it's like.”

I looked to Jim. He was the client, my boss. I'd do what he wanted.

He waved a disgruntled hand. “Go ahead, whatever.”

Nico's smile widened. This close to him I was a little dazzled by it. His teeth were nice and white, but the shade didn't look unnatural. There was something a little off about his teeth, though. They were too pointy and the shape wasn't quite right. His central incisors looked normal. However, the ones next to them, the laterals, ended in a pointed cusp instead of a flat incisal edge. It wasn't obvious unless I looked carefully, but it was there. The canines were perhaps a third longer and slightly more conical than what I'd usually expect. The tooth behind it looked more like a canine than a premolar. I wondered what his molars looked like. I'd love to see his dental x-rays. It was still a nice smile, and suited him somehow.

His proximity was distracting. His presence a warm breath across my skin. It was different than I'd experienced before, there were no specific emotions attached to it. Normally, when I felt someone so clearly without touch there were strong emotions seething in them. Someone who projected so easily could sometimes give me a headache. Nico's was like a breeze with no scent, it touched me and left nothing behind.

“Alright.” I smiled my friendly smile again. “You know the drill, so this should be easy. Go ahead and put your hands on the table when you're ready.”

He did so. Most of the people I'd seen tonight laid their palms on the table. Some, like Nico, held their palms up and open to me. It was a trusting gesture. I held my hands over his, spreading my fingers wide.

“So, what do you do here at the club?” I asked gently.

“A few different things.” He answered. “I've been helping Jim with a few organizational changes and expansion plans. I've also been filling in for dancers who call in, or if it's an especially busy night.”

I didn't feel any deceit in his words. He wasn't anxious either. Sensing lies could be complicated. I always warned clients that it isn't always perfect. When they lie, most people feel a flare of anxiety. There is fear of being caught lying or simply anxiety at doing something wrong. That flare can help indicate a lie. However, there are exceptions. Some people are naturally nervous. I had one person I interviewed that had a nervous flash every time someone asked her a question beyond a basic one. Her worry that we would think she'd done something wrong freaked her out. Each question made her anxious. Some people were able to suppress their anxiety when they'd lie. Either they had so much experience it didn't bother them anymore or they were a bit sociopathic. I'd run into that before, too.

Luckily there were other indicators. Sometimes it was as simple as a person's emotions not matching their words. If they said they went home that night and read a book but their emotions were recalling the thrill they felt when they fucked the boss' wife it raised a red flag. Similar to that was when someone would say one thing, but the truth would echo in their mind. Sometimes I could hear snippets of words or see images. When I'd talked to the bartender, he said he'd gone straight home after his shift. When he'd said that, an image had popped out of him jimmying the lock on an office door. What he said and what he was thinking didn't match. He'd been an easy read. The hardest nuts to crack were the people that had convinced themselves of their own lies. They were all twisted up and almost impossible to read.

So really, it was quite a few different things that told me if a person was telling the truth. The indicators were different for different people. That's why I always did a baseline. It made things easier. I'd start out asking things I knew the true answers for.

“So, you have a stage name?” I asked him. I imagined he'd give himself an exotic name to go with his ebony hair and amber eyes.

“Nico.”

“Ah, so your dancing name is Nico.” I thought it was an odd choice. The name made me think of Italians, not Asians. Maybe it was a nickname or just a name he liked the sound of. “What's your real name, if it's alright to ask?”

“My birth certificate and driver's license say Takashi Tsubaki.”

It felt true, but it was an odd way to put it.

“Is that your real name, or can you not tell me?” He'd heard me question the others, he knew I'd ask. Maybe he was like Riley, unwilling to part with his real name.

“My mother called me Takashi. Tsubaki is a name I picked up later. In Japan I'd be called Tsubaki Takashi. The surname comes first, traditionally.”

I felt his affection toward his mother and no deception.

“What would you like me to call you? Mr. Tsubaki, Takashi, or Nico?” It would make him more at ease talking to me if I addressed him in a way he was comfortable with.

His eyes caught mine and my heart gave a thump.

“Call me Takashi.” His voice purred.

I fought a blush and soldiered on. “So, you're Japanese, Takashi?”

He smiled when I said his name. Hearing his name on my lips pleased him.

“Half Japanese.” When I looked at him expectantly his eyes glinted and he explained further. “Half Japanese, half viking.”

Truth. Okay. That was an odd way to explain a Nordic heritage. Though, it was more fun than saying that Dad was Norwegian or Swedish. I liked it. I wondered if I had any 'viking' in me. Then I took in the jewel-eyed man in front of me and thought I certainly wouldn't mind having some half-viking in me. I sternly told myself to settle down. It was unprofessional to leer at the interviewees.

Questions. Keep asking questions.

I asked him mundane things like the date and the colors of things. Then I asked him to lie to me for a few questions. When he lied he never got a real zing of anxiety, but I could sense mild discomfort. He didn't like it, lying. I asked for honest answers again and he felt better. When I felt like I had a good baseline I nodded to Jim that he could ask his questions.

Jim sighed dramatically. “You stealin' from me, Nico?”

“No.”

I nodded. Truth.

“Good enough. We're done, then.” Jim clapped his hands together once.

I'd been been ogling Takashi and the sound startled me. I jumped slightly and my hands dropped, palms skimming over Takashi's fingertips. His thumbs curled over, stroking across my knuckles. I gasped and pressed my touch more firmly into his.

His touch gave me an empathic nudge that bumped me into his mind. I first noticed he had no static. His emotional state was like a calm pool. I looked deeper, unable to stop myself. I looked for that place in everyone where their thoughts and emotions cross and tangle and found no knots. There weren't any tangles. Where concerns and fears contacted, instead of scraping and snarling they just slid smoothly. There were emotions that had the potential to knot, he had worries and doubts. They just couldn't grab hold of each other and coil up. I'd never seen or felt anything like it before. Everyone I'd ever touched had static and some kind of snarled tangle, large or small, in their psyche. I closed my eyes and sighed softly.

It felt like peace, like bliss.

There were no other emotions clamoring for my attention. The ones that had attached themselves to me over the course of the day were blessedly silent. Takashi's emotions were there, and I could read them, but they didn't touch me without my consent. I wanted to wallow in it, let his feelings all slip over me without touching or tainting me. I wanted to curl up there and sleep, just let myself be sheltered for a while. Jesus, just for a little while. I was so fucking tired and I hadn't even realized it.

Then my hands were empty and everything crashed back in. The nasties I'd accumulated over the day reattached with an unpleasant snap that made my teeth clench. My eyes opened a squint to find Takashi looking at me with concern.

“I apologize.” He said sincerely. “I didn't know touching me would hurt you.”

“No.” My voice was a little breathy. I licked my lips. “Felt too good.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Really.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you'd like me to touch you again.” Well, that sounded pleasantly suggestive.

There was a snort from across the table. Oh yeah, we weren't alone.

“Nico.” Jim barked. “Stop flirting with my investigator.”

Nico bared his sharp teeth in a smile. “Sorry.” He didn't sound sorry.

I busied myself with more hand sanitizer. I didn't really need it after Takashi, but it kept my fingers busy and my eyes to myself.

I turned to Jim. “Will you be needing a written report, or did you just want the recording?”

He waved a hand. “The recording is fine. No need to make extra work for you.”

“Is there anyone else that needs to be interviewed?” I asked.

Jim gave Takashi a look, Takashi smiled and shook his head.

“Looks like we're done.” Jim pushed away from the table and stood. “Thanks, Mick. I really appreciate your help here. We weren't sure just what was what, and this cleared up not only the big problem but several others we weren't aware of.”

He started to offer his hand to shake, halfway there his arm stopped and fell as he remembered. Yeah, no extra touchies, please. He turned it into an awkward wave. Nice save.

I smiled my professional smile and stood. He really did seem like a nice guy. “I was happy to help. Please, think of me in the future if you have a need for an empath.”

“Definitely.” He looked to the bouncer. “See Mr. Williams out, please.”

Walking past Takashi, I enjoyed one last warm brush with his aura. I might not ever see him again. It was a shame. He nodded to me politely as I passed, but there was a devilish glimmer in his eye.

The club must have been open for business. I could hear the music as I walked down the hall, the bass thrumming in my chest. I was curious for a moment about the strip club. I wondered what it would be like to go into that large open room and be part of that crowd, drooling and lusting for the mostly naked flesh on display. I'd never be able to do it. Even from down the hall I could feel the edges of the swirling cloud of emotions. Some of them were ugly, leaving a bitter flavor on the back of my tongue. Before I knew it I was out in the cool night. John the bouncer watched until I was in my car and pulling out of my parking spot before he went back inside.

When I hit my hotel room I immediately stripped out of my clothes and threw them in a plastic sack. I didn't want them touching and contaminating my other stuff. I'd wash them when I got home. I'd already placed my toiletries in the bathroom so I went ahead and started the water for a shower. I carefully peeled the bandage off my wrist and threw it in the trash. There was a little dried blood on the gauze, but the wound looked as good as could be expected. The butterflies were doing their job and I thought it looked like it would knit together fine. I'd always been a fast healer anyway. I pondered the significance of that. I'd never thought anything of it when I'd thought I was human. When I had stitches I always had to take them out after six or seven days instead of twelve. Otherwise they grew in terribly. I'd thought it was just a quirk, but now I had to wonder if it didn't have something to do with what I was. Whatever the fuck that could be. I might never find out. I pushed the thought away.

I frowned and climbed into the hot spray. I let it pound on my head and shoulders awhile before I stepped back to lather up my hair. I thought of Jim. I had no fucking clue what he could possibly be. Was he paranormal like me? Was he some kind of shifter that had a human shape? I rinsed and started soaping up my body. Then there was Riley. He'd been so sad, it hurt my heart. He was Fae. Jim had said something about him being 'elfin'. Did that mean he was an elf or was that just slang I wasn't familiar with? I'd ached to hold him. He'd needed it so bad. Poor guy.

I thought of Takashi with his shiny amber eyes and sharp smile. My heart thumped and my cock twitched. He was one I thought could sooth me and enflame me at the same time. My sudsy hand drifted down to circle my hardening shaft. What would he be like in bed? I'd never screwed around with anyone who could let me feel what they were feeling without forcing it on me. They didn't do it on purpose, it wasn't their fault. During sex emotions and sensations run wild, they're supposed to. When I was with someone, I tended to get overwhelmed. I internalized what they felt whether I wanted to or not. I came when they came, even if I was totally spent and the forced orgasm was more pain than pleasure. I shivered and shoved some bad memories away. I squeezed my dick and thought of Takashi. Getting a blowjob from him would be a thrill, all those pointed edges close to delicate flesh. He could nip those sharp teeth up the shaft, just this side of pain. I groaned and stroked my slick length. If I asked nicely, maybe he would bite me harder somewhere else, somewhere a little less tender. He could sink those sharp points into the meat of my shoulder as he thrust inside me. God, yes. The pain would be hot and delicious as he ground into me. I flicked my fingers and thumb over the head of my cock with every up-stroke, adding my precum to the lubricating bubbles. I leaned back against the damp cold wall of the shower, spreading my legs wider. His fingertips could dig into my hips hard enough to leave ten small oval bruises the next day. He could tightly hold me still and stab himself inside me again and again. He could use his grip to yank me back onto him with every thrust then jerk me forward only to slam me back again. His cock would fill me, stretch me, so deep.

Then I was coming, panting as my fist flew up and down my length. I locked my knees so I wouldn't fall and gasped through a wave of dizziness. When I opened my eyes, I saw the pelting water quickly washing away the little white splotches and puddles I'd shot onto the floor of the tub. I released my softening prick and stuck my hand into the spray, rinsing the viscous white from it. When my legs would hold me I finished my shower and dried off with a slightly scratchy towel provided by the hotel. I didn't need to cut myself, just pressed gently on the dark slash that was already there. It did the job. My own thoughts and feelings were the only ones on me and in me. I rebandaged my wrist and checked to make sure the cleaner I'd sprayed on the fabric in the room was dry. It was. I flicked off the light and fell into bed.

If I wanted to go hunt a piece of ass it wouldn't be tonight. The job had taken quite a bit more time and effort than expected. I was too fucking tired. My little shower fantasy had taken the edge off. I could wait a little bit longer.

As I snuggled into the pillow I'd brought from home, I wondered if Riley had found someone to hold him tonight. Had he even looked? I hoped he had. He was a mess. It was too bad this hadn't been a different kind of job. Riley looked and felt like someone who could really have used some untangling. As I closed my eyes and drifted off I wished for him to be able to work through it even if I couldn't help him.