Faline

I've seen pictures of it done, but never in person. Her dermal hoops are in an hourglass-like shape on her chest between her breasts. They aren't too deep, but deep enough. A silk ribbon is threaded through the smallish rings, creating a corset-like look.

The rings are black and the ribbon is red. They go from just above the skin that forms into the mounds, down between, and just under. From there they loop back and forth down the center of her body, branching out to form something else over her belly button.

A small pentacle is formed from the ribbon before it threads back up to hang loosely from a knot at the top of the star. It doesn't look painful as much as uncomfortable. Lady's posture is ramrod straight unless she's slouching on purpose, right now she's leaning into the door, so not exactly upright.

"How long did it take to do this?"

There's a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Looking down at it and then to me.

"I don't keep track. The lacing took the longest amount of time."

Well, it would, since she’s clearly not squeamish about pain or needles for that to have taken very long.

"Do you do it all yourself or does someone help you?"

The red ribbon is set flawlessly, no twists or kinks as it goes from hoop to hoop. Placement of rings is precise and deliberate, all lined up perfectly. She has her coat gaping open most of the time, so the only reason I hadn't seen it sooner was because of the sides overlapping each other.

Well that, and my lack of really looking at anything but her face. Morbid curiosity has me reaching out to run fingertips over the rings. Evenly spaced and you can barely feel the metal that's under the skin.

For a Vamp who's pierced, they have to redo them after each shift. Usually how you can pick out the ones who are masochistic, like my sister. She's just an overall weird puppy.

"Trisha stands by if I need any assistance."

Her healer. Makes sense, or would if she had to worry about serious harm or injury. Depending on when she does it, she may not even bleed from it. How does she keep them from coming out though?

"Speaking of her, we were talking earlier about things that will work better for the animals since man-made medications don't work; getting metabolized too fast for it to be effective. From healing plant agents to teas that soothe. She has a whole separate list that is given to you on what she needs, so why do so many have such thick scarring?"

Noticed that on several of the animals, both Shifter and Were. At first, I figured the body couldn't really spare the energy since they'd been damn near starving, but even now, some refuse to heal or fade.

"Probably because the scars you are seeing are where their brands had been."

"Brands? What brands?"

I get a look saying that I'm being a naive child. Before I can become mouthy about it, she explains.

"The slaves I acquire from street pimps are all marked with some kind of symbol, a brand, to show who they belong to. Some use tattoos, but many of the ones I go to, do what hurts the most. Using branding irons or carving blades. The men and women I go to are known to be the cruelest in a city."

Her eyes drop to my hip, where my own deep scar is hidden.

"The prostitutes that belong to them are, more often than not, in really bad shape. Unset broken limbs, scalp scars from hair being chopped off, metal bearings put into their feet to keep them from running, extreme genital damage, heavily drug-addicted, and psychologically tortured. Animal and human alike. If the pimp knows that they can turn into an animal, they become a high priced commodity; able to take more damage and heal most of it quickly where a human would take weeks to months."

My guts twist at each listed injury set. None of my crew have scars like what she's describing, but I can pick out each of the others who do. Not by seeing the scars themselves, but just by the look they have. The ones she describes are the super submissive ones. Those who don't or barely talk, whose gazes are always cast down, sink super low when going to their knees, and have dull eyes. I've seen a couple that were so unresponsive, they may as well be walking vegetables.

Even with as much as Nicolaus put me through in just three or four days, others had possibly gone through years of this treatment. Strong enough to survive bodily, but mentally they're broken or gone. Pulling away from the Vampire, I press hard into the car at my back.

"When those are the types that come to my home, the brands and markings are removed and Trisha does what she can. She'd been a nurse once, years ago, when she’d caught someone’s eye and was taken. I found her shortly after on the brink of losing her mind. She was young, still in college. The shame she felt was so much that she did not wish to return, so I took her in. I insisted she keep with her practice; seeing the benefit of having someone with the knowledge she'd possessed."

I scowl at her wording but I also see it that way. When running the type of place she does, someone with the know-how on how to help heal is a major need.

"That woman is at least in her fifties, she's been with you that long?"

My voice conveys my disbelief, yet she nods. I drop it, looking out through my tinted window into the dark landscape beyond. Don't know how fast we're going, but I have a feeling it's way past any posted limit.

We ride for another couple of hours or so. The darkness mixing with the hum of the engine and slight vibration causes me to doze. When bright lights start flashing through the car, I jerk upright. This damn car needs a freakin' warning label as once again I’m bashing my head into the metal. I whimper pitifully.

"You're going to put a dent in my car with all that headbanging."

I glare at the front seat holding the oh-so-funny comedian.

"Not like I'm moshing you know. It's your damn sorry excuse for a vehicle. I'm small, so if I'm bumping into things, you know you have a ridiculously tiny toy car."

"Nope. Left that one at home. Very collectible."

Eye lasers would really come in handy right now. Or the ability to shock his ass. Do Vampires conduct electricity?

Looking out at the lights, they aren't from a cop car. Thank God. I didn't bring my wallet... Not even sure where it is, to be honest.

The strobe lights are coming from the street lamps we're going past. Coming into a lit-up city by way of highway, all twisty and turny just like at home. Architects had to be some kind of dizzy when designing these damn things. Don't see any signs saying where we are, so we've already gone past any welcoming boards. Now it's all hotels and fast food leading into larger office buildings and strip-malls. With the range in different styles of buildings, we must be in a bigger city.

"Will we be going up and down the streets to find those that you're looking for?"

Half-sarcastic and half-serious, I look over to the woman beside me. Papers are once again sitting on her lap, but this time I see the small case at her feet. A bright green and icy blue eye look up to me with a wry look, although now they're shadowed and appear dark.

"Hardly. We have a specific address. These aren't your typical street prostitutes, they are kept within a house. Buyers come and do their business within the home then leave. Basically, a ragtag version of what I own."

Either way it sounds messed up to me. She reaches out and touches my cheek, gaze moving over my face.

"This one, however, is done up as a private club. The man running it tries to come off as a gentleman but is really quite a brute. I've had Apex tracking him for awhile. The man has never seen me but knows who I am. Every time he gets a whiff of me moving towards him, he packs up and leaves."

A sharp thumbnail, no, make that claw, is sliding down the side of my face. Not drawing blood, but scraping down the skin. Since I'm already backed into the proverbial corner, I can't pull away.

The cool hand moves to the back of my neck, grabbing hold. Gold eyes darken in anger as I glare at her, mouth opening in protest. Doing so catches her gaze, but she makes no move toward me like she usually does.

"We were able to keep it quiet that I would be anywhere near here. This procurer has a main woman who is just as cruel as he is helping him run the place and likes to think herself a Madam. Apex was able to intercept the address by their sending a call out for difficult girls. They take the ones that newer pimps have trouble controlling and break them."

She looks at me intently, her face hardening.

"This one started out as a 'Loverboy' before moving up, his trade being younger boys. Now he panders mostly in young adults. Stuck to males, but he won't turn females away. He has a fancy for younger-looking ones. Like you."

I jerk, turning my face away. Now I know why she wanted me to come along. My jaw tightens, but not from the blood coursing down my cheek.

"You should have told me sooner. I still would have come, but you can't keep shit like this from me when you're dragging me into it. I’m not one of your damn slaves."

Teeth clench harder when a warm tongue gets dragged along my skin.

"Tell me, are you saving these people or getting rid of competition?"

She doesn't seem to mind my sharp barb at all, a mocking smile forming as she pulls away. It soon disappears as she glares at me.

"You will stay at my side. This man knows of our kind, most of his stock are supernaturals. Since he has never seen me in person, he will not know who I am at first. It is not known just how many he has with him here, or who his clientele are. He will offer to buy you, then try to lure you away from me, and when that won't work, he will have his woman do so."

I turn back to her, lips pursed. Does she really think me that stupid? Don't answer that.

"She will request your help with something. Go with her and get a count of how many you can see. They will more than likely have more hidden in a basement or crawl space so use all your senses. This is as good a time as any to develop your skills. You have proven to be quite the scrapper, but that won't always do."

Blinking at her, I let my jaw relax. This...this I can and am more than willing to do. My hands relax their hard grip on my legs as I give her a small nod.

"You will be offered drugs and drink - take neither. Most if not all the courtesans will be high on something. Normal drugs won't work on any of us, but there have been cases of very strong or pure grade substances that will dull the mind. There is another one going around, one specifically for the supernatural. A mix of herbs that causes the taker to not care and become pliable, unresistant."

That...doesn't sound good. Sounds like marijuana on steroids.

"It is human instinct but try not to breathe too much. If they have it, you will be taken near areas where the smoke of this herb is strong, put there just to lure the unaware. What do you have in your pocket?"