I stand, as if rooted to the ground, staring at the building in front of me. I know the concealment spell is working. The memory of my sister’s reactions takes me back to the moment they first saw my transformation; I knew something was wrong, their jaws had dropped open, eyes bulging in shock.
As if coming out of a daze. Abigail remarks with a smirk on her face, “Do you think Melissa has done it on purpose?”
Mia sniggers, eyes wide open, while trying to hold in her laughter by placing her hand over her mouth. Ava elbows her sharply, but can’t help her own giggle as she whispers, “Stop it!”
Pamela and Emma are speechless, they just stare at me.
“What’s wrong?” I cry out and, not getting a reply, I rush to the full-length mirror. Gone are my wild red hair, green eyes, and milky skin. Where normally I have loads of curves, tits for days, and am of average height, I see I’ve been transformed into a six-foot tall, willowy blonde, blue-eyed woman. As a child and teenager, I always wished for the body of a runway model. I’d come to terms with the fact it was never going to happen, but now it seems that wish has come true.
“I can’t go out like this,” I scream, appalled at the reflection of the stranger looking back at me.
“I know it’s a shock. Not only for you, but for all of us,” Pamela tries to soothe me. “However, we don’t have time to get more herbs or to perform another spell. You’ll just have to grin and bear it.”
Bloody hell, I think. She’s right. Whether or not I’m happy about this, I must suck it up. I have no other choice.
“Fine, but when I see Melissa, I have a bone to pick with her!” I retort, glaring at myself in the mirror and trying to come to terms with my new appearance.
Once the initial shock faded, my sisters were visibly excited to see how well the spell worked. I just had to hope it would hold up until I was finished doing what we’d planned. We decided that the safest plan was for me to head out before first light, hoping it would give me enough time to figure out where Megan had gone inside the club, what had happened to her, and get the hell out before anyone knew I was there.
The thought that I might have to open myself up to the feelings of those around me made my stomach churn. That gift always left me shaky and uncomfortable, and I wasn’t pleased when the power had suddenly hit me, not all that long ago. Witch powers tend to manifest at different points in their lives, but they usually appear over decades. My ever-growing list of powers has been expanding at such a rapid rate, I’m struggling to keep up with them. For example, I recently discovered that I can now use telekinesis, the ability to move small objects with my mind. I haven’t told any of my sisters yet because I haven’t had an opportunity to gain full control over it, and I want it to be an effortless task when I announce this new gift.
The club in front of me is massive; tall as it was long. Floodlights are placed around the roof, reflecting down onto the ground. Five, maybe six stories high, with the words The Fallen Angel lit up in neon lights across the entrance door as if beckoning, daring you to enter. How the hell am I going to find out what happened to Megan? It’s going to take me forever just to search, and we’ve all been operating under the assumption that I will be able to find her. What if I fail?
As I begin to panic, I will myself to take deep breaths and calm down. Ever since I announced my decision to my sisters, I’ve been an absolute wreck. My stomach has been a tangled knot of queasiness, and I keep experiencing uncontrollable tremors in my legs. The pep talks I’ve tried giving myself haven’t worked, I just can’t seem to settle my nerves. I call upon every ounce of my strength and push my anxiety to the side, knowing I must do so in order to get through this.
Standing in the shadows, I observe the various women entering the nightclub. More than half of them are wearing skimpy lingerie, leaving nothing to the imagination. I know I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb. My black skinny jeans, ankle-boots, light green blouse, and gray jacket will bring undue attention, but I’ll have to find a way around it. No matter the outcome, I have no choice but to go inside. Everyone is depending on me, especially Megan. Thinking of her and what she’s likely going through washes away my remaining tendrils of anxiety, leaving nothing but relief. I can do this, and I will.
Taking a deep breath, I stride to the back of the line, near the entrance. Standing with a handful of others, I try to ignore the funny looks I’m getting. When I get to the front of the line, a large, dark-haired man dressed in black is guarding the entrance to the club. His eyebrow lifts as he looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my breasts before giving me a nod to enter. I manage to hold off an uncomfortable shudder, not liking his focus and attention.
Once inside, I look around the nightclub, trying to find the staircase that will lead me upstairs to the other levels. Scanning the room, I feel my eyes widening. I’d heard the rumors, everyone has, but seeing it with my own eyes is a uniquely scandalous experience. Bodies are everywhere, undulating against one another to the beat of the music. Naked pole dancers are performing remarkable acrobatics with bodies that look like they’ve been covered in stardust. To my left, fully visible from the club entrance, is a VIP area where men and women are receiving lap dances, the dancers rolling their naked bodies over the prone forms of their customers.
From the corner of my eye, I see a man holding a woman, her legs are wrapped around his hips. The woman is writhing in ecstasy as he sucks her nipples with enthusiasm. I watch, in disbelief, as she rides his jean-covered leg to completion. I’m so far out of my depth. The urge to run is overwhelming.
I close my eyes and think of Megan. Bringing up her image, I manage to calm down and repress the urge to bolt. When I gain the courage to open my eyes, I see the couple is still at it. The woman appears to be enjoying his attention; her head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth wide open, and it looks as though she’s moaning, but they’re too far away and the music is too loud to be certain.
I can’t tear my eyes away from them. I continue to watch her grind her pelvis against the man’s hard thigh, the look on her face one of rapture. I’m mortified to find myself getting turned on by the scene, feeling a tingle develop between my thighs. Oh god, I really shouldn’t be watching this. What the hell is wrong with me?
Anyone who is paying attention could see how intently focused I am on the couple. But no man has ever made me feel the way the woman is clearly feeling right now. I’ve never experienced the level of wanton lust I see written across her face. Ha, who am I kidding? There are no men in my life, unless you count family, and in this situation, family is definitely off the table.
I give myself a mental shake, dragging my gaze away from the couple. I must focus. I need to shut out the distractions around me and concentrate on the reason I came here.
I’m not usually one to drink, but I could really use some liquid courage right about now.
TEN MINUTES LATER
I sit, glass in hand, gazing across the crowded dance floor and watching as multiple couples walk up the staircase. I haven’t taken my eyes off it since I sat down with my drink. I need to find a way to go up that staircase. I take in the huge bugger standing at the bottom, guarding it like a Rottweiler. I know he isn’t going to let just anybody walk up those carpeted stairs.
There must be a way to get up there. But how? I’ve thought of a distraction, but there’s no guarantee it will work. No, my best option is to find someone to get me up there. So far, nobody, human or Natural, has approached me. The thought has crossed my mind that the spell of protection placed on me might be working a bit too well. If that’s the case, I’m fucked. I wonder if maybe all the men in this place just find me unattractive. That doesn’t make sense, though, not with this supermodel glamour I’ve got going on.
My primary concern, for now, is how to gain access to the floors above. I have to get up there somehow. If no one approaches me soon, I will have to come up with another plan. I’ve noticed that none of the staff has used the staircase. They’ve all been using a door with a sign in bold black letters, declaring Staff Only. If the staff members don’t use the public stairs, there must be another access point for the higher levels. Maybe an elevator or another staircase.
I frown, deep in thought. Walking through the Staff Only door would be a bold move but, if I’m caught, I would draw much less attention than if I’m stopped trying to go up the stairs in the middle of the club.
Recognizing the lack of choices before me, I swiftly gulp down the last mouthful of my drink, barely managing not to cough from the burn as it slides down my throat. With determination, my head held high as if I belonged there, I stride purposefully to the Staff Only door and walk through it as though I’ve done it many times before.
Perhaps it is sheer luck or perhaps my new look makes me look like someone who would work here, but when I get through the door a woman shoves a black and red uniform into my arms. With a high-pitched voice, she snaps, “It’s about time you got here. I’m Ms. Burns. I hope your tardiness isn’t going to be a regular thing. Mr. Sinclair expects all staff to show up on time, dressed in their uniforms. As this is your first shift, I will give you a pass. But only this once,” she says, making it sound as though she’s doing me a favor.
The woman, some kind of manager I assume, is very tall. If it weren’t for the spell, she would tower over me by at least five inches. She’s rail-thin, with enormous breasts sitting high on her narrow chest, and I can’t help but think how artificial they look. Her blonde hair hangs down her back, and her dark brown eyes emit a certain animalistic rage, and I can tell she isn’t human. She’s looking at me as though I’m an unwelcome rodent at a dinner party. I have the feeling she’s taken an instant dislike to me. Probably because she assumes I’m an employee with a tardiness problem, but perhaps because I’m human. Most Naturals look down their noses at humans, and there’s no way she can sense I’m anything more than that. Whatever the cause of her hostility, I don’t intend to hang around long enough to find out.
The sooner I do what I came here to do, the better. I’m not here to make friends or start a new career. I’m here to, hopefully, pick up some kind of vibration or vision of what happened to Megan. Once I complete that task, I plan to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. I sure as shit don’t want to end up running into Lucien Sinclair or any of his minions, even if my visions and dreams have been showing that exact thing happening. If I’m being honest with myself, it scares the fuck out of me and it’s the thing I’m most worried about. I know, the second I lay eyes on him, my life will be forever changed.
I half-listen as she drones on and on. She’s really starting to irritate me. I note my surroundings, trying to get my bearings. I have no clue where we are. This place is far more extensive than it looks from the outside.
I follow along behind her as she takes me deeper into the staff area and I nearly collide with her when she abruptly spins around to face me.
“Are you listening to me, girl?” She snaps out in an annoyed tone, looking at me with narrowed eyes.
“Yes! Yes, of course!” I reply nervously.
I hear the huff fall from her mouth and I can tell from her demeanor that she knows I wasn’t. Rolling her eyes at me, she says, “At the end of this hallway is the changing room. Here’s your key. Change into those straight away,” she commands, pointing with the key at the uniform I’m holding in my arms and dropping it on top of it. “I will be back for you in fifteen minutes to do something with your hair and makeup. You look like a harlot,” she sniffs, before turning on her heel and walking back the way we’d come. I watch as she opens a door further down and goes inside, the door closing behind her with a click.
What a bloody nerve! I have never in my life looked like a harlot. Cheeky bitch! Clutching the uniform tightly in my hands, I hurry down the hallway to the room she told me to use to change, paranoid that at any moment someone will spot me and know I don’t belong here. To my relief, I manage to get the door unlocked, opened, and closed behind me without seeing another person.
I step inside the room and look around. It looks like a large dressing room straight out of a department store. I place the uniform on one of the chairs and start stripping off my clothes. I change in record time and look down at the uniform. The top is covered in a delicate, deep red lace and has laces up the front keeping it closed. It’s paired with the tiniest set of black silk shorts I’ve ever seen in my life. I don’t have to look in a mirror to see my breasts spilling out of the top or my ass cheeks hanging from the bottom of the shorts… or to know that all my assets are on full display for anyone wanting an eyeful. I’ve never in my life gone without knickers but, not having a thong available to me, I have no other choice. The shorts are smaller than the knickers I’d worn with my jeans. I just have to hope nobody can tell. I’d also been given black fishnet stockings along with a pair of red-soled, six-inch high-heeled shoes to complement my outfit.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to face the mirror. I stand there, staring in disbelief at the person looking back at me. Seeing myself in a different body, with a different face, wearing this outfit, the likes of which I’d never dreamt of wearing, this all feels so surreal. My God, I look like a tart! How on earth can I leave this room for every person I come across to see me dressed this way?
By pulling up your big girl panties and getting on with it. I hear in my head and the supercilious voice continues, Megan must be found, and your entire family is relying on you to not mess this up.
Ugh. Be quiet. I didn’t ask for your opinion, I think. But the voice is right, I admit, much as I hate when that happens. I need to think of what I came here to do. I need to keep reminding myself that the six-foot blonde woman I’m looking at in the mirror isn’t really me and that nobody here knows who I am or what I look like in my natural form. Otherwise, I might start to panic.
I twist one way then the other. In my natural form, I’m not what anyone would consider a small-busted woman, but in this form, my bust is even larger. The top pushes my breasts up and together. I know that if I try to take anything more than the shallowest of breaths, they will likely spill out completely.
The slip of cloth these people consider shorts is hardly more than a thong for all they cover of my ass. The only part of the entire outfit I don’t have a problem with is the shoes. They’re absolutely stunning and I know they cost a bomb to buy. Walking in them will be a challenge, the highest heel I’ve ever worn was only two inches. I will just have to try my best and pray I don’t look like an idiot and draw too much attention to myself. Or, even worse, fall flat on my ass and alert the entire club to the fact that I don’t belong here.
If there is one upside to this madness, it is that this outfit will allow me to blend in and give me a better chance of finding out what happened to Megan. I just need to find out where all she went in the club before she went missing and, dressed the way I am, I shouldn’t have any trouble moving around the club.
Loud banging on the door interrupts my thoughts. “Have you changed yet?” comes through the wooden door in that irritating high-pitched voice from before. “I hope I don’t have to remind you how much Mr. Sinclair despises tardiness.”
Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, causing me to shudder. Just hearing it makes me want to hit her. I roll my eyes, thinking to myself, no, I don’t need to be reminded, you sour-faced cow.
“Yes, I’m dressed. I’m coming out now,” I call out sweetly, hurrying over to the door, nearly falling flat on my face. Thank heavens I never have to see this woman again after today. She seems to be a right dragon.
I open the door to find her standing directly in front of me. She looks me up and down and says, “Well…. I suppose you’ll have to do. Just make sure you’re on time tomorrow and that your hair and makeup are perfect.”
Is she for real? I didn’t have time to do anything with it, and she said that she was going to fix it when she came back for me. Oh well, I shrug. She can kiss my ass. I see her wrinkling her nose in distaste as her gaze flickers up and down my body once more. She turns abruptly, her narrow nose up in the air as if she’s smelled something distasteful as she walks back the way we came earlier.
I realize with a start that she wants me to follow. I hurry to catch up on wobbly legs, praying I don’t slip and fall over. When I catch up to her and attempt to match her stride, I realize she’s giving me instructions. “You’re being placed on the second floor tonight. No one will make any inappropriate advances towards you if you have this choker on.” She stops and turns to face me. “Lose it….” She pauses, a smirk twisting her lips as she pulls her hand out of her pocket and hands me what I assume is a choker. I hold it up and examine it. The thin velvet is black and red and there are five diamonds in a single row in the middle. “Let’s just say… you might not like the outcome.” She threatens with an evil laugh.
My whole body freezes at her sinister tone. What the hell does she mean by that? The smirk she’s giving me isn’t the least bit reassuring, either. Trying my hardest not to show how much she’s rattled me, I deliberately meet her gaze while putting the choker around my neck and clasping it. I have a strong suspicion she’s doing everything she can to frighten me, and I refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing it’s working. What a dirty bitch.
With a fake smile and a sickly-sweet voice, I reply, “Don’t worry. I have no intentions of losing it,” all the while maintaining eye contact with her calculating stare.
There is certainly more to this woman than meets the eye and she’s giving me the creeps. There’s just something… not quite right about her. Maybe it’s the fact I know she isn’t human. I just hope I don’t run into her again once we part ways.
“Suzette is waiting for you, and she will take you to your floor,” she says, indicating a young woman that seems to have appeared from thin air. “Unless you’re told to do so by myself or Mr. Sinclair, do not, under any circumstance, go to any floor other than the one you’re assigned to. Suzette will explain your job duties and show you how to complete them, as well as go into more detail of what is expected of you as an employee of The Fallen Angel.” She gives me one last disapproving look before swiftly turning and walking away. Now, more than ever, I want to know about the floors that have been deemed out of bounds. I already know certain… depraved pleasures are available for a price, but it must be worse than I thought if even employees are kept out of the loop.
Is Lucien Sinclair hiding something else? While I genuinely don’t wish to be caught snooping around while looking for clues about Megan, I am struggling to temper my urge to dig deeper than strictly necessary. I can feel the two sides of myself warring over the issue, with one side prompting me to throw caution to the wind and the other warning me of the potential consequences of doing so.
I look at the young woman standing beside me, Suzette, I believe Ms. Burns said. Suzette’s hair is cropped tight to her head and dyed a deep purple. She’s petite, probably under five-feet tall.
Together, we both turn and watch Ms. Burns disappear down the hallway and she whispers to me, “Avoid her as much as you can, and for heaven’s sake, whatever you do, do NOT get on her bad side,” she pauses, a frown appearing upon her face as I can see her debating whether she should say more. I see her shrug and assume she’s decided against sharing whatever thought she just had.
“Come on, I’ll show you what your duties are,” she says in a louder tone, moving over to a wall and pushing a button to summon the lift. “By the way, my name is Suzette. What is yours?”
“I’m Scarlett,” I answer, looking at her curiously. “Why are you warning me?” I ask. She doesn’t know me from Adam, so why would she help me? Why should she care if I piss of the bitchy gargoyle?
She chuckles, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re new. It only seemed fair to give you a heads-up. She’s a right bitch seeing as she’s Mr. Sinclair’s… special friend…”
She trails off, appearing to think about her words before continuing, “They are very friendly, if you get my meaning,” she says with a wink right as the lift doors open in front of us. We step inside and she goes on, “She doesn’t like anyone paying too much attention to him. Then there’s Aria. At least she comes and goes and isn’t here all the time. She’s been with Mr. Sinclair way longer than Ms. Burns. Though the way Ms. Burns acts, you would think it’s the other way around. Just watch out for both and if you see Mr. Sinclair, it’s best to limit your contact with him. If you want to keep your job… and your head… just don’t cross either one of them. They’re both nasty bitches,”
Oh great, I think, just what I need. Two jealous, crazy-ass women who think every other female is trying to get with their man. There’s no way in hell I will ever seek out Lucien Sinclair. I want to avoid him at all costs. Besides, I have no intentions of coming back here after tonight. Waving my hands in front of my chest, attempting to assure her I have zero interest in our boss, I laugh lightly and say, “They have nothing to worry about with me. I’m here to do my job and get paid, not to get involved with anyone, especially not Mr. Sinclair.”
“Then you should be fine,” Suzette replies with a smile. “Come on, I’ll show you the ropes,” she tells me as we walk out of the lift and down another long hallway. On one side, the walls are painted in a deep red; the other in black and gold. There are five wooden doors, two on one side, three on the other. I can see from here that the furthest one has black writing on it.
“The job isn’t exactly rocket science, it’s actually pretty simple. Once a room becomes vacant, you will go in and get it ready for the next couple. You will shadow me for the first couple of hours, and then you’ll be on your own. Always keep your choker on, but if you lose it, leave the floor straight away and report to Len. That’s who oversees the security around here; I will introduce you to him later.” She pauses and studies me for a moment.
Appearing to reach some kind of conclusion about me, she continues, “I will warn you now. You will see vampires feeding off people, both Naturals and humans. I assure you, they are all willing. If you ever have to go up to any of the other levels, you will see stuff that’s even more extreme; the higher the floor level, the more extreme the pleasure. Remember, this is a sex club where people get to act out their darkest, dirtiest desires and pleasures. Nothing’s forbidden or off-limits, so long as all parties consent. If anyone breaks the rules, they are swiftly dealt with.” She said all this over her shoulder as we’re walking down the hall, but now she stops and looks at me.
“There will likely be instances, albeit rare, when you will come across someone who is overly friendly. If anyone gets out of hand, make sure they know their advances are unwelcome and you feel uncomfortable. If they continue, let Len know and he will deal with it.” She starts walking again and I follow, until we reach the door at the end of the hall. The black letters I’d seen before say ‘PRIVATE’ and underneath ‘STAFF ONLY’.
As she opens the door, I think of everything I’ve just learned. Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into? I feel like a helpless sheep going into a den of hungry wolves. It doesn’t matter that I know self-defense and have my magic to protect me. I can’t allow myself to be put in a position to use either because I need to stay under the radar as much as possible. I can’t have anyone here find out I’m anything other than human; It would put me and my entire family in danger. She did say it was rare for the customers to, how did she put it? Oh right, it’s rare for them to be ‘overly friendly.’ So, there’s no reason to freak out. Right?
The door opens into a large room with bare, off-white walls. The center of the room is mostly empty, except for a large wooden table with wooden chairs placed around it. Along one wall is a kitchenette with a long countertop that has a coffee and tea maker along with a selection of different sandwiches. There’s also a large refrigerator and several cabinets.
“This is where we keep the cleaning supplies and where we take our breaks. The food and drinks are available to staff. Mr. Sinclair employs both humans and Naturals, so don’t freak out if you see a vampire or any other Supernatural feeding in here,” she warns.
I already knew Lucien employed Naturals, but I’m shocked to learn he has so many humans working for him. Why would he do that? It doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows how much he hates humans. Schooling my expression, I say, “Thanks for the heads-up,” and casually look around the room, hoping my face isn’t mirroring any of my thoughts.
Trying to keep my face clear of expression is far more difficult than I would have thought. The rest of my body isn’t doing such a good job of cooperating with me, either. My stomach is rolling as if I’m riding a roller-coaster. I actually feel so sick, I’m concerned I might throw up all over myself and the floor in front of me. I’m out of my depth. Something is going to happen; I feel overwhelming dread building inside of me. The sense of impending doom is so strong, I have to fight to stop myself from running from the club as though the hounds of hell are chasing me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, feeling my corset top strain against my breasts.
I manage to calm down and open my eyes to see Suzette opening a cabinet and grabbing a caddy filled with an assortment of cleaning supplies. She hands the caddy over to me and grabs another. Oh, great, I’m a cleaning lady, I think to myself. The cleaning part isn’t going to be the problem; it’s the kind of cleaning I’m going to be doing.
“The main doors to this level will open in thirty minutes. All the clients who have pre-booked a room will be allowed to enter first, while the others wait in private booths placed discreetly around each chamber until their room becomes available. Please try not to panic if you see something shocking. You will get used to things once you’ve been here for a while. We give each room a quick look-over before the punters roll in. Oh! Before I completely forget. Mr. Sinclair’s private residence is on the top floor. He has his own private team that deals with his needs and his office is on the floor below that. Rarely will we have to do anything on his floors, but we do occasionally get called in to clean up there.”
I feel myself nodding, feeling like one of those bobble head dolls people like to keep on their car dashboard. My poor brain is whirling, trying to take everything in. I remember being shocked downstairs, but if I had known what awaited me up here, I may never have gotten this far.
Coming into the club, I’d known I would be seeing things I could never even imagine, but now that I’m faced with actually seeing them, I realize that I wasn’t nearly as prepared as I’d thought. I just had to hope I won’t be unlucky enough to get called to Lucien’s private quarters and that my glamour will hold on long enough for me to get what I came for.
While I don’t know exactly how long the glamour will hold, I know it won’t last forever. Not knowing exactly how long she spell will hold is a really big problem. My sisters and I had agreed that I had to be out in under five hours. I look at my watch; four hours left.
I need to get my bloody ass in gear and start searching for any sign of what happened to Megan, but I can’t until I’m left alone. While I haven’t noticed any cameras, that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. I know they wouldn’t be placed in plain sight for everyone to see. I’ll just have to do my best to make sure I don’t get caught.
If Lucien or his security team does catch me, I will likely have to use my powers. Staying any longer than we discussed could spell disaster.
