Page 34 of Xerxes Ascendant
Miles lifted his head, staring at the mop he held like he’d never seen one before.
He probably hadn’t. By the stars, Kyle was going to have to show him how to change a bed and use a vacuum, wasn’t he?
“I...” The man’s voice cracked, and he stared at Kyle with disbelief bordering on suspicion. His hair was starting to dry, meaning it was bouncing back up into its usual curls. “I’m not going to be a whore?”
Kyle eyed him, bemused. “Do youwantto be a whore?”
“No!”
“Then why are we even having this conversation?” Kyle shook his head. “You’ll be responsible for everything on the second and third floors. That means turning the rooms over between each client, keeping the camera room and staffroom tidy, and sharing the laundry duties with our other cleaner. And Miles?”
“Uh...yes?”
Kyle spoke slowly, dropping his smile and closing in on him with precise, careful steps. “If you dare hurt or harassanyone, Miles Mackenroth, be it staff member, client, or any of my cats, you are fuckingdone. Do you understand me?”
The man didn’t quiver or bluster. Didn’t push back or argue. Fallen far – or perhaps risen – from the arrogant, impulsive Upper Kyle had first met, Miles gave a sombre nod. His damp curls bounced with the movement.
“I won’t let you down. I promise.”
Kyle wasn’t sure what to say to that. Miles had also oncepromisedto break him.
So in a tone that unexpectedly sounded as droll as Master Epsilon, he asked, “you’re not going to complain about the low wage?”
“No,” said Miles, his voice quiet. “It will mean I eat tonight.”
Kyle swallowed. He’d been in that position for many years, and knew exactly what it felt like.
“Save your credits,” he told him lightly. “There’s food in the staffroom fridge you can help yourself to.”
“I…thank you.”
“Oh, fuckme!” declared a loud voice from the doorway.
Misha prowled into the supply room in a white miniskirt and bra, jabbing a sharp finger at Miles to back the larger man up against the stacks of toilet roll and lubricant. “Don’t think you can hide those big ugly eyebrows and square chin behind some shitty t-shirt and expect to pass as one of us Lowers, Evil Mackenroth No. 2.I see you.”
And then it was Kyle’s turn to be on the receiving end of the twink’s fury.
“Kyle Randall,” Mish hissed, rounding on him next. “What, by every star that ever farted out gas, are youdoingwith this asshole?”
“Giving him a second chance,” Kyle said, flattening himself against the wall. Misha wasscary. “Shouldn’t you be with your client?”
“You mean the one who came screaming and shuddering as I drained him like a dish rag?” His friend offered them both a conspiratorial wink, looking exceptionally self-satisfied. “I just helped him limp out of here with the promise of more where that came from.” Then Mish suddenly sobered. “Don’t change the subject, bitch.”
Miles was staring at the other man, slack-jawed and silent. Kyle wasn’t sure what part of Misha had stunned him the most: his appearance, his fierceness, or his words, but he appeared suitably shell-shocked.
“Miles has accepted employment with the House,” Kyle offered by way of answer, and then shrugged. What more wasthere to say? They’d all discover soon enough if it was the terrible idea Misha seemed to think it was.
“Him? You can’t be serious.”
“Mish, I’ve made my decision. Please respect it.”
“You’re just so...” His friend made a noise of agitated frustration, caught between a scowl and a smile. “Sough!” He pummelled his fist violently into his other hand, a gesture that needed no interpretation.
“Was that…was that insubordination towards your boss?” teased Kyle.
Misha stuck his tongue out at him. “Well, Master isn’t here – again – sosomebodymust take on the responsibility of chewing you out for your utter idiocy. Miles fucking Mackenroth, really?”
“Quite certainly insubordination,” Kyle decided. “If you’re finished with your client-”
