Page 4 of Marked
Once upon a time, I would have vomited at the show he put on. Now, it only leaves me tired and cold. And that is a weakness I can’t afford to show.
Ever.
He grabs my wrist as I move towards the back. “I’m still thirsty.” His fangs are down, giving him a mild, pouty lisp, but it’s nothing to the horror visible through the gap of his robe.
I wrench away and scrub my arm on my jeans, looking anywhere but at him. “Get a donor bag, prick. Jinx will be down for days after that stunt.”
He smirks, and there is something deranged and happy in the look he gives me. “She’s a shifter. She’ll heal fast.”
For the hundredth time this week, I consider telling Vic where he can shove his fucking job.
My eyes narrow, but I take a step back with a casual glance at the guards at the door. “Don’t touch me again.UncleVic won’t like it,” I say instead.
He glowers and I stalk off, never giving him my back.
The laundry room is empty when I walk in. And quiet. I close the door behind me and lock it. The thin wood and flimsy latch is not much of a deterrent from the kinds of beings I work around, but it’s all I can do not to curl into a ball beside the washer. It’ll have to do.
All the years I have worked at Carnage, and at Blue Moon before this ... Every club is another sick excuse for the local supernaturals to get their jollies off.
I drop the clothes in the washer and pour laundry soap on top. The machine shakes a bit as the old, rusted pipes pump water into the drum. The bright red mass begins to fade to a dull pink as I watch.
Poor Jinx.
Her neck was a wreck when Jasper and Callum got her out of the coffin.
No doubt the local pack alpha will be pissed about her being hurt. She’s on loan as it is.
Who is going to take her place now?
There is a solid knock on the door and I walk to it, weary.
Uncle Vic stares down at me, his open collar framing a lot of dark chest hair and too many thick gold chains. Thing about supernaturals, they pay for this freak fest.
And they pay a lot.
He shoves some fabric in my arms. “Get dressed.”
I glance down at the rumpled mass of sapphire silk and lace. “What?” My voice comes out in a high squeak.
“We gotguests.And with Jinx down, I need a new waitress. You’re it, Li.”
My stomach sinks. “But—”
His ruddy fingers grab my jaw hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “You will get changed, you ungrateful shit. And you will flaunt your ass and tits if that’s what it takes for us to land this deal.” His dark eyes flash with rage. “Or you can do it on your fucking back. Do I make myself clear?”
Icy terror fills my veins. I stare up at him, knowing he means every word. My protection only goes as far as I want it to. Though Vic is my guardian on paper only, he is the one that took me in all those years ago. And if Uncle Vic is happy with me, I’m still safer than if he’s not.
Vic is like the fucking mafia. You do what you’re told without question and with complete loyalty. Or you can die cold, alone, and slow. And like the mafia, once you’re in, there is only one way to get out.
My pulse skips again and again with panic. “Yes, sir,” I force myself to mumble.
He shoves me back. I stumble, barely catching myself on the small folding table. He storms off but leaves the door wide. Draven waits in the empty dressing room, arms crossed in a clean, open vest and leather pants. Like a fucking vampire gigolo.
“Come on, Li.” His smile is all fang. “The show must go on.”
I slam the door in his face and unfold the skimpy clothes. And not for the first time, I wish I died in the fucking accident with my parents.
***
