Page 52 of Between Life and Death

Noting a pattern, I guessed it washisfavorite scent.

The madame’s prying eyes watched the entire process, and when the woman and the girl took a step back, she swirled her finger in the air, gesturing for me to turn.

I did it unwillingly, despising every single second of it. I had never felt so objectified. For the most part, I had been an actress playing a role. I was always in control with the aid of Ezra’s knock-out tonic, should I need it. In a way, that kept me an arm’s length away because I was never working here for real. But this, what was happening right now, felt real—and it made me want to vomit. I was being stripped of myself. Saturated inhispackaging. To be delivered tohim. Athingto fulfillhisneeds.

It was too much.

I bent over and dry heaved.

The ladies jumped back out of projectile range.

The madame grabbed my shoulders and jerked me upright. “You have been chosen to serve our most distinguished guest. Now, pull yourself together.”

I dry heaved again.

She slapped me—not hard enough to leave a mark, but still hard enough to hurt. The stinging flogged my attention and the uncontrollable ratcheting in my gut snuffed itself out. I felt half inclined to wrap a water bubble around her head and drown her where she stood, but I pushed away the thought because I knew why she did it. It was to redirect my thoughts, to give them something else to latch on to. And it worked. My nerves vanished. My mind fixated on the dull throb in my cheek.

I wondered how many girls had been subject to the same thing.

I could have sat with that thought for hours, but those hands were touching my skin again, forcing my arms up before a sheer bit of black fabric draped over my body, stopping at the widest part of my thighs. The worst part? It was completely see-through.

“I think I should wear something else,” I insisted as I gaped at my essentially naked frame. Like this, I had nowhere to hide Ezra’s vial—nowhere to hide the tonic that I needed him to take.

“Nonsense. You won’t be wearing this for very long anyway,” the madame said as she picked at her almond-shaped nails.

I was panicking inside. I needed to think of something, and quick.

“Ladies, please escort ourshining starletto the private chambers,” the madame said with a clap of her hands.

“Wait!” I screeched, my hand reaching out to the dresser for stability. “Can I . . . Can I have a moment to myself?”

The madame looked at me like an owl watching a mouse, and when I was certain she would say no, she let out a breath and said, “Fine. Two minutes.”

When the double doors closed behind the madame and the two ladies, I scrambled over to the locker I stored my things in, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Frantically, my hands searched my coat pockets until I felt two glass vials. I grabbed one—a tonic to loosen the lips and cloud the mind. Neither Harper nor I had used it before.

My legs felt like rubber as I ran towards the wall of mirrors. I plopped the vial on the counter and stared at it—nibbling at my bottom lip feverishly.

How was I going to smuggle it in?

Where could I put it in this sheer bit of fabric?

Think. Think. Think.

My gaze fell south. No, that would be highly impractical, but it gave me another idea . . .

I looked up, to my freshly painted lips.

Bingo.

One kiss.

That was it.

Just one.

I could do it. I could. I cou—

The thick door slammed with the ferocity of a crack of thunder, shattering my pep talk and locking me in the private chambers, which, to my horror, was not like the other private rooms. This one had a bed adorned in plush, expensive-looking furs and a floor covered in candles, their flickering flames providing a dim, sultry light. To my right, a doorway with drapes gathered on each side created a narrow passage to another room. Steam sifted between the drapes, slowly seeping in, a wandering hand claiming new territory.

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