The heat is blasting—makes sense, a lot of people here want to spend their time half-naked. Tonight, the ever-present scent of sex and longing is replaced by the crisp, clean smell of winter and pine trees. Phantom at least hasn’t gone as far as to play Christmas carols (thank God), and the music plays low with a steady, sensual beat. The coat closet is open and I take Dove’s coat off of her shoulders to hang it up.
Princess is sitting at her alcove near the door. She pops up when she sees us. She has little Christmas bells woven in her blonde hair and when she turns to us, she jingles. “Oh shit. It’s you two.”
“Trouble has arrived,” I say.
“Happy holidays.”
“Happy holidays, Princess.”
She and Dove share a quick, tight hug. Princess pulls back to gestures to the tree. “We’ve got presents. Take something off the tree, yeah?”
The first floor is nicely decorated, with touches of Christmas lights, a menorah on the mantle, and a thick, healthy fir tree beside the fireplace. There are small presents tucked below and in the arms of the tree—some wrapped, others bare. All kinky—even from here, I can spot a pair of handcuffs, a bullwhip, and a strap-on harness.
We’re not the first ones here. A few people are milling about. The fireplace is blazing. I spot Carver sitting on the stone beside it, talking to a woman in the armchair.
Dove lets out a happy shriek and rushes to the woman, arms in the air.
“Ginger! You came!”
The woman turns to us and—right. I recognize her now. Shawn’s girlfriend from last night. I do a quick scan of the room, but no Shawn in sight.
Which is when I notice: her collar is missing from her throat.Ah.
“I came,” Ginger says. “I just thought I’d…try something new.”
She smiles. It’s a shy smile. First-time jitters.
“She was admiring my nuts.” Carver smirks. His sweater is stitched with an image of roasting chestnuts and the words: DEEZ NUTS ARE FIRE.
“Is Ophelia here?” Dove asks.
Carver lifts his eyebrows. “Can’t you hear her?”
Then—we do. A loud cry from upstairs.
It’s the soundrelease. The sound of someone emptying all that grief from their body.
“Phantom?” I ask.
“Obviously.”
“Sounds like fun,” Dove says. She glances at me. She has that cautiously hopeful look on her face, the way a kid might kick their feet back and forth waiting for the merry-go-round.
Her eyes say:is it my turn yet?
Oh. Sweet angel.
She has no idea what’s coming for her.
As Dove makes small talk with Ginger and Carver, I turn my attention to the gift tree. I do a scan through the available items. There’s a small, thin box tucked away in the tree. I lift the top and—yes. Exactly what I was looking for.
Discreetly, I tuck the box into my back pocket. There’s a ribbon on the tree, a perfect blindfold, and I steal that as well. I return to Dove, slipping my hand to the small of her back. I murmur in her ear, “Give me the tour.”
She cocks her head to glance back at me. “You’ve already seen the club.”
“Yes, but I haven’t seen your version. Show me your favorite room.”
Dove’s fingers touch mine. She links her hand back in my own.
