Chapter One
Enota
Eagle. Frankenstein.Jason. Another Jason. Fuck, had there been a sale on ski masks?Hi, Freddie.I waved as the shifter scraped costume clawsdelicately across my skin in a façade of delight and torment.
His anonymous touchoffered everything I wanted and couldn’t take.
“Come play with me,fruit bat,” he mouthed behind his makeup.
I shook my head,smiling flirtatiously, harmlessly, though my mini-beast squawked onthe inside, all too ready to come out and play. Zooming around thehigh ceiling of the club or hanging upside down at the receptiondesk were my daytime activities.
At night, Raferequired my human form where I could help support club management.It also protected me. A fruit bat the length of a man’s forearm hadstuff-all self-defense tactics against some of our apex predatorshifters who scented fear and arousal for their personal brand offun.
The regulars knewnot to push me, no matter how often one of them hit me up to playfor a night session, knowing my preferences. I just … couldn’t.Covering the mood slip, I smiled and waved, brandishing my frontdesk stamp collection and channeling my favorite cartoonpenguins.
My snake tattoo, afull sleeve that ran the length of my arm with the fangs curvingover my pointer and thumb, got a lot of attention from the endlessstream of costumed party-goers. Fray at peak hour on any givennight was busy. Fray on Halloween on a Trick-or-Freak-themed nightthat brought a swag of brand-new patrons into the regular communitywas a madhouse.
The BDSM shifterclub had rarely been so full. Apparently Killian’s theme was a hit.The floor manager circulated among guests, dealing with Dommes andmasters, and ensuring the odd bratty sub acting out stayedsafe.
I’d do anything tofind a good Dom, and Fray’s owner, Rafe Astor, knew it.
A year ago, Ientered his club and offered him my free hours—all of them—and ascrap of twisted lace. After listening to my story and ensuring Ifit into the community he’d built to protect the local shiftercommunity and provide an outlet for their specific needs, he gaveme a job and took the collar.
The job, I enjoyed.The collar got locked away.
Waving to a few moreregulars in party attire, I studiously ignored the cursedRoom3key that dangled on the master board above my head and keptan eye out for Killian or Rafe, should the owner and manager needanything.
A Dom himself, Itrusted Rafe from his reputation and a friendly introduction tofind a suitable match for me when I’d been so broken I couldn’trecognize a decent Dom if I tripped over one in the middle of thestreet.
So, I sat at thereception desk on Halloween, stamping wrists and rating costumes inan increasingly harsh scale that existed solely inside my head.
“Next,” called oneof the Roo bouncers. A Red winked at me around the door and tossedhis next victim inside.
A tall, white boywith a swath of sandy blond hair dressed as The Man In Black smiledat me beneath his mask and held out his arm.
I didn’t smileback.
The moment he walkedinto the club, I knew something was wrong.
Human.
He wasn’t a shifter,which meant he had no business being inside Fray, party night ornot.
I caught his wristout of a long-born habit, but my stamp hovered over his skin. Darkeyes burned twin pinpoints into my soul as I cleared my throat.
“You know what sortof a club this is?”
“A friend directedme here. I’m always up for a bit of kink.”
“Mmm. Of course, youare.” I closed my eyes and offered a non-committal hum, searchingfor the best way to tell the poor sucker that the Roo shifter onthe door had let him in for a night of horrors when he figured outwe weren’t all human.
Even Rafe made arare show tonight, circling the tall ceiling over the bar, hiswedge-tailed eagle wings spread wide. His cry echoed over the musicin a haunting tone.
“Cool place.” Theguy tried again, offering a disarming grin, but his eyes werewatchful, waiting for me to let him in.
Not gonna happen,tall punk.
Even if he was a bitof a cute punk, rocking a boyish-come-business vibe.
