“Like this.” Stepping up to the drawing, Mistress Douchenbag twisted a large ruby ring off her middle finger and pressed the glittering ruby against the door’s keyhole.
Jillian heard a soft click.
Just like a real key turning in a lock, she thought. And then, suddenly, the chalk drawing began to firm and fill itself in and become…
“Oh, it’s a real door,” Jillian breathed, staring at the ornately carved brown wooden door with a brass doorknob which had been just a drawing only a moment ago.
“Of course it’s a real door,” Mistress Douchenbag sniffed. “And a very exclusive one at that. Come—we must hurry before the molecules shift again and it’s nothing but a drawing once more.”
She opened the door, which led into a kind of dimly lighted passageway, and went into it without a moment’s hesitation.
Jillian did hesitate—but only for a moment. Once she made up her mind to do something, she generally followed through with it and she had promised to at least have tea with the Yonnite Mistress and hear her out before refusing to take Kalis as her bodyslave. A promise was a promise.
So despite the warning little voice in her head, she ducked into the passageway and Kalis followed behind her, shutting the door behind them.
6
She’s the one—the one I’ve been dreaming of. Kalis watched the curvy little female as she made her way through Mistress Douchenbag’s passage ahead of him. She was just as beautiful as she’d been in all his dreams—a mature Elite—an older woman the Goddess had blessed with extra-bountiful curves. Gods, he was already half in love with her!
But though he remembered clearly every dream he’d ever had of her, Jillian Marks seemed to have forgotten any dreams she might have had of him. She was extremely reluctant to take him as her bodyslave, for one thing, and she looked at him askance, ever since Mistress Douchenbag had mentioned that he was classified as a Deadly Weapon.
Kalis wished the Yonnite Mistress would keep her damn mouth shut—she was only making matters worse. And her extreme fear of him had no basis in reality—he had only been protecting her shop, after all. It wasn’t his fault that what she’d seen had scared the shit out of her!
Have to find a way to convince Jillian that I’d be a good fit for her, he thought, as he followed along behind her. Hopefully his skills at massage and pleasuring a female would stand him in good stead once they reached the spa. He would handle her with special care and let her know that his strength would never be turned against her, Kalis promised himself. She needed to understand that he would never hurt a female—especially not her.
But she can’t be your mate—you can’t Claim her or bond her to you, whispered a little voice in his head. She’s not B’varren, as Kara was—she won’t understand the necessity of your other form being involved in the process. In fact, you’ll probably scare her half to fucking death if she sees it—just like Mistress Douchenbag was scared.
He could still remember how white the Yonnite’s face had gotten when she saw him in his other form—the faint scream that had come from her lips before she fainted dead-away…
Kalis shook his head in disgust. He’d tried in vain to explain what he was and how he’d only been trying to serve and protect her—that was what she’d bought him for, wasn’t it? But damn it, she wouldn’t understand…
And he was afraid Jillian Marks wouldn’t understand either, if she saw him in his other form.
No, it was better to keep to his first form—which was easy enough. He hadn’t used his other form—his Ursus—much at all since he’d left the Blood Circuit, where it had come in handy and saved his life more than once. But here, in the world outside the pit of cruelty and slaughter which had been his life for seventeen cycles, he seldom had need to transition into the beast he kept inside.
And you’d better keep it inside you, at least until you can convince this new Mistress of your worth, whispered a little voice in his head. Even if you can never Claim her, you know you’re meant to be with her—to serve her. The Goddess wouldn’t have sent you dreams about her otherwise. But she’s never going to agree to take you if you show her your Ursus.
He had learned his lesson, Kalis told himself. He would keep the other form dormant within him. Someday, maybe, he might show his other self to Jillian Marks but not yet…not yet…
7
Well, I’m committed now, Jillian thought, as they walked swiftly through the passage. It seemed to be made of blue strips of some kind of stiff material—a completely covered arching tunnel that led on for a very long way.
But it wasn’t exactly a tunnel, Jillian thought, because it wasn’t underground. Through the blue strips of material, she could catch glimpses of the market and the customers and clients buying and selling their wares. It was more of a covered archway that led behind most of the stalls, clinging to the shadows of the booths in order to remain inconspicuous. The weak light of the Prius Six sun, filtering through the blue strips, gave the entire long passageway a bluish cast which made her feel like she was underwater.
They traveled what seemed like miles and miles—though maybe Jillian was just tired of walking—until they finally came to another flat chalk door drawn on the side of a very large building that Jillian had never seen before.
Once more, Mistress Douchenbag used her ruby ring as a kind of key and the door grew solid and real. As soon as it did, she rapped on it smartly three times and called,
“Twyla Douchenbag and an esteemed guest to visit the Yonnite Spa. Let us in!”
The door opened and a huge, bald bodyslave wearing tight leather trousers that were at least three sizes too small for him was revealed. Jillian wondered how he could even breathe—it looked like the bottom half of him had been shrink-wrapped in black leather.
“Yes, Mistress Douchenbag,” he rumbled. “How can we serve you today? And who is your guest?”
“Oh, hello, Torris. This is my cousin, Mistress Jillian, just arrived to visit me from Opulex,” Mistress Douchenbag said quickly. “I’ve told her all about the spa and she said she simply had to see it and try some of your tinga tea!”
“Very well, but I’m afraid you’ll have to share a relaxation grotto, since you didn’t make a prior appointment,” the bald bodyslave warned. “I have two openings in the rose-gold room—Mistress Sollasolew and Mistress Tagalong are already being pampered there.”
“Oh, Ylla and Hendris—two of my closest friends!” Mistress Douchenbag exclaimed. “Of course we’ll be happy to share a relaxation grotto with them!”
“Come right in then, and I’ll send an order to the kitchens for two tinga teas,” the bald bodyslave said.
“Excellent.” Mistress Douchenbag bustled past him and Jillian felt she had no choice but to follow. They entered the spa…and were immediately ensconced in luxury.
Wow, some serious money must have gone into this place, Jillian thought, looking around. Having worked in Vegas for so long, she was used to seeing excess, but the Yonnite spa took things to a different level.
The long entryway they were in was done in expensive-looking gray marble, shot through with glittering iridescent strips of some pearly mineral which threw miniature rainbows on the walls, floor, and ceiling. The ceiling itself was a high, marble arch hung with elaborate crystal chandeliers.