and control. But I’d suffered at the hands of a sadist, so I couldn’t comprehend why anyone would choose to be a willing victim.
Or, as they called it, submissive.
I leaned away from Claude. “Have you seen what they do in the rooms upstairs?”
“I’ve heard, but Chitahs are discouraged from venturing up there. While I understand they have safe words and it’s all consensual, my instincts will kick in if I see a male degrading or chaining up a female.”
“I saw a man tied to a rack while someone whipped him, and they were whipping him hard. Why the hell would anyone want to be abused like that?”
Claude sighed. “You can’t judge someone else’s lifestyle based on your own experiences. Places like this are about control, whether it’s taking or giving it away. It’s also about trust in a safe place. I’m not a psychologist, but you’re asking a lot about the submissive roles. What about the dominants?”
My legs rubbed against the sink when I slid off.
“People share a lot of personal stuff at the salon,” he went on. “For some, it’s a fantasy. For others, they have too much control in life and want to give it to someone else. Abuse victims or those in imbalanced relationships go to these clubs to regain power. But you need to do it for the right reasons or else it becomes self-destructive.”
“The right reasons?” I turned toward him, arms folded. “I don’t see how there’s a right reason to beat someone or—”
“Degrade customers at the bar?” Claude stood up and rested his hands on my shoulders.
I shrugged him off. “They’re the ones lining up for it. I’m not making anyone do anything they don’t want.”
His golden eyes narrowed. “Yes, but what is it that you want? Are you treating them that way to fulfill their needs or yours? Think about that.”
The door opened, and two women bustled in, their loud chatter filling the room.
“I need a drink,” I said.
“It was nice officially meeting you, Robin. Don’t be a stranger.”
He gave the two women a flirtatious smile as he walked in those clunky combat boots toward the private restrooms.
I stalked back to the bar with a fire in my belly. It had only been a week, and this place was already getting under my thick skin. I hadn’t dreamed about Fletcher in a long time, and something about this job was giving me nightmares about the monster who made me. He was out there somewhere, probably in a place like this.
When I reached the bar, I cleared the napkins and empty glasses from my station. Across the dimly lit room, over by the red and black furniture, a white-haired man locked eyes with me. My breath caught. It felt as if the entire universe had cracked wide open.
Instead of provocative clothing, he had on faded jeans and a smart grey jacket with the collar up. Though he looked like a man in his early twenties, his regal features and demeanor set him apart. Arms spread over the back of the sofa, he stared at me as if no one else existed.
I spun around and faced the bottles of liquor.
Simone waved her hand in front of my face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
I had.
And his name was Houdini.
Chapter 10
When I turned back around, Houdini had vanished. Had I just imagined him? Had I drunk too much tequila? Maybe the lights were playing tricks on me. Then again, Houdini wasn’t a stranger to clubs. We’d first met in a bar, and after a night of heavy drinking and sharing deep thoughts, he gave me his immortal blood.
Right before abandoning me.
Houdini had assured me it was not done maliciously, and as I’d come to know him better in the past year, I believed him. He didn’t commit heinous acts against people. Even when I was his captive, he treated me with respect. Fed me, clothed me, and even protected me from harming myself. But it didn’t excuse the fact that he made younglings and sold them on the black market. He justified his actions with such genuine belief that it made me wonder if either he was clinically insane, or I resented him so much that I refused to see the truth. It might have been better if he had won the auction instead of Christian. I wouldn’t have the necklace, but I’d have his money, and Lenore wouldn’t have walked away with a big chunk of Christian’s life savings.