Darkhaven and we can try to make sense out of what little we got from Odolf tonight.
Elise turned a level look on him. We can talk about that on the way to Aphrodite, she said. I'm going with you.
He met her unwavering stare and exhaled a defeated chuckle. Suit yourself then. But don't say I didn't warn you.
Despite living a sheltered existence in the Darkhavens, Elise had never considered herself a prude. But walking with Tegan into the private back entrance of Aphrodite gave her an instant education in eroticism.
They were let in by a huge, muscle-bound man in a dark, tailored suit. He wore a wireless communication device on his ear, with a small microphone that extended near his goatee-rimmed mouth. He spoke into the mic, presumably advising his employer that her guests had arrived, as he escorted Tegan and Elise through the main floor of the club.
Festooned in bright carnival colors, with polished brass fixtures and sumptuously appointed furnishings, the lounge and bar area was a visual feast. Beautiful nude women reclined on animal- print sofas, some of them entertaining a male client or two in full view of all. Still others performed together, kissing and caressing one another as men wearing silk robes or sauna towels watched with rapt, heated stares.
On another cushioned nest near the bar, a man was being serviced by four women at once. Elise could hardly keep from gaping at the erotic tangle of tanned arms and legs. Even over the soft, pumping beat of the music pouring in through the overhead speakers, she could hear the slap of skin meeting skin, and the pleasured moans and hoarse shouts of release coming from practically every corner of the lounge.
Surrounded by so much humankind, Elise weathered the low drone of her talent, which stirred to life as soon as they entered the club. Fortunately, most of the input hitting her was of a lustful nature, some of it graphically so, but nothing disturbing enough to cause true pain.
She remembered Tegan's coaching and reached with her mind for one of the least offensive voices that was filling her head. She brought it forward, using it to damper the others as she made her way through the place.
When she braved a glance at Tegan, she found him staring at her. If he noticed any of the public couplings taking place all around them, he didn't seem fazed in the least. No, he seemed to be more interested in measuring her reaction. His gaze was hard, penetrating. His jaw seemed clamped tight enough to shatter his teeth.
The intensity of his look made her too warm inside. Elise blinked, glancing away. But glancing away from him meant seeing more of the club. More raw, pulsing sexuality, which only made her all the more aware of Tegan and the very vivid knowledge of how good their bodies felt together.
She couldn't have been more relieved when their escort paused in front of an elevator bank and led them inside a waiting car.
They rode up to the fourth floor. The elevator opened into a glass-walled suite outfitted as both office and bedroom. Reichen stood up to greet them, rising from an elegant sprawl on the luxurious round bed. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned and hanging loose, his finely cut gray trousers showcasing his trim waist and smooth, muscular chest. The vampire's dermaglyphs swirled over his pecs in winglike flourishes, drawing the eye to the masculine beauty of his form.
He seemed accustomed to being admired and merely smiled as Elise and Tegan strode into the room.
I didn't realize you would be accompanying Tegan here, he said, gallantly taking Elise's hand. I hope you aren't too shocked.
Not at all, she said, hoping her discomfiture didn't show. Reichen brought her in front of the tall brunette Elise had seen him with the other night. The woman wore a simple yet sophisticated ivory sweater and pants outfit that looked like it belonged in a boardroom more than a brothel. Tonight her long raven-dark hair was swept up in a loose chignon, secured with a pair of gleaming, tortoiseshell chopsticks.
She was the picture of professionalism, a curious contrast to the live video feeds playing on flat-screen monitors mounted behind her on the wall of the office. While images of people on the main floor of the club writhed and bucked on- screen, the woman merely smiled pleasantly as Reichen and Elise paused in front of her.
This is Helene, Reichen said. She owns the club, and