Amaya. I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise. If you serve me well, I might have further use for you. If not, I’ll leave you with a parting gift. But you need to ask yourself how far you’re willing to go to change the world? I know you’ve found religion. Like Jesus, will you allow yourself to be nailed to the cross?”
Their interaction is interrupted by the sound of the double doors opening over the sound of the music. A tall man enters wearing a traditional tuxedo and a ram headdress. Two, large curling horns adorn the side of his shiny black face. He walks like he owns everything around him.
Amaya can’t bring herself to look about the room. She wonders how many of these girls are terrified to be here. How many of them are aware of the steep and soul-altering costs of their ambitions? Victims, all of them. “So, what’s the plan?”
Noelle laughs. “You’re a brave little duck, Amaya. With any luck, I’ll turn you into a beautiful swan. There’s a man coming to see us. He thinks he’s above the law. Will you help me prove him wrong?”
Amaya stares at The Ram. God has given her a mission, and she won’t turn away this time. “Yes,” she says steadily, “I’ll help you.”
Noelle nods discretely and focuses on the man approaching them. She speaks with a French accent this time, emulating the real Noelle. “Welcome, Ram. How may I please you this evening?”
The Ram looks to his left and right before settling on Noelle. “I was told you knew I’d be coming.” His words are sober and clipped. The skin around his eyes and beneath his mask is covered with black. He’s wearing unnatural contacts that transform his eyes an artificial shade of blue.
Amaya feels Noelle’s cold hand return to her neck. “Yes,” Noelle replies and gently strokes Amaya’s nape with her thumb. “I’m told your tastes are more forbidden than most.”
The Ram chortles. “That’s one way to put it.” He sits on the edge of the altar and leans forward on one hand. “Did you bring it?”
Noelle grips Amaya’s neck. She squeezes once, twice, and a third time. Weighing a decision in the span of a pause. Decided, she pushes Amaya forward onto her hands and knees. When Amaya attempts to rise, she finds Noelle’s hand once again on her neck, gentle and proprietary. “It is right here.”
“The duck?” remarks The Ram. He looks her over. “Nice little body. I like the dark ones; they can take the most.” If it weren’t for Noelle’s hand on Amaya’s neck, grounding her, reminding her why they are here, Amaya would attack him. She’s glad VV’s going to kill him—at least—she’s pretty sure that’s what she’s planning.
“This one isn’t trained. It’s why she’s up here with me instead of out there with them.” Noelle tilts her chin toward the other girls in the room. “But then, I thought a man like you would prefer to take a hand in training his pets.”
Amaya’s anxiety bursts to the forefront. Her instincts tell her this is a test of some kind. If she passes, VV will let her into her trust. Still, she can’t ignore her words from earlier. If VV finds a situation to the benefit of her movement, she will readily sacrifice anything and anyone standing in her way.
Amaya realizes she must take care not to be blinded by her adoration. She bucks Noelle’s hold on her and sits back on her heels to glare at them both. “It has a name, two ears, can hear you, and is sitting right here.”
The Ram is taken aback but amused. He laughs congenially. “You weren’t kidding. She’s as unbroken as a wild mare.”
Noelle returns her hand to Amaya’s neck. “I’m sure you’ll appreciate the challenge as much as I have. She responds only to me; she’s my favorite. You won’t have an easy time negotiating with me for her.”
The Ram looks at them both appraisingly. He leans forward and places a leather-clad hand on Amaya’s bare thigh. She shoves his hand away and scoots closer to Noelle’s seat. She can tell her rebelliousness has stirred something in The Ram, some dark and sinister need. “What do you call her?”
“Mia,” says Noelle. Amaya feels a fluttering in her stomach and a clench further south.
“Mia,” he repeats, tasting the name on his tongue like a snake. “I like that. It means ‘mine’.”
Amaya shivers. The Ram gives her the creeps. Whatever he has planned, it isn’t meant