Helpless (Steel Demons MC #5) - Crystal Ash Page 0,59

understand the territory is in need of labor for the oil fields, and my team here is looking for work. Can you walk me through the process?”

The other guys hung back while Larkan chatted with the clerk, and I did my best to look like I was meandering through the lobby out of boredom. Clasping my hands loosely in front of me, I looked down demurely at the pattern of tiles under my feet.

They were polished to a high shine and a little slippery, like this place didn’t get enough foot traffic to build traction into the floor. That, or they were excessively cleaned by the territory’s biggest asset—human labor.

The echoey sound of footsteps scuffling away brought my gaze up. I looked just in time to see three people disappear through a door, dragging mops and buckets behind them. Blakeworth’s elite seemed adamant that their working class remain unseen and unheard.

I wandered toward a long window that stretched to the multiple floors above. The view showed more of the city below, indicating we were at the top of a hill or valley. More skyscrapers stretched so tall from the district below, it was hard to get a sense of the natural landscape.

One building, though, drew my attention more than the rest.

There was nothing remarkable about it—just another glass and concrete monstrosity, but it felt like my gaze was pinned there. Distantly, I was aware of Freyja rubbing around my ankles.

A small black bird seemed to be circling the building, going multiple times around the same floor. My stomach dropped as I turned to look at the guys, and saw T-Bone supported between Dyno and Grudge. His eyes had rolled back in his head so only the whites were visible, and he was twitching. Smartly, they had turned him away from the clerk Larkan was still talking to.

Heart drumming in my chest, I made my way back to them, still trying to look calm and bored. When T-Bone’s irises returned, they focused on me and he nodded.

“She’s in there,” he mouthed.

Dyno coughed once, an apparent signal to Larkan who leaned up from the front desk.

“Well, thanks for all your help. We’re going to—”

“Oh, one last thing, sir. The best way to seize a governor-approved contract is to attend his mixer and introduce yourself in person. He gives the best work to people who make a good impression on him.”

Larkan paused. “Mixer?”

“Yes, he hosts them in the public gardens every week,” the clerk smiled. “The next one is tonight.”

Nineteen

MARIPOSA

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes. Now stop grumbling and hold still. Look away.” I held Larkan’s eyelid open and gently placed the contact lens over his eyeball, then released his lid. “Okay, now blink for me. Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah.” He sat up, blinking several times with now fiery orange irises. “How do I look?”

“Almost exactly like these elitist assholes, but we’re not done yet.” I held up a black tube and Larkan’s face paled.

“Is that…?”

“Mascara, yes. All the dudes here are almost as made-up as the women. Now hold still and let me paint those lashes.”

“You better not ever tell Noelle. I mean it, Mari.”

“How do you know she won’t like it? Guyliner was hot back in the day, Lark.”

He never stopped grumbling and the others couldn’t contain their snickering, but he allowed me to apply mascara, a bit of concealer, and some tinted lip balm.

We did a remarkable amount of work in the few precious hours before the governor’s mixer. I traded some painkillers for a fancier dress, appropriate menswear, makeup, and colored contacts so Larkan and I could blend in at the mixer.

I sported some glittery, mossy green contacts myself, and piled on more makeup than I had ever worn in my lifetime. I looked and felt like a clown, but judging from the people we’d seen on the street, that was the whole point.

The other guys would stay hidden and scout the building for the best way to get Vance’s daughter out. It turned out to be only five blocks from the public garden so they planned to run by if they got her and we’d make a speedy exit. Shadow was quickly taught the hand signals used by the Sons to communicate with Grudge, and we were golden.

“Goddamn, little lady.” I couldn’t tell if T-Bone was laughing at, or appreciating my new look. “You look some kind of fuckin’, I dunno, tropical bird or something.”

I quickly penciled in Larkan’s brows as a finishing touch. “Should I say thanks, or shut