understand why all of this is being done, well, now. Rather than in a week from now. After I sleep for a week.”
“You can read up to twenty books in a day when bored, and after reading through them, you pace. Pacing is bad for your health. Your reading habits were disclosed to the buyers to ensure you’re properly stimulated.”
What the actual fuck was wrong with the people in the East? Buying and selling people took the cake, but they thought my reading held the secrets of the universe? However much I enjoyed reading, it would not save anyone from my scheming, especially not when I had a group of asshole music mages to bury. “I’m adaptable.”
“Well, you are a fox. That is a baseline trait of all fox hybrids. You’re adaptable, curious, and prone to create trouble should you be permitted to become overly bored. Your buyer is wisely preparing for you, and she does not view your medical situation as something capable of slowing you down for long.”
“I guess foxes are trendy,” I muttered.
“More than merely trendy. There have been several buyers interested in you for years, and interest has only grown since your rather successful dodging of bounty hunters. Frankly, had there not been a murder attempt, I expect it would have taken at least another few months for the current batch of bounty hunters to bring you into custody. Your provisional buyer in the Alley complicated matters.”
“So I’ve been told. And he’ll be paid?”
“The payment for purchasing out his contract has already been submitted, and per the current legal rules, your buyer pays his taxes. He will receive the full value of your auction as compensation for your loss.”
I couldn’t imagine how much taxes my buyer paid between Sandro’s share, the auction house fees, and the money I would supposedly be paid to go along with being enslaved by some rich family with more money than sense. “Dr. Dorothy had mentioned I’d be paid, too. Is that true?”
“It absolutely is, and like your provisional owner, you must be paid the complete amount, and your buyer is responsible for the taxes. Part of the delay is handling all of the payments, as we do not release our courtesans until all legalities and payments are handled. As your provisional buyer’s identity was sealed in the Alley, it took an hour for the auction house to receive the banking details associated with that contract. Your buyer was not notified of your provisional owner’s identity, nor will she be notified.”
“And my provisional owner? Is he being notified?”
“He has been notified with an anonymous method of contact should he wish to make a bid to purchase you from your buyer. Considering the amount of money paid for you, I do not expect the bid to be successful should he make one.”
I wondered what Sandro would do—if he did anything at all.
Only time would tell.
“What’s next?”
“We need to grab a few more things for you, and then you meet your buyer. As soon as all of the payments are cleared, you’ll go to your new home. Until you’re fully recovered, I expect you’ll be pampered. You’re worth far too much to be ill-treated, so don’t worry about that. That said, we do check in with our courtesans to make sure they’re being treated well. It’s a part of the contract.”
Of course. The contracts went beyond the sane, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to untangle myself from it. “Well, let’s get this done, then.”
Once I learned if my buyer would be a boon or an obstruction, I’d decide what to do with my future—if I could do anything at all. I’d find out soon enough.
Saturday, May 23, 2043.
Albany, New York.
The East.
* * *
Life enjoyed fucking around with me. Since the Alley hadn’t killed me, the East needed to take a few swings in an effort to finish the job. I clutched Peace and the mostly empty backpack containing my paperwork, including the provisional contract I’d signed with Sandro.
My buyer possessed a disturbing and striking resemblance to the bounty hunter. Maybe her skin wasn’t quite as tanned as his, but I recognized her smug expression. While I’d thought Sandro had mastered it through becoming a quadrant master, I was forced to reevaluate my stance. No, there was no way in hell he’d earned his smug expression and hotter-than-hell body.
His mother packed the goods, and she’d given her son more than his fair share of it.
How unfair.
I flattened my ears, wondering what