where in Tulsa I might find a church, as most had lost their faith long ago when it became apparent the storms would only become worse no matter how hard they prayed. Then I remembered Asylum named their upper government officials ministers of various sorts.
I pulled out Alastar’s note, wondering how much of a treasure I’d stumbled across. I opened the page, reading it over. “The note is signed by Alastar Bennett, Interior Minister.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You have a note from Mr. Mansfield’s personal assistant?”
I almost dropped the slip of paper, well aware of who Mansfield was, his role in Asylum’s creation, and his drive to rule over those within his domain. “If that is Alastar Bennett, then yes.” I took a moment to describe the haughty man and his pristine suit. “Is that him?”
“That certainly sounds like him. And how would you, a fox, have met him?”
I could choose to ignore the scorn in her voice or lose the war, so I replied, “One of my employers is Brent McCoy—”
“Ah, I understand. Yes. We are aware there would be one of his staff coming for a pass. They neglected to inform me you are a fox, however.”
As I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that didn’t involve calling her some form of name or another, I shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t believe my status as a hybrid made any difference at all for my ability to get the job done.”
While I could only think of my tone as lifeless, lifeless beat rabid or irritable.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but as I kept my expression neutral, she nodded. “Follow me. You’ll be assumed to be a courtesan, and the courtesan applications are being handled at a different building, which is where the foxes are being directed. The vixens haven’t been coming out much, but there are a surprising number of men willing to try their luck at the auctions for a chance to be brought into Asylum.”
Ah. “You thought I was here to be a courtesan?”
“That is what the foxes are coming over for right now. Your kind are in demand, especially with the growing evidence that hybrids are excellent gene carriers. First generation foxes are in high demand. What generation are you?”
I frowned. “First generation foxes? What do you mean by that?”
In the East, bloodlines and family lines mattered more than anything else. In the Alley, at least above ground, survival trumped everything else. I’d gotten more than my fair share of catcalls, but nobody had asked me about my generation before.
“Were either of your parents a fox? If not, you’re a first generation, which means you’re a talent developer, so you’re in much higher demand with the prominent families in Asylum.” The woman relaxed, and she offered me a smile. “You’re pretty enough, with that hair a good match for your fur, so you’d be a striking addition to any household.”
“My parents aren’t hybrids. My mother is a witch, and my father is a mage,” I replied, grateful it was the truth. “I’m the only fox in my family.”
“Even among your grandparents or great grandparents?”
“My family prefers to keep with compatible magic types, so I’m a fluke.”
“Is that why you’re here? Outcasted?” At that, the woman scowled. “I was wondering why a fox like you was on your own when you’re in such high demand, especially now. With the storms in fluctuation and talents generally weakening except for the odd quadrant master mage or witch, most believe foxes are the solution to a difficult problem.”
Hello, intel. I perked my ears forward. “Really?”
“Yes, of course. Come along. I’ll take you inside and see to your paperwork, and I’ll ask one of the ministers to discuss some of your other options with you. That you have two sponsors works in your favor. There are also some notable residents of Asylum who might be interested in possible contracts with you. We don’t force auctions if potential couples wish to negotiate on their own. That only requires an official witnessing the documentation.”
I could make a few guesses as to why. Why overcomplicate the buying and selling of people? If I entered the contract willingly, did I count as a slave? If I expected the pressure, it would be easier to cope with. My first step would be to get into Asylum, then I could work on the next phase of my plan, which involved luring Sandro to neutral ground.
At Batbayar’s urging, I followed the woman while he went to work organizing