Burning Dawn. Gena Showalter

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СКАЧАТЬ anchored her hair into a bun at the crown of her head. “Let’s get our girl into a uniform. The club opens in a few hours, and I have a feeling she’s not even close to being prepared. No offense,” she said with a grin. “But you look about as ferocious as a newborn bunny.”

      “None taken.” Elin wasn’t prepared, and she couldn’t deny she was unaggressive and ready for a cuddle.

      “Questions? Comments?” Savy asked. “No? Good.”

      “Yes!” she rushed out. “I have questions.” But she would throw only the first thousand at them. The next thousand could wait.

      “No?” Savy said again. “Good. Tonight you’ll simply shadow us, learning how to take orders and how to deal with unruly customers. Of course, that means we get to keep all your tips. The money, the gold.” She sighed with dreamy pleasure. “And the jewels.”

      Gold? Jewels? Forget the questions. “Tell me more.”

      Bellorie pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing a sapphire skull-and-crossbones pendant. “Last night, a bear-shifter gave me this little beauty just for adding honey to his beer.”

      Sweet juicy sparkles! How much would a handful of baubles like that go for? Enough to finance Elin’s bakery?

      “Oh, before we forget,” Bellorie said, clapping her hands. “At the end of your shift, you may bed the male of your choice, but you can’t bring him to this room. Patrons aren’t allowed back here and are killed on sight. You can leave with him, and go anywhere you wish. Just make sure you know how to get back. Since you aren’t immortal, we don’t want you to accidentally walk over the edge of a cloud.”

      Note to self: stay inside the building forever.

      “I’m not looking for a relationship,” she assured them, “so I won’t be leaving with anyone.”

      Octavia arched a brow. “Backtrack, petal. No one said anything about a relationship.”

      Good point.

      Chanel put her hands on her hips and studied Elin more intently. “If I know men, and I do, like, seriously effing well—good?—you’ll appeal to the protector types. You’re not a great beauty, but there’s something about you...a vulnerability, maybe. They’re going to want to save you.”

      She wasn’t offended by the “not a great beauty” comment. She’d come to grips with her plain-Jane status a long time ago and made up for it with one heck of a personality. Or so she liked to think. “I don’t need saving.”

      All four girls burst into laughter.

      “What?” she demanded, a little peeved. “I don’t.” Not anymore. Thane had already checked that off her Life Goals list.

      Savy shrugged her delicate shoulders. “If you have any problems, go to Adrian, the head of security. If you can’t reach him, go to Bjorn. He’s in charge of the club’s employees. If you can’t reach him, either, go to Xerxes. Whatever you do, don’t go to Thane. Especially now.” She glanced out the window and smiled proudly. “I have a feeling this isn’t the last dispute he’s going to end with major bloodshed.”

      Great! Now Elin was thinking about being staked again.

      Did I make a terrible mistake coming here? Should I have taken my chances out in the wild, a target for Ardeo and his men?

      Octavia’s flawless emerald eyes twinkled as she came to stand at Elin’s side. Smacking her on the butt, she said, “Come on, human. Let’s get you a uniform. And while you’re being fitted, we can tell you the best part about your new life. As of now, you’re a member of our dodge-boulder team, the Multiple Scorgasms!”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      A BELLOW WOKE HIM. It was ragged. It was raw.

      It came from him.

      Thane jolted to awareness. He was in his room, in his bed, and it was dark. He was drenched in sweat, his lungs desperate for air. His muscles sore...from thrashing.

      Bjorn and Xerxes were beside him, pinning him to the mattress.

      He’d had another nightmare, harkening back to his time inside the demon dungeon. To captivity. Humiliation. Frustration. Pity. Sorrow. Rage. Helplessness. His eyes adjusted, and he glanced down, saw the bloody marks on his chest. As usual, he’d attempted to rip out his own heart.

      Anything to end the torment he was so good at hiding, even from himself. Until his guard lowered...

      Well, enough. He would take a lover today, he decided. He hadn’t done so since returning from the Phoenix camp, and he was feeling the effects of abstinence. He would exhaust himself so thoroughly, he wouldn’t have the strength to move when the next nightmare came.

      And it would. They always did.

      Bjorn and Xerxes sensed his change of mood and released him; he sagged, boneless, atop the bed.

      “Thank you,” he managed.

      “Defeating nightmares happens to be one of my many specialties.” Xerxes switched on the side lamp, a soft golden glow chasing away the shadows.

      “What about the times you are the nightmare?” Bjorn quipped.

      “I’m never the nightmare. I’m always the fantasy.”

      Bjorn snorted.

      A second later, the pair piled onto the bed, unwilling to leave. Thane knew why. They were willing to forgo much-needed rest in the hope of distracting him.

      A man could not ask for better friends.

      “Anyone else feel like girls at a slumber party?” Xerxes asked drily.

      Thane’s heart calmed. Grinning, he sat up and leaned against the headboard. “If you start talking about cute boys and prom dresses, I might shoot you both in the face.”

      “Wait. We’re having a prom?” Bjorn asked. He gave a fist pump. “Finally, a chance to be king.”

      “If anyone’s going to be prom king,” Thane said, voice stern, “it’s me. Look at this face. It’s a moneymaker.”

      Propping his hands behind his head, Bjorn said, “Hate to break it to you, angel boy, but even circus sideshows have moneymaking mugs.”

      Thane kicked him off the side of the bed. Thud. Xerxes laughed as Bjorn came up sputtering.

      Bjorn crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes on Thane. “About that prom...shall we guess who you’ll crown as your queen?”

      Thane stiffened. “Well played, my friend. Well played.”

      Bjorn grinned. “That’s the only way I play.”

      * * *

      LIFE AS A BARMAID both rocked and sucked.

      The plus: tips. Not that Elin had earned any of her own yet. Having СКАЧАТЬ