Chapter 1

I parked in front of the large, nondescript concrete building, which looked just like all the other factories and warehouses around it, and wondered once again what the hell I was doing here. The Food Market was the sort of place I usually wanted to shut down, even though I understood its necessity in a city with such a unique population. The idea of buying other sentient beings for food had always seemed repugnant, perhaps because I didn't need to kill in order to feed.

And yet here I was. Luring in the appropriate prey was rarely a short or simple process, and I frequently neither had the time or energy to properly devote to the hunt. Plus there was always the risk of discovery, no matter how careful I was. Too many of my kind had suffered after feeding carelessly or going after the wrong person, and it was a danger I couldn't continue to ignore, not even in this city. Obtaining a steady, safe source of sustenance seemed like a sensible solution to both problems.

I sighed and forced myself to get out of the car. There was a burly werewolf standing guard by the front entrance. He looked me over, nostrils flaring, and then nodded and opened the door. Inside was a typical lobby with a reception desk and waiting area. The décor was tasteful, but there were no signs, logos, or other indications of the true purpose of this business, other than the security door behind the desk, guarded by another husky were.

The perky young wraith seated at the desk smiled pleasantly as I approached. She said brightly, "Good evening, sir! How can I help you?"

"I have an appointment with Mr. Briggs. My name is Sam Campbell." I handed her a business card and tried to push my misgivings aside.

"Of course, Mr. Campbell! I'll let Mr. Briggs know you're here." She picked up the phone, pressed a speed-dial button, and spoke briefly before glancing back up at me. "Please go in. He's waiting for you downstairs."

The werewolf opened the door behind her, which led to a staircase. I swallowed nervously and went through, then started down the steps. I heard the door close above me as I descended. At the bottom of the stairs was another security door, which buzzed and clicked open when I reached for the knob.

As I stepped into through the doorway, an almost palpable wave of fear and unhappiness struck me, and I had to pause to keep from gagging. My nature made me more sensitive to human emotions, and though I'd long learned to filter most of them out in day-to-day interactions, it was impossible to ignore the level of misery here. I had a strong urge to turn and leave; the only thing keeping me going was the faint thought that in a way I'd be rescuing at least one person from this wretched situation.

I surveyed the lower level once I got my nausea under control. I was at the beginning of a wide corridor that ran the entire length of the building. Side passages branched off every thirty feet, each one lined with a series of glass-fronted cells. The blocks of cells were about fifteen feet tall, and the ceiling rose up an additional fifteen feet above that. Armed guards stood at the mouths of every other hallway, and more patrolled on top of the cell blocks. Despite what had to be a staggering number of prisoners kept here, the entire floor was almost eerily quiet, the only sound being the low conversations of other customers and footsteps of the guards.

A heavyset ghoul in a decent-quality suit drew near, smiling unctuously. His manner became positively obsequious when he took in my scent. "Ah, Mr. Campbell, I'm so glad to see you! I'm Mr. Briggs, lead salesman here at the Market." He extended a fleshy hand.

After we shook, he continued. "This is your first time visiting our fine establishment, correct? My apologies for the err, . . . atmosphere here, but it's unavoidable given the nature of our business. But we want to do everything we can to make this an enjoyable experience for you. A happy customer is a repeat customer, after all! Would you like a glass of water or wine or other refreshment? No?

"Let me start by assuring you that we offer the highest quality of product here at the Food Market. All our stock is quarantined upon arrival and goes through rigorous testing to ensure they are free of disease or defect before they're brought to the showroom floor. We also check their backgrounds carefully to make sure their disappearances won't attract any unwonted attention. Our motto is 'Discreet, clean, and safe.'

"We have the widest range of merchandise here than anyplace else in the community. Whatever a customer might be looking for, we're guaranteed to have. We have all sexes, ages, ethnicities and any size, body type, coloring, or other physical characteristics you might want. On the off-chance that none of the current selections here suit your tastes, you can give us your specifications, and we'll notify you when we receive a more appropriate commodity. Any questions so far, sir?"

I shook my head. His practiced sales-pitch and the fact that he never used the words "humans" or "people" to refer to those being sold in this place made me feel ill again. And hypocritical for trying to pretend that my purpose today was any nobler than the other creatures shopping for a meal here.

Briggs rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Well then, Mr. Campbell, how can we help you tonight? What are you looking for?"

I cleared my throat. "Um, male, early to mid-twenties in age, attractive appearance. I'm afraid I can't be more specific. I'll have to see and talk to the person to determine if he'll . . . suit."

"Of course, of course! Will this purchase be for short-term disposal or for more long-term use?" His expression attempted to be coy.

I tried to keep my disgust hidden as I replied, "Long-term. So compatibility is a high priority."

"If I may be indelicate, is there a particular price point we should stay below?"

"My budget is flexible. I'm willing to be negotiable about the price if I find the right man." I felt even dirtier after saying this.

Briggs cocked his head and eyed me appraisingly for a moment before smiling broadly. "Mr. Campbell, you're in luck! I think I have the perfect sample to meet your needs. Please follow me, sir."

He led me down the main corridor and through a door at the end. We walked past what appeared to be several private viewing rooms and through yet another door. This room held a number of smaller cells whose glass fronts were opaque and dark.

The ghoul strolled to the far side of the room and stopped in front of one of the last cells. "We house the more unusual and valuable stock in this room. I think this particular item will appeal to you." He pressed a button, and the glass turned transparent. A buzzer sounded inside the cell, and its occupant got to his feet and moved closer to the front.

My breath caught, because the young man in the cell was stunning. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and was fairly tall, perhaps five or six inches shorter than I. He had broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist and hips and long, bowed legs, and what I could see of his figure in the cheap white scrubs he was wearing was leanly muscled. His dark gold hair was short and spiky, his green eyes were large and fringed with impossibly long lashes, and his fair skin was smooth and flecked with cinnamon freckles. His cheekbones were high, his nose straight and narrow, his jaw sharp and chiseled, and his mouth full and sensual.

I saw Briggs press another button out of the corner of my eye, and vents in the thick glass pane opened. I froze in shock as the rich, sweet scent of an unclaimed omega wafted out of the cell. Even among the prolific human population, omegas were rare and highly sought after. Some found careers in modeling or acting, but most were snapped up as trophy spouses for the rich and powerful. In all my long life, I'd only had the opportunity to feed on an omega a handful of times, and I'd never heard rumor of any being sold through the Market before.

Briggs took in my astonished expression with a self-satisfied smile. "Magnificent, isn't it? This specimen is Dean Winchester, age twenty-six. We suspected it might be an omega when it was first brought in due to its physical appearance, and we received confirmation when the scent blockers it'd been using wore off in quarantine. So once it passed all the necessary tests, we naturally brought it here. It is quite a prized find, as we've had the privilege of offering an omega for sale very few times. You're one of the first customers I've shown this one to.

"Despite that, have no fear that anyone will coming looking for it. The father is serving a life sentence in prison, and there's been no sign of contact between them since before the trial. We found no record of any other living relatives, other than a foster father who took custody after the sire was incarcerated. This particular commodity has been a drifter since reaching legal majority; therefore its sudden disappearance will hardly be a surprise to anyone. So Mr. Campbell, what do you think?"

I stepped up to the glass pane to take a closer look at the young man, who stared right back. His form was exquisite and his movements graceful, and I could already feel the first stirrings of desire based on his looks and scent alone. Above and beyond that, his defiant glare, raised chin, and set jaw indicated he had spirit as well.

I moved back and glanced over at the salesman. "I'm interested, of course. I'd like a chance to talk to him in private first though, before making any decisions."

"Certainly, sir! We can bring it to one of the viewing rooms for you. Would you like to have it stripped for a thorough appraisal?" he asked.

I shot a startled look in his direction. "No! Um . . . that won't be necessary."

Briggs nodded and guided me to a private room. As I seated myself, he said, "One of the guards will be bringing the merchandise here shortly. You're welcome to touch it, but please refrain from any intercourse or feeding until after the purchase is finalized. Once you're done with your evaluation or if you need assistance, press the buzzer here and the guard will return."

He left me alone after that. A couple minutes later, a guard opened the door and pushed Dean, who was restrained with shackles on wrists and ankles, inside before quickly shutting the door. I gestured at one of the other chairs, and he sat slowly and looked at me sullenly.

I resisted the urge to squirm under that resentful stare. "Hello, Dean. My name is Sam. How—how are you doing?"

"Sam, huh? Well, this ain't a goddamn social call! Whaddya fucking want?" he snapped in a deep voice.

"Do you know what this place is? It's called the Food Market, and it's where vampires, ghouls, and worse all buy their meals. All the things that want to drink your blood, eat your liver, or snack on your pituitary gland shop here. And if no one buys you after a certain length of time, you get fed to the werewolves and other creatures who run this place," I said.

"Yeah, the sonsofbitches in charge of this shithole made it real damn clear what's going on when I got here," the omega spat. His words were bold, but his face was pale, and he was trembling slightly. "So what's your fucking deal? You wanna rip my heart out too, or use my intestines as a jump rope, or some shit like that?"

"I'm not here to kill you or even hurt you," I assured him. "I'm an incubus, which means I feed on sexual energy. I'm looking for someone to take to bed periodically, and that's it. So what would you prefer to do? You can come home with me, or you can take your chances here with the next buyer. Someone like you is guaranteed to get snapped up quick, and the other customers' needs might not be as pleasant."

"Gee, what a great fucking choice! I get to pick between getting eaten alive or getting raped on a regular basis," he sneered. His anger and fear had increased, which was not my intent.

I flinched. "God no, nothing like that! I—I should've explained this better. I feed on sexual pleasure, so my partner has to be willing and enjoying himself or I get nothing out of it. I won't force you, and I won't do anything that you don't like. And outside of when I need to feed, I'll try my best to make you comfortable."

Dean gave me a long, suspicious look and then threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! It ain't like I got any better options in this fucking dump. So I guess I'll come with you."

I smiled at him tentatively. "Great! I have to be honest—this is my first time, um, buying someone from here, so I don't know what to expect. I . . . I hope that you'll find what I'm offering you is acceptable."

He still looked concerned but seemed less frightened. "Don't suppose you'll let me go eventually?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, I can't. We've survived undetected for as long as we have by following certain rules, and one of those is controlling who does or doesn't know about us."

He sighed. "Figures. Okay, so what happens next?"

"I'll talk to the salesman and see what red-tape I have to deal with, and then I'll take you home," I said.

I pressed the buzzer, and the guard came in. Before the werewolf could reach for him, the young man shuffled out. After a few minutes, Briggs walked into the viewing room and sat down across from me.

Before he could open his mouth, I said, "I'll take him. How much?"

He named a figure that made me wince. My counter-offer caused him to clutch at his chest. We haggled for the better part of a half-hour before eventually agreeing on a price. It was more than twice what I'd expected to pay before coming here, but nowhere close to the exorbitant highway robbery of his initial quote. He left to draw up the sales contract, while I pulled out my checkbook to pay for the transaction.

The ghoul returned in under ten minutes with several forms. Before handing them over, he asked, "How would you like to take custody of your acquisition once we're done? We can deliver it directly to your home or any other location of your choice. Or, if you're only buying the one piece, you can take it from here yourself. We of course will tranquilize it first to avoid any difficulties in transport."

"I'll take him home myself," I replied firmly.

He nodded genially. "Excellent. Included in the sale is a spell that will confine your new possession to whatever area you deem fit, whether that is a single room or your entire house. Once the spell is in place, your merchandise won't be able to cross its boundaries. It also can't harm you, itself, or anyone else or damage any of your other valuables within the bounds of the spell. Instructions to cast, remove, and modify the spell will be included with your copy of the contract.

"In addition, we can provide other means to assist in managing your purchase, free of charge. We can supply you with handcuffs, shackles, leashes, and other restraints. Or if you'd prefer something less obtrusive, we have spells or drugs to keep it docile and compliant. Many of our customers with a long-term asset like this also make use of our services to properly break it in and train it."

My skin crawled at the thought of his suggestions, and I shook my head emphatically. "No, thank you! The first spell should be sufficient. If . . . if it turns out I need anything more, I'll contact you."

"Of course, Mr. Campbell. I doubt an alpha like you will have trouble controlling one young omega. Now, if you'll please sign on each of the flagged lines? Then once you hand over your payment, we can finalize this transaction."

As much as I wanted to get out of here right away, I made sure to read through the sales contract carefully before signing anything. The document spelled out the terms of the sale and included clauses for return of my new property if he turned out to be unsatisfactory, liability if he caused harm to anyone's person or belongings, and consequences if he escaped. After confirming that there were no unpleasant surprises, I quickly signed and returned the contract and added the completed check.

Briggs added his signature to the appropriate places and gave back one copy of all the documents. He also handed me a small manila envelope. "Congratulations, you are now the owner of one Dean Winchester. After we're done here, you can bring your car around to the loading dock to pick up your property. In the envelope are the possessions it had on it when it came to this facility. We threw out its shoddy clothing and destroyed its cellphone upon capture, but everything else of potential interest is in there to do with as you see fit."

I opened the envelope and dumped its contents onto the table. There was a worn wallet containing a driver's license, a small amount of cash, a few scraps of paper, and a couple photos—one of Dean with an older bearded man and one of him leaning against a gleaming black muscle car. Next to that were a Swiss army knife and a keyring with a rifle bullet, a set of Chevrolet keys, and a single house key. In addition, there was a grooved silver ring, a military-style wristwatch, a mala bracelet of wooden skull beads, and a strange bronze amulet of a horned head on a leather thong. I pushed everything back into the envelope and resealed it.

The salesman stood and shook my hand. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Campbell. My business card is attached to your copy of the forms. Please feel free to call me at any time regarding your purchase, or if you wish to acquire additional merchandise in the future. Good evening!"

I left the room and went down the main corridor and back upstairs. As instructed, I drove around to the back of the building, where two large weres carried my unconscious new companion to the car and laid him out on the backseat.

He was still in the white scrubs but now sported a gold collar around his neck. It was designed to pass as a piece of jewelry, but anyone in the community would recognize what it truly was. There was also a small bandage between his shoulder blades where an RFID tag had been injected. His wrists and ankles were bound with zip-ties.

Once the werewolves went back inside, I pulled out a pocket knife and cut the zip-ties. I buckled Dean in as best I could and covered him with a blanket. I then got in the car and left the Food Market, hopefully for good.