I've found your fingerprints on a glass of wine
Do you know you're leaving them all over this heart of mine, too
But if I never take this leap of faith, I'll never know
So I'm learning to fall with no safety net to cushion the blow
I bruise easily, so be gentle when you handle me
I Bruise Easily - Natasha Bedingfield
Seattle 2002
Ever since Christian came home for the break he has been so secretive. He won't even go running with her, preferring his own company and running for hours. If Auntie Elena had been here she would have asked her to talk to him but she was away at a convention in Las Vegas and was only arriving home today.
Mia was tempted several times that day to pick up the phone to talk with Elena. Her mother's friend was often the foil between Mia and her family as the hormones of adolescence kicked in. But every time she picked up the phone one of her parents would have some urgent task that they needed her to attend to.
"Mother, I'm going out. I won't be home for dinner." Mia looked up to see the frown cross her mother's face. The dimming afternoon light confirmed it was a little late to be changing plans.
"Christian…" The complaint was barely begun when he swung around to face her.
"Don't, mother. Things are bad enough." What? What had she missed? The look on her mother's face said she was going to challenge him. Mia willed her to back down. The arguments since he had returned home were burgeoning on World War III. They made her so nervous that she had already made plans of her own to be away from the house by the time her father got home.
Mia's mother bit her lip and glanced at Mia then back at Christian. "Well, I was going to ask if you could walk Mia to Lily's house before you go anywhere. It's getting dark and I don't like her out on the streets alone."
Christian sighed, running his hands through his hair. Mia looked at him, hoping that he would say yes and dreading that he would fight with their mother. Finally, he gave a begrudging shrug, "Sure, you ready to go, squirt?"
Mia held her tongue for the first block, not wanting to tread on his foul mood. By half-way through the second block, she couldn't stand the silence.
"Do you want to play tennis tomorrow?"
"No." The sharp retort was all she got for the next half block. Then, "I will most likely be out tomorrow." And that was the sum total of the conversation, until they stopped outside Lily's house. With tears threatening she ran towards the door as he stalked off down the road. Instead of going inside, Mia dumped her overnight bag down the side of the house and followed him the six blocks to Auntie Elena's house.
At first, she considered walking up to the front door and knocking, after she saw him go inside. But then he didn't go in the front door. He went down the side and let himself in through the laundry. That wasn't so odd. What was odd was him having a key. Mia searched for an open window without much success until she finally saw some movement through the window that she knew was a guest bedroom.
Careful not to make any noise, she manoeuvred herself past the trellis wall and peered over the edge of the window frame. She expected to see Auntie Elena, or Christian, or both. What she didn't expect, was to see a girl that she knew worked at Auntie Elena's salon. This girl had long dark hair and big brown eyes. It was lucky her hair was so long because she wasn't wearing anything except underwear and she was kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed.
A moment later the bedroom door opened and Elena walked in, with Christian behind her. Elena was wearing a tight black leather dress and her hair was tied up in a high ponytail. Christian had taken off his shoes and socks and his shirt. They looked odd, very mean and angry. The girl on the floor, Martina, Mia thought, kept her head down, as if she was afraid to look at them. Elena went to her and began to braid her hair, starting the work before handing over to Christian to finish. Mia knew he was good at braiding hair because he sometimes did hers.
The girl made no move to cover herself and Mia felt herself getting warm and tingly, down there, watching her. Then Christian seemed to ask her to stand up. He took the scarf from the holder that Elena had always had on the wall and tied her hands together in front of her body, and then to a ring itself. Mia had often looked at that scarf and ring and thought how pretty it was but how strange that it was so high on the wall. Now the girl was almost suspended from it she wondered if she had misunderstood what it was for.
From the tall, ornate chest of drawers that stood against the wall, Elena removed out some items to lay on the bed. From where she stood, Mia could make out a long stick, something that looked like a short whip and a feather. She went back to the drawer to take out something else and Mia saw her hand Christian a bottle. He quickly poured liquid from the bottle onto his hand and passed it back to Elena as he rubbed his hands together.
Mia was dumbstruck when Christian approached the girl and began to rub her body with oil. The girl writhed on the ring, her hips thrusting forward as he touched her. Without warning, he smacked her hard and then leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Mia jumped with the shock of the slap and then noticed the girl nod and make her body very still. He tried again to rub her and once again she moved. Mia wasn't surprised, she felt herself wanting to move, too. Then the slap came again, as a sharp retort that she heard through the closed window. The girl's body sagged a little, he must have hurt her.
Watching was making Mia feel both sick and warm. She didn't know what her body was reacting to but the pattern of rubbing and writhing, smacking and whispering was bringing such a warmth between her legs and she ached to touch herself there. Just as she was about to place her hand between her legs, Christian placed his hand inside the girl's panties and began to rub back and forth. Mia felt short of breath as her own blood pulsed. Meanwhile Elena just stood and watched.
He left his hand between the girl's legs as he pulled her panties down her legs, kissing her all the way. Mia looked away, not wanting to see her brother do those things. After a while she looked back, just in time to see him reach back and take the whip from Elena's outstretched hand. The whip was nothing like anything she had ever seen before, and as Christian gently pulled it back and forth across the skin of the girl's back, she could see that it was like lots of soft whips attached to the stick. As she wondered about what it was called, he began to hit the girl with the soft tendrils, criss-crossing her skin in a careful pattern.
The girl jumped with each lick of the whip and Mia became concerned that Christian was hurting her. After a while, he stopped hitting her and passed the apparatus back to Elena, who then handed him the stick. Mia felt the horror rising in her throat. Until now, she had thought she was the sick one for watching them playing like this. Now, she wanted to look away from what she knew he was about to do but found she couldn't. She was the rabbit caught in the headlights and as the first strike of the cane marked the girl's pale skin with a vicious welt, the girl screamed and Mia cried.
Seattle, Thursday, June 16, 2011
Elena drags me through the room towards a door marked 'private' on the other side. We step through and walk across a small space to an elevator. Once inside, we descend two levels. Anger radiates off her in waves but she says nothing. So I wait silently beside her as we descend into the bowels of Club Orpheus. When the doors open we are faced with a plush reception area that is swathed in a rich aubergine suede from the square shaped sofas to the cushioned walls. The ceilings are draped in swathes of sheer black fabric, complementing and contrasting with the highly glossed finish of the reception desk. There are two sentries guarding the doors, even though there is no one coming and going, their well-cut suits screaming affluence. A very professionally attired, stunningly beautiful red head mans the reception desk. She rises gracefully and greets us with a smile.
"Good evening, Mrs Lincoln. Your room is waiting for you, no. 21. If you would swipe your card here please."
Elena swipes a black credit card through a machine and then presses her thumb against a small screen. A light in the corner turns green. I look over the shoulder of the young woman for the technology that runs this system but there is nothing else on the desk, just an old-fashioned phone that is actually wired into the wall.
Red turns to the wall behind her and slides open a floor to ceiling door. Once more, I'm disappointed to see no tech, just a bank of safety deposit boxes. She presses a code and one pops out. She removes it and then turns to place it on the desk in front of us. Elena, doesn't hesitate to place her clutch purse into the container. Then she looks at me with her hand out.
"Your phone, Mia." I hesitate for a second before pulling my phone out of the cup of my bodice. I check it before giving it to her. No signal. Yep, Orpheus is a big dead zone.
Elena takes it and places it in the box and then the redhead puts the box firmly back in its slot in the wall. The card reader flashes up the number 21 in front of us.
"There is no wireless technology in this part of the building. No photographs or videos that are not sanctioned by the club." Elena explains as we walk past the bouncers who step back almost in deference to Elena. My mind is doing overtime. How the fuck did the Morrison brothers get caught up in a blackmail scandal here if no one is allowed to take in cameras? Elliot had told Ethan that Danny and TJ were being forced to provide photographs of my family to their blackmailer after they had been filmed in one of the Orpheus play rooms. Danny had been gang-raped that night and TJ forced to watch. All roads lead back to a mysterious, Jack, who we suspect is the same douchbag boss who just got fired from SIP the other day for sexually harassing Ana. I felt an involuntary shiver go down my spine. There is no way, given what I've just gone through, that Jack would have managed to get photos of Danny Morrison's rape without Club approval.
"So, who runs the Club?" I try to keep my question as innocuous as possible. If you look at the licences and titles on this complex, everything is owned by a business called GraphiX, a corporation that owns a number of similar venues across the country. There are legitimate business premises for GraphiX that appear to be above board. However, the money trail tends to do some interesting things when you look below the surface and those flags tell us that suspected Bratva have a significant, if not controlling interest in some of the GraphiX venues. I know most of the structure but I'm interested to see what Elena knows or what she's prepared to tell me.
"An external events company is contracted to manage the entire complex. This club has its own private collective, a committee of long term members who set the membership fees and approve activities."
"And you're on this committee?"
She stops for a moment, turning to regard me. "I am represented."
The long dimly lit corridor, with all of its closed doors, feels like a trap. Antique bronze sconces throw out a low shadowy light along the black walls marking the entry to each of the doors. On the ceiling, pin spots on tracks are spaced evenly down the length of the hallway, each highlighting one of a series of white sculptures hung at eye level. As I look at them more closely, I notice that they are plaster cast vaginas and cocks, all unique and different. I've never thought about the differences between women's vaginas and men's cocks but I am totally intrigued that out of the twenty or so that hung down this corridor, not one of them is the same as any other. I wonder if they are the Orpheus version of a membership honour roll. Perhaps I can id Farad by his dick.
We arrive at room 21 and walk into a small but beautifully appointed entry foyer. There's a chaise and a stunning liquid abstract hanging above it. Very welcoming in an odd sort of way. To the left is a set of stairs that lead up to a viewing booth that is a tech geek's wet dream - a sound desk, video editing suite, lighting desk and something that looks like it could be hospital monitoring equipment. That explains the 'how' of the video but not the 'who'. We bypass the viewing room and go through a second set of doors into a cavernous space. Around the room is a variety of equipment that I recognize and which, quite frankly, scares the crap out of me. Dominating the room is a large four poster bed that is angled, with the head slightly higher than the base. I have a slippery vision of satin sheets and a lot of gravity that almost makes me want to giggle but I hold it back. There are no sheets. The mattress is leather. I suppose it makes it easier to clean. There is probably a cupboard full of industrial strength disinfectant spray and wipe somewhere near by. The walls and ceilings are covered with racks and equipment - St Andrews cross, cuffs, whips, crops, suspension rigs. I know all of this in theory and have tried a lot of it out in Paris but without much intent. Jardin is designed to feel like a romp with nature, an elicit Garden of Eden. It is raw and animalistic, especially when it is filled with elite forces alphas, leading every scene. This feels calm, sensual but a little…clinical, for all of the plush furnishing and rich colours. If Jardin was a place to play and imagine, then this is a place for discipline and control. I fully expect a Count Dracula type to come swooping in and lock me in a coffin.
I move to the middle of the space, slowly circling on the spot, taking everything in when I come to a sudden halt. Sitting in a reading chair, in the corner is Isaac, Elena's current partner, reading Dostoevsky by lamp light. He wears black jeans, a white shirt unbuttoned and bare feet, his reading glasses perched on his nose. It's such a cliche that the giggles are no longer containable.
Isaac smiles and looks ready to greet me but Elena walks into the middle of the room and snaps her fingers. Immediately Issac is on his feet. He walks into the center of the room where she is standing and drops to the floor at her feet his head bowed and his hands on his knees. Isaac is a big man, tall and well built. There is a quiet air of confidence about him that makes him very attractive. He's in his thirties, older than me but younger than Elena. To see him bow before her should not be surprising but there is a quiet beauty in the way that he submits to her. I could easily do what he has done but I'm not sure I would be any where near as convincing.
"Mia. Behind you is the viewing room. I want you to go in there and watch the scene. You are not to leave there under any circumstances no matter what you see. Do you understand?" I nod, and turn to leave the room. Part of me is hoping that I can just shut my eyes through her damn scene but I know I have to learn.
After a quick inspection of the viewing room, because let's face it, I'm a geek at heart, I move to the space in front of the tech desk and settle into a comfortable chair to watch the show. What occurs over the next hour is mind blowing and not at all what I expected. Elena, who I have always seen as cold and hard, treats Isaac with an uncommon kindness. Even while inflicting pain, there is this incredible level of trust between the two of them. I have no doubts that he is pushed to his sensory limits, the evidence clearly imprinted on his skin but Elena appears to be astutely aware of his state of mind. There are times when he is begging for more but she pulls back and changes direction. She seems to know what he needs better than he does. Ethan and I have never actually done a full scene together. The thought of placing my body and mind into his care both chills and excites me. I'm just not sure how long it would take for my mind to get in the way.
I'm challenged not to notice how deeply aroused Isaac is and several times I think that Elena is going to draw an orgasm from him but there is no touching. Not like that. Every touch is through the cane or the flogger. Nothing overtly sexual. Perhaps she never intends to share that with me and I have to admit, I'd be eternally grateful if she didn't. Regardless, my body tells me I am watching foreplay even when my mind and eyes are discounting it. As the scene progresses, Isaac goes deeper into what is undoubtedly a pheromone induced trance. Subspace. I'm jealous. I could never get out of my head with my trainers in Paris. No matter how good their skills were, I was always the brat, unable to shut my smart mouth or I would turn my responses into some coquettish flirtation. They were as immune to my charms as I was to theirs. Not for the first time since Ethan brought up my lack of skills, I wonder if Rory Jensen is already casting around for someone who can go deep cover at Orpheus and be more convincing.
After an hour, Elena stops the scene and walks over to the phone on the wall. Within moments the young woman from reception arrives in the viewing room beside me.
"Miss Grey. Mrs Lincoln has requested that I escort you to the bar. She has asked you to wait for her there. She won't be long." The girl never looks through the one way glass at Elena and Isaac. I'm grateful for that as well and hoping like hell that the flush of heat I can feel isn't visible on my skin.
Happy for the distraction of the bar, I don't want to imagine what Elena and Isaac are doing right now. There are no other patrons and still no visible movement in and out of the corridors that lead to the scene rooms. Unlike Jardin, there doesn't appear to be a central demonstration space. That seemed a little odd. Instead, the bar looks like any other upmarket drinking hole and the lone barman is busy pouring me a gin and tonic. It confirms Elena's assertion that that we would be alone until the slave auction is complete. Another small thing to be grateful to her for. The list is getting alarmingly long.
"Will there be anything else, Miss Grey?" The barman's accent cuts through my thoughts, bringing me back to the room. I smile and shake my head. No smile in return. So customer service is not high on the club's list of priorities. Either that or their staff training program sucks. "If you'll excuse me."
The barman disappears out the back. I listen for some noise and hear the distinct sound of a game on a television. My guess would be soccer. Instead of waiting for Elena, I decide to go for a little wander down one of the corridors. If someone asks me what I'm doing I'll make out that I'm looking for the bathroom and given the state of this suit I figure no one will suspect if I take a little longer than usual.
When I'm sure the coast is clear I walk back down the corridor listening for the telltale hum of a server room. It doesn't take long to locate what I'm looking for - a low even noise and a cool door. I quickly pick the lock and moved inside the air-conditioned room. There's nowhere on this costume that I could store any equipment so I have to go old school and hack into the server. Luckily, whoever set up the security wasn't very sophisticated and it doesn't take too long to get to where I need in the machine. Once there, I attempt to set up a hidden process to copy data across to a remote server whenever the system runs a back up. This way we would get updated data on membership and video surveillance at the end of every day. Only, there is no way to remotely access this server. No cabled network, not even an old-fashioned modem or router. My only choice is to copy what I can onto my… Fuck! My phone is in locked storage out the front. I open the current members list, which is all encrypted. Jesus, who are these people?
There is nothing I can do. Elena made sure that I had no room to smuggle anything into the club with me that is larger than a dime. Luckily, I had the forethought to wear the lilac necklace that Ethan gave me. I snap open the false back and remove the sd card hidden there. There's limited space, but at least I can get the membership lists and maybe some accounting history. When I look at the files for the sign in system, they are too big to get more than a two week's worth of data. Right now, I'll take what I can get. While the data dump is being completed, I partition off a section of the hard drive and program in a process that will run in the background each day, backing up the system into a secure space that only I will be able to access. I'll just have to find another opportunity to get in here with something bigger than a 60Gb card.
I'm back in the bar before Elena and Issac arrive back from whatever they were doing. This time Isaac is in a very stylish suit, looking every inch the businessman. He smiles when he sees me.
"Mimi, how are you, my darling?" Isaac still has the hint of an accent even though he's been in Seattle for the last fifteen years. He's of Russian Jewish descent but raised in Israel by his Russian grandparents. His fluency in several languages are his bread and butter as an independent immigration consultant. I really like him and I have often wondered what he is doing with someone like Elena. However, the scene I just witnessed has given me a very different picture of their relationship dynamic and when I look at Elena, I wonder if she doesn't need Isaac as much as he needs her. And what the hell my brother still has to do with all of this.
"Isaac, it is good to see you. I missed you at the house earlier." Elena and I had had dinner at her house and then prepared for the evening. She said that Isaac was held up and would meet us at the club later. Another small gift for which I was grateful, and I now wondered if Elena had orchestrated that, as well.
"Yes, a client needing some urgent advice. I apologize. You know I would never blow off dinner with my best girl." His broad smile sparkles behind his eyes. The age gap is small but he acts like he is already my benevolent stepfather. I wonder how much he knows about my relationship with Elena. "So tell me, did you find our scene…informative."
"I am almost embarrassed to talk about it but yes, it was not what I expected." My admiration in this moment is genuine.
Taking my hands he drags me down to a couch as Elena, strangely confined, sits in a winged chair across from us. She chooses to observe as Isaac takes charge of the conversation. "Now tell me, in what way was it unexpected?"
I pause, gathering my thoughts. "I didn't expect to see that level of…care. The scenes that I had witnessed in Paris were often overtly sexual and sometimes almost violently playful. I sensed something else between you. Some stronger emotion."
To my surprise, they looked at each other with warmth. I have never really seen that from Elena. She looks at Christian like she owns him, not like she loves or even wants him. With Isaac there is a depth. I hesitate to call it love, even in my head. Isaac on the other hand is easy to read. His heart is on his sleeve and whatever the physical side of their relationship might be, he is deeply in love with her. A little kernel of hope sows its seed in me but when I look at her again, her eyes are cold and she turns away.
"What you saw is a deep respect and trust for what we offer each other. Elena and I have particular needs but we both know how to care for those needs on each other's behalf." Oh my friend, you have it bad. Perhaps, it is the emotional aftermath of the scene. "For me to have those needs fulfilled, I have to trust Elena completely, and I do."
He reaches over and takes Elena's hand. For a fleeting second the emotion reaches her eyes and then it is gone again.
"Can I ask something personal?"
"My sweet, you have seen us at our most vulnerable. I think you know that you can ask us anything."
"Is it the only way that you can have a sexual relationship? Is there nothing vanilla?" He looks a little startled by the question but not offended.
"Our sexual relationship is decidedly vanilla. We enjoy our play regularly and it can lead to sex but it is not the only way for us."
"Isaac. I am not sure we need to talk about this. She is here to be trained as a sub. She doesn't need to know the sordid details."
"She is here to learn about the lifestyle. How can she learn if she doesn't hear about the nuances? There are so many misconceptions it would be unfortunate if we didn't reveal the less sordid details." There is some sort of standoff going on here that has nothing to do with me. Once more I wonder about the fact that Isaac is doing all of the talking. Elena is not known for her retiring nature.
"So tonight was not about sex?" I wonder about what happened after I left the room. I had simply assumed that they had done the deed and then come to join me in the bar.
"Not at all. What did you see when you watched me?"
"You seemed to respond positively to Elena's attentions." I think back at the use of the flogger and the cat. She had worked up and down his body, never hitting the same point twice, deadly accurate but firm. But what had I seen in him. "You seemed to be feeling the pain for a long time and then something changed. You went from intense to serene. Like you were in a state of meditation."
"You are very observant. That is exactly right."
"Do you have a more intense sexual experience with subspace?"
"Sometimes. The longer we have been together, the less we need the sexual experience at all." This I had not expected and Elena looks decidedly uncomfortable. "Subspace is exactly as you say, a trance. A meditative state. It is blissful and addictive. It does however preclude sex. It is impossible to orgasm when in subspace and quite frankly it is unnecessary. The chemical release in the brain is more than enough."
"So when I left the room tonight…"
"Elena stayed with me to assist me to come back to consciousness. As my dominant, she has a certain patience that is necessary and a responsibility to see that I emerge from such an experience unscathed." Once more I am completely confused. This is not the Elena I assumed I knew and I can see from her body language that it is not what she wants me see. I think back to what I saw the night I followed Christian and saw him in a scene with Elena. He did not look anything like Isaac. There was no love there. Respect, yes, but not the look I see in this man's eyes.
"Thank you Isaac. Thank you for your honesty."
"You are welcome, darling girl. Now I must go back and retrieve my book. It is a first edition, I would hate to lose it." He stands to leave but leans over Elena, planting a gentle kiss on her head. It almost elicits a smile from her. "I will see you at home, my love."
I stand, allowing him to hug me goodbye. His hand reaches out and touches the flower of my necklace with a frown. "So delicate, so beautiful. A lilac, no? Siren', how…apt." Then he looks directly in my eyes, his own now a feral black obsidian. I respond with the requisite shiver of fear that travels down my spine. "A little out of place with this costume, little one."
Finally, he drops it carefully back to my chest, his eyes now sad and disappointed. When he steps away, my hand immediately goes to the pendant to reassure myself it is still there. The knowledge that it is causes me to almost choke on my own fear.
After he leaves, Elena leans back in the chair, her legs cross, her hands clasped in front of her face. All elegance and refinement once more. Her stare radiates curiosity and I begin the internal process of crumbling under her regard, my body still shaking from that last interaction with Isaac.
"Are you going to tell me why you want this? Why you are trying to make me believe you're attracted to this lifestyle?"
"What makes you so sure I am not interested in the lifestyle?" I'm getting kind of pissed that she sees herself as the guardian of kink.
The old Elena returns with all the lack of emotion I have come to expect.
"You are not cut out for it. When that dom at the bar had you pinned, you were ready to stand up to him. You don't have what it takes to be a domme yourself but you certainly don't have the humility to be a submissive either. You're still too flighty, too strong willed. More importantly you don't trust."
"What do you expect, Mother? At what stage, did you or my parents instil trust in me?"
She smirks at me. "See, no humility. Who is he?"
"I beg your pardon?" I'm glad she didn't pick up on my words. These walls, undoubtedly, have ears and I'm not in the market for having my family secrets spread through the club.
"Do me the courtesy of not treating me like I arrived on the last boat. You are not submissive, nor are you a pain junkie. You might just be curious but I believe that the only reason why you would be wanting this for yourself is because you have fallen for some man or you've read a book that piqued your interest. Since you don't read, I'm assuming that you have fallen in love with this mystery master. This isn't a game Mia. This isn't one of your little whims or some romance novel. If he wants you to be submissive then you are going to have to commit, and you, my dear, have never committed to anything in your self-serving, over-privileged life. So I will ask you once again. Who is he?"
I hesitate just long enough for her to jump to conclusions with two big feet and a giant trampoline.
"It's him, isn't it?" She swirls her olives around the inside of her glass for a moment before looking at me for confirmation. "The dom at the bar."
"I don't…" Schooling my features, I feign confusion while watching her take the bait. When the hook is set, she reels herself in.
"It was obvious what he is, but what does he want with you?" Bitch!
"You think I can't attract a dom's interest? He was ready to buy me on the spot. You saw him."
"I think you're playing with fire. If he's buying at the next auction then he's going to want something special. He was testing you and you salivating after him just dropped up the price." Elena has no idea how much that would be a good thing and I'm not of a mind to tell her.
"You were the one who took me off the market. Don't you think I can be special enough? Are you worried about my skills as a sub or yours as a trainer?"
"I think you're a naive little girl who will get her fingers burnt."
"Then, you had better make sure that I'm ready." Leaning in toward her, I pick the olive out of her martini and suck on it hoping like hell that I don't catch some sort of bitch troll virus.
"What is his name?"
"I'm not telling you any more about him until I have a guarantee that you will train me."
"You think I can't find out?"
"I know you can. But you won't find out from me. Call him. He's looking for a membership sponsor." The salty bite of the olives gives me just enough edge not to cave and tell her more than she needs to know. Sooner or later, she's going to see us at some family function or another. She'll connect him to the Kavanagh Media family and then we'll have to hope we can convince her that we're committed to the lifestyle enough to maintain Club membership. In the meantime, the less she knows, the better.
"Perhaps, I will." She studies the card a moment longer then tucks it away under her bra strap once more. I shudder at the thought she has anything of Ethan's so close to her cold, cold heart. Between the interaction with Isaac and now this with her, I wonder, for the first time, if she's not right. Maybe I'm completely out of my depth.
"Does that mean you will train me?" She stands but doesn't reply. I follow her out to the reception area where Red quickly signs us out and returns our personal items. Elena still hasn't spoken by the time we are escorted back upstairs on the lift by one of the Armani bouncers. It's all very cloak and dagger when she tells the guard dog that she will escort me out. Instead of going back through the Burlesque club, we walk straight outside into the cool evening. Another bouncer is standing next to a cab with the coat and bag I had checked at the main entrance when we first arrived. Fuck! It all become very clear to me that I'm being dismissed and Elena is not going to help me. Then she leans into the cab and hands me a piece of paper.
"This is for you. Go away. Do some work. I will talk to you in a few days." The piece of paper she places in my hands has been folded in quarters and worried a bit, from the look of the frayed edges. When I open it, I see a list of videos and books. "I will set up some appointments for you in the next two weeks. Make yourself available."
I'm about to ask about training at the club but she slams the door before I can get the words out and taps on the roof of the car, dismissing me into the night, leaving me to stew on whether I have succeeded or failed.
A/N: Welcome to a Revised 2016 Chapter. Please read and review.
This chapter differs a little from the previous version. First, the technology, layout and colour scheme of Orpheus has changed. The original didn't have Orpheus as a dead zone. Just building that issue into the location will make it all the more dangerous for everyone as the story progresses and it reinforces the need for Mia to go back into the club. One day I will have to draw the schematics of Sirens so that I can express my vision for what the building looks like. The interaction with Isaac is a little more sinister, leaving a few doubts as to what his intentions are. Also, the ending conversation with Elena doesn't confirm yet whether Mia will ever be able to get back into Orpheus under her instruction.
Hope you enjoyed it. Sasha xxx