The First Age

Following a hell of a few weeks’ worth of work, Ryker was hell-bent on enjoying a damn night for himself. He was in such a good mood, he contemplated asking Marcus to join him, but he soon realized what a crack-brain idea that was and thought better of it.

Kallisti House of Burlesque was a famous attraction, particularly among the powerful lowlives that a ghost like Ryker typically haunted, but this was his first visit. He sauntered into the House and opened the kind of tab that said he was willing to drop a shit ton of money.

“Tell your girls, the more handsy the better.” He dropped a card with a glare that said he expected every dollar to be worth it.

He was dressed fine enough for the place. A shirt, open at the collar, revealed some of the burns that traced down his neck and disappeared inside. The jacket over the top fit him well, but that was the only notable thing about it. He had a pocket knife hidden inside it, but he did not anticipate needing to draw it anytime soon.

He was shown to a table by a woman in red bustier who apparently got the message from the front staff that Ryker liked (and was willing to buy) attention. She took his order while curving her arm around his shoulders and massaging the muscles she found there. Only once did he notice her dark gaze linger on his facial scars. To her credit, they did not linger long.

She left to retrieve his drink while he watched the show.

Elyse danced and it was freeing. Lost in the moment it took her a bit to realize that the floor was relatively empty of other entertainers. Several still paid attention to the clientele, but it was lower than normal. As Elyse spun, she say Mae and man of the other dancers watching her off stage. Elyse smiled. She even spotted Nox in the crowd, paying attention. They wanted her to do well.

All the fear, anxiety, anger, and sadness melted away. This transferred into her dance as she reached the climax of the story. A lone wolf had found her pack. She had found a home even if it wasn’t the home she had expected.

The song came to an end and Elyse finished her dance, and faced the crowd, she received their applause with a bow and a blown kiss before heading off stage. Mae was the first she found and wrapped her in a hug as tears of joy started to fall.

”Thank you for this. I’m home now.”

Mae hugged Elyse back and pulled away shortly after and wiped the tears. "No time for tears darling. We have some mingling to do."

Mae wrapped her blue boa around her neck and the next girl took the stage. There was plenty of people in the crowd. Some Mae knew, others she had glimpsed before, but most weren't regulars. "I'll stay with you. But we need to pick a table and mingle. I'll let you choose. I don't suggest the rough looking handsome man with scars tonight, he's throwing money around for handsy. Don't think you'll have to worry, as your ex is on eagle eye, but he's easily distracted. But he still can't touch you but we can touch him freely for extra tips."

Elyse smiled. ”of course!” taking a deep breath that did wonderful things to her chest.

Elyse began to look, her heart pounding in her chest. It wasn’t nerves, but excitement. Her adrenaline was still high from her performance on stage. Elyse spotted the person Mist had referred to. Amongst the myriad of scents in the club, Elyse couldn’t distinguish individual scents from this distance, and Elyse decided to take Mist’s advice.

She saw another man with longer blonde hair, seemingly more shy, holding a flute of champagne. Elyse led Mist in his direction.

”Hello,” she said with an alluring smile, golden eyes shining. ”Would you care for some extra company?”

Seven slipped his wallet into his pocket when the ladies approached. His greeting was warm with a smile that lit his eyes.

He was seated with one leg crossed over the other. There was nothing untoward about his study, but he appreciated many beautiful things in this world, and the two women who joined him were among them. The dancer, however, earned the majority of his attention. For her, he tapped his glass with a gentle tap of his hand in mimic of applause.

“You are a magnificent dancer, miss—?” his brows climbed with the question unanswered. He likewise gestured that it would make him most happy if the two women joined his table.

He smiled at the exotic, blue-haired girl, but it was the dancer’s eyes that held his captive.

Mae followed Elyse's lead and took a seat when offered. She sat the opposite side of their customer and let Elyse have the side closest to him. She was here as support more than anything. She was helping her get the feel of it before she moved on to her own clients, and her own little show. The man with the scars was approached by Juls who was well versed in men who were handsy. Mae watched the guards flaking the place watch him, and watch her while not watching. Everyone was safe. That's what mattered.

---

Juls wore her signature oranges and reds with her illusion of flames encircling her with her feather boa at its center. It was all about the fire. Her bright red lipstick and nails all part of the show. Tonight a bit money player wanted attention. So attention she would give.

She smiled as she tapped his arm with her fingers, walking them from his wrist to his shoulder as she walked behind him and draped her arm over his shoulder as she leaned down to whisper in his ear as she set his drink on the table in front of him. "Which of the seven deadly sins are your favorite, милый*?"

[[ *милый = sweetheart ]]

Elyse smiled at the man as he applauded with his glass. His voice, Elyse thought his accent sounded Swedish, reminded her of Denmark. ”Kaylee, and this is Mist,” she said, giving her stage name. Hearing it for the first time since she had started performing felt good.

She walked around, lightly brushing the man’s shoulder with her finger as she moved behind him. She moved the chair slightly closer to the man and sat down. Mist had sat across from the patron, allowing Elyse to take the lead. After all, this was her show at this time.

She crossed her leg as she sat, thinking again internally how strange it was that she was here. Still, despite her walking around in lingerie and talking to a complete stranger, Elyse felt like she was home. This felt more natural to her than anything since she had found her gift.

”Thank you for your kind words. I’m glad you enjoyed!” she said, golden eyes shining.

As she spoke, she focused her scent. Being a club there were a myriad of scents, but she thought I’d she could focus, she could single out her clients scent. ”May I have the pleasure of your name?”

The graze across his shoulders was welcome. Seven watched her round his seat and unfold herself upon the adjacent one. The way she moved felt almost feline, though perhaps the sensation originated from the golden orbs that filled her eyes. He’d never seen their like, and for all his peering, he was happy to become lost in her gaze.

When he studied the exquisite design of her attire, it was with the appreciation of one admiring artistry, of beauty and expertise. Both were abundant in Kaylee. His answer to her prompt elicited the smile of one about to unearth a secret. For surely such a prize could be shared with only those that held his enigmatic favor.

Seven’s accent was Scandinavian, musical with the gentleness of his tone when he said, “Seven.” He leaned forward slightly as the sound passed his lips, hair falling across his eyes as he did. “Like the number,” he explained as he raised his glass.


((sorry for the delay. I've been sick. ))

((Also sorry for the delay!!!))

Elyse genuinely smiled. The accent reminded her of the good things at home - Kronburg Castle, the piers, and the sight and sent of The Sound separating Sweden and Denmark. Seven leaned forward slightly and Elyse - no Kaylee - leaned forward slightly mirroring im his movements.

”Seven,” she said, her voice wrapping sweetly around the name. ”Like the number.”

Kaylee got a drink from a passing waiter and clinked her glass against Seven’s upraised glass. She took a drink.

”Some say a lucky number.” Kaylee said, lowing her volume slightly. ”Tell me, Seven. Are you lucky?”

[continued from We have a gift for you]

Alistair had stepped out of the club to meet a long, blacked-out Mercedes limo. The driver, standing in a dark black suit with a slender body, had opened the door as Alistair approached. In a thick Russian accent, he had welcomed, "Geet een, Alistair." Cautiously, Alistair had gotten in, sliding along the leather. The front window to the driver had come down for just a second for the driver to say, "Mr. Petrovich's associate ees vaiting for you at Kallisti; he also vants you to enjoy yourself, so a special treat avaits." With that, the pitch-black window had rolled up.

Alistair's car had arrived at Kallisti. Alistair's guard had risen, tensed on what he had gotten into. Still new to his surroundings, his awareness had been keenly high.

As the door opened, Alistair heard a soft female Russian voice, "Meestair Beeshop, I've been ekspecting you." The driver, having opened the door, greeted Alistair with a view of a pair of long legs. Alistair slowly raised his head, taking in the sight of black high heels. As he raised his eyes further, he had absorbed the image of long legs, a dress with a deep see-through slit barely concealing anything, to a deep plunging neckline exposing a very ample bosom. As his eyes met hers, she had greeted him with a coy smile.

"I'm Nadezhda; you can call me Nadya. Come weez me," she had said, extending her hand. As they walked inside, she quietly whispered, "Mr. Petrovich vanted me to ensure you had a good time vhile you vaited to meet Anatoly." She put her arm in his. With a wink, she had added, "Make sure you teep beeg. You vill enjoy de attention from de girls eef you do." She looked up with a suggestive wink. She was one of Mr. P's main girls, hired to take care of high-end clients, giving them anything they wanted as long at it served Mr. P. and the family. 

The doors had opened to an ornate hallway with a long red carpet. Off in the distance, the faint thumping of music could be heard. It grew louder as they approached a door and, when opened, he was taken aback by where he was. This was nothing like he'd experienced in America. It was a sweet and savory concoction that had combined pure luxury with sensuality in a way Alistair had never experienced. 

She led him to a plush red couch, sat him down, and immediately turned to sit across him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She turned to look at him as she pressed into his crotch, giving him a smile as there was nothing she couldn't feel. "Do you like zat?" she had whispered in his ear. "Look around, tell me vhat else you like."

A server interrupted and came by and took their drink order. Alistair had ordered a Manhattan. She had said to give her one too. "I vant vhatever or whoever he vants," her choice of words had been purposeful. "Give her a beeg teep," she had instructed. Alistair brought out a roll of cash, not often seen.  She had snatched it from his hand and handed it to the flirty waitress. "Dear, make sure the girls treat Alistair reeght," she had said, tracing a single finger up Alistair's chin.

Alistair's guard was falling very fast.

He took in the room. Men were drinking, scantily clad women walking everywhere. A dancer was wrapping up. It only had taken a second but as soon as he had looked, her yellowing eyes had consumed Alistair. Her eyes captivated him even more so than the moves she had made. They had put him into a trance he had never felt before. It was unlike anything he had experienced as he watched her slowly slither her body into a seductive cat-like pose, barely wearing anything and seemingly ready to pounce. Yet the perfectly placed clothing had made this experience heightened. Where in the US, he would go to a strip club and have any view, touch, or position he wanted with a dancer, nothing was left to the imagination. This room was different. It felt filled with unbelievable temptation and a power he could not describe. The power had been electric, something that felt ancient. Maybe it was the plush red seating and darkly lit tones of the room framing every silhouette that had put a dense fog over his mind. Every person there was worshipped at an arm's length, for if a mere touch happened, it would send a customer into ecstasy.

Nadya could tell Alistair was engrossed in the dancer, as he was staring into open space toward the stage. She had whispered in his ear, "You like vhat you see, Alistair?" as her hand slid down his open-collar dress shirt.

"That was Kaylee. Thank you," an announcer lowly bellowed as she had left the stage; the crowd had clapped and whistled as she walked off.

Just like that, the spell was broken. Alistair had returned to his body, having left reality for what had felt like hours, though it had only been a few minutes.

Turning now to take a drink, with every sip and eye contact with a beautiful woman or seductive whisper from his host, Alistair had entirely let his guard down.

The Mafia contact was still on his way, but Alistair had essentially forgotten all about why he was there.