Definitely worse than what she wore. “Why’d you throw away my things?”
“You only have enough to pay for the makeup.”
“Says who?” She got in his face since he wasn’t going anywhere. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s in the handbook.”
“I won’t. It’s store rules.” He pointed.
A large poster stated servers had to use their tokens for makeup first, toiletries next, food and water last. No exceptions. Beneath it was a smiley face and We Appreciate Your Business! Come Again!
She ripped the corner on her way out and tied her bag around her wrist.
Demons lounged against the store eating candy bars in every variety, chips in numerous flavors, and fried pork rinds.
She hoped they’d stroke out from the junk.
One licked chocolate off his lips and winked. “Want a bite?” He waved his candy bar, the semi-sweet kind, her fave.
Her stomach rumbled.
Another server walked by, a curvy girl with strawberry-blonde ringlets and flushed cheeks. Megan had seen her speaking to Katie at the pay station. “Wait.” She grabbed the young woman’s wrist and inclined her head to the demons munching away. “Do they always flaunt their food like that?”
“Not since I’ve been here.” She had a Midwestern twang. “I arrived in 1868. This is the first time I’ve seen any demon behave as they are.”
Just as Megan thought and raised her face to wherever the cameras and microphones were. “You can’t tempt or trick me, no matter what you do. I’m on to you guys. That means you Andros, Vespar, and Racan.”
Nothing.
They were either busy taunting new arrivals or giving her the cold shoulder. So be it. She spoke to the demons. “Wow, you dudes are brave.”
They exchanged glances. The one with the most tats and a ragged gash in his cheek narrowed his eyes. “How so?”
“Eating that stuff.” She gestured to their treats. “It’s a well-known fact chocolate, salt, and saturated fat shrinks a guy’s balls. Those in charge here will tell you otherwise so they can service the babes. A real bonus for them. Like I said, you guys have guts to spare, putting that in your stomachs.” She whistled.
They stopped chewing. The one who’d offered her a bite glared. “You’re fucking lying.”
“Keep eating and you’ll find out. It’s as simple as that. But hey, even without fucking to look forward to, you still have your work in the mines and other nasty places to keep you busy. Enjoy your meals.”
Mr. Gash-in-His-Cheek dropped his pork rind.
A spider as big as a Chihuahua snatched the food and crawled back into its hole.
She shivered and might have barfed but didn’t have the time. She approached a demon. He’d gone the opposite direction of the club. She wanted to know why and what was down that hall. “Hi.”
He scuffed forward, his tail dragging, shoulders hunched, and scales dried out. If she had to guess, she’d say he was hungover and dehydrated. A perfect time to get him to drop his defenses. “What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you at Hard Lust.”
His beady eyes, both bloodshot, took her in. “That’s only because you move slower than a sloth. I can’t wait forever to have a drink. Pick up some speed and I’ll give you an order.” He swatted her ass.
You lousy fucking… She clenched her jaw, but good sense warned her not to knee him. I need information. “Where you going?”
He stopped. His tail slithered around her ankle.
Its slimy chill pushed her barely digested oatmeal to her throat. She forced it back down and eased away. “I’ve only seen Hard Lust. Are there other places down here?”
“More than you can imagine.” He wiggled his sloping forehead, an area where a normal person’s eyebrows would have been. “Want a tour?”
“No time.” She tapped her wrist where she’d once worn a watch. “But I am interested in what there is to see.”
Excitement chased away his remaining malaise. “You into torture?”
She gave him the same put-on smile she did other patrons at the club. “You mean BDSM in Hard Lust?”
“That’s pussy shit. I’m talking the real deal.”
She recognized him now. He was the dude Giselle had gotten down with in the stadium. Crap.
Thankfully, the hall behind Megan was empty. No Giselle and her psycho jealous streak anywhere around.
A siren blared.
She jumped. “What the fuck is that?”
“Your downtime is over. Better hurry back.” He swatted her again.
Repelled, she edged back. “Before I go, how do I get to the other circles?” She might have better luck in Greed, her tokens buying her some answers.
His tail snaked between his legs and wound around his pendulous balls, also scaled. “Why would you want to leave here?”
You, for one. “Just wanting to see everything this place has to offer. Nice talking to you. Bye.”
Before he could say anything, she bolted down the hall toward Hard Lust, her options dwindling by the minute. Earning a mere seven tokens a week didn’t give her much leverage for a bribe. To entice someone to help her, she’d need at least ninety tokens, constituting a full week’s work for the demons. That might capture someone’s attention in Greed.
However, it would take her months to earn that much. In that period, she’d need more toiletries, makeup, and would increasingly crave food and water.
Her throat had never been as parched.
Sweating from her run wasn’t helping, nor was the stifling temperature in here. The hall and club didn’t have air-conditioning like the office.
Shit. The constant problems here were too similar to what she’d experienced on Earth when she’d tried to juggle rent increases, escalating utility and food prices, tuition for school, and Holly’s medical expenses, all on minimum wage plus tips.
Those dark times had been pure awful. This was worse. It would never end unless she did something to change things.
She’d reached Hard Lust.
Andros, Vespar, and Racan turned their backs to her and ducked into the office.
Her face burned. How easily they’d left her alone, deprived, and feeling like the world’s biggest fool for having enjoyed her time with them and wanting more. Which they wouldn’t give.
Her mouth trembled, her vision clouded, and a whimper rose to her throat.
Stop it. I’m better than this.