“Quit that.”
“Quit what?”
“Staring at me like a creep. I donotconsent.”
The fine lines around his eyes crinkled. “My apologies, miss.”
The receptionist gave up, turning on her heel and finally leading us through the next set of doors.
The hallway we passed down exposed absolutely nothing in the way ofexclusive sex club. I wanted to hate these people, but, I had to admit, I respected them for retaining the old gothic charm of the space. Everything around us oozedwealth, esotericism, and secrets. The vaulted ceilings and subtle religious iconography were soothing in a way I hadn’t been anticipating, and I realized that, for some godforsaken reason, Wes’s presence had completely distracted me from all my previous anxiety.
He is not an ally,I reminded myself.He is the enemy.
There was one question Wes hadn’t answered that I had. “How did you find this place?”
For the first time, his face drained of all humor, his pace momentarily slowing before he regained composure. “A friend.”
“Oh,” I said. “Gotcha.”
We took a creaky wooden staircase in silence.
In other words, a woman had likely told him about the super cool sex cult she was a part of, and here he was, eager to see it for himself. Maybe he had to go through whatever initiation they had planned for us before he could join her in kinky bliss.
Our handler paused before another door. Voices, soft music, and laughter floated from the other side.
“I forgot to collect this information downstairs,” she said, “but if you want to expedite the vetting process forpotentialascension to active member status, I’ll need your social media handles.”
I waited for Wes to go first.
“Nah,” he said.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped my lips.
The woman frowned.
“Guess folks will just have to get to know me through what our ancestors calledspeaking to each other like human beings.” He tilted his head slightly. “Besides, didn’t you just say The Circle prioritizes real connection over the façade of our screen-selves?”
The woman’s smile was tight. “I didn’t realize you were listening. Have a nice evening, Nova and Wes.”
She stalked off, and I hated that he’d made me laugh at a time like this. Wes, on the other hand, was staring at my lips as if captivated.
I looked away, my smile fading as I remembered my mission. I walked past him to push through the door, meet my fate, and enter The Circle.
4
NOVA
The wordorientationhad really undersold what awaited us behind that door.
Light streamed through stained glass windows across the spacious room, filtering out the harshness of the outside. Moody chandeliers hung above, their dangling crystals reflecting patterns of light on the carpets and people below.
And the people—they were all so beautiful, it was intimidating. Groups mingled next to tables of hors d'oeuvres and tiny desserts, by the bar, or on plush couches and chairs arranged in a semi-circle. The way everyone was dressed—in silk, leather, evening wear, or simple black—made me feel like I’d missed the part of the disappearing website outlining a dress code.
Then again, Wes was in jeans.
I only realized I’d halted three steps inside the room when I felt heat on my back from Wes’s body behind me.
I snapped out of my daze and moved forward, and a man in black pants and a leather chest harness approached with a platter of champagne flutes. Around his neck was a collar with a lock.
