Page 1 of The Blood Debt

CHAPTER ONE

They isolated them in a basement room. It was nicely kept with fine furnishings and fabrics, but it was a brutal room. The walls were dark enamel with glass and chrome. The floors were covered in thick red carpeting interrupted from time to time with a section of marble tile. Tile was easier to clean; one of the wolves joked. Blood was difficult to get out of carpet.

Bram had arrived three days ago and was still struggling to learn the rules; failure to learn and abide by the rules was a painful prospect. He had a split lip, bruises on his stomach and back, and a variety of abrasions. Breaking the rules was punished, and according to the other three in the basement with him, it progressively got worse, so it was wise to pay attention, learn the rules, and stay quiet.

They were all shifters of the more docile variety; the three with Bram were a cat shifter and two fox shifters who were brothers. He hadn't learned much else about them; it seemed better not to get involved, and they seemed to feel the same. It was a rough and humiliating existence being at the mercy of Seb Orlov, one of the underbosses of the Insky Wolf syndicate. Orlov owned them, and the man had no mercy. He was a large, scarred wolf, hateful and cruel.

Orlov paraded them about like trophies, but cheap trophies used for shock value and to show off his power and control. So far, Bram and the other toys, as they were referred to, had gone to a club meeting where they were dehumanized and used as debauched entertainment, and they accompanied him to a seedy bar in the darker part of town.

The fox brothers were loaned to the owner of the bar for the evening in exchange for free drinks. He'd felt bad for them at first, but they really seemed to get off on it. The foxes gave that man a night to remember. Bram had to spend last night in Orlov's bedroom; thankfully, the lights were out. It was not fun, although Orlov seemed to enjoy it, especially when he used his whip and when he was biting. The man liked to bite.

Tonight, they were all going to the Blood Rose, a vampire-owned club downtown. It was more exclusive, so Orlov would want to put on a show of submissive theater. It was going to be a long, unpleasant night, but this was his life for now until either his debt was paid or he found a way out. Word was that toys did not survive long within the Syndicate, and he surely hoped that death was not going to be his way out.

***

Daley had just finished patrols on the dockside, and he was on his way to his quarters when Drakon caught up with him in the hallway. "Daley." He stated, and instantly Daley stopped and gave him his complete attention.

"Yes, sir." He said and waited. Daley Reynolds served directly under Drakon as one of his Enforcers. He had been looking forward to dinner and maybe some cards and perhaps an early night, but that didn't look like it was going to happen.

“We need staff for the Blood Rose tonight.” He said and thought about what lay ahead. He avoided the Blood Rose due to the crowds and noise and the forced socialization. He hated working the Blood Rose; he was not a social person, but everyone took their turn, or so he was told.

"I know it's not your first choice for assignment, but we're shorthanded, and you're a good bartender." Daley nodded, making sure none of his displeasure showed on his face. "Report to Rex at eight and dress accordingly; the customers expect a lot of leather and a lot of skin." He smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Yes, sir. No problem." He stood there and watched Drakon disappear around the corner, then closed his eyes and let his head roll back and forth on his shoulders. A couple of deep breaths, and he continued to his quarters. He had time for a bath and to find a salacious outfit but no time for much else.

He hadn’t worked the Blood Rose in almost a year, and it had been a very good year. Maybe after tonight he wouldn’t be called back for another year. He really disliked people and crowds, and the Blood Rose served up both. He never should have taken that bartending course way back when he thought he might like working the Blood Rose.

He found out pretty quick how much the place didn't suit him, but now everyone knew he had a certificate in bartending. That was the stupidest thing he ever did. Oh well, maybe there would be a fight, and maybe he would get to kill someone, which would brighten the evening.

He did look damn good in leather, and the way some of the clientele looked at him was gratifying. Might as well look at the bright side: he could get laid repeatedly; it had happened for him before. Those were good memories, going from one hot body to another, racking up a body count of over fifteen in a single evening. Yeah, those were the good times.

It was nearing ten, and he'd been at it behind the bar for two hours, and he hated it, absolutely hated it. The crowd was the usual upper-middle-class business types and a few elites filling the main room. There were some young ones looking to connect or just looking for a good time.

Daley wore his Italian leather pants, soft as silk and molded to every curve and muscle; he looked like everyone's wet dream, and he knew it. The looks he garnered were priceless and hungry. He didn't wear a shirt, instead opting for his bare chest and the opportunity to showcase his tone and muscles. The tips had been impressive, and the propositions had been numerous, although he had not been tempted yet.

"Take a break, Daley," Rex said as he came up beside him. "It has slowed down for now, but it will be picking up again around midnight." Daley nodded and headed to the end of the bar, planning to go out back and get some air. The alley off the back office was a good place to be alone for a minute or two. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it as soon as he opened the back door and stepped into the dark alley.

He closed his eyes and took several long drags off the cigarette, blowing it out through his nose and feeling the relaxing effects. The silence was truly golden until suddenly the quiet was broken by the sound of people moving down the alley to the side door of the Club.

He glanced over and saw a big wolf and four small shifters. He couldn’t make out what species from this distance, but they looked like some sort of BDSM cosplay group. The wolf had four leashes, and the little shifters all wore collars. He was leading them, or rather dragging and jerking them. The man didn't appear pleased, but that was not Daley's problem unless he brought that attitude into the club. Whatever he did with his little submissives was his own business.

Daley was so focused on the group of shifters that he was taken by surprise when Gabriel came up to stand beside him. “How’s your night?” He asked with a knowing grin. Daley turned his head slowly and raised an eyebrow.

"How do you think it's going?" He shot back. He took another drag on his cigarette and then pinched it out and tossed it into the dumpster beside him.

“I bet you’re pretty popular in that outfit.” Gabriel smiled. "Looking all bare-chested and manly." He laughed when Daley punched his arm.

"Keep it up, and I'll punch more than your arm, asshole." Daley retorted without any heat.

“What were you looking at so intently?” He asked when Daley turned back to check on the group of shifters, but they had disappeared and were probably inside now.

“Some poser walking down the alley, leading four small shifters on leashes. He smelled like wolf.”

"Yeah, I saw them get out of their car," Gabriel told him. "That poser is Seb Orlov of the Insky Syndicate. He's one of the underbosses, and he likes to play the dominant with his toys."

“It’s not hard to dominate men less than half your size and who are collared. He should try collaring someone his own size and see how easy it is.” Daley was suddenly angry at Seb Orlov, and he shouldn't give a shit about the guy or the little shifters with him. Not my business, he told himself, and turned back to Gabriel.

"The shifters with him are a cat, two foxes, and a bunny rabbit," Gabriel commented. "I was close enough to scent them. The two guards with him had hungry looks on their faces, so I don't think he's keeping them all for himself."