Exhibit (6 page)

The maître d smiles at me as I do so, with a look that tells me he would be happy for me to be their next meal given the slightest opportunity.

After that, we are in, and immediately the lights, sounds, smells and chaos of a party in full swing hit us completely. Actually, it feels more like a secret city in full swing than just a party.

The place has the buzz of a Moroccan market, just with less people hassling you at every corner into buying something. Less people in general actually, because there seem to be more people doing shows than there are watching them.

Champagne and canapes come round to us on silver trays, while performers cycle through their acts while they buzz around us, close enough to touch. There are pole dancers, belly dancers, tap and tango dancers, jugglers, clowns, tightrope walkers, people setting themselves on fire, people eating fire, everything you can fucking imagine. Violet has her eyes out on stalks, as she ducks under an acrobat, side steps a stilt walker and makes way for a seven foot woman dressed in nothing but a spiked cat collar, dragging a man behind her who has been locked up in several tightly bound manacles.

All of this takes place in the main room, off of which seem to be several closed doors painted in different colors. We try one but it seems to be locked. In a separate section in front of us, a restaurant has been set up and people are eating and drinking.

We walk around, sometimes hand in hand, sometimes not. Violet is pretty much speechless, either that or she's run out of things to say already. I watch her knock back champagne like it's water, her eyes almost falling out of her head when she sees someone swallow a sword and then spit out streams of flames like they've swallowed the sun. I must admit I'm impressed too. The champagne is good, the service is excellent, the girls are hot, and the fire is real. I want to eat, and then I want to see what's behind the colored doors.

“Violet”, I say and she turns away from the snake charmer to look at me.

I'm pointing at a tiger, walking through the crowd as though it were a domestic cat.

“Fuck sake”, Violet says, and makes sure she gets out of the way. A few others are surprised by the appearance of such a monstrous beast, but everyone else just sees it as part of the fun. Perhaps they've been here so long, something like this is just normal now.

The cat walks past us, between where Violet and I are standing, and just carries on with its business as usual, not paying any of us much attention.

I see someone walking behind it, maybe by ten paces, and then I see something electronic, like some kind of remote control in his hands. A closer inspection of the beast shows something connected to a belt around its hind leg. The fucker is hooked up and behavior controlled.

Violet turns to me. “What the fuck is this place? What are the doors for?”

“Treats”, someone close by says. A smile creeps across his face, as though he’s letting us into a closely guarded secret he can’t keep in any longer.

“Go on”, I say.

He steps closer to us, but side on, as though taking up the first position to a dance, and lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Each time it's different. They change it every time”, he says. “And we're not allowed to say. Part of the Kings' rules, I’m afraid. I'm surprised they didn't tell you on the way in. I can recommend Orange”, he looks us up and down, “for both of you.”

After that he’s gone, melted back into the crowd he came from.

“You want to look?”

Of course you want to look. You wouldn’t have come down here in the first place if you didn’t want to look. Open up Pandora’s box, Violet. Show me the heart of darkness. Cure mine.

“I’m starving. Let's go to eat first, get to know each other a little bit. After that, we can do whatever you want.”

T
his is a fucking madhouse. Lions and tigers, acrobats, crazy rich weirdos everywhere. Jesus Christ. Vicki would shit bricks if she knew where I was. How the other half live.

I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the lions at the entrance, ready to pounce on me. I thought that was it, for sure.

This is unbelievable this place. No more than ten seconds inside, and I've already got a glass of the best champagne I've ever drunk, and more canapes than I’ll ever need. Maybe Bain has seen all of this shit before, which is why he seems to be watching me much more closely than the stuff going on around us, but I never have and, holy shit, this stuff is unbelievable.

It's like a circus, like the whole thing is a circus and we're closer to everything than anyone should ever be for their own safety. It’s like being in a thousand children’s books that have just come to life or discovering a fantasy world that you never knew existed. For a place that has a Chinese restaurant and the whole of Manhattan above it, they've somehow managed to fit in a spectacular guitar shaped hall with a domed ceiling some sixty foot above us, more animals than Brooklyn Zoo, trees that are actually growing out of the ground, and God knows how many rooms behind color coded entrance doors.

Up there, in that dome above us, trapeze artists are walking across tight ropes and then swinging across the huge space like monkeys. I kid you not, I've just watched a man walk through hot coals, another do a handstand on a bed of nails, and a magician cut someone in half.

There is a tank with rare fish in it, including what someone said was a great white shark, cars, motorbikes and hoverboard scooters, hidden rooms with mystery treats inside them and a banquet of God knows what the fuck else. I want to see it all. It's like being at an exclusive party, but there are so few other people here, it's like your own exclusive party, that no one else need turn up to. I want to call Vicki, and try to, but there is no reception down here. We could be a thousand metres underground for all I know.

We walk together into the top part of the eight, where they have tables and waiters, silver service, ice sculptures, a huge grand piano and a stage with music. The performer I am absolutely convinced is none other than Prince himself.

“Fuck Bain, do you know who that is?” I say, but Bain's already gone ahead and after spinning round a couple of times, I see him sat down at a table waving over at me to go and join him.

“What do you think?” he says, when I eventually sit down with him. There is so much to see, I can hardly contain myself. Prince is so fucking close I can almost touch him.

“I feel a little better now if you do plan to kill me. At least I can go out happy, knowing I’ve seen something I thought I’d never see it my life.”

“How would you like that to happen?” he asks plainly, eyes cold but lips twisted into a kind of mischievous smile.

“Later, if it has to happen at all”, I joke, wishing I’d never said anything at all. “I'm enjoying myself.”

“Good”, Bain says, relaxing back into the chair and interlocking his fingers together. “You looked like you needed it.”

“Perhaps”, I say, evasively. He’s totally right though.

“Think of it as a Christmas present.”

“I don't have anything I can give you in return.”

“We can talk about that later”, Bain says.

“After you've killed me?”

“I was hoping before”, Bain says, his eyes lighting up.

This feels like a date. A weird reality TV show date where I get to hook up with a millionaire. A young, sexy, athletic, bad boy, dark eyed, secrets in the closet millionaire.

“You're dangerous”, I say, pointing a fork accusingly at him.

Bain opens out his hands passively.

“Dangerous how?” he says.

I count them off on my fingers.

“You’re rich, you’re attractive, you’re charming. You know all the best places to go out.”

Bain takes a moment to answer, chewing over the possibilities of how best to respond. I know I’m flirting with him, but I don’t care. I purse my lips in the way I’ve been told looks sexy. I fiddle with my hair, the ring on my thumb.

“I never said I was charming”, he says.

“Perhaps not as charming as some.”

Bain looks away for a moment. When he looks back, he folds his arms across his chest and the look he gives me is so panty melting I can’t hold it for too long before I giggle nervously just to break the tension.

“And you? Just as dangerous.”

Those eyes are incredible. I hadn’t noticed them until now, because too much other shit has been going on, but wow. Dark brown, almost black around the edges, like the card he used to get in here, and then explosive in the centre like the pool of lava at the bottom of a volcano.

“How am I dangerous?” I ask, silently loving the fact that someone thinks I am.

“You're unpredictable. And for someone like me, someone who makes a living out of patterns of predictability, you represent a very high risk.”

“Something about you tells me you like high risk.”

“I like high reward”, Bain says.

“The higher the risk, the higher the reward”, I say. “Isn’t that what they always say?”

“Maybe”, Bain says, catching my leg that's been rubbing against his and running his fingers up towards the back of my knee. “What's your favorite color”, he asks.

“Red”, I say, licking my lips.

He reaches in between my legs, grabs the chair and drags me effortlessly towards him. This is a demonstration of ownership. Bain is laying a claim on me and it’s having the desired effect. He’s making my pussy fizz with anticipation.

“You want to kiss me?” I ask, leaning towards him, so if he wanted to, he wouldn’t even have to move his head to do so.

“I want to eat you”, he says.

I bite my lip. I run my hands down the front of my jeans and arch my back up like a cat. I could lower myself onto him right now and be happy. “I told you you were dangerous”, I say, ready to move into him. Ready to have him move into me.

“A lion can't help but be the king of the jungle.”

“Is that what you are?” I ask.

“You know that's what I am”, he says, his words barely a whisper. “I don't need to tell you that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he shifts his body closer to mine. Seamlessly, he places his leg between mine and in response, I move my hand to his thigh, inches away from his throbbing cock. I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips, and when he leans in to press them against mine, I turn away, playfully, presenting him the softness of my neck instead.

He kisses me there and then bites me too, perhaps as a punishment, and eventually I have to pull away because the sensation makes me squirm. I reach up and touch the area he has bitten, my fingers wet with his saliva. I'm a little surprised, but I like it. I laugh and push him away.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“I can eat.”

I let the moment melt away between us, happy to have it under my control, and Bain sinks back into his seat, to watch me like a wolf might an already trapped animal.

I take the opportunity to shift the thrust of the interaction and motion to a passing waiter. Before he comes to the table, Bain says, “You're getting used to this already.”

We order food that sounds so exotic, I have absolutely no idea what's eventually going to come out. There are no prices on the menu, and no limit to the amount we can choose. They will, at an additional charge, order something from anywhere in the city for you.

“This isn't my life. I clean dishes and wash sheets for people like this. I look after these people's children and get looked down upon and treated like shit because of it.”

“Not tonight you don't”, Bain says. “You can do whatever the fuck you like tonight. You're on the other side.”

“God knows how”, I say.

“You're looking at him.”

“You're a cocky fucker aren't you?”

“Don’t tell me that doesn’t excite you. Every female in every species in this world is attracted to confidence. They are lying if they tell you they aren’t. It’s built into you, no matter how much you fight against it. There is nothing you can do about it.”

I want Bain to bite me again, but I don’t want to tell him that.

“That isn't confidence”, I say instead, “that's arrogance.”

“It's the same thing”, Bain says, his eyes smoldering into me again.

After a while, a waiter comes over to fill up our glasses with red wine.

“The colors have changed”, he says, excitedly, as though talking about the changing of the seasons. “Which one would you like to enter?”

“Red”, Bain says, without hesitation.

“Good choice”, the waiter says. “And you, Violet Buchanan?”

I have no idea how this man knows my name, but nothing is going to surprise me in here.

“I'll go into red as well”, I say, my eyes locked into battle with Bain’s.

“Together or separately?” the waiter asks.

A silence hits us like a wall. Bain eventually breaks it.

“You choose whatever you want”, he says.

This is it. My destiny, my doom. If I step in, will I ever step out again?

“Together”, I say, lifting up my glass.

Bain wastes no time in clinking his own against it.

T
he food is incredible. Easily the best I've ever eaten at one of these things, and Violet can't get enough of it either. She's getting drunk, and the drunker she gets, the more she seems to be letting herself go. She made the decision of what will happen between us a couple of hours ago when she stood on that sidewalk in the Christmas snow, got into my car and let fate sweep her along. The rest is just like watching the water boil in a saucepan with a broken handle.

Of course she can't resist me. She thinks she hates me, but the things she thinks she hates are the things she is instinctively attracted to. I represent a good mate for her. I'm rich, powerful, dominant and well respected. I'm confident and I get what I want, and what I want to get is someone who is usually out of my client bracket. I like to be reminded from time to time that nobody is immune to my power.

“Are you ready for what you might see?”

“What might I see?”

Her not as innocent as she makes out eyes do a bad job of pretending to be so. I decide to see exactly where her sensitivities lie.

“I saw a woman in a glass cage earlier tonight, strapped up to a machine that made her come every time someone pressed a button for long enough.”