Hearts Under Fire (7 page)

“So they’re made differently for each person, and the card is just temporary?”

“You got it,” Clark said with a friendly smile. He gestured grandly at the hallways. “Welcome to the Catacombs. These hallways surround Break, which is through there.” Clark pointed to another pair of catty-cornered, closed double doors. Looking up, Clark gave a two-fingered salute to the security camera before looking around.

“No subs chained to the basement walls. How disappointing,” Clark quipped, before he turned to the left. “Come on. We’ll go hit up the coat check. It’s on the other side near the Bliss entrance.”

Daniel followed, glancing at the décor, curious as to what a BDSM club looked like. Small tables stood against the wall. Some had artwork on them, some had an ornate lamp or antique. Paintings and graphic art hung here and there as they wound their way around the Catacombs.

After turning a corner, another large set of closed double doors loomed ahead of them. Daniel assumed that must be the doorway leading upstairs to the staff offices. As the men got closer, it was easy to hear the low thrum of music coming from Break; the doors into the club itself were on their right and open. A tall, androgynous individual, clothed from neck to toe in what looked like priests’ robes, stood speaking to one of the staff members just outside the doorway into Break. Daniel watched as Clark smiled at a man who was nude save for a black G-string, and the man flashed back a grin and a little wave. “Coat check,” Clark said to Daniel, as they turned the final corner. A counter spanned the width of the hallway, and a pretty girl with long, black curls and a stylish suit smiled at Clark and Daniel.

“Hi, sirs,” she chirped. “I need your cell phones, IDs, and signatures.” She pushed a pad of paper toward Clark.

“Rose,” Clark said, handing over his cell phone and ID. “You look lovely as always.”

“And you look suitably hot for a guy,” Rose retorted.

“Have I told you that you’d make a great gay man lately?” Clark asked, shrugging out of his duster and handing it over. Rose took it with a giggle, and Clark bent to sign both himself and Daniel into Break.

“Not in the last week, Sir, no.”

Daniel fished his cell phone from his coat pocket, handing that to her before taking off his coat and laying it on the counter. He then dug in his back pocket for his wallet.

“Which ID?” Daniel asked.

“Your license or other form of identification,” Rose said, smiling at Daniel as he handed it over. “I check it against my List of Important Personages, you see.”

Clark started to laugh, but cut off abruptly. Daniel looked up and found Clark staring. A vest framed Clark’s chest, the pants revealing more of his sculpted musculature than they hid. The gleam of chain wrapped about Clark’s waist, the buckles and straps, and the wide wrist cuff -- no, watchband -- made Daniel want to howl in frustration.

Why in the world does everything he have on make me just want to truss him and eat him?

Daniel gritted his teeth, smiled at the girl, and took back his ID when she was done.

Clark turned to wink at Rose, amiable persona back in place. “Might there be a certain gray-eyed demi-monarch roaming about?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Oh yes. He’s inside talking to Garreth.”

“Naturally,” Clark said, as he pushed away from the counter and kept his distance from Daniel. Clark’s smile was easy and the tilt of his head casual.

“Let me introduce you to Lucian, if you don’t mind,” Clark said. “Then you’ll be rid of me for the evening.”

“I’d be pleased to meet him.” Daniel counted it a minor victory that he could say it evenly. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like it if you gave me a tour of the place? I don’t know where I can go and where I shouldn’t.”

“No problem,” Clark said immediately. “Any restricted area will require a pass key. The private rooms, for example -- we call them the Crypts. They’re all off the ‘combs.” Clark began to walk toward the doors leading into Break. “Right this way, sir,” he said playfully.

Daniel let Clark take two steps before him so he could hide his reaction to that ‘sir,’ and then followed Clark. The lights were low in the club. Daniel saw several main play areas on either side of a large runway. Each play area was marked off by a different type of flooring, plastic or carpet. High tables flanked the runway, and there was plenty of seating everywhere.

Along the left wall was a lounge area with low chairs, benches, and more equipment. The entire back wall was padded, with silver rings set into it for easy use. The bar was across the room from the Bliss entrance, and a DJ’s booth sat in the back left corner next to the bar. It was still early, so the club wasn’t terribly crowded, but people sat in the lounge and two men occupied one play area on the far side of the room.

“They’re all stages,” Daniel said softly, letting some of his trepidation show. “So many people can watch at the same time. Are there any rules of conduct for the audience?”

Clark took a tiny step toward Daniel. “Standard rules apply,” Clark replied. “No touching unless invited, no interfering with ongoing play unless given permission. To use the equipment, generally one just needs to claim it. There’s plenty to go around. But if it’s crowded, you can always check with one of the hosts -- over there?” Clark pointed at the man in the priest-like robes. “They monitor the room, keep equipment waiting lists if necessary, and can answer any questions.”

Clark paused to wave at someone and then cleared his throat. “Basically, stick to always asking before you do anything, and you’ll be fine. Or wait until someone offers to let you join in. Looking like you do? People will offer.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow and then nodded. “That works for me, that you have to ask first. And I already see a few things I’d love to try out.” He took a deep breath and let it go. “Nearly all my work has been in private, so this is very new to me. Thanks for enumerating the rules.”

“Not a problem,” Clark said. “I’m here to ease the way and make sure you have a good time.” Clark smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Daniel was getting familiar with that look.

“So if you find you need a private room tonight, you can use mine. As an owner, I have my own in the back of the ‘combs.” Clark shifted, scanning the room again, and Daniel couldn’t shake the feeling that Clark was hiding something.

“Thank you,” Daniel replied, and mulled over Clark’s offer. “I don’t really intend to get involved with anything tonight, but I guess I’ll have to see how things play out.” He glanced at the nearest area. “Are there themes to the stages?”

Clark looked anywhere but at Daniel, and a faint frown appeared between his eyebrows, mouth forming a familiar expression of tension. “The main stage is for staff shows. The play areas change from time to time, but I suppose you’d call them ‘themed,’ yes. Stocks, spanking, tables, guest performances.” Clark shrugged. “Chance likes to switch things up in the areas on whim, and Lucian lets him. Otherwise, nothing would ever change. Lucian’s fairly big on consistency.”

“You say that like it’s a flaw in character, Clark,” said a voice from behind them that was as slick as river stone. Daniel turned with Clark to watch a slender man approach.

“I would never hint that you had character to flaw, Lucian,” Clark quipped, a smile playing across his lips.

The corners of Lucian’s mouth tilted upward, and he turned his speculative gaze to Daniel. Lucian Gray was tall, lithe, and made of angles and long lines. Tonight he wore a black velvet shirt with boning that showed off slim shoulders and shapely collar bones. The shirt stopped above his navel, exposing lean muscle and pale skin. Black, skintight pants covered his lower body, but they were draped in so much fine silver chain that they got lost beneath the links, and Lucian’s boots laced up over his knees. Leather gauntlets covered Lucian’s wrists and forearms, and his waist-length brown hair was held away from one ear by a diamond-studded clasp.

Stunning, thought Daniel. Lucian seemed to maximize the femininity of his appearance, and it worked for him. Lucian smiled and extended a hand to Daniel. “Lucian Gray,” he said.

Daniel took the hand, and there was something in Lucian’s eyes that made Daniel resist the temptation to bring the knuckles to his lips. Instead, he shook it, matching grip for grip, no stronger. “Daniel Germain,” he replied. “I am very impressed by your place.”

Lucian’s thin lips spread into a broader smile. He squeezed Daniel’s hand once before letting go. “So happy to hear it,” Lucian replied, voice lazy, nearly sleepy.

“Clark has said many good things about you,” Lucian continued. He eyed Daniel with a fixed, long-lashed gaze. “And it’s easy to see why he likes you.” Lucian’s eyes flickered to Clark, and he looked almost sympathetic before he made a noise that was hard to identify as a low laugh.

Daniel glanced at a stoic Clark. What he saw there made him hold his breath. Widened eyes, a slow blush, and stony silence caused a cascade of thoughts and images to fall through Daniel’s mind.

Meeting Lucian felt just like meeting any other dom. Daniel never responded to them. Even the most abrasive behavior rolled off him like water off a duck. He turned politeness on like a shield. He never, ever got angry at doms being doms.

Then why the hell do I get so angry with Clark?

Clark letting him turn his hand in the bar. Clark waiting for him outside the building rather than coming in to find him. Clark going from hungry and happy to tight and worried when they’d talked about Daniel’s private business. Clark’s horrified look when Daniel had asked about the possibility of blackmail. Clark’s shuttered gaze when Daniel called Clark “Sergeant”. Clark’s small teases with sub-language. Clark’s sudden relaxation when Daniel made a specific request for a tour this place. Clark’s clothing choices for the club.

The effort Clark had gone to in tracking Daniel down was extraordinary. Why he’d started was still a mystery to Daniel. There was no way in hell Clark could have known about the potential tie-in to Break until after he’d done a lot of work. Daniel knew how hard it was to get information on his side business. Clark would have found the death of Daniel’s parents, all his school and normal business records, and probably even his medical, contact, and license information first.

Just like the moment Daniel hit the curves on the mountain road, everything suddenly went clear.

He wants me to dominate him, but he can’t say it. He can’t say it consciously to himself, much less to me. He’s saying it in all the nonverbal ways I would have read if I weren’t so damned nervous about this place, or if he hadn’t gotten me at the university.

And I want to take him so badly, too. I’m responding to his need, even when he denies it with every tease.

What the hell am I going to do?

Daniel let out his breath.

I’m going to do what I always do. Listen. Watch. See the way in.

***

Daniel gave Lucian a bow. “I’m glad it’s easy for you to see. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome,” Lucian intoned, arms crossing. “We’d be delighted if you became a member. Thanks to Clark’s sponsorship and enthusiastic research, I know you’d fit in here. Thrive, if you chose.”

Lucian seemed to consider, eyes flickering back to Clark, who remained stonily quiet, trying to keep his mind blank. Very blank. First-snowfall-in-the-meadows blank.

“Clark can fill you in on anything you wish to know, I’m sure.”

“He’s been very helpful,” Daniel said politely, taking a step nearer Clark. “I still need to look more closely at what’s available, but with such support, it’s easy to think of joining.”

Lucian inclined his head. “Clark,” he said with a sidelong look as he stepped away to greet a pair just coming into the room.

Feeling summarily released from Lucian’s attention, Clark conjured a smile. Butterflies and bats were having a nocturnal party in Clark’s guts, and this was going to be an early night. He would get Daniel to Tristan, let the professor begin to enjoy himself, and get the hell out of Dodge.

Clark saw an image of himself, as clearly as if he were looking at one of Jeffrey’s paintings: shirtless, sitting on the floor of the loft, half-empty bottle on his right, and too many bad memories filling the room.

“He’s a prince, isn’t he?” Clark asked mildly, nodding toward to Lucian.

“A bit, but it serves him well,” Daniel said. “Is it true that you work for him?”

Clark blinked and managed a smirk. “Ah-ha, so my reputation really did precede me back at the bar.” Clark chuckled as he turned to survey the room instead of Daniel.

“Yes, it’s true,” Clark finally replied.

“Well, shall we continue the tour?” Daniel asked. “Now that we’ve seen the prince of the realm, perhaps more of the castle walls and battlements? Or, to be cliché, the dungeons? I can just imagine him as one of those princes that would pick the choice ones for the torture racks.”

A laugh bubbled from Clark’s lips; a pleasant surprise. “So true. The pretty ones get chained to the walls in Lucian’s world.” He shook his head, thinking of the little boy Lucian who used to get so pissed when Clark pulled his hair.

“The tour. Right.” Clark clapped his hands and then flourished. “I thought I might introduce you to Tristan and Adam.” Clark pointed toward the back play area near the bar. “Think you’d get along like leather and lace.”

“Lead on. It’ll be good to know more people here.”

Clark made a quiet noise of acquiescence. “Tristan’s a good guy, and Adam’s a trip.” Clark began to walk across the room, circling around the catwalk. He turned and locked eyes with Garreth and nodded once at the redheaded DJ. The music was still low enough that indoor voices worked for conversation, for which Clark was grateful.

Daniel stepped up so that he was next to Clark. “A trip? How so? And did you get to know them here?”

Clark shrugged. “Adam’s a professional sub. He’s just playful is all.” Clark kept his tone light and easy and deliberately didn’t answer the entire series of questions. Tristan saw them coming, looked up from Adam -- who sat cross-legged on a low, padded table with his wrists in cuffs -- and grinned at Clark.