Chapter Six

Shamira could see the cogs turning in Shane's head, figuring out how she could be useful to him.

"Listen, I guess I owe you thanks for . . . doing what you did. I guess I'm just not sure why you did it or what you expect of me?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a couple of the other residents arrive and be seated. She guessed it was close to dinner. "Hey . . . Uhm . . . dinner --"

Clara placed a hand on her young charge's arm. "Fledglings can eat normal food or consume blood. Feeding is an art, so Shane thought it would be wise to present you with a normal meal this evening. Personally, I prefer to drink blood, but I'll be dining on solid food today. Make you feel more at home."

"As for what I want from you and why I changed you --" Shane paused. "First, I owed you something for helping us out that night. I had agents in place that you couldn't have known about, but we had still found ourselves in an awkward predicament where innocents might have gotten hurt.

You showed great courage, and you saved the life of the girl who had been left chained to the wall. And while you were dying, Clara explained the kindness you showed her outside the club."

"She was part of your backup plan, wasn't she?"

Shane nodded. "She was to keep an eye and make sure that there weren't more of my adversary's men coming in. Compassion, loyalty, strength – these are things I could tell about you before you closed your eyes. And you must have great dedication and resilience to carve a physique such as yours.

So I took your blood and shared some of mine with you. Then you died, only to be reborn a day after being laid to rest. I got a copy of your personnel file, and I see potential in you.

Your aptitude scores are phenomenal, and the only reason you're not on SWAT or a detective is, I assume because you encountered a 'good old boy' network. Or they are complete idiots. I would not waste your talent, Shamira. I would waste nothing you had to offer."

Shamira was nervous about the way he said that and by the look in his eyes while saying it. Was he still just talking about her skill set?

"I would like for you to be one of my new enforcers," Shane told her. "You would be for me as you were in life. Only instead of enforcing mortal law, you would be enforcing Tribunal law."

"Why can't I just go back to being a cop?" she asked. Then she slapped her face. "Never mind. I'm dead."

"Indeed." Shane looked at the cowboy dom who Clara had called Henry. "Henry is going to be my chief enforcer, but I'm going to need more. You have the knowledge, the ability, and the desire to do good. You would be under his supervision when in the field."

"What about my family? My friends?" she whispered. Not that she had many. She noticed the room was very quiet now. "Can I see them?"

Shane nodded. He had been expecting these questions. "I encourage all my children and employees to break from their old lives. Humans, for the most part, simply are unable to deal with our reality, much less keep it a secret.

Our world is dangerous, Shamira. Do you really want your family to be part of it? I will not lie to you. I can command you not to see them, but I will not do so. The choice is up to you. But remember that exposing us and our secrets puts us in danger, and you would be held responsible. So choose wisely."

Shamira wasn't able to ask any more questions since food chose that moment to arrive. Apparently, Shane had a number of household servants, and several of them deposited a feast on the table.

After putting down a tray of roast beef, mashed potatoes, assorted greens, a huge bowl of salad, and just about anything else a girl could desire, they sat down next to some of the vampires and cocked their heads.

'They're not just delivering food,' Shamira realized. 'They ARE food!' Sure enough, Shane, Bjorne, and Banshee all dug fangs into the necks of their dinners, and those servants didn't seem to mind.

She was pretty sure the young man that Shane was chewing on was about to shoot a load in his pants. She turned to Clara, who was in the process of filling half her plate with mashed potatoes. Shamira actually found herself amused.

"What?" Clara said primly. "I like mashed potatoes." She slathered enough butter on them to clog a cow's heart and then covered it with cheese and bacon bits.

"How do you . . . we . . . do the fang thing?"

"Ah, that. Well, it'll happen automatically if you get really angry or really thirsty, but it's also something that you can will. Like concentrating on scrunching your eyebrow or clenching your jaw."

She watched as Shamira started to flex the muscles of her face, wishing she could watch muscles all over her body flex. Well, one thing at a time. Finally, she saw that the other woman had succeeded when she grasped her mouth.

"Ouf! I bith mah lib!"

Everyone at the table got a chuckle at that. "It happens to everyone the first time," Shane said.

Clara was watching as Shamira practiced expanding and retracting her fangs until she obviously felt comfortable, then went about eating. 'Interesting,' she thought. 'She finds a problem and stays with it until she solves it, then moves on. I think Shane was right to bring her over.'

During the meal, Shamira kept her ears open but her eyes mostly downward, occasionally stealing glances at the other feasters. At the table, she didn't hear any "masters" or "slaves" uttered. They talked about the news, sports, and some magical politics that she struggled to keep up with.

She glanced several times at the Brazilian hottie Renata, who was relaxed at the other end of the table and talking with Raul about increasing their magical security.

If she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes, Shamira never would have believed that the woman had been whipped and fucked less than half an hour earlier.

Instead, she was being a professional, albeit dressed in a black silk robe that probably felt heavenly against the stings on her skin.

And Shamira's mind kept drifting back to when she had seen Renata's face. Sweaty, hungry, satisfied. She shook her head.

She couldn't imagine doing what that girl had done. She was stronger than that. But no matter how hard she tried, that look haunted her.

'What do I do?' she thought. 'They can't expect me to make a decision right away. I've lost my job, maybe my family, and hell, I lost my life.' She remained quiet for the entire dinner and, when it was over, sat there quietly. She didn't know what she was supposed to do next.

Shane had been keeping an eye on the young woman. She had not been brought over under optimal conditions, and he felt sorry that she was so lost.

He normally tried to let people know about what being a vampire meant and what living in the world with little sunlight meant, but there had been no time.

He had made a decision that had completely turned her life upside down. "Clara, why don't you take Shamira down to the club? Show her a little of my empire? I have to make some calls and see how much leeway I have with our would-be conquerer, otherwise, I might join you."

"Wait," Shamira said. "What club? Not the one I was killed in, right?"

"Absolutely not. It was a second-rate establishment and gaudy besides. No, this is the club I own, and you'll find it considerably more tasteful. At least I hope you will, otherwise I may have to fire someone."

"I'll go with," Renata said. "I need to talk to Travis anyway and see if he can recommend any other weres that might help boost the security. When will the new housing be ready, by the way?"

"I'll be closing on an adjacent property next week, so we'll be able to house them as soon as you find them and approve them."

"I'll tag along as well," Henry said, a sexy Texas drawl in his voice. "If the missus decides to take ya up, I might be able to help answer her questions."

"Okay," Clara said.

"Hey, I don't really have anything to wear for a . . . night out . . . after being dead."

Monique perked up. "I can --"

"I think it's a bit early for that," Clara chuckled. "It's okay. Just throw a long coat over what you have on and you'll be fine. It'll make everyone wonder what, if anything, is beneath it, and sometimes the mystery is the greatest aphrodisiac of all."

"Okay, you're creeping me out again."

"I'll meet you in the garage," Renata said, eying the new girl over. "I think I've got a coat that will work for her."

She stood up, dropped her robe over the back of the chair, and strode out naked, wearing the red welts on her back like badges of honor. Shamira was apparently the only one shocked by this.

"She's got a great bod," Clara muttered. "Why not show it off?"

Shamira couldn't argue. She stood up and followed Clara to the garage, and she got the sinking suspicion that Henry was checking her out. She wasn't sure what he was judging, and it certainly wasn't any romantic interest.

Guys, even vampiric ones, that looked that good could have anyone they wanted. That meant they didn't wind up interested in Shamira.