Web of Lies (Page 57)

And I especially admired Roslyn’s fierce devotion to her sister and young niece, her determination to provide a better life for them. But that didn’t mean I was going to let the vampire renege on our deal. Fletcher Lane was dead, partly because of her. She owed me until I said otherwise.

"All right," Roslyn said in a quiet voice. "I’ll help you, Gin."

"Thank you." I might be twisting Roslyn’s arm to the breaking point, but there was no need to be ungrateful about it.

The vampire nodded her head. "Follow me."

Roslyn led us out of her office. The maze of corridors snaked all the way around the interior perimeter of Northern Aggression, forming a series of passageways, peepholes, and discreet doors that let Roslyn, her hookers, and the giant bouncers who watched out for them have access to the entire nightclub without having to fight their way through the drinking, smoking, snorting, f**king crowd on the main floor.

After a series of twists and turns, Roslyn opened a door marked Supplies and stepped inside. Finn and I followed her.

Finn stopped dead in his tracks, and a wide smile spread across his face. "I think I’ve died and gone to heaven."

I snorted. "Yeah, hooker heaven."

The room wasn’t filled with what I would consider supplies, but then again, I wasn’t in the nightclub business.

Racks and racks of clothes took up a good portion of the room, along with a couple of rows of metal lockers and several vanity tables crammed with makeup, hairspray, and dozens of boxes of condoms, feminine lubricants, and assorted body oils.

Roslyn removed a clipboard and pen from the wall next to a clothes rack. She perched her hip on one of the makeup tables and stabbed the pen at me. "Strip," she ordered.

"Why?"

Roslyn pierced me with a hard stare. "Because if you’re going to masquerade as one of my girls, then you’re damn sure going to look the part. I’m not sending out shoddy merchandise, especially not to one of Mab Monroe’s parties."

I had to applaud Roslyn’s dedication to her craft, if nothing else. So I stepped out of my boots and socks, peeled off my jeans, and shrugged out of my fleece jacket.

I took a little more care with my long-sleeved T-shirt, making sure Roslyn didn’t see the two knives I had tucked up my sleeves or the one I’d had hidden against the small of my back. A minute later, I stood there in my bra and panties. The concrete floor felt like ice against my bare feet.

"Underwear too," Roslyn barked. "I need to see everything."

I looked at Finn and made a circle with my finger, suggesting he turn around.

"C’mon, Gin. It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before," Finn protested.

Roslyn started. "Don’t tell me the two of you – "

"Yeah, we did," I said. "When we were kids. Before I knew any better. Now turn around, Finn."

Finn rolled his eyes, but he turned his back and wandered over to the racks of clothes, most of which were either transparent wisps of lace and satin or form-fitting pieces of leather.

Roslyn grabbed a tape measure from one of the tables and wrapped it around various parts of my body. I stood there and let her work. The vampire regarded me with all the interest a butcher would a cow. Standing there naked wasn’t the most comfortable thing I’d ever done, but I knew Roslyn had seen better bodies than mine in her time. Hell, she had one herself. So I decided to focus on more important matters.

"According to info Finn found, some of your girls have had dealings with Tobias Dawson before," I said. "What does he like?"

"Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "I need to attract his attention tonight. Can’t hurt to stack the deck in my favor."

Roslyn wrote down another measurement on her clipboard.

"Have you ever seen Tobias Dawson?"

"Once."

"Then you know about his cowboy fetish," Roslyn said.

"You mean the cheesy snakeskin boots and the hat that’s almost as tall as he is?"

The vampire nodded. "Dawson not only dresses like a cowboy, but he acts like one too – especially in bed. He likes Texas beauty queens. Big blond hair, big blue eyes, big tits, tight asses, lots of makeup. Of which the only thing you currently have is a tight ass."

"Thanks," I said in a wry tone.

Roslyn raised her eyebrows. "Just pointing out the facts. You did come here for my professional opinion, after all."

I nodded. "I did."

"Dawson likes to take the lead. In keeping with the cowboy persona, he likes for a woman to catch his eye, and then he does his best to hog-tie her."

"Literally or figuratively?"

Roslyn stared at me. "Both. One of my girls had rope burns for a week after paying him a visit."

I filed the information away. "What else?"

"He also likes to wear chaps, a cowboy hat, and his boots when he f**ks."

"Sounds like a kinky bastard to me," Finn said.

The vampire walked over to a different rack of clothes than the one Finn had been rifling through. "Unfortunately, not as kinky as some I’ve seen and done."

Roslyn flipped through the clothes for a moment before turning back to me. "I assume you’ll want something with a little coverage to it. Where you can stash certain… supplies?"

Weapons, in other words. "Yeah. The more coverage the better. I like to be prepared."

Roslyn nodded. "Any particular color you’d prefer?"

"Black."

"Shocking," she muttered.

After a few minutes, Roslyn pulled a black pushup bra and a set of sheer matching panties off the rack. She handed them to me. "Put those on."

I did as she asked. The garments fit perfectly, and the bra pushed my small br**sts up to new, gravity-defying heights. Finn let out a whistle of appreciation. I drew my finger across my throat, showing him exactly what would happen if he didn’t shut up. Finn just grinned at me.

Roslyn also plucked a black cocktail dress out of the mass of clothes and handed it to me. I slipped into the fabric. The dress was long-sleeved with a sweetheart neckline and bustier-like top. Thanks to the bra, my cle**age swelled on either side of the fabric. The skirt was a mass of black crinoline with tiny sequins sewn into it. The garment stopped just above my knees.

"How’s that?" Roslyn asked.

I looked at myself in a mirror over one of the vanity tables. The sleeves were loose enough for me to carry my knives, and I could strap a couple more to my thighs underneath the billowing skirt. "Perfect."

Roslyn nodded, like she’d expected nothing else, and sashayed over to one of the vanity tables. She handed me a box that read Contacts – Sky Blue, and a long, curly, blond wig with teased bangs. "With the wig, contacts, and enough makeup, you’ll be Dawson’s dream girl. I assume you can do your own makeup."