“You’re adorable,” Nora said to the girl. “I’ll talk to King about getting you on the floor.”

“Thank you, mistress,” the girl breathed. She seemed to remember herself and said with a more professional tone, “Can I get anything for you, mistress? For your guest?”

“A white scarf, please. And my case. The black one.”

With another curtsy the girl left and promptly returned with a plain white handkerchief and a small box that looked like a flute case only much longer.

Nora took the white scarf and wrapped it around his bicep.

“What on earth—”

“The Circle revived the flag and scarf signal system from the old guard leather scene,” Nora explained. “We revised it quite a bit to suit the specific clientele that comes here. The scarves are signals or advertisements. Here white means you’re an S&M virgin who only wants to observe. Should keep the wolves at bay.”

“Should?” Zach asked skeptically. “I really need a stop signal? A simple ‘no, thanks’ wouldn’t do?”

“Trust me, as gorgeous as you are, Zach, you would be in big trouble down there without a little armor on.”

“Wouldn’t red make for a better stop signal?” Zach asked, not wanting to be labeled as a “virgin” anything.

“A red scarf would signal you were into blood-play.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Could be worse,” Nora said as she finished knotting the scarf around his arm. “It could be a brown scarf.”

“And brown means?”

The young woman and Nora gave each other conspiratorial glances.

“Keep the wolves at bay…should I be nervous, Nora?”

Nora didn’t answer. She snapped open the black case and took out a riding crop, black with white braiding and quite professional-looking. She took a step back and twirled the crop with stunning expertise. With a quick flick she struck it against her own leather-clad calf. The sound echoed down the hall like a gunshot.

“Kingsley Edge was the first person who put a riding crop in my hand. It was like Arthur with Excalibur.” She winked at the girl and the girl could only smile in awe. Zach tried not to roll his eyes. Disheartening to think Nora had better luck with women than he did.

“Come, Zachary,” Nora said, tapping her leather-clad calf with the crop.

“Yes, mistress,” he said, with minimal irony.

Nora started to turn but stopped in midstep.

“Tell me your name,” she ordered the girl.

“Robin,” she replied.

“Ah, a little bird,” Nora purred. She reached out and caressed the girl’s burning cheek with the back of her hand. “I’ll remember that.”

Nora lowered her hand and stepped away. She pushed the down button on the elevator and the door slid open. They entered and Zach saw there was only a down button inside.

“This elevator only goes down?”