“Naya, do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“No drama. I mean with Wheeler. He always bails whenever you show up. I don’t know why you two hate each other so much, but I don’t want anything to spoil Maizy’s party. It’s not every day she turns eleven, and I feel like we’re losing that little girl.”

“You have nothing to worry your pretty little head about. This is her special day, and I wouldn’t dream of spoiling it. I’m going to bring balloons, presents, and her favorite treat.”

Lexi arched her brow. “What’s that?”

“Auntie Naya’s famous bag of pretzels. I’ll leave it to her big sister to bake the most fantastic birthday cake in the entire world. Now how about we order another bottle of red and do a little gossiping before I go to work? I want to hear all about this heat house.”

Chapter 2

“I should have never had the fourth glass of wine,” I said regretfully on a long sigh. After finishing my first shift, I’d retreated to the dressing room to cool down and change clothes. Club Sin had more action on the floor than I’d seen in weeks.

“Serves you right,” Daphne said with a cackle, flipping her bright red hair back. Although calling it red would be stretching the truth since it resembled the color of a sweet potato.

“I made five hundred dollars on one dance alone from the men at the tip rail. They really like it when I wear these panties,” I said, shaking my hips and creating a ripple of movement from the beads strung along them.

I never got all the way nude onstage, and I earned higher tips when I wore a semisheer top or bra instead of going topless, which I never did anymore. For me, it was more about the performance than the act of nudity. Let the other girls get down and dirty, but I left the men wanting more. A few years ago, I bought a full latex suit that didn’t show any skin outside of my face, hands, and feet. The men could barely stay seated and paid extra to touch the material. You learn things as you go—that sometimes you don’t have to give all of yourself away to get what you need in life.

I dabbed my face with a towel and sat down in front of the mirror to count out my money. “Whoever let the Chitahs in tonight should be fired.”

“They’re usually our best customers,” Daphne said, her voice raucous. She put out her cigarette in a black ashtray. “They have more respect for women than most of those nimrods.”

I waved a dollar bill. “One guy tipped me a Washington and told me to get another job.”

“Oh, baby. I’m so glad you said something. I’ve got zero tolerance for cheapskates.” Daphne blotted her lips with more Extreme Red and fluffed her short hair.

The dancers were a mix of different Breeds, but the majority were Shifters like me. In the Breed world, our only talent was shifting into an animal, which couldn’t earn us money in any practical way. Relics were born with innate knowledge, which meant job security from birth as a healer, advisor, or researcher. They earned an exceptional income and often worked for the same immortals as their parents had, establishing clientele that were passed down through each generation. Sensors were like a vending machine of sorts where a person paid them for an emotional experience. Some customers wanted to relive emotions from a time in their life, while others lived vicariously through the experiences of others. Most Chitahs worked as investigators because of their keen sense of smell, and they had the good sense not to allow their sisters to sling beer or strip on a pole. The Chitah strippers I’d known never got high tips from Chitah males, and in some cases their routines would start a fight in the club. Chitahs didn’t like to see their women degrading themselves, as they put it.