Beneath a Blood Moon by R. J. Blain Read Free Book Online Page B

challenging my criteria for eligible men, although I had the feeling they confused her.
    If I didn’t want to end up sleeping with a loser, I’d have to teach her the difference between assholes and men worth pursuing. She approved of my thoughts, her presence warm and soothing.
    I made it all the way to the dressing room without her trying to force me into bed with anyone. Letting out a relieved sigh, I braced myself for a torrent of questions.
    My fellow strippers didn’t disappoint, and they descended on me like a pack of chattering, giggling hyenas. Danny pulled my coat off, tossing it to one of the other girls. “Damn, woman, you’re going for gold tonight. What kept you out? It’s been busy. Damned convention next door—we sure as hell could’ve used you or Slink yesterday on the pole.”
    Isabella wasn’t ever coming back. Before my guilt could once again take hold, my wolf’s satisfaction smothered it. If she hadn’t attacked us, she wouldn’t have died.
    It was a wolf’s logic, but I couldn’t argue with her because it was true. I sighed.
    “Stomach bug,” I lied, although there was some truth to my admission. Turning into a werewolf likely wouldn’t fly as an excuse, and I had been throwing up ever since the full moon. Examining myself in the mirror, I adjusted my front zipper so none of my cleavage was showing. “I doubt you would’ve liked me puking all over the stage. What did I miss?”
    “Packed house, a fight, and some of the hottest VIPs I’ve seen in ages are here tonight, so you better stay until at least eleven, girl. Rumor has it they’ll be taking girls home with them, too—and paying a pretty penny for the privilege; higher than the usual rate. They’re coming through the dressing room sometime after ten. Peach says they’re into blonds. She’s seen them around the past few nights.”
    I looked around for the red-head, frowning when I didn’t see her among the other strippers. “Where is Peach?”
    “She’s coming in after nine. Think you’ll stay for the eleven shift?”
    Eleven was well after most of the buffets closed for the night, and if she was right, I’d likely end up serving some man as a prostitute. I sighed. “I was scheduled in until eight, Danny.”
    “I’ll run up to the boss and tell him you’re in your vinyl tonight. We’ll figure something out. Worse case, we’ll take turns sitting rounds. Vinyl means we all get better tips, girl.” Danny grinned at me, blew me a kiss, and sashayed her way through the other girls getting ready. I didn’t know most of them, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest.
    The boss gave almost all girls a try, but most didn’t make the cut. I grumbled, going over each of my buckles to make sure they would be easy enough to unfasten. Fumbling with buckles tended to be a turn off for the audience.
    Danny and Patricia would prove the high earners, probably with me as a close third, although I had a chance to take the top spot in my vinyl. We’d be expected to carry the show while the newbies flounced around and attempted to strut their stuff. The boss would look the other way when they solicited the departing clients, never to be seen again—or at least not for a few months.
    “Hey, Patricia,” I called, bouncing my hip against one of the new girls to make space at the vanity and mirrors. “Can you snag my heels?”
    “Sure thing, Jasmine. Which pair?”
    “Whatever you think fits the mood.” I had to jump to reach my makeup bag hanging from the hook above the mirror. “Sparkle or matte?”
    “Because glitter goes oh-so-well with vinyl. Should be fun; you’ll stand out even more. We’ve been in feathers all day, and the boss says we’ll stay in feathers until he tells us otherwise.”
    “Feathers? Seriously?” I grumbled, wondering if I’d even get to wear the vinyl out. “Glue some to my ass. I didn’t get a feathers-only memo, Patty.”
    I also hadn’t checked my answering machine in fear of what sort