As Madam sets the glasses down and pours out servings of top shelf whiskey for Jas and myself, she begins yammering enthusiastically with Jas. 

"So how is Thomas these days?" Madam asks, "He never drops by to say hello anymore."

"He's busy. No, we're busy." Jas grins at Madam, "Married life is quite a thing you know. Never knew what I was getting into when I got together with your brother." I roll my eyes and stare at the dirty carpet in silence, my gaze focusing on a dull stain mark. Why did Jas bring me here in the first place? He knows that I couldn't give a shit about his boy toy or his fake family. Madam laughs happily as she hands the drinks out with one hand and squeezes Jas's thigh with the other. 

"Nuh, uh!" Jas exclaims in mock levity, "I don't swing that way Madam!"

"C'mon. Cheers!" Madam declares, lifting her glass up and inviting Jas and I to a toast. 

"To family!" Jas grins, "And to marriage! Maybe?"

I begin to raise my glass as well to put on a bit of a show for Jas's sake, but a sudden heat begins to stir deep within me. Not within Don Kuat. Within me, the real me. The blood serum, having laid dormant for so long, feels like a snake crawling beneath Don Kuat's skin. My awareness expands, and an overwhelming sense of menace floods my consciousness. Death Sense. Part of the power package the management had assigned to me after I absorbed the serum. 

My powers have awakened. That means only one thing. I am in danger. Right here. Right now. I don't sense any malice from Jas, no, Sheryl. He-She's acting the way she always acts. That means the danger is coming from Sheryl's buddy, Madam. I don't know what she's got planned, but my senses scream in warning as I begin the toast. 

I abruptly put the glass down and get up to leave. Death Sense immediately quietens down from frantic ranting to a unhappy grumble. I get up from the sofa and walk towards the door without another word. 

"Don, what's wrong?" Jas asks in a worried voice. He's not on guard. That means either Madam means him no harm, or his powers have grown so weak that they cannot activate. Honestly, its a toss up between the two possibilities. Jas had always slacked off on grinding, despite my best efforts to get him to improve. That's probably why management made me the Speaker, despite Jas being the senior operative. Then again, I doubt Jas is going to get whacked by his sister in law of all people. 

"I'm going to check the place out." I say neutrally, "Go ahead and do your thing, Captain."

"Don, c'mon ..." Jas starts but I ignore him and walk straight out of the VIP room. 

.....

"Who wants some nectar?" the emcee, a woman dressed in a suit blares into a microphone on the stage situated in the main hall of the club. The place is absolutely packed with boozy, rowdy women crowded at small tables all over the place. Most of the women are busy talking loudly with each other and eagerly eyeing the stage, but a few have already secured male companionship, probably the talent Ms face control was babbling about just now. 

And though I hate to admit it, face control was right. Jas and I would not be able to make it as escorts here. The male companions are all at the very least younger than us with toned, sculpted bodies displayed through skin tight shirts. A bartender begins setting up a table in front of the stage, laying out a long row of glasses and bottles of low grade booze. 

Gah, goddamn it. Once the serum is active, it will keep flowing about Don's body until it calms down a few hours later. My whole body feels prickly, as if I am about to be roused to action at any moment. A sinking feeling of guilt weighs down on my heart as the serum makes its complaints known against me. Yes, I have been slacking off on grinding. I know I have not been eating properly. It comes with the territory of being an office drone alright? 

But the serum also makes an important point. Death Sense has not deactivated. That means I am not in the clear. 

"Introducing ...... the Sacred Cows!" the emcee blares and a line of completely nude muscular men march out on to the stage. Disco music plays over the club's sound system, pumping out an aorta shattering beat. The nudists stand with arms akimbo, displaying their bodies to the crowd. The women shriek in excitement and begin waving wads of money high in the air. Lots of big spenders here. All this confirms my suspicion that Valks are overpaid. 

The bartender makes his way up on the stage and hands each nudist a shot glass. As the bartender passes down the line, the nudists give a mock military salute, standing at attention. Once the last nudist has received his shot glass, the nudist regiment spread their legs and begin masturbating in tune with the disco beat. The women begin stamping their feet to the rhythm of the strokes levied on to the nudists' rapidly swelling dicks. 

"Unit, aim!" the emcee shouts with deranged glee. The nudists grab their dicks, squeezing their organs in time with the music and leveling their members at the shot glasses in their other hand. I slink further away from the stage. As a guy, I find this all deeply troubling and humiliating, but there's a kind of morbid entertainment somewhere within the whole thing as well. 

"Shit!" I shout as I feel a pinch on my ass. I spin around angrily and see a red headed woman with long curly tresses smiling cheekily at me. 

"Into men huh?" the red head asks. I remember her. She was standing right behind me in the queue outside while the rapefugee was giving Jas and I a hard time. There's a friendly but somewhat predatory expression on her face. The kind a playful tiger would have. Its all fun and games, even if someone gets hurt. 

Especially if someone gets hurt.

"What? No!" I deny, "I'm here because of the Captain. He wanted to visit Madam."

"Yeah, sure." the red head smirks, "Whatever you say."

"That's right. Whatever I say." I dully reply and concentrate on Death Sense. No malice from the red head in front of me. None at all. I breathe a sigh of relief. That's one possibility scratched off the list at least. 

"You here for the Sacred Cows?" I ask and the red head rolls her eyes in response. 

"FIRE!" the emcee yells as the Sacred Cows do whatever cows do after a good milking. The crowd goes wild and the bartender begins mixing drinks with the special ingredient in them. 

"As if." the red head snorts as she opens her purse, showing me a thick stack of bills within, "Danger pay and performance bonus just came in. I'm here for the premium stock, not the B Listers."

"Not interested in getting a drink?" I quiz, while watching the bartender exchange the, uh, 'enhanced' cocktails for the wads of cash the women are waiving in front of the counter. 

"The flower sale is next." the red head explains, "I need to hold on to all my cash for that. Its Sammie by the way."

"Huh?" I frown, not getting what the red head is trying to say. 

"My name. Its Sammie." the red head quirks an eyebrow at me, "And yours, Mr Auxilia who is not interested in men?"

"Don." I extend an arm for a handshake. Sammie grabs it vigorously, laughing all the while. 

"God. I never expected to be shaking hands with a man at Loveless." her eyes twinkling with mirth, "Its usually more physical."

"You're easily amused at least." I mutter, watching a waiter push a tray loaded with drinks and snacks into the VIP room Jas and Madam are in. How in the world is any of this due diligence? In which dimension is getting drunk with your sister in law count as doing an investigation?

"And now," the emcee booms dramatically as the Sacred Cows clear off the stage, "the moment you have all been waiting for. The flower sale!" Waiters begin to troop out into the hall, carrying trays loaded with plastic roses. 

"Why plastic?" I muse. 

"Money can't by real love, Mr Auxilia." Sammie answers sadly, "Its even in the club's name. Loveless."

"First up, the man of your dreams," the emcee announces, "Rrrrreeeexxxxx!"

"No way." I mutter as I muscle bound cat man enters the stage, striking a pose, letting the disco lights play across his oiled body, "A beast man. A rapefugee." So yeah, beast people are a thing in this dimension. They really took it on the chin during the wars with the Coalition and the Fallen though. Most of their habitats were destroyed in the fighting. Still being destroyed if the stories I've heard are true. 

Women begin shoving money at the waiters and grabbing the plastic roses in exchange. The roses are then pressed into the arms of the cat man, while the emcee silently keeps count. Finally, the emcee points decisively to the woman who had handed in the most number of plastic roses and the cat man hops of the stage into the victor's embrace. 

"I hope I have enough." Sannie murmurs as she counts the cash in her handbag again. 

"What happens to the losing bids?" I ask. The cat man is certainly not giving any money back. 

"Burned. This is Club Loveless, Mr Auxilia." Sammie explains, "The money is a gift, not payment."

"No wonder the militia hasn't closed this place down for prostitution." I nod, "Convenient that the arrangement helps make the club money as well."

More beast men walk up on stage, one after the other. Is the premium stock made out entirely of beast people? Madam must have strong connections to be getting away with this. One single raid from the militia and the entire premium stock would be hauled away as rapefugees, even if Madam could prove that they were not actually employed here. How much is she paying in hush money every month?

"Jaaaaaccckkkkksoooonnnn!" the emcee trills as a wolf man struts up on stage, his grey tail swishing seductively as he looks over the assembled crowd with bedroom eyes. 

"Wish me luck." Sammie says as she walks away, "Don't arrest me later for hiring an illegal alien, Mr Auxilia."

She heads directly towards a waiter and dumps the contents of her handbag into his tray. The waiter hands Sammie a large bunch of plastic flowers in return, which she promptly deposits into Jackson's waiting arms. Its by far the largest bunch of roses he has received so far, and Sammie's face is flush with anticipation and excitement. Just as the emcee is about the declare the winner, a youthful voice pipes up. 

"Wait!" a young girl shouts and gestures at the waiters. As the waiters approach the girl, she opens a luggage suitcase by her side, dumping a mountain of cash on to the floor. As everyone is stunned into silence, the girl walks up to Jackson and grabs him by the collar fastened to his neck while giving Sammie a challenging look. A subtle look of dislike flashes on Jackson's face for a moment before he schools his features back to neutrality. 

Death Sense suddenly begins acting up again and my attention is forcibly brought to a corner of the hall, where a group of staff are discreetly leaving the premises. Then I notice something else. I recognize the young girl. She's the bloody harpy who was harassing me at the office earlier about using my transmission tower. 

No way a Valk can afford to splash money like that. Olivia was right. The harpy must come from a wealthy family or is the daughter of someone important. Sammie looks down in defeat as the emcee declares the harpy the winner of this round of bidding. 

"Let's go." Jas's voice disrupts my ruminations as he walks up to me. Madam stands by the door of the VIP room, looking on expressionlessly at the harpy leading Jackson out of the club.

"It was nice, catching up with Madam." Jas says the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath, "You should have stayed Don and had some fun with us."

"Yeah. Next time maybe." I reply noncommittally. But Jas raises a good point. Maybe its time for some fun after all?

I tune in to Death Sense once more. Danger is certain but low. At least that's what the serum insists on telling me. I appear to have evaded the worst of the danger by not hanging out with Madam in the VIP room. Should I tell Jas about my suspicions as well?

As the words form on my tongue, a loud protest hollers down my veins, the blood showing its displeasure at the proposed course of action. Of course. Telling Jas would mean no opportunity to grind. I feel heavy with anticipation, as if I am at a threshold. I can breakthrough, but I need the experience all to myself. So just let things take their natural course, yes? 

Jas wouldn't appreciate the opportunity in front of us anyway. So let's go.

And have some fun.