Between bathroom breaks and Donatello and Apollo arguing along the way, it’s sunset when we cross the first sign to Hiram. We’re close, at least. Soon enough, we enter a tunnel, descending into the earth. Yellow lights brighten the walls until we reach a toll. Donatello rolls his window down, and I wince, waiting for the sun to burn him, but we’re still underground. Donatello shows some ID, and the official (who looks as human as every casino bouncer I’ve ever met) lets us in.
“Pretty sure we could have found a mage on the surface,” Apollo grunts.
“We could,” Donatello replies, not even bothering to face the other. “But the job wouldn’t be free, and they wouldn’t be forced into silence by the deal.”
I shoot Apollo an amused glance. Donatello’s right this time around, but Apollo won’t ever say so. Something tells me the two will have ongoing relationship problems as long as we stick together. It makes me wonder for how long we are staying close.
Donatello drives past the toll, and we leave across another short space before we arrive at the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. I peer out of the window, merely curious, but my eyes almost pop out of their sockets.
It looks like it’s night here, but I understand we’re still underground. The sky looks pitch black, but there’s so much to look at, you don’t miss the sun. Skyscrapers stretch their metal bodies toward the darkness, all slick metal, shiny mirrors, and bright neon lights. The light down here is not merely yellow or white bulbs but soft neons, pastel blues and purples illuminating the city.
It’s totally different from everything I’ve ever seen, and it’s beautiful. My jaw literally drops.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Donatello asks from the front seat. He keeps the window rolled down, his arm hanging on the outside.
“Very,” I reply, out of breath. “I’ve never heard of this place.”
“Norms aren’t encouraged to know much about supes,” Apollo offers, also looking out the window. “In case they come around and end up becoming prey.”
I swallow hard, looking at him. “Do people do that?”
“A lot,” Donatello agrees. “There was a vampire craze some years ago. People camped outside the toll, wanting to come inside and meet their vampiric happily ever after. Not very safe.”
“Wow, that’s dumb,” I point out. The vampire craze had been a sensation, but I thought it didn’t escape the human realm. To think some people begged vampires to bite them is ludicrous.
“Agreed,” Donatello says, shrugging. “We have rules now. Non-vampires only get in with an accountable vampire. You also have to be over a hundred to guarantee you know what you’re doing.”
“So people can still bring humans inside?” I gasp.
Apollo points at my window, and I follow the direction. A tall man, covered in a fur coat and so much bling he glints under the lights walks down the sidewalk with a girl hanging to each of his arms. They look younger than me, barely eighteen. “What am I supposed to see?” I ask him.
“That’s a common sight,” Donatello says, taking a turn. “Rich vampire with young human girls, willing to do anything to get immortality.”
“That’s a thing?” My eyes go round.
“That’s a thing,” Donatello says with finality as he drives into an underground parking lot. I wonder how far we are from the surface and how famous the Chosen One was here in Hiram. I bet they won’t even mind I’m around. He was a mage, not a vampire, after all.
Donatello parks and I exit the car releasing a huge, dramatic sigh. I stretch my arms over my head and hear my spine popping, then I remember I’m in a dress, and the fabric is riding too high for comfort. I put my arms down and tug on the hem.
Apollo cocks his head to me, eyes that silky color of gold. “Please, don’t,” he teases, eyes on my naked legs, glinting in appreciation.
I straighten up, smiling at him. It’s nice to be admired for a change. “Like what you see?”
“You can’t imagine how much.” His voice lowers now, and he takes a step closer. It’s not even a big step, but his body leans closer to mine, and the mere action makes my skin warm. It’s lust through proximity. A knot lodges itself in my throat as my nipples tighten. And he hasn’t even done anything.
Yet.
Donatello reaches us and motions for an elevator. “Let’s go up to my place.” He shoots me a smile. “You must be dying for proper rest.”
I shake my head. “Not really. That nap in the car was enough for now.”
We take the elevator together, and because Apollo’s so huge, he turns the space into a sardine tin. I’m smashed between his rock-hard body and the sinewy muscles of Donatello. My face warms, but I do my best to pretend I’m not affected by their presence so close to me. Their warm breaths touch my cheeks, my neck. Apollo’s warmth licks along my body, and the scent of both mix and match, intoxicating me.
I take full breaths, looking up. No cameras. They could take me right here if they wanted to. I jerk in surprise at my imagination. Not one or the other, but both. Apollo’s fingers gripping my hair, his hot mouth searing my lips, Donatello’s cold digits stroking up my thigh, reaching for my core...
My panties grow slick. Apollo makes a sound deep in his throat that leaves no doubt — he can smell me. He wasn’t lying when he said he had a good nose. My cheeks warm further.
The elevator door dings open. I jump out first, then have to whirl around and make my way back to the opposite side of the corridor, where Donatello presses his thumb to a digital lock. Fancy. I live well with all the money I make from poker but never thought about getting one of these.