Free Forsaken: A Fallen Siren Novella by S.J. Harper

matter. I start walking. Cerberus remains by my side, vigilant, alert. “Because your loyalty rivals the Hellhounds’ that guard Hades gates. Let’s go, partner, this is going to be one entrance Eve Devlin will never forget.”

Chapter Seven
    With Cerberus by my side I ring the bell to the side entrance. It’s nondescript, no address, not even a light overhead or alongside. We have to wait only a few seconds before the door opens. The brightness that suddenly floods the streets makes me take a step back. I shield my eyes.
    “I take it you’re the new Domina?” A man with the stature of a body-builder fills the door. He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo. He’s obviously expecting me, but his eyes reflect surprise then trouble upon seeing the wolf. “We don’t allow dogs inside.”
    Cerberus bares his teeth.
    “He doesn’t come in, I don’t come in.” I glance down and in a clipped tone say, “Behave yourself.”
    The wolf sits, lowers his head in deference to my command.
    “We’re a team,” I add.
    “Miss Eve isn’t going to like this,” he says with a frown, then steps back so we can enter.
    I flash him a brazen smile. “She’s going to love what we can do for her clients.”
    The man leads us down a dark hall, through a door, then up a short flight of stairs. At the top, he pauses before sweeping aside a thick, velvet curtain. On the other side is a reception area with a hostess stand and a coatroom. The floors are marbled, the walls wood paneled. To the left is a room with a long bar, reminiscent of one I used to frequent at the Waldorf back when I last worked in New York. That seems like a lifetime ago.
    It was a lifetime ago.
    The bar area is filled with leather sofas and chairs. Large oriental rugs warm the room. There are bookcases and racks containing newspapers, undoubtedly from around the world. There’s a bartender behind the bar. Two gentlemen occupy chairs, one smoking a pipe. Beyond that I glimpse a dining room, its tables covered with crisp white cloths, fine china, and delicate crystal.
    “This way,” my guide says, leading me past the hostess.
    The lithe blonde barely spares me a glance. Her attention is drawn instead to my wolf. She bends over burying her face in the top of his head, giving him a scratch behind his ears and a nice view of her ample breasts.
    “Cerberus,” I say. “Come!”
    He breaks away and follows at my heels. “Speaking of names, I didn’t get yours,” I say to the back of my escort.
    “Nigel,” he replies.
    “Seriously?” I ask him.
    He pauses in front of a large double door. “You can call me Duke.” He raps twice, then turns the knob.
    In the center of the office, a woman sits behind a Queen Anne desk made of mahogany, her face obscured by a fall of dark hair, paging through what looks like an old ledger. Is that the ledger Maitlan wanted Zack to steal? Perhaps. She doesn’t bother to look up when we enter. Which is fine by me. It gives me a chance to check out the room. The walls are a dark green. Tall windows, framed in taupe velvet, look out onto the street. Two chairs in matching upholstery are positioned in front of the desk.
    “Take a seat,” she says absently, turning her attention toward a computer monitor. “Domina Sirena, is it?”
    Finally I have her full attention.
    “Cerberus, lay,” I say softly.
    The wolf curls up at the base of my feet.
    Eve rises. Hands on her desk, she leans over to take in the view. “Mistress Darkness said nothing about a dog.”
    “Wolf,” I say. “I can assure you, he’s completely under my control. A model of obedience.”
    The dark hair is sprinkled with gray. Her face round, cheeks full. The makeup is subtle. The clothing is classic, black slacks and turtleneck sweater. Eve Devlin isn’t a flamboyant madam, dripping sex. Nor is she a glamorous society woman. She’s all business. Her steel blue eyes fix upon me with the intensity of a laser. Her lips press into a frown.
    “Is he really