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

a full-blood wolf?”
    I nod. “Arctic wolf.”
    “You say he’s tame, yet you’ve named him after a Hellhound,” she says.
    “I said he’s obedient, within my control. I wouldn’t call him tame.” I reach down, give Cerberus a scratch behind the ears. Her eyes follow my left hand. I reach into the top of one boot with my right and palm the bug.
    Eve takes her seat once again. “So, you and Jennifer met where?”
    “Sarah Lawrence,” I say, matter-of-factly. “We both majored in anthropology.”
    Her face remains stoic. “Is that right?”
    I cross my legs, lean back in my chair. “I went on and got my masters in archeology at UCLA. Just accepted a day job as a conservationist at the Natural History Museum.”
    She leans forward in her chair. “And yet you’re here.”
     “Living in the city is expensive and I have school loans to pay. Plus…” My eyes connect with hers. “I enjoy the work.”
    She picks up a pen. “Your real name?”
    “Patrice Carney,” I say.
    It’s scribbled into the book.
    “Address?”
    I ramble off Jennifer’s.
    The book closes with a snap.
    “Are you a police officer?”
    “Yes, I’m an FBI agent.” My tone is flat as I climb to my feet. I position one hand on her desk, use the opportunity to curl the fingers of the other underneath the top and place the bug. “Cerberus here is my partner. An ancestor of his was cursed. Now three nights a week he turns into a wolf. I’d show you our ID’s, but we didn’t count on needing them to get into your dungeon. Are we going to do this or not?”
    For the first time, Eve smiles. Her eyes roam my body. “I like you. Your first client is waiting downstairs.”
    She picks up the phone on her desk, punches a few numbers. “Nigel, please come back and escort Domina Sirena to level two, dungeon six.” She hands me an iPad. “Louis is new. Here’s his profile. You also have a nine o’clock. Since you’re late, I suggest you give Louis something a little special. You’ll leave that with Nigel at the end of the night. He’ll pay you. In cash of course. Any questions.”
    I pick up my bag and head for the door, iPad in hand, wolf at my heels. “Not my first rodeo,” I reply.
    “Obviously not,” I hear her murmur.
    * * * *
    Level two turns out to be the lowest level of a basement that looks like it might span the entire building. Nigel hands me a key and lifts his chin. “Down that hall. Number 6. He’s waiting.”
    The floor is covered in stone, as are the walls. My boots click loudly as I make my way down the hall. I scan the information Eve provided on Louis, no last name listed. Profession: Self-Employed. I make note of his safe word, his list of no-goes. There are to be no marks on his body when he leaves. No cutting. No needles or hooks. Claustrophobic? No. What does he want? To be restrained, at my mercy. He sent some photos depicting mummification. Perfect.
    I slide the skeleton key into the lock and then push open the door.
    “About time!” Louis calls out. He’s young, mid-twenties. Dressed in baggy jeans and a black T-shirt.
    I drop my bag on the floor then stride over to him, swing my arm back, and slap his face, hard.
    His eyes widen.
    “You’ll speak when spoken to. You’ll get attention from me when I want to give it. Understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, Domina!” I bark. “Say it.”
    “Yes, Domina,” he repeats, lowering his head. His shoulder length dark hair falls in front of his green eyes. When I say nothing more, he glances up briefly. The eyes flick to the wolf, then back down again.
    Even in the dim light of the dungeon, I recognize the young man. His poster is plastered on the walls of millions of teenaged girls worldwide. His concerts are sellouts. He has a clothing line and a new reality TV show. He’s been in and out of rehab. Perhaps now he’s looking for a new high.
    “Strip. Do it quickly.” I’m aware that the clock is ticking.
    The lad pulls off his T-shirt in one fluid