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Playing with Fire (18+ GT Drama / Horror)

Premise: Sequel to Heart of Gold. Sherry navigates a vicious life teeming with cruel and lustful giants eager to get their hands on her. The only lifeline within reach is the person who sealed her fate.

Warning: Graphic descriptions of sexual assault, violence, and dehumanization in a GT context. This is not intended to be fetish material; commenting on it as such will result in an immediate block.

Print/Trinket Universe and characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5 / @little-miss-maggie, who made the sick header image <3

(( Read Heart of Gold here ))

(( More from the Print/Trinket Universe ))

"I already told you, I'm done. Delete my number."

"One last time, Sher, please. You can't turn your back on me now."

"What'd you do this time?"

"I just... I need you here. Please. I know how we left things. I understand if you never wanna see me again, but I need your help. This is the last time I'll ever bother you, I swear."

Tears drenched Sherry's face. Her attempts to drift away from her current hell led her down the most miserable memories. She wasn't sure which was worse: revisiting the moment she ruined her life, or being present enough to confront her ruined life.

A voice huffed overhead, forcing her to choose the latter. "Stop crying already. Fuck."

But Sherry couldn't stop. She didn't have a clue what was happening or why. All she knew was that she was pinned to a cold metal table while a human woman tried to fit a gold collar over her head.

Agent Taylor. That was what her badge said.

The cabinet doors had flown open at Zane's place, and the reaper's cold eyes had filled the space. Her grasping hands wrecked the makeshift shelter while she thwarted Sherry and Adam's pitiful attempts to bolt out of reach. They had been dumped into a glass cage and then separated before they reached their final destination.

Adam was nowhere to be seen. Was he being forced into a collar somewhere else? And what about Odessa? She had not been caged with them. Maybe because she had been captured by a different reaper.

"Please," Sherry whimpered, twisting her head side to side to avoid the collar. "W-what are you doing? Why am I here?"

Taylor wound Sherry's teal hair around one fingertip and tugged so sharply that Sherry screamed. The back of her head slammed against the table, making the world turn fuzzy. She squinted through the blinding fluorescent lights to see the reaper's annoyed expression hanging over her.

"Stop squirming, or I'll snap your pretty little neck, you hear me?" Taylor looked down at her with disgust. "I don't have a clue why Mitchell insisted on keeping a whiner like you, but you should be grateful. The best thing a trinket can hope to be is a snake."

"A-A... what?"

Fingertips viciously groped Sherry's neck until she held still enough for the perfect gold circle to slip over her head. The invasive hands pulled away finally. Panting, Sherry sat up and felt her collar all around, intending to yank it off. Impossibly, it retracted to a smaller size and settled snugly around her neck. There was no clasp to be found. Smart metal—the kind that was used on tracking cuffs for prints. Since when was such expensive material used on trinkets?

Feeling like she couldn't draw a full breath, Sherry whimpered and clawed at the collar. She felt the thin engraving of an inscription etched along the metal, but she was not interested in deciphering it.

"Don't bother." A hand swept Sherry into a fist, pinning her arms awkwardly against her body. "Mess with it too much, and it'll choke you out before you can even think to regret it."

Sherry trembled in the woman's grasp—not only from fear, but from the shock of being handled so roughly. She had been spoiled by Zane's consideration and careful touches, even if he had turned out to be a lying bastard in the end. Hours ago, she had felt like a real person, and already it seemed like a fever dream to ignore what she really was.

Trinket. Criminal. Doll. Prisoner.

She was whisked out of the small, blinding room and taken into what appeared to be the main hub of a police station. Sherry shivered harder than ever. The giants typing away at computers and chatting around the desks were not regular cops. These were reapers, government agents specifically tasked with the repossession of wayward prints and trinkets.

Although she fit the category of wayward trinket, she figured she would have been shipped straight to a facility to be redistributed to another bar. Maybe a brothel as punishment for her misguided attempts to be rescued by the rebellion. Why was she still here?

"New snake?" boomed an unfamiliar voice. A reaper passing by Agent Taylor eyed Sherry like a choice cut. She shrank away from his stare, which only seemed to encourage him. He stopped to reach out and brush a finger over her hair. "Where'd you nab this one?"

"Some barfly who can't get his story straight about whether he's black market or rebellion." Taylor made no move to thwart the other reaper from lifting Sherry's chin to see her tear-soaked face better. "Either way, the truth will come out. We got taped confirmation about a meet-up tomorrow at noon."

The guy whistled, finally pulling his hand away. "A confession and a follow-up location? Lemme guess. Odessa?"

"Who else?"

The mention of Odessa's name made Sherry perk up, but the conversation ended before she could make sense of what had been said. She'd been too preoccupied about being petted like a captive mouse.

Taylor took her to the center of the station. What Sherry saw made her stomach churn. A glass labyrinth of trinket-sized rooms sat atop a huge table. There were faint lines of translucent circuits within the walls that suggested it was no ordinary glass. There was no ceiling on the enclosure, as though a pet store had decided to set up shop in the middle of the government establishment.

"Welcome home," Taylor said derisively. "For however long you last. We call this the Warren."

The longer Sherry stared at the enclosure, the sicker she felt. There were over a dozen rooms. The walls offered no privacy, other than one cubicle that had sheets thrown up over the sides for some reason—but it still lacked a ceiling. There were doorways, but no doors. None of the openings provided a path onto the table. No exits. The only way a trinket could leave was if a human plucked them out.

Sherry was released into one of the cubicles, which looked like a rough draft of a bedroom. She backed up against the wall, shivering. She eyed the doorway, but with a reaper glaring down at her, there was no point in making a run for it. Her trembling legs were hard to convince.

Blessedly, Agent Taylor turned her attention to a tablet that lay beside the Warren and tapped away at it. "Name?"

Flinching, Sherry clutched her hands close to herself and stared up blankly.

"Tell me a name, or I'll pick one for you." Taylor's eyes flickered to her. "You look like a 'Diva' to me."

"Sh—" She swallowed a sob. "Sherry."

Taylor made a noise of ridicule under her breath. Perhaps like Zane, she didn't believe that was her real name and that it was really what she had been saddled with when being passed around at a bar. Whatever she thought, the reaper typed something into the tablet. Circuits along the wall flickered, and Sherry's name appeared in translucent letters on the wall by the doorway. It was then she noticed that the other rooms had names, too. The one across from hers was Raquel.

Despite her best judgment, Sherry couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Tell me what's happening," she said, hating the pathetic note of pleading in her voice. "Please. I... I don't understand."

She had never begged as a trinket. Not at the facility. Not at the bar. Not when she was worried that Zane's impossibly gentle touch was fake. But she had been able to make some sense out of those situations. For the life of her, she could not pinpoint what she had done to end up in the Warren with Agent Taylor leering down at her.

The reaper, forthcoming as ever, gave her a barbed smirk. "Do a good job, and you'll be rewarded. Do a shitty job, and you'll be at the mercy of that new necklace of yours. Do a particularly shitty job, and you won't even get that mercy. We'll leave you to the wolves to do as they please. Simple as that."

There was nothing simple about it.

Agent Taylor tossed the tablet onto the table and strode off without telling Sherry what her job was.

For a few minutes, Sherry couldn't do more than stand in one spot while her thoughts reeled. The moment it sank in that nothing stopped her from walking through the doorway of her assigned room, she stepped out. The glass walls were so clean, she might have walked right into a few if not for the pale circuits within.

She came across three other trinkets in her tentative exploration of the Warren. None were helpful. A couple of them were sleeping in their own rooms, and one was sitting on the floor in a central hub area.

He stared up at a news channel playing on a wallscreen that was embedded into the glass. Sherry didn't even realize they made screens so miniature, let alone that there were any systems in place that allowed trinkets to use them. It felt like a twisted, sanitized version of Zane's makeshift trinket hideout.

"Hi?" Sherry said, her voice thready. She stopped a few feet from him. No, inches. Inches. "Can you tell me what's going on here? What is this place? W-what do they want with us?"

He didn't look away from the screen. Didn't say a word.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Please... I-I have no idea—"

"You'll figure it out," he grunted. "Or maybe you won't. We don't bother each other around here, I'll tell you that much." He gave her a razor-sharp glance that told her it was time to stop bothering him.

She retreated back to her room and hugged herself on the bed. That's all there was. No pillow, no sheets. She had glimpsed a few other rooms. Most were fairly simple, but others were adorned with extra accommodations. More pillows, thicker blankets, extra furniture, a box packed with clothes. A couple even had their own wallscreens.

All around the outside the Warren, the reaper station went on business as usual. Footsteps thudded back and forth past the enclosure, but despite Sherry's instinct to duck down out of sight, no one seemed to give the trinkets more than a passing glance. As if the glass cage was no more out of place than a light fixture.

Although intense confusion continued to plague her thoughts, her adrenaline waned and exhaustion crept in. She absently felt along her collar to trace the letters and numbers. C117.

Without realizing she had curled up on her side, she fell into a fitful sleep.

She couldn't be sure how long she had laid there by the time heavy footsteps rattled the floors and walls, closer than before. Sherry jolted in bed, but she kept her head down. She debated on whether it would be a better idea to sit up or pretend to be asleep. A shiver ran through her at the thought that a person was towering over the Warren, looking down at her.

A familiar voice silenced her internal debate—a voice that didn't belong to a massive reaper.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know."

Odessa.

Sitting up, Sherry almost tripped over her own feet as she scrambled for the doorway. She gripped the glass edge and looked high up. The reaper who had approached was still there. A cold spike of recognition ran through Sherry as she examined his icy blue eyes and dark hair. He had raided Zane's place along with Agent Taylor. Currently, he held Odessa in a fist and glared at her.

"Well, someone must have tipped them off," he snapped. "We've gone over the recording a dozen times—there's nothing left up to interpretation. A distributor was supposed to be there at noon. Are you sure there wasn't some change of plan? Did he ever look at his phone as if he received a message? Because I'm still feeling pretty fucking suspicious about how long it took for you to boot up your tracker."

Despite being trapped in a gigantic grip, Odessa didn't cower. That was strange. She had been so skittish around Zane, and here this reaper was raising his voice at her.

"I wouldn't have gotten the confession at all if you all had busted in any earlier," Odessa spat. "It's not my fault the distributor didn't show up. Maybe some neighbor spotted Zane being arrested and passed the info along. Could be that you all weren't subtle enough. Instead of asking me, why don't you ask Zane?"

The reaper scoffed. "Haven't been able to get another word out of him. He's already on the docket for trial. Let's see if he's so quiet during his follow-up interrogation at three inches tall."

The hand holding Odessa plunged and deposited her in a nearby hall of the Warren. Overwhelmed by the appearance of a friendly face, Sherry bottled from her doorway. Seconds after the hand retreated, she flung her arms around Odessa and held on tight.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Sherry gasped.

Odessa stiffened, but after a moment, she hugged Sherry back. "It's okay," she said softly. "Everything's going to be okay."

"I-I thought I'd be alone here. I heard what Zane said about being with the black market. I knew it. But they won't tell me what's going on here! What are they making you do? Zane just barely got you last night—how can they expect you to know anything about what he was up to?"

A laugh boomed from above, effectively reminding Sherry that they were being watched. She cowered, but Odessa seemed more annoyed than frightened as she held Sherry close. The glare she aimed upward looked like it had been bred in a blizzard.

"Oh, that's just precious," the reaper said, bracing his hands on the table to lean down closer to them. "You sure picked a bright one, didn't you, Odessa? Poor thing hasn't even put two and two together, has she?"

Sherry looked from his looming face to Odessa's icy expression. "What's he talking about?" Sherry asked.

Odessa sighed. "Let me explain—"

"Allow me," the reaper laid in overtop. The cruel amusement in his eyes should have been reserved for a kid frying ants with a magnifying glass. "Sherry, is it? Well, Odessa is the reason you were dragged from that cute little hideaway in the cupboard. I mean, if we hadn't stepped in, you'd be up for bid on the black market. But still. You were rounded up thanks to our expert two-faced bitch here. I suggest you start thinking of her as your new role model if you want to make it through your first week."

Sherry's desperate arms went slack. She wriggled out of Odessa's protective embrace. "He's... he's lying," Sherry said. "Tell me he's lying!"

But Odessa did not attempt to deny any of it. Fury and a sense of utter loneliness exploded through Sherry so violently that she nearly collapsed. Spotting this, Odessa caught her arms and kept her standing despite Sherry's protests.

"Fuck off, Mitchell," Odessa snarled. "Why don't you go figure out the Zane situation before the captain mounts your head on the wall?"

Agent Mitchell was still chuckling as he straightened to his full, dizzying height. "Better start explaining things to her quick. She'll be out in the field before you know it."

Odessa locked her hand in Sherry's and led her away. Still in shock, Sherry allowed herself to be taken. There was a room with Odessa's name displayed on the outside. If Sherry had only explored a little further, she would have saved herself a few precious moments of humiliation. Even more mind-boggling, this was the room with sheets thrown over the walls.

As they entered, Sherry's eyes widened. Odessa had more possessions than anyone she had seen so far.

"Sit." Odessa led her to a dollhouse chair against the wall.

Sherry ripped her hand away and glared, making no move to obey. Her throat was too tight with tears and anger to say all the things racing through her mind. Odessa took her by the shoulders and made her sit.

"Listen up." Odessa's fingers stayed perched firmly on Sherry's shoulders. They were nearly nose-to-nose. "I'm going to explain my job. Our job. Are you listening? When a human is suspected of stealing prints or trinkets, the best way to find everyone they've stolen is to send in a snake. That's us."

"That's you," Sherry protested, her voice a mere croak.

"No. It's us. Whether you like it or not, you have to understand right here and now that there's no choice, Sherry. Either you comply, or they'll send you somewhere worse."

Sherry shook her head. "You said or. Sure sounds like there's a choice in there somewhere."

"Not when one of the choices is a fucking stupid one." Odessa knelt by the chair and looked up at Sherry, taking her hand. A display of vulnerability meant nothing when it came from a professional liar. "I saved you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but this is the best thing I could've done for you."

"My collar disagrees." Sherry yanked her hands away, glaring daggers at Odessa's imploring expression. "If we're being set out as bait to catch these people, we're still ending up in bars. How is this any better?"

"The difference is that you'll be saved if you do your job right. You'll have a bed to sleep in. Food to eat. Moments of actual rest. Those other trinkets out in the world... They have nothing. They're dead."

"Oh, this is what you call living?"

Odessa pursed her lips, patience wearing thin. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it and say it's easy. It's the hardest job you'll ever have to do, but it's a job. You're not a doll or a sex toy or decoration anymore."

"You're right," Sherry spat. "I'm all those things at once, just depends on who the reapers plan to target, huh? Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong," Odessa said simply, rising to stand in front of Sherry with her arms crossed tightly. "I'm expected to teach you what to do. So if you want to survive, I suggest you listen up."

Sherry scowled and clenched her hands on her lap, but she listened.

"Depending on the target, you need to tailor your personality to be tantalizing but believable. Some of these creeps have wizened up, or at least know that the reapers have a few tricks up their sleeves at this point. You just need to be something they want to take home with them. Whether it's for personal, black market, or rebellion reasons."

A sour look crossed Sherry's face. "So, that scared girl thing you did at Zane's place... that was just a routine to get him to nab you?"

Odessa scoffed. "Zane was hardly worth the effort. But then again, bar jobs are usually the easiest. The reapers work with the staff to make sure a snake gets served to the target. Those jobs are the most common. I'm sure that's what they'll assign you at first."

"And what about Adam?" Sherry said when he occurred to her suddenly. "Why isn't here, getting this informative seminar with me?"

"There's no way I could convince Mitchell to take you both."

"So... I'm just the lucky one you chose, then?"

"Luck had nothing to do with it." Odessa glanced away, frowning as if she was still processing her own decision. "I've never asked them to bring in a new snake before. But you were convincing when you hid your suspicions from Zane. Convincing enough that I know you'll be good at this job."

Before Sherry could help it, her eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to be good at this job."

"Sher... I'm giving you something that didn't have before tonight. I'm giving you the power to take control instead of staying a helpless victim." Odessa leaned in closer and put her hands on Sherry's shoulders again, squeezing. "Lesson one. Never cry unless it benefits you."

One last time, Sher, please. You can't turn your back on me now.

Rage flooded over the fear. Sherry sprang to her feet and shoved Odessa to the ground, catching her off guard. "You're a fucking monster! Just as bad as Zane, and these reapers, and all the other psychos out there who can't keep their disgusting hands off trinkets!"

A shadow darkened over them. Mitchell seemed to materialize out of nowhere, his voice rumbling with dangerous amusement. "Well, well, trouble in paradise?"

Sherry made a choked noise and tripped over the doll chair as his hand dove down for her. She scrambled to kick her legs free of the flimsy furniture, but in no time at all, fingers closed around her body and yanked her out of Odessa's room. He observed her panicked struggles for only a moment before raising his eyebrows at Odessa.

"Guess you forgot to mention in your little orientation that fighting isn't tolerated."

"Back off," Odessa said, brushing herself off. "You've barely given me fifteen minutes with her."

"Hm. Didn't happen to teach her about the collar yet?"

"I was getting to it," Odessa said hurriedly. Her voice jumped in a way that made Sherry's skin crawl with dread.

That was all the answer he needed. He released Sherry on the table's expansive surface outside the Warren, right beside one of Odessa's walls. Odessa tore down one of the hanging sheets, pressing her hands to the glass.

"Just relax!" she ordered Sherry, seeming caught between genuine worry and cold nonchalance in Mitchel's looming presence.

"Oh, stop babying her," he chided, doing nothing to fight a sick smile of anticipation.

Mitchell's hand crowded Sherry again. She backed up frantically, but bumped into the glass, unable to avoid his fingertip as it tapped her collar. He went on conversationally as if she wasn't cowering under his gaze.

"Now, if you're out in the field and need to communicate, put your fingertips on both sides and hold for a few seconds. When you've got a solid enough confession from the target, turn on the tracker by tapping the sides three times." His finger pulled away, but not before dragging it down her shoulder, arm, and leg. "Timing is everything. You'll find that several targets scan for trackers, so be smart about when you activate it. You wouldn't want them to know your little secret."

Once his hand no longer filled her vision, she managed to shudder out the breath she had been holding. She reached for the collar, pursing her lips. He spotted the question on her face and chuckled.

"Why would we give you the power to choose when we come for you? Because we have a neat little failsafe in the event that you try to dodge us. I think you deserve a demonstration."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. The reaper logo was stamped on the back. He set it on the table in front of Sherry, giving her full upside-down view as he moved through screen after screen until he came upon a list of codes and names. He stopped and tapped on one of the pairs.

C117 - Sherry

Before she could process how quickly her identity had been synced in the reaper station, she couldn't breathe.

A cry squeaked past her throat. She coughed and tried to pry her fingertips under her collar as it constricted against her neck. Panic seized her. She fell to her knees and writhed uselessly, certain that the metal would decapitate her in its rapid compression against her windpipe.

Odessa's voice sounded far away. "You made your point, now quit it!"

"Just showing her what happens if she gets any bright ideas," Mitchell drawled.

He tapped his device. The collar sprang back to its normal, snug fit. Bracing one hand on the table, he leaned in closer to get a better look as Sherry put herself back together. Gasping, she managed to stand shakily.

"That's for trying to rough up my favorite snake," he told her in a low, dangerous voice. "If you don't turn on your tracker while you're on a job, it starts a little slower than that. You won't even notice at first. Like a frog in boiling water. Just don't even think about activating the tracker until you've recorded some evidence or found some hoarded inventory. You got it?"

Sherry stood there and trembled, reeling to process the way he referred to smuggled people as inventory.

His hand slammed down beside her and sent a shockwave that knocked her off her feet. She looked straight up as he put his face inches from her.

"I said, you got it?" Mitchell barked.

"Y-yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yessir!" She nodded frantically and pressed her back against the glass that separated her from Odessa, who looked on with wide, furious eyes.

"You done?" Odessa demanded of Mitchell. "Already collected plenty of material to jack off to later, don't you think?"

He smirked. "You know me so well."

In one smooth motion, he straightened and plucked up Sherry before she could think to be startled by it. He deposited her in Odessa's room, where she fell to her hands and knees. She didn't pause for a single second—she sprang to stand. Bolting from the room, she headed for her own, empty one. Mitchell's leer followed her path effortlessly, still laughing and watching when she reached her destination.

"Expect your first assignment tomorrow, new girl," he said. "Hope you'll leave a good review about orientation."

"I can't take this anymore. Why can't you just... just stop!"

"You don't understand, Sher. If we don't keep splitting it between us, I... You know what'll happen to me. Is that what you want? It is, isn't it? Then you'd be rid of me for good. Fucking finally, right?"

"Don't say that!"

The feeling in Sherry's gut was so familiar, it hurt like a freshly reopened wound. No matter which body she existed in, the universe demanded she be dragged into something she wanted nothing to do with. No choice but to follow through.

This time there was no family. There was no love, no urge to protect. There was only the will to see another day.

What's the point of seeing another day if this what the days are like?

As she lay in her depressing, issued bed and stared at the ceiling, she sincerely thought of running over to Odessa's room to punch her squarely in the face. Maybe Mitchell would swoop in and let the collar finish her off this time. But Sherry couldn't bring herself to budge. She stayed fixated on the fluorescent lights as the hours of the day dragged on. The lights never turned out—not even at night. Busting people for hoarding prints and trinkets was a twenty-four-hour business, but reapers could go home at the end of their shifts.

In all her waiting, she found herself becoming numb. By the time Agent Mitchell came stomping back to the Warren, she felt ready for whatever horror she was expected to carry out. At least she tried to lie to herself that she was ready. Odessa, a known liar, was certain that Sherry was an excellent one. So maybe she could convince herself.

"Four assignments tonight," Mitchell announced, reading from a tablet. "Odessa, Collin, Miranda, and Sherry."

Through the glass walls, she saw the summoned trinkets making their way to the common area. She followed suit, making sure to be as far away from Odessa as possible as they stood at attention.

Mitchell's gaze settled on Sherry immediately, seeming equal measures curious and amused as he wondered how she would react to carrying out her first job. She dropped her gaze to the floor. If some creep was going to toy with her tonight, the least she could do for herself was not let Mitchell get the ball rolling.

"Don't look so sad, Sherry," he chided. "You've got a bar tonight. Easy."

"I'll take her assignment," Odessa said as if she was commenting about the weather.

Sherry's head shot up to look across at Odessa. The other trinkets were staring too, while Mitchell raised his eyebrows steeply.

"See, that's a problem. Did you miss the part where you have your own job tonight?"

Odessa shrugged. "I'll do both. One after the other. She isn't ready yet, but the jobs need to be done, so I'll do them."

He scoffed. "What's the point of her taking up space here?"

"What space? Look around. Half the rooms are empty. Just give me more time to work with her, and she'll be as much of an asset as I am. You're risking her if you send her out too soon. Think long-term, Mitchell. She'll be worth it."

The reaper thought on it for a second, resting a hand over one of the outer walls and drumming his fingers on it. Looking more amused than ever, he turned his attention back to Sherry.

"And what do you say to that?" he asked her.

More than anything, Sherry wanted to demand what Odessa was playing at. Was this her way of apologizing? Sherry was not used to anyone taking the fall for her, but she stuffed down her shock with a cool look and mimed Odessa's shrug.

"If that's what she wants, you won't hear me complaining," Sherry said.

"Fine by me." Mitchell reached for Odessa. "As long as both jobs get done tonight."

And with that Sherry was left standing alone in the common area as the other snakes were plucked up as well. Dropping the pretense of her disinterest, she drew a deep breath and made a slow path back to her room. Along the way, she saw a couple of other snakes who had not been assigned anything that night. They rolled over in their beds, eyes open. No doubt they had heard the whole thing, but none of them had offered to take on Odessa's extra job.

Sherry spent the day drifting between her room and the common area, trying to block out the sounds of the station around the Warren. It was like existing as a ghost. Feeling real while having no significant impact on the real world.

She stared at the wallscreen as it played the news, but she may as well have been watching a broadcast from Jupiter for all the effect it had on her life. Watching the news from Zane's apartment had filled her with a weak sense of hope—at least, in those times when she could force herself to ignore how suspicious she was of his motives. Here, she was filled with nothing but sorrow, watching as the distant world went on without her.

Odessa had been taken at five in the afternoon. She was returned at four in the morning, looking as exhausted as Mitchell looked pleased. It must have been the end of his shift because he didn't stick around to torment anyone as the returning trinkets staggered to their rooms.

Sherry put up no argument when Odessa leaned in her doorway and beckoned her to follow.

"So... I'm guessing it went well?" Sherry asked once they were in Odessa's room.

She refused to give Odessa the satisfaction of immediately asking why she had taken the second job.

"I was responsible for three arrests." For all the extra privacy of her room, she didn't seem shy at all as she stripped off her skimpy bar outfit. Sherry averted her eyes to the corner as Odessa went on. "The first job was a well-off couple. They had been hoarding trinkets from bars and selling them on the side. Not part of any black market networks. Those are the easiest. They rarely have a clue what they're doing, and it's very obvious. Remember that."

Catching a flash of fabric out of the corner of her eye, Sherry peeked and saw Odessa had thrown on a sunflower dress. She did a double-take. It looked a lot like the one Zane had kept in his storage of trinket clothing.

"Independent sellers are easy," Sherry recited glumly. "And the other?"

"A low ranking distributor on the black market. He was crashing parties that had trinket rentals. Keep this in mind, too—those trinket rental services are the most notorious for losing their inventory. Too many moving pieces and rarely a solid guest list to keep track of."

Sherry nodded, sinking into the dollhouse chair as she tried to process it all. "How did you pull that one off?"

"I was alone. I made myself the easiest one for him to grab. So he did." Odessa leaned against one of the sheeted walls and crossed her arms. Her eyelids looked heavy. "It was hard getting info out of him. See, distributors are usually either batshit crazy or stoic. Still, at the end of the day, what most of them love is to feel powerful. The trick was for me to be awed and skeptical. In the end, he wanted for me to know how much of a badass he was."

Something cold warmed through Sherry as she watched Odessa rub her arms up and down like she was trying to rid herself of a lingering sensation.

"And did they..." Sherry cleared her throat. "I mean, did they touch you?"

Odessa dropped the back of her head to the wall and looked up at the ceiling. "The couple caged me. They weren't interested. The distributor... Well, he was handsy. I had to lure him to get those confessions out of him. A lot of humans are like that. They start getting physical, and their walls come down while they brag. They just need to make it clear how much stronger they are."

Humans. "I'm guessing you weren't human, then?"

Odessa fixed her with a guarded look. "What's got you so curious all the sudden?"

"What's got you so selfless all the sudden, taking my job like that?"

A scoff. "You don't know me enough to be shocked by my choices." She paused, her jaw ticking for a second. "Born and raised in a print community. That's where I get my sunshiney personality."

Sherry tried not to gawk. They had been born in entirely different worlds, and now here they both were, living in a glass cage together.

"Did you try to escape?" Sherry asked.

"To go where? The wild? Nah." Odessa pursed her lips as she reminisced. "It wasn't so bad there. I worked in a local bakery, and I was taken to the city a few days out of the month to pull weeds at a botanical garden."

A little snort escaped Sherry before she could stop it. When Odessa raised her eyebrows in question, Sherry shrugged. "Sorry, I have a hard time picturing you in an apron or surrounded by flowers."

"Well, I did have a different face at the time."

That sobered Sherry up in seconds, but she in no way apologized. "So what happened?"

"This keeper started harassing me when I was old enough to have my own place."

Cocking her head, Sherry waited for more, but Odessa just stared at the ceiling. Her gaze was beginning to look distant. Sherry supposed she could understand that. She stood, walking close enough to see the individual petals on Odessa's sunflower dress.

"Did you get into trouble with him?" she asked softly, as if it mattered at all who heard. "It's the kind of thing you hear about sometimes, you know. Keepers getting handsy with prints and getting no repercussions for it. Finding ways to get them in trouble when they don't reciprocate."

Odessa's eyes snapped to hers. "I killed him."

Sherry took a step back, her blood icing over. Her wide eyes incited a smirk on Odessa's lips.

"You were human, weren't you?" Odessa said. "You may not be as freaked as every other human-turned-trinket I've met, but you've still got that look, that way you carry yourself. Like you used to be on top of the world."

"Oh, please. I was never on top of the world."

"Yes, you were. Consider this. The poorest human is living better than the most well-off print." Still, she paused to think about Sherry's statement. "I'm guessing you didn't leave much behind?"

Taking slow steps back to the doorway, Sherry didn't have the energy to protest the shift of spotlight. The mere inquiry of her old life sent her head spinning along with Odessa's casual confession.

"I left behind plenty," Sherry said, gripping the glass doorway. "I have a twin. Had, I guess. Don't quite look alike anymore. Her name's Mia."

Odessa's poker face remained intact, but Sherry swore she saw a flicker of sympathy. "Since we're sharing, what did a sweet thing like you do to deserve what you got?"

It was Sherry's turn to be amused, though she felt like a cold knife was twisting in her gut as she made her exit. "You think you're hot shit for taking out one creep? You're looking at a convicted serial killer, queen."

"Hey, I'm here. I found your backpack, but where are you?"

"I-I..."

"Hello? Mia?"

"I'm sorry, Sher. I-I'm s-so sorry, I had to, I had to—"

"Whoa, slow down! Why are you crying?"

The next night, Odessa insisted once again on taking Sherry's assignment. And the night after that. And the night after that. Mitchell was apparently determined to saddle them both with jobs every night. The other snakes were granted periodic nights off.

There was no attempt to hide it—Agent Mitchell was thoroughly entertained. On the fifth night, he clicked his tongue and looked down at Odessa with what might have been admiration. "You know, you're this close to pissing me off, but I'm kinda curious how much you'll kill yourself to protect your pet girlfriend."

Being in the clear every night did not win Sherry any friends among the snakes. Then again, none of them seemed overly fond of each other anyway. As far as Sherry knew, she and Odessa were the only ones who visited each other, even if those visits were out of pure survival on Sherry's part.

Odessa returned later and later into the morning every time, burdened with the double assignments. The dark circles under her eyes became a permanent fixture. And yet, her performance in acquiring confessions and finding hoarded trinkets did not seem to wane in the slightest.

"Why not call the reapers earlier?" Sherry asked when she noticed Odessa massaging her neck and grimacing. She was back later than ever, which meant she must have put up with the collar tightening quite a bit.

"Holding off a little bit longer pays off," Odessa explained. Even her voice sounded sore. "More damning confessions. Plus, info on others in their network. I'm sure you've noticed that we're rewarded when we do a good job."

Sherry had noticed.

Odessa's cubicle was the most decked out. The best clothes, the most pillows, the softest blankets. The reapers didn't even bother her about the extra sheets she had tossed over the glass walls, allowing her privacy that the other snakes were denied. She did her job well, and like a prized poodle, she was given treats for it.

The reward system gnawed at Sherry over the next few days, but she had little time to confront Odessa about it. She continued taking Sherry's jobs and took to sleeping the entire time she returned to the Warren. The rage that had first taken over Sherry was slowly but surely flickering down to nothing each time she saw Odessa drag her feet to her room.

Then, out of the clear blue, the snakes were taken outside. Sort of.

They were allowed one hour of outdoor time per week. It turned out to be the necessary amount to keep the majority of them from snapping and killing each other in their sleep.

The seven of them were placed in a glass box that had been fixed outside a window. Naturally, the dreariest day of the week had been chosen. Drizzling rain pattered against the glass, keeping the occupants downcast as ever.

Odessa, for all her exhaustion, seemed the least bothered by it. She sat cross-legged in front of one wall. Her hands were braced on the floor behind her, chin tilted up and eyes shut as if she could feel the sunshine through the compact clouds.

Taking a seat beside her, Sherry curled up and hugged her knees. Instead of looking up, she watched the crawling traffic below. Watching from ten stories up made her feel less small.

"Was I just another reward?" Sherry blurted. "Just something you asked for when you did a good job with Zane?"

Odessa didn't answer.

Sherry sighed sharply. "Why bring me into this? What do you want from me?"

"I dunno, Sher," Odessa murmured finally. "Maybe, for once, I wanted to be around someone who wasn't hand-picked by reapers. Maybe I'm just fucking lonely, and you had enough potential as a snake that I could use it as an excuse to keep you. Or maybe I just think you're cute."

There was no more wrath in Sherry. Only an awful, hollow feeling. "I really am your pet girlfriend, aren't I?"

"You still don't get it. You don't have to be anything to anyone. That's the gift I gave you with this job. You choose the role you want to play. You aren't the prey anymore. You're the hunter. If you don't want me to take your assignments anymore, all you have to do is tell me."

Sherry dug her fingers into her arms, holding herself closer. "Why take my jobs in the first place? You care so much about survival and rewards. You think you're getting in my good graces?"

Odessa was quiet for so long, Sherry thought she wouldn't answer. But then she sighed. "I only meant to take the first job. It would have sucked for you to die on your first assignment. Then you didn't seem ready for the second one. Or the one after. And so on. Now here we are."

"You still don't think I'm ready?"

"You could be." Odessa kept her gaze fixed on the clouds. "Maybe I'm the one who's not ready to imagine someone getting their filthy hands on you. But I gotta say... Being a good liar is one thing. You seem a bit soft for a serial killer."

Sherry swallowed hard, feeling like she was stumbling up a staircase in the dark, knowing that one step was missing.

"Makes sense," Sherry said. "I was framed."

Odessa turned to look at her, scooting closer until their arms brushed each other. It was weirdly comforting to have someone listen instead of scoff. "Huh. Ain't that a bitch. Wrong place, wrong time?"

"No. I was right on schedule. I knew I was there to be framed. It wasn't the first time."

Clenching her jaw, Sherry stared straight ahead at the skyline. The city was loud, but it was so quiet inside the glass box, she felt as though every snake was listening in. None of them gave a shit, other than the one sitting beside her.

"Mia and I would switch places all the time," Sherry said, her words feeling strangely disconnected from herself. She had kept them in for so long. "Ever since we were kids, we would share the blame. We would keep track of whose turn it was to get in trouble. As we grew up... she was the one doing most of the bad things.

"And then, once we were adults, it was legal trouble. She could never seem to get herself back on her feet without being dragged back down by something new. It happened over and over. I would let myself get arrested for her petty crimes, and then I'd be let go. She had this terrible boyfriend who kept dragging her along. She may have loved me, but she was obsessed with him. It got to be too much. Once I realized she liked that life, I was done. I moved away, cut her off. It was more like cutting off an arm or a leg. She had turned into this awful thing, but she was still my sister.

"Four years, we didn't speak. Then one day she called me up. Said she needed my help one last time. Said she'd leave me alone after that. I almost didn't go, but I missed her, and I was worried. She promised it was nothing too bad, but she had built up her record so much since I left, she just couldn't afford to get caught again.

"So I showed up where she told me to. I found her backpack in an alley. When I called her, she was a wreck. She kept apologizing, kept saying she loved me. But that she couldn't be a trinket. She just couldn't do it.

"Right on cue, I was spotted and recognized by a witness. I was arrested. The police line-up lasted for about thirty seconds before I was singled out. I was dragged in for an interrogation. That was when they told me what she did. What I did. Seven counts of first-degree murder. See, her boyfriend had been arrested for gang activity and who knows how many hits. At his trial, the jurors took less than five minutes to deliberate: guilty. He was sentenced to be a trinket. And she snapped. She blamed it all on them."

Odessa nodded, having the decency to look disturbed. "The jurors...."

"Picked them off one by one over the course of a year. On her seventh one, she was spotted, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she was found. So she called me up. Told me where to wait. I hadn't even looked inside her backpack, but buried at the bottom was the gun she had used."

"I'm guessing they didn't buy the whole 'my twin sister did it and told me to stand here'?"

"Oh, they knew something was off. But the precinct was a laughing stock because of how long it took them to find the serial killer. By then, Mia was long gone, and they had the perfect scapegoat, along with eyewitnesses to back up that they knew my face. Detectives even lifted some of her DNA from a few crime scenes. We matched."

For a long time, the two of them stayed silent.

"I was right, then," Odessa said finally, leaning her head on Sherry's shoulder. "Great liar. Terrible criminal."

As the rain began to slam harder against the glass, Sherry couldn't bring herself to shrug her off.

That evening, Sherry was fully prepared to step forward and take the job that had been assigned to her. Odessa took it before she could say a word. Mitchell was beginning to look frustrated, but apparently he was more interested in testing Odessa's limits than he was in making her play by the rules.

Odessa did not return until the next afternoon, and judging by the state she was in, Mitchell had gotten what he wanted.

He was all smirks as he dropped her into the common area. "Walk it off, little snake."

Her injuries were so brutal that even the other trinkets broke out of their disinterested fog to stare. She had a split lip and dried blood caking the lower half of her face. She clutched her side tenderly, staggering against the glass to stay upright on the path to her room. She left a smear of blood on the pristine wall along the way. Mitchell watched for only a minute before taking his leave.

Sherry rushed up beside Odessa. A couple of weeks ago, it would have been satisfying to see her this way. Now, Sherry couldn't bring herself to remember what that smugness would have felt like.

"What happened?" Sherry demanded.

"You should see the other guy," Odessa croaked, wincing a cold smile.

"Don't be cute," Sherry said, allowing Odessa to lean on her as they headed to the sheet-covered room. "Don't we have some kind of medic? They know it's a dangerous job."

"Already stopped by the clinic downstairs. This was all they could do. Or wanted to do, anyway."

Sherry looked the half-assed job up and down, gently touching the hand that Odessa kept pressed to her side. "Your ribs might be cracked. What the hell happened?"

"Reapers suspected my target was working for the rebellion. He was spotted with the same trinkets multiple times, so he wasn't selling. I got myself all set up to be 'rescued', and it turns out this guy is a high roller in a fighting ring. Once I realized what was happening, I called for the reapers to come collect. But before I knew it, I was in the pit with another trinket, and he was not interested in talking it out." She smiled crookedly. "What, you worried about me, or something?"

Making a face, Sherry nudged Odessa toward her bed. "Yeah. If you can't go back out there, then I'll have to. Now lay down, come on."

"Bossy," Odessa sing-songed. "Kinda hot."

"Did you get a concussion too, or what?"

Sherry helped her lay down, then started looking around for something to help. Water and cloth were easy enough to get, but Odessa needed far more than that. Noticing Sherry's plight, Odessa raised her head.

"Raquel's got salve." She pointed to the box of clothes in the corner. "Take her the sunflower dress. She'll trade."

Digging out the dress, Sherry hurried out the door to find Raquel. It was a surprisingly easy trade for a mini bottle of salve. Mini to humans, at least. The bottle was the length of Sherry's forearm. It seemed that pretty clothes were just as much a commodity as life-saving medication. Sherry was still wearing her standard issue institution-like set despite Odessa's offer to share.

Returning to Odessa's room, Sherry set everything down on the nightstand, pulled up a chair, and got to work. She started by cleaning away the blood, moving more gently when Odessa winced.

"How do you not have your own salve?" Sherry asked to distract her.

"Covering my walls was a big ask. Mitchell, in his infinite wisdom, says he doesn't want to spoil me. He has decided that I can only ask for one or the other."

"Salve seems a little more practical if you ask me."

"Can always trade if I need it." Odessa reached back behind her head to lovingly touch the sheet on the nearest wall. "Ever notice how everything meant to contain trinkets is made of glass? Polished, perfectly see-through glass. That's part of the punishment, even if no one says it out loud. We're always on display. Always meant to be looked at and humiliated. Sure, there's nothing I can do about the ceiling, but... it's something, at least."

Sherry had never thought hard about it, though it had been staring her in the face for three weeks now.

"Lift your shirt," Sherry instructed, helping her sit up.

"That's forward of you." Odessa smirked at Sherry's eye-roll and did as she was told, lifting her shirt enough to expose her ribs.

Tenderly as she could, Sherry spread a few fingertips of salve over the bruising area. It wasn't a cure by any means, but it would help with the pain. After prompting Odessa to lay back down, Sherry dabbed salve onto Odessa's lip. Their eyes met, and Sherry felt heat rush to her cheeks.

Odessa shut her eyes for a moment and released a heavy sigh, reaching up to squeeze Sherry's hand.

"I poisoned the keeper," Odessa said quietly.

If she had been searching for the perfect way to kill the mood, she hit the nail on the head.

Frowning, Sherry slipped her hand free. "With what?"

"I worked in a botanical garden, remember? All kinds of plants. Prints were the only ones allowed to get up close and personal with the most poisonous ones. Prints and trinkets aren't affected the same way as humans. But let's be honest, they'd send us in there even if that wasn't in the case. Anyway, I started up a little collection, harvested the oils, and mixed them."

"He... he didn't suspect anything?"

She shook her head. "I didn't do it right away. I kept thinking... if he gets worse. And he did. I tried to convince him to stop, but he wouldn't. He had firmly decided there was nothing I could do about it, so why stop? That last night, he broke my window to get to me. The timing couldn't have been more deserved."

By that point, Sherry was fixated, forgetting the salve and soaked cloth entirely. "How did you manage to get it in his food or drink? It couldn't have been easy."

"Who said anything about food or drink?" Something sinister flickered at the back of her eyes. "I rubbed the oils all over my skin."

"Oh," was all Sherry managed to breathe out.

"Yeah. Oh. He had me strip like he normally did. Then, the moment he put his disgusting mouth on me, he was doomed. He didn't even know it. He drove home and didn't show up for his next shift. They found him in his apartment three days later."

"And they traced it back to you?"

"Well, I didn't go bragging about it." Odessa touched her sore ribs absently, staring at the buzzing fluorescent lights high above. "The autopsy revealed the poison. Those types of plants weren't native to the area and were traced to the botanical garden. And who was his only connection to the garden?"

"But you didn't slip it into his food or anything! For all they knew, you just happened to have leftover poison on your skin from working in the garden. He's the one who put his mouth on you."

Odessa laughed. "Like they gave a shit. Plenty of keepers knew he had a thing for me, then he suddenly shows up dead? They even had a few of my neighbors testify about how much I hated him. I didn't stand a chance. But... the way I went about it is also the reason I'm here to begin with."

"Oh. You said that reapers usually pick snakes, right?"

"Mitchell attended my trial when he heard what I did. It didn't last long. He approached me hours before my consciousness transfer. His timing is impeccable with that sort of thing—offering a deal just when you think things are hopeless you're desperate enough to say yes to anything.

"He said I could come work for him, or I could be shipped off to whichever business called dibs on the next trinket shipment. He fed me all this bullshit about being able to stop worse people than the keeper I killed. All he needed to say was that being a snake meant I had a fighting chance. I said yes, of course. From that moment, I was his. He even picked my new face. Took me into a storage room every night the first few weeks for training."

Sherry reached for Odessa's hand and squeezed, trying to draw her out of her distant gaze despite the quiet horror Sherry felt herself. No wonder Mitchell seemed to have the greatest sense of ownership over Odessa compared to the other snakes. She was his project.

"So," Sherry said. "Ever daydream about making some poison and letting Mitchell have a taste."

Odessa smiled wanly. "I used to. Then I realized that Mitchell is our survival. He's a sadistic fuck, but we need him."

The response took Sherry off-guard. She didn't think Odessa could look or sound so complacent.

"You're not covered in poison right now, are you?" Sherry asked. Before Odessa could process the question, Sherry leaned in and pressed a featherlight kiss to her cheek. "Thanks for taking the fall for me. Since Mitchell's off-limits, can we at least daydream that the keeper is burning right now?"

"Now that one's a favorite."

Minutes ticked by, stretching into hours as Odessa rested. Sherry didn't realize she had dozed off in the chair beside the bed until the approach of a human rattled her awake.

"Odessa, you're out of commission for the weekend, lucky you," Mitchell announced, prompting her to jolt awake too. He smiled as his icy gaze moved between them. "Sherry, your assignment's already in, and I'm nice enough to give you a head's up. Velvet Delights. Be ready by 5 for pickup."

Cold fear drenched Sherry, stealing her breath.

"What!" Odessa snapped up to sit, grimacing at her sore ribs. "She can't go to a brothel! She's never even gone to a bar!"

"See, here's the thing," Mitchell said, leaning over to look straight down into the room until they had to crane their necks. "On file, she's been doing a hell of a phenomenal job at bars for the past three weeks. Even survived a fighting ring. No one can argue that she's ready as anyone for a brothel."

Odessa snarled, kicking off her blanket and standing to glare up at him. "Send someone with experience! You know she isn't ready!"

"Whose fault is that? She could have been more than ready if you didn't coddle her."

Eyes wide and frenzied, Odessa looked to Sherry, who had her hands over her mouth as she tried to keep a sob at bay. This couldn't be happening. She'd known that eventually she would have to work, but she had all but blocked out the possibility of being tossed into a brothel.

Drawing a deep breath, Odessa squared her shoulders and looked back up at Mitchell. "Send me in with her."

His eyebrows shot up. "You have three days off."

"Which means I'm free to volunteer. You know as well as me that brothels have the highest death rate. Always better to send more than one. It divides the attention, makes it easier to get evidence."

Mitchell scoffed, but he paused to consider it. "You really are something else," he finally told Odessa. His eyes slid to Sherry for a moment, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm starting to get a little jealous if I'm being honest." He straightened and walked off. "Ready for pick up at 5," he said over his shoulder.

Sherry put on a pretty good show of pretending she wasn't scared out of her mind. In the weeks of getting to know her, however, Odessa could spot her tells. The way she rolled her shoulders. The slight pinch of her brow and lips that could be mistaken for a determined frown. The deep breaths she took to steady herself.

Velvet Delights was upscale, almost heavenly in its angel theme, which could either be helpful or disastrous. The reaper team wouldn't be far, patrolling the area and waiting for one of them to send the signal on their collars. The owner was thrilled to have a couple of free laborers, along with a promise that his inventory would not be snatched by the scheduled suspect that night.

The two of them were ordered to stand close together on the tray. Since Sherry seemed to have forgotten how to move, Odessa went and sat next to her. They were imprisoned under a wine glass and carted into a silk-lavished room. A luxury bottle of wine towered beside them. Odessa had been to enough brothels to know this setup was a special request.

The hostess straightened the pillows, made sure the glass was centered on the tray, and locked the door on her way out.

"You were right about the glass thing," Sherry whimpered in a half-assed attempt to giggle.

"Just relax," Odessa said. "Don't draw attention to yourself. Trinkets have mysteriously vanished around this guy, and that most likely means he's selling. He won't want to damage his product."

"And if he's not selling?" Sherry whispered.

Odessa squeezed her hand. "Just leave everything to me."

"You're hurt."

"The salve helped. I'm fine." Breathing only hurt a little.

The lock scraped. Sherry jumped, letting out a noise of fright. Her breathing quickened, and she shivered with the beginnings of a panic attack.

"Don't," Odessa hissed.

The door swung open, revealing a man with brown hair. When his eyes landed on them, he broke out in a smile that could light up a room. He glanced behind himself dramatically to check the number on the door.

"Am I in the right room?" he said. "Didn't know I'd be getting two. Hope I don't get charged extra."

Stripping off his jacket, he tossed it on a lounger and sauntered to the cart by the bed. He leaned over for a closer look, his fingertips trailing along the glass, tapping.

"Though... I say it'd be worth it for you two stunners."

Odessa tried to keep a neutral expression while she read him. It didn't take long to surmise that he had a thing for power. According to Mitchell, he was a bartender at a fancy downtown club. Trinkets were an everyday fixture for him, and still he visited brothels.

He reached for the bottle and worked on opening it. Didn't waste time, this one. Neither trinket said a word. "Don't be shy, now. Let's break the ice with some introductions." He popped the bottle and smiled pleasantly at them. "I'm James."

"Lolli," Odessa said, purposely trying to make herself look smaller and vulnerable.

He gave a hearty laugh, eyeing her red hair. "Lucky me. Cherry is my favorite flavor. Well, tonight it is." His gaze slid over to Sherry expectantly.

"Charity," she squeaked out, huddling closer to Odessa.

"Precious. Does that mean you're giving?" He grabbed the edge of the cart and dragged it closer. "I'm pretty giving myself, but we'll see if you're grateful enough to appreciate it."

Delicately pinching the stem of the glass, he pulled it closer, forcing them to approach him. Lifting the bottle, he tilted it to pour wine over the upended glass. Pale red dribbles raced down the outside of their prison. Odessa bit back a sneer, knowing he had either done this dozens of times or had scripted this fantasy down to the last beat in his mind.

Still, she was hardly prepared when he thudded the bottle down and slipped his hand beneath the rim of the glass. They had no choice but to scramble onto his fingers, stuck in their enclosure like captured bugs. James lifted them to eye level.

"Sorry for the theatrics," he said without sounding sorry at all. "I have my way of sampling."

Hunger, lust, and amusement battled for dominance in his gaze. Odessa bumped against Sherry as they were suddenly lowered, bringing his mouth into direct view. Sherry gave a breathless shriek as he licked the dripping wine in front of them. She snagged Odessa's arm and urged her to back up to the other side of their prison—as if it would make any difference.

As he turned his hands to drag his tongue further along, his breath fogged the glass. Odessa tried to look more frightened than outright disgusted. So, he was the type who liked to scare his victims instead of winning them over. How original. At least she did not doubt the character she had to play now.

"S-stop," Odessa said, loosing a fake sob and covering her face. "P-please!"

He pulled away, a look of deep satisfaction on his face. "You're right, I shouldn't have all the fun."

Air rushed past them as the glass was lifted off, leaving them exposed in his palm. Odessa thought for sure they were about to get the same treatment with his tongue. To her surprise, he lowered them to the nightstand and let them slide off. Grabbing a cloth from the cart, he wiped off the glass and poured himself a real drink while Sherry huddled against Odessa.

"Oh?" James took a long pull from the wine as he observed his audience of two. "Are you two friends? Adorable. That always makes things more fun." His gaze settled on Odessa. "Lolli, wouldn't you say our friend looks awfully warm in that get-up?"

The two of them wore matching white babydoll lingerie meant to make them look like angels. Instead of halos, they had their collars. Sherry shivered in her outfit like she was sitting in a snowstorm.

"In case it wasn't obvious," James said, his voice taking on an edge. "I'm telling you to take it off her."

Swallowing hard, Odessa turned to face Sherry, nodding her assurance. They needed to do what he said, lure him to let his guard down. With any luck, they could get a confession before he stole them from the brothel. Her goal wasn't to be perfect tonight; it was to get Sherry the hell out of there.

With trembling fingers that were only partly theatrics, Odessa reached for the straps of Sherry's bra. She felt sick to her stomach, particularly when she felt Sherry recoil from her touch. Sherry's voice seemed to echo from weeks ago, accusing her of being a monster. She certainly felt like one right now, though not as fearsome as the one looming over them with his expectant stare.

"I'm sorry," Odessa whispered.

Sherry looked like she might burst into tears as she dropped her head. She made no move to resist as Odessa undid the straps and pulled her bra down her arms, leaving her topless. Reaching for Sherry's panties, Odessa stopped halfway and pulled her hands back. She shook her head, leaning into her guilty expression as she looked up at James pleadingly.

James scoffed and drained the last of his wine, slamming the glass onto the nightstand beside them. "If that's too hard, tonight's gonna be a rough one for you, babe. But I guess I'll let you off the hook for now."

Odessa breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'll finish the job myself." James reached for them.

Sherry cried out in protest and latched herself to Odessa's arm, weeping. James' hand faltered as he eyed them. It wasn't pity—far from it. It was intrigue. Odessa could practically see the gears turning in his head as he took in the sight of Sherry cowering against her for protection.

He grinned. "Am I crazy, or are you blushing, Lolli?" Both. "Goddamn, more than friends, huh? I'm starting to wonder if management thinks it's my birthday or something. I'll do you a favor and show your little girlfriend how it's done, from the top."

His hand closed the distance this time, claiming Odessa as its prize. As he pulled her away, Sherry tried desperately to hold onto her, crying, "No! No!" But she fell back on the polished wood when James shook her off.

"Settle down, babe," he cooed. "You'll get your turn with her. You should be taking notes."

Odessa squirmed and whimpered in his grasp, silently relieved to have the sicko's attention focused all on her. She was no stranger to being stripped bare, but there was something particularly chilling about how expertly his fingers navigated her. He managed to be delicate and possessive all at once as he slipped off the straps of her panties and tossed them aside.

"N-no!" Odessa sobbed dramatically as he lifted her toward his mouth.

He curled his thumb in, effortlessly pinning her to his palm as hot breath spilled over her. His teeth teased at her skin gently until he found one of her bra straps. He tugged until it came loose, leaving her naked in his hand. The delicate lace was still pinched between his teeth as he pulled back to observe her. His thumb rubbed her middle up and down, testing how much pressure it would take to make her squirm in terror.

He let the lingerie fall from his mouth and flutter to the floor. "You're going to be a fun one, aren't you? Thank fuck. These high-end places usually have the prissiest trinkets."

"Please s-stop!" She dug her heels into his palm, trying to pry up his thumb. "You don't have to do this!"

"That's the best part." He leaned in again, trailing his tongue up along her side and circling her breasts while she tried to wriggle out from under his thumb. He sighed as if he couldn't be happier with how she tasted.

She could feel him start to pull away, could see that he was beginning to turn his attention back to Sherry. Odessa yanked her head up and bit his lip. He gave a start and looked down at her, jaw dropping.

"Fun and feisty," he purred. "It's like you were made for me." He caught one of her flailing arms between his teeth and bit her back. Not enough to break skin, but enough for her to let out a scream that wasn't staged.

But that did the trick. He seemed to forget Sherry for the time being, keeping Odessa clenched in his fist while he undressed. Her sore ribs screamed in agony. He moved slowly, making sure she brushed up against his body when he pulled up his shirt or unbuckled his belt. When the dizzying journey was over, he was as naked as she was. He was more muscular than she would have assumed, toned chest and abs filling her vision. She made sure he caught her staring.

A fresh grin lit up his face. "It's about to be all yours, Lollipop."

When he spread himself out on the bed silks, Odessa caught a glimpse of Sherry standing helplessly on the nightstand. Her shoulders moved up and down with visible breaths of panic. Odessa felt a fierce tug at her heart, but she didn't dare look too long, lest James get new inspiration to have Sherry join the party.

As it turned out, Odessa didn't have much of an opportunity to stare, anyway. James laid back and put one arm behind his head, observing as he dangled her by an ankle. He twisted his fingers, scrutinizing her at every frightened angle. He breathed with deep contentment, trailing her up and down his chest and abs.

Only her hair tickled at him at first, but with each stroke, he claimed more of her. Arms, face, shoulders, back, breasts, until the entire length of her was skating along the heat of his skin. When she managed to catch a glimpse of his face, she realized he wasn't even looking at her. She followed his gaze overhead and nearly gagged. There was a mirror on the ceiling, and he was fixated on the sight of himself torturing her.

She put on a good show for him, whimpering and squirming and trying to pull herself up to avoid touching him. She dug her fingers into his skin and made him groan. She screamed a few profanities for good measure, followed by desperate apologies begging him to forgive her.

He loved it. Now if she could just get him to confess.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," she babbled to herself out loud, as if she had completely lost it. "Just tonight, and he'll be gone. I can do this, I c-can do this."

He paused, stopping her halfway down the slope of an ab. "Aw, you're gonna hurt my feelings. Wouldn't you want to stay with me forever?"

A sob wracked through her. "You can't have me! You'll have to give me back."

Her vision spun as he carried her in front of his face to look her over. His chuckle was sinister, but not damning. She wanted to scream in frustration. Just say you're stealing us, already! She kicked her free leg and writhed, actually feeling his fingertips get tugged from the motion.

"Fuck, you're a fiery one," he murmured low in his throat.

That was all he had to say for now. She saw the lust gathering in his eyes, the way his breaths became deeper. He sat up halfway and dragged her down the planes of his body once more, not pausing to drag her back up this time. With a sinking heart, she knew the destination he had lovingly chosen for her.

Seeming miles away, Sherry let out a shriek as she watched from the nightstand. "No! No, don't, please!"

Odessa blocked it out. She would have to deal with this before she could hope to get any info from him. It was far from her first time. As he pressed her up against his hardening cock, she shut down entirely and let it happen. His fingers guided her up and down, the motion becoming rougher by the second.

But he was more sensitive to her mood than she gave him credit for.

"Aw, what happened to all that fire?" he grunted.

Just as quickly as the pressure had started, it faded. He pulled her away from his dick, and she watched in horror as he turned his attention to Sherry's frantic form pacing on the edge of the nightstand.

"Maybe our girlfriend here will be a little more fun. It's her you want, isn't it?"

Odessa's reaction was genuine as she abandoned everything she knew about being a snake. "You keep your sick hands off her!"

But that only inspired him to move quicker. "There's the fire, Lollipop."

His other hand raced to snatch up Sherry. He laid back down, pausing to relish the violent squirms in both his fists before he placed them on his stomach. He stared down expectantly at them like they had been deposited on a stage. He raised his eyebrows viciously at Odessa.

"If you're not a fan of making me happy, I'll let you make your girl wet instead." He reached past them and started stroking himself with anticipation. "Go on."

Odessa turned to Sherry as the two of them rose and fell in tandem with their tyrant's breathing. She reached for Sherry's hand and squeezed. Biting her lip, Odessa searched desperately for some confirmation that this was okay, that they could do what they needed to continue the job. But Sherry gave her head the smallest, pleading shake as tears streamed down her face.

Not here. Not like this.

Turning murderous eyes toward James, Odessa dropped her act entirely and flipped him off. "I'm not putting my hands on her for you, you fucking psychopath."

James groaned in disappointment. "You know, it turns me on a little less every time someone calls me that."

Quick as lightning, he tore Odessa away from Sherry and dumped her in the glass on the nightstand.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Odessa pounded her fists against her damp prison as Sherry became the object of James' scrutiny.

He plucked her up under the arms, watching the panicky kick of her legs. "Oh, don't be like that. Your girlfriend didn't even want you. Don't worry, Charity, I'm here for you now."

Sighing in rapture, he leaned in and pressed kisses to her writhing body. Sherry's whimpers took on a higher octave as he nibbled at her panties. That was all the warning he gave before jerking his head back and ripping them free of her body entirely. He spat them out, eyeing her with a crooked, boyish smile.

"Doesn't that feel much better?"

He teased her with a few more deep kisses, poking his tongue between her legs long enough to elicit an involuntary moan.

"Listen to that. You love it."

He dropped her back on his chest. He nudged her to lay face down and let his hand fall over her, massaging himself with her squirms. He rubbed her down to his abs and back up again. Her muffled cries were silenced each time he fully smothered her, only to surface again when he eased up on the pressure. He couldn't seem to get enough of the rhythm.

All the while, Odessa did not stop shrieking for his attention. By the time he turned his gaze back to her, her throat felt screamed raw. He ignored Sherry's violent struggles against his chest to give Odessa a chiding look.

"No whining, now. You had your chance with her. But don't worry, I'm generous enough to include you."

James sat up halfway and lifted his hand to set Sherry loose. She slid partway down his stomach, scrambling to cling to him so wouldn't slip onto his erection.

"See?" he chuckled, giving her another rub against him. "She's crazy about me."

Reaching past Odessa, James snagged the wine and poured it over her head, filling the glass until she was swimming. Surfacing, Odessa grabbed hold of the rim and coughed. "L-leave her alone! Use me instead!"

The shadow of his hand darkened over her. "You talk too much."

His fingertip came down on her head and dunked her under the wine. He held her down for a good long time while she thrashed and tried to dodge around his finger, which only shoved her down further.

Even when he let her come back up for air, she was given only a millisecond to gather herself. He plucked up the glass and swirled his wine, making her dizzy as she struggled to keep her head up. She slammed into the side of the glass and nearly passed out from the explosive pain in her ribs.

Then he lifted the rim to his lips and took a long gulp. She was too disoriented to swim away from the current rushing into his mouth. Once he caught her arm between his teeth, she could do nothing but wait until he was satisfied with his drink.

As the wine settled back in the glass, Odessa gasped for breath and pushed her wine-soaked hair out of her eyes. She spotted Sherry crawling away on James' stomach. She made it to the sheets before he noticed, chuckling with delight.

"Oh, you like games?" The wine that held Odessa rippled at the rumble of his voice. Sherry moved faster and ducked under a fold. James gave her a head start before setting the glass down so he could poke through the sheets in search of her. "Ready or not..."

While he was distracted, Odessa frantically tapped at her collar to activate the tracker and communicator.

"He confessed," she coughed out, keeping her voice low so James wouldn't hear her. "He has other trinkets with him! He made other stops before this one. Come on, hurry!"

There was an agonizing pause in which James crowed in triumph upon finding Sherry. She screamed as she was yanked out of her hiding place.

"No shit?" Mitchell's voice crackled through the collar. "On our way."

James settled back down, holding Sherry in a fist. He kneaded her front with his thumb as he entertained himself with her weakening struggles.

"P-please," she said. The fight seemed to leave her body. She looked right at him, trying to appeal to a better nature that just wasn't there. "I don't belong h-here. I'm innocent, you have t-to understand! I was framed. Please, please believe me. S-stop this..."

He pursed his lips and nodded along as if he was listening. When she was done, he broke out in a grin so wicked that Odessa swore she felt the temperature drop. "As if I don't hear that same sob story every damn day of my life."

Sweeping his hand out, he deposited Sherry beside his swollen cock.

"Let's see what you got," he said, his voice growing huskier. "Make me happier than you did the judge, and I might be nice."

Sherry tried to run for the sheets again.

"Do I have to do everything around here?" James sighed, though he sounded pleased as could be.

His hand barreled into her and shoved her back where he wanted. He pressed her up against himself with his thumb, rubbing in tight circles. As his panting grew more frantic, he seized both her and his cock in one hand, hiding her entirely with his fingers as he began to jerk himself off. His hand pumped up and down, drowning out Sherry's sobbing screams.

"Stop!" Tears flooded Odessa's eyes, mixing with the wine. "P-please! Just stop!"

His head snapped toward her, wearing a toothy grin. "Don't think I've forgotten about my Lollipop," he panted.

He grabbed the glass and tipped it into his open mouth with reckless abandon. Wine poured in and spilled out the sides. Odessa scrambled to grab hold of something as gravity took over, but there was nothing she could do to stop herself as he tipped her over entirely. The cold glass was replaced with a warm, slick cavern.

Light vanished when he shut his mouth. The surface beneath her lurched upward. His tongue mashed her against the roof of his mouth while he swallowed the rest of the wine around her. The gulp was deafening.

Once she was the only occupant in his mouth, he began toying with her. His teeth narrowly missed crushing her limbs as he clenched his jaw and moaned from the ecstasy of Sherry's struggles. He tilted his head back, and for an awful moment, Odessa thought he was about to swallow her next. Instead, he opened his mouth and left her propped up with his tongue, allowing her a view straight up at the ceiling mirror.

In the reflection, she saw how he parted his fingers around Sherry, giving her a chance to shriek freely. Then he pressed his fingertip to the back of her head to muffle the sound again. An answering groan quaked around Odessa.

She gave a wordless cry and tried to grab his teeth and haul herself out of his mouth. His tongue practically wrapped around her and reeled her back in. He shut his mouth again, rolling her around and sucking on her like a piece of candy.

To her shock, he stuck his fingers in his mouth to grab her by the ankle and pull her out. Losing no rhythm with Sherry, he leaned over to the freshly-refilled wine glass and dunked Odessa headfirst inside. He swirled her around and yanked her out just as suddenly. Holding her over his open mouth, he let wine drip onto his waiting tongue.

Odessa couldn't muster the energy to plead or hurl profanities at him. The hold on her ankle vanished, and she was dropped back toward her dark prison. She managed to twist in the air, landing on the corner of his mouth with her legs halfway out. His teeth came down on her torso, gnawing with dangerous pressure. She tried to wrench her way free, but it was no use. While she was pinned, his tongue returned to greet her, and his finger nudged her the rest of the way in.

James gave another deafening moan of appreciation as he savored her wine-soaked skin.

The noises became more consistent, and his movements quickened. He was heading toward climax. Odessa couldn't help but feel a tiny measure of relief as she curled herself away from his teeth. It was almost over.

Then, to her horror, his tongue began nudging her toward his throat.

In that instant, there was no doubt in her mind that he meant to swallow her as the finale of his pleasure. She scrambled to pull herself away, but there was a shift in gravity as he tilted his head back again to thwart her pitiful struggles.

"NO!" she howled, but the sound went nowhere. The harder she tried to pull herself up, the further she seemed to fall. Her legs slipped into a steep drop.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

Suddenly, she was tilted back to the center of his tongue.

"Occupied," James snapped, teeth gnashing against Odessa's shoulder.

The door banged open. He was so startled that he bit down on her arm. A wail of pain tore out as an incisor cut her. It was a miracle that the bone wasn't crushed.

She felt him cringe at the taste of blood. He plucked her out of his mouth. She coughed herself ragged while his fingers pinched her by the diaphragm and spine. Snagging Sherry's limp body, he used the same hand to toss the sheet over his nudity.

"What the fuck is going on?" James roared, making Odessa slam her hands over her ears.

It all happened in a whirlwind.

Odessa and Sherry were confiscated by Agent Taylor while Agent Mitchell gave orders to the others. They were kind enough to let James put some clothes back on before he was dragged into a corner for rapid questioning.

The trinkets were placed back on the cart tray, but it seemed everyone forgot to give them the privilege of clothing. Sherry looked ready to faint as she stumbled over to Odessa and threw her arms around. She wasn't crying, just breathing heavily. She pressed her hand to Odessa's wound to help staunch the bleeding. Odessa sank with her and held her close, knowing that things were not about to get any easier.

As everything unfolded around them, Odessa found herself looking at Sherry's face. Her gaze was fixed on James across the room. Where there should have been fear, there was pure, unadulterated hatred. She hadn't even looked this angry when she found out the truth about Odessa's role in her capture.

She looked like she would kill if given the opportunity.

"Are you okay?" Odessa whispered.

Sherry blinked and shook her head as tears began falling. Sniffling, she surprisingly chuckled. "Sorry, I know I'm going against lesson one. No benefit to crying here."

Giving a small sob herself, Odessa tucked a lock of hair behind Sherry's ear. "Hey, don't tell anyone, but I was crying half the time. Didn't do me much good, either."

"I'm telling you, I don't know about any other trinkets!" James insisted, pulling their attention back.

Mitchell, looking like he had just won the lottery, walked over to the cart. "Where are the others?" he directed at Odessa.

When she didn't answer, his smile dropped. He leaned in closer, expression darkening dangerously.

"There are no others," Odessa said, figuring she may as well rip off the band-aid.

Mitchell went perfectly still. "But you got a recorded confession?"

"Nope."

And with that, James was released with a heartfelt apology and an assurance that he would be compensated for his night at the brothel, along with a promise that the agency would negotiate with the owner about a few free nights.

"You're lucky if I don't sue the shit out of you," James snapped, making his way to the door.

But Odessa doubted he would. He had to be a black market dealer, or a skilled independent seller at the very least. He wouldn't dare draw the attention of a lawsuit. Even if he didn't complete his fantasy that night, he was walking away with the knowledge that reapers were on his tail, and now he could act accordingly.

Odessa swore he winked in her and Sherry's direction on his way out.

Mitchell sent out the rest of the team while he remained in the room with Odessa and Sherry. He loomed over the tray, looking ready to break them both in half. His hands even flexed at his sides as he gathered himself.

"What the fuck was that?" he managed finally, each word coated in malice.

"He was going to kill us both," Odessa said calmly.

She was prepared when the weight of his hand fell on her, but nothing could help the pain of her ribs crushing against her lungs.

"Like I give a shit," Mitchell hissed. "Snakes die. That's how it goes."

"If you're willing to let your best snake die over one creep, you're a fucking moron."

He pulled out his work phone, which didn't surprise her in the slightest. She took the deepest breaths she could manage, though it wouldn't do her much good. He was going to choke her until she passed out—it wasn't the first time. But when he finished tapping at the screen and looked down at her with relish, her collar didn't tighten.

Sherry gave a shrill squeal. She fell to her knees, clawing at the collar. Odessa gasped and bucked uselessly, every one of her injuries smarting as she fought.

"Quit it!" Odessa pleaded. "It's not her fault! I made the call!"

"She's nothing but a distraction to you," he said grimly. "Maybe this will show you what happens when you let your precious little wants get in the way."

He let her up, and she rushed to Sherry. It wasn't mercy; he intended for Sherry to die in her arms.

"If I lose her, you lose me!" Odessa shouted. "I'll fuck up every job, and you can choke me to death, too! Now stop!"

Mitchell let it go on for a few more seconds, but he did stop, looking weary. "What the hell am I supposed to do, Odessa? You ruined a perfectly set-up sting because you couldn't let your girlfriend take a little punishment."

"It won't happen again. I know she can survive now. I'm going to train her until she's perfect, for real this time."

He paced in front of them while Sherry wheezed and leaned against Odessa for support.

"The station's not gonna go under just because two little snakes are gone," Mitchell said, coming to a stop in front of them. "Either she's an asset or a problem. She'll make it clear which one when she goes on her first solo job."

With that, he scooped up Sherry, leaving Odessa alone on the tray. At first, she was confused as she watched Sherry get handed off to Agent Taylor in the hallway. But as Mitchell shut the door behind him and started taking off his jacket, she knew precisely what was happening.

She wanted to collapse and sob and beg that she couldn't take anymore tonight, but she was better than that. She held her ground as he loosened his tie and gave her a deeply possessive look.

"Well, my shift's over just about over," he said. "It's been a while, hasn't it? You want to keep your cute little girlfriend? Convince me."

At dawn, Sherry padded to Odessa's room. It had been stripped bare of incentives, including the sheets on the walls. It was as empty as Sherry's now. Her clothes were standard issue. A small spot of blood seeped through the cloth bandage on her arm. She couldn't trade for salve. She had nothing.

Well, not nothing, Sherry decided. She could have been confiscated just as easily.

Sherry crawled up beside Odessa, whispering an apology when she startled her. Odessa lay with her back to the doorway, curled into herself. No blankets. No pillow. Just the two of them. Sherry wrapped her arms around her from behind.

"Hey, queen," she whispered. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing that hasn't happened before."

"That doesn't mean you're okay." Sherry slipped a hand to Odessa's ribs. "Sorry," she murmured when Odessa flinched.

"No, it's alright." Odessa placed a hand over hers, using it to rub a slow circle on the sore spot. Then she guided Sherry's hand higher and left it on her breast. Sherry squeezed gently and ran her thumb up and down. As right as it felt, Sherry stopped herself.

"Aren't you tired of being touched?" Sherry murmured.

"You're not them." Odessa's voice sounded tight. "You're soft. You could never hurt me."

Moving Odessa's hair out of the way, Sherry pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, trailing up until she reached her jaw, her cheek. Her lips brushed Odessa's ear. "Tonight may have been a bust, but on a normal job, it must feel good to put away sick fucks like that bartender," she whispered.

Odessa gave a weak laugh. "You're buying into the bullshit, huh? Saving the world? You realize we're not helping anyone, right? Just sending off our 'rescues' to a different circle of hell."

"At least the sick fucks are joining them along the way."

Odessa turned in Sherry's arms to face her more fully. "Rebels join them just the same. Tell me you know that."

Sherry was quiet for a moment, feeling an odd sting of guilt for something she hadn't even done yet. "I know."

She reached for Odessa's chin and gently guided it closer. Their lips touched softly at first, then fell into deeper, more frantic kisses. The fluorescents beat down mercilessly on them. Anyone could watch, but they didn't care.

"I think I'm ready to start doing my job," Sherry said between kisses as they leaned their foreheads together.

Odessa snorted. "I can't tell if you're lying."

"Then I know I'm ready."

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