^^ Isaac Tomoi ^^

— Isaac —

Like many of my precious few nights off, tonight I found myself in yet another house of ill repute, surrounded by scantily clad men and women in a variety of slutty variations of traditional uniforms, from maids to police to the occasional firefighter or cowboy. The smell of alcohol bit at my enhanced senses like a dog at my ankles, diluting much else in the room, but it wasn't enough to block the smell of arousal and hormones coming off of everyone in waves, to my irritation. The ones who'd brought me here were friends of my family and it's businesses, -people I'd prefer not to offend needlessly,- and thus I was stuck seated in a leather chair that was suspiciously sticky, surrounded by four men at least twice my age who wanted my very soul for their employers, and the room was suffused the smell of sex, lust, alcohol, and... irritation?

To my left, one of the men had grabbed a handful of a waitress's bottom, this one wearing a latex bunny suit and fishnet tights that hugged her generous curves so tightly that she had to wear a tiny 'skirt/belt' in order to leave to the imagination what was between her buxom thighs. One of the men I was with reacted to his colleague grabbing her, to my surprise, but before he could speak in his defense, she responded in a way that was not like I expected in the slightest; lightning-quick, she snatched his hand off of her bottom, (which he'd barely managed to grab hold of even a quarter of, due in some small part to his small hands and mostly due to her curves,) then bent over slowly, her deep bunnysuit-wrapped cleavage bouncing from the movement, smiling directly into his drunken expression without an ounce of fear. "Ah-Ah-Ah, dear customer; Touching is Extra."

This seemed to get through some portion of the man's drunken brain, as he immediately fumbled for his wallet and held out a couple wrinkled hundred dollar bills, making her eyes light up briefly and stealthily in well-concealed greed. "Oh! Well in that case, dear customer..." she tucked the money slowly into her cleavage, smiling seductively at him, then pulled him out of his seat with a sultry giggle before leading him off into a side room; everything about her demeanor told him she was pleased by his attentions, from her delighted giggles to her breathy and playful moans when he grabbed at her while they walked. Everything but the way she smelled; Determination and Adrenaline were dominant in her emotions, not lust or even amusement.

"Who was that?" I murmured my question, but the old man across from me, the one who'd flinched when she'd been grabbed, heard me clearly. As a cousin of mine, we had similar skills, though not exactly the same, so his ears and my nose were similarly sharp.

"That'd be Candy, Sir. Lovely girl, bright as neon."

"And just as false, it would seem..."

He scoffed softly, shaking his head at my naivety, perhaps. "Isn't that her job? Make the Drunken Idiots happy so they give up their wallets?"

"True..." I watched curiously as she exited the side room once more, reapplying her lipstick with one hand and casually tucking a thick fold of money into her cleavage, where it seemed to disappear entirely. Within moments, she'd found another drunken victim, actively moving herself into his orbit to interrupt him from groping a different waitress. A similar exchange followed, and a different side room became their destination, breaking my line of sight and making me blink in confusion; I didn't often care about the opposite sex, but she was... intriguing. "Still, she's impressively industrious... most of the girls here are avoiding the people grabbing at them; she's actively profiting off of it... clever girl."

Another of the men next to me on the semicircular couch seized the opening of the conversation to get what he'd been after the whole time, tossing his boss's hat in the ring. "Speaking of clever girls, Sir Tomoi, have I introduced you to my protege, Lady Sarah of the Harold Clan? She's a third child, of course, but incredibly gifted with a bow, she'd make a wonderful Awakened Ranger,-"

I tuned out most of the ensuing conversation, as the others vied for my attention to their preferred person, but my eyes followed the bouncing bunny ears as they appeared briefly every few minutes, and eventually returned, settling our drunken colleague into his chair and giving the rest of us a subtle glance. When her eyes landed on me, she flinched slightly to find me looking at her eyes, a pair of gorgeous verdant greens, instead of her jiggling breasts or hips, which I much was less interested in. "What's your name?" I asked on impulse, unable to restrain my curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow at me, then shifted to a sultry smile, lounging on the arm of my chair with a sinuous grace. "Why, a gentleman should give his own name first, shouldn't he?"

"... Isaac, of Clan Tomoi."

Her eyebrow rose a little again at the archaic phrasing, but she retained her 'business' expression. "That's a handsome name, mister Isaac! You can call me Candy, if you like. Do you need anything... else?" Her body stretched slowly as she leaned up against the back of my chair, leaving her thigh across the arm of the chair so that her full height was in play next to me.

"... no, I don't believe I am your type of customer, Miss Candy. I simply find you curiously interesting, and yes, beautiful, but I won't interfere any further tonight with your... rather thriving business, it seems, but I think I will give you this." On a whim, I pulled a small black business card out of my pocket, handing it to the confused woman casually, even as the people standing next to me all stiffened and stared at her like wolves staring at a wounded rabbit.

She stared at it for a few moments, then glanced up at me with a small smile even as a small amount of adrenaline poured into her body. "Oh? A private appointment? Those cost at least Quintuple, Mister Isaac... but you look like you can afford my rates."

Her matter-of-fact tone surprised a wolffish smile out of me, and I smelled her adrenaline spike again. "Do I? Enlighten me, Miss Candy?"

She stared at me for a few more silent moments, then bluntly stated numbers, with a straight face, that I wouldn't have entertained for anything less than a gold watch. "Twenty thousand an hour for a Private Session, Fifty if your friends are joining us, and fifty more if there's more than five... guests. Half upon scheduling, half upon arrival."

It was my turn to raise an incredulous eyebrow, a surprised laugh stalling in my throat as I took in her totally serious expression. After a few silent moments, I nodded and pulled out my wallet, counting out ten thousand dollars in cash in a flash of movement that she followed with a slight widening to her eyes, but no other expression changes, showing a masterful command of herself. Done counting, my wallet mostly empty, I held out the fold of money to her politely. "Alright... Tomorrow at Noon, be at that address, dressed professionally. Is that acceptable?"

She took the money slowly, weighing it in her hands and then tucking it again into the apparently infinite pocket within her cleavage. "Noon, tomorrow... it's a date, Mister Isaac; Don't make a lady wait!" With a parting flirty wave to my drinking companions and a curious glance back at me again, she disappeared into the crowd, going back to work with professional ease while the men around me stared at me like I'd just kicked their dog.

"Something special about her, hm? You plan on... getting your money's worth?" Torbjorn raised one salt-and-pepper eyebrow at me, amused and curious in equal amounts.

"If you mean sex, then no, I'd never dream of paying for something so pointless... Excuse me, gentlemen, I have to call my Mother; Family Business, you understand." Escaping into the alley outside the business, my phone rang only twice before a deep and husky woman's voice sounded on the other side.

"Hmm? What is it, Isaac? Have you gotten into trouble? Has Torbjorn fallen off of a building again?"

"No, mother. I need you and father to be at my office tomorrow at noon, I have a meeting set up with a woman named 'Candy'... she's interesting, and I'd like both of your opinions on her."

"... Candy?"

"Yes, that's her name, for now. I imagine that'll change, once I offer her the position of my Protege."

"... ... ... I see. I'll be there. Your father, however, is in Cambridge until tomorrow, dealing with our European Branch's Audit Problem-"

"Call him back."

"... ... ... How interesting this woman must be, to make you so assured... we will all be present." The call ended, and I tucked the phone into my pocket, glancing around and sniffing the alley for any hangers-on. Besides the scent of several dozen different kinds of alcohol mixed into vomit and urine, it was clear of any living beings, so I bent my legs a little and leapt up onto the roof of the adjacent six-story building, leaping through shadows, across rooftops, and between skyscrapers, as I crossed the entire span of the city in mere minutes.

—

I was full of an indecipherable feeling, sitting at my office desk and waiting impatiently as the hands of the clock clicked steadily along the path from 11:52 to 11:53. Was it Fear? Fear of what, rejection? That she would take the money and run? No, the steel in her gaze had been real. She would show up at precisely Noon. Then maybe Curiosity? I wanted to know what drew me to her, that was true enough, but beyond that I had no reason to be interested in her.

Father had always had a knack for understanding my stern silences, as I had learned them from his wife of fifty years now, so he spoke up from his place sitting on the soft leather couches in front of my desk, with Mother and Hester, my younger sister. "Women are mysterious creatures in general, my son, but this one seems... complex. Are you quite certain of your choice?"

"Certainty requires knowledge; I am acting upon instinct, and am therefore unsure, only motivated." The intercom buzzed softly, directing my attention towards a small system as I answered. "Isaac."

"Sir, I have a... a 'Miss Candy' here to see you? She has your card, and she says she has an appointment, but she's very suspicious, and the contents of her bag are..."

Amusement swelled in my chest for a moment; I'd been right, she was on time and even a little early, knowing she might be delayed. Intelligence was the sexiest trait of all, after all. "She is expected at Noon for our appointment; guide her to my office."

"Oh! Of course, Sir! Right away, Sir!"

"Candy? What kind of name is that?" Hester snorted softly, the brat as usual.

"No more odd than Hester, brat. Now don't be rude, or you'll be leaving."

She frowned at me, riled up instantly. "You can't make me leave, Mother brought me-"

"To my office, yes, I'm quite aware. If you're rude to my guest, you will be leaving, and I'm sure Mother will have words with you about your total lack of decorum later." That was sufficient to shut her up, and just in time, as the door was opened by Avid, the head of our security detail, a stocky Burmese man who took his duties just seriously enough.

"Sirs, Madame's, I've brought one 'Miss Candy' for a 12 O'Clock meeting with Sir Isaac?"

"Yes, show her in."

Stepping around him came a very different woman than the bunnysuit-clad strumpet from last night. Instead of a tight ponytail designed to show off her throat and probably also to provide a hand-hold, she now wore her gorgeous auburn hair in a professional bun placed primly at the back of her head and held in place by a pair of black sticks. Forgoing the latex outfit, she now removed her long overcoat to reveal a tight, professional pencil skirt down to her knees and peach-colored blouse that accented her pale and lightly freckled skin nicely. A silver silk cravat held the neck of the blouse closed and covered some of her bountiful breasts, the brightly colored silk drawing some attention naturally away from her chest and perhaps towards her throat or the surprisingly toned stomach or biceps hugged by the tight blouse, but still not to her face, where a pair of half-moon eyeglasses sat on her cheeks and nose comfortably.

Setting her coat on the arm of one of the couches, she looked around slowly at the other people in the room before placing a duffel bag that smelled of latex and silicone beside it. "Before we continue, Mister Isaac... you will recall that you paid for a Private Session? You are free to increase my pay to offset this no-doubt clerical error, but I assure you nothing shall continue until such errors are corrected and I have received the final payment."

Before I could respond in an affirmative, Hester decided to scoff, speaking sideways to a disapproving Mother. "Who does this bitch think she is?"

I narrowed my eyes at her disrespect, but I needn't have worried; Candy was more than capable of handling one bratty girl. As Hester was looking at mother, she didn't see Candy approaching her and reaching out, one hand grabbing her ear sharply and dragging her up to her feet, ignoring the petulant whining that followed. "You are perhaps a bit too bratty for all but my most robust of services, and I simply don't have the time today with just an hour to break you like the cheap glass your facade of confidence clearly is, so I have a simpler solution that benefits everyone." Without even looking at the rest of us, she marched the young woman to the still-open door by the ear and then tossed her out with one firm and hardy slap on the rear to send her sprawling onto the rug beyond the door. Turning back to the room as Avid stepped out and closed the door behind himself, she smiled radiantly. "Now, with that rather unpleasant girl gone, let's return to business, yes? Mister Isaac; will you be expanding my contract into a ménage-quatrois and paying the difference, or will these two lovely guests be leaving the room?"

"No, they are merely... spectators, and there will be no Ménage of any sort; I invited you here for a very specific reason, and that reason is a Job Offer."

She blinked slowly, maintaining her seductive pout as she made her way to the couch and sat down with the same grace and predatory patience she'd shown last night. "Oh? I suppose that is a depressing conclusion, but something of a predictable one... my rates per night at the Silk Glove are 3,000 a night, plus tips generally ranging in the 10-15,000 range, plus at least two Private Sessions a Day, totalling on average 50,000; thus, if whatever job offer you have planned cannot offer similar or increased pay alongside reduced hours, I will have to respectfully decline, take the ten thousand you owe me for my time, and go to my next appointment, wherein there are twelve men from Brazil waiting for me to suck their souls out of their cocks, and they are willing to pay me 120,000 dollars for the service of draining their balls for them; in other words, Mister Isaac, my lip-service costs money, and I won't be continuing this conversation if you cannot increase the efficiency of my collection of said money, or if you cannot pay me what I am due."

Father choked on his tea at the blunt description of her work, while Mother simply raised one eyebrow, nodding seriously as if she was impressed. "Quite the Schedule, Dear... we mustn't keep you from such exhilarating adventures for long, Hmm?"

"Indeed; Mister Isaac, your response?"

I cleared my throat and opened a drawer of my desk, withdrawing the second half of her payment and carrying it over to her. "My business offer is one of alternative means, to be honest; do you know what the Awakened are?"

Her adrenaline shot through the roof, and even though her expression didn't twitch in the slightest, remaining business casual at its finest, I could smell the potent fear working its way through her body. "... yes, I am aware of the Awakened. Are you offering me a position at a cathouse exclusively for Awakened Gentlemen and Ladies? That must pay... quite well, yes?"

It was my turn to blink slowly, my right eye twitching slightly around the scar that parted it deeply. "I don't imagine companionship would be cheap in such a place, and they do exist, but no, I'm offering you the chance to be my Protege, and join the Ranks of the Awakened yourself. What you do after that is, of course, your own prerogative, so long as it benefits our Clan. There are many options, of course, as the Awakened are a multifaceted portion of society that has their own system for almost anything you could require; we can offer you whatever you would ask for, from housing to caring for your elderly parents so that they never have to worry about anything, and if you are particularly productive, we can even offer you the chance to own your own businesses within what we as a society call -both arrogantly and theatrically,- 'The Waking World'."

The money in her hand very nearly slipped out of her loose, shell-shocked grip, but by some preternatural instinct for greed she managed to grip it with her nails and robotically slip it into her small clutch purse while staring slightly down at me; we were the same height, it seemed, but she was wearing stilettos and was therefore at the height advantage so close together. At first I was sure she was going to bolt, and I was happy I slipped another of my black cards into her stack of money, but then she surprised me by silencing her own adrenaline in an instant, gazing down at me with fresh intensity in her verdant gaze. "Name your Terms, Mister Isaac, and then I shall name mine. Meet them, and we have a deal."