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Kristy sighs. “He’s a handful. Where the hell are Jude and Fran?”

The back door opens. “Speak of the devils,” Ava says as she rushes over to help get them ready.

“Ah, Trick!” Fran squeals as she runs towards me.

Pike growls, and my stomach swoops at his protectiveness. Has he always been like this?

Fran ignores my demon, though, and picks me up in a bear hug. “I was getting worried.”

“I told you he was fine,” Jude calls out while he undresses from his street clothes. He’s muscular and only wears tiny underwear on stage, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Missed you, too,” I say, though I’m confused. Everyone always kept their distance from me. Oh… but Drake isn’t exactly in charge anymore. Maybe I can make friends now. I give her a grin and take in the dressing room like I’ve never seen it before. Half a dozen people get ready, chatting, helping each other. It’s family.

Tris and Goldie saunter in together deep in some kind of conspiracy theory conversation. I immediately tune them out.

“Sorry we’re late, got turned around on our way here,” Tris says as she pulls back her blonde hair.

Goldie’s already dressed and ready as soon as Sparkle slinks off stage.

Pike tugs my hand and pulls me into a corner where there’s a tiny bit of privacy behind a vanity. “Are you okay with this? I should have asked first.”

“More than okay. I feel like I have a purpose again. I may not be the best in the room or the most interesting.” I give Kristy a quick look. “But I can offer something.”

“You don’t have to glow if you don’t want to. Just do what you’re comfortable doing, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“And Ava said she’d love to teach you how to sew. I told Drake you weren’t confined in the basement all the time, either. I want to take you out.”

I cock a brow. “Out? As in?”

“Will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

My cheeks burn hot as I nod. “I’m no one special.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Trick? You’re on,” Ava says.

Pike disappears and I’m left to process what he just said. You’re special to me.

It’s almost as good as his soft kisses.

“Trick?” Ava says again, and I give her a little wave of thanks as I rush through the curtain to the stage.

I’m not special. Not in the least. Not in the human realm, and certainly not in the Fae lands. I’m just Lark. Plain simple Lark.

Instead of grabbing the pole like I usually would, I walk right up to the edge of the stage and plop on my bottom. My wings fan out behind me and I push my magic to make them glow faintly.

The audience is all mine.

Some days when I’m bored in the basement, I use my illusions to act out the stories in my head. Stories where a brave Fae soldier comes and saves me, but ultimately I get to save myself.

Tonight, though, I build a huge dragon with wings that span the entire room. My magic sings through me. Illusions are easy. They take less effort than glowing, but still require sunshine.

The witches drinking their steaming brews watch with twinkling eyes, no doubt wondering at the power it takes to create a dragon illusion and make it move. I sway my hands over the floor, making the dragon fly through the room. One of the witch familiars hisses before the dragon flies right through it. I set the dragon to fly without my influence and push to my feet. I can feel the stares on my ass as I walk to the pole and start the next part of my performance. My wings shine brighter and brighter with each practiced movement.

I show every person here what’s possible when I get what I need. My music slows and I wind down the pole before it ends. The crowd throws money as my dragon illusion fades out. I may not be a courtesan, but I can still enthrall a crowd like I’ve been trained.