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“Do we really think I’m ready for this?”

Unsurprisingly, Vesper did nothing but silently stare at Calix from his perch on the bookshelf.

Cal had chosen the name for his sylar once they’d settled on the planet Alter, choosing it for its meaning, evening prayer.

Considering where he’d come from and where he currently was, it was funny in a dark humor sort of way.

Or maybe that was just him.

He turned back to the outfits he’d laid out on the single bed in the room he’d been staying in for the past two months.

Calix had sold the golden collar Vesper had been wearing to a trade captain he’d met through his job as a detective.

Fortunately, he’d known what ports they flew in and out of, and with the stolen vehicle, it’d only taken him a few hours to reach the dock.

He’d been just in time to barter and hop on the first spaceship off Emergence.

But he wasn’t thinking about his escape from his past tonight. No, this was about planning for the future.

“Seriously though,” he turned to Vesper once more, “am I ready? Should I call it off and take a couple more weeks to prepare and think it over?”

The sylar yawned, showing its four rows of sharp teeth in the process.

“You’re right.” Cal sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s too late for that. They should be arriving soon, if they aren’t here already.”

Tonight was his first official job as a stimulus.

Alter was a World Ship/planet that was basically one huge red light district.

People came here to let loose, partake in debauchery, and play out their darkest fantasies.

The sex workers were known as stimulus, and were held in higher esteem than on any other planet in any galaxy.

Sleeping with men for money had never been his personal dream growing up, but after a while, Calix had decided it was the right path for him.

He’d spent six weeks in training, had his certificate, and had been assigned his first clients. He couldn’t call it off over cold feet, not after all the work he’d put in to get here.

All the waiting.

Calix had taken work at Misdemeanor, a nightclub in the center of the capital city, in his first month on Alter.

He’d been nothing more than a waiter then, getting to know the ins and outs before daring to move up.

Every club had its own set of rules, with varying levels of intimacy that was allowed between workers and their clients.

Misdemeanor was fine with customers doing some light petting, getting somewhat handsy with the waitstaff, but only so long as the waiter or waitress didn’t give a firm no.

Cal never said no.

Sometimes, he even wished the people who touched him would be a bit firmer.

His boss, a nice woman in her sixties, couldn’t have known he was chasing after the impossible, thinking about the two men he’d left behind.

Wishing it was them touching him at the bar instead of strangers.

She had, however, seen his potential. He’d worked there less than a month before she’d told him about a rare opportunity to quickly rise the ranks. She’d recommended him to Moonward Manor, one of the most prestigious clubs on the planet, with the highest level of pay.

The manor was in a more secluded location, on an island in the heart of a dense forest. The ferry was the only way on or off, which meant if someone missed their window, they’d be trapped for the night.

It was perfect.

Calix lifted his multi-slate and went over his employee checklist for the millionth time.

To help match them with potential clients, every worker had to compile a list of things they were willing and unwilling to do.

Half the reason Cal was so nervous was that he’d assumed he’d have more time after hitting submit, but less than ten minutes after his stimulus bio had been added to the website, he’d been assigned.

The Night Manager of the manor, Gael, had joked it was probably because Cal had checked yes to practically everything. Even the darker shit he said most refused to get into.

Like permanent damage to his person.

He’d selected no for broken bones or dismemberment of any kind, but had clicked yes for things like knife play, blood play, fire play, and even branding.

Calix closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

What if this was a massive mistake?

What if his clients weren’t who he expected? What if they hurt him for real, and not just in a play setting?

What if he allowed someone else to permanently alter his body by tattooing, marking, or branding him and—

No.

“It’s been three months,” he said to Vesper, mostly to distract himself, “and they haven’t come. I can’t keep waiting.”

On the checklist, there was also a box for stimulus to put down how many sexual partners they were willing to take on at once. He’d hesitated the most there, waffling between one and two before finally hitting the button for four—because why not at that point, right?

Tonight, he was entertaining two men whose interests had aligned with his own when they’d undergone the screening process.

Moonward took great care of their employees and ensured every one of their clients was clean and understood the agreed-upon rules.

There was a contract for all of them to sign, and a detailed written scene for how the night would go.

Calix had been in charge of providing the script, though he’d hoped one of the clients would offer to do it for him. He’d kept things fairly simple, not wanting to botch his first attempt by getting overly detailed.

They’d start in the forest on the east side of the manor at eight pm.

The clients had shown interest in a kidnaping/rape fantasy, and Cal hadn’t seen reason not to go along with it.

Hell, it was probably for the best, since he had real-life experience in that department.

Their photos, which he’d received this morning, weren’t bad either.

They were older than him. If he had to choose, he would prefer attractive men in their thirties over some of the other options.

“All right,” Cal scratched Vesper beneath the chin, “for the next few hours, we don’t think about Titus or Aodhan. Clear? We just let the chips fall where they may.”

He stepped out of his room and locked the door behind him before traveling down the long hallway.

Unlike the club he’d started at, this place was quiet this time of night, most guests off with their stimulus in a cordoned off area or their rooms. Calix had booked the first half of the east woods for his session, which would keep others from accidentally walking in on him in the middle of his consensual non-consent play.

Another box he’d checked no on had been for exhibitionism.

Having an audience wasn’t something he was interested in.

As it were, tonight was already going to be difficult to get through.

Gael met him on the stairs, gifting him a friendly smile when Cal bowed his head in greeting. “I’ve gotta confess, I thought for sure you’d chicken out.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“We’re both ex I.P.F,” Gael reminded. “I better than most understand how hard it is to set your old way of thinking aside and fully immerse yourself in a place like this.”

Calix had learned early on that Gael had also once been a detective. Maybe that was why they’d instantly gotten along. He tried not to overthink it. That was his new mindset with everything. To not overthink.

To just let fate decide.

“I trust you’ve screened the clients,” Calix said. “A fellow detective would never let me get in over my head. You agreed I was ready, remember?”

A strange look passed over Gael’s face before he got hold of it, but Cal couldn’t identify what it meant. The second the other man clapped him on the back reassuringly, he forgot all about it.

“Sure, I said you were ready because you insisted you were. But it’s unheard of for a stimulus to refuse to have intercourse with anyone during their training period, you know that, right?

If I were anyone else, there’s no way I would have approved you for work.

If tonight’s going to be too much for you—”

“It isn’t.”

Gael sighed. “Are you sure? I can still adjust your contract and remove some of the more hardcore items. I’m the Night Manager. I won’t let anyone harm you unwillingly. No matter who that person or persons may be. I’m in your corner, got it?”

“Thanks.” Calix returned his smile from earlier. “I’ll keep in touch.”

The man watched him descend the rest of the steps, but he didn’t try to stop him again, and Calix didn’t encounter anyone else the rest of his walk through the manor. The side door slid open, and he stepped out into the cooled night breeze, heading straight for the woods without preamble.

Despite his nerves, he was eager to get this started.

He’d left his multi-slate in his room as per the agreement, so had to make do with the sparse light from the few fairy lights strung up in the trees in this area.

There were also a dozen or so light orbs that floated throughout the woods, sometimes drifting into view, other times lighting up areas too deep in the forest to help him.

There was a path that was taken care of by the groundskeeper, and he stayed on it, keeping his pace steady as he made his way further and further away from the manor’s main building.

They hadn’t set an exact time or place by design, so anticipation and anxiety bubbled within him with each step. Every time he heard a sound, his shoulders would tense slightly, but whenever he looked, there was nothing but the dark forest.

It was almost a half hour later that he picked up on the soft footsteps behind him.

They were close, but not close enough to have him panicking just yet.

He couldn’t tell if whoever was there wanted him to hear, or was still trying to be stealthy, and not wanting to mess up his client's plans, Calix forced himself to keep his gaze straight ahead, pretending not to notice he was being tailed.

Ten more minutes passed before he caught sight of the second stalker, nothing more than a shadow moving between the trees in his peripheral vision. Casually, Cal picked up the pace.

He let them trail him a little longer, enjoying making them wait, but the second he took the sharp left turn up head, he shot into motion. Calix raced down the path, only abandoning it once he heard pounding footsteps following behind.

The shadowy figure appeared again at his side, moving in closer, forcing him to twist in another direction.

He fled, going over the map of the forest he’d memorized as soon as he’d been assigned this playscape.

If he wasn’t mistaken, he was being led toward the lake.

It was an interesting choice if it was being done on purpose, considering it was still a ways away from the manor and pretty far off the beaten path.

Since they’d booked this whole area, there was no reason to seclude him. They wouldn’t be interrupted, his clients had to know that. It was tempting to put an end to it, stop, and confront them, but Cal had waited months for this already.

What was another five or so minutes?

Both men chased him, not bothering to hide their presence now.

They crashed into tree branches and crushed twigs beneath their feet, all the while herding Calix where they wanted him to go.

Like the perfect prey he was pretending to be, he went along with it, stumbling every now and again to keep things interesting, never once breaking character, no matter how badly he wanted to catch a good look at his assailants.

The relief he felt the moment he burst through the tree line and caught sight of the still water of the lake glistening under the full moon was short-lived. He only managed one deep breath before one of the men crashed into him from behind.

Calix went down hard, a heavy weight falling on top of him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. But when he recovered enough to look up, the person on top of him wasn’t either of the men he’d received photos of.

“Hey, Be’urn.” Aodhan grinned viciously above him, as beautiful and demonic as Cal remembered him. “Caught you.”