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smelled in one location ever. They didn’t tend to come in groups. They seemed to be more solitary in their habits. Unless they were working toward a very bad common goal.
    Keep your head down. Get some cash and get out , she repeated in her head again and again.
    She snuck past a group of men and darted down an unmanned area, walking down the dimly lit corridor. Now that she was inside, the wards keeping those passing by the warehouse from hearing what was going on inside were gone. She could hear other women talking. Her heightened sense of hearing permitted her to often hear more than she wanted to. It had first started when she was a child, and it had scared and overwhelmed her. She’d heard every voice around her. The tick of every clock. The beat of every heart. She’d curled into a tiny ball and cried. Her adoptive parents took her to a special doctor.
    Looking back, Inara had doubts even then about the doctor and her adoptive parents. There were always shady glances, conversations taking place far from her, and back-room dealings. Something had been off, but she’d not pieced it all together.
    “You look like a tramp,” a girl said to another, the voice carrying down the corridor, pulling Inara from her memories of the past. “We’re supposed to look hot, not like skanks.”
    “Bitch, I know you’re not talking to me,” another girl returned.
    “Should you refer to me as a bitch again, there won’t be enough of you left for the people here to piece back together,” the first returned, sounding calm, as though she had years and wisdom on her side.
    Inara steeled herself as she moved back the dingy curtain to the ring girl area. The curtain smelled of smoke and sex. She didn’t want to know what it used to be. Probably a bedspread in a seedy hotel. She moved past it quickly, wanting it away from her as fast as possible. She collided with a woman and stepped back, catching the woman before she fell. The woman wore a barely-there dress and a fur coat, of all things. Diamonds worth more than Inara wanted to take a guess at adorned the woman’s ears and neck. Everything about her said she had money and lots of it.
    What the hell was she doing behind the curtain for the ring girls? Women like her didn’t frequent dives like this unless they were on the arms of rich high rollers. Maybe she was lost.
    Within seconds Inara was sneezing. A sure sign the woman was a magik. Of course she was. Probably meant she couldn’t be trusted too.
    The woman’s dark eyes narrowed on her. “You should watch where you are going.”
    Inara simply stared at her. “Sorry.”
    Whatever the woman saw when looking at Inara must have warned her off of starting anything. She nodded. “Be more careful.”
    “Sure thing.” Inara sneezed again. She was going to leave well enough alone but her stomach began to growl loudly. “Hey, they have any food anywhere?”
    Pity slipped over the woman’s eyes. “Oh, sugar, you’re a street rat, aren’t you?”
    She’d become familiar with the term years ago and inclined her head. “Just need some food, then I’ll be on my way.”
    The redhead put her hand on Inara’s shoulder and Inara stiffened. “Come on. I’ve got some food in the back. I bring plenty for my girls. That one over there with the loud mouth is Candy.” The redhead paused. “And if she continues with the attitude, she will be in far worse shape than you are.”
    Inara said nothing as a blonde with too much makeup on finished tying the top of her bikini up. The blonde pressed a smile to her face and picked up a Round One sign. “Don’t mind me, I’m just working for a living.”
    Inara considering punching the bitch. She resisted. Plus, she wasn’t exactly up to it at the moment.
    The redhead sighed. “Some girls are lost causes. But enough of Candy. Let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”
    “I’m good. Thank you.”
    The woman’s lips pursed. “You don’t trust me.”
    Inara said nothing. She’d learned