Page 8 of Outfoxed

But then his interest in abandoning the bounty to keep me stole my breath.

What sort of idiot would pass up a hundred thousand to keep someone like me? Not only did the hot ass bounty hunter need a trip to an eye doctor, someone needed to give him some serious instruction on the value of money.

A hundred thousand would drive most people in the Alley to commit murder. Few would think twice about selling a woman into slavery.

Noah chuckled. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? How much do you know about courtesans?”

“They’re women sold to rich families for marriage, typically. Or to produce children.” I grimaced at that. Nobody wanted to talk about the other side of courtesans—the dark side, where a woman might be passed from family to family to provide children to family lines. The rumors claimed that was rare.

Families didn’t like sharing bloodlines, and once a woman had outlived her usefulness, she disappeared—or was married to the father of her children. Marriage was deemed the honorable route.

That didn’t stop murders of unwanted courtesans from happening.

I suspected most women were sold off as broodmares rather than married.

“It’s much more complicated than that, and your expression tells me you know more than you’re saying.”

On days like today, I really hated Noah Michaels. He made me want to wrap my hands around his throat and shake him until he stopped toying with me because he could. “Women are sex slaves, used to breed better lines. If she’s lucky, she’ll get married to the father of her children. If not, she’ll be dumped—probably murdered. Sometimes, the courtesans are passed around. The lucky ones are like Cinderella, but who knows if Prince Charming is actually princely or charming?”

“That’s a little closer. You’re bitchier than usual. What’s gotten under your skin?”

“I shared a cellar with a bounty hunter because we both decided we’d rather keep each other company rather than keep the company of a ten twister swarm.”

Noah’s brows shot up. “All right. That’s a damned good reason to be bitchy.”

“Must you call it me being bitchy?” I complained. “I’m not being bitchy, unless you’re admitting you’re bitchy all the damned time.”

Grinning, he relaxed in his seat. The wood groaned under his weight. “I was wondering when you’d get tired of that. It took you eight months. You have patience. You’re going to need a great deal of patience if you want to survive as an uncontested courtesan.”

I snorted. “Enlighten me, Noah. What is the deal with this bounty? Why me?”

I had some speculations on the why: my parents would delight in handing me off to someone, although they wouldn’t pay such a steep fee to get me back. Their budget was better counted in pennies.

But if someone would pay for me, they’d be the first in line to kick my ass out the door, and they wouldn’t give a shit about what happened to me.

If there were laws protecting slave women sold to the highest bidder, they’d look for a way to invalidate them out of pure spite.

“That’s always the question, isn’t it? Why you? Why not some prettier, wealthier girl? The answer to that is in your bloodlines. You must have someone in your bloodline with a desirable trait. Nobody cares if the courtesan—or uncontested courtesan—has any magical ability if her parents or grandparents have a desirable ability that might be passed on to her children. Or his children. Men can be courtesans as well, if the heir of a family is a woman. This is not uncommon. Uncontested courtesans are typically gifts from a parent to a child. In your case, there must be a family with an unwed heir somewhere in New York willing to start an auction for you. That means they’re willing to pay out the bounty value to have you brought in, the fees to register you as a courtesan, and then to pay the fee to upgrade your status to an uncontested courtesan. According to the bounty, the fees to register you have already been paid and signed for. This is important for you to understand; you’re safe enough from that paperwork unless you go to the East. Once you cross the boundary, it becomes valid. The first thing a bounty hunter will do is confirm your presence in the East to activate that paperwork. You do not need to sign, either. That’s what the fees do. It pays the transfer of your citizenship to a private ownership status.”

My life had been sold without my consent or knowledge of it. “Is there any information on who did this?”

“I’m sorry. There isn’t. The bounty was issued through a government agency to be legalized. They paid the fee to remain anonymous—an unusual tactic. It likely means a powerful family is interested in you. In good news, this information is not easy to get, and it is not common knowledge. I had to do a lot of digging to find information on your full status. The wealthy families in the Alley will believe you’re up for grabs—and if they beat their paperwork to you arriving in the East, and file it correctly, it might stand against the claims in the East. It would be an interesting court battle. In cases where there are multiple claims filed in different quadrants, the property gets to make the ultimate decision which quadrant she wishes to stay in. This is good for you. It’s rare, but you would have your choice of owner. That is, of course, assuming the other filers do everything correctly. It’s very difficult to beat the circumstances you’re in. It can be done, but just about every loophole in the law books has to be used.”

Life made no sense, but I wasn’t going to argue with Noah on it. If he thought it was good for me, he probably wasn’t lying to me. Probably. The reality that there might be a contest for me in two different quadrants made me wonder even more about Sandro and his motivations. “I’m really worth a hundred thousand to a bounty hunter?”

“You’re really worth a hundred thousand. And that’s just to get you to the auction. I understand enslavement is not ideal, but someone values you a great deal. Vixens are in demand right now, and people don’t even care if you’re a standard hybrid. Hybrids are known to produce shifting children. Your owner and future husband won’t care if you can’t shift. There are worse situations.”

“They could want my dead head, I suppose.” I scratched my scalp, sighing at the muck in my hair. To get a better idea of what was going on and why, I needed to find out the whole story, which meant peeling the information out of Noah one painful question at a time. “When was the bounty issued?”

“Three years ago.”

I frowned. I hadn’t been in the Alley for much longer than three years. “That long? And I’ve been worth a hundred thousand the entire time?”

“No. You were initially registered as a standard courtesan with a twenty thousand dollar bounty. A year ago, your status was upgraded, but the bounty was initially for in the East; it wasn’t until three months ago that it was opened to the entirety of the United States. I presume someone realized you were not in the East.”

I blamed my parents. My parents would’ve started looking for a buyer the instant I’d walked out the door. While they would never admit it, I’d been smart about it. Even from an early age, I’d understood they would betray me. Going to the Alley had been my one true secret, something I’d never even whispered about to another soul.

Had I been wiser, I would’ve believed the truth about the Alley and its lethal storms.