“Esti, I’ve told you that you don’t need to do that.” Esti was cleaning Darius’ room. Again. He kept telling her she didn’t need to, that whatever the effects of the spell he’d cast to keep her from a worse fate, he was not going to order her around, or make her serve him.

She stopped, and came over to where he was working. Studying, really. “Darius, I’m not cleaning your room because I love you. I’m cleaning your room because I’m a meliae.”

Talib leaned back and sighed. Turning a guy away was always — awkward.

“Master, may I ask a question?”

“Sure, Slave. What is it?”

“Is it just because you prefer women that you don’t train men?”

He turned his chair to face her. “Pretty much, yeah. I have trained men in the past, when I was starting out, but it never worked as well, for either me or them. Money isn’t a problem at the moment, so I stick with women — who I enjoy training more.”

Slave nodded. “And you don’t put that in your ads?”

Sunday afternoon I was sitting, staring at that check. Trying to work up the nerve to sign it and send it in to be cashed, to make that gesture that I accepted this role I’d been forced into.

Lily had gone home for the weekend. I missed her. I wanted her around to distract me.

Of course, that was just another gesture that I’d accepted the role I’d been forced into.

My dorm room wasn’t far enough away, at least for my state of mind. Just halfway across campus, not halfway across the world.

Though, that may not have been far enough, if what I suspected about that Russian mafia boss was true…

The room was quiet: My roommate was taking a nap. She’d probably earned it: a full load of classes, as well as memberships in on-campus clubs. The night before I had never heard her come in.