The Shepherd (The Game 6)

Ivy was at the bar. Dressed as a… I wasn’t sure. A doll? A zombie? A doll that was also a zombie?

We walked over there, and Lucian and Penelope commented on Macklin’s painted-on costume, causing me to do a double take at the boy. I’d thought those were clothes. But they were right; it was paint. Macklin, our youngest founding member, had painted fish scales all over his body, in shades of green, teal, and purple.

It was hot.

Then I refocused on Ivy, who was filling compartments with garnishes behind the elevated bartop.

“Three DMs reporting for duty, miss.” I rested my forearms on the bar and snatched an olive from one of the compartments.

She quirked a brow at me, then frowned at all of us. “Didn’t I tell you to show up in costumes?”

What was she talking about? We were dressed up in costumes.

Lucian was dressed as a lawyer; he’d even borrowed a nice suit from KC, his lawyer partner.

“Can’t you tell I’m a lawyer?” Lucian furrowed his brow.

I straightened and gestured to my jeans and black tee, then pulled out a guitar pick from my back pocket. “I’m clearly a rock star.”

Ivy blanched.

“And I don’t need to tell you I’m here as my girl tonight,” Penelope added, smoothing down her dress. A dress that evidently belonged to Ella.

I stole another olive and popped it into my mouth. “So.”

Ivy shook her head at us, a funny sight. Two shits high, full-on zombie makeup, a lace dress in shreds, shaking her head at three Tops. “Sadists are the worst.”

Lucian cleared his throat. “Keep it up, sweetheart. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You seem to forget I’m close with your Owner.”

I chuckled. He was right. We’d let the brats run this thing, but we had no problems keeping a tally of infractions. Preferably one that exaggerated everything they did.

Ivy jutted her chin. “Are you a lawyer, a police officer, or a tattletale, Sir?”

Lucian smiled and adjusted his tie. “Where you’re concerned, I’m all three.”

The girl sighed heavily and reached for something under the bar. “Here are your DM kits. Don’t expect to win any prizes at the costume contest.”

She handed us the usual DM patches we stuck to our chests, only she’d decorated them with pumpkin stickers. We received master keycards too, the ones that opened all the rooms in the estate, whether it was a guest room or playroom.

That explained why they’d stashed away the kink contraptions. The club area was reserved for dancing and drinking; play would be held upstairs in the playrooms.

“I need one DM down here, one upstairs, and one who makes rounds,” Ivy said.

“I’ll be the wanderer,” Penelope said, just as Lucian said, “Count me in for the playrooms.”

I sucked my teeth and shot my friends an annoyed look.

They smiled at me.

I’d be stuck down here, looking at people grinding against one another to club music?

Over seventy-five members had listed themselves as attending. It was going to be a lot of grinding.

“Five minutes till we open the doors, everyone!” Ivy called out. The brats in charge tonight hollered back from their various spots in the house. Kit was in the lobby, Shay yelled from the kitchen, it sounded like. Noa and Cameron were upstairs.

“Is KC here yet?” Noa shouted. “I want him to see my costume!”

“He’s in the cabin, little one!” Lucian responded.

Yeah, yeah, everyone was so excited to share the festivities with their loved ones. It wasn’t even Halloween yet—and wouldn’t be, for another couple of weeks.

Kit rushed into the club area, wearing a fighter pilot outfit and a big smile. “There’re so many people outside!”

“I should hope so,” Ivy replied with a nervous grin. “I’ve granted thirteen members a plus-one too. Well, Reese cleared them.”

She was in recruiter mode, in other words.

All right, let’s get this night over with.

I stuck the DM patch to my right pec and pocketed the keycard. “Who’s the bartender?”

“That would be me.” Shay came over from behind us. “I’m flying solo tonight, so I thought I’d mix drinks. Cam’s gonna help me in a bit too.”

That was…odd. Our kink community wasn’t just River and Reese’s home and creation, it was their full-time job. They pulled all the strings. It was their names on the deed.

As everyone scattered to go to their stations, I stayed by the bar and watched Shay open the Little Bar attached to the wall. A wide cabinet filled with treats and tiny glasses for colorful cocktails. Essentially, everything a Little could want.

“Where are River and Reese tonight?” I asked.

“Uh, they had to go somewhere. A family emergency.”

That wasn’t a good lie. River and Reese didn’t have much of a family. They didn’t speak to their pop, their mother was dead, and their grandmother, with whom they’d lived while in high school, had passed away.