Time was a fickle beast, cruel when one required succor and soft-handed in times of discipline. On the mornings when alarms and schedules and the scent of instant coffee filled the house, time would present awakening a drudging experience, leaving one to trudge from the comfort of their sheets in a morose mass of unmotivated misery. Yet, when naught was needed and the day was mostly free, more often than not, one's eyes would crack open wide, rested and full of vim and vigor, ready to take on a day rife with nothing.

  Such was the morning Yelz found herself experiencing, her tail lashing beneath the covers twelve hours before shift time.

  "Friggin' crap is this?" Life, as usual, mocked the kobold with its silence. Covers were flung to the floor as Yelz, adult that she was, kicked and flailed like a wet dog, exposing her naked scales to the cool morning air of her apartment. The huff that left her lungs was heavy with fatigue as she shuffled to the slightly warmer carpet to start the day far, far too early. "Nnnngggg. Hnnnngggg! Ugggghhhh…"

  Yelz nearly fell to the floor in her eloquence, both legs threatening to slip into the same leg of her shorts as she hopped from the bedroom to the living room, her ears sticking into the arm hole of a baggy shirt as her muzzle missed the head-hole. It was going to be one of those mornings, one where the milk missed the bowl and the cereal was stale.

  Once again, the kobold opted to go bare-pawed out her front door, not pausing in her empty kitchen to search for food that didn't exist. Bright sunshine hit her scales with a pleasant warmth that had her maw split in a yawn and arms stretched high, back popping oh so wonderfully. Mornings had once been a highlight of her day, now a distant memory in her night shift life. So why was she awake? The world was full of such mysteries…

  "Mmmbluh…" Claws scratched at her midriff, oversized shirt falling around her thighs as pink paws padded a lazy path around the apartment's inner courtyard. No one was out this early; Tolly was off, and most likely… occupied. Johnna too, and probably needed electrolytes. Hershey was most definitely sleeping in, and Patricia was off in the city. Though… Yelz found her eyes snapping to a familiar van, the back doors open and tool boxes scattered behind the oversized wheels.

  Andrew balanced on a ladder not far away, working the wiring of a walkway's light with a pair of grease covered pliers. Red and blue cords dangled in his face, several with fresh connectors just waiting for new homes. Though it was what lied at his boots that stole her attention, a treasure most pure and gilded. At the base of the ladder sat a tall, silver, glistening thermos that smelt of rich, dark-roast coffee. Yelz, of course, preferred the sugary concoctions one could purchase in the city, but coffee.

  She said nothing as she padded right up to the man's ladder, gripped his thermos in two paws, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip.

  "Can I help ya?"

  "Mnugh. Stale cereal."

  "Wha- the Hell ya o-"

  "Gas station picnic."

  "What's gotten into ya, woman?"

  Siiiiiip

  "Ya come over here, spout nonsense, and drink my coffee, all while I'm on a ladder an' can't defend my property."

  "Mhm." Siiiiip

  "Never been so offended." Nevertheless, Andrew returned to his delicate wiring job, gently bumping the hanging bulb away with his forehead. "Alright, spill."

  "Mmmnnn- after coffee." Siiiiip

  "Fair. You look way more tired than usual."

  "Thanks." Her glare earned a chuckle, the man not threatened in the least. She wondered if the same would hold true if she started shaking his stupid ladder. Or… or stuck her tongue in his coffee and gave it back!

  "Now there's a fire I haven't seen in ya." Said fire fizzled away as Yelz took another sad sip of someone else's coffee, Andrew raising yet another eyebrow at the morose lizard. "That bad?"

  "Mhm."

  "Wanna talk about it?"

  "Nuh-uh."

  "Alright then. Ai'n't gonna go away though."

  "Ngh. Where's Pringles?" Siiiiiip. Yelz knew that, though she wished Andrew was a bit more like Johnna. Easy to make her smile, fun to be around, someone to make her forget, for a while, how crap everything was. Not… this. Not trying to make her focus on her problems. Sure, that's probably what adults did, but she didn't want to bother with that, not with work and Wild Gregs and that lonely drive looming half a day ahead. A twist in her gut whispered how right the handyman was though. Or, maybe that was the coffee. It was really dark. Coughs interspersed each sip, not that it discouraged the theft, coffee slowly vanishing with each tip of the thermos until Yelz settled into lapping at the tenebrous liquid like a cat.

  "You better leave some for me. That ai'n't the cheap stuff." Andrew returned the kobold's glare before pointing to his van with a pair of pliers. "Asleep back there. He stayed up too late last night playing board games to be useful."

  "Imma drink it all, you grouch."

  "Thieving lizard."

  "Come down and stop me then." Andrew chuckled at the sudden flare that burned in the kobold, so often gentle and passive. A few twists of his wrists saw the lightbulb returned to its receptacle, once more shining an easy orange beam. He'd set the timer for night time later.

  "You know I could throw you in the pool, right?" Boots crunched grit into the metal steps of the ladder as Yelz sidled aside, making room for the man next to her on the sidewalk. He took it, grunting as she scooched up against him, tail around his waist.

  "Mhm. Are ya?"

  "No… give me my thermos."

  "Only if you hold me." An arm draped over her shoulders as Andrew reclaimed his coffee, taking a generous gulp as paws gripped at his shirt, Yelz laying her head on his chest as best she could.

  "Now I know something is wrong. Or are all kobolds this touchy?"

  "No one is saying multiple things can't be true at the same time."

  "And you expect me not to worry when ya talk like that?" The arm tightened, a breeze forcing the kobold closer for warmth.

  "I said I don't wanna-"

  "Yelz, if you don't want to-"

  "Talk about it. Just hold me."

  "Talk about, then quit making me worry."

  "Uggghhhhh…" Yelz flopped across the nosy man's lap, rough jeans scratching at her chin. "Andrew!"

  "Yelz. Problems don't go away 'cause ya ignore 'em."

  "Fine! Frick…" Scales rubbed on cloth as she rolled to her back, looking up at the man from below. "You smell like Hershey…"

  "We still see each other." Blunt. Not sharp… honest?

  "Oh." Eyes darting, heat rising to her face.

  "Right. We're not together we just enjoy each other's company. But I doubt you wanna hear about someone else's night time escapades?"

  "No…" Twiddling, it was something she'd never done before. No better time to start then now. "Money's tight. Gregs is getting… rough. Johnna and Tolly got together last night."

  "Hell yeah, been waiting for Johnna to quit being a bitch." Andrew's smile crinkled the skin at the edge of mouth, his cauliflower ear twitching. Yelz glanced at the bulbous skin… he'd grown up rough, it seemed. "What's this about Gregs?"

  "Only if you promise not to go barging in-"

  "I'll decide that."

  "Quit interrupting!" A pink paw slapped the man's chest, his chuckle dying at the lizard's glare. "Don't go barging in there, you'll just wind up in jail and make things rougher." Andrew frowned, scowled… grimaced… nodded. "I don't think Greg is going to give me my post-probationary raise. He keeps trying to force me down to dance on the ground floor and be for… rent-"

  "He fuckin' what?" Andrew had a vein that pulsed in his forehead when he got angry. She wanted to poke it.

  "Hey! What did I say?" A clench at his shirt… both to ground him… and her. "I know… I'm glad you're pissed for me though."

  "Of course I am. That greasy little fuck ball- fuck, I hate Greg."

  "Don't I know it. I need that raise, I banked on it to cover rent and groceries and everything." Yelz curled a bit, snuggling into Andrew's lap. He hadn't pushed her away…

  "Are you good? You need a spo-"

  "No! No, I'm good. Promise. Rent is freaking awesome here. I'd work anywhere else but there's no openings. Not that pay anything other than minimum wage at least. I just gotta get through probationary." Andrew nodded, placing his hand in the only free spot available, Yelz's side.

  "You got a plan? Nothing gets better if you don't work at fixing it."

  "I'm gonna talk to Tracey, see if she has any ideas. If I make myself more profitable in accounting than on the floor shaking tail, he'll keep me upstairs." Andrew spit, anger broiling in the man. It made her feel… good.

  "Don't trust Tracey completely. Everyone in Wild Gregs watches their own ass."

  "Hah. That's what she said the first day I got there." Wind took over the conversation as the duo lapsed into silence, Yelz sinking into his lap further.

  "Hey, if you need help, call my number. I'm maintenance. I fix shit."

  …

  …

  …

  "Pffft… that was so cheesy… but, I will."

  "Baaah, get offa me. I got lights to fix." Yelz giggled as she was gently deposited onto the warm concrete, a fifty dollar bill sliding into her pocket.

  "H-Hey."

  "You're lighter than were. Go to the city before work. Get real food, not gas station shit." His glare was hard, stern… but not unkind. Yelz returned it, cheeks puffed out and ears limp. In the end, her tail wilted with a nod. Without a word, she turned, and stomped off towards her loyal Acura.

  "Dumb human, how'd he even notice." The fire died in the reptile's gut, her paw shaking as she grabbed the car's handle. "I've lost weight." It was true, her pajama's weren't worn out. Her work uniform wasn't getting broke in. She was thinner.

  Thinner…

  Lighter…

  She wasn't making it. She didn't have the food to keep this up.

  "You got a plan? Nothing gets better if you don't work at fixing it."

  "Ai'n't that the truth…" Yelz pulled the fresh fifty dollar bill from her pocket, the green stark against her pink scales. A hand out- no… a friend helping a friend. This was how people made it. Matriarch would say as much, Hershey too, Patricia most assuredly. Andrew already had. Needed this, she needed the help. With reborn vigor, Yelz squeezed the money tight in a fist, determined to turn it into the last helping hand she needed. Adventurers were a party, and she'd just gotten a buff, that was all! Andrew was a… a… a tank! A tank-healer! Support and structure! Now it was time to take her refilled health and get some work done…

  "You got a plan? Nothing gets better if you don't work at fixing it."

  By the First Scale, that was true… it was so true… so what was she doing? Hoping Tracey would save her? The Acura bounced as Yelz shut the door, her maw set in tight line while thoughts ran rampant in her pink, little head. What was she doing? Going to someone else was useful, sure, but… Andrew would call that passive. No, no no no, it was padding. Something she should be doing in tandem with something real. What was she doing?

  Crying a lot.

  Promising herself it was just the probationary period.

  Relying on food from elsewhere, like Johnna's gas station.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Look at the numbers, Yelz. You're an accountant, an analyst…" Gas and Gaskets passed by in a blur, trees painting into a green smear outside her window as the Acura purred. "Andrew is right. What am I doing?"

  Two months, three days, were left in her probationary period before Greg had to give her a raise. In that time, she was already losing weight. The pace was untenable. At that… there was no guarantee Greg wouldn't fire her and hire another accountant. His push to get her to dance was transparent, something was gonna come up, some reason he couldn't keep her on but, ooooh, look at that, an available spot for a dancer. Greg seemed like the type to try and force his way or the highway, but Yelz couldn't for the life of her think of how he'd play the game. Surely Tracey would have warned her of a revolving door of low level accountants?

  "Don't trust Tracey completely. Everyone in Wild Gregs watches their own ass."

  "Hmmm…"

  Greg was the problem. Everything came back to Greg being the problem. If she were confident that a raise was her reward after ninety days at Wild Gregs, Yelz wouldn't even bat an eye… but it wasn't her piece of cheese at the end of this maze. Not for sure, at least. And a maybe wasn't enough.

  She was tired of crying.

  She was tired of being hungry.

  She was tired of relying on her friends to bail her out.

  She was tired of feeling weak.

  Andrew was right… Johnna was so funny and he helped her forget, but when the laughter died down and the meet ups were over, the empty apartment waited like the maw of hungry beast. Tolly was similar, warm and inviting, her family always ready to catch her in their claws. She felt safe there, focused on something other than herself. Still, the apartment waited, with the dusty budget book on the dinner table that made her eat on the couch to avoid looking at it. Hershey… bless every one of the dragon's scales, she made her feel so safe.

  Wanted.

  The older dragon listened and said just the right thing to make her feel better. Every inch of Yel'z tiny kobold body wanted to give in and submit wholesale to the dragon, just like Hershey said she'd let her do… but, she'd be cared for. Taken care of. That wasn't the life she wanted. Andrew was right, if things were going to improve, then the only person who could make things better for her was herself. No one was going to save her. Help, sure… but nothing more than a too small bandage on a wound she refused to clean.

  It had to be her.

  Angry tears rolled down Yelz's cheeks, wiped away as Alysia loomed on the horizon. No sniffling, no crying, just… tears. Exhaustion didn't weight at her, nor did despair, the tears just flowed from squinted eyes. So too, did determination. The thought of her friends smiling approval as she fixed herself up. Oh… now, that balmed her soul. She wanted Tolly to cheer her on, Elky and Weny and Heny and Kolky doing the same around her paws. She wanted Johnna to tell her the next chicken on a stick wasn't free, 'cause he knew she'd made it. That she could buy it without breaking the checkbook. She wanted Hershey to be proud of her, like her Matriarch, to smile and nod in approval. She wanted Andrew to give her that lop-sided grin and a thumbs up and Pringles to clap his grabby little paws…

  Concrete walls replaced green trees as traffic slowed the Acura to a crawl, Alysia welcoming the kobold with towering skyscrapers that cut into the horizon. Houses replaced the flat landscape first, then gas stations and strip malls, before gradually morphing into a sprawl of gray and movement. Cars of every shade, most being white or gray or black, lined the streets like clogged worker ants, honking at passerby. In a way, the driver's seat was a refuge from the bustle outside.

  Yelz's destination was a quaint little store on the outskirts built beside a cozy karaoke bar, one she dared not enter but liked to peek in on. An older couple ran the store, selling goods cheaper than the big chains during their twilight years and listening to the music, for better or worse, that flowed from next door. Parking wasn't a terrible commodity away from the city center, so finding a spot free from the traffic behind the store was simple enough. A quick moment, nothing more than a catching of a breath and wiping the last of her tears away.

  Overcast clouds, once again, blocked the sun as her bare paws padded along dirty concrete. She'd have to do a full pedicure suite soon. Ohhhh, Hershey could help! The dragon had immaculate paw pads, so soft that Yelz was not jealous. As usual, music wafted from the connected karaoke bar like a gentle breeze, the amateur night already in full swing. Easy drink, happy songs, and the mirth of a working class trying to forget the day filled its walls like a fine smoke. One particular patron, a fellow kobold of stark white scales and a disheveled business suit, stood proud on the bar while belting a perfect falsetto, his voice high and clear. It was obvious the guy was drunk, but he didn't seem to care, channeling what would normally have been mortification into pure musical talent.

  "Wow, that guy sings like someone has a gun to his head…"

  A bell announced her entrance to the familiar family store, an old man waving from behind prodigious eyebrows at the counter. He didn't say anything, he never did, but his smile was warm and the prices were fair. That was enough for the kobold. Meats filled the basket she'd acquired by the front door, cheeses and breads and condiments. Jerky and nuts and long lasting soups, each item rallying up a tally in Yelz's head as she calculated prices and taxes.

  Twenty seven dollars and six cents…

  Thirty nine, eighty…

  Forty four and twelve…

  While Andrew's fifty was charity, there was no way she was going to waste it. Not to mention, Tolly should pay her soon for babysitting… probably should have waited for that so as not to have to drive back over… but still. Things were okay for now, she could stretch the money with sandwiches and fill them with all her dietary needs. Meats and sardine's for protein and scale health, vegetables for fiber and nutrients, condiments for taste. Maybe a chocolate bar as a little treat?

  Forty nine and ten…

  Yelz looked at the chocolate bars by the front counter. A Hershey bar, ironic, which made her mouth water more than it should in polite company. Stoic, the old man rang her up until nothing was left but her paw holding Andrew's fifty… and her eyes glued to the bar sitting next to so many others. Without a word, the old man reached over and plucked a single, shining bar and set it in her bag without adding it to the price.

  "He- no, wait! I'm just being a sweet tooth, ah…" His finger, wrinkled and knobby, waggled in her face. "Ahhhh… fine, thank you Mister Timo. You're the best." A thumbs-up was her reward. "Love you, too, Mister Timo." Loot in paw, Yelz returned to the city at large, passing by the bar where the white kobold now sat sheepish and surrounded by friends who seemed to be playfully bullying him. Or, at least, Yelz hoped it was playful. Time blurred into a smear of off-grays into gentle greens, the Acura purring like never before as Yelz made the return trip still deep in thought. Fire-spun determination had tempered into a razor focus, her thoughts turning away from I must do something to a more dedicated What do I do?

  As before, Greg was the issue, he needed to go. Most likely to take his place if such a power vacuum occurred was Tracey. How was the question, and how to do it without implicating herself. Of course, Yelz had the key to kingdom right in her little broom closet office… the very books Greg used to keep track of his money. Enough rumors swirled about the games played with money and Yelz had an inner eye right there to observe. Wasn't all perfect, Tracey had full access while only allowing Yelz what she needed.

  And… Tracey was still out with the flu.

  Perfect.

  "I'll need to do a little recon, maybe… see what the dancers down on the floor say about Greg? Could make it look like I'm probing them for what it's like to work on the first floor…" The walls of the Acura bore no answer for the kobold, her words meant for her own ears alone. Fear built in her chest, not enough to wash away her newfound focus, but enough to make the toes of her paws curl on the custom accelerator. Going to the first floor was a dangerous prospect. Anyone could mistake her for a worker or dancer, most kobolds in Wild Gregs were on the menu. She'd have to make quick feet to the dancers back room… maybe a guard could escort her? Gas and Gaskets was a more welcome sight than she remembered, a creeping dread wrestling with the devious plans forming in her scaly noggin. It would be a brave, sneaky thing… but it was act or agree to Greg's terms. Or… find another job, but nothing paid like Wild Greg's. By design perhaps, had she fallen into a trap? It didn't matter, only forward. "This kobold will have to cross-class into rogue!"

  Whatever plans she still had, whatever scheme or strategy, melted away at the sight of Johnna in the parking lot. The man reared back a leg, launching a scratch-covered ball out into the grass behind the apartments with a solid THOCK of boot on plastic. Kolky dashed after the sphere like a bird gone mad, beak agape, claws outstretched, pouncing upon the ball with such force his little body bounced head over tail into a tumble of feathers and fur and paws. To his credit, the little gryphon righted himself without pause, turning to donkey kick the ball back with a screech. Talons tore at the grass as he bounded back, overtaking the toy to launch himself into Johnna's chest.

  "Need a break, champ?" Kolky flinched, subtle and small, moisture collecting in his avian eyes before squinting in anger. He was a tough bird! Tough birds didn't cry cause they were called champ… he was a tough bird that stuffed his head under Johnna's chin and squeezed for all his worth.

  "Break? For Kolky? No. Gotta get strong. Strong enough to fly Johnna to roof! Yes."

  It was a sight Yelz had to look away from, a warm smile crossing her muzzle as she parked her loyal Acura. Kolky deserved Johnna… and Johnna deserved Kolky. If there were any lingering embers of jealousy over giving up the man, they faded into silent ash as Johnna set his son down and reared back to give the ball another kick.

  Pringles had taken Andrews place for the afternoon, the little ratman perched on a much taller ladder than his human counterpart to finish changing out the light fixtures that lined Patricia's Palace sidewalk. An orange beam shined down on the rodent's fur as Yelz jumped from the drivers seat, her paws pittering a dance on the hot asphalt as she scrambled to the cooler grass nearby, paws full of grocery bags.

  "Hey, Pringles."

  "Yelz! Good to see you!" As always, sunglasses balanced on the rat's muzzle like a ballerina on a tight-rope, even as the sun began to set. Soon, Yelz would have to be on her way once again to Wild Gregs. "Car running good? No chugging, jumping, hitching?"

  "Nope, purrs like a dream."

  "Skt-Ch-Ch-Ch!" Fur stood on the rat's neck as he touched a live wire, thought it didn't seem to bother him much, his claws making quick work of rubber covers and splices. Spark danced along his paws, worry filling his kobold onlooker as a full body shiver coursed through him, nose to tail.

  "Pringles? Is that… safe?"

  "Sure. Long as I don't un-ground myself, I'll stay in one piece. Though, if I had metal in my hand or this ladder didn't have rubberized steps… ka-boom!" Snickers wriggled his whiskers, laughter that did nothing to ease Yelz's worry. "Or zap, as it were."

  "Be careful! Not that… I know what you're doing." A pink nose waggled as Yelz sniffed. Was she imagining things, or did Pringles smell like… Hershey? Why did everyone smell like Hershey?! "I'd hate to find fried rat on my doorstep."

  "Baaahhh," The setting sun drew Pringles attention away, his tail whipping in dismissal. "Ai'n't ya got work soon?"

  "Yup. Back to the dungeon."

  "Hnng!" Yelz took a step back as Pringles… waved his arms like a bird? "That place is bad. I know everyone already said it, but call Andrew if things get nasty!" The crazed flapping died, replaced by a far off look. "He'll bring the calvary."

  "I appreciate it, and I will." Confusion at the rat's strange behavior still roiled in the kobold as she stepped around his ladder and into her apartment, waving farewell one final time before shutting her door with a huff. "Weird… skrunkly, lil' guy. Okay! Let's get these groceries put up and get my head in the game!"

  Paws slapped her cheeks, her clothes tossed into a pile on the bedroom floor and bare scales covered in business casual; a decent blouse, white shirt, and a skirt replaced by slacks. Let's see Greg oggle my tail through these. A sharp grin crossed her muzzle at the thought of actually pinning the greasy bastard with… with… well, she didn't know what, but she'd find something. It was only a matter of knowing where to look.

  Discrepancies were all well and good, things happened, but nothing that had come across her computer screen had been incriminating of any crime. That's what she needed, something to pin on Greg and give him the little push he needed. Tracey's computer had more access, the dancers on the floor might know some good juice as well, it wasn't like they were treated like queens.

  The drive to Wild Gregs, both familiar and dreadful, giving Yelz even more time to ruminate. How to record anything she found, how to get into Tracey's office, unnoticed, how to get anything she found to the cops… what would happen to other workers who got implicated- no, she couldn't think like that. If anyone was that twisted up with Greg, then they deserved to go down with him.

  Crowds filled Wild Greg's parking lot, as always, the catcalls rolling over the pink kobold's shoulders like water off a duck, more than used to the lecherous gazes of the men and women that loitered around the door. A familiar guard, one she'd never asked the name of, nodded at her approach.

  "Miss, headed up? You're a bit early today."

  "Actually, if one of you could escort me to the back?" Yelz let an ear flop limp, tilting her head just right. Men usually loosened up when she did, for whatever reason.

  "The back? With the girls? Why-"

  "Oh, mind your business!" A glare, returned by a… sad look she endured with more than a little hate.

  "Ah. Greg's fuckin' deal again. I'll have one of the guys shuttle you back there."

  Greg's deal again? How many deals had he made? How many girls had Greg coerced into being put on the menu? It made the skin beneath her scales crawl, with both fear and a newfound anger. Greg was just… gross. She'd pay to see one of the muscle bound males that guarded the warren get a hold of him. Short as they were, two could handle a grown human. Maybe even the Matriarch's mate, ooohhh, he'd put a hole through the greasy punk!

  More than one calloused hand tried to reach for Yelz's shoulder as the pervasive beat of Wild Gregs slammed into her chest, claws swiping and fangs gnashing at anyone who got too close. The guard's shoulder slammed into more than one patron, man and woman alike eyeing Yelz like a fresh meal. One zealous patron slapped a meaty mitt onto the kobold's shoulder, her fangs digging into his knuckles until tooth met bone. The appendage snapped away with an arc of blood as Yelz rushed to the guard's side, hiding behind his thigh. Her offense died as the man was hauled away, the rules roared in his ears. You did not touch the girls on the floor, you ordered them from the menu and got a booth.

  "Sorry about that, here's the back." As quick as he came, the guard vanished back into the crowd, Yelz nearly curling in on herself as she was thrust through a heavy door behind the DJ's stage and found her nose pressed to another kobold's. Painted yellow scales shone with purple highlights and glitter, tired yet sharp eyes glinting with mirth.

  "Hey, one of the top siders!" Women of all shapes and sizes and species turned their heads and muzzles, mostly humans and kobolds. Several called a greeting, mostly teasing, but all welcoming. "The newest in Greg's web?"

  "I'm n-not sure what that means."

  "Ah, ya don't have ta lie to us." A deep rumble came from the back room, a dragon of dark blue scales padding into the hallway to usher Yelz deeper within the girls changing room. A single guard stood vigil back here, his eyes respectfully forward away from the mostly half dressed women. Every kobold dipped their heads to the dragon, their eyes full of admiration, lust… submission… their muzzles brushing the dragon's foreleg as she passed. She was smaller than Hershey, much younger, yet with a sharp fire in her eyes. Yelz had heard her name only in passing; Sapphire, Sade the Sapphire. Every stride was calculated. Measured. Graceful in the same way a scalpel would slide across flesh. As if she were ready to both bolt or drag her claws through your throat. A razor thin smile split the dragon's maw, swipes of green scale paint scrawling tiger stripes down her side. Yelz had watched those curves dance around a pole more than once, elegant as an ocean wave crashing upon a shore.

  As she eyed those paws spread across the floor, Yelz realized she recognized those looks the other kobolds lavished upon Sade… These kobolds were servants. Slaved to the dragon, they'd given themselves to her willingly and eagerly, most likely for protection. That could have been her, that would have been her fate had she given into her instincts for Hershey… suddenly, the chocolate bar sitting cool in her refrigerator back home didn't seem so sweet.

  "S-Sorry, you're Sade, right? I had some ques-"

  "Know ya did, so don't I. Hosie!" Sade's sharp muzzle turned back to hiss at a passing gryphon, her feathers sleek with oil and even more glitter. The bird paid no mind to the lizard, claws scrawling scratches into the concrete floor. Anger… Yelz could feel it from here. A poor woman, back turned, found herself a new place on the floor as the sleek black gryphon shouldered her aside, stomping her way down and out of sight. Moonbeam… Wild Greg's second most popular attraction, black as midnight with naught but a single silver strip from beak to tail, splitting her in half down the middle. A gorgeous hybrid of raven and panther that had Yelz admiring for but a moment before tearing her eyes away in both respect and worry.

  "H… hosie?"

  "It means she's called claim over you." A kobold whispered beside her, a big one. A male, if his scent and size were any indication. Panties pulled tight around his hips and jewelry hung off his tail in trailing gold waterfalls, his claws painted pink that contrasted hard with black scales. Tired eyes smiled down at her, the irises bloodshot. "All us kobolds belong to Sapphire, sweetie. Best way to stay safe in here. You the newest in Greg's web?" His voice was sick with sugar, dripping with faux care that Yelz spotted from a mile away.

  A smile that didn't reach his eyes, the lids as limp as if he were in the depths of a sob. Behind him loitered a crew of leather clad kobolds, all male as well. Yelz had seen women, mostly humans, drag them into the special booths… the ones where chains and ropes were allowed…

  "No no, not… not yet." A lie. "I had questions about Greg, what it's like to work for him." A woman spit, human lithe with muscle.

  "Like working for one of those snakes in the bank." Yelz yelped as her paw was snatched, the anonymous lady dragging her from the hallway into a dressing room proper. "Pop a squat, you look like a sheep about to get gangbanged by wolves." Sade followed, that razor grin still plastered to her maw. She was having fun. It was obvious Yelz had no idea what she was doing, and Sade was devouring the new kobold's nervous aura like a hungry jackal. A possessive glint shone in the dragon's eye, a wanting need to add the pink carton of lemonade to her hoard. Like a jewel, a thing… a conquest.

  Like she was owed something.

  Entitled.

  "Don' worry 'bout nothin'. Every pretty lil' thing Greg sends down here ends up under me, especially kobolds. You will too, but I'll keep grabbers off your tail when ya aren't in a fuck box." Sade's grin grew, her tail coiling around Yelz's leg as the dragon sprawled beside her chair, belly exposed. "Better money down here, an' Greg wasn't gonna do anything for yous up there anyway."

  "Really?"

  "Oh, really. He's always snatching up girls to work the top floor for Tracey, denyin' 'em this or that, an' shoving the poor wenches down here when their bank accounts run dry. Won't be the last. We'll take good care of you." Good care of her… keep her safe and teach her to dance and get fucked in private booths so Greg could make more money. Yelz scowled, her claws clenching at the hem of her blouse. "Oooh ho ho ho, there's a fire. Boys like a firecracker!" Kobolds and women alike laughed at Sade's jab. "I'm just pullin' your tail, sweet little bubblegum. Like that look though, I'll make a bet to try and keep ya from breaking. What ya say? Wanna be mine?"

  Yelz shook her head.

  Shook her head, hopped from the chair, and left without a word.

  Always snatching up girls to work the top floor for Tracey.

  She knew.

  A paw, thick and blue, stopped her.

  "Ay, what's the fire?" Sade's grin was hungry. Needy. Dominating. It filled Yelz's vision in a way Hershey's didn't. No, Hershey was warm, inviting, calm and safe. Sade… was like the maw of yawning beast, ready to devour her whole and take her. Unlike the green sky jewel back home, Yelz didn't feel the need to submit out of a desire to serve and be taken care of, it was out of fear. That is was safer to submit than run. It made her… angry. Pink paws pushed the appendage away with a scowl, ears tight against Yelz's skull. "Oh ho, now that's a fire what get me wet! Can't wait to see ya run outta options and come crawling back ta me." Yelz made to leave again but a thick tail impeded her escape. "First day always the most tellin'. Ya either get even more defiant or ya break, new girls always spend they first day in the private booths, rented over an' over an' over. Ya still gonna glare at me after havin' a parkin' lots worth of cock tear ya in two or will ya come crawlin' ta mah paws weepin'?"

  "Fuck. You." It felt strange to bare her fangs, Yelz realized. A sensation strange and foreign. Diplomacy was her knee-jerk response to stress, but this dragon… she felt like a cornered animal posturing in a desperate hope to be left alone. "Wait, I had questions!"

  "Ha! Hope ya keep tha' fiyah. The boys out front pay bettah for a girl what bite."

  "What's it like working for Greg down here? On the floor." Snickers, and more than a few averted empty gazes, had the pink kobold climbing over Sade's tail. A coiling viper…

  "Ya a tool, don't get it twisted." The dragon shooed away several kobolds and women, all going to slather their scales and skin with make-up.

  Make-up.

  Glitter.

  Perfume to cover the reek of sex.

  Showers running in the back…

  Cover ups… no one here was happy, they were simply surviving. Surviving between the dances and fuck sessions and whatever else was dropped on their heads.

  Yelz felt sick.

  "Why work for him if you h-"

  "Hate it here?" The sugary sweet voice of the blue kobold from before sliced into her ears like the buzzing of a fly. Dabs of eye shadow and lipstick slowly turned him into nothing more than a tall female kobold, the jewelry hiding his gender as he stood before a mirror to prepare himself. "Greg sticks it to you, eventually. Most back here will end up in jail if we don't play his game."

  "Blackmail?" Yelz whisper seemed terrified, yet her heart hammered not in fear, but excitement. That's what she needed. Crime. Broken laws. Evidence.

  "Mhm, an' if ya don't have any, he'll make some. Doesn't matter if'n it's true, just that it could stick."

  Fake evidence, forced labor, coercion… maybe more. Yelz felt her tiny chest rise and fall with excitement, a patter of her paws framing Sade's cruel chuckle.

  "We still be here when ya don't got no more money! Come back anytime, top sider."

  That… did fill Yelz with fear. A spike of panic that reminded her of the price of failure. Concrete nearly met her nose as she fell from the back room, tripping as she reached up to slam the door back open to the dance floor.

  A pair of hands caught her, calloused and ugly, but firm. She clung to them, this stranger, the guard who kept guests from the girls in the back. He didn't say anything, didn't look at the trembling kobold in his hands, just stared at the crowd.

  Eyes scanning.

  Mouth set.

  "Thank you." Yelz shuddered, straightening her blouse as he nodded, radioing another guard to escort the poor lizard up the stairs to her closet. Where it was safe. Where all she had to worry about were numbers. Elbows jostled the reptile until she made it to the stairs, the guard the only reason she wasn't trampled. Up she went, pupils small and breath fast, head turning to look back do-

  Greg was watching…

  From his office…

  Watching with a knowing smile as she came from the back where his girls were. Swirling a glass of dark liquor, just watching her… Yelz scowled back, angry tears in her eyes until she slammed her office door with a yip.

  Hate him.

  Hate him.

  Hate him.

  Hate him.

  Hate him.

  Hate him.

  Yelz hated Greg. She hated Wild Gregs. She hated this… this broom closet. Her back turned, paw slapping the door's lock as she slid down the old wood to the floor. All those women and kobolds down below, used and tossed away, cleaned up and set out like a lunch platter again. She'd known of course, who couldn't? But to see it with her own eyes, talk to them, see how… empty they were. To see Sade and her control, Moonbeam's rage.

  "I can't end up down there."

  Yelz rose, wiping her eyes and muzzle with a heated glare at her own computer.

  Logs.

  Receipts.

  Records.

  Wild Gregs had to have discrepancies. Evidence of how Greg kept his people employed and paid. Extortion and black mail, coercion and forced labor, but more besides. There had to be. With a slap to her pink cheeks, Yelz hopped over to her chair and cracked her knuckles.

  If this was and adventure, and she was the roguish heroine, then she needed to activate stealth and stab Greg in the back.

  "I can't end up down there…"