Chapter 51: Count
Chapter 51: Count
"You know," he said, accepting the mended shirt, "you seem tense. Shoulder trouble?"
She rolled her neck unconsciously. "Occupational hazard. Hunching over a workbench twelve hours a day takes its toll."
"I could help with that."
Her expression cooled immediately. "I’m not that kind of girl."
"I’m not that kind of guy." Nacho held up his hands in mock surrender. "I’m a massage therapist. Licensed and everything." The lie rolled off his tongue without hesitation. "Just opened a practice in the city. Looking to build a client base."
"A massage therapist." She didn’t sound convinced.
"First session’s free. Consider it a professional courtesy for the excellent needlework."
She stared at him for a long moment, clearly weighing the offer against her instincts. He could see the exhaustion behind her eyes, the accumulated strain of years of difficult work and difficult choices. She wanted to say yes. She just needed an excuse.
He gave her one.
"Look, if I try anything inappropriate, you can stab me with one of those needles. Deal?"
A surprised laugh escaped her. "You’re strange."
"I prefer unique."
"Strange," she repeated, but there was warmth in it now. "Fine. One session. But I’m keeping the needle close."
Perfect.
The back room of the shop doubled as Delilah’s living quarters. A narrow bed, a small stove, a table covered in sketches and fabric samples. She cleared a space on the bed and sat down, still watching him with wary curiosity.
Nacho kept his movements slow and deliberate, explaining each step before he took it. He started with her shoulders, using his actual hands rather than the tentacle. The woman’s muscles were knotted so tight that he could feel individual cords of tension beneath her skin.
"You weren’t lying about the occupational hazard," he said, working his thumbs along her trapezius.
She let out a shaky breath. "Most days I can barely turn my head."
He worked in silence for a few minutes, letting her grow accustomed to his touch. Her breathing slowed. Her shoulders dropped. The wariness in her posture gradually faded into something closer to trust.
Now.
His tentacle extended beneath the bed, invisible and silent, and pressed against the sole of her foot through the gap between her shoe and the mattress.
[First Tentacle effect activated. Charm multiplied by 10x. Current effective Charm: 880.]
Delilah gasped. Her entire body shuddered once, then went limp against his hands.
"What..."
"Reflexology," Nacho said smoothly. "Enhances the massage. Just relax."
She didn’t resist. She couldn’t. The Charm effect was flooding through her system, overwhelming her natural defenses and replacing them with a warm, pliable compliance. Her thoughts, skimmed through Mind Fortress, were a jumbled mess of confusion and pleasure.
This feels so good why does it feel so good I shouldn’t be doing this but I don’t want it to stop what is he doing what is that warmth oh gods oh gods...
The tentacle crept up her calf, applying pressure and warmth in slow waves. Nacho continued working her shoulders with his hands, maintaining the dual sensation that had proven so effective on his previous clients. Within minutes, she was putty in his grasp.
[Target’s receptivity: 62%.]
"Delilah," he said softly. "I need to ask you something."
"Mmm?" Her voice was dreamy, unfocused.
"The man who visits you. The one with the key around his neck. When is he coming tonight?"
For a moment, lucidity flickered in her eyes. Fear tried to surface through the Charm-induced haze. "How do you know about..."
The tentacle pulsed against her thigh, and the fear dissolved.
[Target’s receptivity: 78%.]
"It’s okay," Nacho said. "You can tell me. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to know when he’ll be here."
"After dark." The words came out slow and thick, like honey dripping from a spoon. "He always comes after dark. Stays until just before dawn."
"Does he take the key off when you’re together?"
"Sometimes." Her eyelids fluttered. "When we’re in bed. He puts it on the nightstand. Says the chain irritates his skin."
Bingo.
Nacho spent the next hour ensuring Delilah’s complete cooperation. By the time he was finished, she’d told him everything he needed to know about Venn’s habits, his routines, his favorite positions in bed. She’d also experienced what she would later describe to herself as the single most intense physical experience of her life, though she wouldn’t be able to remember exactly what had caused it.
The Charm effect would fade by morning. She’d wake up confused but unharmed, with only vague memories of a pleasant conversation and an excellent massage.
The key, however, would be long gone.
[Lewd Act Performed: Tentacle Massage]
[Talent Stolen: Thread Sight (Rare)]
Thread Sight? That could be useful.
He examined the new Talent as he waited for night to fall. It allowed him to perceive and manipulate threads of all kinds, fabric, rope, string, even the metaphorical threads of conversation. Combined with his existing Thread Manipulation, it gave him an unexpected edge for what was about to come.
The universe has a sense of humor. I come to steal from a seamstress and end up with sewing powers.
Darkness settled over the city like a heavy blanket. Nacho positioned himself in the shadows across the street from Delilah’s shop, his Apex Senses tracking every movement in the vicinity. He counted the minutes until a figure in a dark cloak appeared at the corner, walking with the hunched posture of someone who didn’t want to be recognized.
Head Curator Aldous Venn.
The man was shorter than Nacho had expected, with a nervous energy that manifested in the constant twitching of his fingers. Even from a distance, Nacho could see the glint of gold around his neck.
The key.
Venn glanced around before ducking into the shop. The door closed behind him, and a moment later, the lamp in the back room flickered to life.
Nacho waited. Patience was a skill he’d honed during his years as a debt collector, and it served him well now. He watched the shadows on the window, tracking the movements inside. First standing, then sitting, then horizontal.
There we go.