NOMI
The "clothing" Diana left behind was a puzzle designed by a sadist.
I stood in the center of the room, shivering as the steam from the obsidian basin evaporated off my skin, staring at the pile of leather and silk. There were no zippers. No Velcro. Just an endless, dizzying array of tiny silver buttons, hidden hooks, and leather harnesses that seemed to defy the laws of geometry.
I tried for twenty minutes to get into the trousers. They were supple, smelling of expensive oil and something metallic, but the laces along the hips required a dexterity my shaking fingers didn't have.
Every time I thought I had a knot secure, the leather would shift, and I'd have to start over.
"Dammit," I hissed, my voice cracking.
I felt a hot, stinging prickle behind my eyes. It wasn't just the cl
