Authors: Dicey Grenor
Yeah, I’d given
her false hope, but at least she was smiling.
We chatted awhile
and then it was over.
Done.
Until
another few years from now.
It was for the
best.
As soon as I got
to work,
Cin
rushed up to me, grabbed my arm, and
dragged me to the nearest room. Her sweet cinnamon scent was overtaken by the
smell of
budussy
that hit my nose and nearly knocked
me down the second we entered. She hadn’t even noticed she’d closed us in the
AsSmother
/Toe-
rrific
room with
the face-sitting/foot fetish crowd. I came here once every blue moon to collect
blood, but
Valentina
frequented this room and boasted
of the subs’ expertise. She’d trained a few
herself
.
If
Cin
was looking for privacy, we wouldn’t get it here. Then
again, no one paid us any mind. They were too busy sucking and fingering so we
were invisible.
Trey
Songz’s
“Love Faces”
was playing all erotic through
the speakers. And how appropriate was that.
“I take it
Rafe
has talked to you,” I said, yanking my arm back.
“What the hell did
you do to him? He called me crying, begging me to call the mafia off him.
The mafia!”
I laughed. He was
really melodramatic, wasn’t he? “Is that all he said?”
Someone was coming
in the far corner and apparently it was intense.
Made me want
some of that.
The effect of my session with Max was wearing off.
Focusing on
Cin
was getting harder.
“He also said I
could have whatever I wanted: Lucia, money, the house. I know you must have
gotten to him, but how?”
“I can’t tell you
without incriminating myself and a friend.” I glanced in the corner as a thick
blonde with ripped pantyhose got up from a bench where she’d been sitting on a
man’s latex face. Only his glistening mouth was visible. She looked completely
satisfied and a little wobbly on her feet but was nice enough to unzip his mask
so he could breathe through his nose. I tore my eyes away to concentrate on our
conversation.
Cin
crossed her arms. “The friend you got all dolled-up for
last night?”
Too close to home.
I’d said too much. “Just be glad he’s off your back. Name your price. I’m sure
he’ll pay it.” My eyes wandered again.
“I suppose I
should thank you.”
Well, duh
.
The man who’d
worked the blonde over thoroughly got up zipping his pants. He’d been manually
working himself out too.
I was over
Cin’s
drama. I’d done my part. There were other things on
my mind now. Looking at her meaningfully, I had to ask, “So we good?
You and me?”
She smiled.
“Oh, yeah.
You’re a dangerous enemy.”
I nodded. “Don’t
you forget
it.
”
We shared a stare
then she gulped, blinked and walked out.
I didn’t move
because I had half a mind to get friendly with Mr. Tongue who was spraying down
the bench with sanitizer, wiping it clean. I didn’t have to wait until after my
set to collect blood and I could use a good workout with a submissive. It may
even keep another catastrophe like what happened last night with Aaron from
happening tonight. And wouldn’t it be grand if Aaron could end the night with
his memories and nose
in tact
.
After the job I’d
just seen Mr. Tongue pull, he’d be good for blood and orgasm.
Looking around, I
noticed two other couples enjoying themselves and a set of five who looked like
they were playing naked
Twister
. I’d have to get him further in the
corner or take him to the restroom to go unnoticed.
By the time my
eyes made it back to Mr. Tongue, I nearly swallowed mine. He was looking
straight at me and I could see his features clearly enough to recognize him.
The room was sparsely lit with yellow neon light, but it didn’t matter. I’d
recognize those sapphire blue eyes, pale skin with pink undertones and choppy
dark brown hair anywhere because it belonged to Ivan, my first love…the one who’d
cheated and broken my heart.
There were no hard
feelings, but I’d better get the hell away before I broke that dick…or tongue
of his.
Chapter 20
He was walking
towards me. Fast.
I was so out of
here.
“Willow! Wait!” I
heard him jogging to reach me.
Okay, I could do
this. “What?”
His smile was
breathtaking. “Is that anyway to greet someone you once loved?”
“Keyword:
once
.”
He went on to explain
how he was happy to see me, how he missed me, how sorry he was for how things
ended
yada
yada
. I was over
it.
Really.
But that didn’t stop me from being
immature. So just for the hell of it, I slowly raised my hands to the sides of
his face and brought him forward like I was going to put a wet one on him. I
captivated his brain instead, planting a seed about him loving me forever but
never having me again. How he’d yearn and ache and remember the one good thing
he had and lost. When I let his unconscious go, I told him to go fuck himself
and walked off, swinging my hips as I went. I could feel his eyes on me. Good.
Get
a gander at what you’ll never touch again.
It was petty, I
know. But what good are supernatural powers if you can’t use them for self-gain
every now and again?
As I hurriedly
left the room to disappear before he tried to talk again, I ran smack dab into
Queen Ming. This was partly her crowd, after all.
“Wow. You’re in a
hurry. Seen a ghost?” she said.
I shrugged but
didn’t slow down. She kept up with me. “You’re in a hurry too it would seem.”
“Headed
back to the dressing room.
I can’t take another minute watching that
girl—what’s her name?
Fiery Red Beast?
She’s playing
Fucky
Ducky tonight and it’s creeping me out.”
I laughed.
Hysterically.
It was always
funny when people saw our shows for the first time. Apparently, even other
performers could be amazed…and sickened.
Fire, AKA Fiery
Red Beast specialized in bestiality and on the real—that shit was nasty weird.
I didn’t blame Ming for being squeamish. Fire did it as tastefully as possible,
but like necrophilia, there was no soft and easy way to make it appear normal.
I always thought anything between consenting adults was okay—and that was the
problem with mine and Fire’s specialties. The dead couldn’t consent and animals
shouldn’t.
I’d seen Fire
perform
Fucky
Ducky before with feathers everywhere,
but it was nothing compared to some of her other costumes: Smoking Tigress,
Titty
Kitty, Moo
Moo
Baby, Bitch
in Heat, and Nasty Piggy. It especially crept me out when she dressed as Medusa
with her red hair swarming around her face like snakes and scales painted all
over her naked body. She called herself Horny Serpent then. Patrons loved it,
especially when she stuffed herself with a rubber snake.
Freaks.
As long as she didn’t bring in a real snake, we were cool. It was all fucked
up, but I preferred her shows when she brought stuffed animals and simulated
sex with them rather than dressing up as the actual animals.
She was smart too,
had a masters in
anthrozoology
, which made her
somewhat of an expert in animal/human interactions…and a formidable foe. She
also had intimate experience with an animal considering Punch was a beast of
sorts. Hell, sex with were-animals probably redefined bestiality in the same
way sex with vampires did necrophilia. But never mind her sexual experience
with the fetish. Recent developments indicated she may have even more intimate
knowledge of beasts, like firsthand look-in-the-mirror-at-yourself type
knowledge.
Anytime I thought
of Fire now, I thought of possible beasts who breathed fire just to prepare
myself for a showdown. Whatever I came up with made me want to shit my pants.
She was nothing
good.
Shuddering at the
thought, I switched my brain to what was to come after work. And there it was
again: a smile, warmth in my chest, and overall sucker-like giddiness. There
was undeniable anticipation circulating throughout my body anytime I thought
about seeing Aaron later. I liked
Remi
, but I was hot
for Aaron. I wanted him as my friend, my lover, my companion.
Aaron was my muse.
And as soon as my
spirits uplifted they were stomped down again.
Severely.
Truth was
,
I was bringing nothing but heaps of shit to Aaron’s life.
In addition to harming him physically, all my mental manipulation was harming
his brain. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. Max was pissed at me,
which meant Aaron was in danger of further collateral damage. As a matter of
principle, jealousy, and ego-bruising, Max would make Aaron pay for my rebellion.
Me
wanting Aaron was nothing but trouble for both of
us.
Rubbing the hollow
part of my chest where my heart used to be, I thought of how many ways Max
could punish me. He had all the tools he needed.
Maistre
vampires were powerful by anyone’s definition but particularly to their clan of
vamps. As sire, they held all power over us. He could have exercised his power
and summoned me already if he really wanted to be petty and I would have been
compelled by supernatural forces to do his bidding. No doubt, he was just
trying to make me come around so that I would go back compliantly on my own. He’d
always admired my strong-will. Plus, rogue vamps were controllable but
irritating.
Then again, with
the current war against us, he didn’t need my shit. It would be better for him
to make an example of me. He certainly didn’t want other vamps getting ideas,
requesting to leave the clan house. He would either have to let them go or risk
looking like he was playing favorites with me. No, they wouldn’t win a mutiny against
him, but he wouldn’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of angry brides and clan
brothers.
Funny—none of that
bothered me as much as knowing the harm he would inflict on Aaron.
Maybe it was time
to come up with a plan to protect him. Running wasn’t an option. Max could and
would find me anywhere. I was a fighter, and though no match for Max, I had to
put up a fight. But I couldn’t kill him. His death meant mine and hundreds of
others. And if he didn’t die, he’d be back with a vengeance nightmares were
made of. I just couldn’t win which meant I couldn’t protect Aaron.
By the time I was
done performing, collecting blood from Mr. Cash, and dressing, I felt
depressed. There was no way I could fight and win against Max. I was as good as
meeting my final death really soon. The best I could do was save Aaron by
staying away from him.
But that wasn’t
all.
Mr. Cash had
returned from his trip to D.C. where he’d attended the Humans
Against
Supernatural Beings Summit. Turns out, he’d been
working hard to help pass legislation that would make sex with vampires
punishable by imprisonment. It wasn’t enough that vampires and humans couldn’t
marry, but once these laws were passed, they couldn’t get caught having sexual
contact either. The government was working hard to crack down on humans who
harbored and aided vampires in any way and they considered sex fraternizing
that would lead to us evading extermination.
It was all bull.
Mr. Cash had told
me and anyone who would listen to him about his political endeavors. He never
had a problem tooting his own horn. It was the same way every time he came to
Hades and sat at the bar and had a few drinks. He’d do all that talking then
start propositioning the employees for sex. Guess we were supposed to be turned
on by his political power.
Not.
Just meant I
needed to have sex with Aaron soon while there were no legal consequences for
him. So staying away from him would have to come after that.
When I got in the
car next to Aaron, I kissed his cheek and buckled up for appearance-sake then
waited. But he didn’t start the car and drive off.
He spoke instead. “We
need to talk. Strange things have been happening to me and I think you know
why.”
Okay. This talk
was inevitable. “Like what?”
“When I woke up
this morning, I couldn’t remember details about last night. I remembered
hanging out with you but only that we did. I can’t visualize anything. Not
where we went or what you wore…and…”
“And?”
“I had blood on my
clothes.
Lots of it.”
“Oh.” I rubbed my
temples.
Big booboo.
I’d been so distracted by Max and
struggling with my emotions regarding Aaron, I’d forgotten to cover my tracks.
Hadn’t even changed motel rooms as I normally would have.
“And I had energy
today like you wouldn’t believe. Ran ten miles, ate about five thousand
calories. I could hear, see, smell, feel things from distances that just aren’t
humanly possible.”
You don’t say.
“What’s happening to me, Willow?” He
looked at me with those gorgeous puppy eyes and I melted. “And I’ve missed
blocks of time. Taylor and Reese had new journal entries.” He smoothed hair
down over his head. “I haven’t heard from them in years.”
Alternate
personalities?
I’d caused him to shift?
I owed him an
explanation. What could I say that would be adequate and evasive?