Ruby’s Pride

by Romy Lockhart

  “I pick them apart because they’re assholes and you both deserve better.” Even though I’m only really talking about Crystal here. Pearl’s never... Wait. “How many guys has Pearl gone out with?”

  They steal a glance at each other and I know without being told. This isn’t the first.

  “I can’t believe this.” I feel fucking betrayed.

  “You can be a real bitch, Ruby.” Crystal tells me, starting to sound pissed. “You can’t blame Pearl for not wanting to tell you.”

  I take it all in and all I can feel is anger burning through my veins. Her words do nothing but remind me starkly of the nasty encounter with my one night stand this morning. I get up, anger starting to reach boiling point inside me. “Yeah, well, this bitch is out. Enjoy playing third wheel to Pearl’s secret date, Crystal.”

  I walk away, wondering where that blonde bunny-girl disappeared to with my coat. And my drink. Might as well sink all the complimentary alcohol I can before I blow this joint and go home to punch something.

  I catch sight of the bunny-girl near the bar just as she’s turning towards me with a tray. She comes a few steps closer and I gaze over the tray. The drinks look strange. Definitely cocktails, but nothing like any cocktails I’ve ever seen before. The glimmering one looks choc-full of silver flakes and some kind of blue glittery crap. Just looking at it makes my throat close up. The gold one looks like liquid metal. More like a color I might want my eye make-up to be, but never something I’d put in my mouth. The green... it captures my attention even with the smoke rising from it. Not quite the color of emerald, but close enough. She holds out the tray and I pick it up.

  “Witch’s Brew,” she tells me, smiling. “It’s a strong one, but it’s so worth it.”

  I take a sip and something odd starts to happen. The smoke seems to spiral out from the glass to fog up my surroundings, but not before the room starts to whirl around me.

  “It only stops when the drink is gone,” Ally’s words come in a rushing whisper.

  I take her at her word and drink more, and the room feels like it’s actually tilting under me. Holy shit. This stuff shouldn’t be legal. It feels like more is a mistake, but honestly, I don’t know what else to do. The swirling and tilting isn’t stopping. I close my eyes. It doesn’t help. My balance feels completely off. So I gulp down the last of the drink quickly and open them again. The whirling is beginning to recede. But the lights and the music are gone. It’s kind of cold too. Holy hell. Did I stagger outside while my balance was all screwed up?

  My gaze lifts and I’m staring at the full moon when the world stops spinning. My stare is captured for an intense moment. I don’t remember the night sky ever looking so beautiful. Then I remember something bizarre just happened and I need to know where I am and it snaps my focus straight back.

  I look around, expecting to see the shady alley we walked through to get to the night club. It throws me off to find out that’s not where I am.

  I also don’t seem to be holding an empty cocktail glass. There’s a folded slip of card in my hand instead. Am I tripping? I mean, I have to be, right? This is too bizarre. That drink had to be laced with LSD or some other fucked up drug. There’s no other explanation.

  Well, maybe there is, but I don’t really want to think about it because it’s a little too crazy. I mean, a girl with the kind of obsession that makes her beg her dad for a dog because she wants to play pretend her name is Dorothy, the kind of obsession that has her create her own yellow brick road as her bedroom flooring when she grows up enough to get her own place. The kind of girl who dreams desperately of escaping reality to go on an adventure to a magical realm.

  When she winds up in said magical realm, it can’t be real. Can it?

  I stare down at the yellow bricks under my sparkling red heels and wonder. There’s no mistaking where I am, either way. There’s no place like Oz.

  Chapter 5

  I’m gazing out over the landscape, at the poppy fields in the distance and the bright path winding out before me. The fields look so strange in the night air; almost eerie with the flowers’ gentle swaying in the breeze. There’s a forest behind me, and it’s dark and foreboding enough to make me take a few steps forward to get further away from it. I seriously need to figure out what to do while I wait for this strange trip to be over.

  A sudden grumbling sound behind me makes me jump. I turn and promptly drop my purse and the slip of card to the ground. The lion the sound came from is freaking huge. His golden-red mane is thick and gorgeous and I almost want to reach out and stroke it, but I’m not quite insane enough to try.

  He gets up onto his hind legs and I freeze in place. Oh my god. He’s about to lunge! I’m about to be eaten alive. If this is real, I mean. Maybe even if it’s not. Replace dangerous wild animal with predatory man and there’s not that much of a difference. Then the lion starts to change in front of my eyes. Oh. Oh, wow. He’s becoming human.

  Okay, yeah. This is definitely a hallucination. What the hell was in that drink?

  Hell and damn. This lion makes a very attractive man. All muscle and deep, dark eyes I could drown in. Dark hair and tanned skin, surprisingly. Not to mention the enormous asset hanging between his muscular legs. I can’t quite seem to keep my eyes off of that once my gaze dips that low.

  “Where were you last night, big boy?” I bring my gaze back to his and realize he’s staring openly right back at me. Though he doesn’t seem to be salivating as much as I am. No, he seems more suspicious than anything else. Disappointing, really.

  His gaze sears through me before he moves closer, growling lightly as he pulls me in close and sniffs at my hair. Up this close he smells incredible. I kind of want to stroke him again, but I don’t trust my fingers not to stray to his impressive manhood and touching a stranger’s dick while I’m out of my head on some weird drug induced trip does not seem like the best idea.

  “Witch,” he growls, pushing me away with his lips curling back into a snarl.

  “Hey,” I snap, stumbling a little before straightening. All men are the goddamned same. I’m glad I didn’t come on to this one. “Screw you too, dickhead.”

  I crouch to pick up my purse and the piece of card, which thankfully hasn’t blown away due to my purse landing on top of it. When I glance back at the asshole, the look of disgust he hit me with when he declared me a witch has gone. Desire is alight in his gaze, and one little dip downwards with my stare shows me that something enormous just became gargantuan.

  “Holy fucking hell.” Temptation is calling and I’m not sure how much longer I can resist. That is, if he can keep quiet for long enough to stop pissing me off.

  “You look human,” he tells me, his upper lip curling into a snarl. “But you’re a witch. I can smell it on you.”

  “Well, I won’t waste time telling you what I can smell on you,” I snap back. “And I’m not a witch, asshole.”

  I seriously need to get away from this guy. I start walking in the opposite direction, and open the folded piece of card. My name is on it, which would be kinda weird if this was real, I guess.

  You’ve been sent to one of the seven realms to help restore order. The drink you were given has awakened your potential as a magical being. You are a witch in a land that has been stripped of them. You must banish the darkness from the emerald city and bring magic back to the land of Oz. You’ll be hailed a hero and can choose to stay or leave only after this has happened.

  Good luck, Ruby.

  It makes as much sense as a glass that turned into a note probably should, which is to say none, so I stick it into my purse and try to forget about it. I cross my arms as the wind begins to pick up. I don’t know what to do besides wait to wake up from this hallucinogenic nightmare, so I start to pick my way down the yellow brick road.

  “She’s human,” I hear a male voice stage-whisper behind me, and it’s not the asshole’s voice.

  “No. She’s a witch,” the asshole tells him. God, I can hear the scowl on
his damned face.

  “She’s the one,” the first voice insists. “We must not let her get away.”

  My blood starts to chill in my veins. Who knows where the hell I am, really. Maybe I’ve retreated to my happy place because some psychos in the real world have their hands on me. I shudder at the thought and start to pick up my pace. I need to find someplace to hole up for the night. It’s not safe out here. Not with them.

  “She smells of magic.” Asshole again, distain in his tone.

  “What does that matter?” A third voice pitches in, one that sounds less serious than the other two but at the same time is oddly familiar. “Maybe Dorothy was a witch too.”

  I hesitate before turning back to them, curiosity getting the better of me. “Dorothy?”

  The new men are just as naked as the first, and one of them is the asshole’s double. Hot naked twins? Damn. That drink knows all my darkest, deepest fantasies. I let my gaze stray to the third guy reluctantly. He has sandy-blonde hair and an earnest expression that makes me wonder if he’s a little younger than the other two.

  They’re all attractive in a way that only movie stars or serious athletes can be in real life. Maybe I’m thinking about this all wrong. This is just some kind of dream. What do I have to be afraid of? Maybe I could have my birthday ménage fantasy fulfilled after all, even if it’s not entirely real.

  Then I notice a fourth guy and a shiver courses through me. He’s at the back of the others, almost hidden in shadow and he’s studying me silently with one bright blue eye. The right side of his face is badly scarred. Like he lost a fight with one of the others. No, wait, not one of these guys. That doesn’t feel right. Someone bigger and scarier. Someone who didn’t walk away with a small loss like this one. Someone who didn’t walk away at all. I don’t know where these thoughts came from, but I feel in my bones they’re the truth.

  I look back at the others, clear my throat and keep my chin held high. “What do you know about Dorothy?”

  They gaze at each other before the eager one with the sandy-blond hair comes forward. “She was our grandmother.”

  Wow. There’s a part of the story I didn’t know. Who knew how weird my brain was? Making this shit up and giving it some kink. Dorothy slept with the lion? Holy crap. I hope he at least looked like one of these guys.

  “Do not speak to the witch,” the asshole with the still raging hard-on chides his blond brother.

  “I will speak to the human as much as I like.”

  Okay, blondie’s got balls. He’s definitely growing on me now.

  “She is a witch.” Asshole spits out the last word as if it’s leaving a nasty taste in his mouth.

  “What I am is seriously pissed off at the way you assholes are treating me,” I snap at them.

  “Why does she talk about assholes? I do not understand.” Blondie is on the simple side, apparently. Seems kind of cliché. How hairist of me to make the blond one a dummy.

  “Speak to me, directly, goddamn it,” I say, wondering why they’re being such assholes if this is all in my head. I don’t have a thing for that type. I got over that one shitty ex-boyfriend ago.

  The silent, scarred one remains so. These two seem to be the talkers; Asshole and Blondie. The third smiles at me, the one who looks exactly like the asshole but seems more pleasant.

  “What’s your name?”

  Finally, someone who speaks to me like I’m a person. “My name is Ruby. What’s yours?”

  “My name is Corwin. Please ignore Ransom. He is well practiced at being impossible.”

  Okay, so Ransom is the asshole. Corwin is the more playful smiler. What about the others?

  “Ax is keen to bring you home, Ruby. And I know Warner is equally concerned for your safety.”

  That would make Warner the scarred, silent one then. I keep my arms folded.

  “Names are a start, but I don’t know you guys from, well, Adam.” And here I am thinking about my damned ex again. I shake it off. More important things are at stake right now. “Why the hell should I go home with you?”

  I mean, besides the fact that I didn’t even need to mentally undress them to get a look at their goods and I’m already wondering how difficult a request it would be to ask for a sexy birthday present from these four hotter than hell men... I drag my mind out of the gutter with effort. Kinda tough when it seems like it just wants to roll around down there all night.

  “Darkness is coming,” Corwin tells me, his expression becoming more concerned. “It came for the witches before you and it will come for you too. It is not safe out here at night. Come with us. We will protect you.”

  I guess I just got my invitation to their home.

  Chapter 6

  The guys grumble amongst themselves as I follow them down the yellow brick road. The moment the path drifts into the woods and they expect me to walk over muddy ground in my new heels, I cross my arms and shake my head.

  “No way. I’m staying right here.”

  Ransom scowls before walking onwards at a brisk pace. Ax follows him, without looking back. Shit, are they all going to just fucking up and leave me here? After telling me it’s not safe. Damn, they really are assholes. I look at the ground and groan. I’m leaning down to take my shoes off when strong arms scoop me up from behind. I’m being lifted, bride-style. I yelp in surprise and then melt against my well-muscled savior. The scarred guy gazes down at me briefly, and I reach up to stroke a hand through the messy curls of his dark blond hair. Warner. That’s his name. He’s fucking gorgeous, even if his one half of his face is badly marked by scars. If any of them had to do this, I’m glad it was him.

  “Thank you, Warner.”

  He nods and starts to walk. I drink in the musky scent of him as I rest my head against his shoulder. My dress shifted when he picked me up so his arm is touching my naked ass as we move, keeping it warm. I’m inevitably going to flash them all when he puts me down. A g-string probably wasn’t the most practical thing to put on under the scandalously short dress, but flashing granny-panties would have been way worse so I’m comfortable with my underwear choice for the night.

  “You smell so nice,” I murmur against his chest.

  “You do too,” Corwin tells me, smiling slyly as he comes up beside us.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” I tell him, gazing him over. If only he didn’t have to look so much like the asshole I might feel a little more inclined to flirt with him. “I assume you and Ransom are brothers then?”

  He nods. “We all are. Warner is the eldest by a couple years, then Ax, then Ransom, and I’m a few minutes younger than he is.”

  Interesting. They’re all brothers? Probably rules out a five-way, or whatever it’s called between four men and one woman. Is that enough to be called an orgy? Or do you need multiple women for one of those? Yeah. I bet you do. Orgies were probably invented by men. Definitely not interested in an orgy.

  “So where are we going?” Because it sure as hell seems like these woods are darker and more terrifying than where we were before. “What’s this darkness you guys were talking about?”

  “We have a house a little deeper into the woods. Had to find our own place outside of the pride after our parents died. Our mother was accepted in the pride but our father was not. He was like us,” Corwin continues.

  “Like you?”

  “Half human, half lion.”

  “The others aren’t like you?” Now there’s a terrifying thought.

  He shakes his head. “They are pure-bloods. They cannot change forms like we do. They do not accept us.”

  “So your father was Dorothy’s child?”

  He nods. “She stayed here longer the second time she came, when she was an adult, and that is when she fell in love with my grandfather. Several years later, when she went home again it broke my grandfather’s heart. He died soon after, attempting to rejoin the pride to raise his teenage son. They might have killed our father if he hadn’t quickly mated to a full-blooded female. They were old
enough to have children. And they wanted to have many so we would never be alone, even if the pride chose not to accept us.”

  Oh God. I hate sad stories. Why the hell am I imagining this when I could be dreaming of a five-way or whatever with these gorgeous men? My brain must be having an off day. I blame the weird ass drink that sent me down this messed-up yellow bricked road.

  “We’ve been waiting a long time for another human to arrive.”

  Now that chill is back, running along the base of my spine. They want me for something, and I’m just letting them take me. I should be fighting this, using my heels as weapons to get away. Doing whatever it takes. Shit, what’s wrong with me?

  “What do you want me for?” I hear my voice shake. I’m so close to wriggling out of the big guy’s arms and running off, but I tell myself to wait. Maybe they’ll have actual weapons in their house. Like a fire-poker or an Uzi. You know, whatever.

  “Dorothy fell in love with our grandfather and that’s why she stayed and raised a child with him. We have no-one but each other while we’re exiled. Our only hope is in the arrival of outsiders.”

  Holy fucking shit. “You want me to breed with you?”

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against the idea of getting carnal with these guys, but baby-making? Ugh. I’ve never been interested in rug-rats and I’m not going to change my mind just because a group of seriously hot men want to bang one into me. Career comes first, and I’m back to the drawing board on that one.

  “We hope that you’ll become mated to at least one of us, yes.”

  At least one? Shit. I don’t know whether to be excited or terrified. I don’t mention my lack of desire for a child while I’m being carried back to their man-cave. I need to think and I need to find a way out of this situation before it gets out of hand.

  “Your being a witch changes nothing,” Corwin continues. “You are human. I saw you arrive, just as Ransom did. We know you did not come from Oz.”

  “I’m not a witch.” I don’t know where they’re getting that from. It’s not like I have green skin or warts or a cackle.