by Mima
By the time she swallowed, he had melted behind the wall of people a short distance away. Two women appeared next to her, both dressed in a bizarre combination of historic and current trends, sexual and demure. They were both older, with graying hair worn in elaborate crowns of curls.
The cloaked woman turned her face toward Charlotte. “Your power is wild and strong, child, to have mastered a vampire as old and stubborn as Ryder.”
Charlotte’s lip trembled and her throat swelled tight. Nothing in her life had ever been wild or strong.
“How is it you do not know our ways?”
She shook her head. Oh, Gram. Did you know what we were?
“Well, we cannot have a fantastical bouncing around without control of her power during such a volatile gathering. What is your name?”
It took too long for her to grind out, “Charlotte.”
The Elder smiled. Charlotte was reminded of the emperor from Star Wars, the way the hood hid all but the cruel, thin mouth. A gnarled hand pushed the hood back, and eyes of electric blue fired into her. She tried to step back, but the two women closed tight to her sides.
“Clearly, you are new to our world. You will need a mentor. While I usually do not trouble myself with the details of training new registrants to our family, I find your power . . . delicious. How lovely to meet you, Charlotte. Tell me, do you want to learn to control your abilities?”
One of the women beside her stood just a tiny bit tighter. The prickling following her all night shivered over her body. Charlotte was icy, stunned, sick, confused. A man had died. She’d wanted to be his lover. He’d revealed a new world to her, and she’d turned into some sort of spoiled dominatrix, heavy on the evil and the stupid. Did she want to learn about her abilities? No. She wanted the blue pill, very desperately. But a man was dead. She’d done something horrible. Somehow, Charlotte would try to fix this.
“Yes.” She had to. “Is Ryder dead?” Weren’t there lots of ways for a vampire to regenerate?
Pain laced across her hands. Jerking them up, she stared in shock at a web of red welts stretching from her knuckles to her wrists.
“Do not ever speak to me beyond answering my direct questions. You need to show deference. Now that you have accepted me as your mentor, I will train you. Sit here until I return.” The woman waved her hand negligently.
Charlotte’s body seized, then stumbled past the woman on her right to crumple against the silver post that held the velvet rope. She sat on the slightly tacky linoleum at the end of the bench. Jaw loose, she stared up at the two women, stunned. Was this helplessness what Ryder had felt?
The Elder eased from the bench and snapped “Attend me” to the woman with the corset and long skirt. The pair disappeared into the crowd. The woman with the sheer top and slacks looked down at her.
Charlotte was afraid to ask her a question. She looked down at her hands. The welts were raised, throbbing with a sharp pain.
“You stupid girl. The Elder owns you now.”
Charlotte looked up at her, eyes welling.
She sighed, irritated. “You may speak to me. I have no mentor’s bond over you.”
“What’s going on?”
“You triggered a great wave of power. It’s poor comfort that getting claimed by the Elder will protect you from that pissed-off werewolf.”
“But, with Ryder . . .”
“You overrode a vampire’s will, overwhelming his moon magic with yours.”
“Ivor killed him!”
“If you did not want him, then he had no choice. We cannot have zombie vampires wandering around.”
Charlotte squeezed her eyes closed. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Magic makes mincemeat out of the weak. If you keep your wits around you and focus, you will probably survive the Elder’s training. Be sure to prove your loyalty in as ruthless a way as possible. She’ll want to use your power to back hers, so I expect you’ll be with us for at least fifty years.”
Fifty years! Tears spilled over as exhaustion weighed on her. She struggled to breathe. “Are we immortal, too?”
“Of course not. We age normally. Unless you’re drinking unicorn blood, as she is.” The woman twitched her slacks before she sat on the other side of the booth.
“In fifty years, I’ll be seventy-nine.”
The woman shrugged. “I’m sixty, and I’ve been in the Elder’s service since I was twelve. I have seen her take only two other protégées. Neither survived a decade. We’ll see what you’re made of.”
Charlotte sat in the thundering nightclub, eyes weary from the slashing indigo lights. Her hands ached, her head throbbed, and her heart broke. She had killed a man. “This is a nightmare. I’ll wake up.”
“You’ll pull down power at her command until she’s used so much of you she’s sure you’ll be no threat to her. You’re in for a very long nightmare, Charlotte. Welcome to the Fairy Kingdom.”
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PINK ENDING.
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Biting her lip, Charlotte grabbed the falcon woman’s wrist. “Let go of me!”
The woman lifted her wings and gaped at her. “Ryder told me you must register.”
“Get your hands off.” Pulling her body back with a hard yank, she stumbled free of the woman and the cluster of people.
Exhilarated, she turned to face the bobbing dance floor. Now here was living! She didn’t listen to this kind of music, and she certainly didn’t dance like this. There were no rehearsals for life, right? With a whoop, she stumbled forward, pushing until she was on the interior, surrounded.
Watching the people around her, she began to copy them. In moments she was a sweaty mess. She kept dancing anyway, until she was so out of breath she had to sit down. Pushing back through the crowd to the bar, she ordered Gram’s favorite, the classic Sex on the Beach.
A woman landed against the bar beside her. She was breathless and red-faced, but her lips had magenta lipstick, and her layered sheer tops revealed a maroon lace bra. Her hair was incredibly short, spiked and sassy in the back.
She ordered a beer. While she waited for the bartender, she met Charlotte’s look and smiled. “Isn’t this great? I’ve already been laid twice since we set sail. I swear, why they only offer this once a year is beyond me. It’s some medieval torture policy from the dark ages.”
Charlotte laughed. “I’d hoped to follow a plan like yours, but the night got strange.” She offered her hand, feeling bold. “I’m Charlotte and I’m new.”
She frowned out at the crowd. Ryder was out there, and how was she supposed to win him from the likes of the sylphs? She bit her lip. She needed to learn about her powers.
The woman shook her hand firmly. “I’m Perky.”
Charlotte shook her head and leaned in closer. “What?”
Laughing, the woman nodded. “Perky. It’s much better than Matilda.”
“Oh-kay.” She couldn’t stop smiling.
The bartender plunked down a beer in a pilsner glass and Charlotte’s orange drink in a slinky daiquiri glass.
“An umbrella!” Happily, Charlotte took the green circle and twirled it.
“What did you get?”
“Sex on the Beach, of course. It seemed appropriate.”
“Oy . . . of course.” Perky rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly. “So this is your first cruise?”
Charlotte nodded. “I’m avoiding the Elder. There’s this guy I was thinking of finding. Ryder.” Feeling crazy, she leaned into Perky’s ear and whispered, “He’s a vampire.”
Perky nodded her head. “First of all, you’re right to avoid the Elder at all costs. Second of all, everybody knows Ryder. He’s, like, the coolest vampire there is. He comes to these cruises every year.” The gir
l took a big swig from her tall glass, wiping the foam off her lip. “And third of all, you have to come to the bathroom with me.”
She tucked her arm into Charlotte’s and pulled her along. Charlotte was getting better at moving through the crowd. Before long they were in an only-marginally-less crowded women’s room. Tiled in tiny iridescent circles, it was like being on the inside of a disco ball.
Perky pulled her through the women into an open stall. Thankfully it looked clean. She closed and locked the door, boxing them in.
Charlotte looked at her doubtfully, holding her drink that had spilled across her fingers. “What’s up?”
“I like you, so I’m going to help you out.” The woman shrugged her string purse off her shoulder and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. “If you want to get laid, you have to lose that look.”
She glanced down at herself. “This look?”
“Yes.” Perky pulled the set of three sheer tops off. “Do you want the bra or the tops?”
“Ummm.” Perky was half Charlotte’s size.
“I think the tops will be a little too crazy for you. Bra it is.”
She took off her bra, and Charlotte averted her face, hastily taking a drink.
Perky pulled the sheer tops back on and hung the bra on the hook. “So how do you know Ryder?”
“I met him in the bar earlier.”
“If you get a chance with him, take it. I’ve been trying to catch his eye for a few years now. He’s at least two hundred years old. Do you know what kind of skill that creature probably has in bed?” She tried to lift Charlotte’s cream tee.
“Ummm.”
“Sweetie, don’t be shy. We’ve got to get those assets on display.”
Looking doubtfully at the tiny red lace scrap, Charlotte said, “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Oh, come on. Let’s give you a one-minute makeover into a hottie!”
Charlotte looked at the toilet doubtfully. Perky elbowed her. The meaning of her nickname was becoming clear. “Okay.”
Setting her glass next to Perky’s on the toilet paper dispenser, she took off her tee.
Perky laughed. “No granny bras on the singles’ cruise, Charlotte! I knew it wouldn’t be pretty, but damn, that’s like industrial, woman.”
Charlotte took off her bra, holding her arm over her breasts.
“Turn around.” Perky gave her the red scrap.
Charlotte shrugged into the arms. Perky adjusted the straps longer from behind, then gave a grunt as she drew the ends together with a vicious yank. Charlotte wheezed, lungs squished.
“There! You’ve got great skin.” She began to undo her braid. “I’ve got a cute pin for your hair.”
Perky pulled on her arm so she turned. The cups were . . . inadequate. Both women looked at Charlotte’s breasts bulging inside the bra and burst out laughing. Tugging on her shoulders, Perky drew Charlotte forward.
A gasp ripped from her when the woman stuck her hand inside the cup and manhandled her breast into place. Before she could take a breath, she’d done the other one. Now when Charlotte stood, her breasts didn’t look misshapen. They looked immense. The lace cup barely covered her nipples. She couldn’t go out in this!
Perky fiddled with her hair, then drew a glittery bobby pin from her purse. She fiddled some more and jammed the pin in above her temple. She grabbed at Charlotte’s waist and retied her skirt not to her waist but to the rise of her hips, after fluffing half of it up one thigh and tucking it into the waistband. Taking her lipstick out she ordered, “Pucker up.”
Charlotte puckered.
In moments, Perky had her purse on, her beer up, and was out the door. “Come dance!”
But Charlotte stood frozen at her revealed image in the mirror. Her brilliant orange hair was tousled and wavy, resting along her shoulders to the slope of her breasts. Her eyes shone silver and wide above the swirl of color on her lips, which made them look glossy and plump. The dark red lace looked amazing against her skin, and even though the bra cut into her shoulders and torso a bit, her breasts were so out there that it didn’t look bad. Her breasts were perfect, round and smooth. Her waist cut in and flared out, her skirt lowered to sit on her hips, one bare thigh framed with tiered brown flounces.
Charlotte looked beautiful. She looked like the bombshell she wanted to be. She looked wild and sexy and ready for action. Powers schmowers. She was a woman with an incredible body, and that was all the power she needed. Holding her drink up to toast herself, she said, “I want to get laid.”
A woman washing her hands laughed and saluted her. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
Flushed with sisterhood, Charlotte eased free of the restroom, but Perky was nowhere to be found. She stood on tiptoe but didn’t see Ryder and his golden pack of sylphs. Best of all, she couldn’t see the wings of the falcon woman or the booth with the spooky cloaked Elder, either.
A man walked up to her. “Dance?” He was tall and lanky, and she thought the green of his skin wasn’t from the nightclub lights.
Lifting her chin, she nodded. She’d already danced with a werewolf. Green skin was minor. They were so close together, their legs brushed. Trying to find the way back to her free happiness, she tried to settle into Bombshell Charlotte, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t try to hold her, but he did spend a lot of time staring at her chest. There was no way she could blame him. She couldn’t jump as boisterously as before in this bra, but she had a drink now anyway. She tried to get rid of it fast.
When she finished, he asked, “Do you want another?”
She nodded to his shouted question, and when he offered his hand, she took it. They fought back to the bar. Once there, several people he knew gathered him into conversation, close because of the noise. She rested against the counter, feeling more awkward. She’d been happier when she’d been plain. Feeling beautiful was, like, responsibility or something.
Another man came up, holding a red margarita. “Hello. You’re absolutely beautiful.” He set his drink next to her empty glass. Leaning in close, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
She stared. Well, that was direct. Her lips parted. A kiss for a compliment. No harm, right? He looked normal and nice, with dark hair. She’d barely given a tiny nod before his mouth covered hers. He was a pretty good kisser. Not as good as Ivor, but close. His lips were firm and strong, and his tongue danced along her lower lip. When he pulled away to look deep into her eyes, she didn’t know what to say.
He smiled. “Thanks!” Taking up his drink, he wandered away.
Charlotte stared after him, stupefied. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she caught sight of herself in the mirrored wall. Lipstick no longer glossy, she smoothed a streak off her chin.
The lanky boy bought her another Sex on the Beach, but he was so caught up in talking with his friends she grew bored. Once that drink was done, her belly was on fire. She eased onto the dance floor with more slink this time. Moving felt easier. It felt good. Bombshell Charlotte wouldn’t push and jostle. No. She swayed and used more hip than knee.
A man dancing near her eased over. Their shoulders shimmying in time to the drums, he slowly worked into her space. She let him. His hands were incredibly hot as they swept down her arms. By the time she noticed his ears were pointed, their hips roved from side to side together. He circled around behind her, tucking his groin against her ass.
Heart thrumming with excitement, she looked up to snag the gaze of a man with a heavy brow. He stared at her hungrily, and she held his eyes. He stepped past the couple separating them and danced in front of her, while the man behind her settled his hot grip onto the tops of her bare hips.
The new man eased one of his legs between hers, catching her hands and winding them up into the air. Bombshell Charlotte settled completely into her blood. The thrum of noise around her was power, the heat and intensity of the crowd like a
drug. Her fear of the ballroom was from another life. This was where she belonged. She rested against the man at her back and loved the skin surrounding her. When the beat changed, she turned, pulling her hands free to rest them on the elf’s shoulders. He wore a leather vest and jeans, and filled both nicely.
Leaning down to her ear, he said, “I’m Jack.”
Another voice growled into her other ear, “Mario.”
Charlotte ground her ass against Mario’s pumping hips and said, “Charlie.” She’d never called herself Charlie in her life. Ivor had led her into a world of wonder, where she just barely understood she was truly different and hadn’t been ready to accept it. But Ryder had led her into a world of sex, a world where she’d been reborn, a world she’d always craved. It was time to be someone new.
“I’m a foxfire.” Laughing, she wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him down from his height. She kissed him, her mouth opening his, her tongue darting forward.
Mario’s palms slid from her waist to her ribs and on to her breasts. One twitch and he’d lowered both cups, fingering her nipples despite how she pressed tight to Jack.
This was insane. She didn’t know either of them. She wanted both of them. Life, sex, dancing, in this club, with the beautiful fantasticals, free and wild. Her arms twining, she rubbed herself between them. Thighs stroking thighs, they danced. Time left her. She laughed and kissed, touched and stroked.
By the time Mario’s fingers entered her, she knew she was going too far. Farther than she’d dreamed when she wanted to take Ryder back from the sylphs. Jack had her leg hiked up, her knee against his ribs.
“Are you okay?” They’d kissed so much he smelled familiar. They’d kissed so much she knew what he really meant. Are you okay with us fucking you now? She leaned back against Mario and nodded, eyes heavy, heart thumping. This was raw. This was sex. With the dancers around them, she felt safe. She was ready.