Several places offered complete outfits depending on desired social classes. Others offered cards to jack into ports that would allow the user to speak with perfect historical diction. There were places offering historic hair design, handmade underclothes, and anything you could possibly need to complete your time-travel vacation. Cage wasn’t sure if it was ingenious or insane.
“Look, darling. We can buy an entire wardrobe for the vacation.”
“You can have whatever you like, Phoe, but consider renting some of it. After all, are you really going to wear a real whalebone corset ever again in your life?”
“Only if you ask really nicely,” she drawled with a wink, disappearing into a lingerie shop.
He felt awkward as they walked into the shop. Everything was pink and white lace, practically begging for his dirty “man hands” to soil them. He stood in the corner, watching as Phoe scrambled from one end of the place to the other. Within minutes her arms were piled with enough underwear to cover the bottoms of at least ten people. He stood so still that one lady thought he was a mannequin.
“Can you believe how beautiful these things are?” Phoe sighed, holding up a hand-sewn white nightgown.
“I’m rather partial to that little red thing you’ve got at home.” He was referring to the sheer red negligee and matching thong that Phoe had bought at the little fetish shop in St. Francisville. Whenever she wore it, Cage knew that he was in for a long night.
“Well that’s not appropriate for Absinthia,” Phoe stated. “But I’m sure there’s something here that will have the desired effect.”
“Well why don’t you model for me,” he suggested. It wouldn’t hurt to play along a little.
He followed her through the throngs of shoppers toward a set of changing rooms in the back. Evidently the shop had prepared for lots of husbands and boyfriends waiting, as there was a seating area with a few chairs. Cage shooed her off to dress and sat down in one of the fluffy, pink brocade chairs to wait.
He took out his eSlate and began tapping away at the screen. Unfortunately, the connection was nearly gone. “Great,” he grumbled to himself. He’d heard about regular eSlates not being worth a shit in the off-world colonies.
“You know, I came to the colonies to get away from things like this. It’s heinous.”
He looked up to see two women browsing the section behind him. They wore the traditional dress of schoolmarms, complete with tiny glasses perched on the ends of their noses and straw hats pinned to their elaborate hairdos.
“I heard it was a publicity stunt put on to entertain the tourists.”
“Why on earth would that be entertaining?”
“I guess for the same reason people like to watch those murder shows on their eSlates.”
The other woman scrunched up her nose, making her already owlish face even more sour. “Some people are sickos. Violent deaths are not supposed to be entertaining.”
“Well, if it’s for entertainment, no one is actually dying. It’s either an actor or maybe a cyborg. You know, re-enacting that old Jack the Ripper case.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t like it. It’s making me think twice about coming to Absinthia.”
The friend gave a hearty laugh and clapped the other woman on the shoulder. “You’ve been coming to Absinthia twice a month since the colony opened.”
“Yes, and I could always count on it to be a fun trip back in time. Now, I’ll be lucky if I’m not disemboweled in an alley. I heard that one of the victims was a tourist from Earth, like us.”
He wondered what the women could possibly be talking about. Stefan had warned Cage that Absinthia was the most interactive tourist colony that had ever been opened. Could it be that they truly were re-enacting the Ripper murders for the enjoyment of tourists? Because if they were, it was, at the very least, in poor taste.
Of course, he knew that everyone’s fantasy vacation was different. Phoe had wanted to come to Absinthia to experience life in another time. Others came to do things they’d never have the nerve to do in real life: carouse with whores, imbibe drugs, experiment with their sexual orientation, or some of all three. Still others wanted to pretend to be Sherlock Holmes or Oscar Wilde. The port cards would allow them any number of identities. Perhaps someone had paid to get to solve the Ripper murders.
Or maybe they wanted to be the Ripper.
“Cage. Help. I’m stuck.”
Cage could see her arms waving around over the top of the dressing room door. “You have to let me in, love.”
She fumbled around, banging into the door a few times with a series of crashes until finally Cage heard the lock click so that he could come inside. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure no one was watching and then barreled on through the door.
“What are you doing?”
“This…corset…is a little…too…small,” she heaved, flailing wildly as she tried to break free of the unforgiving fabric.
Cage couldn’t help laughing as his fingers fumbled with the complicated system of strings, gussets, and hooks that she had somehow managed to get herself tangled up in.
“Stop laughing.”
“Stop being hilarious,” he snorted, tugging at the satin bodice.
“It isn’t funny,” she whined.
“Just…turn around…” he ordered with a grunt. He helped her turn around, pulling at the front of the undergarment. “How did you get into this thing, anyway?”
“It’s supposed to go over your head. Then you tighten it with the hook and eyes.”
Cage pulled at the hooks, squeezing her nipples roughly in the process.
“Ow!”
“Sorry.” Finally, they heard an ominous ripping sound and Phoe’s bosom spilled out of the front of the corset.
“Oh no,” she cried, pushing the corset down over her hips until it fell at her feet. She stepped out of it and surveyed the damage. From the front, the garment looked fine, albeit a little wrinkly from all the pulling and tugging. But the back was ripped almost completely in two. “Well good job, St. John. Now we have to buy a damaged corset that doesn’t even fit.”
“It’s not my fault that you have a dangerous bosom.”
“So it’s my fault?”
Cage looked down at her breasts, now fully exposed, and offered a mischievous smile. “Yeah, kinda. You were too much for that prim little thing.” He pulled her into his arms, pressing her body tightly against him. “You’ve got wild breasts, love.”
Phoe giggled and stretched up for a kiss. Hungrily, he captured her mouth and was immediately aroused. The feel of her warm, soft body rubbing so insistently against his was enough to ignite the fire of his passion. Her breasts with their hard little nubs seemed to swell against the muscle of his chest. The contrast was something he’d come to appreciate over the course of their relationship. While his wife Corinne had been shy about her sexuality, Phoe had grown bolder with the passage of time. Cage found it so exciting that when they were together, all he wanted to do was throw her against the nearest wall and fuck her brains out.
“You’re such an animal,” Phoe moaned. “Remember we said no shifting in public this trip.”
“I can’t help it,” he whispered against her ear. “You bring out the creature inside.” He slid a hand down her back, cupping her bottom for a moment and then pulling her leg over his hip. Both were still clothed, but he could feel how warm and wet she was.
“Well, put it back,” she giggled. “We’re in public.”
“There’s a door there,” he noted. “You’ll have to be quiet.” Emphasizing his point, he bit down into the soft spot at the base of her throat.
“Cage,” she gasped. “Stop it now.”
“You’re the one who asked me in here…”
“Excuse me. The dressing rooms are for one occupant only.”
“Oops,” Phoe whispered. “We’ve been caught.”
“I could probably kill her really quietly.”
“Cage!”
“Do you nee
d any help in there?”
“No, thank you,” Phoe called. “We’re all fine here. Thanks.” She turned back to Cage, her lips pursed so tightly that they were almost invisible. “Now shoo. Get out of here before we get thrown out.”
“Well what am I supposed to do about this?” Grabbing Phoe’s hand, he pressed it to his crotch where his desire was evident.
She blushed, giggling nervously. “Go…jump in a fountain or something.” He leaned in for another kiss and she pushed his face back. “Go.”
Four
“Breakfast will be available in the garden each morning from seven until ten, tea at four in the parlor, and dinner is served promptly at seven in the dining room.”
The mistress of the small bed and breakfast, a Miss Lavinia Abecrombie, fluttered around the room, explaining the rules of the house. Phoe couldn’t tell if she was a cyborg or a science experiment, but one thing was clear: she was one of the most obnoxious beings Phoe had come into contact with throughout their strange travels. The group of tourists moved through the house like mindless drones as Miss Abecrombie barked orders at them over the whirring of a single chrome-and-brass wheel that stuck out from under her skirts and apron.
“Does this woman have an off switch?” Cage whispered.
Phoe giggled and squeezed his hand tight. “Don’t ask.”
“Pardon? Is there a question in the back?” Everyone stopped on the staircase and stared down at Phoe and Cage on the last step. Phoe felt the flush rushing to her cheeks. The cyborg mistress had the air of a strict, old schoolmarm. Suddenly, she felt as if her and Cage were about to be sent to the principal’s office.
“No, ma’am,” Phoe answered, elbowing Cage’s side.
“Then let us continue,” Miss Abecrombie replied with a curt nod. “The Alice & Ludwig will host evening experiences and daytrip excursions throughout your stay in Absinthia. However, you are free to simply drift. Keep in mind that this is an interactive site and we strive for authenticity. You must dress appropriately for all sponsored events. Should you need to rent additional attire at a moment’s notice, your Baedeker application will allow you to order fresh clothing from C. Babbage’s direct from your eSlate.”
“Would have been nice if they’d let us in on that little gem earlier,” Cage grumbled.
“Oh come on,” Phoe whispered. “You enjoyed every second of our shopping.”
“Well, I enjoyed the trying stuff on part, anyway.”
“Naughty.”
Phoe’s mouth snapped shut as Miss Abecrombie turned one of her glistening cybernetic eyes toward them again. “The porters have picked up everyone’s luggage and transported it to the appropriate rooms. Again, be aware that while our rooms have a private sitting room and bedroom, that the W.C. is shared between two rooms. Take care to avoid any embarrassing situations.”
As they were passing through yet another wing of the house, Phoe noticed that they were close to the room number on the key in her hand. She leaned in conspiratorially and showed Cage the key. He nodded, and while Lavinia was explaining the health benefits of the solarium, the two of them ducked around the corner and down the hall. Cage laughed, shushing Phoe as they raced down the corridor, away from the dreadful Miss Abecrombie.
“I feel like I’ve escaped Eve Manning all over again,” Phoe panted as they made it into the bedchamber. “I couldn’t take one more minute of that woman’s droning.”
“I don’t understand why she felt the need to show us each individual room of the house.”
“She’s a cyborg. She’s programmed to do her job and she doesn’t waver, I guess.”
Cage flipped a switch and immediately the room was illuminated with a soft, gaslit glow. Phoe gasped when she saw it. This place was truly like something out of those historical mysteries she liked so much. The wallpaper alone was a work of art. An enormous, lush bed with high wooden posts stood in the center of the room. A fireplace opposite had already been lit and offered a soothing warmth. A large screen stood at one corner and hid a small, clawfooted bathtub and a table stocked with fragrant bath soaps and oils. But what really took her breath away was the bay window at one side and a window seat piled with fluffy cushions; the perfect nook in which she could while away the day reading.
“Like it?” Cage asked, sidling up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist.
“It’s like a dream come true.” She turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. “This is the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you.”
Cage chuckled, kissing the crown of her head gently. “I didn’t build the place, love. Though, I might have asked for the library suite.”
“But you came.” Phoe squeezed him again. Cage was the first person she’d ever been close to who really understood her. At first it had seemed that they had absolutely nothing in common—him an international spy and her a librarian—but Cage had never made her feel less than him in any way. Her odd interests and near-obsessive love of books and old movies had never bothered him. Nor did he make fun. He never complained that she had her head in the clouds. Instead, he had always tried to be excited about the things she was excited about. To care about the things she cared about.
“I love you so much, Macijah St. John,” she whispered. “You are the best thing in my life.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual, love.” Cage grinned.
“Before I met you, I had lost all hope of ever finding someone. I had decided I was going to be an old maid, living in my mother’s house with a bunch of cats. Then, out of the blue, there you were. For no reason at all.”
Cage kissed her cheek. “You ruined my life, you know.”
“What?”
“After Corinne’s death, I decided that I wasn’t going to get close to anyone again. It was too dangerous. I had decided to make the most of my dangerous life. Live free, die young. But you didn’t really give me any choice.”
“You say that like I was trying to seduce you.”
“You weren’t?”
She glared. “Do you not remember how much of a mess I was when we first met?”
“You were adorable.” He captured her mouth in a warm kiss, tentative at first then more forceful. His tongue played lightly at the crease of her lips then teased its way inside. She pulled him in, letting their tongues play together. Every breath was stolen and soon they were pulling at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel the other’s skin.
“Phoe…” Cage groaned, pulling back her blouse and biting the curve of her shoulder. “It’s almost seven…”
“So?” she sighed, lapping at the side of his neck and nudging him toward the bed.
“So, I think Miss Abecrombie will come looking for us if we aren’t there.”
“Fuck Miss Abecrombie,” Phoe growled.
“No, thank you,” Cage deadpanned. “I’d rather fuck you.”
“So, go ahead.” She pressed her body against his, rubbing her center insistently against his thigh.
“You’re so tempting,” he purred. “But it’s always so much sweeter when I make you wait for it.”
“Bastard.”
“Such a dirty mouth.” He grabbed her wrist, bringing it to his mouth, and bit down hard. The venom from his bite burned, but it was a delicious pain that Phoe welcomed. Gently he suckled at the wound, letting her blood trickle over his lips until they were slippery against her skin. Phoe understood why babydolls were so eager. The sensation of having one’s blood taken by a vampire was like a slow orgasm that went on and on. It made it so easy to drain their victims. They wanted it. Even now, if Cage took it into his head to kill her, she wouldn’t put up a fight. “And while I’d love to reprimand you further, we have to dress.”
Phoe growled and fell down on the bed as he released her. She rolled over on her belly, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Of course, now you want to follow the rules.”
“Aww…poor Phoe. Don’t pout. While it does become you, I may not be able to control myself.”
“That’s the idea.” She watched as he began to disrobe, throwing his modern sweater aside. His body was something to behold. Phoe thought she’d likely never tire of seeing it. Though, it did worry her that he didn’t show any signs of aging. Would Oliver’s serum offer her the same fountain of youth?
“Not going to get dressed?”
“I’m watching you,” she said with a mischievous giggle.
Cage quirked an eyebrow and began taking his shirt off slowly in a ridiculous parody of burlesque. She laughed as he pulled the shirt over his head and twirled it on a fingertip before throwing it over his shoulder. Then, slowly, he unzipped his pants and pushed them down over his hip.
“Take it off,” she shouted, whistling and catcalling.
He laughed. “You’re so silly. Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“Most likely. I’m not sure I’m looking forward to getting into that corset and bustle.”
“Speak for yourself.” Cage wiggled his brows. “I’m really looking forward to getting into your bustle.” He fell down into the bed with Phoe, and she shrieked and giggled, rolling over and over with him. She dodged his kisses and tickles, slipping out from under him and on to the floor. She crawled to her feet as he came after her.
“Stay away from me,” she giggled.
“Not a chance.”
He chased her around the bed, both of them laughing hysterically. They squared off on opposite sides, waiting to see what the other would do. Cage lunged across the bed, grabbing for her, but she dove under, crawling to the other side, and then ran for the sitting room. She leaped over the sofa and he followed, knocking over the side table.
He finally caught up and swept her into his arms. “There is no escape,” he growled, leaning in to kiss her and carry her toward the bed. “My woman.”
“Oooh…how very caveman of you,” she giggled, throwing her arms dramatically around his neck. “Be gentle. It’s my first time.”
“Yooo-hooo. Hello?”
They walked into the bedroom at the same time a lady peeked out from the bathroom door. She stared at them through a pair of tiny spectacles perched on the end of her nose that made her eyes look enormous. Phoe scrambled out of Cage’s arms. She smoothed her hair and crossed her arms awkwardly over her chest. “Hello,” she gulped.
In Absinthia Page 3