by Sean Davies
Veronica reached out and clasped his hand in her own. “Oh, sweetie. He’s at peace now.”
Azalea nodded and spoke softly. “And I’m sure he’d be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”
“If only I had the power to bring him back,” Winston muttered quietly and coldly. “To bring them all back, all the people who died because of me.”
“Demons are dicks!” Stitches snapped over Winston’s barely audible words. “Sorry, forgive my outburst!” he added quickly, clasping his hands over his mouth.
The Alternatives and Demons loathed each other. The cruel devolved ex-Archmages considered the puppet-people to be worth less than dirt and theirs to manipulate freely, and the Gloom’s strange material reflections of humanity hated their former demonic overlords with a passion, especially since Winston had inadvertently civilised them.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Constance said kindly. “I know it’s not much, but me and Stitches are always here for you if you need us.”
“Sorry, what was I talking about before?” Winston asked, confused as he tried to pull himself out of his reverie.
“The mission?” Connie reminded him.
“Ah, yes.” Winston started to look more focused and let go of Veronica’s hand. His random change of demeanour was gone, and he carried on as though nothing had happened. “We’ll gather more information and apprise you of the details nearer the time. For the meantime, carry on as normal and stay discreet.”
For a moment Constance wondered if the Primary Regulator had hit his head recently, but then assumed that his eventful and emotional history before and after the War for Reality, along with the stress of managing a new world order, had simply taken its toll on his mind. Connie knew that she would’ve been a gibbering wreck in his place; even his parents had died fighting against him and Omniosis.
“That shouldn’t be a problem at all,” she smiled. “We don’t exactly have much to blab about.”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I had your approval,” Azalea explained to Winston.
He nodded, clearly impressed with the Queen of Tropica’s discretion. “Good, let’s keep it that way for now. There’s no point in derailing your first days in the Conclave unnecessarily.” Winston paused to look around the hall. “Wait—where is your inductor, anyway?!”
“Erm… she had to go, I think,” Constance explained vaguely, trying not to get Chloe in trouble.
“Yes, Chloe O’Kelly ran off after some man with a backpack,” Stitches explained unreservedly to his idol.
Winston frowned—General Stein had apprised him of the situation in Alice’s absence—and opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by Azalea.
“I really must be going,” the Queen of Tropica said, “but we’ll all catch up next time I’m over.” She leant in closer to the Primary Regulator. “I think someone wants an audience,” she added before kissing Winston, Veronica, Constance, and Stitches on the cheeks and leaving.
Winston turned to see Cherriesa and grinned. “I’m sorry, Lady Cherriesa, I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”
“I was, but it is fine,” Cherriesa said in her sweet voice. “I want a private word.”
“Of course,” Winston agreed. “Please excuse me,” he said politely to the others.
The Primary Regulator put his arm around Cherriesa’s slim waist, underneath her luscious black locks, and escorted the sultry black Vampire down the hall while her silver armour-clad guardians followed behind, carrying her trailing dress. Veronica watched on unhappily, wishing hypocritically that the extra fabric was on the top half of Cherriesa’s exquisite, extremely low-cut dress.
“Should we just find Chloe tomorrow?” Connie asked, slightly disappointed that she didn’t have a chance to ask about her eyes’ unique hue.
The busty Vampire snapped out of her sad trance. “Nah, we’ll find you cuties another guide,” she said, putting on a smile.
“I’m a cutie?” Stitches asked, extremely flattered.
“Of course you are,” Veronica and Constance said simultaneously, causing them both to laugh.
“Now let’s—” Veronica broke off mid-sentence and looked down the hallway, then back at Connie, and then down the hall again. “Well, well, well… look who it is! The right candidate has just arrived and is heading our way.”
“Who is she looking at?” Stitches asked Constance quietly.
Connie looked down the hall, studying each person one by one, but couldn’t make out a Book Wielder in Veronica’s line of sight that stood out amongst the others.
“Genevieve Jameson!” Veronica shouted. “Get that firm arse of yours over here right away!”
“V!” a hooded figure called from the distance and hurried over to see them.
Constance tried to get a good look at the person, but she was dressed in a baggy grey hoodie and a pair of jeans that cloaked her face and figure. Even as she approached, Connie could only just make out sharp yet attractive features and a pair of trendy sunglasses.
“Why are you all covered up?” Veronica asked demandingly.
“It’ll be dark soon, there’s no point wasting a Sunshield potion for a few hours,” Genevieve replied. “Besides, not all of us are comfortable walking around wearing next to nothing.”
“It’s not like the sun will kill you these days, plus we’re indoors. And in my defence, Cherriesa’s not hiding her assets either.” Veronica stretched out playfully, showing off her amazing body.
The newly merged, magic-saturated world was much better suited for Supernaturals, increasing their already impressive skills and stamina, and even some humans were developing very slight magical proficiency following the merger, although it wasn’t anything special compared to their Supernatural neighbours’ talents.
Vampires didn’t need to feed on blood quite as often and no longer burnt up in direct sunlight; they still found the day time uncomfortably hot and bright, but it was no longer fatal. Werewolves didn’t experience as much extreme hair-growth and were generally calmer, and Mages aged a lot slower and were slightly more resilient. As such, Corrective potions had become more of a cosmetic item than a dire necessity which drove their price down, but as Supernaturals no longer had to hide in the shadows, even regular shops were beginning to stock them which raised the demand drastically.
“It’s still a waste,” Genevieve chuckled, casually checking out the Bloodmage’s fine figure, “and even if the sun isn’t fatal it still hurts like a bitch. It’s easy to forget you’re uncovered until you pass by a window.”
Veronica smirked, enjoying Genevieve’s naughty thoughts, and laughed inwardly at the way her friend always forgot that she could use telepathy. Veronica pulled a small rose-coloured vial from a little red pouch tied to the side of her dress and tossed it to Genevieve.
“Take one of mine, I insist. My new improved formula—it will last you two days, easy,” Veronica explained. “I want to show you off to my new friends here,” she added cheekily.
Genevieve sighed and swigged the Sunshield potion, waiting a few seconds for it to kick in before revealing herself.
Her face looked like it had been chiselled out of white marble, and Connie imagined that in a different walk of life Genevieve would have been able to waltz into any modelling agency and come out with a cast-iron contract from her well-defined cheek bones alone.
Genevieve pocketed her sunglasses and batted her long eyelashes as she adjusted to the hallway’s lights. Her irises were red like any other Vampire, but they still held a sense of vibrancy, and Constance assumed she was closer to her physical age—between eighteen to twenty, if she had to guess—than the triple figures a lot of immortals boasted. One side of the Vampire’s head was clean shaven and hosted a cool light-blue tattoo of a Nightmare Nettle. The rest of her hair was swept over to one side and rested on her shoulder, and had been dyed several shades of blue, starting at midnight blue at her roots and gradually fading into ice blue at the tips. Genevieve slipped o
ut of her hoodie and slung it over her arm. Her right shoulder hosted a brilliantly detailed tattoo of roses and thorns which stretched down to her elbow, while her left shoulder sported a black circle with a thick white outline, which contained three smaller circles of an identical design. The name ‘Lucius’ was written just above the emblem in artistic calligraphy, and ‘Xavier’ was written below it.
Connie recognised it as the Shadow Circle gang’s symbol, and knew that both its leader Lucius, and his second in command Xavier, had died during the violent events preceding the restoration of Mydia.
Genevieve’s figure was slender yet shapely in all the right places, and a small silver heart-shaped pendant hung from her long elegant neck. Genevieve was wearing a white vest top decorated with a watercolour-style image of the Alternative band Gloom Honey’s lead singer Iggsta Baxta on the front, rocking a power stance with her metal guitar.
“See, isn’t that better?” Veronica beamed, and grinned when she saw Connie was checking out Genevieve. “Where are my manners—?” she began.
“You have manners?” Genevieve interrupted playfully.
“Sometimes,” the curvy Vampire replied before beginning her introductions. “Constance and Stitches, this is Genevieve Jameson, or Genie for short. She’s a bad-ass Vampire Nightclaw and soon to be big-time author! Genie, this is Stitches, the cutest Alt in all the Gloom, and this is Constance Lee, or Connie for short. Natural pro Book Wielder and destined for greatness.”
“Nice to meet you,” Genie said shaking their hands. “I like your eyes,” she added when she gave Connie a closer look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen white eyes with a shade like that before.”
“Thanks, I really like your top,” Constance said. “Gloom Honey are so cool!”
“She likes what’s underneath too,” Veronica added with a wink.
Both Constance and Genevieve gave the Bloodmage an angry look before carrying on their conversation.
“Their record sounds amazing,” Genie added.
“Record? As in, vinyl?” Connie asked critically. “Oh right, I suppose they didn’t have CDs or digi-tracks in your day.”
“My day?” Genie replied sharply. “I’m not much older than you,” she added, clearly offended.
“Back to blue hair again then, Genie-girl?” Veronica intervened before she ruined her matchmaking success streak.
“Yeah, I got bored of orange curls and missed seeing my head tat. That, and people kept asking if Chloe and I were sisters,” she chuckled.
“I bet that was just wishful thinking on their part,” Veronica smiled coyly.
Genie rolled her eyes. “Gross, just gross, on so many levels.”
Veronica laughed. “I bet she’s glad you finally buckled down and finished writing Dreamleaf Blues. Didn’t she have the illustrations done like, over six years ago?”
“I got a few weeks off, but now she’s on at me to do the written work for her ‘Illustrated Compendium of the Gloom’,” Genevieve groaned jokingly.
“Chloe and Genevieve go way back,” Veronica explained to Stitches and Connie. “They were in the Golden Fangs gang together—”
“Reluctantly,” Genie interrupted.
“Reluctant members of the Golden Fangs,” Veronica corrected for Genie’s sake. “Now she runs the Shadow Circle business with my long-time pal Gregory.”
“We’ve gone legit since the merger. We run pubs, nightclubs, strip clubs, brothels, and hotels all over Rura,” Genevieve explained. “We just helped the Sasha’s Salon chain expand and open their third beauty and tattoo parlour.”
“Oh. That’s… nice,” Connie said, trying to hide her distaste for the seedier elements of Genie’s business and causing Genevieve to narrow her eyes.
“Yeah. You should really check out one of Sasha’s places,” Genevieve suggested snidely. “You know, if you want better quality highlights than those…”
Veronica sighed inwardly; her seldom-wrong instincts were telling her that the two girls would hit it off, but she realised it was going to take work. However, the matchmaking challenge was a grateful relief compared to facing her own relationship troubles.
“So, is it just book business that brings you to the Isle, Genie-girl?” Veronica asked to diffuse the tension.
“It’s what’s keeping me here,” Genevieve answered with an awkward expression on her face. “Can’t you just read my mind?” she said, forcing a smile.
“I don’t poke around in people’s head all the time—only when it’s fun,” Veronica replied.
The gorgeous unofficial Empress smirked at first, but then furrowed her brows critically. She knew that Genevieve wasn’t telling her something, and what worried her most was that she couldn’t dig it out of her thoughts.
“Oh, I forgot to say—something really weird happened to me!” Genevieve said, excitedly, to change the subject.
“Really?” Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow at the poor distraction attempt.
Genie nodded and continued regardless, hoping the interesting news would do its work. “I was wandering through the War Room at Fort Dominia when the ground began to rumble. Then, all of a sudden, there was a regal-looking aged man standing at the map table.”
“Did he get lost on his way out of the dungeon brothels?” Veronica asked mockingly. She was more interested in what Genevieve wasn’t telling her than about some silver fox wandering around a castle.
“He was dressed in ancient Imperian Imperator’s garb, the really cool gold and red armour with all the intricate engravings and decals,” Genie carried on.
“So he was into roleplay,” Veronica shrugged. “Who isn’t?” she added with a wink.
“He addressed me as Legate Fleur d’Or,” Genevieve said, reliving the memory in crystal clear detail. “The Imperator chided me for not being in the field with my soldiers, ‘slaughtering the Gaellian savages for the glory of Imperia’. Then he just… vanished!”
Veronica sampled her thoughts and was shocked to see that she wasn’t exaggerating; the angry armoured man had literally disappeared into thin air as though he’d never been there to begin with.
“I had a similar experience today,” Connie added. “There was this old fisherman who looked like my dad. We spoke a bit and then he was gone, just like that,” she said, clicking her fingers.
Veronica narrowed her sexy red eyes in thought. “Fleur d’Or, you say? Like your old boss Seth Goldfang’s real last name?”
“Yeah, that just added to the weirdness,” Genie sighed.
“Didn’t he think you were the spitting image of his sister all grown up?” Veronica pressed, trying to keep a straight face.
“Yeah, and he wanted to sleep with me regardless,” Genevieve sneered, and then realised where Veronica was going with her point. “Oh Goddesses, you don’t think…?!”
“That you’re related somewhere down the line?” Veronica smirked evilly. “It would explain the resemblance, and what the ghost said.”
“Gross, so fucking unbelievably gross!” Genie said disgustedly, and looked close to throwing up.
Veronica laughed, and Constance relived her own ghostly experience, wondering if the fisherman was a distant relation of hers from long ago.
“So, what happened to this Seth guy?” Stitches asked critically. “He sounds like a really unpleasant boss.”
“I cut him in half after I discovered he had a hand in the love of my life’s death,” Genevieve replied nonchalantly, visibly cheering up after the upsetting news regarding her heritage.
“True story,” Veronica added plainly, backing her friend up as though it wasn’t a big deal.
“Oh, right,” both Stitches and Constance said at the same time, just as awkwardly as each other.
“So then,” Veronica began theatrically. “What are you hiding from me, Genie-girl?”
Genevieve let out a defeated sigh and finally spilled the beans. “I was over in Legentium, visiting my parents, when a bunch of dickheads killed some Alt farmers. I helped
apprehend them and called it in…” She trailed off.
“And…?” Veronica pressed. She wasn’t used to being in the dark, and it was becoming an annoyingly regular occurrence in her life.
“Winston got wind of it,” Genevieve reluctantly continued. “He ordered me to escort them here, in one piece and completely unharmed, for his personal attention.”
“So that’s who tomorrow’s trial is for,” Veronica groaned. She didn’t feel any pity for the Alternative murderers, but she wasn’t in a hurry to witness more of Winston’s personal brand of justice.
“I hope they get what they deserve,” Stitches said angrily.
“Oh, they will,” Veronica replied softly. “Believe me, they will.”
Connie shuffled on the spot awkwardly; she felt as though she was intruding on very private matters. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but what should me and Stitches do? About our induction. We can always try and find Chloe again tomorrow if it’s easier?” she added, hoping to escape the strange talk about her new boss.
“Where is Chloe anyway?” Genevieve asked, grateful for the opportunity to steer the conversation away from Winston.
“She’s with Alice,” Veronica answered. “Somehow there was a breach and they’re investigating it.”
“Shit,” Genie gasped. “DH or Corriztis?”
“Corriztis,” the Empress replied. “It sent a man-bomb here as a gift for Alice. Luckily, no one was hurt—well, except for the poor dupe who took the mission.”
“Oh my, that’s who Chloe was chasing then?!” Constance said, shocked that she’d seen an agent of the corruption Demon in the flesh.
Veronica nodded. “Just keep it quiet for now, Winston will probably want to keep it on the down low.”
“Okay, no worries,” Connie replied. She did feel slightly pleased that she was part of insider Conclave knowledge, even if it was troubling to the extreme.
“Right then,” Veronica said, clapping her pale hands together. “Let’s find someone to help you settle in!” She looked around the hallway playfully before settling her sexy red eyes on Genevieve.